loving the cat

Kitty killed a bird yesterday. She ate it's guts and then puked them up all over the floor. This is the third bird in the past two months. The last one I found lying headless at the door. No guts lying all over the place at least. Never found the head. I'm assuming it re-appeared in the litter box.

She has this spot on our coconut-fiber rug that she likes to claw. The rug is 2x3 meters in size. But she claws only the one spot. Now there's a big fuzzy spot, right by the door, the first thing you see.

I made a little hut for her last month. She likes small dark corners. Whenever there is a box in the room, she jumps in it. If I open the closet, she hides in it and I usually only find her hours later when I realize I haven't seen her for a while and then I hear her meowing but can't figure out where it's coming from. When I'm on the couch, she crawls on my lap and tries to get under the blanket. I thought the little hut would be her new favorite spot. It was. For a day. Now she's back to perching on the end of the couch or sprawling out on the one white cushioned chair which as now turned a brownish yellow from whatever dirty stuff she leaves behind.

Every morning I almost fall to my death when I walk down the stairs and kitty appears out of nowhere right under my next step. She likes to be close to us. Real close. She especially loves to run little circles around our feet. It's particularly fun when we are walking. I think she gets a sadistic pleasure out of our stumblings. Even the times we step on her tail, kick her in the head or send her sprawling across the room before falling on our own faces is not enough to gain some space.

---

We are looking for a kitten. Why? To keep kitty company while we are both gone all day. Now I will have two piles of puke to clean up on a regular basis. Two ugly spots on the rug. Two dirty spots on the furniture. Two cats constantly running under my feet. Yes, this is a completely rational decision and I won't regret it one bit.

november

we woke up to fog this morning. which means no wind. which means an easy bike-ride to work. only to find out that i'd been scheduled on someone elses hours...so i got sent home, so no work today. or well, no official paid work. will be doing house-wifey work instead. maybe i'll finish up that picture album from our Alberta vacation this summer. printed waaaay too many pictures and i hate to throw any away, which makes for some rough cut-and-pasting.
maybe i'll find some awesome job opening in the paper today. or online. or in my weekly email from city unemployment offices. or maybe i'll hear back from that one awesome interview i had weeks ago. or maybe this will be the beginning of my latest mental breakdown... it is november, which means winter is coming, which means my tendency to seasonal meloncholy and depression is about to be encouraged by 4:30pm-8:30am darkness and incessant misty rain for the next four months. i do, however, have one major high-light to look forward to. christmas tree setup! and my four 100+ classic and cheesy christmas hits cds! i have to wait at least three more weeks, but then the shiny balls and stars and ribbons are coming out of the box, baby!

gipsies are people too.

I brought some clothes to the dry cleaners at our grocery store today and while I was there, picked up some fresh orange juice. Walking out, I pass the group of boys who wait at the door to ask anyone leaving with a grocery bag if they got any "foesjes", the latest gadget the store gives away for every 20euros you spend on groceries. No, I don't have any, sorry. They look away, disappointent, to badger the next buyer. As leave, I notice that the boys are now hallo-ing and waving at someone in the doorway. One boy walks up, turns around, lifts his coat and shakes his butt before laughing loudly and running back. Then he waves angrily, probably responding to a reaction, before yelling "I'll tell them in the store!". He comes back, "I told them! Ha!", and then they all start grunting and hallo-ing. I notice the gypsy woman sitting in the doorway. She sells the Streetnews, a newspaper run by and for homeless people. Three boys, who look like immigrants themselves, continue to yell at her; a blonde boy giggles and laugs at them. I walk up to them and ask "Are you being nice to the lady?". The blond boy looks guilty and blushes. One boy starts defending himself, "but she did it first! She swore at me!". "I'm sure you did nothing to deserve that," I say. "You should be nice to her. She's a person too."

I don't know why I said that. She's a person too. As if I needed to remind them that she is human. She probably did swear at them, not that they didn't deserve it, I'm sure they were annoying, but that's beside the point. Of all things I could have said, maybe something about respecting elders or something, "she's a person too" pops out. Well meant, I suppose. But degrading. Have I so little respect for her, this gipsy woman?

The lady from Gouda.

