cabuki.com
The Sun is announced. Don’t forget to bring your balls.

I came down with the flu this weekend, and apparently, it agrees with me. Not only did I lose 5 pounds, according to Christine I also got tan.

I only lasted a month. My desire to be social at lunch today outweighed my disdain of the cafeteria food.

That and the 80 students in line at the sandwich shop. I had no desire to stand outside in the cold weather without a jacket. I must remember to get to the sandwich place earlier on Wednesdays.

We had fantastic weather yesterday (15C/59F with clear skies and no wind), so Icaro and I broke out the golf clubs and hit the links.

My round started out good, but I hit some bumps along the way. Being sloppy and/or lazy, I cost myself two strokes (and two holes) on the front 9. The weakest part of my game was my approach and pitch shots. On at least 3 holes, I wasted great drives by flubbing the second (and sometimes third) shot. My putting was ok, but I still need to work on my speed and line reading.

Icaro played a good front 9 and made the turn 1 stroke down but 3 holes up. I won a couple holes on the back but ended up losing 2-1 even though Icaro blew up and dropped 6 more shots to me. I hate starting the season with a loss, but I can take solace in the fact that I shot my handicap for a 93 (+21).

It was really great being able to start playing golf so early in the year. I imagine my next round won’t be until April or something.

We have a cafeteria on the top floor of the building where I work.

It sucks.

The people I work with don’t seem to mind it and go there almost every day. I’ve only been here since July and I can’t take it any more. I’ve decided I’m not going to eat the food there. There’s a decent sandwich place just up the street that’s pretty cheap. The only drawback is it’s next to a school so I either have to get lunch before 12 or after 1. I’m used to doing that at my last job, so it’s not really a big deal. My coworkers know how I feel about the food upstairs, but I’m sure they’ll still give me a hard time for being so picky. I don’t care. The “food” is just that bad.

Update: The day after I posted this, a letter was sent to all the offices in the building announcing the closing of the cafeteria in June. The people currently running it are retiring. I imagine they’ll find someone else to run the place.

Last night, some coworkers and I formed a team (Attention Deficit) for the pub quiz at the Old Oak in Brussels. Simon, Frank, Casper, Linda and myself took on about 15 teams and came away victorious. We had a strong first half (28/40) followed by a good 2nd half (32/50) to finish with 60 points. The next closest team had 58. We could (should) have finished with 5 or 6 more points, but we made some mistakes on questions we probably should have known. (The stars on the Venezuelan flag are white; the US won the most medals at the 2004 Olympics; Barbra Streisand played the title role in the film version of Hello, Dolly and not Carol Channing)

It was the first time any of us had won one of these and while we’re proud of our victory, the Wall Street Journal team (The Daily Show) was not there so the victory is not as impressive as it could have been. That’s not to say that it was a totally hollow victory. There were at least two teams present last night that are regularly in the top 3.

This morning was fairly normal. The train was on time - ok, maybe it wasn’t normal - and there were plenty of places to sit. I got on, found a seat and pulled up an episode of South Park on my iPhone to pass the time. The train pulled into Brussels North and I joined the queue to get off. There were about 20 people getting off through the doors I was using and 2 or 3 people waiting to get on. One was a 20 something kid with a suitcase and a bad case of the “Oh my god the train is going to leave without me”s. Despite the fact that people were still getting off and the train had stopped no more than 15 seconds prior, he decided the train was about to leave and pushed his way on. As he was trying to get on, guess who was trying to get off. As I’m stepping down onto the narrow step, he swings his suitcase into my foot and sends me crashing down to the platform.

He actually stopped and tried to help me up while giving me a look like it wasn’t his fault. I refused his hand, cursed at him and got up. Mildly annoyed, I walked over to a bench and checked to make sure nothing was broken or bleeding (all clear). I gave one last dirty look at the idiot as I walked to the stairs to the street and the train sat at the platform.

Jeff and Staci came down from Amsterdam this weekend for Marcus’ birthday party. On Saturday, we left Marcus with a baby sitter and went out for some Thai food and bowling with Manu and Lesley.

The Thai was really good. It was the first time in a long time that I ordered something spicy and got it real person spicy and not Belgian spicy. After the Thai, we went bowling. Other than having to wait a long time to get a lane (the alley was small - only 6 lanes and one was out of order) and no one paying attention to the no smoking signs, it was a good night. I didn’t take it seriously and bowled the entire night with a beer in my hand. The first game I bowled a 235 with 8 strikes:

  X   X   X  9-  9/   X   X   X   X 8/X
 30  59  78  87 107 137 167 195 215 235

Before we got a lane, I noticed a sign saying you got a free drink if you bowled over a 210. I didn’t think anything of it, but it certainly paid off. I had never broken 200 before (at least I don’t think I have) so this easily shattered my personal record.

Unfortunately, my next game I rolled a 129. I think the free drink threw me off.

Yesterday, I decided not to rush to get out of the house in the morning. I figured I’d just take the train after my usual one. I took Marcus to daycare and headed over to the station. Because I was later than normal, my usual parking spot was taken - as were all the other close spots. No big deal, I went and found a spot. Of course, as I was parking, the train pulled into the station.

Shit.

I grabbed my bag and started sprinting to the platform - which naturally was the one furthest from the parking space I was in. As soon as I sat down on the train, my hamstrings and quads began voicing their displeasure. This morning, they’re still not happy.

I need to start exercising again. I used to be a decathlete in college. Sprinting 75 meters shouldn’t cause this much discomfort.

This time, it’s my fault.

Marcus has been sick, so Wednesday, I needed to work from home in the afternoon. I figured I’d catch an earlier train so I could get more done at the office since I knew Marcus would take quite a bit of my time. Normally, I catch the 8:06 train into Brussels, but Wednesday I decided to take the 7:48 train.

I pulled into the parking lot and as I was walking to the platform, I see a train roll in. Thinking I had timed it just right, I hop on and take a seat. It skipped my normal train’s first stop, but I figured that the earlier train doesn’t hit every stop on the line. Then we veered left just outside Vilvoorde. Shit, this is the wrong train.

I ended getting off in Evere and fortunately, there was a northbound train coming in 5 minutes. I took it back to Vilvoorde and switched to another train heading to Brussels-North. Instead of getting to the office about 25 minutes early, I got there the same time I would have if I had taken my normal train.

What I didn’t realize is that there is a 7:41 train on the same track at my station. There are 4 tracks at my station, but usually only 4 trains an hour stop there - 7-9 am is the exception.

I’m going to have to put the entire train schedule for my stop on my phone so I don’t make that mistake again.

I take the train into Brussels every day to go to work. Most mornings, it’s about 3 minutes late - which is still on time according to the way they judge on-time in this country. For most of October, the train has been running 10 - 15 minutes late. Except for today when it was 4 minutes early. I just happened to pull into the parking lot as the train was stopping at the platform. I imagine quite a few people missed their train this morning. And at my station, that means waiting an hour for the next train to Brussels or grabbing one of the other 3 trains and figuring out which connections you need to take to get where you need to go.

You have to love the Belgian train service.