re-goals.

my goal to finish my thesis two weeks ago has not be realized. nor my real goal, to finish last week. my new goal is to finish this week. but SPSS is against me. how can one analysis lead to so many interactions? how am i supposed to write about this in one concise paper that makes sense and says something interesting? egh. i can't wait to be done. i'll settle for a lesser grade, just to be done. february 24 is coming too soon. i'm starting to worry that i won't have the paper and my grades in on time to graduate then. but, there is an upside: as long as i am enrolled as a student (not yet graduated thus) i get money from the government. :)

identity

i was asked to videotape myself saying "my name is____and i am____". i found it surprisingly difficult. how to choose what "...i am___" to record for other's to see? what am i comfortable with them knowing i am? and do i even know, anyway?

"my name is amanda and i am___"
- a psychologist.
- an unemployed psychologist.
- an unemployed psychologist who doesn't know where to go from here.
- a bit lost.
- not a morning person.
- a listener.
- dutch.
- dutch with an identity crisis.
- not dutch, canadian-american-mexican-dutch.
- amused by life.
- avoiding my thesis project.
- procrastinating.
- graduating soon. i hope.
- strong.
- hmm, ok, sometimes not so strong.
- having a bad hair day.
- married.
- secretly enjoying playing housewife.
- worried.
- (temporarily) in the middle of a not-so-positive funk but generally actually quite happy, really.
- all of the above, for now. we'll talk next year again.

"sons and lovers"

finished "sons and lovers" yesterday while sitting around waiting for luuk's surgery (for carpal tunnel, simple procedure, still took all day with recovery and check ups and paperwork...). i enjoyed the way characters were described and developed. i found particularly interesting the relationship between the mother and father, the slow move from passion to coldness to resolute commitment and eventual tolerance. how often does that not happen in real life! (not to me of course, we have a perfect relationship). i had a hard time, however, relating to and empathizing with the constant battling love-hate relationships of young paul. or the painful dedication to his mother. i trudged through the last half of the book, hoping for at least some hot love scene to at least make it slightly more exciting only to be treated to less than explicit descriptions of any such behavior and the constant back-and-forth of "he hates her, he loves her, he wants her, he detests her...she hates him, loves him, wants him, detests him...". egh. the focus was on the inward struggle, never resolved, quite frustrating really, and eventually somewhat boring. poor lawrence. he must have had a difficult and un-necessarily complicated life. so much import given to emotions. had he, paul, only been more like his mother, willing at least to choose a route and stick with it, come what may. instead he allowed himself to be led by the lesser, unsteady rule of feelings, passion, desire.
i suppose, at some point, i have experience this struggle myself to some extent, "do i want him, he has some power over me, but i don't really love him, what to do, what to do?", and so on. but i never really stayed in such a position long enough for it to become a real problem. perhaps the one element of the story that i could relate to was the feeling of trapped-ness (is that a proper word?) accompanied with being with someone to whom you do not feel equal. one will always have power over the other, and the other will always suffocate the first. happily, i do not find myself in that situation now. perhaps partly due to resolute commitment, accompanied with steady sense and choice. passion comes in bouts, and affection is constant. love has many forms. i suppose that is all easier when the relationship started with is equal to begin with. i guess, after thinking about it a bit, that that was lawrence's greatest struggle. but i still think he was too emotional. ah, but so it is with all them artist types, no?
cheers.

ha! the g-spot does not exist!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8439000.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/8443465.stm

so we have all been fooled by Cosmo magazine and Redbook and Sex in the City and all those other "how to be a modern woman" media. bastards.

