Excuse Me While I Bitch And Moan

I have been thinking about this ever since I moved here and have not been able to find a satisfactory answer to the fundamental question:
Why? Why in the name of all that's holy can a country that gets an exorbitant amount of precipitation (see old entry for evidence) not devise a decent drainage system? Why?

Let me explain: I bike to and from work; around 8 miles each way. Almost all the way on awesome bike paths and I love my commute. Thank you, Dutch tax payers. Really.
But: From September through April, there are basically puddles everywhere. Sometimes they stretch all the way across the bike path and stay there for days. Even if it hasn't rained in a while. How does this happen?

I guess I feel a little bit like Homer, when he got frustrated with academics and brainiacs:

Uuuh, a graduate student, huh? How come you guys can go to the moon but can't make my shoes smell good?

I mean, really. The Dutch came up with this (admittedly pretty awesome) dam-system: Deltaworks.
Look, cool stormbarrier:

And I have to ride through this:

That's just not right.

The Woods Were Lovely, I Was Weak

Now I Have Promises To Keep.

Grr. Promises to my 13-year-old self.
[Oh, my apologies to Robert Frost.]
-----
I was a little ticked off yesterday:
Unbeknownst to me, I have turned into a grade-A-pussy.

No, not really. It's all good.
I did surprise myself though, and not in a good way.

See, I've always considered myself a bit of a tomboy, a girl who can keep up with the boys, play in the dirt (and dirty) and do anything a man can do. Maybe even better. Haha.

Well, long story short, I usually feel a bit dare-devilish on the bike. Flying down hills at (relatively) high speeds, leaning into curves, mountain-biking in the woods and such.

Took one of Dad's mountain bikes out for a spin yesterday and holy shit, I got a little scared! I braked a lot, went surprisingly slow down the slopes and was actually glad when I found an asphalt road.

I wasn't happy. What happened? When did I turn into an old lady? Is the Dutch flatness to blame, where a 100m long slightly sloped stretch of land is considered a major elevation? Is it old age?

Whatever it is, this trend better be reversed or at least stalled for a while...I'll make it my mission to get some of the youthful tomboyishness back while I'm on vacation.
Maybe I can even get a bruise as a badge of honor. For old time's sake. Just a small and non-dangerous one of course...

The 13-year-old who crashed her bike during a mad race-as-fast-possible-through-those-deep-puddles contest is still in there somewhere. She has to be.

Some pictures taken during the ride:

The tame trails.

12% slope. Fun going down, not as much fun going up. I can't believe how much even these easy things hurt after only biking in flat surroundings for so long.

Famous monument close to my parents' place. Built in 1815 by Ludwig I, King of Bavaria, to commemorate the war against Napoleon and to just brag about our general awesomeness.

OK, Here's Cold Hard Evidence

March 25 and this is what this place looks like. Sheesh.
Where is spring? Huh? Where?

On the bright side, I think the sun is coming out...

Too Much Stuff

Somebody from work forwarded me this link: Story of Stuff


It's a 20-minute-movie about how 'stuff' is produced, used, and discarded in Western society. The clip is well-made and raises some interesting issues.

It got me thinking about how so many people are driven to own more and more stuff. Working towards the next promotion to earn more money, to buy more things, to drive a bigger car, to own a bigger house, to live a better life...
Well, a bigger life. A life with more stuff to show for your success.

This issue seemed overstated and exaggerated in the clip at first. After some more pondering and review of my life so far, I don't think it is.

Really, there are always more things we think we need. Clothes, electronics, books, cars, etc. It never freaking ends.
And does this stuff make your life better? In any way, shape or form?

Well, and it's bothered me for a while that "hanging at the mall"/going shopping seems to be a worthwhile free-time activity...Seriously? Just as nuts as making a trip to IKEA and their cheap food-court a family outing. Bah.

Back to the accumulation of stuff:
I've long felt bogged down by all the stuff I do own and all the stuff I should own.
Yea, I know, sounds weird, but in some ways I feel as if I'm not accomplished enough or am not where I'm supposed to be in life. Not only marital status-wise (or offspring-wise), but also because I have not amassed many of the typical "markers of success"...
More explicitly: No car, no house/apartment, no furniture...

