As my twentieth birthday is rapidly coming closer, I've realised something: either I'm going to find myself some roommates, or I'm going to live alone for a long time after I graduate college. Now I'm not very good at being alone all the time. I'm fine for a couple of hours, even for a few days, but after that someone has to be around to hear my crazy thoughts before they drive me insane. So for a while I thought about finding myself some roommates so I won't be alone when I move out after graduating college. But then I went to Berlin, where I had to share a room...
I discovered one thing: living with roommates would drive me absolutely crazy. Let me tell you why.


1: The Bathroom Line
I slept in a dorm in Berlin, whihc is slightly different from sharing an apartment with people, but one thing won't be so different: the bathroom situation. For some reason there's always someone in the shower when you really really really have to pee. And there's a 95% they're washing their hair in there, making you almost pee your pants. Oh, and the minute you want to take a shower, someone slips in "just to do my makeup, I'll be done in five". Let's be honest, we all know you're not going to be done in five. It'll be more like fifty.

2: Getting Ready to Go Out
You'd think that everyone would be ready to go out together after two hours of bathroom madness, but no. There's always something missing. Mascara, lip stick, pants, you name it. At the very last minute people suddenly discovere they're not wearing a bra, or forgot to get their shoes. And for some reason it's not possible for you to even go to the supermarket while your roommate is searching her wardrobe for makeup/clothes/Narnia. No, everything has to be put on hold until the missing item has been found. Don't even think about suggesting the person who's lost something can catch up with you later on, oh no! That's not how we roll when we're roommates!

3: The Lost Key
So in the end, when the bathroom line has dissolved, the makeup has been applied and the missing pants are back on someone's body, you can go out with your roommates. I'll admit that: it's pretty amazing and you'll have a great time. But then it's time to go back and soon you'll find yourself in this situation: you arrive at the door and want to go back in after a long night and... there's no key.
"Do you have the key?"
"No, I thought you had it."
"But I don't."
"Guys, we don't have keys. It's one of those key card thingies."
"I didn't bring mine because it's broken."
"But you said you'd take yours!"
Everyone starts franctically searching their pockets and yells how they don't have a key, until the person who asked which of their roommates had the key, suddenly shows the key and says: "Guys... it was in my other pocket..."

4: Falling Asleep
After a long night with your roommates, you want to go to sleep. I'm one of those people who turns into a monster if you don't let met sleep, but when you have roommates, such things don't matter. You always end up talking until someone decided it's time to go to sleep and turn the lights off. For five long minutes someone will whisper: "Envy? Are you still awake?"
"Yes."
"I can't sleep."
"That's because you're talking."
"Guys, I can't sleep either!"
Silence... Then: "We had fun tonight. Did you have fun, Envy?"
"Yeah. I'd be having even more fun if you'd shut up."
"I had a great night."
"So did I."
I ended up buying earplugs and trying to sleep with my head under a pillow.

5: Rules Don't Apply to Everyone
There'll always be rules when you live with roommates. In Berlin we had the ten-minute shower rule, the only-use-the-bathroom-light-at-nigh rule and the you-better-be-extremely-freaking-quiet-if-you-come-in-after-the-others-have-gone-to-sleep rule. And of course all those rules were broken all the time by almost everyone. I like my rules. I like chaos, but only if it's mine. I don't like waking up at 3am because one of my roommates just came in screaming: "Guys, I need to tell you something! My dinner was delicious!" No, just no. In this case I will give myself the right to throw everything on my nightstand at you.

All jokes aside, I loved my roommates in Berlin. Most of the time they were the best roommates I could wish for. But living with roommates all the time? Sharing my space with them 27/7? No thanks. I'll just live alone with my three cats Harry, Ron and Hermion, and my hamster Zeus.

Stay Awesome!

Sometimes a song speaks to your heart and soul. The music, the lyrics, the videoclip, it all comes together and it's just the right song for you. When I find one of those songs I listen to it on repeat for hours, days, months on end. One of those songs has been playing in my head since Friday afternoon, when I finished my very last exam of my sophomore year in college. It's called 'Free'.


