Honestly! Every. Single. Time.

After a while I get sort of tired of answering it, because HELLO! Yes it’s different! I went from one of the biggest, most spacious, sparsely populated countries on the planet to one of the smallest, most cramped and densely populated ones.  What do you think, genius?!

In the past I’ve shown a comparison of the different cities I’ve lived in, compared the difference in the level of insanity of Christmas shopping here and in Canada, and how much more Dutch kids can do with snow than we have ever managed or bothered to.

I don’t think I’ve ever done an honest to goodness comparison of my hometown to my current city though.  A visual representation of just how massively different my life is now compared to what it was for the other 2/3 of my life.  Maybe I have, this blog has been on the go for over 6 years and I can’t be bothered to search the archives, but I know I’ve never done the Google maps version. So here you have it!

Let’s see if you can see the difference.

First we’ll have a look at the shopping experience in my hometown compared to here in the city of Rotterdam.

This is the main street in my hometown of North Sydney, Nova Scotia.  Nice wide roads, ample parking, lots of space and very few people.  There is not really much public transit to speak of, except perhaps the odd bus, so you either have to walk or drive to get there.  There is not a lot of variety in regards to shopping, so most people from North Sydney will go to Sydney (25 mins drive) for their real shopping needs.  When I lived there I rarely ever visited this downtown area unless I wanted to rent a movie or visit my father at his barber shop.  I had no other reason to really…

Uh, except for that summer I spent working at the new Subway.  Longest summer of my life.

Now, downtown Rotterdam…

These are photos of your typical downtown shopping experience in Rotterdam, The Netherlands.  It’s pretty much the polar opposite of North Sydney.  People, LOTS and LOTS of people.

There are some wide streets and very narrow streets, but sometimes none at all.  The majority of the city center is not open to vehicles, which can be a blessing and a curse depending on how you prefer to get there.  It is easily accessible by bus, tram, metro, train, and bicycle so if you prefer to get there by those modes of transportation, you’d probably love the fact that you can walk along the shopping streets without constantly watching out for cars.

On the other hand, if you prefer to travel by car, going to the city center may be the bane of your existence in the Rotterdam.  There are many parking garages but they are not cheap and parking on the street can be hit or miss, literally!  You have to be very careful when opening car doors as you are likely to have your door blown off by a passing vehicle or knock someone off their bicycle.  That is, if you can find a spot on the street at all and if you do, you’ll probably pay more for that than if you had gone to a parking garage anyway.

One very good thing about the city center in Rotterdam is that the shopping is fantastic.  There aren’t many things you will need that you won’t be able to find here.  There are everything from small personal shops to large electronics stores, department stores and even a huge bookstore with an entire section of English books.  Not to mention a wide range of restaurants, clubs and theaters.

Some down sides are that everyone knows the shopping is great here and the city has a lot of people, so any given day is 10x more busy than at the busiest point during Christmas in my hometown.  Also, the shops are only open one evening a week, on Friday. The rest of the time they close at normal business closing times.  They do make up for this by being open every Sunday though!

While the downtown area of North Sydney is usually hurting quite badly, you could always go up to the Northside Mall and try your luck.

Plus sides?  A massive (and FREE, OMG!) parking lot, spacious shops and general mall area, the ability to shop without feeling like you are in a stampede, and air conditioning.  Sweet, blessed air conditioning!

Down sides are that it’s only accessible by foot or by car and personally, I’ve never had a lot of luck there in regards to shopping.  There are very few shops in the mall that seem to survive and there is a lot of turnover.  Again, not a lot of variety which usually lead to me going to another mall in another town instead.

On my last visit home there was only one store in the entire mall that made it worth the visit, an adorable shop full of home deco called Granny’s Country Cottage. I would link to their website, but apparently they don’t have one.  All I know is that I have no idea how I’m going to visit that shop again with my measly one suitcase limit from Air Canada.  I could spend a FORTUNE in that shop!  Besides Granny’s, there is a large supermarket chain (Sobey’s), a dollar store (or at least there was last time I was there), a department store (Zellers) and well, other than that I have no freaking idea.  I just remember walking through the mall and feeling like I was in a ghost town.

Perhaps that had more to do with me having adjusted to the insanity of the malls in Rotterdam than the malls back home really being empty though.

Speaking of malls in Rotterdam…

There are a few, but this is the closest shopping mall to where I live.  Zuidplein Winkelcentrum is about a 5 minute drive from my house, if that.  Again, like the city center, it will meet most if not all of your shopping needs with a decent sized supermarket, department stores, restaurants and pretty much everything else you’d be looking for.  From the outside you’d probably hardly recognize it as a mall but from the inside there is quite a lot to be found.

When I first moved here I lived in another area not too far from Zuidplein and I couldn’t stand visiting this mall. It was always very dark, dated, warm and crowded. I would go there only if I absolutely had to.  Thankfully they’ve put a lot of work into it over the years, raising the ceilings and trying to give it a bit more of a spacious and airy feeling.

