About My Little Brother

On December 26, 2008 ('Tweede Kerstdag' as we Dutch people call it ;)) my family came to Utrecht to celebrate Christmas with Jochem and me. Jochem and I hosted an extravagant, Italian (of course) six-course dinner and we opened Christmas presents under our Christmas tree. We had drawn names and I bought my little brother Jordi a present. I also wrote him the poem that I included below. Now, totally stealing Anna's idea from her website, I would like you to guess which present I ended up giving him (I just thought of this since the poem doesn't say which present I actually bought him). The one who guesses right first will receive a small poem by me. You know, for when I'm famous when I grow up. :P But don't expect more than ten lines, seriously, as I am on my mini sabbatical.

About My Little Brother

Let me tell you about my little brother
I call him little even though he is tall
Yes I call him my little brother
But he is the tallest of us all

My little brother has brown hair and dark eyes
And likes to dress the part
He is also sweet and considerate
And, despite his accent, very, very smart

There are three things that my little brother loves most
Besides his girlfriend Sil
Cars, hardcore music and video games
Although I have never understood the thrill

World of War Craft is my little brother’s favorite
Oh yes he loves that game
But he dislikes a lot of other things
He thinks that almost everything is lame

But I would not say that my little brother is a negative man
He has a heart of gold
He cares for his family and his friends
Although he is a little spoiled…

By this I mean that my little brother still lives at home
Where his Mom and Dad keep the house clean
Besides a fried egg he does not know how to cook
And he has never used the dryer or the washing machine

My little brother likes to live in Almelo
He thinks the town is grand
There are so many things about my little brother
That I will never understand

But then again my little brother does not understand me either
He thinks I read too many books
He probably thinks that I should finally get a real job
And start focusing on my looks

My little brother’s girlfriend Silvana
Seems to make him very happy
And together with their dog and cat
They form the perfect little family

They hope to buy a house real soon
And I hope that they succeed
I am sure that it will be a warm and loving home
I just wonder what they will eat…

For Christmas my little brother asked for three things
One was perfume by Armani
But I do not understand why he likes the stuff
Because he hates to go to Italy

He also asked for a pair of Bjorn Börg boxers
Whose designs are expensive and rare
But I just did not feel very comfortable
Picking out my little brother’s underwear

He also requested a G-STAR RAW hat
A so-called beanie black and fair
Probably not because he likes the look
But because he hates to brush his hair

I have the right to be a little mean
As my little brother’s big sis
The teasing is almost over
But what I still have left to say is this:

My little brother is also crazy about his Spanish heritage
He likes it very much
But now he does not like his surname Sijbesma
He thinks it is too Dutch
But the most important thing that you should know
About my little brother
Is that I love him very, very much

Mini Autobiography

On November 18, 2008 I had to write a so-called Mini Autobiography for my American Studies class called Topics in American Diversity: Ethnic Experience in Multicultural Context (I am telling you, these elitist Humanities professors and their class descriptions are like impotent men with their Ferraris - they think: 'the longer, the better'). The idea was to reflect on our own multicultural history so as to deepen our studies about American multiculturalism. Now, I am as much of a fan of 'talking out of your ass'-assignments as the next girl, but not being graded on extra homework is quite another thing. But since I have absolutely no energy to write anything new on this blog as I am at the moment far too busy procrastinating during my Christmas break, I figured I could reproduce it here.



I have been living in Utrecht for the past six years, but originally I am from Almelo. Almelo is a city in the east of the Netherlands in the province of Overijssel and in the region called Twente. Quite a few stereotypes are linked to this particular part of the country, and not all of them are positive. People from Twente, including my own family, speak with a thick accent and are often considered to be somewhat harsh. I can relate to these stereotypes. I lived in Almelo for eighteen years, fourteen years in the same suburban area, and pretty much hated every second of it. To me the city felt too small for my big dreams and I thought the people were prejudiced, irrational and small-minded. I also severely disliked the accent and wanted to get rid of it. I could not wait to leave and after finally receiving my high school diploma after six long years, I left for Utrecht to study Humanities at University College.

Neither of my parents were originally from Almelo. My father was born and raised in Wierden, which is a small town next to Almelo. His father had traveled from the island of Terschelling to the province of Friesland to the small town of Wierden. Eventually the entire family, my grandfather, my grandmother, my father and his seven siblings, moved to Almelo when my father was in his teens. My mother made an even bigger journey. She moved to Almelo from Spain when she was eight years old. She came from a city called Terrazza, one of the suburbs of Barcelona, but her parents originally came from Andalusía, a province in the south of Spain. Together with her parents and little brother my mother arrived in the Netherlands in the 1960s and my grandparents started working as so-called guest workers in the factories in the east and a couple of years later a younger sister was born. Eventually my parents got married and my Spanish-born uncle also married a Dutch wife. My Spanish grandparents, however, missed their homeland and soon after my two cousins, my little brother and I were born, they eventually moved back to Spain, taking my aunt with them, who was then just a teenager, and leaving their two oldest children behind in a ‘foreign’ country. Many Spanish guest workers did the same, and although there are still certain Spanish traces in the east, they are few.

I remember feeling very special as a child for being a half blood, as we used to call it. My brother and I thought it was much more fascinating than the ‘boring’ backgrounds of our Dutch peers. We were given Spanish names from the province of Cataluña, Nuria and Jordi, which made us stand out even more and forced us to spell our names and correctly pronounce them basically every single time, but we got used to it. We were crazy about our Spanish family and visited them often, sometimes more than once a year. I also clearly remember feeling more Spanish than Dutch and really connecting to Spanish culture. Moreover, a lot of Turkish and Marrocan people had moved to the area when I was a teenager, so I was used to being surrounded by people with different backgrounds. Although these ‘foreigners’ generally had a bad reputation, I saw no harm in them.

