After four years (and a victory lap), graduation finally came!

Telling J-Dawg goodbye after the wonderful couple of days we had spent together was very hard, but one event made it somewhat easier...GRADUATION. I was to be graduating that coming weekend of May 7 and I had a lot to do to prepare for it all, so to-do lists enveloped most of my thoughts ( J-Dawg had set up shop in my brain- he had become a permanent fixture, so every other thought was of him).

To my surprise, while saying goodbye, he said "I'm not sure if I can, but I'm really going to try and make it to your party and graduation." I was so excited, I couldn't see straight. What could be better than walking across that stage, being handed a diploma, and then seeing my parents, Bro and Fiance and the rest of the family with pride in their eyes? And then being swept into J-Dawg's embrace? I replied, "That'd be awesome if you could make it, and if not, I'll understand." The great thing about J-Dawg (well, let's face it, everything is great about J-Dawg) is that when he says he'll try to do something he means it. To this day, I don't believe he's ever backed out on his word to anyone.

I began getting everything together for my party. Because of my love for Dr. Seuss (and his sensational quotes), I chose to have a "Oh the Places You'll Go" themed party. Others may have thought this was very childish, but what's life if you're not having fun? My mom and I made a wonderful centerpiece of colored feathers and 'whatchamadoosits", fish bowls filled with Goldfish snacks, and colored and polka dot plates, napkins, and plastic ware. She also designed and ordered the coolest custom cake ever! (See below)

Although I was missing J-Dawg, I had so much to do before graduation (pay all my university fines and parking tickets, clean house, assure family coming in from out of town were situated, work with mom about food and drinks to serve...). Luckily, most of the tough stuff had already been done: grad pictures had been taken, invites were designed and sent out, and cap and gown were in my possession. 

Thursday rolled around and I got a call from J-Dawg saying he couldn't come that evening (that's when my parents, Bro and Fiance got into town) but that he would be there Friday morning! Whoopee! (I literally said that.) That night, my parents, Bro, Fiance, and my uncle all went out to eat for Bro's birthday. We were able to enjoy some authentic New Mexican food, but wished the rest of my family could be there (Yo-Yo, M, Reeder and K couldn't make it for my graduation.)We then went to the bar and were having a great time until we ran into Butthead there, and they had words. That night was the night mine and Butthead's eight-year-friendship had ended.

After Bro's feelings of my past boyfriends, I feared how the meeting would go with him and J-Dawg. Bro is pretty protective of me, but like my parents, fears I don't have the best judgement when it comes to choosing men. He's met all of my exes and never really took to any of them (rightfully so). He, like me, knew none of them quite had "it". What's "it" you ask? "It" is different for everyone, but to impress me (and my siblings for the most part) ya gotta be smart, down-to-earth, minimally cocky, polite, kind and funny. None of my exes really checked off on ALL of the characteristics.


On Friday, we began decorating the house and getting things ready. Fiance was amazing help, while she, her friend, and my mom did darn-near everything! After a long, hot drive J-Dawg rolled into my house pretty sluggish. I felt horrible for him as he had to bust his tail at the dairy so that he could leave work that weekend. I introduced him to the rest of the family he hadn't met yet, including Bro. J-Dawg did the most important thing you can do when meeting my brother- looked him in the eye, gave him a firm handshake, and introduced himself. (You wouldn't believe the amount of people that don't understand this simple, yet crucial gesture.)


While Fiance and I finished getting ready, Bro and J-Dawg sat in the living room, shooting the bull. They talked cows, and when I walked in, Fox News was on, but I wasn't sure which one changed it to that channel, as they're both avid watchers. I came in and sat down with them, and saw J-Dawg yawn and fight to keep his eyelids open. I sent him to take a nap while we finished preparing everything. Although he was reluctant, he was out once his head hit the pillow.

