Idiots Rule (Thank you Perry Farrell)

Hee hee hee... I have been laughing at this posting on Facebook for a good 10 minutes... :) An ode to my girl who claims that "I see dumb people" (love you Tor!):

"Please put this on your status if you know someone who is an idiot. Idiots affect the lives of many. There is still no known cure for stupidity, but we can raise awareness."

Ha! Amen sistuh!

Tomorrow we sign all the new house paperwork and get our keys!!!! We're so excited!!!

Piiiiiiiiitttttyyyyy

My husband is SO GOOD with photography. Incredible. This is something he took in our house, yanno, on a Friday afternoon. :)

Cheer Leader Extraordinnaire

This week in my world of freaks, philosophers, and academia:

- “I’m getting this tattoo to symbolize my love for WW2 and pinup girls.”
- “The choices we make, not the chances we take, determine our destiny.”
- “A ship is safe in the harbor but is not built for that.”
- Someone’s title on Linkedin: IT geek, pater familias, obstinate dreamer & house builder.
- *** This week's winner: While researching universities where (insert name) company should recruit talented engineers: “Engineering, Design & Society was originally designed for talented girls with a bachelor's degree in Civil Engineering or Mechanical Engineering... But in fact may be suitable for everyone (even guys) that are not yet sure if such a technical study something for him or her.”

I did some cheer leading for J this past Sunday. I was feeling silly and rowdy. Yanno, like a cheerleader. Only, I hadn’t had any coffee yet, so my moves were, well, a bit rusty. Okay, honestly, I haven't done any cheer leading since I was 17. I'm late thirties. You do the math. He watched the entire time with a half smile on his face. When I was done, he was speechless. I said, “What do you think?” He said, “You haven’t done that in a while, have you?”

I totally scored on Sinterklaas: J made me a gigantic Nike shoe out of construction paper with chocolate and a really beautiful umbrella inside (my 2-year old broken umbrella is now laid to rest). I gave him an accupunctured Ernie (with pepernoten cookies pinned into his back symbolizing his massage). We had a really good Sinterklaas. I got absolutely no coal whatsoever. Whew.

Uncle Kiki

The thing about the month of December is that you cannot run fast enough from the fat booty trying to attach itself to you. Yanno, the extra one you really didn’t ask for? Yeah, that one. It can sneak up on you in so many ways that somehow, though it happens every December, you selectively displace from your memory how it happened just last December. And it’s SUCH a surprise – this struggle, once more. Namely, this happens via your greedy pie hole that insists on stuffing itself (nice passive voice makes me feel better about it all – a bit helpless, you know?) full of holiday candies and cookies that (a) you have baked at home for yourself or family and friends, (b) your boss has sent to you as a holiday gift (note: when things are sent from your homeland, you are especially energetic about eating all of the things sent in one sitting to fully enjoy good home cookin’), (c) friends and family sent beautifully wrapped tins and bins of goodies that either (i) they want you to try as local foods you’ve never tried before (except that one time at the Christmas market in Belgium last year but don’t hurt their feelings), or (ii) family and friends who sent care packages (I like to call them “spare tire” packages) with treats, or finally (d) you bought yourself because you thought you might miss out – as if no one was going to give/send/bake you something this whole month.

The fact that so many people are out there who simply do not open and eat these heartfelt gifts is absolutely appalling. People, why do you guilt yourself out of enjoying this holiday cheer? For one moment, ignore the extra booty. I especially dislike the health nut freaks who claim they have strong enough will to get through the holiday season eating carrot sticks at parties… I promise to never have carrot sticks at my parties in December – the sacrilege! Do you see where my justification process begins already? I’m sick, SICK! It could be the two chocolate-covered macadamias I just ate for breakfast at work – the big boss in California sent a box. There’s no reason to be rude.

Sigh. January will be here before we know it. And that makes me pretty happy, though the Buddhist in me (somewhere amongst the chocolate-covered macadamias, truffles, and lolly pops) knows I need to slow down, enjoy the holiday season upon us, live in the moment (I really did enjoy those chocolate-covered macadamias – does that count?), and embrace what “is”. January brings such exciting new things in our lives: we get the keys to our new house 15 Jan, then work on it to perty her up for two weeks, then move in end of Jan. Pretty exciting stuff. I cannot believe I am getting a new kitchen – a brand new kitchen! I am living in my moment of bliss over the kitchen (yanno, that materialistic, tangible thing… Buddha is shaking his head). Remind me that I said I was excited about all the work to come, will you?