The first lines of my favorite song. The popped up in my mind the moment I handed my grammar exam in. The description fits me to a T, I thought as I zigzagged my way to the door, trying not to disturb my classmates. How many of them would want me at their party? Not a whole lot, I expect. My classmates and I are a bit of a weird bunch. Even though I've become pretty close to some of them, I don't feel like I fit in completely.

Was I even trying trying to find my place in this class? I couldn't help but wonder as I said goodbye for the summer to those waiting outside the classroom. I think I wasn't. I think I was busier trying to to find my place in this world. Any place would do, but finding that place had been difficult during sophomore year. Friendships in my class felt a bit strained at times. Careerwise I've only gotten more confused. Culturally I've become a walking contradiction. It's not easy to find your place in such a situation.

'What's boring to you is special to me,' a blog buddy once told me when I was complaining about how boring my country was. The Netherlands has a bit of an image problem, especially with people like me, who are used to sights like Machu Picchu at sunrise or the Fernsehturm in Berlin at midnight. So as of May 2016 I'm on a mission to convince myself and the rest of the world of the Dutch awesomeness. First stop: Kinderdijk.


Does the name Kinderdijk ring any bells? It probably doesn't, even though the place is on the UNESCO World Heritage list. It's only three kilometers from my front door, yet I'd never been there. I was about time I went over to check the place out.
Among the locals Kinderdijk is known for two things: the world-famous windmills and the endless stream of Asian tourists. I hadn't even crossed the river with a local ferry when I already felt the eyes of a group of South Asian tourists fixated on my hair and bright red bike... So I decided to try and focus on the windmills and ignore the staring I apparently had ahead of me.

I took the road along the river, since that was the shortest way for cyclists. Let me tell you this real quick: I was born and raised in the Netherlands and have seen my fair share of mills. But when I spotted the first mills in the middle of the fields, seemingly coming out of nowhere, I was a blown away. It's beautiful in a very simple way.


 I entered the site, zigzagging and making my way through a gigantic group of Chinese tourists. They were very happy to see me, because I added a little extra Dutchness to their pictures. By that I mean they actually pointed their cameras at me and took pictures so they could show their relatives they'd seen a real Dutch girl. This is literally the only thing I didn't like: if you look Western European, you will feel like an animal in the zoo. Apart from that, it's totally worth a visit. Here's why.
There are seventeen old windmills at Kinderdijk. They were built in the first half of the 1700s, because the land around Kinderdijk kept getting flooded. The mills were used to pump the water out of the area. Modern equipment has taken over their job now, but in case of extreme need the mills can still do their thing. Two of them were turned into museums, there are tours and you can go on a boat ride to get real close to the mills. Most important of all: it's the perfect place to take plenty of pictures.


What did I do there? I cycled all the way to the end of the road. Most of the Asian tourists walk up to the fifth mill, then turn around. Don't do that. Walk all the way to the end. You'll see different types of mills and eventually arrive at the best spot to take the cliche picture of Kinderdijk that's on all the brochures. It's calmer there and you can feel the calm Dutch vibes much better there. Until you get chased by angry geese. True story.

Since there's so much water around, there are also plenty of ducks, coots and geese. While the ducks and coots make for great photo material and are immensely cute, the geese will not be happy to see you. Watch out for them, they are evil! They immediately ganged up on me once I'd reached the end of the road. This resulted in me racing back to the entrance like the devil was on my heels.


Back at the entrance I had ice cream, because no trip is complete without ice cream, even though I was only half an hour away from home. There's a shop with postcards and good food. You can also get homemade apple pie there. That's not a recommendation, that's something you just have to do. Apart from that, let me know when you're dropping by, so I can give you a private tour :)


P.S. Now I can imagine you would like to know some actually important things (even though I already consider my geese warning important), so here's a little list of things you need to know if you want to plan a trip to Kinderdijk

• You can get to Kinderdijk by car or boat if you're staying in Rotterdam. I recommend the boat. It's called "Waterbus", goes quite fast and is awesome
• Access to the area where the mills stand is completely free. If you want to enter the two mills that are now museums and do all the extra things (like watching a documentary) you'll have to pay €7,50
• There are tours in English 
• The geese are EVIL!