Bro and Fiance then surprised me with a box that felt as if it was empty. I was unsure of what was in it, yet excited to find out. I opened it to find a drawing I had made over two years ago of a pair of custom boots I wanted (15" green tops with decorative crosses, my initials on the pull tabs, round toe with roper heel). Confused, I asked what it was, so Bro pulled out the laptop and showed me the order for these custom boots. I was so incredibly stoked and appreciative of what Bro, Fiance, my other brother, Reeder, and his wife, K, had done for me! 'How exciting,' I thought, 'no one is going to have these boots!'

*Side note- For as long as I could remember, I couldn't and still can't handle when girls would go out and purchase all the same items I already had then say "Look what I bought". I've spent a lot of my time trying to find things that are unique, as I'm not a fan of looking like everyone else. So I'm very excited about my custom boots!

J-Dawg woke up from his nap and I showed him my drawing of my custom boots, even he was excited! Then my mom brought in my cake and it was so creatively awesome! At that point I was very grateful that I have such a wonderful family, and a wonderful "vriendje" (boyfriend). I opened the rest of my grad gifts from the family and was surprised to receive my very own status purse (luckily, I haven't seen anyone else with the same one) and inside of it were Alan Jackson tickets. Thanks mom! Guests started arriving for the party, so I walked around introducing them and family to one another. 

Although not many of my friends that I invited were able to come, those that did come really mean a lot to me. It was great to hang out with Alli and her bf, both of which I had met when I first started college. 2213,a guy I had met freshman year that I had become best friends with stopped by and met my parents, as well as a couple of buddies from high school. While I made my rounds, socializing, I noticed that J-Dawg and my dad had been talking all night. 'Yay, Dad will realize J-Dawg is not an angry person!'

"Oh the Places You'll Go" Graduation Party  

                                

  

Textbook Cake

We socialized, had some drinks, and hung out some more. It was pretty low-key and relaxed, but let's face it, after five years of college, I was all partied out. It was getting pretty late, and my grandparents were outlasting most of my guests! By the time everyone had left, Bro, Fiance and I weren't ready to crash. We asked J-Dawg if he wanted to play an awesome game of 'Things', "the hilarious new party game that presents players with provocative topics like "THINGS… people do when no one is looking", "THINGS… you wouldn’t do for a million dollars" or "THINGS… your parents forgot to tell you"… and allows each player to say whatever comes to mind. Pick a topic, get everyone to write a response, read them out loud and then guess who said what. There are no right answers. There are no wrong answers, just a lot of fun. You won’t believe the THINGS… you’ll hear"

We began playing and Bro pulled the card "Things you shouldn't juggle...". Both Fiance and I said 'women'. J-Dawg's response? 'Chain saws'. Bro laughed super hard, and said J-Dawg won that one. Next was "Things you wouldn't want to help your brother with..." J-Dawg's response? "Pulling a still-born calf at 2am". He had won again. Bro was enjoying hearing J-Dawg's responses, not only because they were literal, but because he could relate to them. 

At this point it was super late and we all knew we had a long day ahead of us. The Bro's protective nature kicked in. "J-Dawg, I hope that twin bed in the spare room is comfy, cause you know that's where you're sleeping." J-Dawg, being the respectful gentleman he is, smiled warmly and said "Good night guys", as he walked towards the spare room. Considerate of my brother's request, I gave J-Dawg a kiss goodnight and went to my room.

The next morning we were all dragging butt, but was excited to graduate. All done up in a pretty summer dress and my grandmother's pearls, I grabbed my heels and was ready to go. Next to my heels, were my white top, square-toe, Anderson Bean boots. I went back and forth thinking of what to do - be a lady and wear the heels? Or be me and take my boots? I grabbed them both and we headed to the university.

It was a blazing day and although graduation was inside, we had to stand outside in line. J-Dawg was a sweetheart and hung out with me in the blistering heat and kept me company. The line started to move, so he gave me a hug and went inside to where my parents were. Waiting that day felt longer than all the five years I had actually been in college. My feet were killing me so I opted for the boots, and changed before I went in. 'I love my boots,' I thought.

