Note to self: Read all notes and letters sent home from Camiel's school.

Apparently the kids were all supposed to take a lunch for someone else in their class, decorated and wrapped in traditional easter paper, flowers, bunnies, and all that other stuff. Camiel and I walked into the school building holding a plastic sandwich bag and a juice box with the girl's name on it, satisfied at having remembered to carry out this small task.
And everyone else walked in with baskets and boxes and gift bags full of ribbons and bows and flowers and chocolate eggs. 
Camiel was the only one who was not carrying a nicely prepared lunch.
Besides the shame of having missed such an important instruction probably sent home 
at some point, enhanced by the disapproving gaze of all the mothers who walked in with their kids proudly holding up their little easter offering, I felt terrible for the little girl who would 
probably be the only on in the class without pretty lunch.
As I left the building, I pictured her sitting in front of her meal, sniffling as the teacher explained to her that some people are forgetful and that life will present her with many more disappointments. I told myself it wasn't my fault (no one told me, after all, and besides, how in the world am I supposed to keep track of all these Dutch traditions that I have never heard of before?!), that it was too late, that it wasn't that big of a deal...until finally I decided that I had to do something, so I turned the car around and drove to the nearest store and bought some gift wrapping, tape, and scissors. I decorated the little bag in the car, wrote a nice probably grammatically incorrect note on the card, and rushed into the school building, hoping to sneak in before their snack time and put the sandwich and juice into the bag without being noticed, saving the day and making the little girl happy.
Instead, I was met by frantically busy mothers and a very frustrated looking teacher who were all trying to get the children in order for the picnic they were about to leave on. So much for secrecy. I looked for the food and couldn't find it. Finally I tapped on the teacher's shoulder, who turned and gave me a "don't bother me, I'm terribly busy" look, asked her where the food was, and she sent me off to one of the moms. The mom reacted similarly, then when I explained my mission she said in a tone that indicated nothing pleasant, "We wrapped it already." Oh. Right. Figures. So, I found the sandwich wrapped in yellow crepe paper and decorated with easter eggs, managed to squish it into the pink ribbon-dressed gift bag, then stood there feeling very disappointed and foolish, holding my good intentions in my hands.

As I left I realized that we had forgotten to pack a fruit snack.

What would I do without a fiancé to cheer me up?

Mrs. Bacciagalupe comes to visit her son Anthony for dinner. Anthony lives with a female roommate, Maria.
During the course of the meal, Momma can't help but notice how pretty Anthony's roommate was. She had long been suspicious of the relationship between the two, and this made her more curious.
Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Anthony and his roommate than meets the eye.
Reading his Mom's thoughts, Anthony volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Mama, Maria and I are just roommates."
About a week later, Maria comes to Anthony saying, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the silver sugar bowl. You don't suppose she took it, do you?"
"Well, I doubt it, but I'll e-mail her, just to be sure." So he sends his Mom an email:
"Dear Momma, I'm not saying that you took the sugar bowl from my house, and I'm not saying that you didn't take it. But the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Love,
Anthony"
Several days later, Anthony receives an email response from his Momma.
"Figlio mio, I'm not saying that you 'do' sleep with Maria, and I'm not saying that you 'do not' sleep with her. But the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the sugar bowl by now."


Four surgeons were sitting around discussing who they like to operate on.
The first surgeon said, "I like operating on librarians. When you open them up everything is in alphabetical order".
The second surgeon said, "I like operating on accountants. When you open them up everything is in numerical order".
The third surgeon said, "I like operating on electricians. When you open them up everything is color coded.
The fourth surgeon said, "I like operating on politicians."
The other three surgeons looked at each other in disbelief. One of them asked why.
The fourth surgeon replied, "Because they are heartless, gutless, spineless, and their ass and head are interchangeable".


And finally...How is a soyburger like a dildo?

They're both substitutes for meat.

sudden realization

i woke up this morning with the strong feeling of missing my family. this is the longest i have gone without seeing them. and i suppose the first time i have really missed them as much as i do now. i never really missed them alot before, sometimes a bit, but i always saw them every three to six months again for a re-charge and i talked often enough on the phone with them to satisfy my need for connection. but now the phone calls are a bit less and it's been over 8 months since my last re-charge.
perhaps the permance of this new situation is settling in for the first time. this is going to be part of my life for...well, the rest of my life, probably. both my parents have done this as well: moved far away from home, seeing family only once a year or sometimes less, not seeing family for years at a time. i suppose i grew up with the idea that this was normal, so being away from them for months before was not a big deal. but now, it will become more than a few months. i won't see my two youngest sisters grow up. i'll probably even miss a few important events, like graduations and weddings and babies...
not that i didn't know this when i decided to come here. nor does it make me wish to turn around and leave. for one thing, this would be the case no matter where i lived, unless i tried to start a global rotation, moving from sibling to sibling to parents to sibling every so often... 
so, despite the impossibility of getting my whole family in one place permanently and despite my
choice and desire to be here, i still will have days like this sometimes... 
and that's good i suppose.
luuk will just have to work on making those millions so we can afford random trips around the world every 6 weeks.  :)

More fun news...

- This guy thought it would be cool to swim the amazon. His journal is pretty interesting, actually.

- Three cheers for Sydney.

- I suppose I'm free to run around and have lots and lots of sex now... Just kidding! Drink green tea folks, it's good for you!

blissful despondency

The world is covered with a thick haze. Everything is weighted, slower, as if submerged in beautiful white water. Rowing the boat across the canal is a surreal experience. The water is dark and still as glass. I'm filled with an over-whelming urge to jump in. I feel lost in whiteness.
But I experience no panic, rather a sort of drowsy peace. The birds slept in today. All is quiet. I can actually stare at the sun, a big white ball glaring through the clouds, without my eyes hurting right away. I'll probably go blind some day just because of that one minute today. Suddenly the white becomes unbareably bright. I squint my eyes, burning and filling with tears. For some reason, I think it would feel good to let the tears keep falling. Instead, I look away from the white world, let my eyes settle on something dark for a few seconds.  "I will follow you into the dark" replays in my head...the time for sleep is now...

Geez....

what the monkey?

Of weddings and love and domestic things...

 We checked out reception/dinner locations this weekend. We have narrowed it down to three... now we have to compare prices and specific possibilities of each, and pick one. Luuk really like one, while I and his dad favored another. But, since all are good options, compromise won't be too much of a problem... (Right, Luuk? Did I ever mention how handsome and manly and wonderful and giving you are?) ;)

My future-mother-in-law paid us a compliment this weekend. She said that we seem like a couple that can make it.  We didn't have any doubts about that or anything... but it's still encouraging. 'specially coming from one of the most important critics - the mom.

We also went to a house-warming party for one of Luuk's friends this weekend.

(K...this kid next to me is licking the door. Wtf?)

Anyway...house-warming party... made me really want to have an apartment/house of our own. Man...I am turning domestic or something. Burgelijk... It makes sense though, I think. I feel out of place here. I need my own space.

You know, they say that women are more territorial than men. I wonder if that's true...?

I had a really sick dream last night, that I won't describe here for your sake...but everytime I think about it, I feel my throat tightening and my stomach starting to make the first movements of throwing up. I should stop thinking about it. But it keeps flashing across my brain.

(Seriously. Kids are kinda dumb...how hard is it to figure out that if something is too big its not going to fit in the little dump-truck and you should find something else to put into it instead of pushing and attempting to squish the big thing in and screaming and wailing when it repeatedly doesn't work?)

Sweet.

 This is pretty cool.

So sad...

The amazon is drying up...

Crashing into boats

Normally, the wind comes from one direction everyday. Sometimes it blows really hard, sometimes not. I generally don't even notice the wind anymore, except on really really windy days. I've gotten so used to rowing that I have learned to automatically compensate for the extra one-sided force by rowing harder against it.
Today, the wind came from the opposite direction. And I didn't know what to do with myself. 
I scrambled around in the middle of the canal, drifting in the completely wrong direction while I
fought the automatic urge to row in the same direction as usual. I ended up rushing at a surprising
speed toward the other docked boats.
Beautiful.
It's a good thing these boats are made of some sort of metal.

Two years is long enough to warm up any cold feet.

 Well, I passed the driving test. Not without incident. Of course. My driving instructor decided to drink coffee instead of ride along. No big deal. 'Cept, that left me to make conversation and drive on my own with this very intimidating exam-giver-person. When he met me, the first thing he said was (in a strong imitation American accent) "So, you are Canadian. And you think you can drive?" I smiled, tried to be nice, not too nice, ignoring the fact that he seemed incapable of smiling. "Where you were you born?" "Calgary." "Ah. I've been there." "Yes? It's a nice city, isn't it?" "No. Not really. It's too big. Everything is too far apart. I thought it was ugly." "Oh. Well, I suppose I can see that. It has it's charms though." "Nah. Only the stampede." "Right." Crap. Why is it that this makes me so nervous? Any other time I would find 
someone like him slightly amusing. Circumstances, I suppose. The entire ride was like this. Uncomfortable periods of silence, then attempts at conversation that somehow always ended up going back to my being American/Canadian...he wasn't mean, he just seemed incredibly unimpressed. Which is fine. But for some reason, uncomfortable.
So, anyway...driving. I started passing a truck at some point and the man sitting next to me gruffly said "No, stay in this lane, we're turning right." So, I quickly switched back to the right lane, then looked for the street. Ah, there, half a block past the green light. I moved toward the turning lane and kept driving, only to practically shit my pants when he slammed on the brake. "The turning light is red." Turning light? Where? Fuck. Right next to the green light I so happily was driving through. Shit. Who puts a turning light half a block before the street, anyway?! Ugh. This country! "Oh." Nervous giggle. "I didn't see that." Obviously. Pff. Shut up, Amanda!
He made absolutely no comment. That was worse than if he'd started yelling at me. We drove around for another 15 min., me trying to be more careful, more aware, and a better driver than I'll ever be in any real situation, him sitting next to me, staring out the window. I was absolutely certain that I'd failed. That's a really stupid, but somewhat important mistake to make. Fuck.
So, after the test, we went inside. We met my instructor who's smile immediately dropped when she saw us... Great. She knows. She whispered to me "how'd it go?" I shrugged and made a face. Dunno.
We sat down. "Well. Let's see... The biggest thing that you need to work on is
watching for bikes. You need to look for them more carefully when coming across a bike path." Heh? I tried so hard to do that. Way more than normal. I even exaggerated my head turns so he couldn't miss them. "Ok. I'll work on that." "It's really important that you look for bikes." "Yes, I know." Fake-American accent comes back, "It's one of the most important things to remember when driving in this country. Always look for bikes!" No smile. "Yes. I understand. I thought I was looking enough..." Crap. That's a stupid thing to say. Don't argue! "No. You didn't. So. Work on that." A couple seconds silence. No comment about the light at least. I suppose it wasn't really necessary though. Then, for the first time, he smiled. He stuck out his hand and said, "But for the rest, you drove just fine! So, congratulations. You passed!" What? No way. The bastard! He looked very pleased with himself. I had to admit to myself that this was quite funny. As I was leaving the room, I heard him chuckle quietly. I smiled to myself.
Ok. That wasn't too bad, after all.