what is it with people and the obsession with sex anyway? it's great and fun, sure, but it's not the "be all and end all" that everyone seems to think it is, as one wise sex expert put it. people do the most silly things trying to get it, spend so much time and money and effort, in so many different ways, some kosher some not so kosher, to find it, achieve it, improve it, to reach this glorious end, this top of the mountain experience that yet never satisfies and keeps people going back for more and continuing their hunt for the elusive climax of all climaxes, which btw we should all have had, preferably before 30 and as often as possible.
but we (and i mean just people in general, no one in particular, and definately not myself of course)...we are so confused about sex, cause on the one hand its this grand thing that we must have, on the other hand we want to think its the most normal thing in the world, it's no big deal. and on the one hand it is the ultimate expression of love between a man and a woman (or a man and a man or woman and woman, if thats your preference), and on the other hand we pretend we can do it with some stranger and walk away unaffected. we even like the idea of fuck-buddies, for goodness sake, as if emotionless sex is good and scar-free.
woe to you if you have but one partner your whole life, just think of the experiences you are missing out on! "say what? you got married at 24? you never did it with anyone else? why the hell would you do that?! you haven't had the chance to live yet! to explore! to get out there and discover yourself! and now you are stuck, and so young too, with the same person for the rest of your life!"
but i prefer my choice, to pick one person with whom i can do all that, be free, open, safe, close with, sexually and not, than to spend my life looking for that perfect experience that never satisfies.
sex in and of itself its not so glamourous. its all the other stuff around it, the person, the commitment, the relationship, that makes it great.
that's my random two bits for the day.
cheers.

a hooter of a new year to you too!

i've been sleeping badly again. maybe it's from the move; takes time to readjust to a house, bedroom, ceiling... or maybe it's subconscious stress outing itself in my sleep rythms. anyway. it's annoying. sleep sucks and i'm tired. how to fix this?

the cats hate each other. they've had a couple of fights. both walk away with claw-fulls of each others fur. lovely. so far no blood though. i've decided i won't separate them until absolutely necessary. cept at night; no need to add yowling cats to my sleep issues. one more week and Schatje can go back to being the queen of the house. spoiled little puss. (edit: we are cat-sitting for a french friend who is galavanting through cambodia for a couple weeks; the cat [Kitty] is a big fat ball of white fuzzy fur; the cat we now officially own [Schatje] is a slightly less big ball of red fur...there is alot of fur floating around our place these days...if i yawn to big, i tend to get a mouthful of floaties, even after vaccuuming everyother day...)

taking the car for a checkup today. Bob is a little sick, it seems. he wouldn't start up the other day, and after a rescue by our local AAA-sort-of-thing, he choked alive but is holding on by a thin thread.

and i'm back to trudging through my thesis. my goal: finish it this week. my real goal: finish it next week. we'll see which goal wins.

procrastination = another word for that "not ready-to-work-terrified-of-interviews-in-Dutch-afraid-i'll-never-find-a-proper-job" feeling

i wondered to myself this morning if i am subconsiously avoiding finishing my thesis so i don't have to start thinking about finding a job. there is really no reason for me to not be done yet. this is ridiculous.
but today i am going to finish painting the bookshelf, hang up a mirror in the hallway, do some laundry, clean the house, do some shopping, mail some christmas/newyears cards (late, i know), and then see if i have time to work on stats before Froukje comes over for dinner.
i'm not avoiding. just bad at planning.

morning folks!