I first became intersted in the U.S. at University College. Many nationalities were represented at the international campus and I quickly befriended several Dutch and American friends who are still my friends to this day. After spending over eighteen years worth of summer holidays in Spain, I wanted something different, so in the summer of 2003 my Dutch friends and I visited our American friends in California. We stayed for a three-week road trip and since then I have been hooked. In 2004 my friends and I spent a semester abroad at the University of California, myself at UCLA. Although it was a rewarding experience, I did notice a shift in attitude. At the end of six months I wanted to go home and suddenly felt very misplaced in American culture for being so, well, ‘Dutch’. It was an unexpected feeling because I never really felt connected to Dutch culture up until then. According to my old professor Nicole Reith this was due to culture shock, and had I stayed in the U.S. for a year or longer, I would eventually have adapted, but I have doubts about this claim. Since then I have felt more Dutch than Spanish. My accent now only resurfaces when I am back home with the rest of my family and many people think that I am from the U.S. when they first meet me. During my first year at University College I tried to get rid of my accent, and somehow, over time, I did and many find my current speech somewhat odd, even though I definately did not plan on sounding English or American. I find it slightly ironic.

This does not take away a continuing interest in the U.S. After graduating from University College I started studying English at Utrecht University. I finished a minor in American Studies, spent a month in New York last summer and almost enrolled in the American Studies master program, but my wish of some day becoming a teacher stopped me. Therefore, I am all the more grateful to be able to take this class.

About Tom and Danielle's Wedding

Well. Writing a blog about Tom and Danielle's wedding has become a task of Olympic proportions. I wanted to write a piece that was informing, yet interesting, while also funny. But I just haven't been able to find the words to describe that wonderful day and that great week. And with the wedding having happened over two months ago, my planned blog about it has become more and more a mute point. Suffice it to say that it was sublime. With nothing but the old "a picture says more than a thousand words"-cliché to back me up here, I hereby present to you my favorite pictures of that time instead.

Tom and Danielle during the ceremony

with my groomsman Tyler right after the 'walking down the isle'-thing (beer and champagne were in order after so much pressure ;))

with my fellow bridesmaid and best friend Anna after the ceremony

Jochem and I with Anna and Ashwin after the ceremony

with Anna and good friend Derek after the ceremony

with Jochem, Anna, Ashwin, Derek, Tom and Danielle at Leadbetter Beach in Santa Barbara the day after the wedding (where I burned my legs a nice shade of red. Again. Sooooo Carmel summer 2006...)

Kitty Update

Here is a picture and a video from when Jochem and I visited our kitty on November 14, 2008 in Kampen.

Jochem

This is my entry for Anna's Contest. I know it is a little longer than it's supposed to be, but conciseness has never been my forte and my creative writing cannot be repressed! :P I hope you like it, sweet friend.

Anna once told me: “You want to be perceived as a bitter cynic, but you are just pretending to be one. At heart, you are an eternal optimist and romantic.”

It happened on Tuesday, September 5, 2006. I got up at the crack of dawn to pull a 15-hour shift for my job in hospitality, and my ex-boyfriend would be my boss for the day. I did what any ex-girlfriend would do when she has to spend a whole day with the man who broke her heart: I looked fabulous. I went for that cosmopolitan, New York look where I wore a big scarf instead of a coat and was carrying my large UCLA coffee tumbler because I wanted to look like one of those cool people who just can’t function without coffee, like Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex and the City and the two Lorelais in Gilmore Girls.

When we arrived on location in Amersfoort I was told by said-ex-boyfriend that I would spend the 15 hours behind the last bar with “some guy from Nijmegen”. He pointed me in his direction, towards the guy who had missed the instruction meeting because he was smoking outside with a buddy. Great.

I walked up to him, offered him my hand and said: “Are you Jochem? I am Nuria. We will be working together today behind the last bar.” He looked at me with a bemused look on his face before taking my hand and saying: “Yes, I am Jochem. I’ll show you the way.”

This man was quite a talker. He wouldn’t stop flirting with me. He did it in that annoying, confident way. He talked to me like every man who knows they can get any woman to sleep with him, talks to you. When he came back carrying supplies for the bar he looked flushed, so I asked: “Are you okay? You look flushed.” And he replied: “I’m only hot because of you.” I looked at him the way every woman who knows that they are unattainable looks at the man who just had the courage to use a lame pick-up line on her; much the same way in which my elitist literary professors look at me when I dare to suggest that Ronald Barthes was a lunatic for suggesting that the author is dead and that Jacques Derrida was his bitch: “You poor little thing, you just really don’t understand how it works, do you?” I finally looked at him and said: “You think you’re a real smooth talker, don’t you?” That shut him up for at least 5 minutes.

This went on for 15 hours and at the end of the day I was no longer worried about the ex-boyfriend because I was too preoccupied with the gorgeous, funny, albeit slightly clueless, guy from Nijmegen. Imagine my surprise when he didn’t ask for my phone number after having invited me over! Going against all things feminist, I decided to give it to him anyway.

To say that my first impression of him was not good, would be an understatement. To say that I never thought I’d be here, would be cutting it short. But somehow, almost 2 years and 3 months later, after countless dinners, drinks, movies and parties; numerous good times, several bad times, a couple of very bad times, one Friday the 13th drama, and a few broken cups; about a dozen heavenly trips to faraway places later; after red roses and chocolate cookies, butterfly kisses and more joyful R-rated information, I find myself living with this same man in a beautiful apartment in the city I love, with two goldfish in our study and a kitten on the way, with small and big plans lined up for our future, actually happy, and I can’t help but wonder: How did we get here? Because we made it happen. And even though I know we are like black and white and although we by no definition represent a perfect couple, I know that we are perfect for each other.

