Yesterday I had the worst luck I have ever had in all my time of travelling with public transport. It was even worse than the time I missed the first bus I wanted to take and the one I wanted to take instead of the one I missed didn’t show up, as did the one I wanted to take to replace the second one.

So what happened? Well, I haven’t been to the city centre in quite a while, since I was on study break for my exams. Turns out they have been doing some work at several bus stops. After my bio exam I walk to the bus stop, very confident that I’ll be able to catch the bus on time, and when I get there the bus stop has been moved, and I don’t know where, because I can’t read the sign.
So I walk to my second choice bus stop. I always never take the bus from there because it’s on the other end of the city centre, and I’m not a fan of walking. Nearby is a book store and since I have some time to kill before the bus comes I wander in there. When I do eventually get to the bus stop there’s no one there. Very suspicious, so I look at the bus stop sign, and it turns out this one is also moved. This time I can read the sign, and it turns out I have to walk even further.

When I do eventually get on a bus and make it home, I’m home and hour later than I would have liked… >.<

And then there’s the icing on the cake: When I get home my sister is all: ,,Oh didn’t you know that the bus is rerouted to stop directly in front of the school?”

AAAARRGH.

It has been over a year now since I was in Rome with school but there is one thing I will never forget: the ice cream.

It’s no secret that the Italians make the most amazing ice cream in the world, what is a secret however, is the size of the scoops. They are HUGE. They don’t use a normal scooping device, they use a triangular flat knife of sorts to scoop the ice into the cone, creating a enormous mound of ice on top of the cone.

There is an Italian ice cream shop in town, and since I got money from my grandfather to buy ice cream, I went there.
Too bad the ice cream was nothing like the ice cream I got in Rome. Sure, it was tasty enough, but the scoops were very disappointing.

Tiny wasn’t exactly what I was was hoping for, especially since the previous times I bought ice cream there the scoops were bigger.
This episode has taught me two things:
The first is that size really does matter. (At least in ice cream xD), and the second is that apparently the credit crunch affects ice cream too.

I enjoy watching TV on a Saturday night. It’s always interesting to watch a showing of an English detective on the Belgian television. First and foremost because I love watching detectives, and secondly because the subtitles are very interesting, Belgian Dutch can be quite different from Dutch Dutch sometimes, and it always brings the lulz.

Tonight though I am very annoyed by my little brother. He’s constantly trying to be funny, commenting on everything that’s going on, and asking questions none of us know the answer to. He’s also so convinced that he’s right about stuff that he doesn’t believe a word we say, and instead sniggers.

How wonderful it would be if my little brother would just shut his rather large pie hole for more then ten consecutive seconds. Preferably for the duration of the episode.

I am so hungry right now, I could eat a horse. Which is not a good things considering it’s 00.10 and I’m planning on going to sleep soon. What’s even worse is that temptation is lying just one floor under me, in the form of delicious stilton quiches I baked for my dad’s birthday, which is tomorrow.

I have done this particular type of quiche before, and they are so, so, so delicious. Resisting them right now is really hard, but I promised my mother I wouldn’t, so I won’t.
Good thing that my sister bought me chocolate as a bribe for borrowing Pride and Prejudice from me, I can eat those in stead of the quiches that are downstairs calling my name.