One major plus point besides the variety is it’s accessibility.  There is a metro station inside the mall, as well as a bus terminal below it.

Like the city center, major down side is the CROWDS and parking situation.  There is a paid indoor and street parking and it doesn’t matter if you visit the malls here at 9:30 am on a Tuesday morning, you’ll spend your entire time dodging and weaving people, ignoring their screaming children and waiting in line at the registers.

Another down side is the lack of air conditioning.  Perhaps they have it in the malls here, but if they do, they aren’t using it.  When you walk into shopping centers in the dead heat of summer, it’s like walking into someone else’s mouth.  It’s warm, humid, stuffy and it smells like… people.  People who have never walked into any of the pharmacies and bought themselves a stick of deodorant.  There are exceptions to this rule, some shops have air conditioning, but they are few and far between and when you do find them you dread the thought of stepping out of them and into the mall again.

This is what it looks like to drive along the waterfront of North Sydney.

This is what it looks like to drive along the waterfront in Rotterdam.

I don’t think it really requires a lot of explanation. Like everything else there are pros and cons for both.  The waterfront in my hometown is beautiful, peaceful and whenever I am there it warms the cockles of my heart.

The waterfront in Rotterdam is bustling, there are boats coming and going at all times, there are a lot of cars, tourists, people on bicycles, people walking, sounds, buildings, things to do and… well, just a lot of all kinds of everything at once.

Sometimes when I’m here in Rotterdam I long to be able to go down and sit at a park by the water in my hometown… but when I was a teenager I sat there dreaming about how I’d one day get out of there and see the world.  Life can be funny like that.

This is the highway I drove a thousand times over the years.  I have driven it to collge, to work, to movies, to the beach, out with friends and to visit boyfriends.  My father taught me how to drive on this highway.  I was pulled over for speeding on this highway.  I spun out and nearly killed myself one winter on this highway.

I have driven alone with the windows down, the wind in my hair and my heart full while singing on this highway.

I felt free on this highway…. but this highway has only ever taken me to the same places I’ve been a million times before.

This is part of the highway here in Rotterdam.

Big, busy, confusing, fast…  I have driven on this highway, but not in 10 years.  I can’t drive on this highway because my Canadian drivers license couldn’t be transferred to the Netherlands.  In order for me to drive here we need to spend hundreds, possibly a thousand euro on driving lessons and tests.  So I am now just a passenger.

I have never been alone on this highway.  I sit in the passenger seat while friends drive on this highway.  I look out the window while Xander drives me places on this highway.

I never have my windows down and rarely sing on this highway.

I feel trapped, insecure, and depressed on this highway… but this highway has taken me to places I never imagined I’d ever see.

This photo did not come from Google maps, because North Sydney is so small and apparently (according to Google) insignificant that they never bothered to do street view for anything other than the main streets.  I took this photo in 2007 from the back steps of my parents’ house.  It’s the view from the first home I’ve ever known.

I played in that grass, I learned to ride my bicycle on that street, I played with my friends and trick or treated at those houses. I took photos here before my high school prom.  I would pull into that driveway after work, an evening with my boyfriend, a night out at the clubs with my girlfriends or a day at the beach.

This is the only home I’d known for the first 21 years of my life.

This was the first home I’ve ever known in the Netherlands.

I spent a lot of time between those walls.  I felt lost and confused, I was depressed,  I missed my family and miss the green spaces of home.  I didn’t understand anything going on around me and I knew only one person in the entire country.  There were no girlfriends, there was no family, no days at the beach.

My world was turned upside down and inside out.  It was a puzzle that I just couldn’t seem to solve.

I left that house a year later to move into our current home. Now, after 11 years of ups and downs, I do understand what is going on around me, there are girlfriends, there’s family and there are days at the beach.

Sometimes my life still feels like a puzzle, but I’ve found most of the pieces already.  I know that one day I will see the full picture again.

So, do I find it different here in Rotterdam after growing up in Canada?  Of course I do.

Which do I like better?  Neither.

I love my hometown for it’s beauty, simplicity and space.  For the kindness and the welcoming nature of the people and because it’s where I grew up.  It’s where my family is.  It’s where I can be with my people, my language and my culture.  I will always love North Sydney and Cape Breton Island because they hold 21 years worth of memories that I could never have had anywhere else.

I love The Netherlands because it’s forced me to break out of my bubble and see the world through different eyes.  To learn another language and culture, to see more of the world and visit countries I never even dreamed I’d see in my lifetime.  I love it because it’s given me 11 years of new experiences, memories, family and friends.  Most of all,  the chance to grow and broaden my horizons.

They are both my home, but also not… Like many others, I am floating in an uncomfortable Expat Limbo where I have two homes, but no real home at all.

