A Little Village Called Heemstede

WTF. Quentin Tarantino is so disturbed. Brilliantly disturbed. But disturbed. I should always prepare myself for his movies, and yet, somehow I walk in with naive expectation that it will be so artistic and unique that I can't possibly think of anything else that might come along with the creativity - and oh, it's always artistic and unique with Quentin, to say the least. I forget just how nauseatingly graphic and politically incorrect and just so freakin' wrong everything is with Quentin from the moment I sit down with my (insert here Dutch equivalent of popcorn at the movies) gummy sours and diet cola. We saw Inglorious Bastards last night. It should be seen, without a doubt. Just be sure you (a) have eaten a good meal a couple hours beforehand, (b) had the pre-op discussion with yourself that gore and filth and rot will roll off your shoulder for the next 3 hours, (c) can appreciate reading subtitles - if you're watching it in a foreign country, those subtitles will be in that country's language - and turn off any foreign language skills you have b/c they will simply confuse you throughout the movie, (d) remind yourself that movie blood is made of sugar and water and food color and even when you hear the "squish!" of a finger digging through someone open wound, it's just clay and water and sugar and food coloring, and (e) you release all preconceived notions you have about history or frightful leadership. If you can keep these things in mind, you're golden. Otherwise, bring a barf bag, sit back and enjoy the ride and don't expect to walk out of the theater feeling like the world is a beautiful place.

Dutch authorities do not take driving infractions lightly. In fact, it's a smidge exaggerated, if you ask me: http://jalopnik.com/5365069/dutch-trucker-receives-45-speeding-tickets-while-parked. Still, I do think breathing Dutch traffic authorities are very fair and the most "customer friendly" police around the world. Sure beats Italian police who stop tourists and site them for jaywalking while ordering a mid-afternoon espresso.

I get to wear jeans to work - even at the all-hands meeting when the CEO came to visit Tuesday. I'm lovin' working with a bunch of smahties. This was the first video I was given to watch for the new employee induction: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSsNs6LPqT0. For the record, no one around here is wearing ski caps or baggy jeans that start at their knees (they're tight and pegged - this is Europe, yanno). But we do have lunch together in the cafe', Dutch style: everyone breaks for lunch and eats whatever they brought from home or bought at the hot grill and chit-chats about whatever. My first day, I said to J: "What are we going to talk about every day?!?!" He said, "Kristin, you don't have to talk the whole time!" Oh. Okay. That's true.

Just putzin' along with life these days, lovin' every minute of it. Wish I could say we were sleeping more and relaxing at home with the wedding stuff behind us, but Lordy! Now we've found something else to occupy our minds and evenings: we're house hunting. It's so exciting, exhausting, scary, exhilarating, and time-consuming, especially since we're looking in another "state", if you will - altogether different province up past Amsterdam near the coast. With us both working up by Haarlem (not to be confused with the Harlem we all know and love in the U.S.), we decided after the first two weeks of both commuting around 2 hours each way that, hey, it would be a good idea to move closer to work! So, we've been checking out towns, villages, cities - all neighborhoods in that area to see, first of all, where we want to live and then what we can afford. Well, we decided this weekend that we're going to find something in a sweet little town much like where we live now, called "Heemstede". We found our city! Village? Whatever it is - we found it! Now if the nice people at the palace would just sell for a couple hundred Euros... Hmmm... Heemstede ahs it's own sweet little town/center, and it's about a 15 minute bike ride into the city of Haarlem and only about 25-30 mins drive from both of our work places. Hey, that would be nice. So, Tuesday evening we go to see a house in Heemstede. Fingers crossed. I'm excited. Girlfriend's already imagining where to put the red Chinese bureau - I know, I need to calm down and enjoy the process. I am so enjoying it!

The Devil Wears... a Mullet

Geert Wilders is an idiot. He's an elected Chamber Representative in Holland who represents the rednecks, drunks, haters, civil violators of all imaginable types, and sleazeballs who have the Queen Beatrix-given right to pencil in a ballot. You might recognize him in the white robe and hood he likes to wear on the weekends... nice little fire stoked, a couple of crosses... Ohhhhhhhhhh, Geert. You make my skin crawl. Latest shenanigan (and waste of taxpayer Euros): proposed tax: muslim women should pay a a tax to wear their shaylah. Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh, why not tax farmers for wearing their wooden shoes? How about taxing women for the extra space they take in the bus for their boobs? Or we could tax Americans for buying Nestle' Tollhouse chocolate chips. Oh, I know: let's tax old people for every year they live longer after 65. Brilliant. Look at him: clearly he seems like a Zen kinduh guy. R.I.H. Geert. But while you're here, get a decent color job on your... gelled... mullet.