I would like to end with a quotation from the movie A Beautiful Mind. At the end of this film the protagonist, John Nash, uses his Nobel Prize Acceptance Address as an opportunity to thank his wife, Alicia. While I was looking for the original speech, however, I discovered that there never was a Nobel Prize Acceptance Address by John Nash. But as Anna knows, I believe these ‘details’ are best forgotten over time. So I present the quotation anyway:

I have always believed in numbers. In the equations and logics that
lead to reason. But after a lifetime of such pursuits, I ask: "What truly is
logic?" "Who decides reason?" My quest has taken me through the physical, the
metaphysical, the delusional. And back. And I have made the most important
discovery of my career. The most important discovery of my life. It is only in
the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reasons can be found. I am
only here tonight because of you. You are the reason I am. You are all
my reasons. Thank you.

Cat Drugs

And by the way, did you know that there is something called a cat nip? This is a drug that you can give to your cat to calm him down. According to Kiran's cat book it is a legal drug administered in the US and has the same effect as LSD has on humans. I mean, besides the fact that Americans are apparently also drugging their pets (no offense ;)), isn't that the most BIZARRE thing you've ever heard?! It supposedly stimulates your cat's imagination - I bet it does! I wonder if it works on humans... Perhaps I can start a lucrative man nip business now that mushrooms can no longer be sold in Dutch coffee shops and use the proceeds to finance that big world trip of ours! :P

PS: I just finished my right leg and Pesto was, indeed, staring at me. This whole pet thing is a trip!

On the Characters of Fish

Is it weird that I recognize the different character traits of my two fish? We've had them for about a month now (and they're still alive, phew!) and I think they're so different from one another. Pasta is kind of wild and crazy; he is either swimming around in circles at a fast pace or kind of floating in oblivion. Pesto, on the other hand, is very observing. Every time I come closer and stare into the fish bowl to, yes, see if they are still alive, he comes up and starts gasping for air. It's almost as if he recognizes me and is waiting for his food. Proof: I am the only one who feeds them and Pesto only comes up when I look into the bowl, not when Jochem does. Also, just now I was sitting on top of a stool in the study, right in front of the fish bowl, plucking my left leg, and as I finished it I looked to the right and saw Pesto floating in mid bowl, STARING at me! I'M SERIOUS!!! Now that I'm behind my computer he is at the bottom, playing with the green pebbles. I wonder if he starts staring again when I go back to do my right leg...

Nepal

Yesterday Jochem and I had a free Saturday. I'm not sure if you guys truly understand what this means. It meant that I had no yoga class and that I was not running laps in the park. It meant that Jochem didn't have to work. It meant that neither of us had homework (at least not for that particular day). It meant that we didn't have to clean our house, or water the plants, or clean the fish tank. We were free in the truest sense of the word, in that we slept in till 11 AM, got up, got ready, had a cup of coffee (because now that we have our very own espresso machine we have become those annoying, arrogant, coffee connoisseur, "only our own coffee is good enough" kind of folks), and went to Bagels & Beans around the corner (our neighborhood, Wittevrouwen, recently opened a Bagels & Beans store after months of renovation and Jochem and I think that this shows that the Netherlands is indeed capable of giving room to all that is good about American food. We think it's a great addition to the neighborhood!). We then proceeded to spend the entire day downtown: buying Sinterklaas presents at Nisha for our Sinterklaas party next week; checking out some clothing stores like WE, Steps and H&M; checking out the goodies at the Body Shop (they have this new rasberry body butter that I MUST purchase! It totally fits the describtion of a perfect, chemically-enhanced (although not really, since it's the Body Shop) fruity smell); buying parmezan and buffalo mozzarella cheese at the market and Italian espresso beans (more snobbery) at Bigoli, this great little Italian food store. But the best part was checking out the travel stores and the book stores. We spent some time at the Perry Sport to look at all the backpacks and rucksacks and sleeping bags (I've found really cute girly ones with flowers!) and at Selexyz Broese we looked through all the Loney Planets of all the countries we want to visit on our world trip (it will be interesting to see how we are going to bring all of them with us). We did this to see whether the climate will be right for when we want to visit each country (so as not end up in India during monsoon season or to die in Tibet of frost bite). Besides some rain that we can expect in Indonesia, all should be fine. We also checked out the section on dangers, what with those protests in Thailand and the terrorist attacks in India. According to Lonely Planet, all should be fine. Just be aware of the usual dangers, such as walking around with a lot of money and valuables. And did you know that it is not a good idea to camp out in the wilderness all by yourself as a woman? A real eye opener for me, this one. But it turns out that Nepal is CRAZY! We want to travel from Tibet to Nepal to India, but apparently, this is very dangerous. First of all, Kathmandu, Nepal's capital, is supposedly a very dangerous place to be, and travel agents discourage you from going there. Second of all, to get from Tibet to Nepal is very dangerous. There is a train, but this train is absolutely packed, in the sense that people actually sit on the roof of the train and hang on to the sides and the back of it (I mean, where would you leave your backpack?!). Also, as foreigners you are not allowed to take this train across the border. Then there are busses, but according to Lonely Planet, in a ten-day period, there have been ten fatal bus accidents on the Tibet-Nepal track, killing over 200 people. So I'm thinking of just skipping Nepal altogether.

Manchego

Our weird habit of naming our pets after the foods that we like has reached a whole new level. During one of my brightest moments of the day, I suddenly realized that the abbreviation of Manchego's official name, Juffairs Armani Manchego, is JAM. I'm not sure if it means the same in English, but in Dutch it means LEKKER! :P HOW FUNNY IS THAT?! Jochem and I get to visit him on December 14, and will hopefully get him early on January 23.