When I go to Canada, North Sydney is as foreign to me now as the Netherlands.  So much has changed, *I* have changed.  I am still Canadian, but I am also Dutch.  I am no longer that small town girl, but I am not truly a city girl either.

So please, next time you meet an expat or someone who is new to your city or country, ask them what they like to do in their spare time, ask about their hobbies, their famlies, if they’ve seen a good movie lately or if they have any holiday plans for the summer… because if you ask us to compare where we’ve come from to where we are, we will never be able to give you a straight answer, because we often simply don’t know ourselves.

Related posts:

1. The Cities of My Life
2. A Day in Roosendaal
3. Expat Life: Creating Your Own Traditions

So, here goes…

I’m hoping that when the weather clears up that my friends and I will be able to reschedule our plans to visit Burgers’ Zoo in Arnhem, as we had to cancel our plans to go a few weeks ago due to the weather.  I’m really quite keen to visit more of the other zoos in the Netherlands though, I love Blijdorp but I’m getting the been there, done that feeling about it now.

Oh, wait I almost forgot.  I have more photos to show you.  They are gross but funny at the same time, and you know I can never stop myself from sharing gross and disgusting stuff!

I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it any longer, please don’t look… oh god I’m so embarrassed! A little privacy please?!

Aw man, why is there never any toilet paper in this joint??

I didn’t even realize (s)he was doing this until I got home and was editing the photos. I thought I just caught him/her walking away.  I laughed my ass off when I saw what was actually going on, and I just had to share.

You’re welcome.

Related posts:

1. Diergaarde Blijdorp v2
2. Diergaarde Blijdorp
3. First Beach Attempt 2010

Isn’t it pretty?

My preciouuuuusssss…

I love that I can lay in bed and read, and if I’m still awake and reading an hour later I can check my email and maybe throw out a few messages on Twitter before I go to sleep.

I love that when I’m going somewhere I can use it as my mp3 player to listen to music or as a GPS if I need directions.

I love that if I’m out and see something interesting or funny, but don’t have my cameras with me, I can use it as my camera.  I can even quickly pop the photo up on Facebook and share it with my friends if I want to.

I love that if I go to the doctor and need to make a new appointment, or am out with friends and am making plans, I can open my Google calendar and have my agenda at my fingertips.

I love that when I do enter the appointments that my phone automatically syncs with Google so when I get home all the appointments I’ve made are already automatically added to my agenda when I look at it on my laptop.

I love so many things about this phone that I won’t bore you by continuing this list…

There is one thing I don’t love though, in fact I hate it with the fire of a thousand suns.

This POS headset that comes along with it.

If there is one complaint I would ever have about HTC it’s that they are yet to really put thought into what consumers are looking for in a headset nowadays.  Does anyone even buy this type of headphone anymore?  I absolutely despise them because the sound is terrible, they don’t fit in my ears properly, the foamy little covers always get all manky no matter how much you clean your ears.. ugh.  HATE.

This lead me to a rather frustrated search for a replacement which wasn’t a very easy task as I was quite fussy about what I wanted.

It had to have a remote that allowed me to control my music which included skipping back and forth between tracks and volume control while also having the ability to answer calls.  It’s more difficult to find than you think!

Then I found this baby… the Jabra BT3030 Bluetooth Headset.

I was a little unsure at first because I’ve never used bluetooth for anything other than transferring things between my laptop and my phone, but I loved the idea of not having to deal with cords connecting my earphones to the phone.  Many times I’ve dropped my bag just to have my earplugs wrenched painfully from my ears after forgetting I was attached to the phone!

This remote can either hang around your neck dog tag style or clip onto your clothes using the clip on the back.  The earphones are corded to that, but that’s not really a nuisance at all as I wear it around my neck and the cord doesn’t get in the way of anything.  I can walk around with my phone in my bag while controlling music and phone calls with the remote hanging around my neck.  I can also sit my phone on a table in my house and wear the headset around while I do housework or cook.  It’s fantastic!

If you don’t like the dog tag style thing that goes around your neck it is also easily removed and can be replaced with a lanyard or something else of your choice.  I quite like it though.

I worried about it draining the battery on my phone, which has not been an issue. I don’t notice the battery going down any quicker than it did any other time.  Also the battery in the remote seems to last quite a long time.  There are different sequences of button presses for different things you want to do, and to check the battery you press the volume + or – button which causes the “Jabra” on the bottom to flash either green, yellow or red to show the battery level.  I’ve used it for a number of hours already and it’s still green.

Also, as you can see on the photo to the left, it’s backlit. So if you are using it at night, listening to music in bed or in a generally badly lit area, you can still see the buttons.  It doesn’t stay lit, so you aren’t walking around looking like a tool.  It just stays on for a few seconds while you do what you need to do.

So if you, like me, have an HTC phone or other mobile and are having trouble finding a headset for all your needs, you really should check this out.  I recommend it wholeheartedly.