Movie Stars, Bacon & Heaven

There are so many beautiful, funny, teary, moving, random and outright goofy things that happened during our wedding week. I just don't even know where to start. And I know I won't do it any justice in words because what happened is truly beyond expression. I married the man of my dreams, with a lot of love in the room, with people we love all around us - and some we love who were missed so very much. Here are some quotes from the wedding week:


"This is the best wedding I've ever been to!"

"You look like a movie star."

"The men in our lives kick ass."

"I am in heaven."

"Why is there so much bacon on my plate?"

"Pick some flowers and put them in your hair."

"I feel like I am going to wake up from this crazy, wonderful dream."

"Can we take a bottle of wine back to the room?"

"This is the best vacation I've ever had!"

"This was exactly what we wanted: a room full of people we love, celebrating our love; dinner to die for; a party where everyone's dancing, laughing, and singing."

"I think you're still on your honeymoon. Call me back when you're done. Well, not when you're DONE... just call me."

There is so much more to tell, but for the moment, we are just kicking back, remembering that amazing day, sighing deeply and feeling very lucky to have so many wonderful people in our lives. Hey, we're married folk! I am officially now Mrs. Q.

Sixteen Sighs of Relief

Ah, Johnny Hughes. You were one of the milestone pop culture drivers of my time. Sigh. Nothing beats the scene in Sixteen Candles when Ginny, the older sister, is jumping like a fairy and trying to catch rice with her tongue after her wedding outside the church (too many muscle relaxers). If rice wasn't a bird killer after weddings, I'd do it sober! That was one of the first times I peed myself just a little bit and cried because I laughed so hard at a scene in a movie. Pretty sure it was because I saw a little piece of myself in her. And don't get me started on Long Duck Dong. Genius! Goooooong!!! (that had to be included for effect - Pavlov's Dog moment for you, wasn't it?)

Mrs. Q kicks butt. She does. She came with me for the 5th time (we counted today) to the wedding dress shop to have my final fitting. She helped me kick some wedding dress owner booty so I didn't have to pay for/take a corset with D cups that made me look like I had little secret pockets under my boobs to hold things. Uh, no thank you. Mrs. Q very nicely helped them understand in her perfect, polite-but-don't-F-with-me Dutch that we would not be needing to buy a corset that smelled of someone else's perfume. I added for effect my practiced Dutch (translation): "I am NOT happy." And that translates "Kristin Clear" in all languages when I say it - I'm pretty sure about that. I apologized to Mrs. Q later that I wasn't very polite with the shop ladies. She patted me on the back and said there was nothing to apologize for. She's such a good mother-in-law. After all the pain of trying on 20+ wedding dresses this year... and trying to talk the shop ladies out of ordering me a big lady size which they today had to cut back to a smaller lady size - they asked "Oh, how much weight did you lose?!?!?" in their fake, astonished southern belle Dutch accents... I said nicely, "Not even close to what you just cut off... about 8 pounds in total (really not impressive)"... don't even THINK you can find justice in ordering me extra material that you tried to make me pay for! (Side note: nothing makes a woman feel fat like a wedding shop telling you that you need to pay 15% more for extra material because your hips curve. Don't make me hurt you! And btw, curves are in!). I have paid for my dress that finally looks b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l, and can now enjoy going in to pick it up with my mom when she arrives on the 19th. Amen! Can I get an amen?!?! Somebody throw me a rice kernel!

Cats, Bugs & Corsets

We never know what we're going to find when we (a) wake up in the morning, (b) come home, or (c) walk out of the room for 22 seconds. We have primal cats who eat anything that smells spicy, garlicky, oniony, or remotely close to a dead mouse. This Sunday it was Mexican. Who can blame them? A nice taco salad always tastes so good when it's hot and there's nothing else to do but tear apart taco shells. They seemed so cute and innocent when we adopted them...

This morning I was so deeply asleep, dreaming, that when J came to give me my morning hug, I thought a bug was crawling on my back. I jumped and screamed in my own syrupy sleep speak, bucking J off my back like he was riding a smokin' bronco. Don't read into that. Nice way to send your sweetie off to work, eh?

