So now it looks as if we have two options again. An apartment in Brussels or one up the street in Antwerp. I don't know what to do. Both affordable, both sizable and bigger than our current situation...one we still consider 'home.'

When faced with the proposition, I consider Steven DeLandtsher, someone I worked on a freelance project with. He told me of having to serve in the Belgian army, and that he enlisted in the French side so he could master French and get a year knocked off of his time. Certainly he went into it with several years of the language to his advantage, but he still did it. He took himself out of his comfort zone, and for that, I respect him. It's admirable.

So French. Eva insists that I will return from Italy with the desire to return. Italian. We'll go to Paraguay, eventually, and start it off as a holiday with the intention of staying. Spanish. 3 romance languages to my dusty Germanic one. English. And the one I am learning to appreciate, Dutch. How much I enjoy seeing 'k's and double 'ee's and 'aa's after spending too much time in in the world of accented 'e's. (I don't know where the accent mark is.)

And today is Independance Day, of all days. And I see myself as the most independant I have ever been. (not figuring in the comfortable binding union to Eva) It is not that I was constrained before, it is just now the world is bigger or smaller, depending on how you look at it.

So a poem, now. Written while I listed to the BBC's Radio 4 in the background. News bits from around the world. I can't help but want to pack a bag and then I realize how different I am now than this time last year. Comfy in a great paying job, though I lose it on Friday the 13th 9 days from now last year.