Recently Kanra from The Lunar Descent and I started sending each other snail mail. E-mails and texts are nice and all, but nothing can beat the excitement I feel when I see an envelope or postcard with my name on it lying on the doormat. The mailman coming to our house is one of the most exciting things I know.
Okay, that sounds more pathetic than it did in my head, but believe me: it's awesome to receive snail mail. Just the fact that someone has taken time out of their day to sit down and put pen to paper for you makes snail mail so much more special than e-mail. That a letter travelled all the way from Pakistan to the Netherlands is kind of mind-blowing. Yeah, snail mail is great. But that doesn't mean sending it is easy. There are four major struggles when it comes to snail mail. Let me explain.

I've heard some people say that writing letters is a lost art. They are not wrong. What do you write to someone you text all the time? If something big happens, I text Kanra. If something small happens, I text Kanra. I text Kanra even if nothing happens. A Dutch duck can't swim across the pond without my Pakistani blog buddy knowing all about it. So I sit at my desk, staring at a blank piece of paper and usually end up texting Kanra instead of writing something on that piece of paper that was supposed to be a glorious letter but looks more like an empty piece of paper. What do I write to someone who already knows everything you have to tell? Simple:
Honestly, my letters are of such great quality, they'll blow your socks off *wildly waves sarcasm sign*

When I was a kid, my pen pal was already glad I took the time to write her a letter. If I wanted to make her really happy, I just had to write it on the fancy paper with illustrations of a mouse on it.
Nowadays my pen pal is a blogger and bloggers generally have higher standards than ten-year-olds. Especially when it comes to snail mail. Some add glitters and stickers and illustrations that look like they belong in a museum. Others add dried flowers or leaves or surprises. Then I come along with zero inspiration and basically do this:


Buying stamps is the biggerst struggle of them all. Here's the thing: I have tons of stamps at home, but apparently I need "internation stamps" if I want to send the letter I worked so hard on to Pakistan. To the post office!
By the way, the post office is on the other side of town. It's usually raining. And my only way to get there is by bike. Hurray. At the post office, I discovered that the stamps I had at home were just fine, I only had to add a "priority" sticker to them if I wanted to use them. Not the thing you want to hear after cycling three kilometers in the rain. And so I left with, but with a pack of overpriced stamps in my pocket, because there was no way I was going home empty handed and I didn't want to cycle to the post office in the months to come. On the bright side: my new stamps have cows and windmills on them.

'Go up! Up, up!'
'No, that's how I died last time!'
'On your left!'
'They're everywhere!'
'Eat it! Eat that one!'
'It ate me!'
'That's not fair!'
'I was definitely bigger than the one that ate me!'
'Stupid game... Shall we play again?'
When I was seven years old, this is what my lunch breaks looked like: my best friend and I would yell at her computer while playing a game called Fishy. My best friend was from South Africa and every time she visited her family there, she'd come back with awesome online discoveries. Fishy was one of them. The objective was to eat all the fish in the pond, while being a tiny fish yourself. My friend and I were terrible at it.
'We're never going to beat this game,' I said one day. 'I bet there isn't even a real end to it.'
'My cousin in South Africa did it. He said you'll get a message that you broke the pond.'
'Impossible,' I said. Little did I know that twelve years later I'd beat that game myself...

From Envy's Make it Happen List
#31: Play Fishy all the way to the end
Status: Awesomeness achieved

Throughout the years there have been times when I didn't think about Fishy at all. Sometimes I gave the game a try again - only to fail after five minutes of frantic keyboard slamming.
After eight years I still didn't believe what my friend had told me about the end of the game. She lied about South Africa more often, just to see how much nonsense I'd believe.
At 18 I came close to beating the game, but I got reckless. A big purple fish ate me and I swore I'd never play the game again. Until I saw Markiplier play and beat Fishy. The rumoured ending was true. I knew there was only one thing I could do: I had to play and make seven-year-old me proud.