If you want more technical details you’ll need to click one of the links.  That’s really not my bag, sorry.

Related posts:

1. RTFM
2. XBox vs Playstation vs Wii
3. Gmail Updater

I’m really not so sure about this one, not sure at all.

It’s Debbie Reynolds. Debbie Freakin Reynolds. Debbie annoying mom to Grace Adler on Will and Grace Reynolds.  As Grandma Mazur? OUR endearing, old, batshit crazy grandma. Can she do it?

I don’t know.

I suppose I should be more supportive of her, seeing as one of the reasons I got my name was that my mother loved her Tammy Movies, but I can’t.  I can’t help but question her in this role and even our name connection can’t keep me on her side.

Let’s have a look at what Grandma Mazur is meant to be.

From Wikipedia:

Grandma Mazur is Stephanie’s maternal grandmother. In Two For The Dough her real name is Edna. She lives in Stephanie’s parents’ house ever since her husband died of heart failure. In Lean Mean Thirteen Grandma Mazur uses his real name: Harry.

She is a woman unwilling to grow old, ever. Stephanie relates to Grandma Mazur more than any other member of her family. Beginning in Two For the Dough, Grandma Mazur begins to tag along on cases with Stephanie, often pulling a gun out of her purse at inappropriate moments. Grandma Mazur also frequents the local funeral parlors because they are the social center of the neighborhood. She sometimes peeks underneath the casket lid to see the dead body, causing hysteria in the parlor.

Grandma Mazur is also the official owner of Big Blue, a ’53 powder blue Buick that men love and women hate. The car is virtually indestructible, and Grandma Mazur got it from Stephanie’s Uncle Sandor. She moved in with Stephanie for a short periods of time during “Hot Six”. She also occasionally watches pay-per-view porn, on account that “The Weather Channel doesn’t have enough action”.

Ok, if you read that and have never read the books I suppose you’d think that Debbie Reynolds would be just as capable of playing this role as anyone.  If you have read the books though, I’m sure you’ll be with me on this one.  Grandma Mazur is old.  Like OLDER THAN DIRT kind of old.  The mental image you are given of her is that she is small and somewhat frail physically, a tiny little wrinkled crazy woman.

Debbie Reynolds is getting up there, sure,  but she’s not that kind of old yet, and she just doesn’t have it.  I don’t know what IT is but it’s that thing that makes you think OMG, She would be the perfect Grandma Mazur!

Sort of like you’d have with this lady…

Now that is a crazy ol’ grandma!  She was quite possibly the only good thing about that show.

Let’s not forget my first choice…

Rappin’ Granny in the hizzouuuuuse!!  I always thought Ellen Albertini Dow would make a great Grandma Mazur.

I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.  They can do a lot with makeup nowadays and she is a good actress.  Perhaps with the right clothes, the right script, the right acting and the right director she just might be able to make us believe she is Grandma Mazur.

That’s a lot of things to have to get right though and they do, because I’m not convinced she is right.

The casting is starting to worry me a bit.  I don’t think they made the right choice for Morelli and now this… I’m happy with the rest of the cast but these are important roles that if not done properly could ruin the movies for a lot of people who truly love the books.

What do you think?  When you heard about the movie and imagined who would be cast as Grandma Mazur, how far down your mental list was she?

All I know is, she wasn’t even ON mine.

Related posts:

1. Vinnie and Lula Cast in One For The Money (Stephanie Plum Movie)
2. Ranger and Morelli Cast For Stephanie Plum Movie
3. My Stephanie Plum Movie Castings

At that time there were a lot of discussions in regards to whether they were going to cut the tree down because it was weak and in danger of falling over.  It never was torn down though, and to be honest I haven’t thought about it a whole lot since.  Until today.

I just visited the blog of my friend DutchBitch and learned the terrible news that not only were my veggie plants the victim of the fierce winds of late, but also Anne’s beloved Chestnut tree.  It just fell right over.

This makes me sad.

The Anne Frank house is such an important part of the history of Amsterdam. Of this country even.  Day after day, year after year, people come from all over the world just to step behind that bookcase and spend a few moments in the same space that Anne Frank once inhabited.

We all have a moment while we are there, where we step outside of ourselves and try to imagine even just for a second what it was like for her.  We probably never come even close, how can we understand the loneliness and fear that she was experiencing at that time?  There wasn’t a lot there that was truly original after all these years, but the tree was.  It may have been bigger, but it was the same tree.

Now it will be gone.  From now on when people visit the Anne Frank House and look out her bedroom window, what will they see?

I suppose to some it probably sounds silly.  They will think It’s just a tree!, but no… it’s not just a tree. At least not to anyone who has read the book or stood in that room and seen it with their own eyes.

While looking for information after reading DB’s article, I did see something interesting.  Apparently eleven saplings have been taken from the tree and were brought to the United States for planting.

