Marco&Niki

Connections (Or: Pretzels and home)

[Edited to add: My dad sent me an email saying that I should mention that today is the birthday of William the Silent (April 24, 1533 – July 10, 1584). My parents are definitely brushing up on their Dutch history!]

WARNING: Today’s post is going to be random. The theme is pretzels.

Today when I was on MSN, Marco said he had emailed me a picture. Here is the picture that he sent me:

a bag of pretzels in the Netherlands

The reason that he sent me this picture was because I was always disappointed to not find pretzels at the Albert Heijn we usually frequent – though I probably just missed them. He got these recently from the Hoogvliet supermarket. This got me thinking of my last trip to the Netherlands last summer.

During that summer we planned two trips. One in June for about 10 days, where he and his mom would come visit (her first time in New York City since the ’70s). We also planned for me to come to the Netherlands the last week of July and the first week of August. I was able to get all three weeks off successfully, but his employer asked him to work that week in July and only take the first week of August off.

One of days that he was at work, his mom and I went to the town he worked at by tram and hung out for the afternoon waiting for him to get out of work. We did some clothes and shoes shopping, and had lunch at Hema. One of the last things we did was visit Hoogvliet for some sliced turkey to bring home.

Thus, the Hoogvliet connection reminded me of that same week Marco had off from work. Because that is when I truly fell in love with the Hague – when I suddenly had time to do some exploring on my own and I realized it would be possible to live there. Of course I was quite reluctant to go anywhere without Marco’s phone, since it had Google Maps. Harder to get lost that way! (He used his work Blackberry that week.)

So I guess one could say I am not sure if it would have unfolded the same way if we hadn’t planned both trips. Otherwise he might have been able to to take both weeks off while I was there in the Netherlands and I wouldn’t have explored part of the Hague myself. So in a long winded way, the bag of pretzels reminds me of my future home.

See what I did there? Now the blog title makes sense!

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Waiting patiently (Or: A memorable New York bench)

July 2009 was a great time for many reasons. Marco had a trip scheduled to come see me, planned at least 3-4 months in advance. It was a bit of an odd trip to plan, since by July I had graduated from my Masters program and was trying to find work. The cutoff for going back home would have been the end of August – I was very close to running out of money. So he had to make sure that he came before that point.

Just before he arrived, I was granted a job interview with the current library that I work at. He arrived a few days ahead of this interview (scheduled for Thursday, July 2). Of course I couldn’t really relax until the interview was to take place, so the first few days were a bit tense. I knew I just had to get past it, since we were planning on going into New York City for the July 4 fireworks – that was a blast, by the way!

There was a lot of little obstacles to overcome the day of the interview. First off, I should have brought my tennis shoes, since the dress shoes painfully dug into my skin. I of course realized this halfway to the train station, so Marco raced back to get my tennis shoes… we missed that train, though we deliberately chose an early train anyway. For his troubles he got my admiration and a huge blister on his foot.

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Categories: Marco&Niki | 3 Comments

Planning (Or: The first night)

Marco and I had our first video chat tonight since he returned to the Netherlands on Sunday. It was pretty nice to see him again, although my latest haircut looked rather wild and untamed on further inspection! A short summer cut.

We talked about some fun things like planning for his probable trip back here in late September. Heck, we’re a bit behind, since we usually have the next trip all planned out before he even arrives for the current trip . . . But this one will just be a quick week, to prepare for the move. I’ll be taking over some of his luggage space too so he can start carting some of my stuff with him. And just hanging out, of course.

And then somehow the conversation switched to the first day back in the Netherlands. How some family and friends who greet us at the airport will probably come back to his — our! — apartment with us, so perhaps we can go to to the Brazilian restaurant together as a group and celebrate. Yes, celebrate. My first non-touristy day in the Netherlands!

The Brazilian restaurant is on the beach of Scheveningen and is called Rodizio (warning, sound, but great photos). They go around offering you various types of meat. If you accept, they shave it off the bone right there for you. It’s one of those places where you don’t want to eat breakfast or lunch that day – otherwise you definitely won’t have enough room.

And once you finally give up and can’t eat anymore, you can flip your coaster over so that it says ‘nee’ (no) instead of ‘ja’ (yes) so they know to stop offering you more meat. And don’t get me started on the grilled pineapple dessert (also shaved on the spot)… yum!

And you can also order a caiprinha, a Brazilian cocktail made with cachaca (similar to sugarcane rum), limes, lime juice, sugar and crushed ice cubes. It’s a great summer drink!

Who knows if we will actually go there. Doesn’t matter. Because I’ll be with my favorite Dutchies.

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With sympathy (Or: Perhaps they know Marco?)

A few days before Valentine’s last year I was walking home from work. As I entered the driveway where I live, I saw a car pull up, but I ignored it because it is usually for the landlords. Side note: I live in someone’s house, but I have my own entrance and apartment in what conceivably could have been a large garage. However the original owners opted for an apartment instead.

A few minutes after I entered my front door there was a knock on the door. The person was there for me after all! And he was carrying a large bouquet of flowers, part of which you can see in the image below. I can honestly say it was my first bouquet of flowers for Valentine’s ever so I was quite overjoyed. And I am sure Marco was patting himself on the back for his cunning planning, since I had no clue.