My hands were shaking as I waited for the game to load. I was supposed to write a report on my trip to Berlin for college, but this was way more important.
With a splash my character in the form of a red and yellow fish was dumped in the pond. Quickly I brought the fish to the middle of the screen. I'd learnt my lesson all those years ago: lingering around the edges would get my killed before I'd gotten the chance to blink twice. The pond was full of enemies: every fish bigger than me would instantly kill me by eating me, even if I only brushed it's fin...
This time I had a strategy though: stay in the middle, run/swim from the big fish and let the small ones come to me. For a while this strategy worked great. It took me some time to get to the point where I could swim around and eat the slightly bigger fishies. Then, somehow, I was trapped in a school of big blue fish. I let my fish zip around the pond like a kamikaze pilot, my heart beating at full speed, my palms sweating. I slipped out of a very dire situation with a lot of luck and the remnants of twelve-year-old gaming skills. I sighed with relief - and got eaten by a purple fish twice my size.

Fifteen bad words that I will not repeat here later, I was ready to try again. Same strategy, different result. Sooner than I'd expected, but still after quite a long time, I reached the point where I could eat almost all the fish. It felt so good. I had all the power in the pond.


Within a few minutes, the end was near. I couldn't even move my fish around anymore, it took up the entire pond. Then the message popped up: I'd successfully destroyed the pond's ecosystem. Like a boss.


For five seconds I was very happy. Then I realized that my fishy had eaten the pond empty, which is quite a horrendous things to do. I felt bad for all the dead fishies in it's stomach. Yet in a way I was also really proud of myself. I'd played a game, finished playing it nonetheless, that Markiplier had finished too. I was basically at his level for a few minutes. Say what you want, but that's freaking awesome. And seven-year-old Envy? She would've beamed with pride if she could see me grin at a screen with a quite disturbing message.

Stay Awesome!

Dear future boyfriend,

I don't think we have met yet. If we have met, we've only talked through text messages. Either way, I think there are a few things you need to know about me. Don't worry, I'm not going to give you a list of demands and rules in Meghan Trainor style. But since you're the first who's brave enough to give me a chance, I thought it'd be fair to let you know what's up ahead. I hope you won't get scared and run away after reading what I'm really like ;) So, here goes nothing...


     I giggle when I read something funny. Not just a normal giggle, but an uncontrolled genuine giggle. It doesn't sound anything like my normal laugh, but I personally like it.
    When I tell stories, I talk louder and louder and make all kinds of gestures. It probably looks weird, but I can't help myself. Stories are too magical not to tell them with passion.
    I might be dating you, but I can't guarantee you that I won't have a crush on Captain America anymore. I'm sure you're amazing, but he's still Cap ;)
    I own a sarcasm sign. Half of the time people don't get my sarcasm, so I made myself a sign. It's always in my notepad, so if you ever need it, feel free to use it.
    I eat in bed. All kinds of stuff. Watching a movie in bed is just so much better when there's food.
    Every now and then I'll seriously think I'm fat. You don't have to do anything when that happens. It usually lasts a day or two, after that I'm fine again. Weird thing is that I can snap out of it if I eat some really delicious food. So if you get tired of my "I'm fat" thoughts, ordering a pizza should do the trick.
    I have the painful habit of walking into things. Walls, chairs, people... Everything and anything. I'll provide you with tons of schadenfreude.
   My best friend is very protective, so I hope you get along with him. I also hope you're completely fine with my best friend being a dude.
   I'm a bit of a dreamer and I will never give up on my dream of becoming a writer, but don't ask me what my plans for next year, month or week are. I'll just give you a blank stare, then list all the movies I want to see.
   I have periods of extreme self doubt. I'll try to push you away during those periods, but I'm already begging you to stay. Even though it doesn't seem like it, I'll need you most in those moments.
   I'll write about you. I love to write and capture what makes people special with my words. You'll find loads of shredded drafts when I try to describe what you mean to me.
   I'm new to this relationship thing, so I hope you'll have patience with me. Our first kiss is probably going to be the worst kiss of your life and I don't even want to think past that... I don't want to disappoint you, but my relationship skills are non-existent. Please bear with me.
    My plans for the future change about twice a week. This week I think I'm going to be a great teacher, next week I'm going to be a blogger, translator the week after that and after a month I might have forgotten about all those plans. I just hope you'll be part of my future, no matter what my plan ends up being like.
    One last thing before I go: I want to travel this world, but more than anything I want to travel the world with you.