Mrs. de Vries wears two gold bands on her left-hand ring-finger. One is a thin and small and has formed a groove of its own just behind her nuckle. The other is thicker and larger. It sits loosely on her finger, held in place only by the smaller ring. Her hand tinkles and clicks while she gestures when she talks. Around her eyes are countless lines, fine and long, that scrunch up into thick wrinkles when she smiles. Her whole face wrinkles up when she smiles. The corners of her mouth turn up slightly, she never seems to frown. Her cheeks are covered in soft, transparent skin, the pattern of veins underneath gives it a blue-ish tint. Just like her hands. Sprinkled with brown spots. Her hair has been white for years, except two dark streaks above each ear. She wears it in a twist, pinned to the back of her head, thinning with the years but elegant and beautiful as when it was full and thick and dark.
'We were married 64 years', she tells me. 'He was a good man. We worked hard together. We had a good life. He never complained.'
The golden rings clink as she waves her hand slightly. The lines connect into thick, long wrinkles as she smiles to herself.
'He was a good man.'

true story.

i was in the wine/chips/nuts/snacks section of the store today and overheard the conversation of three boys aged around 10. it went something like this:

boy 1: "yeah, this one time i swallowed something and it go stuck and my dad had to squeeze me to get it out. i coulda died."

boy 2: "oh man, no, that's nothing! this one time i ate something i was allergic to but know one new i was allergic and i couldn't breath so they took me to the hospital and they were sure i was gonna die but then this doctor showed up and he figured out what was wrong with me and he gave me a shot and then i could breath again. if it weren't for him, i'd be dead."

boy 3: "well, i almost drowned in my sleep."

boy 2: "what? how'd you do that?"

boy 3: "i peed in my sleep and almost drowned in it."

boy 1: "you can't do that. you'd have to pee alot to drown in it!"

boy 2: "yeah! you can't drown in our pee. it's not enough to drown you."

boy 3: "well, i peed on my face and it got in my mouth and i almost drowned! haha!"

boys 2 and 1 look slightly skeptical. but slightly impressed.

i smile and walk away.

a post

it's drizzly out. windy and drizzly. i'm supposed to head out to utrecht to wander the streets and shop and catch up with Liesbeth. first stop will be a store where i can buy an umbrella. a cheap one, cause all of our other 5+ umbrellas broke in the past two weeks. umbrellas were not made for rain and wind. you'd think that given the regular weather circumstances here, some brilliant dutch guy would have invented a wind-worthy umbrella by now. but no. they still make them the same old way as always. it's a conspiracy, i tell ya, a way to keep making money off of us suckers who think we can stay dry under an umbrella when it's windy.

so first stop: buy an umbrella. or two, just in case.

monsters in the dark

last night there was a spider in my bed. he was one of those big ones with long fat meaty legs with a yellow semi-transparent tinge. at least the size of my hand. he was crawling slowly and intentionally toward me. i knew he would jump on me, he was ready to attack. his front two legs reached out, probing ahead, his back legs moved erratically in that strange unnatural way that spiders move. i yelled and sat up, moving away from the attacking spider, to the other side of the bed. i waved my arms in front of me, then pounded at the bed hoping to kill him or brush him away before he got to me. then i opened my eyes. there was nothing there. except the very sleepy and confused husband i was now sitting on, rubbing my back and telling me "it's ok, there's nothing there".

thankyou auntie teena

my head feels about ready to explode.

my eyes are sensative to the light. my nose feels like it shrunk to the point where i can barely breath through it and yet on the outside some how its big red and swollen from blowing it so much. my upper lip has no oils left in it and is starting to hurt before i even touch it. my voice sounds like a boy just pushing through puberty and my ribs and stomach feel like i've been doing situps all day when in reality i haven't done any belly-fat-reducing work whatsoever (and won't be reaping the benefits thereof, either) but have instead been sneezing and coughing my way through the day like like it's the hiccups.

i hate colds.

to Canada and back

after 14some hrs of travel and 8hrs time difference, we got back last night from a two week trip to Alberta. both of us were exhausted but I think I was more so than Luuk. partly cause he sleeps better on airplanes (I tend to doze and then wake up every time I feel my jaw muscles relax, which is immediately five minutes after finally falling asleep), and partly because of the emotional rollercoaster I feel I've been on the last few days. the family reunion was the most fun I've had in a while. everyone, aunts uncles cousins grandpa, was there, with the exception of two.
a historic event, mind you, as the last time that happened was...ten years ago at least. and memorable for so many good reasons. I was reminded of what a wonderful family we have. reconnecting was so effortless; not a moment of awkwardness, no tension, not even boredom. simply good. if only we could all move to the same place and extend those two weeks into years of happy familial co-existance. leaving was harder this time than it has ever been before.
and then there were other things, really shitty things that have happened to loved ones. things I won't share cause they aren't mine, but things that I am having a hard time processing because some of these things you could never see coming and some only happen in bad drama's. my heart breaks for them. I wish so badly I could be there to...do who knows what, but be there and not here on the other side of the world.
but some shit has a way of bringing out the good in some people. and these I admire. I can only hope to grow into someone like that, like my Grandpa for instance who takes the shit and forgives the person who threw it at him and then thanks God because it brought him closer to Him.

and now life goes back to normal. sort of.

