Missing my Car

This is a rainsuit.

This is what you have to wear on your bike when you live in a soggy country where you 1) Don't have your license 'cause you didn't feel like paying 300 Euros to get it and 2) Can't drive the car all the time anyway because it costs about $100 to fill the tank.

Today, I have to bike about 40 minutes (1 way!) to the place where I'll be taking my Dutch courses. (It's a test of my skills. I gotta talk and write and do Dutch the whole time... yikes) Because I'm traveling a healthy distance on my bike, M thought it would be good idea if I was introduced to his rainsuit -- just in case, not that it ever happens, but just to be careful -- it should rain on my way there. I have resisted the idea of the rainsuit since I heard such an awful thing exists, but last night I finally gave in. I realized this thing is better than spending a few hours in soggy jeans and dripping hair.

And because my heart was filled with such glee, such pure unadultered joy, that I had finally succumbed and accepted that the rainsuit is my future, I couldn't help giving M a ringing rendition of "Singing in the Rain." If only I'd had a few lampposts to twirl around.

Crazy as a Door

Sometimes M will say something to me in English that I recognize is a direct translation of a Dutch saying or turn of phrase. For the most part, I get the sentiment because many Dutch sayings are just like American ones, only with slight differences. Other times, it's like he's landed here from another planet and I'm trying to figure out what new and strange language he's speaking.

I thought I'd share a few:

1) It was the drop that let the bucket overflow. (Just like our "It was the straw that broke the camel's back.)

Incidentally, I get why the Dutch are talking about water. I mean there are canals here and dams and water falls out of the sky almost every damn day. But uh... why exactly do we talk about camels? It's not like our ancestors headed west to the great gold rush of '49 on the backs of camels, did they? Why isn't this saying something like "It was the flask of whiskey that broke the mule's back?" This I would get. Or we could even update it "It was the Big Mac that broke the chair."

2) High trees catch a lot of wind.

This saying has the same meaning as another, less official, turn of phrase that goes something like this: If you put your head above the field it'll get chopped off. Nice, huh?

Actually, these sayings are good examples of a basic tenet of Dutch society: Don't stand out from the crowd. Blend in. Don't draw attention to yourself.

And it's one of the things American expats here have some troubling learning. We're just the opposite. Look at me! Yoohoo, over here! Let me tell you how great I am and what I can do for your company! (A friend of mine was recently rejected for a job and one of the reasons the interviewers stated for not thinking she was a good fit was "that she talked too much about herself during the interview..."

3) You're such a luxury horse. We say "clothes horse" but the Dutch say this to anyone who likes expensive things, not just clothes.

4) After the calf has drowned, then one fills in the well.

5) If one sheep is over the dam, the rest will follow.

6) If the cat is away from the house, the mice will dance. (I imagine that the mice like to cha cha.)

7) Oost, west, thuis best. This translates to east, west, home, best.

8) The clock doesn't tick anywhere like it does at home.

9) Samen uit, samen thuis. This is my favorite Dutch saying. It translates to "Together out. Together home." It's a nice couple thing.

10) To tie the cat to the bacon. (To make something too tempting to resist.)

I'm sure that this must mean that the cat is just going to eat the bacon because it's right there, tied to it's paw, but, the first thing that popped into my head was the family dog thinking "Well, shoot, I've been wanting to eat the cat for years and now I get bacon in the deal too, so why not?"

11) To find the dog in the pot. (Means you're too late for dinner and the dog is already eating the leftovers.)

14) Better to have a bird in hand, then 10 in the air.

15) The grass is always greener on the other side of the hill. Um, there are no hills in Holland so I find this one a bit perplexing. There are fences, so maybe they should just start using our version.

16) It's like comparing apples and pears.

17) The fence is off the dam. (means that someone's out of control)

18) She has corpses in the closet.

We have skeletons. I guess the secrets the Dutch keep are meatier. (ba-dum dum!)

19) To find bears in the road. (to come upon unforseen problems)

20) I'm sweating like an otter.

21) Fit as a little hen. 'Cause, you know, chickens always watch what they eat and get plenty of exercise.

22) And my absolute favorite: He's crazy as a door.

Yes, if you see a person acting like a nut at a party -- dancing around, drinking too much, pinching the ladies, whatever -- you can compare his crazy antics to the thing you also know to be a real lunatic with all it's opening and closing and letting people into places. A door.

It's okay, I don't get it either.

USA Photos

A selection of photos from our trip to the US (Martijn's first ever journey to my fine land...) are finally posted at Flickr.

Click the link on the left-hand side to see them.

Conspiracy Theories

M downloaded a few 9/11 conspiracy theory films from the internet and now that I've watched them, I feel like I need to urge anyone who pops onto this site to do the same. (The film Loose Change is a good place to start.

Do I believe all the claims? No, of course not.

Am I disturbed by some of the arguments enough to think "Hmmm... did my government tell me everything? Absolutely.