the move is over. everything we own has been sorted, boxed, bagged, thrown out, given away, moved, unboxed, slowly but surely placed in a semi-permanent spot on a shelf or in a drawer or on a wall. (weird, major de ja vu moment, this blog post here...). anywho, we are beginning to settle, almost all rooms are organized and looking normal, the smell of paint is slowly being replaced by the smells of a lived-in house. and i am starting to remember where i put things which is cutting down on the number of turns i make and number of drawers i open when trying to cook a simple meal.
so, what else is up, you wonder... (cause, yes, admit it, my life and goings-on are up there on your list of sites to check every morning while you drink your coffee... "email, facebook, own blog, Amanda's blog, news..."). well, not much, i answer. thesis writing is going slow, it's hard to get back into it, especially when the interest in the topic has gone from the original "low-but-high-enough-to-get-me-to-graduation" to "practically-non-existant-never-gonna-finish-this-thing-graduation-so-far-away". egh. nuff about that.
i gave a workshop with my supervisor at the company where i did my internship. i was convinced it would be a total disaster, given the amount of prep time involved (none) and the amount of fear i have for public speaking (too much) and the language it was in (dutch!) and the fact that i have never led a workshop before. but, it was a great success, my nerves calmed quickly, my dutch didn't suck, they understood me, and i even really enjoyed it. ah, and the bonus was that after the workshop, my supervisor raised my grade a full point! ha!
oh, one fun event, Morgan was here for a couple days. she's off to den haag with another friend, but will be back maybe saturday maybe sunday before going on her way to other interesting lands far away. she's our first official guest in our new house with new guest room and new guest bed (yes, a whole bed!). cept i forgot to buy sheets. so she slept in a sleeping bag. i figured she needed to start roughing it before getting to bahrain and all those other strangely named countries on her list of places to go. so suck it up Morgan!... nah, she was perfectly happy with the bag. and i can't speak for her, but i've enjoyed our wanderings through Gouda, Delft, Amsterdam, stuffing her with my favorite Dutch foods and forcing all my favorite Dutch and Belgian beers on her. poor girl. she's probably relieved to be gone a couple days, just to recover from my over-enthusiastic hosting. but at least she'll have some extra meat on her bones before heading off to deserts and who knows what.
and as a final bit of news to share, i think our cat has worms. she stepped out of her kitty litter box this morning only to start running around like the devil was after her and then stop in the kitchen where she dropped her butt to the floor and dragged it around till the turd that had been hanging off her behind had been successfully smeared all over the floor and detached from her asshole. yes, this is a picture i want you to start your morning with. cause i had to clean this up and i deem it necessary to share this with others and reduce somehow the misery that is taking care of cat shit.
cheers!

time for bigger house, less stuff.

there is nothing like moving to confront you with your own pack-ratting habits, useless collections, and the "oh, I'll definately use that thing some day" objects. we have way too much shit.

Lately

October is almost done and it feels like it just started. Time is strange, it flies and it's slow, all at the same time. Not a whole lot has happened since September. We are still waiting on the keys to our house (6 days!). We've been preping for the big move, have ordered a new kitchen, are meeting up with handyman's (handymen? that just doesn't sound right), packing boxes, choosing paint colours, looking at furniture... This is the part where time feels like it slows down.

Some sad news: our pet rat Lucy died. It all happened within a week. We noticed one weekend that she was walking funny, sort of limping. We thought it was from when we accidently closed the door on her...but then she started sleeping more and eating less, even falling asleep in the most random places, like next to the tv or on the floor under the table. Very un-rat-like. Very un-Lucy-like. Then she started falling from things. She always fell before, but not as often and not as hard. It was like she couldn't hold herself up properly any more. Then, one day I let her out to run around and by the end of the day her back legs stopped moving and the only way for her to move around was to pull herself with her front legs and roll around. She stopped eating and drinking and just slept. We expected her to die that night, but every morning she was still there, half alive. Finally, on Monday, after three days of waiting I took her to the vet to have her put down. I expected to just hand her over and leave, and they'd take care of her. But the vet was a kindly man, very sensative and knowing that some people who love their pets like to be there for the last few moments, assumed I would too. I stood there as he stuck a needle as long as her body into her leg to numb her, then he gave me the box and in a quiet funerary voice sent me to the garden greenhouse in the back so I could say goodbye. I was unprepared for this. I sat there for ten minutes with Lucy on my lap, tears dripping off my chin, watching her breathing slow down till it was hard to see without focusing on her little chest moving up and down. I kept telling myself, this is silly, she's just a rat. But I couldn't help myself. The vet came back after a while and said it was time. Embarassed, I followed him, expecting to be sent away. But instead he offered me a seat next to the examining table where I watched as he checked her reactions before putting a large needle full of an orange fluid straight into her heart. Then we waited. And she kept breathing. All I wanted was to leave the room but I stood there staring, unable to move away and trying so hard not to cry again in front of this sensative vet. If I started, I couldn't stop again. I wanted it to be over so I could leave. But she wouldn't die! Her little chest shuddered and heaved, then her breathing seemed to stop, then it shuddered again. The vet tapped her on her eye and she did not react. He said she was braindead and that her body was just fighting for the last bit of life in it. He asked if I wanted to go back to the garden with her to wait. No, I really didn't want to! I asked if it was ok to just leave her, he said that was fine, they'd take care of her. So I paid and left as quickly as I could, and tried not to think of my little rat the whole way home.