Our Future?

The quest continues! Is this getting boring already? :P I'm sorry, folks, but this is something that occupies my mind, and therefore my weblog as well. After having worried about THE FUTURE for a very long time, and consequently breaking down afterwards, I decided to not think about the future at all. This worked pretty well for a couple of days (which is HUGE for me). Yesterday Jochem and I started thinking about THE FUTURE again. We spent our Saturday night at the dining room table, having dinner and discussing our options. It was great because I was able to look at the situation with a new perspective. We decided that we definately wanted to finish our studies first. I graduate in September 2010 and Jochem in January 2011. I will try to get a job in education in September 2010 while Jochem finishes his internship in the Netherlands. When Jochem graduates in January 2011 he will try to get a job in hospitality. We will work through August and want to leave on a world trip in September 2011. Jochem wanted to leave for six months and I wanted to leave for twelve months, so in the end we decided on nine months. We made a list of all the countries we wanted to see and made a rough plan of how we were going to fit them all in. You can see the 'route' on the map. We will stay in Oceania for one month, in Asia for 3 months and in Central and South America for five months. The trip goes something like this:

Netherlands - New Zealand - Australia - Bali (Indonesia) - India - Nepal - Tibet - China - Japan - USA - Costa Rica - Cuba - Brazil - Argentina - Chile - Peru - Ecuador - Venezuela - Curaçao- Netherlands.

It's crazy, I know. We don't know what to do about our apartment, or what to do or where to go when we come back, or what to do about our pets, or if we are really able to live off our backpacks for nine months, or anything specific, really. But we DO know that we can afford it this way without having to work while traveling and without having to jeapordize any major summer holidays. Isn't it GREAT?! :P I guess it's a shame that I am still a planner at heart, but I feel much better now! :)

Jamie Cullum Is My Home Boy

Lyrics to Twentysomething:

After years of expensive education

A car full of books, and anticipation

I'm an expert on Shakespeare, and that's a hell of a lot

But the world don't need scholars as much as I thought

Maybe I'll go traveling for a year

Finding myself, or start a career

I could work for the poor, though I'm hungry for fame

We all seem so different, but we're just the same

Maybe I'll go to the gym, so I don't get fat

Aren't things more easy, with a tight six-pack?

Who knows the answers, who do you trust?

I can't even separate love from lust

Maybe I'll move back home, and pay off my loans

Working nine to five, answering phones

Don't make me live for my Friday nights

Drinking eight pints and getting in fights

I don't want to get up, just let me lie in

Leave me alone, I'm a twentysomething

Maybe I'll just fall in love

That could solve it all

Philosophers say that that's enough

There surely must be more

Love ain't the answer, nor is work

The truth eludes me, so much it hurts

But I'm still having fun and I guess that's the key

I'm a twentysomething and I'll keep being me

I'm a twentysomething!

Let me lie in!

Leave me alone!

I'm a twentysomething!

Of course, this would make anyone feel better...

His official name is Juffairs Armani Manchego!

Cheer up!

Family. Friends. I am alright. People have been calling me, leaving me voice mail messages, sending me text messages and e-mailing me all day, undoubtedly because they are afraid I am at the verge of falling apart. Any second now. My last blog was a very long rant about stuff that's been bugging me for a long time, but it is really not as bad as it sounds. I do feel a little lost, but I am not the girl from UCU anymore, nor the girl who almost lost it during her internship. I have cut down on my responsibilities and take better care of myself, I have a beautiful man to help me (when he's at home, at least :P) and family and friends for spiritual guidance. One of my students told me that a lot of people suffer from the same semi-flu that I have, and I feel a little bit better today than I did yesterday, so I'm sure it's just some sort of virus. And I already feel better about my situation after having written the blog (ah! the power of writing it 'off'!). I haven't even thought about the future all day. See? Growth! So please: DON'T WORRY (althought it's nice to know y'all care :)). But, if there is anyone out there who knows a way for me to take a sabbatical without losing my financial aid, without compromising my graduate studies, without losing my apartment, and without ending up broke back in Almelo, do share! ;) Here's a little something that I always keep in my e-mail inbox whenever I need cheering up. It's a picture Jochem sent me one day out of the blue when we had been dating for about eight months. Cheer up!

Existential Crisis

Franz Kafka is my new best friend. He and I are like this [insert picture of right index and right middle finger crossed]. I understand this man, this literary genius from turn-of-the-century Prague.

I think I am in an existential crisis. Or have a burn-out. Or both. But I just feel like crap, even though my life is pretty great. Let me tell you of some of the reasons why I feel this way.

First of all, I have absolutely NO IDEA who I am, who I've become, how I've become how I am, why I've become how I am, or whether I am like this because I want this or because I've been doing it every single day for the past six years. I used to have such a clear vision of who I was and who I wanted to be and how I was gonna get there. Graduate from high school. Leave Almelo and never come back. Go to University College Utrecht. Go to UCLA. Graduate Cum Laude. I succeeded in all of these goals. Sure, it was hard at times. During the first two weeks at UCU I pretty much called my (now ex-)boyfriend every single day in tears to let him know that I didn't fit in, that it was too hard, that I would never succeed. Although I spent sixty hours a week studying and had no time for a job or any other extracurricular activities besides drinking myself into oblivion every Tuesday night, I made it, did a good job and made some lifelong friends in the process. I became a Chief in the UCSA College Bar. One of my papers was published in Eidos, the UCU Academic Magazine. I felt invincible, unstoppable. I never thought of myself as someone who was smart, but as someone who worked hard, and since I continued working hard, I would get everything that I wanted. Or so I thought.