Wait? … What?

Eleven saplings have been taken from the tree in Amsterdam and have been taken to the United States to be planted?

OI, Americans… get your filthy mitts off our tree babies!  Who do we call about tree abduction??

Ok, that lady’s parents’ families were killed in the Holocaust, she can have a tree… but why do they get the other 10?  Seriously, why is at least one of them not staying in Amsterdam, or perhaps the other neighbouring countries that are more closely tied to this bit of history.

HELL, Canada played a major role in saving their butts, why aren’t my peeps getting a tree?  This is a travesty!

WAIT, crisis averted! I found another article. Give me a moment to cool my jets here…

According to this other article there are 150 saplings in Amsterdamse Bos Park.

They’re forgiven.

So there weren’t only 11 saplings, there were tons and they are all over the place.  It turns out that Anne’s tree really isn’t just a tree, it’s like the Octomom of trees!

Related posts:

1. Just a Tree?
2. Shoe Tree
3. Policewoman Shot Dead

Would you please stop eating with your mouth open, it’s rude!

Honestly, you are three years old now, it’s about time you learned some table manners!

Don’t give me that look… and for pity sake, wipe your mouth!

Related posts:

1. Sherman the… Pig?
2. Digg.com?
3. Sherman the Tank

Let me go back and tell a little more about what was going on… You may want to grab a snack, this is going to be a long one!

A week or so ago I was sitting in my house, knitting and minding my own business, when I heard splashing noises.  They didn’t seem like normal house sounds so I got up to check it out, only to find the most foul brown water blasting up through the drain in my kitchen sink.  It was coming in so fast, also through the overflow opening. I panicked!

I called Xander at work and was all like OMG It’s going to overflow what do I DO!?! then he was all like BAIL!!! BAIL LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT, I’M COMING HOME!!

So, bail I did.  I grabbed a bowl and managed to get some water out just before the sink overflowed.  Then I proceeded to run my ass off between our kitchen sink and toilet to keep the water level down.

When he arrived home from work I was still bailing like there was no tomorrow.  The stench in the house was indescribable and he went upstairs to tell our neighbours to stop using water until we can get a plumber over.

Ok, I have to stop now and tell you a little about our lovely neighbours.  NOT SO LOVELY!

Remember our previous neighbours who left all the garbage downstairs and gave us rats and mice? Yeah the same one who came to our door to threaten us and kept using our phone.  Well, we finally got rid of them, and were so looking forward to having nice, normal neighbours upstairs for once.

We’re still waiting.

The dude who bought the flat is young, can’t be older than about 25, and he’s nice enough but a total slumlord.  The first tenants he put in were Mongolians, and they were quiet as mice.  The only problem is they multiplied like mice too.  It seemed like every time we went out the door there were different Mongolians coming and going, we never saw the same ones twice.  We still didn’t have a problem, until winter came and we were having issues with the radiator in our dining room. There are two flats below us and one above us, and all four of us are connected to the same heating pipe.  Xander de-aired ours and the ones below us but in order for the heat to work properly it needed to be de-aired at the very top.  This is where the problems started.

They would NOT open the door!  Even though we could hear them in there, no matter how long or how hard we banged on the door they would not open it.  This got to be extremely frustrating because we had no contact number for the guy who actually owns the flat and the VVE (homeowners association) wasn’t proving to be much help.

No lie, it took us almost 5 WEEKS to get into that flat to fix the heating!!  By that time our downstairs neighbour was pretty much ready to take an axe to their door, as she had no heating in her 3 year old’s bedroom and had to put an electric heater in there to keep him warm at night.

When Xander was finally let in, he saw that the flat was full of mattresses.  We had an entire colony of Mongolians living upstairs and they’d turned the place into a complete dump.  When we went to our next VVE meeting there was a lot of talk amongst the other owners in regards to the legality of the people who were living there and whether to phone the police and turn them in for having too many people living in the flat.  This is a major problem in Rotterdam at the moment, mostly with Polish workers who have come here.  Thankfully it soon became a non-issue as one day they were just… gone.  The landlord was in the flat fixing it up and once again we had hope that we’d have new, nicer neighbours.

WRONG.  More fucking Mongolians. I don’t know what it is with this guy and the Mongolians, but there was a collective groan throughout the building when we all realized that he had rented to them again.  It wasn’t the same ones though, and it appeared to just be a couple, so maybe they’d be better.

Now, let’s go back to day of the disgusting water.  There is massive blobs of rotten food coming up through our sink and I was up to my elbows in it.  I appear to have a stronger stomach than I ever thought because I still don’t know how I didn’t vomit during the entire thing.  Just when I’d get the water level down, it would all come rushing in again.  Cold water, hot water, all full of slimy grossness.  I couldn’t believe that there was so much food, and I knew it wasn’t coming from us.  We have a strainer on our sink that catches any bits before it goes down the drain, and we’d never had any problem in the years we’ve been living here.  There was no way it was a coincidence that these problems started just a matter of weeks after the Mongolians moved in.