It's been a couple of weeks now. I am throwing away the cage and her stuff. I have an almost full back of rat food that I don't know what to do with... Feels like a waste to throw that out. Maybe I can feed it to the neighborhood pigeons.

We are babysitting a cat, a sort of test trial at the same time. We might keep her. The associate pastor got her from the previous pastor who got her from some lady at church; they all know she's old but not sure how old... Anyway, he got married and his new wife isn't too fond of cats, so they want to find a new home. But I talked to her yesterday and she seemed suddenly reluctant when I told her 'yes, we'll keep her'. Maybe she feels guilty. Anyway, if we can't keep the cat, I'm gonna work on Luuk to convince him that dogs are actually awesome and we should have one. If that doesn't work, mini-pigs are the new trend.

I had lunch with a friend today who I've seen once in the past year, and that was over three months ago. That happens sometimes... Time goes by quickly, before you know it, it's been half a year since you last called each other and then you know that that "quick call" to catch up won't be quick at all so you put it off until an evening when you do have the time to talk but then you never have time and it's been another three months... So we finally made plans and met up. I had to ask for her address again because I couldn't remember what number it was and wasn't sure I'd recognize it if I passed it. The usual re-connecting questions and answers covered the first hour as we prepared lunch together.
'Where you been these days? Used to being in Holland again?'
'How's life? Enjoying med school?'
'What's new? Really, a new house?!'
'Any news in the relationship area?'
'No. Any news in the baby area? Ha!'
Then a brief silence.
'Amanda, my dad died. Two months ago. Complications with the chemo. Leukemia. He was 61. Now my mom is alone. We went out for her birthday last month but it was not a happy occasion. He wasn't there. I love my mom, she's sweet. But my dad was my friend. And he's gone. I've lost a friend. I miss him. But it's strange, I feel like he isn't really gone yet, it isn't real. I went to a funeral last week for a friend who's cousin killed himself; I cried more at that funeral then at my own father's. Christmas will be hard.'
I stayed for another hour; I'll make sure I call before three months. Too much happens when you wait too long, and I wasn't there with her.

On the way home I rushed into the train to get a seat facing the direction of travel, bypassing the seat next to a young teen sitting across from her mother, chewing loudly on chips, laughing and talking as if she was the only one in the cabin or onstage and with something actually important and funny to say. Her mother asked her to move her bags and put her feet on the floor so others could sit next to her.
Her answer was a flat "Nee". I could hear in her voice the challenging look she surely gave her mother.
No one sat next to her.
"See," she said.
I took a seat across the aisle, one row ahead of her. The woman in the seat across from me look up, glanced at me and rolled her eyes, then went back to her book. A boy sitting one seat ahead of me watched the girl through the space between the seats. She was very pretty. But he looked displeased.
"Mama, do you know that I hate you?"
A muffled response, probably "What?"
"Do you know that I hate you?"
Silence.
Everyone in the cabin waited for a response, but nothing.
"I'm just teasing, mama. I don't really hate you. "

it's gonna be a long day...

One thing I miss about college is the mental stimulation. Or, well, actually, just the discussions that were supposed to stimulate.
I sit here all day recoding data for this experiment I am doing to get the grade to graduate (click "play", listen, click on box, type number, click "next", click "play", listen, click on box, type number, click "next"...for 360trials for 43 participants), with occasional breaks to snack or do groceries or finish our Singapore picture album (all done!). My eyes are sore already and it's not even 9am. And the thought of doing this for the rest of the day is making me tired. In the background of my mind I think about all sorts of other things, articles I read, a play we watched on Tuesday ("De Filantroop", based on the book, "The Philanthropist", by Theodore Dalrempyl or however you spell his name, can't remember at the moment), or that discussion last week about American medical care.
I actually miss Gen300 where we could argue for, what was it?, an hour and a half?, about every major issue of our times.
That and our large mugs of spiked coffee at 10 in the morning and Jeff and Mike muttering sarcastic responses to every dumb question thrown out there by our less enlighted fellow students, particularly of the Republican persuasion...

touchy subject for once

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8305217.stm

so, apparently the netherlands has the lowest rate of abortions in the world (whodathunkit?) and the US one of the highest. and, (not new news), laws restricting it don't really do much for numbers, just for safety. so, the anwer: make it easier for women not to get pregnant in the first place. agreed. and how do we do that? teach 'em the good ole fashioned rythm method; after all, you can really only get pregnant in a 24 hr window of fertily in a month... figure out when that window opens and close the legs and you are good to go!

i wonder; it might work.