I'm so tired now. Jet-legged. Flu-ish. And exhausted from other people's pain. I guess that's family though.

she's so sick...

she shoulda gone to a clinic during her first trimester, spread her legs and let a professional handle it. then it woulda been ok. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-10897191

ouderen dagverzorging

today i worked the activity center at the old folks home (which when translated literally actually is "old people daycare"), on my own for the first time. went well.

i think i remembered all the things i was supposed to do throughout the day.

was told several times i was made for the job. (it includes: serving coffee, twice; setting the table and serving lunch; serving drinks at 'borrel' time; playing endless games of rummikub; pasting cut-outs onto cards and making them look pretty so the old ladies can boast about their cardmaking abilities to the happy recipients; helping old ladies in an out of their chairs and occasionally helping them in the bathroom; pushing wheelchairs to and from the hairdresser; smiling alot and listening to the same stories for the third, fourth, fiftieth time...).

the taxi was late picking up some of the ladies. lots of grumbling.

just about lost my cool when i couldn't figure out which of the 7 listed taxi services i was supposed to call to find out where the hell they were with 11 old ladies offering kind suggestions in the background...figured it out, called, complained in a chipper voice, then heard the ladies hollering that he was there before i could finish saying "well, it can happen to anyone...".

and finally headed home, exhausted.

apparently coffee, cookies and rummikub suck the energy right out of you.

bought some haring and onions on the way home to revive me. yumm!

pesky little things, like mosquitos...

i realized yesterday that i am carrying a few grudges. and of course the other person has likely no idea.

like that guy who i knew at dordt my freshman year... he was a sophomore. we knew each other from a work group we led together in mexico a year before that. he broke up with his girlfriend at the time cause he thought we had a shot. but a year is a long time i guess. he looked me up when i get to dordt. we hung out a few times. he even kissed me on the nose once. then he asked me out on my birthday, but i was going away for a weekend conference, so the date was set for after i got back. the day i got back i called him for a quick ride to walmart, and on the way back he told me he wasn't ready for a relationship blahblahblah, and a week later had a new girlfriend and he never talked to me again unless i spoke to him first and then it was agonizingly awkward....

and this girl, i'll say no names, who i'm convinced never really liked me cause of, well, can't say cause then you might know who i am talking about...but who i once heard had said something about me being a dumb blonde.

then there's this person who i have tried so hard to be nice to cause, well, it's a really annoying person who is very difficult to like, but i have been going out of my way to be kind and pleasant and helpful and to invite them along to things cause we're called to love but not necessarily like our neighbor, right? anyway, recently this person, for whom subtlety is not a known concept mind you, mentioned appreciation for a couple at church who have been so kind and treated the person so well and "not in a charity kind of way but actually meant it, not like other people around here"....

(deep breath)

just thinking about them annoys me again.

well, here's my attempt to forgive 'em.
bugger.

julio?

the world cup is over and the fever has broken. the orange fans have gone home and the dutch team is off consoling themselves with the 24million euros won for second place. can't say i feel too sorry for them any more. though, it's never really about the money. not for a cup. i assume, anyway.

i'm making a quilt. who knew i had the patience? and actually, i really enjoy it. so i am afraid that from now on, friends getting married or having babies or with a landmark birthday can expected a quilt or something of the sort from me... at least for as long as this phase lasts. for a while it was paintings. i'm sure something new will show up for it's share of obsession.

still no job. though, a decent prospect as a part-time personal assistant/care-giver/whatever you cal it in English to a 14yr old boy with epilepsie and some sort of brain damage. i'm pretty sure i can do that. and with that job, i could keep up my old lady projects and still do my Dutch course and a coaching/counseling program on the side. i hope i get it. it'd be the perfect job for the next year, actually.

we've been in this house for over six months now. and i'm getting the urge to rearrange furniture and repaint some walls. if i can hold out for a full year, then possibly Luuk might be more willing and able to adjust to the changes. in this one area, we are not a good match. he likes things to stay the same, to always be able to know where to find things (though he never does, even if it hasn't changed location in months), to know what to expect; and i like to rearrange and redecorate, i get the moving-itch within a year (only held at bay by an occasional trip to some exotic country far away), and start to feel uncomfortable if things have been the same for more than six months. maybe, if i stretch my changes out a bit, say paint one wall this month, move a book shelf next month, re-arrange the kitchen cupboards the month after that, and so on, it might be enough to keep my urges under control and not drive Luuk too crazy all at once...

