Romantic sunsets

The god Lord knows that Im not a romantic person at all. My body kind of chrinches when I hear about long walks on the beach, candle light dinners and writting love letters. I cant deal with the couples who just have to declare their eternal love for eachother all_the_time in the cheesiest ways possible.

Maybe that is why my romantic sunset experiences has not been that traditional. For one, it was not with the looooove of my life, it was with a 19-year old that I always call PP (and when we told people what Pierres nick name was, the seriously told him where the bath room was at). And also, the watching of the sunsets didnt go like planned. Both them were in Cambodia, and the other day I got reminded of this little memory and decided to write to Pierre about it:

Gabbis remenice:
A memory that came to mind:

Once upon a time BB and PP were in Phnom Phen and read in the guide book about this really romantic place next to the riverside. They went there just before the sunset, very very happy, looking forward to some beautiful scenary. The ended up next to the city dump, in like the poorest neighbourhood in Cambodia. At least they didnt get robbed.

And they live happily ever after. The end.

Pierre answers: A memory that came to my mind:We are seating on a temple in Siem Reap (the temple of death) and I really want to take a shit. No paper, nothing! Nothing but my guidebook about south east Asia... If you're planning to have a lesbian trip to East Timor Gabbi, just buy another guide!!

I can see now why Pierre said that the only song that could describe or relation was Bad Romance.

An anecdote from Gabbis life

The other day I was listening to a radio show and they were talking about waking up in strange places. That made me associate to the one time I woke up on a bus, which is not the strangest place, but the circumstances around it was a bit.. ehm.. different, if we say it like that.

Last fall was a crazy time for me. I had three different jobs, wrote my bachelor thesis and was the president of the european studies program student union, active in every kind of sub-organisation of the student union etc. On top of that I tried to manage to keep my social life alive. Anyhow.

This particular day, I had worked the morning shift (6-9), spent some time at the library, probably had some meetings, before I was going to make an appearance at a masquerade. Me and two of my best mates decided to do a concept out-fit. A very good concept. We even got a little prize.

Around 2 oclock at night, after eating some cheese burgers (yes, this is a very important part of the story), I decided to make my way home. I decided to wait for the bus for 20 minutes instead of taking the tram that left earlier, just to avoid walking. Ofcourse, because I had gone up at 4.30 in the morning I fell asleep on the bus. The tragic is that I wasnt even that drunk. And all of a sudden, a concerned voice woke me up. I was at the end station, and now I had to walk home, which took me longer than if I would have took the tram.

At least I wasnt afraid that anyone would molest me (except maybe the USA), because this is what I looked like that night:

So yes, I can understand why the bus driver, looked a bit nervous when he woke me up.