"hi, i'm late."

so, after two years of attending, we finally officially joined our church yesterday. we almost missed the confirmation ceremony. the last few times it was at the end of the service but this time they decided to do it at the beginning. we walked in 10 min late as usual only to see all the newcomers standing at the front of the church introducing themselves. we rushed to the front and sidled up to the last dude in the line just in time to say our names. of course everyone thought it was hilarious, and from now on we will be the one couple that everyone remembers from that group as the one's that were late.

morning mini-rant

Seriously...

Two black men can dress up like white chicks and its hilarious, but a bunch of white guys in (with several different ethnic backgrounds, as we were carefully informed) paint themselves black and do a Jackson Five skit and America is insulted. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8296347.stm

I don't understand this hypersensativity...

El Bobberino, if you aren't into the whole brevity thing...

we bought a car (news, for you non-facebookers). it's a lovely 1995 Suzuki Swift with pink, purple, and mint green stripes on the side that end in a palm tree and "Florida". it makes all sorts of wonderful noises and the passenger door can only lock and unlock from inside. we love him already. and we named him Bob.

sexgod

The bible study group that luuk and I go to is starting a new topic. We decided to study a book by Rob Bell (the pastor of what apparently is a well known church that I happened to go to a couple times in Michigan and realy liked, Mars Hill). The book is "sexgod", and already with the preface I was sold. I was disappointed when I came to the end. I wanted to read more. He says so beautifully and simply what I have been feeling and never been able to get out in the right words when trying to. I can't wait to get into this book, and before even reading it, I am recommending it to everyone I know. Even if you don't like what he has to say, I know this book will be good for discussion. So read it. And let me know what you think.

oh, to be a wanderer...

ever hear yourself talking in a group and wish you could make yourself shut up but you can't so you just keep going while silently wishing to yourself that no one else notices how annoying you are? all those things that i can't stand in other people seem to just flow out of me with no control. i realized that i start to do this when i become comfortable in a group. this is, of course, a sign of a good thing. i have found a little niche where i fit, or feel that i fit, where i can be at home enough to let loose and relax. but there is a saftey in being unknown; it's dangerous to get too comfortable. i can just watch all those annoying, loud, obnoxious, "look-at-me-look-at-me" parts that i normally keep tightly packed away in a group of strangers and lesser-knowns bubbling to the surface and coming out when i let my guard down or have a glass of white wine. i find myself half wishing to move again before it's too late.
of course, i probably am more aware of those parts of myself than anyone else (i hope). and i seem more annoying and obnoxious to myself than anyone else (i hope). at least, no one has complained yet to me.
on a side note, this is the amazing thing about marriage... someone who has known me long and well enough to see these parts of me that i most hate has chosen to spend his life with me. though, i think secretly he's more amused than annoyed when i find myself loosening the belt and letting my hidden less-than-attractive underbelly blubber out into the open.
so anyway...
i don't really have a point. well, maybe i do. i want to know if you have this too. i'd feel so much better about myself if i knew that everyone else dislikes themselves sometimes.
hah!, ain't that just sweet?

for the sake of writing

i should really only post when i have something to say...but i get sick of seeing the same old last blog at the top of the page and decided it's time for a new one.

last night i painted. originally the painting was going to be a gift for someone but i liked it so much, i might keep it. now i just have to make a new one for that gift... or wait till i know if i can hang this one up. well, actually is a series of three. so i need alot of wall space. which we will have in our new house, cause it's bigger! yay!

