Many thanks to the Great WebMaster!

Dogslife is going mobile!

You'll be able to enjoy my whining and other stuff wherever you want (provided you got a smartphone with Wifi, 3G or Edge). All thanks to the Great Red-Haired WebMaster.

Well isn't that just great? A special lightweight version of the blog for all you diet-obsessed frenzies out there. Reminds me of a quote:

Introducing 'Lite' -- The new way to spell 'Light', but with 20% fewer letters.

It's from Jerry Seinfeld.

Aside from that, the Great Red-Haired WebMaster advised me to create twitterfeeds, for the posts and comments. Let me just say: It's bloody hard to find a good introduction of max. 20 characters, so no mocking, thank you.

Let me just say I'm pretty satisfied. With life at the moment. It may be the last day of August, which usually makes me grumpy (except when September first is a weekend day), I'm perfectly content to listen to 'Video killed the radiostar' on Classic21 and to go to school tomorrow.

I will probably be of another 'constitution' in a few weeks, but right at the moment, pessimism doesn't seem so brilliant anymore. I'll have to find a new philosophy. What was it that you adhered to, Krivi? Mentalism? What was it again?

Well, what a toad I am. Krivi follows Krivianism. And I follow Oscar Wilde: I have nothing to declare but my genius.

State of Affairs: Dispersing

I sprained my ankle yesterday. How? Well, to make a long story short, I went to Leuven, met up with friends for drinks, ended up eating pizza, drinking beer, meeting two English hippies that couldn't stop saying 'oh man' but were very nice. And spraining my ankle. I tripped on the sidewalk. No, I wasn't drunk. Just everyday average clumsy.

Anyway, I hobbled along through the city 'till 00.30, then some of the girls had to go home, and I texted my parents, who didn't answer no matter where texted or called. So I took the one o'clock bus to Vaalbeek, and crashed at a friend's. Must have been around 2 AM when I got in bed.

Subsequently, you can imagine my dismay at being woken at 5 AM by my throbbing ankle, that had swollen to the size of big grapefruit. I tried to fall asleep again and succeeded, only to be woken up again at 9.30, by my ringing phone. Mum.

"Oh, am I waking you?"
"Noooo..."
"Darling I'm so sorry, I didn't think to check your bedroom last night..."
"I'm at Annaëlle's."

My parents were out for dinner at a friend's the day before. And apparently were asleep when I called.

"Dad threw a huge fit this morning about the fact the he could be a 'papa poule' (a father hen? a doting daddy?) but I was totally irresponsible..."
"Mmm-hmm."
"I'll be there in 30 min to pick you up."

So I proceeded to dress, painfully getting my ankle in my shoe, and go downstairs, where I found my friend's mother. Could have been quite awkward. Luckily she always liked my quiet, polite manners and I got through my cornflakes making small talk. In the end, she drove me back home.

I must confess I deeply enjoyed her slightly chastising my mother.

Mother who has wrapped my ankle in a bandage and had the decency to look ashamed.

This was a shitty post but I wanted to write it. So, done. Oh yes, Krivi? Marine, I don't know if you remember her, was even crazier than usual last night. I made the mistake of dropping your name in the conversation, and she spontaneously concluded you and I have a thing going on. I hope I convinced her otherwise, but I did find that highly amusing.

I am not in my normal state.

Did I already tell you I am a pessimist? No? Well, there you go then. I am a pessimist. In fact I like being a pessimist so much, I actually wrote an ode to pessimism. Ode which I'm planning to recite in front of 70 people in October.
Be as it may, you'll understand that pessimists are not supposed to be perky. Or giddy. Or giggly. Or harbour a stupid grin from ear to ear.
Pessimists are not supposed to listen to 'The Beatles''s 'From Me To You', 'I Want To Hold Your Hand', 'Love Me Do', any version of 'Rockin' Robin' or anything up tempo from 'The Beach Boys' with said stupid ear-splitting grin on their face, even less are they supposed to sing giddily along. Things I do. Heaven help me, I can't even seem to be a pessimist correctly. Some of you might think that's a good thing, but you'd be wrong on so many levels I'm not even going to elaborate them here.

I'll blame it on the summer. The summer, the holidays, the nice weather, the good feeling hanging about, the projects I'm planning and the good resolutions I'm taking (those good resolutions won't last two weeks into September, but hey, let's forget about that for a while).
About those projects and resolutions: since this'll be my last year at my current school, I am pretty determined to end up in detention at least once. I do not want to leave this school with a blank record. I have not yet figured out how to end up in detention, although briefly envisioned scenarios involved obviously recognisable graffiti (lame, I know), a false alarm evacuation, and a wide variety of firecrackers. I am however pretty sure a certain red-haired friend of mine with extensive experience of detention will be able to help me out.
The other project is to put wisdom in the toilets. No, you didn't misread that. I have discovered over the summer that I have an extreme fondness for quotations, and I am willing to share so much I'm going to print that wisdom out, laminate those sheets and stick them all over our loo. And I'll sign all those sheets Wolves, just to see if some have a good memory and will rat me out.

I'm definitely going to have fun. I'm going to try to save the lost cause that is the school's journal. I am going to try and go out a little, instead of locking myself up in my Ivory Tower, like my mother loves to say.

Ah, all those wonderful images that these dreams bring up... It would almost make me regret that the coming fall will bring back my melancholy and pessimism (my normal state). But hey, we'll see that when we'll get there, won't we? After all, it is quite possible we'll all  die in atrocious circumstances before.

FIN

PS: As a bonus, here's some of all those cheesy songs I chattered about. Remember what I said about the worst coloured blog? Still stands, apparently.

Create a MySpace Playlist at MixPod.com