you'll ne-e-e-v-er walk a-a-a-lone!

well. it's over. for the first time in 32 years, Holland was in the World Cup finals. For the 3rd time, a world record mind you, Holland lost in the finals. and for one night, several million people shared the same disappointment at the same moment. tears were shed, a few curse words passed through the air (mainly aimed at a particular referee; what was his beef with the Dutch team anyway? that has got to be a record number of yellow cards given to one team in a single game...), the last drops of beer were swallowed or thrown on the floor, and the masses moved silently toward the train stations and finally to home where a restless sleep welcomed them. a small percentage stayed out to party their sorrows away, waking up the next morning on the floors in corners of the train stations, greeted by reporters ready to ask them to relive their experience and share their responses. I'm sure they were happy to wake up to that....
Oh, Oranje! they were so close. so close! any other goal might have felt more deserved, had it not been the result of an off-side play (or was it undeserved goal-kick?). but now Holland is trying to process a loss that feels unjustified. it's so unsatisfying. this is no closure to the hard fought road to the finals.
four years feels like a long time right now.

Oranje boven, oranje boven!

dane, the party was a wonderful beer-soaked, victory-high, oranje-crazed, happy event. no one expected it. the tension, the fear, the hope, it was so thick you could hardly breath. and then the goal! relief at having a chance, then a second goal! literally no words to describe the vibe in that bar. even with the 35*C indoors we all somehow had the energy to jump around and yell for the next 4 hours. the energy carried every single person along, finally dumping us exhausted from the excitment at our doors at 1, 2, 3a.m. the next morning. beating Brazil was almost (almost!) as satisfying as winning the cup. almost. but now there's hope. bring the Germans!

como te va?

i'm doing well.
not exactly where i hope to be these days.
i thought i'd be working hard, building my way up in some brilliant career in psychology, slowly becoming famous and well respected for my great insight and innovative work...
instead, i just barely graduated, haven't even had a job interview, still don't know where i am going or what i'll be doing, am grasping at every possibility that might lead to work, and am trying to convince myself that it's ok to take it slow and that i should find meaning in the little things i do do, like rummikub with old ladies and keeping the house in order so my hard working husband who IS building up in his career doesn't have to help clean on saturdays and can actually have a day of rest.
i was feeling sorry for myself one morning about it all, then i went to the psych clinic where i accompany some of the patients on walks around the neighborhood, and this 83 yr old told me without a trace of emotion, her entire life story (which was not particularl easy or pleasant) up to the last week in whcih she had attempted suicide.
ah, my little problems and insecurities, though certainly real and worth addressing, are at least not even close to bad enough to lose all meaning in life and wish it to end. i can live with this. and really, i've got it good. i was secretly enjoying the life of a housewife (just too ashamed to admit it cause, well, every modern girl should take full advantage of her possibilities and staying at home is simply a waste of all those years that the feminists fought for our freedom...) but now i'm just gonna accept that i enjoy some parts of this, not feel so guilty for not putting my brand-spankin-new diploma to good use, and feel better about myself.
it does help to not even look at job ads: "psychologist wanted; min 5 yrs experience; preferably fantastic stats skills and extensive knowledge of SPSS and related systems; good management skills; good analytic skills; strong leadership skills; great at conflict resolution; conscienscious, responsible, flexible, driven, client-oriented; will only be considered if a) in emergency situations can slip in and out of a phone both in seconds, coming out with a blue suit with a bright S on the front and fly away to save the world, and/or b) have a thick beard, clear blue eyes, white flowing robes, and a perceptable halo floating over head."

soccer momentarily removes all worries. HUP HOLLAND!

canta, no llores!

well, mexico's out, after a terrible would-have-been-illegal-if-FIFA-would-get-off-their-fucking-high-horse-and-introduce-video-replay goal which created confusion and chaos amongst the Mexican team and led to the most embarassing blunder in soccer history reducing hopes of making it further down to a fading glimmer. which was subsequently stomped out with the only goal that Argentina actually deserved. even the one fantastic goal by the Mexican team could not create enough hope to bring them through; it was just enough to save face and allow the team to go out with their shoulders straight.

now, with Mexico out, my hopes rest solely on the powers of Oranje.

so come on Holland!

hup! hup!

tomorrow, 16:00 hrs!