The rest of the weekend consisted of a disappointing dinner at a very interesting, well-decorated, charming Mexican restaurant. The food was good, but not Mexican really, and very expensive. Ah well. Luuk paid for my meal to celebrate my passing the exam. I paid for his meal to celebrate him popping the question two years ago. I suppose you could call that reverse-Dutch. Or something. 
We were going to go to Molly Mallones for St.Patty's and to further celebrate...but believe it or not, we actually forgot to go.
Don't ask.
The market on Saturday morning; an attempt at ceviché (which turned out quite well, if I can say so myself...); quesadillas for supper one day, fish, octopus, shrimp, and who knows what else, with rice the next day; some Settlers; a couple movies (Ghost World: good. Lost in Translation: I love it more each time. Eyes Wide Shut: meh.); attempts at sleeping in (I can't sleep; something
is wrong with me); and lots of great conversations with my hubby-to-be. (Sigh). I love that guy.

Gotta love them UV rays...

 Yesterday I had my last driving lesson. I had a different instructor. He thought it was super cool that he was "teaching" an American. He asked if I had any friends or sisters around here. I told him I actually did. He thought it was cool I could speak Dutch. He didn't want to speak English.
We talked about differences between US and Holland. He asked if I had any single female friends available. I laughed. Then told him not to try the long distance thing. It sucks. We talked 
more about differences between countries. He told me how much he 
LOVES the US.  He commented again that it would be great if I had any single girlfriends
around here. I smiled. He complimented me on my driving. Told me again how cool 
the US was. Then asked if I knew any single American girls. I didn't respond. He said he
was kidding. I half-smiled. 
He was nice. And talked alot. Which does make time go faster...Driving aimlessly 
for two hours isn't particularly fun, especially on a sunny day. And for all you single
female friends of mine, I'm sure he'll still be available in December if you come to the wedding and want an international fling.
Tomorrow is my driving exam. People keep telling me that the test is really hard and that I shouldn't be too sure that I'll do well. I can't help but think that my five years of driving would be somewhat of an advantage. But perhaps that's irrational and I should be extremely worried.
Meh.

This weekend: St. Patty's Day. A very important historic event occured on that day two years ago... anybody know?

sunlight: it does a body good.

 K. So, I tried, unsuccessfully, to post the pictures again. Not sure what the deal is. It's not the computer, cause last time I tried on a different one. I guess I am just a bit stupid with computers. Ah well. The pictures didn't really do Berlin justice, so I will leave the city to your imaginations instead of disappointing you with low-quality-cellphone-camera-shots. Plus, my face is in half of them, and we don't need to see that too much. ;)

Yesterday was sunny. Carmela, Dane, Luuk, and I took a nice long walk to some park I've never been to before in Groningen to sit in front of a pool of dirty water and soak in some desperately needed UV rays with many other like-minded and equally sun-deprived Dutch souls. I am not sure if I should be amused or worried by the fact that people rush out in hordes when ever the sun stays out for longer than 30 min. I like that people enjoy the sun so much. I fear what that desperate rush means in terms of days of sunlight in this country (or lack-thereof), and the effects on my future psychological health. I forget how much the sunlight affects my sense of contentment.

Today I put the kids down for a nap (which in itself deserves mention: Jules finished his sandwich, asked for milk, then said "Moe (tired). Slappen (sleep)," and walked to his room where he waited for me to put him to bed without complaint!), then I took a book (which also deserves mention...I'll elaborate later to prevent this from becoming a terribly confusing sentence), pulled out a lawn chair, sat down, and promptly fell asleep with the sun shining on my face. My cheeks are now slightly pink. I feel pleased and lazy as one of the chubby cats that wander around the yard. And I think if all days were like this, I could possibly enjoy my current state of affairs instead of grudgingly tolerate them.

Which brings me to this book... My mom told me a long time ago she thought I should read it. And then Luuk did just recently (unaware of my mom's comment). So, amused at this, I reluctantly accepted the book from Luuk. "The 7 Habits of Highly Affective People". I know. It's a self-help book. Which normally I hate. But perhaps I am allowing myself to be more open-minded. Or maybe my standards have dropped a bit. Ormaybe it's actually really not be that bad. In any case, I am not hating it as much as I expected and will admit to occasionally 
enjoying it. 
Mostly, it's one of those books that has basic good sense advice that you nod your head to and say "Of course, that's obvious", but would never have really considered unless someone pointed it out to you on paper.
Maybe it's cause I feel so lost sometimes that I'm even taking this book seriously. I dunno. I'm struggling.
Momentarily, I am considering: what point-of view do I see my life from at the moment and could it be better?  Before you scoff, understand this: I have been looking at this year as a transition year; my job as just a means to an end (somewhere to live, a house, food, bit of a spending cash, that's it); this whole situation as something to be tolerated until next year when things will inevitably get better. And, generally, that's what it's been. 
But, what if I looked at it differently? 
Mom keeps telling me that God was involved; that I am with this family for a reason; that there is some meaning to life, my life, right now...  This might sound like a really silly discussion. I dunno. But at the moment it's not, to me.

But now I am going to get some more sunlight. I'm trying to store up for then next couple of weeks until the next time he decides to come out.

Cheers.

Groeten

I tried to post pictures of Berlin, but they all showed up blank. Not sure what to do about that. So I deleted them from the blog cause a bunch of white spots on the page looked stupid.

Berlin: Very cool (I enjoy using that word, just because each time I do, I see Henderson cringe and Rose say "cool means cold!"). It was actually colder than here. Bit less windy. Saw the wall, of course. Well...the last bit that's left. There are pieces placed randomly around the city. Checkpoint Charlie (apparently well known...I'd never heard of it before...so the cool factor didn't really kick in till I read all there was to read about the place that was written on random boards around the area). Lots of old buildings - beautiful (I love old architecture. Could never tell you about the style or era built in or anything of artistic importance...but I like to look at them). Checked out a few museums. A monument to Jews (looked like a field of coffins, sorta like a maze of grey boxes...hard to explain). Enjoyed the sauna in the hotel (didn't know we were staying in a hotel with a sauna, so I didn't take a swimsuit, so I had to go in my underwear, which was fine cause actually most people there went naked...mostly older people...whatever...I'm cool with that... [k...who am I kidding? It's a little weird to sit in close hot sweaty quarters with middle and older aged people who shift positions without regard to what's...umm...showing]). We walked everywhere. I love walking through cities. And I loved the city of Berlin. It's very different from anything in the Netherlands - much bigger, and in some ways I suppose more American (there were ridiculous numbers of Dunkin Doughnuts and Starbucks to be found among the 17th century churches and government buildings), but in other ways completely different. The city exudes history. Even the way that newer buildings have been placed next to buildings centuries old speaks of its complicated past. I was momentarily sad each time I heard of or saw pictures of certain buildings that used to sit in this particular spot where that soviet style apartment block now sits or where that abnormally shaped modern office building is... War is so...scarring. I don't know what other word describes Berlin better. Scarred and beautiful.
Meh.
Getting a little melodramatic.
(Some where in the background I hear someone yawning..."Booooring!").

Funny highlight: We found a coffee shop called "Balzac Coffee". We checked it out, just to see what their coffee tasted like.
'twas good.

Other: We stopped in at the Guggenheim Musuem (much smaller than the New York version); filled with post-expressionist work. I loved it. Made me want to paint again. Some day.

Sidenote: Luuk and I are very different from each other in one very crucial manner - he is a goal-oriented person, and I am an experience-oriented person (is that a contradiction in terms?). This makes for walking together through cities and museums a very...ummm... interesting experience.
But love conquers all. (Which means: he walks slower).
:)

I should just trade my face with my ass so people will recognize me for what I really am. A big bum.

last night: went to decemberists concert. very glad dane convinced me. i got a free month pass at the concert hall. some girl just gave it to me. i never saw who it was, just heard her voice. i never got to thank her.
before decemberists: "lavendar"...something. i told dane the group looked like a 
bunch of old men who found a cute little girl to sing for them. the old men were super cool. the drummer, precise, intense, intentional, two long dark braids (sorta native american style...though he looked more italian or irish or something). the pianist, good as far as i could tell; had bit mop of stringy greying hair; reminded me of the dog with the floppy ears from the muppets. and the guitarist was older too, not particularly striking. she, the vocalist, on the other hand, was either one of those girls who tries too hard to be cute by talking in a sweet little voice and doing half-assed ballet on stage...or she was high. i'm starting to think a combination of the two. good voice, just kinda annoying. weak lyrics.
but then, what do i know about music?
anywho. decemberists were incredible. i should go to more concerts. i fell in love again. (hehe...
not quite. but i really enjoyed them). 'twas super fun.
there were four kinds of people at the concert: 1) the people who love the music (of all ages - lots of "old" people); 2)old people trying to be young and hip, looking really out of place and 
not quite enjoying themselves; 3) drunk guys who just wanted a party and thought a concert was a good way to go (they were funny, till they started jumping around on my feet); 4) girls who paid 20 euros to get into a concert and then proceed to talk as loudly and annoyingly as they could and push through the crowd to talk to other people they knew around 
them and occasionallydance with elbows and knees flying everywhere, completely ignoring the bands that were playing (some guy behind us finally got pissed off enough to tell them not-so-politely to shut the hell up - they walked away muttering about how rude people can be). 
now i'm going to dye my hair back to blonde. shower. pack for berlin. cook for the kids. and leave for 10 days! woohoo!
cheers.

