Levi Boitelle

Yesterday, I was walking back home from RAI station after an evening of working. A guy was strolling before me. I was busy talking to Lins on the phone when I past him, but still he called me.

“Hey man, I need some help. I’m completely lost”

So I told Lins I’d call her back and hear the man out. He looked a bit like Leo meets Catweazle. This ought to be interesting, I thought to myself.
I heard him out. Apparently, he was from Johannesburg, SA. He got mugged in a hostel here in Amsterdam, and lost all of his money and credit cards. The only things he still had were some clothes, two telephones and a diary. He went to the police with that story and they found out some places for him where he could crash for little money. His friends were coming to town this weekend, so he just needed a place for two nights.
At the first hostel, he got rejected for being to old. At the Jellinek, he got rejected for not being a (total) crackhead. At another hostel, he got rejected for not being a Catholic.
So he was pretty desperate. He walked alongside of me and we talked about linguistical differences in Afrikaans and Dutch and about computer hardware and software.
When I reached the point where I had to turn right, we said our goodbyes. I gave him some money for food and a smoke. He told me I was the first person, other than the police, to pay him any attention. He knew that it was probably because of the way he looked. But after a couple of years in Amsterdam, I’ve learned one thing: do not judge people on their appearence.

Oh yes, there was a band.

This friday started out pretty nicely. After I went to Ignjat to work on the Marcus & HeinZ site, I took the train back to the centre. The sun was shining, I solved the Sudoku in the NRC*Next within the hour and Ben Folds playing my song.

September ‘75 I was 47 inches high
Mom said by Christmas I would have
A badass mother G.I. Joe
For your little minds to blow
I still got beat up after class
Yeah, now I’m big and important
One angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces are you
If you really want to see me check the papers and the TV
Look who’s telling who what to do
Kiss my ass goodbye

Anywho, I called Robbert. He was sitting outside of his work with a beer. Sounded good enough to me. After waving to tourists in canal cruisers, I went to Elian’s house for a little poker. Rob went to a party at his fraternity. After three hands of poker, I went all-in with two kings in my hand. I lost to three sevens. Fuck.
Lins called. She wanted to do one beer. One isn’t enough for me, so that didn’t go through. I then called Ignjat, but he was already home, to do some push-ups and shit. Luckily, Rob was still around, so I went to his frat party. Oh yes, there was a band. But they sucked. Five guys and not one of them could sing. They could play, but the singing was awful. We drank a whole lot of vodka and then, all of a sudden at half past one, Rob decided to go home. And I had to follow. So now I’m sitting here, writing my next blog entry (or bloooaaaaaaagh, as David Duchovny would have said in ‘Californication’). This is for your little minds to blow. But I still got beat up after class.

But fuck that. I am gonna be big and important.

Hi, my name is [insert name speaker here], and I am an alcoholic.

And they call it Alcoholics Anonymous. Anonymous? There’s nothing anonymous left after the introduction.

Yes, I am strangely bothered by this kind of meaningless, random stuff. And no, I do have a life.

One of our first works as Marcus&HeinZ, is next Monday, 28 April, to be shown on Dutch prime time television in the program ‘De Wereld Draait Door‘. It’s the new music video from the band Zuco103. The song is called ‘Nunca Mais’ and it can be listened to on their MySpace.

Oh, and did I mention that we’ve only just started, like a month ago. And already on prime time television. Yes, I’m proud. Now I want to go and celebrate. Luckily, Dex has to perform tonight and we already decided to go to West Pacific. I have a sense that Oh What A Night Part II is about to be born.

They told us (Robbert and me) to come and join them at Paradiso.

Thei, Robbert and I went to the cinema this evening. After that, Rob and I decided to go and drink a beer in a pub nearby our house. There were two girls working, and one, who also works at the same bar, sitting there. They played good music. From Rolling Stones to Snow Patrol. From Stereophonics to Oasis. From Hooverphonic to Voicst. It was very pleasant. After the last round, we even got away with a last-last round, by giving them our ‘begging smile’. Then, Rob asked the question: “what to do now?”. The answer was simple: “Paradiso”. The idea was that we would go and they would join us later.