NL vs....shit. Brazil.

well, it's been a good run. at least you didn't embarrass yourself on international television with the whole world (that gives a shit about soccer) watching.

in further news, I have officially graduated and am now the proud holder of a masters degree in Applied Cognitive Psychology. (well, actually, I had to send it back and ask for a new one with my name spelled Amanda instead of Amande on it. but in a week, I'll have it for reals). today I put that hard earned degree to good use by doing three loads of laundry, mopping, cleaning the toilets and shower, playing Rummikub with an 88 yr old lady, and spending an unhealthy amount of time on gmail, Facebook, BBC, and the Daily Show website. the job search...not going so well. I was, however, kindly told that I would be recommended by one of my professors who works in the safety world and who was impressed by my choice of courses and particularly interested in my masters thesis, which, as luck would have it, happened to be in the same field in which he started his career way back when. how nice. he'll keep his eye out for interesting jobs for me. (he also previously promised to arrange an internship for me in Singapore but that never happened...so we'll see). he also informed me that he liked some of my powerpoints so much that he uses them in some of his classes. I wonder if I should ask for royalties? meh, I'll just bask in the bliss of knowing that something I did is actually useful in the real world.

well, that third load of laundry is ready to be hung up and supper won't start itself.
cheers, y'all.

hold high the roofbeams!

i watched yesterday's game like i watch a horror movie, hiding behind my knees, fists clenched, shrieking at every almost-shot (to the total confusion of our cat), commenting on every move made (to the utter annoyance Luuk), and hoping desperately that the right guys would win.

oh the relief when they did!

down the to last second i watched in this manner, convinced that somehow the other team would manage to make two goals in the last few minutes, seconds of the game. but Mexico held on and played beautifully.

i've never been so proud.

now let's see if they can keep it up!

fever.

i fell asleep on the balcony while trying to do my home-study Dutch course laying on a towel and a pillow in the sun. yes, i am so motivated.

another barbeque tonight, this time at someone elses house. i feel south african. we should call it a braai.

yesterday, the first game played by the Dutch team, saw 40% of employees calling in sick or taking the day off. that's several million people. and they all dressed in orange. and ran around their cities singing songs and waving hats and drinking beer at 1:30 in the afternoon. i didn't see that first goal in the first minutes of the second half cause i was still on the balcony watering flowers, but i didn't miss it - i knew immediately when the entire town of Gouda burst into the loud yelp of surprise followed by "gooooooal!!!!".

next NL game, this Saturday, with the Zoetermeer boys and their girlfriends and wives, plus barbeque. it's gonna be super mooi!

but first Mexico vs France. i'm already getting nervous....

for those keeping track.

hmm, it's been a while. let's see... what's happened in the last...however many months it's been.

- there was madrid for four, no, five days. great city. lovely old buildings and romantic alleys. 8eur 3-course day menus at every restaurant in town. cheap but good wine, mmmm. rows and rows of tastey olive oil at every supermarket for under 10eur a bottle! meat. and more meat. and chorizo. and sausage. bacon. grilled steak. ham. over-cooked-veggies-soaked-in-bacon-fat. didn't have real vegetables the whole weekend. fantastic museums. trees. shopping paradise for those with money...not so much us then... oh, an accidental discovery of the traveling midieval themed market with costumes, music, herb stands, and meat. finally, the return home with bags stuffed full of meat, cheese, wine, and olive oil. oh, and a whole dried pork leg (mmmmm, homer-simpson-gurgle). then, postponed return home due to volcanic ash, followed by lines, many many hours standing in lines...and 250eur pp later, another attempt at returning home a day later. all in all: a good little trip.

- weekend away with bible-study group. good times. involved lots of "settlers" and this new game "agricola". piling on the addictions here...

- several barbeque parties at our place.

- flowers and herbs growing like crazy. i'm especially proud of my cilantro plant. he's huge. i should name him...

- hung out with morgan for a brief 5 hrs during stop in Amsterdam on her way home from the other side of the world. that was good. real good.

- several weddings, Liesbeth's included.

hmm, other than that, not a whole lot going on. we help out with the youth group (turns out Luuk is fantastic with unruly way-too-energetic preteen boys who think girls aren't cool enough to listen to). i still hang out with my old ladies. still looking for a job. still have a bit too much free time on my hands, though i'm filling it with two dutch courses (one for myself and one for the dutch government, immigration rules) and in september i'm gonna do a coaching course. and today i spent several hours comparing yoga and pilate courses and stumbled across some photography, painting, and massage courses that look interesting.

oh, right, and on june 30, i get my masters diploma. finally.

life goes on. :)