At the mercy of a child

This morning. It was time to go to school. I told Camiel to finish get his shoes while I quick went to the bathroom. Just as I was getting ready to sit on the toilet, I noticed a big black blotch on the wall, just three feet away from my face. Yep. A spider. A big black one. With a big round body. Thick legs, the kind that all are the same length 'cept the front two which are longer and look kinda like groping arms. I hate how spiders move around. They test the surrounding area by reaching a little bit with one leg, then another, then another, until they've tried with all eight legs. It's creepy. I prefer bugs that scuttle. You know, quick, smooth, non-groping. 
Needless to say, my body went into panic mode. No shit scared out of this here girl - any desire to use the toilet vanished in seconds. I ran out of the bathroom still pulling my pants back up. My heart 
beat way over healthy limits. Hot and cold flashes. Sweaty palms. I took a broom
back to thebathroom (I debated about using a mop...but it'd be too messy).
I took a deep breath to steady myself. No one's gonna do it for me... It's surprising how calm I can be in a situation of utter fear. I knew what I had to do, and I was just about to do it, 
when Camiel walked in the room. 
"What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna kill that spider."
"Why! Spiders are nice."
"I don't care. I hate spiders. I have to kill it."
"No! Spiders are nice! Mom says they are sweet. We can't kill it."
"It can't stay in here."
"I'll take it out for you."
Remember, this is a four year old.
So, he tried several different approaches, but I think despite his assertion that spiders are nice, he was a little afraid of it as well, cause he didn't ever get close enough to even touch the thing, let alone move it outside. Finally, he touched it with the broom and made it fall onto the bathtub rim. (Imagine your worst fear suddenly being in a position that it had only to crawl a few steps toward you and it'd be at your feet...then you'll have a taste of my immediate reaction at that point.) Despite my emotional instability, I managed to stay calm - or is it frozen? - and in one place. Finally, Camiel put a little contain in front of the spider and told me that he was certain it would go in the container while we were gone and that then I could take it outside and let it go without hurting it.
Right. As soon as I'm back, I'm pulling out the broom and squishing it to a million bits of groping squirming mush.
Of course, when I got back, the spider was no where to be seen. Now I am constantly doing little circles, checking the surrounding area for black blotches on walls or ceilings; everytime 
I move, I imagine I feel a spider on my neck or ankles; I had to sweep
toilet sides and under and behind before I'd sit on it, and even then I
rushed out of there like most people rush in.
I shoulda just killed it when I had the chance.

Conversations with a 2yr old

scene 1:
jules, do you have a dirty diaper?
"nee."
i can smell it.
"nee!"
how bout we go change it?
"nee! nee! nee!"
you'd prefer to sit in your poop all day?
"nee!"
so should we change your diaper?
"nee."
ok. fine. go play. tell me when you want a clean diaper. (walk upstairs, to another room, where i can't smell him. seriously. this kid has some rancid poo.)
"'manna!"
yes?
"new diaper?"

scene 2:
alright buddy, in bed. (books been read, read a second one just for good measure, closed the curtains, nap time!)
"boekje?" (book)
no, we just read two.
"boek?"
yup, we just read a book. time to sleep.
"nee!"
yup. want your blankets on you?
"nee!"
ok. see you later. (turn to walk away.)
"nee! blanket!"
you want the blanket?
"nee!"
ok. bye.
"blanket!"
yes or no?
"blanket."
ok. (start putting blanket on him.)
"nee!" (followed by kick, almost in my face, knocking blankets off...)
ok. no blanket. bye.
"nee! blanket!"
last time. yes or no?
"blanket."
(put it on again.)
"nee!" (he kicks it off.)
alright. sleep well.
"nee!"
(walk out of room.)
"nee!"
(close door.)
"i want blanket!"
(ignore him.)
"'manna! blanket!"
(make coffee.)
"nee! nee! nee!"

scene 3:
are you done with your food, jules?
"nee."
k. eat up.
"nee."
alright. (start taking plate away.)
"neeeeee!!!"
k. then eat.
"nee."
(take plate.)
"neeeee!"
(put back down in front of him.)
"nee." (he pushes it away.)
(take plate again.)
"neeeeeee!!!!"
(put on counter.)
"neeeeee!"
do you want it or not?
"ja wel." (yes.)
(last try. put on table in front of him. he pushes it away.)
"nee."
ok. we're done.
(pick up plate. throw food out.)
"neeeeeee!!!"
(go make myself some coffee.)
where's the bailey's when i need it?

relief

few things feel as satisfying and good as blowing your nose clear 
of all the snot that has been building up in your head that makes
breathing almost impossible  and it feels as if your skull is going 
to burst from the pressure or your eyes are going to pop out of place.

Madness

It's too early to wake up. But my alarm is going off already. I can hear the kids.
Breakfast is busy. Camiel is telling me stories about what he dreamed last night and why he likes bugs and where he is going to hide his toys and that I can't go through his stuff and that he'll be mad if I do and that he changed his mind, I can but I'm the only one, and that he is sick today and can't go to school.
Quick check email.
Camiel is still talking, as if he didn't notice I left the room.
That kid talks more than anyone else I know. And he loves to make noise. And argue incessantly about absolutely irrelevent things. He got mad at me last week during supper because he was telling me that if I left the table I'd get in trouble and I told him I was still sitting at the table so there was no reason to get mad and he told me that I was breaking the rules if I left the table and I asked him where I was sitting and he ignored the question and started yelling that I better not leave the table. At which point I was really annoyed and wanted to leave but I was feeding the baby so I couldn't anyway. Why do I let a 4 yr old annoy me so much sometimes?
(Sigh.) That was last week. This week's been pretty good.
It's Thursday. That means tomorrow I can leave after I drop Camiel off at the neighbors.  That means today all I have to do is pick Camiel up at 3...
What to do...
Check my email again.
Dane tells me that I have a difficult job. He's sarcastic.
It's true. It's really not that hard. Why do I hate it so much some times?
I think it's boredom. Boredom will drive a person mad.
Maybe I'll do some yoga.
...
After half an hour I quit. The room is too hot and I'm too sleepy and all I want to do is lay down on the mat instead of balancing on one leg and holding my hands above my head.
Shower. That sounds nice.
Ten minutes later the shower drain stopped working. I have water up to my ankles. The shower ledge is only a couple centimeters high. It keeps nothing in.
Guess I'll clean the bathroom.
While I'm at it, I'll do the kitchen. 
Oo!, someone's talking to me on gmail chat. Nope. Gone. Bummer.
K. The kitchen. Coffee sounds good.  
While I make that, I'll check my email again. Maybe someone's talking to me... Nope.
Back to the kitchen.
I think I'm addicted to the internet. Either that or I'm just desperate for any sort of communication with the outside world.
Only an hour and then I can go pick up Camiel, dump him at the neighbors, then go bother Dane for a while.

i had some strange dreams last night...

-I am lying in my bed, sleeping. I slowly wake up to someone poking; he's 
whispering something, but I can't make it out. It takes me a few seconds 
to realize that I don't know this man, and then another to realize that he is 
very big, scary, and looks a bit like a dirty sailor. I try to scream but voice 
is still gurgly, like it is before you had a chance to clear your throat in the 
morning. I try to scream again, but he stuffs a piece of my blanket in my 
mouth. I realize he's going to kidnap me. I try to scream over and over again. 
Suddenly, I hear someone yelling. I hit my heal on the end of my bed. I 
realize that I am now awake, yelling and kicking around in my bed. There is 
no one there.

-I am with my cousin, Nita. Apparently I have a new dog. He's very small
and has hardly any hair. We are supposed to walk him. But he's not allowed 
to poopanywhere. I feel like I'm lost in a chapter of "Brave New World". I'm 
worried that he's going to poop and we'll get in trouble, or that he'll get a 
stomach-ache from holding it in. Nita tells me not to worry: they now have 
little doggy-poopy-extractors in public bathrooms. (I will spare you of details 
at this point). Problem solved. We head back to the house. Nita giggles and tells me I have a huge booger hanging out of my nose. Ah. That's why 
everyone was looking at me weird. I clean my nose. Then look ahead at the 
puppy. His tail is sticking straight up, like a cat's, but stiff. He's waddling. 
Poor puppy.

-I'm on some island - it looks a bit like Isla Mujeres in Mexico...but not quite. Dane is there. We are looking for a good bar or somewhere to get pinacoladas. Suddenly the beach changes. The waves are huge and on the beach, right next to out feet are really sharp rocks and shells that if we stepped on, I know we'd tear our feet with. We turn to talk to some tourists. They are all women with big boobs and small bikinis. They are scared and won't talk to us other than screaming that we are all gonna die.

-I think we're on the same island. We are inland, going down some stairs that look like they lead to a subway. There are dogs in out way. I take a step and one gets up and starts growling at us. A creepy, toothless, unshaven old man grins and tells me "not to worry little girl. They won't hurt you." I don't believe him, but he have to go down the stairs. The dogs start to chase us. (Things get a bit muddled here.) We are running away. In the meantime, one of the dogs' story plays in the background. He was tricked into joining the group and now he can't get out. One of his best friends joined because he thought it was a way to fight racism. He used to be a big black man with earrings and huge muscles. Now he's chasing me. I want to feel sorry for him, but can't. He's biting my ankles. Then I find myself awake, sweating and breathing hard, in my bed. I can hear my pulse in my ears.