Rob is the responsible one, so he decided to go home and get some well earned rest. I, for one, doubted a little. I was on my my way home, but then I called Rob. He told me I shouldn’t be a pussy and get my ass over to Paradiso. And so I went.

When I entered, Claudia, a former colleague, was working. I drank some beer with her, while chatting about the good old times. After fifteen minutes, the girls from the bar came in. But did they stop and say hello? No, they didn’t. They did saw me, but they refused to see me. It was clear to me, they couldn’t care less about me. Well, I couldn’t care less about them too, so we have that in common.

Right after that, I spotted Seeltje. Another ex-colleague. We had a good time, danced a little and drank some tequila. But then I met her ex-boyfriend. He totally ignored me. Since I’m used to that I didn’t give a flying fuck. But then Seeltje told me that he was jealous of me. Why the fuck would a random guy, whom I’ve never met, be jealous of me? It appears Seeltje had told stories about me and therefore, this guy, hates me. Yes? Great!

Seel told me she “wanted to fuck him” that same night, and she didn’t want me to cause any trouble. At least, that’s what I think. So I went home.

And the girls? They didn’t pay any attention to me.

I love being impulsive.

Friday has always been the best day in the week. Well, at least according to me. I’m a big fan of the friday-afternoon-drink-at-the-office (I’m also okay with the friday-afternoon-drink-in-the-pub). But it’s been so long since I was at an office (any office) on a friday afternoon, that the whole friday feeling has vanished a bit. I just realized this, sitting at home behind my MacBook (why say laptop if you own a Mac?). My friends in Venlo mostly start their friday at 9.30 PM, while in Amsterdam, we start at 4.00 PM. You see the difference? The whole idea of the friday-afternoon-drink-at-the-office is gone. Just like that. It’s time I get a grip on my study and finish it already. Then we need to find an office for Marcus&HeinZ. And then we need to reinstall the friday-afternoon-drink-at-the-office. We’ll even make it official by implementing this into the companies values and beliefs.

There’s a “meet and greet” going on at the office where I work. This means that potential employees meet up with clients under the supervising eye of Randstad personnel. It’s a bit crowded in the front, where I usually sit, so I’m tucked away in the back. With nothing going on.

My boss just came in and asked what I do on an evening like this. This conversation actually took place:

Me: “Well, pretty much nothing.”
He: “You wanna like gossip?”
Me: “Sure. We can also talk about football.”

I love it here.

EDIT: A guy is strolling next to my window. He’s watching me while he sips his beer. What a tease. The bastard.

Question: What is a pronoun?

Answer: A noun that lost its amateur status.

It’s worth a shot. Maybe you’ll get extra points for originality.

How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me.  It’s like a book elegantly bound, but in a language that you can’t read - just yet.

I have got to hand it to them: it has been a while, but it was worth the wait. Ever since they released their first album on a major record label, back in 2005, it has been awfully quiet around them. Was it worth the wait? Yes. Oh yes. And will they possess my heart? They already do.

I have started a new job at the 24 hour service of Randstad Airport Services. The job is actually pretty nice and laid back, which I’m not used to. But, it also involves working a night shift. Hence the "24 hour service". An airport never closes, so why should an office that is responsible for people working at said airport? Seems reasonable to me. So, my alarm is going off in four hours, and I can’t get no sleep. I’m a nightcrawler, always have been. I like nights. They’re so quiet and peaceful. I’m at my best at night. So the night shift should suit me.  

PS: one of the reasons I can’t get no sleep at this ridiculous early hour may also be the f-ing car alarm that has been going off for like an hour. Car alarms are overrated. 