Ironic Valentine's Day card within flowers

You can see the card above. Now, Marco ordered them online (being that he is normally not even in the country!). He typed in the message he wanted (Niki- ik hou van jou! or I love you), and someone else at the florist actually wrote it out in pen.

…I think it was the Dutch that threw them off, because they definitely attached the wrong card to the bouquet!  Look closely at it.

I must admit I started giggling and couldn’t stop for a long, long time. Perhaps they know Marco and they knew what I was in for? It’s definitely a Valentine’s Day gift I won’t forget anytime soon.

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Beginnings (Or: Setting foot in New York City)

Growing up I had always lived in a small town. I still remember when we broke the 25,000 resident barrier, which meant that my little town had home rule (link to the Illinois constitution) and thus the town had more power and didn’t need to allow the state government to make as many decisions for it. Which may or may not be a good thing for the residents, but still.

When I decided to do my M.L.I.S. (Masters in Library and Information Science) at Rutgers University, I had to move to New Jersey in Spring of 2008. I actually visited a friend in Maryland for the Christmas holiday and secured my housing while on that trip. As luck would have it, Marco and Roger were vacationing in New York City at that time, so I moved to New Brunswick on a Sunday night and took the train into the city that Monday morning to visit them.

First time on a train alone. Eeep.

Thankfully someone helped me out with the ticket machine. I just hope I didn’t make her miss her train! I was only mildly confused when the ticket-person asked for my ticket… and then asked for it again later on. A bit frightened, I showed him my receipt and said he already took it. He left me alone after that.

I knew that Penn station was the very last stop, though I’ll admit to being a bit concerned when I heard Newark Penn Station, which sounds way too close to New York Penn Station for my liking. But I stayed on the train until the very last stop, and then followed everyone as they went upstairs.

And then promptly felt very, very lost. The place was HUGE! And Marco was nowhere to be found. I waited around for about 20 minutes, and then he finally gave me a call. Turns out he was waiting in another part of the station, as there are multiple places NJTransit trains can end up. But since I had no idea where I was and my directions weren’t helpful (how was I to know there was more than one Hudson News in the place? Turns out there was like 20!) we were sort of at an impasse.

Eventually I did the smart thing and I went up to a police officer and explained the situation. Marco knew where he was, but I had no clue where I was. I handed over my phone to the police officer and he spoke with Marco for a minute, telling Marco where he should go. After he handed me back the phone, he pointed me in a certain direction and said “go that way”. After thanking him, I did.

And after about 20 seconds of walking I saw Marco coming around the corner. Rejoice!

(Actually, the first thing I noticed was his trademark black and white checkered button shirt which I had fallen in love with, but that is a blog post for another time.)

After much hugging and relief to see a familiar face, we went to his hotel (the New Yorker) and talked for like 10 minutes in the lobby before moving upstairs. This was because I had never met Roger before, and the poor guy hadn’t even known I existed until a month prior when Marco broke the news that an American girl would be spending a few days with them in NYC. But it all worked out.

Best of all, the delay meant that when we went to pick up McDonald’s for breakfast, we were late enough that the menu switched over from breakfast to lunch while we were standing there wondering what to get. Score! (For me, anyway. They happen to like breakfast food.)

And that was how I spent my first two hours in NYC. Crazy times.

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Marked up (Or: A message of love)

One of the random things in Marco’s apartment is a rather large dry erase board in his kitchen on the wall (like four feet by three feet or similar). Eventually I started writing little messages on it, including “ILYM”, or I love you Marco, a day or two before I had to leave to go back to the States. I put a restaurant menu over it so he wouldn’t see it right away, and then hinted about it on MSN some days after I returned home.

Aww. A message from Marco.

During my second trip I decided to write down the day I arrived, as shown above. And then in the third trip (exactly 8 months later) I did the same.

And then last month Marco surprised me with this picture of what he had written underneath…

Awww.

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Pasta (Or: Pasta pasta pasta)

I’ve never been a good cook. Heck, I’ve never been a cook. I have been known to believe the microwave was about to blow up, or the oven, or… So when I moved to the East coast to get my Masters at Rutgers University, I wasn’t too worried about not having anything but a fridge, freezer, and microwave.

I’ll admit it was an interesting arrangement, but the apartment was cheap enough. I lived off sandwiches most of my time there, generally PB&J or turkey with…LOTS of mustard. Most of my food and groceries came from the deli up the street. There really wasn’t a proper grocery store in New Brunswick. I could either walk a mile to K-Mart (a department store with some food) or Rite Aid in a completely different direction. Still far away.

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Categories: Food, Marco&Niki, The Hague | 6 Comments

Memories (Or: It’s been a quick 5 years)

In October of last year I received an unexpected card from Marco. It was a card in honor of our 5 year “anniversary” since meeting each other the night of October 19, 2006. It’s pretty easy for Marco to remember the date since he went out with a group to the Predators vs Devils hockey game. My flight arrived that night so I didn’t meet him until after the group returned.

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A chance meeting (Or: American present, Dutch future)

I met my fiancé Marco in October 2006. We first knew of each other for some years before that through an online game called Avatar MUD, a text-based medieval fantasy game similar to Zork.

But the first time we met in real life was at a gaming convention in New Jersey, USA. I was working the help desk at the time. To be honest, to me he seemed a bit unapproachable online, playing a character that tended more towards evil than good.. yet I had no idea that that night would change everything.

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Categories: Marco&Niki | 5 Comments

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