My sweet little nephew, de Kobus, is talking up a storm. He calls chocolate “colala” – which I have to agree, is a more appropriate name for chocolate – it is a French, sensual experience, to be sure (ohlala!)… I am “Tante Kiki!!” always with complete enthusiasm hence the exclamation point, and J is “Om Kiki” – the husband of Aunt Kiki. That always makes me giggle. Apparently, I have left quite the impression on little Kobus that even my husband is Uncle Kiki. Truly, I think Kiki is just fun to say for kids. But J’s name is fun to say too… our little friend, Luuk, Michiel and Vivanda’s son, calls J “Ap”, which means “Monkey”. Poor guy can’t get a break when it comes to kids saying his name. But does he have a way with kids! Oh, melts my heart to see him patiently explaining how something works. He is going to be such a good daddy someday (no, that is not insinuating anything!). Just marveling at my husband’s talent to make all babies love him. My own little Pied Piper. :)

Sint

Yesterday someone put wrapped gift boxes over the video cameras shooting traffic around Holland as a Sinterklaas present to the masses who had to drive maybe a little bit faster than normally to granny's for the holiday. Only the Dutch police would publicly agree that it was funny and dismiss looking into it. I love this country.

I have been so exhausted lately that when I fall asleep, it's within a minute of laying my head on the pillow. It also gives me really weird dreams. A couple weeks ago, I woke up a few minutes after falling deep asleep and it went something like this:

"(mumble mumble mumble) Eric! No, not Eric, Marc!...... He lived down the street when I was young.... Eric, not Marc! I'm sorry Hon, I'm sleeping in and out of my dream....(J: "That's a great story Sweetie.") Hehehehe...... Eric Reece is his name, not Marc! Not Marc!!!!!!!!........."

Then last night I was trashed-exhausted after partying with Mrs. Q and G. for Sinterklaas. They made us a "surprise" - a funny gift wrap over a real gift in Holland on Sinterklaas - a gigantic cardboard box house with window cutouts and a fake mouse hanging out the window. There were pictures of us all over the inside of the house from our wedding. All the disposable cameras we set out and the kiddos ran around taking pictures with - all those photos. We had honestly dismissed the cameras after seeing the kids running around taking pictures of flowers in the garden. But Mrs. Q wanted to develop them. They were hilarious! Jaap with his mouth wide open, showing all his teeth, adults smiling at the camera - clearly looking at kiddos taking the picture, very artistic, very skewed pictures of the wedding party. They were great. Really fun to see the kids' perspective of the wedding. Such a treat! Never dismiss a kiddo and his/her artistic ability.

Turkey Day in Amsterdam

This weekend we celebrated American Thanksgiving in Amsterdam in style: Cajun blue cheese and mushroom hamburgers at the Hard Rock Café. Deeeeeeeelish. There ain’t nothin’ like an American hamburger. No way. Oh, and of course, a minty chocolate martini for me and a mojito for J. Who needs turkey and mashed potatoes when I FINALLY got my American hamburger after one and a half years in Holland?!?!? It didn’t even matter to us that we were thirsty as if walking in the desert for a week for the rest of the day, many thanks to the salty American burger and steak fries (oh, how I love you steak fries with spices). No, no. That didn’t worry us one bit. But we did drink gallons of water at the kitchen store that afternoon, where we spent 5 hours planning our kitchen in the new house. That was awesome. We had so much fun envisioning how pretty it will be., It’s modern with a tiny taste of country. Mostly modern though. It’s so pretty!!!!!

And I didn't have to eat turkey this Thanksgiving, which always makes me happy. Not a turkey fan. Amen to expat Thanksgiving!

I have a problem: I like to stuff food. Meaning, if I can put meat, cheese, mushrooms, Boursin, or pine nuts inside peppers, eggplants, chicken, or anything that looks remotely like a shell and is edible, I want to bake it – after I stuff it, of course. Maybe it’s a winter thing. Maybe I need things to be full or hearty. I don’t know what it is. I like it. So if you’re coming to our house for dinner sometime soon, you’re getting something stuffed and baked. Good? Good. But no turkey. Let's be clear.