I guess I'm a little conflicted: Should I start to finally get my ass into gear and work towards owning more stuff?
Or should I get rid of as many things as I can and stream-line my possessions?
Or impose a ban on myself? Go without buying anything for a certain period of time (Yea well, except food...)? How long could I do it? A month? Six months? A year?

I'll have to come back to this...

Along those lines, interesting link: A Life For Sale
I just love the idea of a completely fresh start...

Excuse Me, Ma'am, Where's Your Volume Control Switch?

Yea, looks like this is turning into a site dedicated to bitching and moaning after all. Hehe.

I promise to post some more pictures of the Netherlands and maybe even some Australia ones on the weekend.

But first some more complaining:
Why is it that American women have no volume control? Really, I need to know.

I have no scientific evidence whatsoever to back this up, but the American women I encounter in my job are significantly louder than all the other women.
The lovely US ladies stand in front of my office and freaking yell at each other. Usually about something not very interesting, like their kids' free-time activities or their last vacation. They don't seem agitated (as in 'angry'), but for some reason have a need to share their stories with the world.

So I'm wondering:
Is this a trait which can be traced back to the wide open spaces of the American West? Did people have to yell at each other from vast distances?

Or is it a matter of being overly self-confident? "My story matters to me, so I'm sure everybody else would love to hear it, too!"

Whatever reason is behind this slightly annoying behavior: Keep it down, ladies!


Oh, and I found this blog: Welcome To The International Center For The Advancement Of World Peace And Quiet . A man after my own heart.

Repetitive Tasks

So you're saying I'll have to do this for the rest of my life? Every day? At least twice?
Blah.

36-Year-Old Still Looking For Ways To Make Brushing Fun

SAN FRANCISCO-More than three decades after acquiring his first Pink Panther toothbrush, Mark Naasz continues to search unsuccessfully for new ways to make brushing his teeth fun, the 36-year-old Bernal Heights resident revealed Monday.

Yea, I know, The Onion is joking. I'm not. Really.

I often wonder how much time I spend doing mundane tasks. Think about it: Brushing my teeth, washing my face, brushing my hair, taking showers. Oh yea: Shaving excess body hair, getting hair cuts, plucking stray eyebrow hair...Sheesh, it never ends!
And that is just body maintenance...Then there's apartment cleaning, commuting to work, food shopping and preparation, etc. etc.

Not that I would necessarily fill the countless hours with something that much more worthwhile if I didn't have to do the 'upkeep'-stuff. Just saying'.

Oh, and I couldn't find any statistics about the number of hours I will have spent brushing my teeth over my expected 82 years of life.

But this is pretty cool, too:

Hmm, it says "with children", so maybe I'm closer to this:

The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics! What a treasure trove of information!
Love it.

Common Courtesy

So while I'm on this testy bitching-binge, might as well write about this:

Whatever happened to common fucking courtesy?

When did it go out of style to hold the door open for the next person, say 'please' and 'thank' you and just generally be a pleasant person to be around?
Yea, beats me, too.

Quite a few people have asked me how I can always be so friendly and nice to people who come to my office (Yes, I know. You wouldn't necessarily be able to tell that I am a nice person from today's entries... Just venting...).
Why? Because it's part of my job to be welcoming and helpful. And because I try to be a positive in people's lives. It feels good to help others and give them a smile or make them giggle. No kidding.

Well, for all the people who annoy me with their non-social and non-friendly behavior. Just a few hints:

• You come to my office and ask for a favor? -- Say 'hello' first, freaks!

• Your food explodes in the microwave? -- Clean the mess up.
  

• You use the last bit of toilet paper? -- Put a new roll in the thingy.

• You drink the last drop of water from the water cooler? -- Put a new container in. Oh, and if you're too weak to do it: Tell me. I'll help you out.

I realize this type of stuff is the same in every office and everybody complains about it. Nothing new or terribly exciting.

I just don't understand what is so hard about these small tasks and gestures. Being courteous makes living/dealing with other humans so much more bearable.

So please: Be nice, for fuck's sake.

Oh, to add a positive twist: I get fresh flowers for my office every week. Nice, huh?
Thank you, work, I really appreciate it.
Hehe.

Man Up, Bitches!

Preface: I'm wondering at what point I will have to declare this blog-thing "adult-only" because of language issues? Meh, I'll try to keep it somewhat clean, but sometimes a few choice swearwords are in order. Just for tension-release. They also add color to the discourse...no? Well, today's WTFs (Yes, as usual, more than one.) from work need at least some swearwords...

