Last Friday we had the first snowfall and it predictably brought the country to its knees. Just a few centimetres caused deadlock on the highways, trains to stop running and a fever pitched madness amongst the masses trying to get home

Fortunately I was stuck with Miranda.

We spent two hours rolling our eyes at the anti-social Dutchies. When the train finally showed up and the crowd surged behind me I felt a wave of panic. I saw something so animal-like in their behaviour. I think it was the beady, darting, frantic expression in their eyes. A second heave came and the elbows struck me from all angles. Suddenly I saw how fragile the pretence of civility was and half-expected total pandemonium to ensue. Luckily it didn’t and we made it home eventually. Saturday included Christmas dress shopping for all the parties coming up. I couldn’t find anything so I’ve decided to wear, wait for it, a dress that I’ve already worn before.

————————————————

P.S To all the emailers asking what happened with volleyball Nicole, things turned out ok. After the email exchange I rocked up at the next volleyball game to show a bit of spine. She approached me on the bleachers,

“Do you want to go and talk things through at the canteen?”

I was a little taken a back after the viciousness of her emails and replied,

“I think we’ve said everything that needs to be said”.

I guess I knew that talking with someone so unwilling to see things from another perspective was not going to benefit anybody. She looked surprised and mumbled sincerely,

“I find that a pity”

I shrugged. I also found it a pity but needed to free myself from the situation before I reached Pathetic City. The following weeks left me thoughtful. I felt so cleansed of everything that it triggered me to think about some other problematic people I keep futilely trying and trying (and trying) to establish somesort of relationship with. I’ve decided to ditch them all and am feeling quite pleased with myself.

Last week I went to Zurich for work. The fleeting glimpses I caught of the city were breathtaking. Contrary to the stereotype of the Swiss, I found them fun, smart and very stylish. I tried some of the famous Sprungli chocolates at the airport and fell in love instantly. I was in such daze after trying a couple that I accidentally picked up a box of diabetic pralines. So in the end I paid 20 euro for some plastic tasting chocolates and was predictably inconsolable.

The reason for the trip was to convince 12 people from different countries to start working in the same way. From experience I know this can be a futile exercise. The Germans thinks they do it better, the English agree but don’t change anything and the Italians and French tell us that their laws are just too complicated for anybody else to understand. So generally there’s a whole lot of talk and not a lot of action. Surprisingly enough, this time we got quite a positive response. There was no break out of WWIII and not even any swearing in foreign languages. I think, maybe, just maybe, we might have even made some progress.

Shocking I know.

This year was no exception. I woke up around 8 and lay awake for half an hour waiting for my breakfast in bed. Jarno was comatose and not responding to my subtle pokes in the ribs. Not a good start.

I went downstairs, made myself coffee and waited for the phone to ring. For a long, long time it didn’t. Jarno surfaced around 10 and told me he didn’t have time to get breakfast because he’d played volleyball the evening before. GRRRR. He gave me the latest Sims game for the playstation and we spent the next couple of hours checking it out.

My parents and Gosia called but no matter how much I stared at my phone it wouldn’t ring. Not even the video shop to tell me I was entitled to a free rental. Around 1pm my stomach growled louder than the Sims music so we decided to go out for bagels. Yum. Jarno agreed to come shopping for an unlimited timeframe which, in my opinion, is one of the best gifts a guy can give. Still no phone calls and I started to get depressed. Miranda? Colleen?? Izzy? Lora? Borderliner? Lenny? Had they all forgotten?!

I resigned myself to the fact that all my friends were thoughtless bitches. To cheer me up Jarno suggested we go out for dinner to my fave italian place. As soon as we entered I saw them all sitting at a table smiling at me. Jarno had organised a surprise party. The food was delish and I was showered with thoughtful presents.

As I sat back and took stock of everybody chatting and laughing together I felt incredibly fortunate. I have built much more of a life here in Holland than I give credit to in my blog. My friends are a bunch of genuinely remarkable people and I’m lucky to have them. Then there’s Jarno. I love him to death, even if he doesn’t give me breakfast in bed on my birthday……

p.s Girls, please ignore the thoughtless bitches part

My trip back to the land of sunny skies was too short but I loved every second of it. I zipped up to Sydney to watch the horserace that stops the nation. This involved dressing up and a ridiculously large hat. I even went to the MAC counter to have my make-up done professionally. The woman was French and had a very experimental approach. By that I mean bright turquoise eyeliner mixed with fuchsia and gold eye shadow. As I glanced at the result in the mirror I almost jumped at the transvestite staring back at me (no offence to any transvestites, just not the look I was going for). Luckily enough after 5 glasses of champagne I stopped caring. We were out with some arrogant banker wankers who couldn’t seem to manage a single coke-free afternoon. We ditched them in the end and went out for a lovely dinner in Balmain. Ingrid, of course James is excluded from the ‘banker wanker’ description. I also had my traditional gnocchi pesto, hung out with the girls and spent some quality time with the fam. As the plane took off from Sydney I felt a bittersweet rush. I think I’m now officially torn between my two lives.