I want to be Belgian

Which brings me to the next two check-marks on my facebook map.
When I got back from Tunis, Meagan was already in Paris waiting for me. She and I met a couple years ago on the internet on a soccer forum. About a month later, I drove up to Quincy, MA and picked her up. Instead of driving her into the woods and killing her with an axe, I took her to a Revs game. We did that all season. And now, a couple years later, we're traveling Europe together. Good thing I didn't own an axe back then!
After a couple of days in Paris, we hopped a train to Brussels. If I'd known how close it was, I'd have gone for a lunch before now. I could! It's less than an hour on the TGV and the city is little and easy to navigate. It's also suddenly one of my favorites ever visited. "Don't try to be cool here," warned a handy text box on the map our hostel supplied. "People are polite and won't smirk at your low-riders or your swagger, but they're having a good laugh at your expense on the inside."
The ideal in Brussels is to be chill.
I think a lot of people say that, but this is the first time I've really seen a whole city, a whole people show that off. Evidence is everywhere. Meagan and I can't so much as stop and look at a street sign without somebody stopping to offer directions in their friendly Belgian accents, but we see many people strolling at a leisurely pace down streets only to stop at the intersection, turn around, and stroll back in the direction they'd come as if they're thinking, "Right well, enough of that. How about another beer?"
Which brings me to the fact that the Belgians are HUGE foodies. It seems to be the only thing besides soccer that they are avidly concerned about, and everything from the mussels in vegetable broth that one eats standing at outdoor bars in pretty squares before dinner to the fries, which are generally accepted as the best in the world, are prepared with meticulous care.
Meagan and I didn't really notice because we were too full of beer.
Beer is everywhere and it is amazing. We met up with a group of Belgian hashers at the Delerium Bar, which has a beer menu with over 2,000 choices. I'm not making this up. Their menu looked like a phone book. EZ Over, their GM, explained that it was a favorite bar for them because the Brussels hashers have a degree-program based on the number of beers tasted. Two others, a really cute couple, smiled proudly and admitted they'd just gotten their Masters' in May.
This made reason 902 I want to live in Brussels for a while.
The ever-helpful and friendly Brussels hashers -- Belgians through and through -- were perfectly cheerful about helping Meagan and me get home after beer number 9, when I would have been perfectly happy sleeping in, say, a nearby pond.
Except for a very nice hotel de ville, Brussels doesn't really have must-see tourist landmarks per se. No gotheic cathedrals or ancient structures. Apparently in their typical Belgian "meh, whatever" attitude, Brussels inhabitants decked a number of nice buildings in the 70's because they were, you know, in the way or something. It's not uncommon to see neat art-nouveau houses next to dingy convenience stores here. Belgians really don't care if things are ugly, just like they don't care if people are stylin'. The result isn't graffiti and litter, it's little street markets everywhere and a complete lack of zoning. I rather like it.
Brussels also doesn't have much by way of art or museums, so we spent most of our days (pre-beer) walking and enjoying what the city is famous for... chocolate. I know you've had good chocolate. Godiva or Ghirardelli or Leonidas or Lark-you-don't-understand-there's-this-place- in-my-home-town-and-they-make-it-from-scratch-and-it-is-so-good, and I am telling you right now that you've never had chocolate if you've never been to Belgium.
Have I mentioned you should go to Belgium? I'm going back as soon as I can. This time I want to see Brugge. And buy more beer.