FINALLY, my college was called and we were getting closer. But one thing my dad gave me besides his blue eyes, his lack of patience, and his love for animals is his last name. The T's took forever to get to! Then my row began to stand and I was overwhelmed with excitement, as my hours of texting J-Dawg and writing on my Facebook page were finally over. I walked to the stage and got compliment after compliment on my boots (luckily I was easy for my family to see). The "Voice of the Aggies" read my name as I was handed my fake diploma. He smiled at me like he had done many times before. I actually worked with him at the radio station and really appreciated him and his humor.

Walking off the stage, I hear someone scream my name and as soon as I looked up, S had taken a picture of me. Then I received a text from him saying congrats with a compliment on my boots. Awkward.  

Afterwards, we were sent back to our seat to wait some more. 'Really people?! I have stuff to do! Let me out!' I'm thinkin' every kid sitting in Pan Am, wearing a a cap and gown was thinking the same exact thing! Either that, or 'Ugh, I can't believe Mom made me walk!' Then we were finally released!

I walked out and found my parents,grandparents, siblings, uncle, and to my surprise, 2213! He sat through a four hour graduation ceremony with my family? Wow. I was grateful, but slightly confused. That's sweet, but why? Bro and Fiance gave me flowers, and everyone gave me hugs to congratulate me. I took pictures with my grandparents, as this was a very important event to my grandmother.

We got in the Suburban and headed back to my house to change and cool off. Sweet, kind J-Dawg put his hand on top of mine, and said "That's cool that 2213 came, but..." He didn't have to say anything, I knew what he meant. He wasn't jealous or hurt by any chance, but like me, was confused. Unfortunately my mom piped in at that instant, "That boy's in love with you!" Really mother?! Really?!

We then went to the hotel where my parents and grandparents were staying, and enjoyed some yummy snacks, pizza and then took a dip in the pool. Bro and Fiance came and hung out with us, and we just enjoyed some relaxed time with the familia. I was finally done with textbooks, university parking fees, dorms, and boy drama. That day I was able to let out a huge sigh and say "I'm done."

I said goodbye to all my family members who had come down and was beginning to feel the relief of things slowing down. I had went to Europe then graduated- time for a breather. J-Dawg asked if I minded if he were to stay another night, and I was ecstatic. Bro shook his hand and said goodbye, then threw in "Just cause I'm not here doesn't mean you don't have to sleep in the spare bedroom." J-Dawg just smiled.

I must see him again...

The Monday following Easter Sunday, I was floating on Cloud 9. In two weeks, I would be graduating! Not to mention, I had just met a wonderful human being who was unlike anyone I had ever met before. Things seemed to be getting better and better. Longing to know more about this intriguing man, I nonchalantly mentioned to him that 'perhaps, just maybe I could make it up your way again, possibly. I'm not sure.' Didn't wanna seem overzealous.

I thought it was time to ask my parents' opinions. Because I had been to Europe, and especially the Netherlands, I had a much better understanding of J-Dawg. Why he did the things he did (wear wooden shoes), why he talks the way he does (he's only been in the States for seven years), and why he seems so quiet and reserved (Europeans don't hug strangers). Although both of my parents had been overseas, this was their first real interaction with a young man from Europe, who was still in the process of becoming an American.

When I asked what they thought, Mom was constantly worried that she did or said something that offended him because of how reserved he is. My dad on the other hand, thought that J-Dawg was 'angry'. When I heard this, I was shocked because J-Dawg is the happiest, most light-hearted person I knew. Come to figure, because of his accent combined with his deep voice, my dad mistook this for anger. When I tried to explain this to my dad that this kid truly is a sweetheart, and rarely gets angry, my dad was still riding the fence about this stranger his little girl was warming up to.

After some thought, I decided I wasn't going to worry too much about the parents' hesitation, and instead spend more time learning about J-Dawg. After all, my approval was more important than my parents', right? He text me daily and if he was busy, he'd let me know. I was never left hanging or wondering why I hadn't heard from him when he said he was going to call. This was all new to me, a man doing what he says he's going to? What!? This was unheard of in my world. I'm not the type to play cat-and-mouse games, and I don't believe in "the chase". So he'd call me when he felt like it, and I'd text him in between phone calls with no mind games, no catch-me-if-you-can bologna.