EDIT: All in all it wasn’t that bad. The only problem was that from 11 AM on till 3.30 PM I was knocked out. But the idea that you’ve already made money while everyone else is going to their jobs is pretty funny. This fact hit me on the train, where I saw all these agonizing, silenced faces of people going to their jobs/university. And I was going home to my warm bed. I like nights.  

Taking the night train puts all train traveling in perspective. Sure there are weird people traveling by day, but at night, the train is the kingdom of the outcasts, crackheads and the drunk and disorderly.

It was last Saturday night when me and a friend took the night train from Utrecht back to Amsterdam after a night of excessive dancing. Two girls joined me and my friend in the booth we were sitting in. Giggling, like little schoolgirls. I frowned. For a couple of minutes they couldn’t get a hold of themselves. So I asked, to break the ice: "Whatever crack you’ve smoked, have you got some left for me? It seems like good stuff." The giggling stopped and was replaced by an awkward silence. I’m used of people not getting my jokes, so I’m also used of people not laughing at what I think is hilarious. My buddy laughed. But then again, it’s mostly his line, the crack-thing. 

The girls started talking to us. Well, talking, it was mostly me trying to make fun of them and them by not responding to my inappropriate responses (are you still following this?). I didn’t like them. But then again, I usually don’t like crackheads. 

How come something that feels right at one moment, feels awkward the next? I’m currently on a mission of finding this out. This mission takes place inside my head. And believe me, it’s pretty crowded at the moment in there. But I need to go back to square one. What is it that I want? What is it that other people involved want? And when (or if) I figure this out, how do I accomplish this? I’m not the kind of person that enjoys confrontation, but this time I really have to. I’ve put myself in a vulnerable position, which makes everything even harder. We’ll let time figure it out. And if it doesn’t get figured out, we’ll let that same time heal the wounds.

I really need to stop messing with my head. To quote my good friend Robbert: "Don’t think. You should let cows think. They’ve got a much bigger head than you."

Lately, things are looking back up for me again. After the incident with me and my appendix a couple of weeks ago, I’m finding myself in this upwards spiral. That’s a good thing, right? Right. Except that with every good thing, comes a bad thing. The only problem is: what will that be? 

I am completely clueless on this one. These bad things always hit you in the face when you least expect it. I could have died from my appendicitis (if I was in the middle of nowhere), so what could be worse than that. Actually die and go to heaven? I, for one, am a non-believer, so in the eyes of the the Almighty, He would have send me straight downstairs. Or I could die and find out that this whole shindig we call Religion doesn’t exist. That would actually make me feel good about myself, because it means that I was right. 

Anywho, if I really would have died, I wonder what it would have said on my tombstone. Probably something like: "Please God, have mercy on his soul. He didn’t know any better". Personally, I’m hoping more for something like: "It could have been a brilliant career". 

Ah, to hell with it. By the time I’m ready to meet my maker, just burn me up. But for now, I’m busy hitchhiking on an upwards spiral.

So. I’m taking a course called ‘publiceren via nieuwe media’ (which actually kind of means what I’m doing right now). The main topics are hypertext and linking. "No problem", I can hear you think out loud. 

"Yes problem", is my response. Why the hell are we learning things about so called ‘new media’ from scientific articles written almost a decade ago? Can’t you see that scientists are almost always wrong (there’s always an article seconding the one written first)? Can no one understand that it is outdated to talk about the fact that one should be careful how to write in hypertext? That you shouldn’t be ambiguous when linking? And that usability is very important?

Who came up with that? Well, these are a few of the rules thought up by this guy. And oh my god. What is it that I see on his site? No, it couldn’t be true. Is he really? 

Yes, he is. He really is breaking his own rules. And already on the frontpage. Kudos, Mr. Nielsen, kudos. 

 Marcus&HeinZ: everything

I have edited something. As you can see, it’s a short clip. The person involved, is called Rens Ciggaar; a soon to be famous actor in the Netherlands. Note the "soon to be". Trust me on this one.