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My typical day in Holland (…aka when stroopwafels attack…)

November 3, 2010

(I SO wish I was awesome enough to know Hyperbole and a Half and she would think I was awesome and guest illustrate this post… )

I get up in the morning. Practice pranayama, do hip opener, and some sun salutations (why do I dislike sun salutations so much? I really just don’t like them. And I had better fix that attitude because they ain’t going anywhere. And yes I would practice more if I had my mat. Swear. And shut up Amy I can hear you rolling your eyes from Holland – this is what I do, get used to it!)


Get ready for work, have breakfast.

BTW. Can we talk about how different Dutch breakfasts are from Italian ones? In Italy it’s like “oh, you want breakfast? Really? What, espresso ain’t enough for you? Fine – here have a chocolate-filled croissant.” It’s like a suckerpunch of sugar and caffeine right to your face. You know, if you insist on having it. In northern Europe? It’s more like… “Here, have some bread. Have some toast. Have some eggs. Have some muesli. Have some yogurt. Have some coldcuts. Have some cheese…” But anyways…

Right. Back to my day.

Get the bike, say goedmorgen to the chickens and the cat. Ride to work with five thousand (ok maybe not that many – depends on if I leave when people are heading to school) other commuters and try not to crash into any of them or piss them off or hit a car (as opposed to a car hitting me… much more likely the other way ’round, here).

Work. Have awkward coffee breaks (when they ring the bellnot even joking – so we can all drink coffee together and have a chat… who wants to instill community in the workplace? ….fucking socialists…) where other people are forced to talk in English because you are there. Same thing for lunch. Work.

Get on the bike – hopefully before it gets dark, but if not, no worries. This isn’t the U.S. or anything.

Come home, make dinner. Get the computer back out to check the news and watch Jon Stewart/Steven Colbert reruns with dinner (hey, gotta stay true to the American roots somehow – and it ain’t happening with all the bike-riding and people-talking-in-non-native-tongues).

……… stroopwafels  ……

Oh ha ha ha John Stewart is SO funny! I would marry him in a nanosecond! And I’m not even sure how I feel about commitment!

…….stroooopwafels…..

Mmmm-hmmm yes well we’re not done with dinner yet.


……… strooopwafels  ……


OK now we’re done with dinner but… you know only bad things come from opening that tin.


……… strooooooooopwafels  ……


You know you can’t have just one. Just don’t even open it. You’ve already eaten so many. Imagine what Yvonne will think when she opens it and sees you’ve eaten them ALL.

……… stroooooooooooopwafelsssssssssss!……

No. Don’t even open it. That’s like cookie crack in there. Just leave it!

……… STROOPWAFELS!!!

OMG DON’T OPEN THE TIN DON’T DO THE TIN DON’T OPEN THE TIN!

STROOPWAFELS!!!!

OMG OPEN IT OPEN IT NOM NOM NOM NOMNOMNOM


Wait?? Where did it go?? It was over so fast! MUST HAVE MORE!


AHHHHHH!!! NOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM….!!!

Stroopwafel

Don't be fooled by their innocent, maybe-these-are-tasty-appearance... (Wikipedia)

… and thus, I learn to appreciate addiction in a whole new way.

10 Comments leave one →
  1. November 3, 2010 10:07 am

    I applaud you for comming clean on your waffle dependancy issues. The first part of healing is admitting that you have a problem.

    How is the Dutch beer??? Do they ring a bell for beer breaks too??

    • November 5, 2010 4:21 pm

      Yes. I feel the step is admitting you have a problem.

      Leaving Holland helps.

  2. November 4, 2010 12:39 pm

    Nice blog. You may enjoy this too:

    http://caughtinthemiddleman.wordpress.com/2009/11/02/only-in-holland/

    • November 5, 2010 4:22 pm

      Hey thanks for reading! I’ll definitely check yours out, too!

      (… tell me you know the number of a stroopwafel dependency group…)

  3. November 4, 2010 3:18 pm

    Since I don’t drink coffee, would I be an outcast?

    • November 5, 2010 4:23 pm

      They would offer your hot chocolate or tea. Several times if you refused the first time. The Dutch are very polite.

  4. November 5, 2010 2:35 am

    “Oh ha ha ha John Stewart is SO funny! I would marry him in a nanosecond! And I’m not even sure how I feel about commitment!”

    I’ve never read anything truer than this. Also, “truer” doesn’t seem like it should be a real word. But it is. Truly.

    • November 5, 2010 4:36 pm

      I don’t really like words that don’t sound like words but are. They get me every time.

      I do like words that sound like words but aren’t. And the ones I make up. But then I sound less smart when I use them. Unless people don’t know and think they are real words. Then I sound even more smart (smartER).

      It’s been a whirlwind two days. I might need more sleep.

  5. November 9, 2010 2:25 am

    Stroopwafels….sound so good.

    I SO feel you on the langauge thing. Except in reverse. Mr. Lee Hale’s and family all speak Afrikaans (creole dutch!) and I…don’t. I can read and write passingly in German, but when I speak it I sound like a lobotimised donkey on ketamine. So I try to avoid that.

    My in laws try to speak English around me, but it lasts for about three minutes and collapses, so I’m left to sit there awkwardly grasping every fifth word and feeling like a strictly decorative object. They’re really sweet people, and I love them, but it’s like being on a lonely language archipelago listening to ships pass in the night. All of which is to say– I think it would be just as awkward for you if everyone ignored you and spoke dutch. Maybe, because when the in laws did speak English it was also awkward. My nephew in law (is that a thing? That is a thing, right?) upon first meeting me said “You’re really funny!” when he meant to say pretty.

    There is no escaping the awkward Americanness. Or something.

    Every time I go to Africa I also feel absurdly American. Like, everywhere I walk there is a trail of weeping eagles and stars and stripes. It’s weird.

    Ha ha watch how I swoop in and hijack your comments section with rambling anecdotes, because GIVE ME SOME FUCKING STROOPWAFELS OMG I NEED THEM NOW!!!

    /retreats

  6. November 12, 2010 2:15 am

    Are those . . . could they be . . . is it possible . . . WAFFLE COOKIES??

    I’d be all over those, taking them downtown straight to my ass and gut.

    “In Italy it’s like “oh, you want breakfast? Really? What, espresso ain’t enough for you? Fine – here have a chocolate-filled croissant.” It’s like a suckerpunch of sugar and caffeine right to your face.”

    Love this.

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