-Everything is grey. I can't see anything. Just mist. I hear voices. High pitched. Then a low rumbling. I think its the water heater (which is in my room). I wake up. It's the kids. I want to sleep again. My alarm clock says 6:58. Is it worth sleeping for another 17 min? No. I crawl out of bed. My ankles are kinda sore...

 

Question

I often wake up 60 to 30 min before my alarm, because I have to pee. 
Instead of getting up, peeing, and then going back to bed for the last 
few minutes of time available to me for sleep, I lay in bed, trying to
ignore the fact that my bladder is about to burst and progressively
getting more and more painful. I manage simply to roll around in bed
finding the most comfortable position that does not press more on
my throbbing bladder, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping that I'll
some how manage to doze off. Then, my alarm goes off and I have
succeeded only in using up my last hour of sleep so that I could jump
out of bed, tired and annoyed with myself, try to throw on some
clothes without losing bladder control,and rush to the bathroom
before I pee my pants.
Why do I do that? 

Update:

Friday: I took the driving-theory exam. It is not uncommon for people to have to do 
this twice. 

(Argh!!!! I had a section here written about it, and it was lost somehow between writing and that little button "publish post"!!! @#$%&!!!)

Ok...once again: When I did the practice tests from the study-book and online, I consistantly got 7-15 answers wrong, while on the real test you are only allowed 6 mistakes. The test is in Dutch and alot of Dutch people don't pass the first time. Needless to say, I was absolutely certain that I was going to fail. But, I had to try anyway, so I signed up and after several delays in the past few weeks, finally found myself in the test room. I was assigned seat 36. The test consisted of 50 questions, for each you are given 30 seconds to read and type in the right answer on the keyboard in front of you, and probably 10 of which I wasn't quite sure about. After the test came the worst part: waiting for the results. First the results were handed back to those that failed. Seats 1-7 all were called, then 12, then 21, then I almost had a heart attack when 26 was called because in Dutch you would say 6-and-20, or 6-and-30...then 32, then 34....my heart pounding, my hands sweating, I almost stood up to accept my papers back...37! Haha! I passed! The guy on my right actually cheered when he realized he had passed...the guy to my left swore loudly, then looked embarrassed and left as quickly as possible. I smiled non-stop for the rest of the day. I passed. :)

Later that night: met with a wedding planner. She took forever to get to the point, talked alot about why we should use a wedding planner, what she could do, what the benefits were, etc. She was very nice though, so even though my mind wandered a bit while she and Luuk did alot of talking, we got the details of our intentions for the day out in the end, and she seemed to know what she was doing. She really liked the 
fact that we wanted to keep it as simple as possible, with no extras. We liked the 
projected price range. 
Saturday: met another wedding-planner duo. They were more professional looking, 
more to the point, but absolutely flabergasted at our no-nonsense approach. "What? 
You don't want flowers arrangements in the entire church? No limo? No dj? No full-day gigantic party?!" The best part was that because Luuk did most of the 
talking, since we were discussing in Dutch and I am naturally a bit less talkative than he is, they kept asking me if I was sure Iwanted this too, as if they thought that he was the one calling all the shots on this and all my life-long dreams of a big flowery wedding were being ignored... They couldn't believe that I would agree with this guy.  As if we didn't agree together to plan things this way. Hehe! Their disbelief was amusing. In any case, we could go with either, basically who ever is cheaper. :)

Ah, which brings me to another, very important point: the wedding has been moved up! We are shooting for Dec. 28... Hopefully we can find a location for that date. So far, the options are super cool and I can't believe the church that we might marry in! It's from the 1600's! (Sigh). I can't wait. It's going to be fun!

(Once again, this page keeps messing up on me, so there are random weird breaks in the outline. So annoying... Ah well.)

for my third post today...

IT'S SNOWING! IT'S SNOWING! IT'S SNOWING!!!!!
Big, fat, wet chunks of snow are falling everywhere. It's amazing! Woohoo! 
(Apparently, I missed snow...) 

ridiculous quote:

In response to the stadia lock-up after the death of a police man during the riots after a soccer
game in Italy:

"Deaths unfortunately form part of this huge movement which is football and which the forces of order are not always able to control," Mr Matarrese was quoted as saying.  "Football should never be stopped. It's the number one rule: football is the industry... do you think there's an industry that would close its factories and not know when they're going to reopen?"

Sign of the apocolypse, Jeff?

 

not-quite-wide-awake, it's a typical morning...

it's morning. i am dreaming about shopping in the middle of a war. we aren't looking for the normal stuff, but army supplies. the army supplies aren't normal either though. they are promoted like clothing in style, draped over skinny and unrealistic mannequin, covered with glitter and sequins, and even some have embroidery. all around, we hear bombs and people yelling "save me!", "mama!", and other garble noises. not sure who "we" is... i just know there is someone else there.
i wake up suddenly to the sound of someone crying. (quite common...works better than my alarm. i can never fall back asleep, mostly cause i'm too annoyed. unfortunately, it sometimes starts before its actually time to get up. then i get really annoyed.)
"mama! maaaaamaaaa!"
muddled responses by one of the tired parents follow.
i groan and roll over. i start to doze again.
more squeals.that's the two year old. he squeals when he's frustrated. usually when he's trying to do something to difficult for himself. like put on his dad's shoes, which keep falling off each time he takes a step. each step, of course, is followed by a loud squeal. right now, though, it sounds like he's taking a bath. probably doesn't want out.i pick up my cellphone, which is lying next to my bed - 7:04. i could sleep 11 more minutes, or get up. i can't sleep anyway.
while i'm making sandwiches for breakfast (we have bread every day, for breakfast and for lunch. i am so sick of bread... i've started eating fruit for breakfast. probably healthier. i get hungry quicker though. then i just eat more fruit.), i hear camiel saying in a whiny, please-give-me-sympathy voice, "i'm sick! i can't go to school."
he tries this every morning. i keep telling him that we cannot believe him if he tells us the same story every morning and then its not true. i tried once to tell the story of the boy and the wolf...but it didn't really come out right in dutch. he looked at me like i was stupid. meh. he'll learn eventually.
this morning, he tried to convince us that he was in pain, that his head and armpit and knee and rib and head and whole body hurt. i told him that it sounded really serious, so we should take him to the hospital; the doctor will probably say he has to stay there all week and get a shot every day and probably take really disgusting medicine too and eat really gross food. camiel looks slightly disconcerted at the though. "well, i'm not that sick." i tell him that if he's not sick enough to go to the doctor, he can still go to school. he looks annoyed with me, but starts to eat his breakfast, and quickly forgets that he's supposed to be sick.
jules, the two year old, is in the meantime running around the house naked, yelling "nee! nee! neeeee!" apparently he's in his toddler-puberty (aka, the terrible-twos). he doesn't want to be dressed. again. finally, his dad catches him and holds him down. then proceeds a small wrestling match between 6ft tall man, 2ft. tall kid, and a diaper. i'm glad he's doing it today. i'm afraid one of these days i might swat the kid on his little squirming butt. that'd be the end of my nannying days.
now, everyone's gone but myself and the lil'uns. the baby's spitting and sputtering in his chair, and jules is running around with a very stinky diaper. i think i'll let him sit in it for a while - he'll just poop more later. then i'd have to do it twice.
instead i'll just tell all my non-children-surrounded college friends all about my incredibly interesting mornings and hope once again that this blog is not too long.
ah well. it keeps me sane.

schedule for today: coffee, diapers, naps for kids, ironing for me, read a bit from the driving theory book, and call dane up to get out for a bit tonight.

Now for something less...negative.

(Started this on Friday, but got distracted by a kid or something...)

Ok. That's out of my system.
New blog.

So...yesterday (Thursday) I went to Amersfoort to hang out with Carmela (cause it's the closest middle point to visit between our respective 'homes'). After a frustrating experience that involved an empty bank account, the resulting inability to take the train, and a map that cut off just before the city that I had to drive into, I got to the station and met Carmela almost an hour late. She's a very forgiving sister. Apparently you gotta be with me sometimes. :)
We found this interesting bar that was blaring hard rock (Metallica, ACDC, etc.), had pictures and parts of Harley-Davidsons everywhere, consisted of wooden chairs/tables/bar, even had the taps coming out of motor parts. I think they were going for the "southern" feel. I woulda really liked the place if it didn't also have confederate flags all over the the place. I couldn't help but be slightly uncomfortable. I half expected to see Nazi flags hidden in some corners, too. I wonder though if they simply didn't realize what the flag is associated with...

(time lapse... now its monday)

I got lost on the way to Amersfoort, then also on the way back. I tried to take a short cut, but I somehow managed to make a full circle and come back onto the same road I had been on before, heading in the direction of Amsterdam. My map did not cover that side of A'dam, so I got lost.
Getting lost in any Dutch city is easy to do and very frustrating. Getting lost in Amsterdam...well, lets just say it is not a happy experience. I would have been ashamed if my mother could hear my regular outbursts each time I realized that I had missed another road I needed and that I couldn't turn around to get back to it cause I was surrounded by one way streets that curve into the wrong direction. I finally ended up in the absolute center of the city, where I finally parked, and walked the rest of the way to meet Dane, Andrew, and 'Cheka'. We found a cute little bar, full of older men, where they served peanuts and gave us funny looks. The one other woman in the bar was quite drunk and very talkative. She eventually came over to our table, asking where we were from, to which each time she answered "Sue-pah!", and slurred in a very strange accent several other questions to which I don't believe she understood the answers. She said she was from NewYork, that she had married a Dutch man whom she met once when her husband-at-the-time was shooting a documentary elsewhere. Apparently her then-husband found out, they had a big fight, she left the two men to figure out their differences, and took a trip to Holland. While there her husband died in a car accident. I guess the other guy came here, they married, and now she was at the bar while he was sleeping in his office. Happy woman. I felt so sad for her. It was pretty clear that she was at this bar more often. She warned me about the dangers of marrying a dutchman. I smiled and told her I'd keep them in mind.
How do people fuck up their lives so much?

