Knock Knock, anyone home?

Dear Readers,

If there are any of you still following, that is, I'm back!

Where have I been? Down the rabbit hole, into a real piece of work called Brussels, Belgium since January 2014. Life there has been more like a black hole, since I found myself sucked into a vortex of work, culture shock from the most inefficient country in the northern hemisphere and riding an emotional roller coaster until a premature departure in mid 2015 from the city that brought you macarons, a pissing dwarf and the orchestrators of the Paris terror attacks.

Writing about the 1.5 years in Belgium would read something like Eat Pray Love meets Stephen King's Misery. Or just Misery, haha. Come to think of it, I could be more positive and actually write it like a self-help book from Tony Robbins except I won't be repeating the same phrases every few paragraphs. And there would be a sort of happy-fucked-up-ending.

The ending would be where I am presently writing this post: in my very spacious apartment in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Yes, from one ISIS hotspot to the next. How I ended up here is the stuff of chapter 23, The Short And Lurid Affair With Brussels.

To sum up my brief re-introduction, it's been 6 months since our family installed ourselves in KL. Life has settled into a routine: I've settled into a semi-expatriate life in Malaysia, Julien is almost 5 years old and goes to school; he speaks 3 languages fluently and counts 1 to 10 in French. It seems like I have come to the end of the last circle of my middle aged life.

What now?

I am figuring that out as I speak to you, dear Reader, and I promise (as much to myself as to you) that I will revive this blog if it is the last damn thing I do*. Till next time!


*Unless there is an actual attack on my neighbourhood by the now infamous terror organization, in which case I will be slightly inconvenienced with subsequent posts.