As graduation was fastly approaching, my father told me that any ambitions I had of studying abroad for a master program would have to be put on hold when it came to his financial contributions. UCLA had cost him too much for him to finance my dream of going to Harvard, Oxford or Cambridge, so that dream was out the window. Fortunately, I was fine with staying in the Netherlands after having spent six months in California, so this was not a major setback. I wanted to stay in Utrecht and study at Utrecht University, so I tried to get into the only master program that I wanted to get into: a prestigious research master in Literary Studies. Although I was sure I had it (I came from UCU after all), my interview didn't go so well and then the earth-shattering news arrived that said it all: I did not get in. My friend suffered the same fate when she applied for a research master in Art History, also at Utrecht University. Another friend of mine, who had heard about the Literary Studies research master from me, and who had applied to the same program, did get in. Reason for not letting me in: I hadn't taken enough Lit. classes. I could understand this because UCU only offers four Lit. classes. However, I had taken an additional four Lit. classes at UCLA, which made a total of eight. Four more Lit. classes than my friend who did get in. I was heartbroken. It became painfully obvious that they had made up an excuse to hide the fact that they just didn't want me. It's pretty much been downhill from there.

Although I did manage to get a great apartment in the neighborhood of Wittevrouwen, it was hard to overcome the illusion. Anna will know what I'm talking about. The illusion of UCU. The illusion where you're groomed for three years into believing that you 're better than anyone else, that you can do and be anything you want to be, only to be turned down by your own university. As I had to watch my fellow graduates going to important places and doing important things, I enrolled in a second bachelor program. I suppose this was a blessing in disguise. I was able to acquire a minor in American Studies and meet three beautiful girls whom I can't imagine my life without right now. But it was not so much fun having to get a job in hospitality with the frat boys and sorority girls of Utrecht whom I'd conveniently ignored while at UCU, or having to work another job in education that I loved but was not appreciated for at all by my employers or by my colleagues, or having to explain to both teachers and classmates why I was doing another bachelor program. I took extra classes and also did an internship in publishing, which almost killed me. It's one thing to study sixty hours a week on campus, but when you have to do the same when you also have a household to run, is quite a different matter. I'd wanted to go to Harvard since high school, but it turned out that even Summer School would be too expensive for someone who does not have a trust fund, to that didn't happen. I then decided to go to New York, but was unable to enroll in a university summer program as a foreign student, so I ended up spending only one month there learning things that I had learned in high school already six years before, and missing Jochem so much that it almost ruined the entire experience for me.

Then there are the CHOICES. They will one day drive me into schizophrenia, I tell you. I couldn't decide between the American Studies master program (which I LOVED because it's one of those alfa/what-are-you-gonna-do-with-it/well-it's-just-for-intellectual-saticfaction-kind of master programs) or the Educational Master (which would be practical since I wanted to teach). I had one year left of financial aid (two if I chose the Educational Master, since there's a shortage of teachers in this country), so I really had to pick just one. I ended up picking the Educational Master, sensible girl that I am. I made myself feel better by trying to get into a couple of American Studies master classes, but I could only enroll in one. I convinced myself that it would still be a challenge because I would sign up for the international track, which was also prestigious. Of course now I don't know whether I want to sign up for the international track because it's really expensive, because it's really hard (you have to take two extra classes), because you have to go abroad for three to four months (and I don't want to leave Jochem again - call me the anti-feminist if you want), because you have absolutely no control over where you get to go (and no offense, but Scandinavia or South Africa are not places where I want to spend any amount of my precious time here on earth), and because it does not seem to add anything substantial to my résumé. Still, when other people, including good friends of mine, talk about doing the international track, I get so jealous that I immediately start to doubt my objections to the program, which I even wrote down on a list (so as not to forget in situations like this). Now, do I really want to do the international track, or is it just my competitive streak (a legacy from UCU) that tells me to do it? I DON'T KNOW!!!

There are other choices as well. The second year of my Educational Master includes one year of work, combined with classes, research and reports that have to be done for the university. Should I enroll in the internship program (which will raise my student debt to about 40,000 euros but will offer me more freedom, less stress, and more structure), or should I enroll in the job program (which will stop me from going into debt even more but will force me to work harder)? Should I try to get a job at an international school and try to get into the international track so that I can still do the program without having to go abroad for three to four months? Should I get a job in Utrecht, or in another city, where all the international schools are (I love international schools, but hate commuting)? I have to know the answers to all these questions by April, when I sign up.

Then travel. Should I join Jochem when he will do his internship abroad, or should he try to find a suitable internship in the Netherlands so that we can keep our apartment? Should I give up the apartment, or should I sublet it? Should I sublet it to a friend, or to a stranger? Should I ask for more money, or not? Or should I get a job after graduation, wait six months for Jochem to graduate, and then leave together? Should we live and work abroad, or should we travel? Should we go to Italy or Spain or farther away? Should we backpack or not? Should we backpack in Asia or in South America? How about shaving and cutting your toenails when you're backpacking? Or should we both get jobs, work for a couple years, and then go abroad? For three months, six months, or a year? How will we finance it? If we want to make such a long trip right after graduation, we will have to save so much in such little time that we probably can't go on vacation at all till then, which is something I just couldn't bear. Should we get a car? How will we get a parking permit in Utrecht? Should we get our pug then, or wait until we're settled? Should we get a pug before, or after we've had kids? How old should the kids be before you have the pug? Should we give up our apartment and store our stuff at my parents' house in Almelo, then go abroad, and figure out what to do when we get back? Do we stay in Almelo, or move back to Utrecht, or to another city? Amersfoort, Den Haag, Groningen, Maastricht, Nijmegen, or somewhere in Brabant? Do we rent or buy? An apartment or a house? What do we do with the cat and the goldfish while we're gone? How do my grand wedding plans fit into all of this? Not that we're engaged or anything, but weddings are expensive, and you can't possibly get married right before or right after a major trip abroad. So when should that happen?