The rest of the night consisted of getting lost again, this time with Dane sitting next to me. He offered his navigational skills for a ride home, and I think he assumed that the reason I got lost had everything to do with my airheadedness and lack of directional abilities or something. Five minutes later, during which we had promptly gotten so lost we had no idea where we were, he was swearing under his breath. As our little adventure continued, our mumblings got more loud and more clear. We did eventually find the way, at which point I realized that I had been really close to the VU before i took a turn that led me to downtown earlier that night. Ugh. Ah well. It was exciting. Sort of.
Getting up the next day was not.

And that brings me to Friday, which was another story.

The weekend was much better.

And now it's Monday again.
I can't wait for the weekend!

Can i complain just one more time about this @#$%^! country?

I was supposed to take my driving-theory exam today. But that didn't happen. Why is it that in a country that seems to thrive on rules never actually makes any attempt to make sure that all the fucking rules are fucking clear? (Sorry. Lost it a bit there.)

Deep breaths.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Uuuughghghg! F-I-A-C-K!!!

I'm really annoyed. and frustrated. and sick of this kinda stuff.

Do I do it to myself? I really wonder. Maybe I'm a walking self-fulfilling prophecy. I keep making things go wrong some how. Don't ask the right questions. Don't even think about the right questions till it's too late. How is it possible that one person could run into so much previously-invisible red-tape? Or complications? Or whatever the hell you can call this...? I must be doing it to myself.

It's not the world against me. This country doesn't hate me. And even though the computer seems sometimes to be a live, spiteful, naughty thing, it really isn't purposely trying to make my day just a little more difficult.

It's just me.

morning ramblins

i hung out with andrew on tuesday night. super sweet! got home at 1am. got up at 7am. that was a bit of a bitch. but worth it. we also found a perfect irish pub. we'll be going there much more often, i predict.
talked to ann yesterday. it's been waaay too long. and talking to her was exactly what i needed at that moment. ah, how i miss that girl.
something is wrong with my browser or my blogger or something. i can't get on to certain people's blogs through my links; only through their comments. super annoying.
i just had left over fajitas mixed with scrambled eggs for breakfast. it was divine! sorta glad the kids didn't like them too much. they sure liked the tortillas. but wouldn't touch the real food. pff. i don't get them. they like weird things (that kids normally don't like) like mollusks and shrimp and sharp cheese. but they won't touch simple beef with tomatoes and onions. seriously. ah well. they weren't too happy to find out that since they didn't eat, they actually couldn't have dessert this time. perhaps next time they'll actually taste what's on their plate before pushing it away with a disgusted little face. ingrid really liked the fajitas though. at least someone recognizes good food when they taste it!
plan for today:
-second cup of coffee
-walk to driving lesson place, pick up papers, schedule exam (eeggh!)
-shower, attempt something with my hair that only looked cool on the day i cut/dyed it, now looks like a bob. not my thing...
-help dane move
-pick up kid
-rush kid to house
-throw kid through the door to the neighbors
-rush to train station
-meet carmela, dane, andrew, and andrew's friend who's name i forgot cause its super weird, in amersfoort (very cool castle-like fort-thing there...gotta check that out)
-find cafe, drink more coffee
-supper somewhere cheap
-amsterdam: find bar, maybe a huka bar (fuck off dane, that's how i spell it).
-drive back to house, hopefully at decent hour
-sleep

aaaannnndddd....that's it for now.
cheers.

About a 4yr old.

Ok, Camiel. Before we go in to the school, we're gonna make a deal. What are you gonna do when I leave?
"Umm...I'm gonna fart!" (He smiles, pleased with his great idea.)
Alright. But, what else?
"Umm...a really big fart!"
Right. Well, how bout you give me a kiss and I give you a reallly big hug (dikke knuffel...I like that term), and then you sit on your chair, and I leave.
"Ok. And then a fart!"
You can fart as long as you want. But, are you gonna hang on my leg like yesterday?
"No!"
Are you gonna cry and whine and follow me to the door?
"No!"
Good. Now, I'll race you to the school!


Haha! I beat you!
"Nuh-uh. I always win."
But I got there first!
"So. I still win!"
Hmm. Convenient. Alright, lets hang up your coat.
"Catch me if you can!" (He runs and hides, behind a small palm-like tree.)
Gotcha. Ok, coat.
"I'm getting away!"
Gotcha again. Coat.
"You can't get me!"
(I pick him up and drop him in front of his coat rack.) Coat. Now.
"You can't get me!"
(Ok. I just pull off his coat as he runs away and hang it up for him. Then I walk to the classroom. He's hiding behind the tree again. I ignore him. He follows me into the classroom.)
Alright, where's your chair? (Someone just grabbed my ass! Oh...it's him.) Right. Oooh! I see your chair! Race ya to it!
(Mad shuffle between big grown ups and 2ft tall kids ensues. He latches onto my pant pockets. Fine. I'll drag him. Walk to the chair, turn around, and sit on him.)
"mmph, you ffftoo heaffy!"
Oh, sorry. Didn't see you. (Hehe, smile to myself.) (I sit next to him for a few minutes.)
"I'm gonna fart!"
Oh yeah? Well, I'll tickle you!
"giggle giggle giggle!!!"

Ok Camiel, it's time for me to go. Can I get a hug? (I squeese him really tight, till he's giggling again.)
"Another one!"
Ok (Hug.)
"giggle giggle. Another one!"
Alright, last one.
"giggle giggle fart."
Ok, kiss. On your chair. See you later!
"Wait!" (His face changes in a matter of seconds from big smiles to an enormous pout.)
Yes?
"I want you to stay here."
I can't. I'm too old. The chairs are too small for me. (Small smile sneaks out. He hides it again.)
"But I want you to stay!"
I can't. I'll see you in a few hours! Then we can play again.
(I get up to leave. It's amazing how fast he manages to latch himself to my leg.)
Camiel. Remember our deal? What are you gonna do after we hug and I have to leave?
"Fart!!!" (Still attached.)
What else?
"A really stinky fart!"
Right. But you are also gonna sit on your chair and say goodbye, right?
"No! I want you to stay!"
(God, I really don't need you to test my patience right now. I unwrap his arms, walk him to his chair. He latches immediately. Try again. Unwrap, walk. Re-latch. Once again. Unwrap. Drag. Pops up like a bouncy ball, attaches again, at amazing speed He's like that kid in the Incredibles. Uwrap, pick up, drag, dump on chair. Squat in front of him.)
Camiel, you have to keep your end of the deal, otherwise I can't trust you.
"I'm gonna fart on your eye! giggle."
Camiel, you have to stay here, ok. I'll see you later.
"Ok!" (With a big smile, he reattaches. Aaagh! What do I do? I frantically search for the teacher. She's talking.)
Ok, on your chair buddy. (Try to stay perky...) I'll see you later today, ok! Have fun! (I practically run to the door. Right at the doorway, I feel something pulling on my pants pockets. I was so close!)
Camiel! That's enough. Go to your chair! (Shit. I lost it. Again.)
"But I want you to stay!" (Ahhh...the teacher sees us. Without a word she pulls him off of my leg, and drags him to his chair. I wave at Camiel and walk quickly to the car. It's time for some Hendrix. I notice that it's actually quite light out this morning. The sky is pink. The drive home is beautiful and relaxing. I make myself some coffee right away. Sigh. That wasn't too bad.)

revelation

i've decided that all my woes and inabilities to be one-hundred-percent, completely happy could be solved by changing my history to one in which i never moved and always lived in the same neighborhood so i never had to say goodbye to anyone and would thus never miss anyone or have to deal with the adjustment pains of the first few months in a new place. my problems would be solved.
but who wants that?
how boring.
my entire life would never have been as interesting as it is now.
so.
what was i complaining about?
i can handle being surrounded (temporarily) by children. i can survive a year of my closest relationships during the week revolving around a 4yr old, a 2yr old, and a baby... there's always the bar (and dane's happy face to cheer me up) at night.

whats so simple in the moonlight, in the morning never is...

i am not a morning person.
my life isn't particularly bright in the morning either.

comment yesterday:

other: "you have a depressive style of writing."
me: "i only write when i'm depressed."


conversation last night:

luuk: "when was the last time you were happy?"
me: "i was happy in iowa. well, there was always the element of missing people, you in particular. i couldn't be completely happy then..."
luuk: "before that?"
me: "i was happy my freshman year. i didn't have to deal with longdistance relationships then. though, i did miss mexico."
luuk: "ever been totally happy?"
me: "well, in mexico i was. sort of. i mean, i was really frustrated with people at the church all the time. and the last couple years i always had in the back of my mind that this was it, i'd be leaving soon... i guess i can't say i've ever been totally one hundred percent happy. but i have been mostly happy."


i'm starting to wonder if i am depressive. or just negative. do i simply not allow myself to be happy? what happened to "content in any and every situation"? is total happiness even possible?
actually, i think i am very..."in the moment" (to use a stupid phrase). i become super involved in my immediate life/emotions, and forget about yesterday quite quickly. which, of course, makes everything seem alot worse than it is. plus...its still morning. give it a few hours.

i woke up more tired this morning than when i went to bed. my head feels tight. my nose is stuffy. my ears keep popping. i think my cold came back for a second round.

cabbage smells really really bad in dirty diapers the next day. the house still stinks from the last one i changed. i can be thankful for stuffy nose. imagine the smell if i had my full sense... egh!

the delightful sounds of a crying baby beckon me.

ciao.

run.

I'm being chased by the monster in "Lady in the Water". Someone is next to me. He looks kinda like Scott, kinda like Paul Giamatti. There is a little girl crying somewhere. I run, but cannot get away. The monster keeps finding me and almost catching me. I hide in a tree. The monster lunges. His mouth opens wide, ready to devour me. Then he starts to beep.