And the one question that really bothers me: Why did WTC building #7 collapse?

The official explanation is that a fire started in the building from flying debris from the twin towers. But when you get into it, it just REALLY doesn't make sense. There was no reason whatsoever for that building to go down.

How many of you even remember that that building fell? I didn't.

On Dutch TV the other night, there was a documentary that refuted much of the claims asserted in Loose Change. Various scientists proved that the questions posed by the filmmaker were scientifically impossible... all except this one about building 7. Demolition experts looked at videos of it collapsing and said, without a doubt, that it was brought down in a controlled manner. In other words, explosives were detonated at the ground floor.

And what was in building 7? It housed offices of the CIA, FBI and Secret Service.

Bigger is Better

I have nothing entertaining to say today, but I did just get this website url from a co-worker.

Giant snacks... mmmmm....

http://www.pimpthatsnack.com/gallery.php

A Random Story from My Past

A few nights ago, over a lovely Italian dinner in a quaint little restaurant in Amsterdam, I told this story to a couple of friends. It gave them a chuckle, so I thought I'd share.

My parent's house -- the house I lived in from ages 14 to 18 -- is right next to a cornfield and all manner of creepy crawlies come out of that field, spy this inviting abode right in front of them, and think "Ahhh... what a lovely place. Come, Margaret, let's see if the natives are friendly." (In case you're curious, in my head, Margaret's husband is named Albert.)

The worst of these uninvited houseguests is a bug we've dubbed "thousand leggers." I have absolutely no idea what the real name of this insect is, but here's why they've gotten their nickname: imagine a centipede, but with a slightly skinnier, tan body. Then affix approximately a ba-jillion hair-like legs to that body and -- Voila! -- you have an insect that gives you an intense creepy feeling between your shoulderblades.

These shiver-inducing critters just LOVE my parent's house. They love the living room. They love the kitchen. They love the hallways and the entryway. But their favorite place to assert their squatter's rights is the bathroom. It's not too dark, not too light, not too dry and not too wet. Margaret and Albert think the bathroom is just right. (Though the thousand leggers soon learn that the natives are decidedly not friendly when they appear in my mother's bathtub. She performs her own version of Chinese water torture on those foolish enough to set up camp in her presence.)

The main bathroom in our house has a shower long enough to hang a towel at the end without it getting wet. That towel is known as the "hair towel." Take a wild guess what it's used for.

When I was a teenager, and favored taking 3-hour long showers, my habit was to shut the water off, blindly grab the hair towel, wrap it around my head and step out into the steam-filled bathroom. (To my parent's consternation, I never remembered to turn the fan on.)

One such day, I was beautifying myself post shower, my hair firmly wrapped in the hair towel, when I was constantly being annoyed by a couple of hairs tickling my ear. I didn't think anything of it, but it was bothersome enough for me to occasionally brush my hand against my cheek to remove the offending hairs.

Slather on some body lotion. Tickle tickle... brush at my ear.

File my nails. Tickle tickle... brush at my ear.

Paint my toenails. Tickle tickle... brush at my ear.

Finally, I reached a task in which the fogged-up mirror was needed. I grabbed a towel, wiped away the steam and there ON MY EAR was the mother of all thousand leggers. ON MY EAR. And it had been there, tickling me with it's hideous legs, for a really long time. Long enough that I should've named it Fluffy, given it a leash, and taught it to fetch.

I let out a blood-curdling scream and flung the towel off my head. It smacked against the door and seconds later my mother was at the door yelling "What's wrong!? What's wrong!? Did you fall!? Are you hurt!??"

To this day, some 17 years later, I am STILL traumatized over the "Thousand Legger Incident." When I shower at my parent's house, I gently grab the hair towel, hold it over the edge of the tub and shake it furiously. Then, with a compulsion that borders on OCD, I inspect both sides of it to make sure it's insect free and then, and ONLY THEN, does it go on my head. In fact, the "Thousand Legger Incident" was so traumatic to the Daley household that even my mother goes through the same ritual after her shower.

Angela Daley, International Superstar

Two hours ago, one of my co-workers said to me, "Hey... I'm watching a show (we all have TVs on our desks) about poisoning. Maybe it's the show you used to work on."

I went over to her desk and, sure enough, there was my old show, Diagnosis: Unknown, playing on her TV. It was nice to see something I'd worked on being broadcast so far away from where it was produced. It was sort of like a little bit of me had come to visit. (as odd as that sounds)

But the best part is that while we were watching, suddenly there I was, giving a, if I do say so myself, very solid and believable performance as a medical receptionist. My co-worker's head whipped around to look at me as she asked "That was you, wasn't it?!"

I feel like SUCH a celebrity.

An Excellent Way to Waste an Hour at Work

If I were a character from Southpark, I'd look like this:

Go to: http://www.sp-studio.de/