You see what I mean? I live in the whirlwinds of a future that hasn't even happened yet, and I can't snap myself out of it. Meanwhile I have to explain math (MATH! ME!) to elementary school kids and am forced to read really nasty, scary, Hostel-like books for my American Studies class in which eyes are pushed out of people's skulls and people's hearts are cut out and eaten, and my professor pretends that this is the kind of 'literary' stuff that'll give us some insights into multicultural America. Meanwhile, I am afraid in my own house, because I am always home alone because Jochem gets up at 5 AM and doesn't get home until 10 PM every single day for the next two months, and this is only week two. Also, I am surrounded by incompetent German professors during my master program. Not that I have anything against German professors, but they are just so scatter-brained. Unfortunately, and for reasons unknown to me, the German department seems to be in control of this master program, and I just can't understand why the people who are supposed to teach us how to be structured teachers have no structure to speak of. One professor has still not finalized the syllabus, the assignments and the reading list, and hasn't ordered the book either, and it's almost week three. It's infuriating!

And I'm sick. My entire body hurts, although I don't have the flu. I am constantly either ice cold and spending two hours straight in front of an electrical heater, or I am sweating profusely to such an extent that no deodorant could fix it, but I don't have a fever. Yet I wake up once every night covered in cold sweat. My neck, shoulders and back hurt, but not like they usually do - this time it's not the muscle pain from having the wrong posture of from working behind a computer for too long, but a pain in my bones. The bones in my legs, knees and ankles also hurt. I wonder if it's because of the hard-core yoga that I've been doing, but then, wouldn't I just have sore muscles? I have a headache that just won't go away, so I take pills all day every day, and am starting to get worried about the effects. My skin is also acting weird. I just feel so weak. I've lost four kilos in four days, because I live off oranges and soup. I feel sick, but I keep working because I'm not so sick that I can't function. I usually wake up after having slept for twelve hours, feel slightly better, then get to one class or work for four hours, and then I feel sick again. I am in bed by 9 PM and wake up at 9 AM, get work done, but then I am so tired afterwards. I wonder if I have a burn-out, or mono, or something. I've felt like this for the past six days.

I am just so, so, so TIRED! It never stops! What should I do? After writing all of this I kind of feel like a spoiled and whiny twenty-something, but you know what? It's my blog and I can at least write whatever I want!

Suggestions are always welcome.

Change of Plans

There's been a slight change of plans since my last update. The creature above is Manchego. This male (yes, it's a boy), chocolate-haired, blue-eyed cat is now our cat. My dad, who picked up his own male, chocolate-haired, blue-eyed cat yesterday reserved it for Jochem and me this morning and we will get him at the end of January when he is three months old (he was born on November 3). As I wrote in my previous update, this was not exactly 'the plan'. We were planning to get a kitten next year in the fall, but my family infected us with their kitten enthusiasm and after reading all of Kiran's book on cats and discussing the pros and cons a lot (I am in a couple now after all), we decided to go for it. Besides, everyone is always telling me to be flexible when life throws you a curve ball (or some other English expression). And we are really excited!!! :) More information can be found on: http://www.juffair.overijsselnet.nl/ (also: http://www.kinderlines.nl/juffair). Also, we named the cat Manchego because we (read: I) didn't feel that Parma was the right name for him. I tried to convince Jochem once again to name him after one of my favorite authors like James (Joyce) or Ernest (Hemingway), or after that crazy English king who got married a bunch of times and beheaded Queen Elizabeth's mother, Henry, but to no avail, especially not when Anna started to intervene and said we should stick to our food theme. So now our cat will be named after a Spanish sheep cheese as opposed to an Italian ham.

On Pets

Jochem and I love animals. My animal love has an obsessive side to it in that I support several animal organizations (and have convinced Jochem to do the same) and can't bear to see animal cruelty, not even in movies; however, I do not even come close to being a vegetarian. I blame my Spanish culinary upbringing and my meat-driven boyfriend for this, but the truth is, I have no willpower. I see things in black and white. Were I to stop eating meat for the animals, I feel that I would also have to stop eating fish in order for it to make sense. And this is what always stops me. I can imagine giving up steak and luncheon meat and I can even imagine living without tuna on my pizza, but as soon as I remember Kyushu, the Japanese restaurant where Jochem and I go to once a month and spent fifty euros on the best sushi I have ever had and where the wait staff recognize us and don't even give us menus anymore because they know we always order the same things, I always give up.

But I have always been an animal friend and as a child my little brother Jordi and I were able (or should I say: allowed) to take care of almost every pet known to man: goldfish, birds, hamsters, rats, rabbits and lots and lots of cats. For some reason, guinea pigs never made the cut, nor did my one true wish: a dog. A puppy Golden Retriever to be exact. This obviously scarred me for life, because I still want a dog. So does Jochem. Exept the Golden Retriever has made way for a new breed: a pug. Pugs are the absolute cutest puppies and Jochem and I desperately want one. Not just because we think they're cute, but because we truly believe a pug would be a perfect dog for us and for our life style.