I turn over and fumble for my alarm. 7:15am.
Damnit...
My body temperature starts to rise, and I notice the lumps in my pillow and the draft of air coming through some place in my blanket.
Fine. I'll get up.
My eyes are a bit poofy. I started crying for some reason last night while talking to Luuk on the phone. He unexpectedly asked me if I was happy. I burst into tears. I loose control too easily when I'm not expecting an emotionally charged question. Why was that one so charged, anyway?
I must be ovulating. Or something.
Throw some clothes on. My jeans are dirty. Crap. I don't feel like doing laundry. I put them on anyway.
Camiel is yelling something from the bathroom and Jules is wailing. Great start to the morning.
Climb down the ladder from my room. Avoid the top corner - the bruises on my knee from last time are just starting to turn green.
Someone's in the bathroom. I'll have to wait till they are out before I can relieve my bladder. I make a sandwich for one of the boys instead.
Jeroen walks by in his underwear. "Goedemorgen"; don't look up.
The kids eat breakfast.
"Camiel, quit playing, eat some food. It's almost time to go."
"Jules, keep your food over your plate!"
"No, don't play with your juice!"
It's all over the table. Nice.
Hmm, one of the youngest two has a dirty diaper. The whole kitchen stinks. I'll wait a bit, make sure he's done.
Camiel has to leave. He tries to sneak his toy in his pocket but it's too big. His dad tells him to leave it home. Camiel drops to the floor and starts wailing. Several attempts to calm him fail. Finally his coat is shoved onto him and zipped up, his arms pushed through his backback. He takes it off immediately and drops to the floor again. Repeat. He's dragged, his cries ignored, out the door.
Quiet again.
Should change that diaper.
I need coffee first. I fill the pot with water - oh yeah, I had to pee yet...run to the bathroom.
Through the door I hear Jules count, "One, three, eight, two!", and then he runs around the house at full speed, yelling something unintelligable. He's energetic today.
I hear the baby crying.
Deep breath. I study myself in the mirror. "Man, you look like crap."
Can't stay in the bathroom all day.
Ok.
Coffee.

the meaning of life

http://www.aboutlife.com/alphaviral/factory

it's january!!!

...and the weather outside is frightful.
we had a the craziest windstorm i have ever seen this past week. winds of over 140km/h. (it's still dying down today...). trucks were blown over, pushed into trees, lost control. trees snapped in half and fell over cars, bikers, and roads. roofs peeled off the tops of houses or were stripped naked of shingles. boats in the canals were pushed up onto docks and ships onto beaches. the entire train system was shut down for over 12 hrs, leaving over 1million people (can that number be right???) stranded and costing the company probably millions of euros. the craziest thing i saw was on the news: an airplane attempted to take off and was immediately picked up by the wind and began to float sideways. the funniest: a bird got caught in the wind and was blown, flipping head over tail, through the air until it got caught in a tree. poor thing. actually, another funny thing: we drive down a road to find a big tree stretched across it. a man in the car in front of us opens his door to step out. the door is ripped from his hand and snaps open, slamming across the side of the car. it hangs from the bottom hinge, and the poor man can't close it. two other men come to his rescue, and together they manage to push it back against the door frame, but it won't stick. in the meantime, the men are falling over cause the wind is pushing them so hard. crazy...
rowing was impossible. when i did try, i'm pretty sure i pulled every muscle in my back. i am incredibly sore this weekend. i need physical therapy or something.
yoga.
yoga would be good.
for now... doing nothing. reading some book that was originally written in english, and not translated to dutch, to improve my language skills. i think the story is stupid. but at least i'm learning more dutch.
ah well.
until next time...
cheers.

Oh, and for those of you who would be interested...

Alied had a baby boy, Marijn (pronounced Mah-rine), on Thursday last week.
I hope to visit them on Saturday. :)

"Repeat to yourself, 'I am super nanny, I am super nanny...' and you'll survive."

Carmela is coming today! She will be here in four (probably five) hours. Sweet! I'm excited! It's gonna be great to see her again! And fun to show her around. Weird to be showing someone else around here...I'm used to being the tourist...but I guess I've been here long enough.
I'm a bit nervous about going to the airport - I have to take the two youngest with me. Walking around in Schiphol with a 5month old baby and a 2year old boy is not exactly my idea of fun. And the baby is getting a second tooth already, and is super crabby. Jules is pretty happy though, and very excited about going to see the airplanes! So it might turn out to be fun anyway.
It's amazing how much nicer a room can look when you stuff everything into all available boxes and corners. :)
On a different note...Dane and I had a conversation last night about the US in the world. I mentioned that I wished, in a weird way, that the US would experience a war on their own soil. Not that this is a good thing...but it just seems that it's so much easier now for America to go to war because its always on the other side of the world and really means nothing to them. Even us who do not wish for war cannot possibly know what it is like and therefore do not actually care as much as, say someone from Iraq or Somolia, about the prospect of war. People here still remember the suffering of WWII. Luuk's grandmother lost family members, shot by the Germans. Many older people can telling you chilling and sad stories from those days. As a result, Europeans seem more hesitant to support war (though, I can't say the US seems all to supportive at the moment). They seem even less hesitant to joke about war. It has been a long time since the US has had war on it's own soil. America has forgotten what that sort of pain feels like. Like a child that bites because it no longer knows what a bite feels like, perhaps a nation, or at least a government, should be reminded of what the pain they are inflicting would feel like on their own flesh.
But perhaps I am speaking of something about which I also know little.

"The Little Mermaid" is done, and now the menu music is repeating itself over and over. Time to put Jules down for a nap.

Enjoy the snow, all you folks in the midwest.
I'm jealous.

Happenings

Let's see...
Survived the New Year. More than survived it - enjoyed every minute. I had the perfect amount to drink, just the right number of oliebollen (not too much, but enough to feel satisfied), played games (in Dutch!), carried on normal adult conversations (in Dutch!), kissed at midnight (in...French?), watched the boys blow up fire works, watched the (once again, very drunk) neighbors start a fire in the middle of the street, smoked a cigar, and danced all night long. It was good. The best New Years I've had here.
Next morning. News: Saddam is dead. Strange. He's been the bad guy for as long as I can remember. And now it, at least the part where he is concerned, is over.
You can watch it on youtube.
Who would want to see that?
I suppose I do not hate him enough to derive pleasure from watching him hang. The reaction here was, of course, a mixture of disgust and joy. Some are happy to know he's dead, others think this all was a horrible display. I do not feel much of either joy or disgust. As terrible as this sounds, I am too far away for him and what he's done to have an affect on me further than momentary horror. Theoretically, I suppose I think he got what he deserved. For some people, and in very few extreme cases, I think death should be their just penalty. Though, I must admit, I still cannot help but wonder who can actually be close up for those moments and live with themselves? I can support it easily from a distance but could I make the decision? Who could? Then again...I've never lost my family to a massacre or been raped and tortured...
Tomorrow I am taking the theory test for my driver's ed. Wednesday, my second driving lesson.
I found out that since I've had a license for four years already, when I get mine here, I can drive under influence of greater amounts of alcohol than the others in my class.
Luuk and I have decided to talk to a wedding planner. They are all forty year old women that love to plan other people's festive occasions. Entertaining, I promise!
On to studying traffic signs.
What a life.
Cheers.

April Fools

Remember that prank we played on April Fools last year? Maggi soup flavour blocks in the shower heads and icy-hot on the toilet seats? I found out today that it actually worked! Jan's girlfriend lived in East last year. We were talking about pranks, and she started telling about how annoyed she was with the icy-hot prank that some people did and how horrible it was to sit on the seat...I started laughing and finally had to admit why... Hehe!
Ah, belated satisfaction!

Post-Christmas

Short blog:
-Christmas consisted of three nights of celebration: Christmas Eve, went to church after yummy food; Christmas, church in the morning, another dinner that night; Tweedekerstdag (second Christmas day, actually official here) had big party and lots of food, which was absolutely delicious. Luuk's grandpa makes an incredible hare dish. His mom and aunts are splendid cooks, too.
-Dane came along; I think he enjoyed it. If nothing else, he was amused by Luuk's family. :) They have their quirks. I love them.
-Four year anniversary with Luuk on Dec. 27! Wow. It's been that long? I gave him cuff-links. He gave me tickets to Mexico. He also gave me his cold.
-In Groningen till Jan. 1. Tomorrow night, big party! Oliebolen!
-I'm sure I've gained at least five pounds...
-Luuk and I are very bad shopping partners. We both bought more clothes and lots of movies. Dane, we have more than you now.
-I'm broke.

Thought I'd share...

I am continually amazed at how much poop comes out of this two year old kid. How can something so small and cute produce such incredible amounts of something so intensely rancid that nothing can explain the potency of the resulting smell other than the reacting lurches in my stomach...?

In Mexico we had one of those butt-washer toilets in our bathroom. One of those would come in handy right now... I could just set him on it and walk away until the smell has been dissolved into the drain.

Let me restate both my hesitation to have one of my own little poop-machines and my amazement at the insanity of so many people out there.

Why do kids like Blue's Clues? The dude who does it is nuts...

First frost came yesterday. I took a walk with Jules and Raoul and admired the myst that lingered over the canals and fields, the thin layer of ice and zigzagging cracks, and the frost and ice covering everything that hadn't been touched by the sun yet. This place is really quite beautiful...
Last night, driving back from Uithoorn, I could hardly see 4ft in front of my car. The fog was incredibly thick. The water in the canal was super calm though. It looked like a mirror. Dark, misty, creepy, beautiful.
My car is doing weird things. Everytime I turn on the right blinker, the brights, or the fog lights, the wipers go crazy. But the windshield is pretty dry, so the wipers stick and make annoying noises. Never happens with the left blinker. Strange.
Coffee is good. I'm going to make myself some.
I slept like a rock the last two nights. Mind you, I purposely did not say that I slept like a baby...why do people even use that phrase? It doesn't actually reflect true baby sleeping habits. Babies wake up at least three times during the night to fuss and cry until you yourself wake up and give them some food. This past weekend I stayed home with the kids so Jeroen and Ingrid could have their first night away, alone, in four years. And sleep was not an option. Raoul woke up four or five times and simply would not sleep soundly. Finally I put him in bed with me, at which point he slept peacefully but I did not because of a combination of him sticking his feeting into my back, insisting on putting his hand by my face, and my being too worried about rolling over him. I'm never letting my kids sleep in bed with me. They'll never get used to it then, I won't have to wean (sp?) them off of it, and I'll have my own space. But, seriously, I am more and more debating the idea of having my own kids... Maybe I'll just adopt after the age of 3 so I don't have to deal with that stage.
You've gotta be concerned about a world full of people crazy enough to actually purposely have babies...
About that coffee...
Have a good one, y'all.