Although I knew J-Dawg wasn't a typical guy, I still had my guard up. What if he was just on his best behavior since it was still in the beginning? Whatever the case, my mind was mostly concerned with graduation and finding a job outside the area I had spent the past five years of my life. Although I was busy looking at the big picture, filling out university paperwork, polishing my resume, and job searching, that didn't stop thoughts of J-Dawg from sneaking in every chance they got. 

As I got excited for the upcoming weekend, I received word that my brother and his fiance were going to be at my parents that weekend. They asked that I head up north and meet them there so we can all hang out. Immediately, I felt feelings of guilt, as I knew which ever decision I made (whether to go hang out with Bro and Fiance or J-Dawg) would cause someone disappointment.

I love my brother and his fiance, but I was so torn as to what to do. 'Should I just plant myself here at home for the weekend so that all parties lose? Do I let bro down, and say "Hey ps, I'm not coming. Mr. Fantastic wants to see me and I can't deny him of that! (*chuckle*)"? Or tell J-Dawg, who I'd already made plans with, "Sorry... although you're gorgeous, and fun, and stinkin' fantastic and I wanna spend every waking minute with you.... I can't see you this weekend"?

Aye yiy yiy, what's a girl to do?! Hmmmm, only one answer to this situation: spend half the weekend with Bro and Fiance and the other half with J-Dawg. After informing all parties of the plan in place, in flowed the flak. "Really?! You're leaving your favorite brother and the coolest chick ever to go see some dude? Really?! I see how it is!" Luckily, there was no criticism on the other side. J-Dawg just said "That's understandable, family is very important." Feeling grateful that I hadn't hurt J-Dawg's feeling and sad that I disappointed Bro, I packed my bags with a heavy heart and hit the road.

Bro, Fiance and I hung out on Friday night and Saturday. We had a really good time, except that it was so condensed due to my need to see Sir Dutchman wearing his Cinches again. I told the family goodbye, and after getting what amount of grief Bro could spew out at me in a small amount of time, I headed J-Dawg's way. After a boring and quiet three hour drive, I finally made it to the dairy and was excited to be within a minute of seeing him.

He was waiting outside for me and greeted me with open arms. I jumped out of the car into his embrace, and all the guilt I had in my stomach from Bro disappeared. We then did what has come to be my favorite activity with J-Dawg (get your head out of the gutter). We poured two glasses of wine, headed outside, and hopped on the tailgate. We sat and watched the beautiful multi-color sunset, all the while holding hands. May sound cliche or cheesy, but it was none of the above. It was perfect.  At dark, we headed inside and opted to be bums, watching TV on the couch. The day had been pretty overcast (making for an even more beautiful sunset) and some strong winds were hitting the sides of the house. Although this usually makes me uncomfortable, laying there with J-Dawg made me feel not only safe, but invincible.

We had what has become our normal routine of curling up on the couch, wrapped up in one another and browsing through channels trying to find something of interest. To be honest with you, I couldn't even tell you what we watched that night as I was all enveloped in the moment, thinking of nothing else but being with J-Dawg. His strong big hands held mine, and my always cold feet were tucked under his muscular thighs, being kept warm. 'What could be better?' I wondered.

Then he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. Tah-dah, the deal was sealed! That was it, it was over. I was putty in his hands. At that instant a 6 ft 2 Fresian sweetheart had won over this 5 ft 3 jaded non-believer. The only thing I could think to say at that instant was, "Will you buy me a goat?" Cause I knew my future no longer involved only me and my goat farm, but me, my goat farm and J-Dawg!

Prior to seeing J-Dawg that weekend, we were texting and discussing the difficulty that Dutch men must have when introducing their female friends and girlfriends to others. Female friend in Dutch is "vriend". Friends in Dutch is "vreinden".Girlfriend in Dutch is "vriendin".Although, Dutch people understand this well, to me, as an American, I found it confusing. So I asked, "Am I your vriend?" and laughed. He asked to discuss this later, because of texting's ability to completely allow for miscommunication.

