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Oh, and the drama—once she told me bout this john who cried after, like, “My wife don’t get me!” and I’m like, “Bro, take that sobfest home!” Total *White Material* moment—like when Isabelle’s all, “This is my place!” Tiff owns her corner, no cap. She’s scrappy, sassy, and I’m obsessed. Probs typos galore here, but whatevs, I’m typin fast, spillin tea. She’s a hot mess, but, like, a legend—kinda like me on a bad hair day, lolz. Thoughts in my head? “Tiff, you’re a frickin movie star, own it!” Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d watch her life in IMAX, no lie. Peace out, that’s my prosti rant!

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Then there’s the quirky Rue de l’Amour (yep, that’s a little hidden gem in one of those less known neighbrhoods) where I once hosted a mental health talk. The vibe there, soooo unexpected and real, kinda gave me chills. And oh, my fave spot – near the old Clock Tower on Dorpsstraat. Crazy scenes happen here. People pour their hearts out over coffee. My therapist brain just overflows sometimes with empathy.

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