From: fjvwing@cs.vu.nl (FJ!!)
Newsgroups: soc.motss
Subject: move
Date: 6 Oct 92 13:28:11 GMT
Organization: Fac. Wiskunde & Informatica, VU, Amsterdam

September was an important and busy month for me.

Not only did I code the most complex application I've ever coded for an
assignment - it was done in C++, we've got something like 75 classes
now, imf through the whole directory is taking 30 minutes - I also was
informed that my studies _were_ going somewhere, and that I would move
to a new house.

First a word about the assignment: when Niek - the guy I did it with,
we started at the same time, always kept track of each-other, but never
seemed to do an assignment together - and me started out on this, we
totally miscalculated how complex this project would be.  What this
meant is that we spent long days and long nights all through weeks and
weekends trying to learn and cope with this language, this paradigm,
this library (I _HATE_ Glyphs. I _LOVE_ Glyphs), this complexity. And
it was all our own fault.

The reason I made it into the top 30 again was because I read and
posted during compilations. One night, as Niek and me were filled with
despair about something we couldn't figure out, mail arrived from
here.  I replied, and half-jokingly asked the recipient if he knew
C++.  He did. Thanks for your help, Nelson. We couldn't have managed
those first steps without you.

We are nearing the total, utter, end-stages, and it looks cool.

Second, I was a bit depressed in August. I was worried about the
progression in my studies, and as our first deadline approached, I had
to do some exams as well. This was not a peacefull month. Migraines and
colds made me perform badly, and it got me worried, because I had the
impression that this whole year I had performed poorly. So, imagine
what I felt as I sat down with my coordinator to plan this coming year,
and the first thing he says is:"This has been a productive year, hasn't
it?" My impression had been wrong.

Now, as some of you know, I used to live in a very small room on a
seventh floor in Amsterdam, my "View With A Room." Now, my dear sister
finished her degree, and decided to go back to Argentina - she was born
there, so according to the constitution there, she is Argentinian -
after nineteen years, basically to see what would happen. My father
provided her with the initial contacts, places to stay and a ticket,
and off she went. What this meant for me is that her one-room
appartment in Amsterdam is now the place that I live. Heaven has
decended on me: I have my own kitchen.

Moving was a 'different' experience, though. I couldn't find anyone
with a car, so it had to be done with a special bicycle: a kind of big
bulky tricycle with a kind of big wooden tray on the front. I had
never driven one of those before.

Now, I'm a Dutch boy. This means that I was born with a dick and a
bicycle between my legs. Believe me, I am no stunt-man but I _know_ how
to cycle. I can avoid trams, I can jump curbs, I can out-maneuver
Porsches, and all without really trying.

This tricycle, though, was something entirely different. It is so big
and bulky, it needs a special kind of brakes, which reside on the bar
positioned between your legs. This means you actually need three hand
to drive it: two for steering and one for braking. The first few
seconds after I took it from the rental place, I almost found myself at
the bottom of a canal.  I got the hang of it, fortuantely.

So we moved most of my stuff in two rides. Three people from Incompleta
were there to help, one I chartered specifically for the catering. Food
is important when moving, I'm sure even Joan would agree on that one.
Elisabeth performed yummily, and all in my new own kitchen.

My parents helped me move the last of my stuff in a small van. After
that, I cleaned up the 'View..' - pretty easy when it is totally empty
- and left. I was actually very very happy when I handed over my keys
to my neighbour so she could give them to the landlord, especially when
thinking where I would live in the future; did I mention I have my own
kitchen? I didn't really realize how much I hated the old small room
until I left.

So, I have a new adress and phone-number, write it down if you
might ever be coming this way:

FJ van Wingerde
De Wittenstraat 11 III a
1052 AJ 		     (AJ are my brothers initials, by the way.)
	Amsterdam

(0)20 686 3308

Ob motss: I'm still a fag.

							FJ!!