After asking J-Dawg for my goat, we laid in each others' arms, enjoying the moment. Then, he squeezed me tightly and whispered "You're my girlfriend, right?" But the way he asked did not leave any room for discussion, it was more of a statement. I loved the way he was stern and insistent and I had no intentions of arguing with him for any reason.  I was excited the topic came up, but was confused as to where it came from.When I asked, he said "Just making clear that you're more than just mijn vriend."  I looked into his glistening eyes, and said, "Yes I am."

Gettin' to Know J-Dawg

After visiting his dairy, J-Dawg and I decided it wouldn't be such a bad idea to have a couple more meet-and-greets. (Actually, neither of us could wait to see each other again!) He decided he'd come out my way, but trying to find something to do in dry, arid, southern New Mexico isn't incredibly easy. Luckily, the thought of White Sands excited him.

I decided to meet him in a town about an hour away from my house, so it would cut his drive down. I was so concerned with getting done up that I  was late meeting him. I felt horrible! This was an interview of sorts, and my actions would leave him to believe I was unconcerned about punctuality. I'm always on time though! (*cough* Bull! *cough*). Not only was I running late, but my stomach was in knots, nervous to see him again. Once I finally arrived, after leaving J-Dawg to sit at the Chili's parking lot all by his lonesome, we had a huge reunion hug and smiled warmly at one another.

We went inside, were seated, and the waitress came to take our drink orders. Suddenly, I heard him reply "a glass of milk please." This may not sound like a shocker that a dairy kid orders milk, right? Yes, its really not, but for me, it had a whole different meaning. I have been teased my whole life for ordering milk with dinner while out at a restaurant. It used to embarrass my brothers and they'd ask me to "please order a grown-up drink" when we went out. Then each time, whether it be from my brothers, the waitress/waiter, or someone sitting at the table next to me, I'd hear cracks such as "would you like it in a sippy cup?", or "that's cute, you and my 3-year-old are drinking the same thing!"

Then, when I started dating S, he wasn't okay will me having a glass of milk with dinner either. But for different reasons... "Do you realize you can buy an entire gallon of milk for what you're paying for that one glass!? Get water, its free!" 'Fine, fine' I thought all the while wondering when someone would just let me be me, and not give me grief for it.

The waitress came back with our two large chilled glasses of milk. We each took big chugs and smiled at one another with milk mustaches. I must admit, I kept thinking "Milk really has done his body good." : ) We began eating our meals, and my my nerves had finally settled. We sat and chatted for about an hour and half and finished our meals. Feeling fat, dumb, and happy, we hit the road.

When we got back to my house, I poured us each a glass of wine and struck up conversation. I pulled some questions out of the 'get to know him better' file, and was excited about his responses. "Did he study beforehand?" I thought to myself. 'How could someone be so down-to-earth and handsome?'  The conversation went on and on and there was never a dull nor awkward moment. Before I knew it, it was 4 am, yet it felt like no time had passed by at all.Then, in an intensely romantic instant, our eyes had locked and I felt a first kiss coming on. I waited patiently, gazing into those steel blue-grey eyes of his. Time passed and nothing. My impatience caught up with me and I blurted out "Are you gonna kiss me or not?!" He had a huge grin and ignoring his shyness, leaned in for the sweetest, most passionate kiss I had ever experienced.

At 5am, sleep was a necessity before we'd even consider heading to White Sands. We snuck in numerous zzzz's and hit the snooze button like clockwork (hahaha). At about noon, we grabbed some lunch and rolled out. It was actually a really nice day to go check out the mountainous desert land made of gypsum. We parked his truck and found a spot with the least amount of tourists. We ran up and down the mountains, enjoyed the cool sand on our feet, and appreciated the cloud cover that brought cooler temps. It was a very relaxing and simple trip, making J-Dawg and I feel at complete ease with one another.



