You know those weeks when all you want to do is cry, drown yourself in red wine, choke yourself in chocolate bonbons and watch Titanic over and over again? Well….
This was definitely NOT one of those weeks! In fact, it was quite the opposite.
But it kinda was a fantastic week. Quite chaotic, but for once I didn’t mind. I think my general aversion of chaos was smothered by all that excitement and euphoria of meeting new people, discovering new places and learning new stuff. I know this may make me seem like a bit of a nerd (guilty!) but during my first classes at university this week I sort of had a revelation.
Well, sort of anyway. Yes, Lena Dunham is still pretty cool but at least I’m not wearing monstrous dresses at red carpet events. (Did you see the dress she wore at the Emmys? It was as if she had wrapped herself in a roll of children’s wallpaper.) I’m smart (Move over Sheldon Cooper!), can cook (Move over Nigella!) and I am exuberantly mentally creative (Move over Lady Gaga!)
Okay, so before you start thinking I might be high on LSD or other illegal stimulants, I’m not. I’m just incredibly elated, and every time when I’m elated, I tend to exaggerate and declare myself the new Queen of the World. Deal with it. (The way I see it, being an epitome of awkward exaggeration is way better than drowning yourself in red wine and crying over Leonardo Dicaprio. )
Because I was so damn happy, and because I wanted to celebrate overcoming my fear of chaos, I decided to treat myself to a delicious cupcake. I live in the medieval city of Ghent, Belgium, and when you say “cupcake” in Ghent, the name “Julie’s House” is likely to echo immediately afterwards. This sugar Walhalla is the place-to-be if you are ready to succumb to the temptation of devouring delicate cupcakes, delectable pies and devilishly delicious cakes. So if you ever find yourself in the neighbourhood, not going there would be considered a crime.
I opted for a “speculoos” cupcake. Speculoos is a typically Belgian biscuit, quite similar to the British gingerbread or the German Lebkuchen, only better. Heaven.
Although this week will go down in history books as “a marvelous week to remember” there was one moment, however, on which I was fighting the urge to bang my head against the wall and shout all kinds of nasty stuff at the people walking by, staring at me with an uncomfortable expression on their faces. Like I told you, I live in Ghent. If you’ve ever had the opportunity to visit the city, you will most likely know that the city centre is a maze of cobblestone streets. Although cobblestone streets look amazing, they are an absolute horror to walk on, especially if you’re wearing high heels. So there I was, walking through the streets with my head stuck in the clouds, overtly happy with a stupid grin on my face and silently humming a Taylor Swift song, when suddenly one of my heels got caught between the cobblestone blocks. And just like the Colossus on the Island of Rhodes, I fell down. My newly-gained confidence lay shattered on the ground. It hurt. Not just because I ended up with some bruises, but because all the people in the street were gawking at me as if I were a terribly bad street artist.
The normal reaction to a painful event like this would be: “I’m never wearing high heels again, definitely not on these streets.” But, hey, it’s me we’re talking about. I don’t do flats.
So to conclude: it was a crazy week. Full with chaos, cupcakes and cobblestones. What more could you possibly want?