So, I'll admit it: I've been a little short-tempered and cranky at work lately. Some of it might be related to my stolen (well...lost, misplaced...whatever) MoJo (see yesterday's entry), or to my being underchallenged and bored quite a bit. OK. So grain of salt, I guess...

But: People are fucking freaks, man.

Exhibit A: I arrange substitutes for people who know that they will be gone in advance (conferences, etc.; somebody going home sick during the day). You fall ill after 4pm or in the AM, call the sub-line --> A sub will be arranged.
A few people cannot follow this (easy, right?) procedure. Dumbos.
----
So I get a call this AM at 7:55 (school starts at 8:30): In a whiny-ass voice the lady tells me she cannot come in. Something about a headache.
I get a little testy, telling her she's NOT supposed to call me, and there's no way in hell I'll get a sub in on time: "Why didn't you call the sub-line?" - "I just woke up." - Seriously? WTF? This just leads me to suspect you overslept and cannot be bothered to come in. Bitch.

Exhibit B: 8:00am, next "emergency": "The carpet in my room is extremely dirty. The people who used my room after 4pm yesterday left it a mess. Could you get somebody to clean it?" Sure, no problem.
--
Cannot reach the concierges. I forget about it. Complainer comes back. I try again. Find this older worker-dude and he helps me track down the cleaners (We're running all over the school, mind you.).
I go to the teacher's room; say the cleaners will be there in a minute: "Oh, it's too late now. I'll start the class in a minute." - Hmm, OK. Whatever.
I look over at the carpet. A fucking 6-by-10-feet thing with two small specks of dirt on it! Pick the darn thing up, shake it twice --> Problem solved. Argh.

Exhibit C: I get a call from a concerned mom. She cannot babysit another family's daughter after school, because she has her own sick child at home. Could the girl maybe go to the after-school program as a drop-in because it's an emergency situation?
Well, I ask the after-school lady. "No, no. It's not a drop-in program. We have enough kids to deal with already." Fuck.
So, I tell her that there's really no other alternative and please, could she make an exception? If she doesn't agree, I'd have to keep the girl in my office (Yea, tried to play it a little passive-aggressive. Hey, what was I supposed to do?) for an hour and a half.
Bitch isn't bothered and I'm stuck with a 5-year-old assistant. WTF?

(It was actually a lot of fun, hehe. We played with paper airplanes, delivered mail and ran some other errands...
But really? Is this how people operate? It's not my job, so I don't care?Let somebody else do it? Is that really the way you want to portrait yourself to your colleagues? Sheesh.)


Well, some other things that were equally minor, yet hugely annoying. Haha.

What gets me: So many people seem to think that minor tasks are beneath them. That somebody else will take care of it. That community-space doesn't need to be taken care of (Seriously, the principal is one of the few people who pick up a piece of trash from the ground here...Never seen anybody else do the same. I kid you not. They step over it. They SEE it and walk around it.). That you can treat people shitty because they are your aide, a concierge or a cafeteria worker.
Pisses me off.

And yes, Karma will come back to bite you in the ass ... and all those dumbos will come back as dung-beetles. Harhar.

Maybe I should have had more coffee today after all...

Holier Than Thou

So why exactly is it that the people preaching the loudest are often the ones committing the 'crimes' they are so fervently denouncing?
Just baffles me.

So the governor of New York, Eliot Spitzer, uses his alleged superior morality and record as Attorney General to get elected. He goes after criminals with fervor:

"As state attorney general, he prosecuted prostitution rings with enthusiasm — pointing out that they are often involved in human trafficking, drug trafficking and money laundering. In 2004 on Staten Island, Mr. Spitzer was vehement in his outrage over 16 people arrested in a high-end prostitution ring." (from the NYT Editorial, March 11)

And then he goes and hooks up with a hooker? Seriously?

I'm telling you, 'holier than thou' always comes back to bite you in the ass.

And on a somewhat related note: I wish people would stop commenting on other people's relationships/marriages.
Nobody knows anything about the Spitzer family. Nor should they. The state of the Spitzer marriage, whatever agreements or problems they might have is their business. Simple as that.

And, don't push your morals on me and assume you know ANYTHING about me and my private life. Blech.