We decided it was time to head back to the house after a long day of playing in the sand. After cleaning up and removing all the gypsum from places it never should have been, we decided to lay low for the evening, and discuss what to do the following day--- Easter Sunday. I tried convincing J-Dawg all week that we could see each other another weekend, so that he could spend Easter with his family.  He said, "No, honestly it's fine. We can hang out on Friday and Saturday and I'll head back early Sunday morning. My parents won't mind, promise."

All the while feeling incredibly guilty that J-Dawg wasn't spending all of the Easter weekend with his family, I came up with a great plan. I was heading north to see my folks and grandparents, so I figured we could just leave super early in the morning and he could get on the road from Abq, because it would shorten his drive (this has become customary  - trying to figure out how to make the 5 hour drive shorter for one another).

Sunday morning rolled around, and neither of us were in the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed type mood. Instead we were feelin' quite content with the idea of time freezing and the world standing still, all to allow us to stay cuddled up on the couch together, in pj's, with ours cups of coffee. Although we were soaking up every minute of that moment, Easter was my favorite holiday and I was more than excited to share it with my family and ..... then *BAM*!!! the thought hit me... 'we're already late getting on the road, and I'm not gonna let J-Dawg leave without eating'.

I looked to him and asked "What time were your folks expecting you? Do we need to get you on the road?"
"No," he replied, in his sweet calm voice. "I told them I'd probably be home this afternoon or night. Why, what's up?" With fear in my voice, as it was only the second date, I asked "Would you like to have Easter dinner with my family?" Although I was scared, he replied with "Sure!" and was enthusiastic. Did he know what he had just signed up for?

I called my mother to let her know I was on my way and non-nonchalantly asked if she or the grandparents would mind if I brought a "guest". She knew exactly who I was speaking of, and immediately call my grandpa and said "Set the table for one more please".

We drove up to the folks, and I prepared myself for this first interaction between boy-who-I'm-sure-hung-the-moon-and-stars and retired-parents-who-play-with-dogs-for-a-living. My parents are very sweet and kind people, but are also skeptical about my choice in men (rightfully so- Exhibit A: Butthead, Exhibit B: S.). We sat down in the living room, and chatted for awhile, trying to warm everyone up to another. Mom was tense, worried she say the wrong thing. Dad's guard was up and was havin' a semi-"fuzzy brain" day (a story to be explained later).

J-Dawg was sweet and kind as ever, and never once changed into the "Ope, I need to impress the parents" mode. (I love that about him, what you see is what you get. He's straight up and honest, and although he is considerate of others' feelings, he is not obsessed with impressing everyone. He is who is he is.) He told my parents about the dairy, about growing up in Friesland, and was thoroughly excited that Dad was flipping back and forth between the History Channel and the Military Channel.

Mom said it was time to head up to Abq for Easter dinner. J-Dawg and Dad said their goodbyes and it was nice to meet you's.We got to the grandparents and introduced J-Dawg to them. It began to feel redundant, so I could imagine how he felt. Something I forgot to mention but you may have already suspected... J-Dawg has this beautiful European accent. But because of this, when he introduces himself and says his name in Frisian, people have a hard time understanding him. Especially my gun-deaf father and elderly grandparents.

After numerous attempts were made, my grandparents learned J-Dawg's name. We said prayer and then sat down to eat. Once again J-Dawg had to explain his life story to my family, yet everyone was very interested, and he didn't mind answering their questions. All was going well until my uncle, the car oil salesman, started to talk to J-Dawg about this oil he could sell J-Dawg for his tractors. Then the biggest no-no word of all hit J-Dawg's ears like a loud GONG! .... "organic".

Oh no, did my uncle really just try and sell the guy I'm trying to impress organic motor oil?!?!? Insert hand pressed to forehead in embarrassment. 

As a farmer who has always believed in doing things right, and only giving his cows the best, J-Dawg knows that 'organic' is just a word that's stamped on products to give them marketing and media hype. The USDA only recently came out with a "USDA Organic" label, to assure that products are actually organic. But whatever the case, I side right along J-Dawg, some farmers, ranchers and other agriculturalists who turn their nose to the new marketing blitz of labeling products "organic".