We are getting married in 2 weeks! YEAAEAEAEAAEAHHH! So exciting! We both have our final fittings this week for our suit/dress. I'm not wearing a pant suit, just in case that was confusing. People start arriving from all over the world exactly two weeks from today. I cannot WAIT. All the planning is now coming together. And we all know that makes Kristin so happy! Reminding myself that I need to be relaxed and prepared for the little things that don't go the way I wrote them down on my spreadsheet. You can remind me that I said that. Channeling Buddha...

Off to the hotel to check on babysitters for guests and their chillins, then to the wedding accessories store (yep, there is one!) to look at corsets and schtuff. Checkin' it off the list! Oh, let me have my fun!

Domestic Goddess: Louie & the Laundry

It's true: you really do have to wear in your wedding shoes before the Big Day. I wore mine the other day for my first dress fitting, and Giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirl, after 5 hours of standing there while women buzzed around me with about 150 pins they stuck into my skin, er my dress, my feet were barkin'! So I will be wearing them in my pijamas when making breakfast and laying out on the balcony trying to soak up some rays so I don't have green legs for the wedding. You think I'm joking...

Sitting here at the keyboard, amidst lolly-gagging between the kitchen and hanging laundry in the guest room, listening to the Louis Armstrong mix for the garden toast at the wedding. Takes me back to high school jazz choir... we were so good! We just thought we were makin' music like everyone else. We were Outliers: there was some pattern in our families, our culture, our birth dates... something... because we were so good - beyond the norm of good. It's fun to think about those days - the height of musical Kristin. National jazz festivals... state choirs... lead roles in musicals... something was in the air. It's fun to think about, and listen to that music now, and know it's going to be part of our wedding. Legacy is powerful. It builds gorgeous memories, new and old.

I'm swimming and floating a little bit with work. Not really sure which way is up at the moment. I miss using my brain. I miss being creative. I miss giving something to others from my mind. "... autonomy, complexity, and a connection between effort and reward are, most people agree, the three qualities that work has to have if it to be satisfying." ~ Malcolm Gladwell, Outliers. Not sure what will come next. That doesn't sit nicely with me. I invented planning. It's not fun not planning where I'm going. Yep, I know, ya gotta be flexible with life... this is about as flexible as it gets, baby.

This week, I heard from a third person - a peer from the field, that my Dutch isn't good enough for work. Honestly, it was pretty defeating. I am working my booty off trying to learn this language and use it in my work (whatever that is). No matter how hard I try, no matter how long I speak Dutch with my family at Sunday dinners, or with J while we walked through the forest yesterday, or with the post office lady when I'm sending letters, it's just not enough. I'm knee-deep in Dutch books, CDs, and worksheets for a year now (more so these past three months)... yet, who am I kidding with expecting to walk into a boardroom and deliver a presentation in Dutch to hiring managers? Yeah, felt pretty crappy, between you an me. Last week when I heard that from a potential employer who really wants my skills, but needs me to speak business Dutch, my heart sank. Had a couple of other blows Saturday with my immigration paperwork and my hair colored like a skunk at the salon, and yanno what? I don't feel like being strong or positive at the moment. Oh, yanno, I will. It's in my chemistry. I'll suck it up and march along. But for the record: I'm miffed. Was sad and frustrated. Now I'm just ticked. I've got things to do in my life, people! If you aren't going to contribute to my campaign to live life to the fullest, make money along the way, and look great while doing it, kindly, step aside!

You know I rarely vent, but I've had enough. I don't want to hear anymore "No", "you can't", or "that's not for you." How about a "maybe"? That's all I ask! No one puts Baby in the Corner!

Well, Girlfriend needs an outlet. I started writing. Yep, got my next book going. And THAT I CAN DO. No one can stop me.

Why Does This Make Me Cry?

At first I thought, "No freakin' way! Why would you ruin your wedding like this?!?!" Then I started watching how much fun all the friends were having, the audience, the groom, the bride - damn, they all have rhythm! They had so much fun and what a day they had! I choked myself up at how special their day was. THAT is what your wedding day does to you - it makes you feel so special and loved by all the people in your life. Mkay, I'm gonna stop writing cause it just makes me cry like a baby!

You go on with yo' bad selves! Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-94JhLEiN0

Funny side note: It would be even funnier if it was a wedding in some random farm community in Missouri. All I can think of is Footloose! Help me!