Xander went upstairs to tell the Mongolians to stop using water and SURPRISE!!! They wouldn’t open the door!!  If I wasn’t so busy bailing all their crud out of my sink I would have been up and over those stairs in two seconds flat, I was THAT angry.

You have to imagine this scene, Xander is upstairs banging on the door telling them he can hear them in there, I’m legging it for all I’m worth between the kitchen and bathroom, slipping and sliding on the tile floors because they are wet and slippery from drippage, and I am screaming like a wild banshee for him to come and help me.

That’s when he nearly banged the door down, literally, like he nearly rocked that fucker right off it’s hinges.  MY MAN!  If I wasn’t up to my armpits in rancid water I’d have been really turned on.

Anyway, they finally opened up and were mighty pissy with him, because you know it’s totally rude of us to expect them to open their door?  Of course, like the others before them they spoke neither Dutch nor English, so after some loud, slow talking and hand signals he got the point across to them that they need to stop using water.

Oh, but wait!! They do speak English after all!!  Their response?  NOT MY PROBLEM!

Not your problem?  NOT YOUR PROBLEM!!  I will make it your problem you …. well, I won’t tell you the rest of what I said when he came down and told me their response.  If you know me you know that it involved a lot of swearing and big talk about all the ways I’d cause her pain.  I was so. pissed. off.

Xander then called the VVE, who actually were helpful this time around. They called a plumber who said they would be here before 5pm.  So we bailed and waited.  They apparently also contacted the Mongolians landlord, as he phoned us a few hours later and gave us his contact info so we could get in touch with him if we need him.

The plumber came, did their plumber thing and all seemed to be ok.

Side note, the plumber came with dried mud all over his shoes and when he was done working he asked for our vacuum and some cloths, and then cleaned the kitchen before he left.  WTF?!  Not only that but he was so incredibly friendly, chatty and pleasant…

I know, bizarre right?  I actually had to run to look out the window just to make sure I was still in the Netherlands.

Anyway, sweet relief.  The water stopped coming up our sink, our kitchen was cleaner than it was before the whole ordeal and life went back to normal.

That is, until Friday night.

This might be a good time to have a pee break if you need one, I’m really just about to get started.

I had plans with a friend to go into town and hang out, when I got home it was almost 11pm and when I walked in the door I felt a splash.  My first thought was that one of the dogs had peed on the floor, but when I turned on the lights a whole other nightmare opened up to me.  My flat was flooded.

WHY?  Why couldn’t it have just been dog pee?!!!

Xander was away for the weekend, I was all alone, it was the middle of the night and my flat was flooded.  Friday the 13th indeed!!

I didn’t even know where to start.  I had left the dishes from dinner on the countertop because I was in a rush to get to town before 6:30pm.  The dishwasher was still full with the clean dishes from the night before.  The kitchen, hallway and spare room were all flooded, the smell was horrendous and I knew I didn’t have enough towels in the house to take care of this job.  I also didn’t have a mop because I use a swiffer and a steam machine, neither of which would do me any good with this.

I wanted to sit down and cry, but it was late, the dogs still needed to be walked and I had to get down to business.  Right after I called Xander and freaked out.

As I got to work sopping up the water, Xander was on the other side of the country calling the VVE emergency number and the landlord upstairs.  The landlord did answer and say he’d come over but the VVE number? VOICE MAIL!  An emergency number and we get voice mail.  Give me strength…

This is the only photo I managed to take over the whole ordeal, from the first time the water appeared.  This is what was left in our dishwasher after I bailed the water out of the sink.  It’s actually quite clear and free of crud, compared to what was in the sink earlier.  Still disgusting though…

All my drawers were full of water, everything in them had been stewing in it, the dishwasher had flooded, and I didn’t dare open the washer.  It was an absolute nightmare. I got the sink empty and somehow managed to get all of the water up off the floor by about 1am. All I could do was put the stuff from the drawers in bags and put them on the balcony to be dealt with later.  In the meantime the landlord from upstairs showed up and went to visit the neighbours, telling them not to use water.  He then came down and helped me get the baseboards out from under the cupboards so I could get the water out from under there.

Of course, the Mongolians, in a quest to consistently be complete assholes, did not stop using their water.  So I spent the entire night completely tense and running to the kitchen to bail the water before it managed to flood us again.  The – ENTIRE – night.  Do Mongolians never sleep?!  I’m sure those mofos stayed up just to purposely use water to piss me off.  If it weren’t for my other lovely neighbours trying to sleep, I’d have brought the roof down in this place.

By the time Xander arrived home the next morning, I was a frazzled, angry mess.