Anyway, back on topic. J-Dawg politely told my uncle "no, thank you but thanks". There was an odd, long awkward silence following, so I asked my grandmother (who suffers from dementia) how she was. She was doing pretty well that day and wanted to tell me about something my mom did, but forgot my mother's name. She pointed and said, "Yeah, her!" Yet, to all of our surprise, my grandma was right on the ball when she talked about "Traci's boyfriend" moments later. My mom wasn't offended at all, and thought J-Dawg was pretty dang special for my grandmother to remember who he was, and his name.

We finished dinner and had to get J-Dawg on the road. I walked him out, stood at his dark blue F-150, and questioned him on his current state. "Well that wasn't too terrible, was it? How are you?" Rubbing his stomach, and smiling, he replied "Full. And your family is very nice. I had a good time." Although I knew his sentiments were sincere, I wasn't understanding J-Dawg's adjectives- 'good' and 'nice'? To an American, these words mean 'mediocre'.  I worried he had reservations about me and my family.

Deciding to discuss it later, I walked to his door, hinting that he needed to get on the road. I didn't want him to leave and he didn't want to go, but I cared about his safety and wanted him to get home at a reasonable hour. The practical and considerate side of me told me to let go of his hand and let him leave, while the selfish and attached part of me would have stayed outside with him all night. He offered to take me back home with him and telling him no was like telling Charlie Sheen to stop being socially retarded-- very difficult. He said he would text me along the way  call me when he got home.

Little did either of us know, these difficult goodbyes would continue for the next three months, and would never get easier. These blogs will continue to chronicle my and J-Dawg's crazy weekend adventures, until one day (hopefully), we will no longer be 300 miles apart.

Meet - and - Greet with Dutchman

I was seeing everything from a new perspective and was no longer out to find "the one". I was actually looking forward to the idea of having my goat farm, and getting to keep my apple green KitchenAid mixer (whereas in previous times, I wouldn't have necessarily been allowed to keep my entire kitchen full of green kitchenware). As I enjoyed my new found freedom (and green toaster), I decided it was time to meet the man who had helped me receive my fourteen credits to graduate, (not to mention, the idea of visiting a dairy full of fresh milk and baby calves excited me). The only thing on my mind was finding a job doing advertising/ marketing with the dairy industry, so I was on a mission to learn as much as I could about the dairy process, however I could.

Sir Dutchman and I had made plans to meet at the gas station near his dairy, and 'Traci who gets lost in a paper sack' went to the wrong one (imagine that!). He drove to meet me at the incorrect location, and as his dark blue F-150 farm truck pulled up, my nerves began to do backflips. Everything that could possibly go wrong crossed my mind: he's a serial killer, he's a womanizer, he's only 5'1, he collects dolls. I began to sweat. Then, out stepped this incredibly handsome young man, 6'2, wearing Cinches (that fit incredibly well, I might add), and a ball cap with longer dark blonde curls coming out from under it. Then with a crooked smile, and deep steel blue-grey eyes smiling at me, I was putty. At that instant, I was very angry. I had just learned to accept being alone and had decided that being boy crazy was a waste of time, then out of the blue he shows up.

We drove back to his dairy and I was overwhelmed with excitement. The smells, the landscape, the pens filled with Holsteins, everything was just right. Growing up across from a dairy that was then converted into a feed yard, I loved the smell of agriculture. Cows and crops are a sure sign of being in a rural area, taking back roads to get where you're going, and enjoying the sunset while sitting on a tailgate with a cold beer. In my mind, this life was the picture of perfection. I couldn't help but wonder when (or if) I'd get to come back.

Intensely curious, I asked question after question about the milking process, crop rotation, yogurt-making, tractor pulls, pretty much any random question that could possibly be asked. I expected him to become irritated (as most people do when asked too many dumb questions), but instead he looked at me with appreciation. He was very patient, and not only would tell me about it, but show me. "This is the calf ranch, where the calves are being weaned." My heart melted at that exact instant when I saw the most adorable calf look up with its mouth and nose covered in frothy milk.