Why I quit the VU.

Last week I attempted to find my grade for my last exam. I found out that I had been kicked out (without any warning or notification!) because I hadn't handed in some paper from the city that say's I'm here legally. I got the paper, brought it to the VU, found out that actually, no, that wasn't the right paper, I needed a different one. Ok, so I go get that one. I could expect to be fully registered (finally!) by Monday, and then I could check my test grades.
Wednesday I got back to the house around 11pm, and an envelope was waiting for me on the ladder to my room. Ah, a letter from the VU telling me that I was finally officially registered.
I opened it, reading the Dutch side first. Thinking I misunderstood what it said, I quickly switched to the English side. No, I was right the first time: "Dear Miss Vanderploeg. We regret to inform you that you may not follow this study part-time... We are therefore returning your application file... If you wish to follow this study, please apply for the full-time program... If you are not happy with this decision, you may contact so-and-so and write a letter of complaint as well as a proposal for an exception to the rule to so-and-so..."
You've got to be kidding me.
I've been there for three months. The entire time I have run around from office to office trying to complete everything necessary for registration. I have talked to both the Psychology Department and the Hoofgebouw (main building...basically, the big guys), and even met several times with the secretary of the exam commission (who just so happens to be the advisor for the psych department). When I attempted to talk to anyone, I was always first sent to the other building where I was usually told that they couldn't do anything and I should go to the other building for help.
-I've already been there.
-Oh, well, I really can't help you, go talk to them.
-Fine.
Back at the first building.
-Oh, you're back.
-Yes, they told me only you can help me.
-Oh. Ok. Well, let's see what we can do.
Three months. Each time, my file was looked over for any missing details. Each time something else came up. But never once did any one mention that I couldn't even study the program in the first place.
What the hell?
So, what should I do? Sign up and pay for fulltime and just study parttime? Or attempt through several letters, more meetings, and another long line of bullshit, to be granted an exception?
I went to the VU yesterday to figure out what to do. First, to the Hoofgebouw.
-Yup, can't study parttime. Those are the rules.
-Why wasn't I told this from the beginning???
-I'm sorry, I really don't know.
-What can I do?
-Well, the letter says...
-I know what it says. Those are my only options?
-Yes. (Giving me an angry look, as if somehow my being angry about the past three months and this, the final straw, was somehow unfair or inconveniencing her...)
-There's nothing else-
-Those are the rules. But you should talk to someone from the psych department.
-This is ridiculous! How am I supposed to know this? Some one should have told me so I wouldn't have to go through all this running around. (I explain further about the last six months. She looks annoyed)
-Go talk to someone from the psych department. Maybe they can help.
-Fine. Thanks for your help. (Very sarcastic, angry undertone.)
To the psychology building. I run into the psych department advisor - ah! Just the man I want to speak to! I explain my situation. He looks at the letter.
-Oh, yeah. You can't study parttime. It's a psych department rule.
-Nice. So, why wasn't I told this before?
-I don't know. But it's not allowed.
-Well, I can't study full-time.
-I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. Those are the rules.
-Well, if the rules are so important, they should be made a whole lot clearer for students attempting to get into this place!
-Yes, well, that's the way it is.
-There's nothing you can do?
-Let's meet tomorrow.
-Ok.
But, after a couple of frustrated tears, a long talk on the phone with my mom, and a good cup of coffee with Dane, I've decided to forget it. I wished once that I could have an excuse to quit - perhaps I wished too loudly and God heard me. Suddenly I wasn't so sure about this wish. This sucks - I want to study! Maybe I should take this as a challenge, stick it out. Prove that I can do it. But, I think my mother is right about two things: 1) If I'm not carefull, I will stress myself out too much and at somepoint have some sort of breakdown. I am in a different culture, country, world, I have a relatively stressful job, I don't know many people here...etc., there are many reasons that I should be stressed already, and allowing myself to continue to be stressed by a university that has a horrible administration system is not going to help. The benefits are too low anyway - it's not worth it. 2) Perhaps God is breaking down a bit of my pride. I'm definately having lots of opportunity for that this year. But one of my biggest pride issues is doing things on my own. I like to be independent. I want to show that I can take a little shit without breaking down like a baby. But maybe this time I can't, and that's ok. So... thanks, Mom, for putting things in a different perspective for me.
Thursday I felt an incredible amount of regret, but now I just feel relief. Even the idea of not having to deal with the VU anymore has relieved some stress.
Now, on to finding a yoga class and maybe even a photography course!

There's some strange gases eeking out of the heater in my room...

I dreamed last night that Ross was pregnant. He had a cute little belly that stuck out above his belt. And no one thought it was weird. He even started using the women's bathrooms and chatting with women at the mirror while washing hands. He was, however, still the same old Ross. He still sat quietly in his own corner sometimes, rocking to the music in his head. And he still made kawing sounds whenever he saw Reid.
I never got to see what his baby looked like because I woke up before he hit his third trimester. Oh, the disappointment!

Quote: E.B.White

"[Grace] can be dissected, as a frog, but the thing dies in the process, and the innards are discouraging to any but the pure scientific mind."

Quote from "The Magnificent Defeat" (Frederick Buechner)

"For what we need to know, of course, is not just
that God exists, not just that beyond the steely
brightness of the stars there is a cosmic intelligence
of some kind that keeps the whole show going, but
that there is a God right here in the thick of our
day-by-day lives who may not be writing messages about
himself in the stars but in one way or another is
trying to get messages through our blindness as we
move around down here knee-deep in the fragrant muck
and misery and marvel of the world. It is not objective
proof of God's existence that we want but the experience
of God's presence. That is the miracle we are really
after, and that is also, I think, the miracle that we
really get."

Fotos

I borrowed a digital camera for a week, and this is what I got when I remembered to take pictures:

The canal that I cross every day,

with this boat.

The neighbor's windmill.

Beautiful Holland.

Swans.

They are everywhere.

(Fascinating, when you grow up where swans are nonexistant).

This guy hissed at me.

I took his picture and slowly backed away.

(He's more scary-looking in real-life close-up.)

These guys are also everywhere, but are super skitish and always fly away before I can take their picture. Getting closer was not an option...

Foggy mornings...sometimes whole days...

(Can you see the hundreds of geese in the field? They are loud, annoying in the morning...)

@#$%!!!

Damn it. This computer. It just erased a post I just wrote. 
Attempt 3 (yes, that's right...third attempt...lucky for you, it's shorter).

I feel drunk. 
It started last night. I went to the bar with Dane anyway. But even one beer was a bad idea. 
I felt as if I stayed in that smokey room any longer, I'd get sick.
The cat bit me again yesterday. I started to think this feeling was the result - maybe I got tetanus.
My jaw even started to feel stiff. That could be a result of constantly stretching it to see if it still
worked.
I don't have tetanus.
Driving home was surreal, taking the curves in the dark, with only the headlights to help me 
keep my balance. In my head, a dream from a few nights ago replayed over and over. 
In the dream I crash into the canal and almost drown before I'm saved from a friend of mine from Mexico. He died last year. In a car accident. 
Sleep didn't help. I woke up dizzy and off balance. The feeling is more dull now, but
if I turn to fast I have to steady myself or I'll fall over.
It's foggy out and I have to drive to Amsterdam. Probably not a good idea. 
Oh well.
I will pretend that I am late to GEN300 with the effects of last night's party still wearing off.
Cheers. 

That cat's aren't allowed in at night

It's almost 20*C outside today. This week has been full of record breaking temperatures.
Nice. 
Not so good though, in the bigger picture...
I took Jules and Raoul on a long walk. On the way we passed a house that we walk by everytime
we go on a walk. An old lady lives there and shealways waves at us from her window. 
Today she came out and offered me some coffee and Jules some milk. At first I was skeptical
(never met her, why's she offering me coffee?) but she was friendly, so we went in. There were three cats in the kitchen, sitting in front of a small stove heater. They are allowed in the kitchen, she said, but not in the rest of the house. She doesn't mind if they come in during the day, but at night they make a mess and she prefers they stay outside. She told me about her space heaters, which are strategically placed around her very small house, keeping it almost unbearably warm. She pointed out that
the heater in the old fireplace is broken because it used to look like real fire and it only heats but 
doesn't look nice. She should have someone come and fix it. It used to look like real wood burning. It was so pretty. She showed me her bedroom, also very small, and proudly pointed out that 
the space heaters keep the whole house warm, and there is one in the kitchen that uses oil, and 
the one in the living room that is in the old fire place gives warmth but is broken and doesn't look 
pretty any more. Her house is small, she said, but that is good because it is just her now. Her husband died a long time ago. He was a very good man. Her daughter lives next door though. Her daughter buys her her groceries so that she doesn't have to cross the canal in the boat. That is nice, because she is old. She's been here since she was 38 and now she is 88 years old. Her husband died a long time ago, but her daughter lives next door. She doesn't get too lonely. And some boys live close by. They used to visit, but now they go to school.
Did I want coffee? Yes, that would be nice, thank you. Oh, she is out of milk. Coffee without milk is no good - she didn't want it either. Perhaps another time. Her daughter was out buying groceries right then, she does that for her you know.
A cat walked into the room and she kicked lightly at him, telling him to go back 
to the kitchen. They are allowed in during the day, she said, but not at night because she can't watch them and make sure they don't make a mess. They like to sit in front of the heaters though, so she lets them in to warm up a bit. The cats do actually sit right in front of the heater in the kitchen, I noticed, they sit straight, chin up, belly facing the stove. I looked back at the lady, she had a huge grin on her face as she looked at Raoul, sleeping 
strapped to my chest. She touched his cheek and told me about her grandkids. They used to come around alot, but now they have school. She looked sad. She commented that his cheeks were cold. Good thing she has so many heaters, she said. They are very warm; the one in the kitchen uses oil, and the one in the living room by the fireplace used to look pretty but it's borken. She should get someone to fix it, but at least it still keeps her warm. 
Did the little boy want a cookie? Some boys live next door and and they used to come over a lot. But now they don't. They have school and friends and other things that keep them busy. It's too bad. But, her daughter lives next door. She brings her her groceries. Today she is getting more milk. Did I want coffee? No, that would be nice, but perhaps another time. Oh. Ok. 
I should go, I said. Oh, that is too bad. I should stop by some other time, because she doesn't know many people around here. She's from some other town. She just moved here and doesn't know anyone. But her daughter lives next door. Her husband used to live here, but he is dead now. He was a good man. Oh, the cat is in the living room. He likes it here, you know, because it is warm. Except, the heater in the living room is broken.
Well, thank you for the visit, I said. Perhaps I will see you again. Yes, that would be nice.
We left, and she closed the door behind us, with a huge smile on her face. I could hear her scolding the cats as we walked away.
I wish I knew her name.