When he arrived the kitchen was pretty much clean, but the water was still coming up.  This time though?  It wasn’t food, it was SHIT.  When they flushed the toilet upstairs it came up into our kitchen sink, toilet paper and all.  I have never been so disgusted in my life, but still had no choice but to get in there and bail it out.

Xander, again, phoned the landlord to come over and tell them to not use ANY water. Not the sink, not the toilet, nothing.  True to his word, he came and stayed there until the plumber arrived at about 10:30am.  I recall yelling something from the sidelines about if she has a problem with it she’s free to come scoop her own shit out of my sink.

When the plumbers arrived it was the same guy as the last time, I had to stop myself from running at him movie style and leaping into his arms, I was THAT happy to see him.  When I told his co-worker, who came in before him, that we were getting their toilet water into our sink, he said that wasn’t possible.  It wasn’t until they were both there and asked the upstairs landlord to go up and flush the toilet that they saw it with their own eyes and finally believed me.

They were also shocked and disgusted.  According to them, plumbing is not supposed to be done that way and it may even be illegal now.  This is an older building though, and nothing surprises me with it anymore.

They went up to the roof, did their plumber thing and now we have pipes that drain faster than I have ever seen them.

I’m still nervous to leave the house though, and I’m due to meet another friend in town in three hours.  I’m afraid.  If I come home and find more flooding, please visit me in prison.

Anyway, after the plumbers left Xander went to the supermarket and bought some really strong bleach, and washed the kitchen down with it.  Thank god I have a man who is willing to help out around the house because I didn’t have anything left in me to give to that kitchen right then.  He also started cutting the carpet out of the spare room, as there was no salvaging it after what it had been through.  We planned on taking it up anyway so this just gives us the incentive to finally renovate that room like we planned.

By this time I was so drained, I think I just sat and cried for a minute.  When Xander was done cleaning up we both crawled into bed and had a much needed nap.  As I went to sleep I tried not to think of all the laundry and other things that needed to be done when we got up.

Also, just to make an already crappy situation worse, when we got up and tried to run the dishwasher to clean it out, it wouldn’t work.  We were stuck having to wash everything by hand, which really sucks.  All of my Tupperware is still in a garbage bag waiting for the dishwasher to be fixed.  I honestly just can’t be arsed.  I also just found out that it will cost anywhere from 100-225 euro to have someone come look at it.

So that was my Friday the 13th weekend.  I will never underestimate it’s powers again. Not ever.

There is a silver lining to this story though, the landlord upstairs said that the Mongolians were so pissed off they said they are leaving this week. The poor darling, my heart bleeds for them, really.  He also that he is done with the flat and when they are gone, he’s selling it.  HALLEE-FUCKING-YUYA!

Who will our next neighbours be, I wonder.  Will we finally get the upstairs neighbours we’ve been dreaming of, or is that flat really just doomed to always be filled with psychos and assholes?

Time will tell I guess… but if Mongolians buy it, I’m torching the place.

Related posts:

1. Laughter
2. *Yawn*
3. First Time Owners

This is my husband. Do you see the smile on his face?  Well, I can’t take credit for that one.  Jenny made a leg of lamb and he went into total Neanderthal mode.  He picked that piece of meat up and gnawed on it like his life depended on it.

It gave me hope that this might mean that one day he’d stop eating ribs and wings with a knife and fork.   I was so proud…

Wait a minute….

See that look?  That look says, Why don’t you ever make leg of lamb, Tammy?!  This shit is delicious!

Man, I really need to step up my game.  Either that or just never let him go back to France again, but then that means I can’t go either… and I’ll be damned if I don’t love her cooking too.

I guess I have no choice, I’ve put it off as long as I could… it’s time for me to become the domestic goddess my man deserves!

Um, except for the kitty litter, he can still do that.  Oh, and taking out the garbage.  He may as well vacuum too, since he is the one who keeps wearing his shoes in the house.  I have sensitive skin so he should probably also wash the dishes that can’t go in the dishwasher.

What??  I said he’d get the leg of lamb.  Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know.

Related posts:

1. Off With Their Shoes!!

One morning during our holiday I got out my camera and went for a walk around the property to take some photos.  While up in the orchard I noticed some wasps buzzing around one of the trees.

Man, do those wasps love them some cherries!

This little dude was far too into what he was doing to care about me taking his photo, and I must say I’m quite pleased with myself that I got so up close and personal.  I’m really not one for bugs, spiders, flies or any type of creepy crawly, which was a challenge because my in-laws live in the wilderness, with NATURE… and nature is dirty and scary.

By nature I mean every bug imaginable, more flies than you could ever imagine in one place and creepy looking shiny eyes staring out of the woods at you at night.

Ok, the eye thing is an exaggeration.  There were no eyes, there was a label on a far away tree that when a flashlight was shined on just looked like eyes.