Love,
Your crazy, insecure dreamer of a girlfriend
Envy

When I was in high school, people said I was a drowning otter. I got the nickname as a result of a clumsy accident that involved the guy I had a crush on. It was a rubbish nickname, but it stuck with me for a couple of years.
My college friends don't think I'm a drowning otter. They prefer to think of me as a plant. More specifically: a cactus. Prickly on the outside, kind of cool on the inside.
Personally I don't think I'm either of those things. If I'm anything at all, I think I'm a cat.

It's a little ironic. I'm allergic to certain kinds of cats. Completely my dad's fault: he's allergic to all animals with hair and passed the cat-allergy gene on to me. This means I'll never be able to become a crazy cat lady. And no, I don't want fifteen of those hairless cats, 'cause they scare the life out of me.
There might be a chance that my subconcious has spotted this problem a while ago and decided to solve it by turning me into some kind of cat in human form. You don't believe it? Here, let me show you.

If it fits, I sits
I like to sit. I really do. Walking is pretty awesome too, but sometimes I just want to sit. Doesn't matter where. If there's a teeny tiny ledge between two gigantic plants in my school's yard, and my behind fits between those plants perfectly, I will sit down there. This resulted in classmates calling me Mowgli, but at least I sat comfortably while they had to stand around. And that wasn't even the best place that I sat in over the past couple of months. The day my Dad brought home a gigantic box full of Christmas presents was even better. I fits, I definitely sits. Especially in empty boxes. Those are the best sits you can find.

Een foto die is geplaatst door Envy Fisher (@envy_fisher) op 17 Dec 2015 om 11:22 PST

The internet is my home
I love my country, but the internet seems to be my true home. Just like cats, I am some sort of appreciated here. That's pretty freaking awesome. I'm not as popular as the average cat, but I'm definitely a creature of the internet. I'm even on YouTube these days XD If I'd been a little younger, my mom probably would've made a million with videos of baby me riding a vacuum cleaner. Not making that up, that's actually something I did when I was little. Practically a cat, see?

That red dot needs to be caught
Yeah yeah, I know it's a laser pen, or just some little light. But for some reason I feel so fullfilled when I stamp my foot down in the exact same spot where that little red dot appears. Makes me feel like I achieved something. I'm really winning at life.

Source

Love me or hate me, no inbetween
You know how there are cat persons and dog persons? Some people are Envy persons and others are not. There are some people out there who've accepted all of my weirdness and have grown fond of it. Other people... not so much. People who are neutral towards me? Show me one, that's when I'll believe they exist. For now, I'll just say I'm like cats: you either love them or hate them.

Source

Not really trying
Don't think I didn't do my research. Surprisingly, this research included this article, and not just twenty thousand cat videos. But apparently cats are popular because they don't try to impress you. Cool, me neither. I'm just writing a bunch of nonsense on this blog so my head doesn't get full of randomness. I do things because I like to do them. Or because I'm curious about what would happen if I did something. Usually those things are stupid though. Curiosity killed the cat Envy.
Yet for some reason I'm not popular on the internet. Maybe I'm not a cat after all...

Okay, so maybe I should reconsider being similar to a cat. But you have to admit, it sounds better than 'drowing otter'. Or 'cactus'. Anyway, if this post didn't make any sense to you, I'm going to take it as a compliment: what cats do doesn't make any sense half of the time either.

Stay Awesome!