Okay, so here's my first week in a nutshell:

Monday -- on the way to the airport
The trip down to Dulles was uneventful. The woman who drove me, Angie, was very nice and we chatted throughout the whole trip. She of course asked me "Why the Netherlands?" and I gave her the whole story. And funnily enough, she had her own story to tell me. Turns out her husband is Norwegian and after they'd known each other for only a month or so, he went back to Norway, quit his job, and moved to the US to be with her. :) They've now been married for 4 years.

The kitties (I suspect it was Hobbes) had a little accident on the way down. I asked Angie to stop at a gas station so I could clean the cage a little bit. Otherwise the smell would've asphyxiated us before we ever reached Dulles. Ah... I love my little darlings.

Monday -- at the airport
Oh. my. god. I NEVER want to travel with pets again. It was an absolute nightmare. It took me an hour and a half to check in. I stood there waiting and waiting while British Airways employees kept throwing little gems at me like "Well, I'm not sure you can travel with both cats in one carrier," and "you owe us $825 to take your cats with us." At one point, I was so frustrated, I started crying. (big surprise there) They made me take Tucker out so they could measure her shoulders (because you know they're so prominent through all that fat) to ensure that the cage was 3 times wider than her. (thank god it was her shoulders and not her ample tush) Eventually, I paid $578 to transport them ($53 more than I'd tripled confirmed with them earlier) and both kitties were able to go in one carrier. For my trouble, they upgraded my seat to a slightly nicer one -- right in the front row of "World Class" -- whatever the hell that is. It was great, I could perfectly see into business class and notice that half the cabin was empty and that their seats laid down totally flat. They looked so comfortable. sigh...

Monday/Tuesday -- the flight
I slowly started to hate the business class people in their cushy seat/beds as I became more uncomfortable. I did manage to get about 2 hours of sleep, though. Oh and the food was very good. I mean, it wasn't like dining at Tavern on the Green or anything but it was definately enjoyable for airline food.

Tuesday -- my London layover
Worried about the kitties the entire time. Drank a Starbucks latte. (my last expensive indulgence for awhile)

Tuesday -- Flight from London to Amsterdam
Panic started setting in. What the hell am I doing??? What if this doesn't work out??? All the way there, I felt like I'd consumed about 50 cups of coffee. Jitter jitter... bzzzz... bzzzzz... My nervousness was punctuated by moments when I felt really happy and then I'd get this goofy grin on my face. I'm sure the guy next to me thought I was a psychiatric patient.

Tuesday -- Amsterdam arrival
In line at customs, I worried for a moment that they wouldn't let me in. Like they'd ask me a trick question -- "What was the name of our queen in 1576?" -- and when I answered wrong they'd send me home on the next plane. Fortunately, the Dutch seem to not care one farthing that I want to live amongst them. The customs officer gave me a bored look when I told him I was relocating here "Jaaaaaa... okay... then you must go to the Foreigners' Police. Next!"

I wandered bleary eyed around the luggage carousels wondering if my kitties would show up next to my suitcases on the conveyor belt. I walked up to an information desk to ask and was surprised when I saw Martijn on the other side of the glass behind the information area. He gave me a huge smile and waved. I got a big stupid smile on my face too and I could feel myself blushing, especially when a slow smile started to spread across the face of the man in front of me. He must've thought I was hitting on him. (and that was only reinforced later when I walked away and kept looking back to smile at Martijn. The information desk guy kept smiling back at me. He probably thought "Wow those Americans are soooo friendly.")

My kitties and luggage soon showed up and, to my profound relief, Tucker and Hobbes were safe and sound.
I walked out to the visitors area with my things piled high on a luggage cart (the kitties on top). The agents there asked if I had paperwork for the cats. I said yes. They said okay, go on. What?? You don't even want to see it?? This paperwork cost me $350 and huge amounts of stress!! The Dutch apparently also don't care one farthing that my cats want to live amongst them too.

Martijn and I hugged and kissed nervously and basically giggled like idiots. Okay, I giggled like an idiot. I was so nervous. I mean, I know this person, I love this person, but it's been three months since I've seen him (and only about a month that I've spent in his presence) and well... this is just weird. After a few mintues of um... what would you call it? getting reacquainted?, we started for the car. We stepped onto a conveyor belt type escalator (meaing there was an upward slope to it) and Martijn promptly knocked my kitties onto the ground. They fell about 4 feet onto the belt. Ah yes, excellent first impression. The kitties weren't hurt but I think I did detect a bit of an accusatory look like "You made us travel in a PLANE for TEN HOURS and NOW your new boyfriend dumps us onto the ground!!! What the hell, mom!"

Tuesday -- the drive to Enschede (pronounced En-ssccchhhha -day -- basically say that middle part like you're clearing your throat. This language is fun.)
This place is reeeallly flat. There are lots of cows and sheep grazing in very green (and flat) fields. There are many traffic jams and there are sensors that detect how traffic is moving and then adjusts the speed limit accordingly. (the speed limit is displayed on electronic signs)

Alright, I've gotta cop out here before giving you most of the week. Some of my packages arrived a few days ago and I need to run down to the post office to retrieve them.