Never a couple to "go over ice in one night" (yay for Dutch expressions), we did a lot of research. We walk together a LOT. Once a week we walk around the city center of Utrecht and several times a week we walk through the Griftpark near our house. We are always jealous of those people who are accompanied by a dog, so one time we looked up a book. We were looking for a dog that we could take out walking, but not a dog that would need hours a day of running (think: huskies or German shepherds). We also didn't want to worry too much about grooming since we both hate cleaning and because I am such a neat-freak when it comes to my house. It turned out that so-called companion dogs would be our best bet since these are usually small, therefore don't require a lot of excercise or food, and are very attached to their owners. They can even be potty-trained! They are basically cats (the book said this, not me), since they don't require a lot of care, like cats, but are not as strong-willed as cats. This sounded perfect for us, but with us being poor students who travel a lot and have no idea where we'll be in the next few years, we don't feel it would be right to get Cracker just yet. Yes, we already have a name for our future pug. So as when we walk in the park and are jealous of all the other dog owners, we say "I wish Cracker were here". I'm not kidding you.

So, with our pug plans put on hold (GREAT alliteration!), we figured getting a cat first would make more sense. A cat is a stubborn kind of creature but from experience I know that they can be very sweet, they can stay indoors, they clean up their own mess and you can even let them stay by themselves for a weekend. But getting a kitten requires a lot of money and attention as well, something we just don't feel ready for yet. My aunt might give us a kitten next year when her two cats have gotten together, but until then there will be no Parma. That's the name we've given our future cat. I'm still not kidding you.

And after we decided we weren't ready for the dog yet and wanted to practice for the dog with the cat but decided we weren't ready for the cat yet either, we decided to practice for the cat with two goldfish. And that's how Pasta and Pesto came into our world. Yesterday Jochem and I went downtown to an animal store and bought the whole nine yards: a fish bowl, green pebbles, some water plants, fish food, a fish net, two devices that allows us to leave for either a weekend or a week without starving our animals, and, of course, two goldfish. We are determined to name all of our pets after food (see the sections on Cracker and Parma), and so we've named the golden fish Pasta and the black fish Pesto. We think it's a perfect match! :) I've also tried to convince Jochem to name them James and Joyce or Ernest and Hemingway, but he hasn't fallen for it yet. We placed the fish bowl in our study/extra bedroom where we spend most of our time, on the table next to the sofa bed. It''s silly but we really like our new pets and talk to them all the time and check about every five minutes to see if they're still alive and generally feel very good about this new 'responsibility' of ours (I mean, it's not like we can go to Italy again for four weeks without coming home to a nasty situation). I even wrote "Welcome Pasta and Pesto!!!" on our fridge!

Now, let's just hope that the future dog won't drive the future cat crazy so that it won't eat our present fish.

And then...

...you're stuck at George Bush International Airport in Houston, Texas for almost 20 hours.

I've missed you, Cali!

I spent the last seven days spending hours upon hours in the library, canceling social engagements and generally losing my mind, in order to relax in California. Although my master is pretty much causing me to go nuts in general, the past week has been particularly hard. Which is why I'm stoked (note the Californian slang -- or is it just American?) to say that I've finished all of my homework, have (almost) packed all of my things into my refrigerator of a suitcase, and am ready to fly to Los Angeles tomorrow. I still think I might die in a horrible plane crash, but I'm trying not to let that spoil the fun. I also packed all of the books and magazines that I can't read normally due to the insufferably boring linguistics texts that I have to read in grad school. The best part, besides being back in Cali of course and seeing familiar faces and places again, is that Anna and I are bridesmaids!!! It's pretty exciting, because the Dutch are way too 'nuchter' to engage in such traditions. I'm very excited and curious to see how it will all go, and I'll make sure to take lots of pictures and write a long story about it when I come back. Rest me nothing to say but: "Bye bye suckas!" :P

A Little Update on the Life of Me

In my first weblog I promised to update you on a number of things going on in my life, and I'd like to do that now before I head off to California on Wednesday (and because I also don't feel like doing any homework so close to going on a trip ;)).

First of all, about Jochem. September 15 was our two-year anniversary, a big milestone for both of us, and we officially moved in together on August 1, even though Jochem had been living in our apartment from mid July onwards to renovate the place. He did a great job -- together with family and friends he turned an old student apartment complex into a grown-up's apartment. I've always loved my apartment and the neighborhood in which it stands, Wittevrouwen (or White Women :P), but right now I am just absolutely in love with it! Our apartment consists of the top two floors of an old house, and what's great is that we have a LOT of space and massive windows that offer the most amazing light. But it being a very old house, I have a sort of love and hate relationship with it. For example, the house is not properly insulated and the windows are very thin, so in the summer it gets pretty hot inside, but what's worse is, during the winter it's FREEZING! Sometimes it's even colder inside than outside, no kidding! One time I spent the entire morning in my fake Uggs and woollen sweater only to go out and see that it was actually really warm outside. There's nothing much we could do about the cold except for hang up curtains everywhere in order to avoid a draft, and placing the thermostat in the living room and out of the hall. We did give the entire place a good paint job, though, and thanks to my parents we now also have a brand new carpet in the living room. We also bought some new furniture and lots of other cute things. Jochem and I spent five whole days cleaning up, merging our things together and putting everything into place, but now we really have an amazing house! :) We have a big living room, an open kitchen, a teeny tiny balcony (but it fits a table and two chairs, so who cares?), a restroom, a bathroom, a bedroom and a study/extra bedroom. We LOVE it!

Living with a man, however, and living with Jochem in particular, leads to several interesting things. Anyone who knows me, knows me to be the biggest perfectionist and control freak around, and anyone who knows Jochem, knows that he is very messy, scatterbrained and unorganized. You'd think hell would break loose straight away, but it's really not that bad. We divided the chores evenly and Jochem really considers my feelings (most of the time). I never have to put down the toilet seat, I rarely find his hair in places where I don't want to find them (at least not more often than my own annoying hair), and somehow I've convinced him that it's a good idea that he cooks and does the dishes every night. But there are also some other things. For example, he always wears these black socks that leave little black fluffy things on the carpet and it drives me INSANE! Also, one of my chores is to do laundry, and I always ask Jochem to put his jeans in the wash inside out, and his socks separated from each other, but he ALWAYS forgets! So on Saturday I threw his jeans to his head. That serves him well. But overall, it's really great to live together with Jochem after two years of a weekend relationship.