Still, that was enough for me.  Just the possibility of some creature sitting in the edge of the forest watching me.  My imagination went wild and suddenly a plastic strip on a tree turned into an entire forest of creatures ganging up to take us out. Lead by the biggest, meanest wild boar mankind has ever seen.

I won’t even go into how much the random flash of the motion detecting spotlights made me want to run for cover.

Maybe I really am a city girl at heart.

Related posts:

1. Au Revoir, Suckas!
2. I’m in an Instance!
3. Not Just A Tree

Jenny suggested that we go visit La Couvertoirade, which I’ve never heard of but everyone else at the table agreed, so we agreed to get up the early the next morning and set off before it got too hot out.  I charged my camera batteries and was ready to go!

A little info about La Couvertoirade, in case you are like me and had never heard of it.

From Wikipedia:

La Couvertoirade is located on the Larzac plateau.

This well-preserved fortified town was owned by the Knights Templar, under orders from the Commandery of Sainte-Eulalie, from the twelfth century. The Templars built the fortress there during the 12th and 13th centuries; its two upper floors have since been removed. Following their dissolution in 1312, the Templars’ property in the causses was taken by the Knights of St John of Jerusalem who were responsible for building the curtain wall at La Couvertoirade between 1439 and 1450.

Like other Larzac villages, the population fell rapidly in the 19th century, to as few as 362 by 1880. Today, it is largely inhabited by craftsmen working with enamel, pottery, weaving and similar crafts.

Here is a scan of one of the postcards I bought, wrote and never did get around to sending.  I know, I’m a slacker… but at least now I have something to show the village from this angle!

As you can see it’s not very big, but it’s very nice and there are a lot of cool shops in there with different crafts and foods.  We got there at about 9am and it turned out that none of the shops were opening until 10am.  It was quite good though because it was already very hot and we got to walk around while the village was practically empty so I could take photos without a lot of people in the way.

Prepare yourself… you know I have very little control over myself when it comes to limiting the amount of photos I add.  I try, I really do, but I fail.  Let’s all just try to live with it.  If you have trouble loading it, get a new computer… you’ll thank me for it later!

Once everything opened up we decided to go into the tourist office in the village, where a young girl came up to us offering us loads of info about La Couvertoirade and the surrounding area of Aveyron.  She asked if we wanted to walk along the ramparts of the village, and there was no way I could say no.  I knew that going up there would give a great view of the village itself plus the valley all around it.

Before you go up to the ramparts you go into a little room where they show a movie about the history of the village with the Knights Templar and how it was restored afterward.  There is a small museum room as well before you go up onto the walls.

It was so nice in cool inside the stone buildings, I was tempted to hang around in there a while longer just to escape the heat, which was already stifling at only 10am!  I wanted to see the village from above though, and the walk along the walls really didn’t disappoint.

When I got up there I thought to myself how thankful I was to have shaved a few inches off my hips before our holiday, because some of the walkways were quite narrow!

Other parts had only a small metal rail, not sure I would be comfortable taking children up there.  Although, depending on how the kid was behaving, it might be worth the risk for these views.

After we came down off the ramparts we shopped around a little.  We didn’t buy much as it was quite expensive and aimed at us tourists.

We stopped at a little ice cream shop and sat in the shade to cool off. It was coming along lunch time and it was hotter than a… hot thing.  We were both absolutely cooking and couldn’t wait to get back to the house so we could jump in the pool and cool off.

On the way out I came across small workshop with a man doing some wood carvings.  I had to stop and have a look!

When he saw us looking in I asked him if he’d mind if I took some photos of him and he said go ahead.  I was sort of surprised as most people don’t really like getting their photos taken.  Also, almost every shop in the entire village had signs up saying that you were not allowed to take photos.  I found this so strange in a place that is made for tourists, but what can you do?  I assume they are worried that someone, somewhere, will copy their crafts?  I don’t know.

Anyhow, he was very cool about it and just kept on working and let me do my thing.

We really liked the carving in the middle of the man smoking, and thought it would make a great gift for my father in law, until we asked how much it was and he told us 300 euro.  We settled for taking a photo of it for him instead!

I loved this village and am so glad Jenny recommended it to us.  I had such a good time walking around, looking at the crafts and taking photos.  I was in heaven!

I’m not sure Xander felt the same though, having already been there a number of times in the past it was nothing he hasn’t seen before.  Even though he was warm and bored, he kept a smile on his face and let me take my time exploring the village.  He even offered to be my pack mule and carried my camera bag around for me all morning.

Isn’t he just the greatest?  I mean, I may be a little biased, but I’m pretty sure he’s the best husband that ever lived.  He’s the best one I’ve ever had anyway!

I know it’s hard to believe, but there actually are more photos than what I’ve shown here.  You can see them here on Flickr.

Related posts:

1. Lock of Love Rotterdam
2. Sailing in Friesland
3. Saturday Photo Hunt – Fresh