Hallo, ik ben Arthur

28-02-2014 – Friday

 Hallo, ik ben Arthur. Apparently this means ‘Hello, I’m Arthur.’ I do hope so, otherwise I am making a complete fool of myself. My new Dutch friend taught me this yesterday and I believe her. She is trying to teach me some Dutch words; it’s a weird language. I have no clue as to how to say the words, but I know how to write them.
I don’t know if all Dutch people are like her, but she is seriously funny and a great person to talk to. I haven’t formally introduced you to her, so let’s do that … now. Her name is Belle, she is 15 years old and she lives in Rotterdam. Everybody could use a ‘Belle’ in their live. She is understanding, funny, easy going and very relaxed. I hope Evelyn is not secretly reading this for she might get jealous. (Dear Evelyn, if you’re reading this, there is no need to get jealous. Belle and I are just friends.)
Talking about Belle and Evelyn, let me give you the 411 in the 202. Belle gave me some tips and hints on how to tell when a girl is into you. Since then I have been trying my best to see any of those signs. Every time I noticed she was looking at me I counted how long she would look. Most of the times it was between three to five seconds. Which, to me, seemed rather average. On the whole she spent more time staring at the teachers, so where does that put me?
I’ve been wanting to talk to Evelyn for days, but I can’t seem to come up with a good reason to say anything. Actually, I hardly ever see any reason for talking to somebody. I don’t have to ask how their day is going, as I am there almost every minute of it; I know how their day is going, because I’m having the same one. It’s as useless as talking about the weather. You hear people saying things to each other like,’ Nice weather we’re having, ey!?’ or ‘Terrible weather, ain’t it?’ And the other person is likely to agree and say something like,’ Yeah, lovely, just lovely.’ Or something  like,’Yeah, awful, just awful.’ And they call that a conversation.
Then, when they come home, somebody will ask,
’ How was your day?’
And they’ll go,’ Oh, great, I ran into so and so.’
‘Ohw, did he say anything?’
‘No, not really.’
And that’s another so-called ‘conversation’. I call it a waste of time, words and oxygen! If I want to know about the (nasty word) weather, I will look out my window or walk the dog. If I want to know about tomorrow’s weather, I’ll watch the weather forecast on ol’ Aunty Beeb. Please, don’t bore me with tedious talks about the weather we’re having. So you see, I need more than just the weather or how she’s doing. That’s just not working. I’ll talk to Belle this weekend (hopefully) maybe she’s got some good advice.
Other unrelated news. Today Mr Owen padded me on the back for no reason. At least I had no idea why he did it. Then he said that he thought it was right what I had done. Still, it didn’t ring a bell. Then he said,’ Yesterday, in the hall, with Tyrone.’ I asked him who Tyrone was, then he laughed (don’t ask me why) and he explained that Tyrone was the kid who fell on the floor because I forgot to pull in my leg. I thought his name was Tyson. Maybe I got confused with Dyson – you know, the hoovers. I dunno.
Mr Bent is recovering just fine. He’s alive and kicking. His results came in and everything’s just fine. I believe he’ll have to go to St Bart’s every now and again for some check-ups and that’s it. I’ll be seeing him tonight and he’ll probably fill me in on all the details, or not. It’s not that I understand any of the difficult words in those reports, but I just love to hear him talk. I’m off to walk Cheddar now and to check up on the weather. Have a nice evening and see me tomorrow.  

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