J and I were laughing hysterically this weekend. It felt so good to laugh hard. I won’t even bore you with what we thought was get-outta-here-funny. But it was. Yanno when you laugh so hard you have tears rolling down your cheeks? Yep, that’s the one. I love my husband.

I saw a blind guy riding his bicycle the other day. WTF? I am all for people pushing their limits and living outside the lines... but uh... it was a busy street and there were kids and cars all around. Made us all a little confused. We just got the hell out of the way. Maybe that's what he thought we would all do. Huh. For the rest of my walk, I shook my head and laughed. Love the audacity. Go on with yo' bad self, Man.

Christmas is coming so fast this year. Where has this year gone? I’m serious. When I was younger, I always rolled my eyes when an adult would say, “This year has gone so fast – where has the time gone?!!” Whatever. In those days, school couldn’t end fast enough. But I’m getting what they were asking now. Where in the world HAS the time gone this year?!?! It just blew past me, this year. I feel like just yesterday, J and I were beginning to look at wedding venues and talking to the florist… we’ve been married now a little over 3 months and I just can’t believe all that has happened! Life has been very good to us this year. And now we are topping it off with amazing jobs (I just got my dream job!!!), a new house, health, happiness, and love. I don't think we can ask for anything more. Well, maybe world peace. Hey, why not ask?

Too Much Water

So, here I am again. Life is just so crazy! We've been running around like wild chickens for our jobs (i.e. big presentations for both of us and interviews for me), looking for kitchens for the new house (found it, we think!), getting my hair done at a new stylist (Buddha save us all, that is always such an anxiety-ridden joy ride for me - they usually cannot get my hair color... I secretly, okay outright pine for Alfred in Boston... I digress), seeing friends who are traveling into Holland and out, and now, for the love of Allah, I am home sick with the flu. Damnit. I was doing so well this fall. Ah well, let's get over it and move on. But yesterday one of my girls told me the grim reality of people who are dying from it, which of course sent me into a tailspin. So, forget being American and going to work sick. No way. I am hanging on the couch (right - what is my problem with just sitting the F down?!?!?), hanging with Duckie the wonder cat, and watching chick flicks. J is working in Belgium today, so I am hangin', watching the rain blow sideways outside.

I suck on sending wedding thank yous. I do. I know I do. And for some reason, I can find about 25 other things to do every time I think, "Hey, this could be a good time to sit down and write even 5 thank you letters." No, "Why now?" I think. I could be hanging laundry or unloading the dishwasher or going grocery shopping or writing on my blog (read: latest excuse). It's not that hard, for crying out loud. "Dear (insert name), thank you for the lovely wedding gift(s). Love, K&J". But of course, I want to thank each person for the individual gift they gave. And that just makes it complex in my world - even though I have the list of gifts we received and from whom. Yes, that's right,Kristin. Make it harder. Good job. Still, so hard. Suck it up, Kristin. Write your thank yous. Be a decent person, eh? Yes, yes, just after I write on my blog here...

We are supposed to go to Ireland this week for 4 days. Huh. That could be interesting, given that Cork is under water at the moment. Flooded, along with much of the rest of Ireland, England, and Scotland. Not sure what we're going to do yet. We asked the hotel this weekend if we should still come. Their response: "Dear Mr. and Mrs. Q, at the moment we are without drinking water and our sanitary system is not working in full, but of course, you can imagine we will do everything to make sure you have a pleasant stay..." Uuuuum, we appreciate that you will do everything you can - we're okay delaying our trip, b/c yanno, we understand the given horrible circumstances you are all surviving in and also, it's nice to have a running toilet. Buuuuuuuuuuuuut... it's a toss-up. Part of me is like, "Hey, just buy some cheap Wellies and go wade through the streets to the pubs." The good Kristin in me says, "Why not even go volunteer some time this week in Ireland, helping the flood victims, sandbagging (oh, the irony), etc?" Then the high-maintenance, I would like a small vacation where I can relax Kristin says, "Um, no thanks. How about pushing out our reservations and sticking at home for a long weekend?" The clencher is: Tori and Tommy are coming and it would just be so lovely to hang with them for the weekend. Who cares if you're drinking Guinness with water up to your knees in a musty old pub? They smell like they've been flooded for years anyway, right? Right. Haven't quite sold myself on trekking all the way just yet. While it's very reassuring that the hotel also told us, "You can drive from the airport to our hotel," I am just not sure if they mean a car or a boat. TBD.