Weekend.

My mom called on Thursday to make sure I wasn't depressed cause I was spending thanksgiving by myself. Heh? Thanksgiving? Oh, yeah. I forgot. Weird. Well...not really. It wasn't usually a huge deal in Mexico. Cept, we did get together with fellow missionaries for a huge meal. But we did that regularly enough that it didn't feel particularly different, I suppose.
Hung out with Liesbeth last night, stayed up till almost 4am. Had 4 beers and that was enough to give me a headache this morning. That, or I've been getting migraines my whole life but don't know that that's what those headaches really are. Or I have a tumor that's gonna start growing out the side of my head. I'm tempted to get a diagnosis. Today it was so bad I cried. I felt like such a baby. Luuk gave me a head massage. Very nice. I recommend it.
Liesbeth's new bf is sweet, good for her. But, I'm biased. He reminds me a bit of Luuk. Can't help but think he's cool then.
I am going to watch Memento now. Apparently it's a good movie. Never heard of it. Hmm. I hope it's good.

Nederengels

It's hailing right now. 
Not big hail, just little chunks of ice, 
but enough to make the roof rattle and the windows sound like they are about to crack.
I just set the coffee pot on and now the kitchen smells good. 
Like coffe. 
The kids are at school and the neighbors, so I have the house to myself. 
What will I do with my free time? 
Drink coffee, eat something, read blogs, wait till it's time to pick up Camiel.
Today I have my first practicum assignment.
I won't bore you with the details, but getting into a group was a mess.
Now that I am in one (kinda thrown in as an extra) 
my schedule isn't making it particularly easy to be much help. 
Ah well. It will work out.
I am beginning to wonder if I really am seriously affected by the weather. 
I joked about it alot before, but never really believed it. 
But then, I have a zillion logical explanations for feeling a bit down 
(lack of sleep, bad weather, need exercise, change does this, etc.).
None of it makes a difference.
I'm getting tired of translating all the time in my head.
Literally - it's exhausting.
I'm go drink coffee.
Cheers.

 Shit. There is something wrong with blogger...When I write, instead of fitting to the screen, the words just keep going till I press "enter"...so they end up off the page. So, I'm making each sentence a new line. Pff. Except for this paragraph...That worked fine. WTF. Egh. I give up.

What was I thinking?

going to a foreign country completely unprepaired financially.
finding a job as an au pair in the middle of no where.
spending money a bit too freely.
forgetting to pay for parking, resulting in a 47euro ticket.
not keeping track of my phone calls, resulting in a ridiculous cellphone bill (about which my wonderful fiancé, who was paying for it, is not too happy...)
not finding out exactly what is required for my current course at the VU.
assuming the VU would work out well.
assuming this would be easy...

what the hell was i thinking?

My head feels like a balloon loaded with lead...

this weekend:
- planned on taking 12:44pm train; would have worked if Camiel's class wasn't the last one out (15min late!), the neighbor's had opened the door right away (instead of leaving us standing there waiting for 5 min), and the fucking semi hadn't pulled out in front of me (cutting me off) and then driven 10km below speed limit, all causing me to miss the train by one minute (it was leaving the station as I parked the car...). ah well. i got to Groningen an hour late. it happens. alot, around here.
-was surprised at the station by Luuk, who was carrying 23 roses. :) (and who had been expecting me an hour before, but since he lost his cellphone, thought i went to his place, biked home, found out i'd called a zillion times to tell him i'd be late, biked back, and caught me just before i was ready to leave. cell phones are the most wonderful, helpful invention, i've decided.)
- used one of my movie gift certificates: watched "Babel" (very good!)
- the movie theatre: the kinda place that people who love movies but hate popcorn, crying kids, and blockbusters go; contains a classy (though not overpriced) restaurant and a bar; promotes european, cult, and independent films; red carpet, wide stairways, candle-lit, low lighting, classy atmosphere; extra bonus: less expensive than other theatres. nice.
- beat Luuk at Settlers (the card game...)
- slept in till 12 on Saturday
- woke up Sunday with Luuk's cold
- was ready to take the 8:17pm train last night (so I'd be home by 11pm), when a train broke down between Groningen and the next station, stopping all train traffic for hours; had to take the bus to the next station; a normally 15min train ride took almost 60min by bus; ended up taking different train (the one that stops at every station instead of going straight through); got home at 12:30am.
- waking up this morning sucked
- i did sleep very well last night (!)

Last night, "My Utmost for His Highest", topic was the new life after Christ and experiencing grace. I suddenly realized what part of my problem is: I have never had that black/white old-life/new-life difference. I grew up in a Christian home, can remember at least 5times praying ("this time for real, cause last time I didn't mean it!") for salvation, but cannot remember ever not believing in God... My life is really a series of old and new lives, neither of them really that different from the last. How do you see grace when you cannot compare it to lack of grace in your own life?

There's something clinking in the dryer...

Tuesday, went to HUKA bar with Dane. Tried new flavour: orange. Not bad. While smoking, the man with the smile from Dulac Bar came in, asking if we wanted pictures. I asked if I could take one of him with my camera. Had to explain that a couple times. In several languages. Finally, got picture with the smile man. When I told him I liked his smile, he smiled. Bigger than usual. He shook my hand before he left.
The cat attacked my ankles again today. Fucking cat. He made me bleed. I used to love him. But now I cannot enjoy his presence because I am watching him the whole time to make sure he's not preparing to pounce. He always waits till that second that I'm not watching. He's smart. Takes me longer to respond with a good kick. Today I threw him outside. And we were getting along so well...
I got a package from my parents today: books and chocolate from Mexico that is used for drinks. Best present yet. Though, Froukje promised to get me underwear. That's always nice.
The other day, I somehow managed to get a gigantic sliver in my finger. (K, so it wasn't that big, but you'd think it was by how much it hurt!). Took forever to get out. Now I have a scab under my skin. Weird.
I'm reading "Mere Christianity". CSLewis, brilliant. Maybe this will help...
Take it easy, all. Enjoy the weekend. I'm sleeping as much as I can! Oh, so exciting!

Er is iemand jarig, hoera hoera!

I got up at 7am today, half an hour earlier than normal. Not my idea, btw. Though, I should learn to think a bit more like Joshua who said that he liked to get up before sunrise on his birthday and stay up until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore so he could enjoy his day for as long as possible. I'm more content with sleeping and being lazy all day, but I like the positive outlook...it's a nice thought.
The kids came into the kitchen singing a song in Dutch that they didn't know (so it was more like every fifth word of the song as their dad sang in the background), each carrying a present and a huge grin. Very sweet. :)
Watched "The Little Mermaid" and "Finding Nemo" today with Jule (no reason for the undersea theme...just happened).
Drank too much coffee, made myself a super delicious salad (there is an incredible assortment of cheese in this country, goes really well with salad!), and took the kids on a walk even though it was kinda foggy today... The weather makes me feel like I'm in a Brontë novel.
My ring is too big for my finger suddenly and keeps flipping upside down which is really uncomfortable and annoying.
I'm going to Amsterdam to walk around and wait for Dane to get out of class cause it just seems like a better idea than sitting here. I feel like treating myself to a nice dinner...but eating alone seems too lonely for tonight. I'll content myself with being somewhere outside of the house, surrounded by adults (albeit, strangers).
Later we are smoking a huka (fuck the spelling...).
Ciao.

I listened to Bright Eyes three times in a row and smiled like I was on drugs the whole time...

Oh Ann. You're such a heretic. That's why I love you. :)

I've been thinking all week about what I wrote in my last posts, all your responses, and other blogs that I've read...but I really don't know what to think of it all, nothings really changed much, and I can't put my thoughts into comprehensible words, so I'm just gonna let this subject be for a while... I think what I want most is a night of wine and conversation till 4am to help me figure this all out or to confuse me more - I'd be happy with either actually.

It's fall. The leaves are finally starting to change colour and drop, I can see my breath in the mornings, my hands almost freeze off when I have to row in the morning mist or drizzle, and the spiders have disappeared. The other day it was so windy that (no joke) I was rowing as hard as I could and still sat in exactly the same place in the middle of the canal for 2 whole minutes before the wind took a break long enough for me to cross to the other side. I was starting to fear that I'd never make it... That was exciting.

I started a new course at the VU. Got lost, sat in the wrong class for 15 min before realizing that it was Logistics and not Research Methods, got lost again, walked into the right class finally 30 min late, of course through the door at the front of the class instead of the one in the back... Nice.