speaking of new house, it is taking forever to get to november 2. why is time so slow? and luuk's three weeks away is crawling by as well. only three and a half more days!, but it feels like he's been gone for ages... i suppose it's good thing. but ugh, man, it's only september! we still have october to crawl through! and i have so little to do...just finishing that workshop, which i hope to wash my hands of on sept 30, and testing participants for that endless experiment. i should get extra credit for all the hours i am putting into someone else's pet project. oh, did i mention that that workshop will have to be presented in Dutch? i have never given a presentation in Dutch. this kinda freaks the shit out of me... but i'll live. i always do.

anyway... lunch today with a medical student friend from texas doing research here for a year and possibly a visit to the anatomy museum, her suggestion of course. go figure. i suggested doing something touristy. she suggested looking at body parts. alright!

i'm so 'ronery!

man, i was not made to be alone. luuk's been gone since sunday on another of his training things for three weeks (the last one!), and i am home with only lucy to keep me company, and well, she's not exactly the most companionable... entertaining, at least, climbing up empty wine bottles and knocking them over to drink whatever spills out, climbing up my pant leg when i'm cooking cause she knows there's something yummy going on above the edge of the counter and then getting stuck at about the knees and then just sitting there clinging for dear life til i help her down, ripping the corners of our carpet (which normally would piss me off but we are moving so now i don't care), trying to jump up to the third shelf where she has never been and is absolutely convinced it must be interesting cause she does this all the time but then only manages to slam into the edge with her face and fall to the ground (she really does this)...
anyway...

so, back to me. i'm bored out of my mind. especially at night when luuk is usually around and we watch 'family guy' or play 'settlers' against each other. or do other things...

not so fun on your own.

the two worst things to do on your own: laughing and farting.

watching a funny movie or tv show is just no good on your own. something hilarious happens and i start pointing and waiting for a reaction, then realize no one's there so i just laugh on my own but my laugh sounds so weird unaccompanied so then i just smile and well, that's just not as satisfying as a good wholehearted laugh. and later when i make an offhanded joke or reference to something funny that happened in that tv show, no one knows what i'm talking about so i end up explaining it and then just feel like a total loser for spending so much time watching tv on my own.
and farting...ugh. especially loud ones. when luuk is there we just laugh about it or run away together, but when alone i can't laugh cause it sounds weird unaccompanied, and running away seems silly, so i just sit there in my smell, looking around for the candid camera, hoping the neighbors can't hear through the walls, then kinda hoping they could and wishing they'd offer a loud bellow in response.

so this is why God made two of us. its not good for a man or woman to be alone. after a while, you start going a little nuts.

it hasn't even been a week. lets talk again in two, see how i'm doing...

old storks and stuff.

the stork is kinda a national symbol in this country, though you rarely see them in the wild. but i pass a field every day on my way to work where i see two storks standing in the grass probably waiting for some frogs to leap by. there used to be three but i like to think that in true 'vicky, cristina, barcelona' style the one flew away to find herself leaving the other two to fight and hate each other and throw frogs at each other in the middle of the field.

on another note, every morning this wonderfully strange and interesting lady gets on the bus at delft central and gets off at the same stop in the middle of a tiny town with 20some buildings probably dating back to the 1800's. her hair is red, uncontrolably frizzy, and greying. her face is laced with wrinkles and the skin on her hands is spotting with age and starting to develop that odd transparency that for some reason old people get. she isn't old quite yet, but slowly growing into it. her face is in a permanent half smile, as if she knows a secret about the world and simply cannot help but be amused. and when she gets off the bus she always leaves with a loud cheerful "goedemorgen" to the driver. i think she would be an interesting person to meet.

i am reading hemmingway, "a farewell to arms". i like how his sentences run on for half a page without punctuation.

some friends of ours (well, luuk's really, but i like them too) might take over our apartment when we move out. they want to keep all the kitchen appliances that we don't want, including the shelves and bar table that we put in with Dad, and flooring. if they get the apartment, it means we don't have to fill in the hundreds of holes hiding behind the wood boards we screwed to the wall or pay for dumping our old carpets. nice. bring on the two month rent deposit return! :)