The cherry on our sunday was the week we spent in Cinque Terre in Italy. We had been to Italy the year before on a four-week road trip, but had only been to Cinque Terre one day (and only because my friends Marije and Michiel had told us about it). We immediately loved it there and vowed to come back within five years. So when my parents decided to give us a week-long vacation abroad for my graduation, we did not have to think long before we booked a B&B in Manarola during the month of August. We took the train to Milano and from there to Manarola, and spent five blissful days hiking, touring the different villages, swimming in crystal clear waters and having delicious Italian foods and drinks. It is absolute heaven and anybody who goes to Italy simply MUST go to Cinque Terre as well. We spent our final day in disappointing Milano before returning to our rainy native country.

Other things that have happened is the big Housewarming/Anniversary/Graduation/Birthday Party that Jochem and I threw on September 20 for forty of our close family and friends. Something that I never wanna do again, by the way, because it causes a lot of stress and you end up cleaning your new home all of the next day after that, but we did end up having a great time. Luckily I have amazing friends who prepared their signature dishes for our guests, and a friend with a driver's licence and a car who helped us get supplies. We had people coming over from 2 PM until well past midnight, received a lot of great gifts, and were able to show everyone our new home.

Also, after three years of studying English Language and Culture and American Studies at Utrecht University, I received my second Bachelor of Arts on September 29, together with my good friend Mag. We had given a graduation party together the Saturday before, and since this was my second BA, and not nearly as big a deal as University College Utrecht was, it didn't feel nearly as impressive. But perhaps that's also because I see this second BA as a means to an end, in order to enroll in the educational master. My parents and brother also weren't there because my parents were on vacation in Spain and my brother had to stand in for my dad at work, but luckily some of my good friends showed up and we had lunch afterwards at Broers (or Brothers) in downtown Utrecht. I also got a lot of flowers.

So now that I have this second BA I was able to start the educational MA program at Utrecht University in September, and I gotta tell you: it's no picnic. Grad school is very hard -- it feels like I'm back at UCU except now I only have two classes instead of four and I have a household to run and groceries to buy and food to prepare and cleaning to do and I also have to work in order to pay for all of this. So it's been tough reading five hundred pages every week and spending hours upon hours in the library, but luckily I am very interested in the material and hopefully I'll get more into it as the year progresses. Since I no longer work as a teaching assistant at the university, I've been looking for a new job and I finally have an interview with the Studiekring, an organization that helps Dutch students in primary and secondary school study. It is in Utrecht and I would be a tutor for Dutch, English, German and French. The organization has a good name and the job sounds great, but I wonder how I'd find the time to work.

Luckily I have also found my new religion: yoga. I first came into contact with yoga six years ago when a guy named Roni, a fellow student from UCU, started giving lessons in power yoga. Anna was immediately converted, but I soon quit because it hurt my knees. I started doing yoga again recently to relieve stress and to strengthen my body. A couple of months ago I had to quit running and give up my goal of running a half marathon due to a leg injury, but after spending the entire summer not working out I was ready to get started again. Jochem got me a DVD called Yoga for Dummies, which I started doing once a week, while running twice a week. This quickly turned to running only once a week and doing yoga twice a week, and now I don't run at all any more and only do yoga. I've even started taking classes at Yoga Moves, a great yoga center run by a woman from California, which is conveniently situated near my house. I absolutely love yoga now and dream of scenarios where I become a yoga instuctor and am forever surrounded by peace and happiness (although Anna says this might be because I'm just too stressed out ;)). After I return from my trip I'll take a couple of more classes and then we'll see where it goes.

The last important event happened yesterday when I turned 25. I always feel like I should feel different or care about getting older, but I never do (although I did buy night cream because I figured I should start using night cream now that I am quarter life, but I now realize I forgot to apply it yesterday). I wanted to keep it small because of all the other big parties I've thrown recently, so together with Jochem and six other friends we had dinner at Humphrey's, a really good and hip restaurant near where I live. I got a lot of cards and some cool presents, although I believe more is to come...

Looking at the long update that I wrote I realize that I must write more often, and I will try to do just that as soon as I return from my trip to California. Danielle and Tom are getting married, Anna and I are bridesmaids, and all of us will be there for a big reunion. I can't wait! :)

Here I am!

Well, it took me quite some time to get here, but here I am! Thanks to Anna (a very talented artist (I told you first! :P) and, above all, a great friend) I finally have my own weblog where I can write. The ultimate anti-climax then is of course that I am way too tired to write right now, but I plan to start very soon. A lot has happened since New York that I have to tell you about: moving in together with Jochem, Cinque Terre in Italy, our two-year anniversary, graduating from Utrecht University, turning 25, yoga, the upcoming American wedding, and much more. But right now I just want to say thanks to Anna, so here's a memory for you to make you smile between your extremely busy job and the harshness and depression of the Dutch weather in the fall (rain! wind!). ;) Can you believe I STILL have that pair of jeans in my closet after four years of not fitting into them?! They're my skinny jeans! :P (insert Sex and the City reference: season 6, episode 7, The Post-It Always Sticks Twice). But I'm digressing...

Beāta memoria amīcitiārum dulcium numquam dēlēbitur!
(The happy memory of sweet friendships will never be destroyed!)