I loved being shown around the dairy. J-Dawg had so much pride, passion, and excitement for his job and for the dairy overall. Just listening to him explain how it all worked, and his parents' and siblings' roles, made me realize this was a family dairy of the highest caliber. If one portion of the dairy suffers, it hurts the rest of it, therefore they each watch out for the other and there's no "I" in this business, its all "we". Also, learning how patriotic J-Dawg is fascinated me. He explained his family's move to the States, and what a process becoming a legal citizen is. He  loves being in the U.S. and appreciates the freedoms and options it offers its people. He understands the principles of running a business, and is grateful for how much his family's dairy has been able to flourish since leaving the Netherlands.

After only a few hours with J-Dawg, I knew there was something very special about him. He was different than most all boys I had known. He sees the bigger picture of things, is appreciative of what he has, cares about others and himself, is very educated and well-read, and is very loyal to his friends and family. The next day of the "tour", I had met his family. I could tell a good upbringing played a pivotal role in his personality and stature. His family was incredibly kind to me, and I felt welcome and comfortable with them. It was time to head home, so I loaded up the car and we said our goodbyes. There was one of those awkward side hugs, unsure of what was appropriate. I drove off, unsure where all this was going, but was grateful for having met J-Dawg. I felt content and realized that there are still good people out there with good intentions. And I also breathed a sigh of relief knowing he didn't collect dolls.

Leaving Europe

J-Dawg continued to help me with my Dutch lessons for the remainder of the month while I was in Belgium. Although I thoroughly enjoyed my time there, I was ready to get back home to speak English, drive my own car, and say 'please' and 'thank you'. I prepared for the 13 hour flight from Brussels to Atlanta and didn't sleep the night before, thinking it would cause me to sleep on the plane. After a 70 Euro (Yikes!) cab ride  to the airport, I went through security and waited at my gate.

As the plane pulled in, I couldn't help but be completely overwhelmed with excitement as I was going home to see my parents, friends, pups, and then graduate! Things really felt as if they were falling into place. On the lengthy flight, I sat next to a rather odd young man who wasn't much of one to talk to strangers. In fact, he seemed afraid of me (ouch). Trying to find things to stay entertained, I read my Nook, looked at magazines, and then decided to begin journaling. With all the new-found smarts I had being a 'world traveler' and all, I thought it best to put pen to paper and do a recap of my trip.

I began writing furiously with thoughts just pouring from my pen. I realized while gone, that although I had missed family, friends and my dogs, that living alone wasn't so bad. Spending time by myself, traveling without someone, and getting to call all my own shots was incredibly comforting. While going to school in Oklahoma, I had similar experiences, but didn't have the same optimism about being alone. Living alone in OK really prepared me for being in a foreign country by myself, and although I've done nothing by the book, I would have done it again all the same.

In the midst of my writing, I had an epiphany!------- I don't need anyone! After being somewhat alone (my sis, her friend, and S were there with me for a part of the time), I realized that I enjoyed my time spent alone, and didn't need a boyfriend or best friend to always be there with me. I could be self-sufficient, and not be attached. It was at that point I decided the split between S and I needed to come sooner rather than later. If I'm gonna stay with someone for a long period of time, I should be able to see myself at the end of the aisle saying "I do" to him. But I didn't.

Upon returning back to the States, I had called it off with S. It was quick and pretty abrupt, but a quick break heals much faster than slow, painful, tearing. It was rocky in the beginning, but I had my mind made up. I knew we were done. It was time to situate my life, graduate and leave the heartbreak town I had outgrown. And besides, S was smart and would be much better off without me so I knew it would all work out for us both in the long run.

And then he text...

After dinner with my instructors, I returned back to my room at the bed and breakfast and saw the blinking red light on my horrible global phone rented through our phone company. And there it was..... a text message that read "Is this Traci?" Finally, mystery Dutchman had contacted me! I had no idea what he looked like (other than a very vague Facebook picture), what his story was, or even if he really was a good guy or if J.S. was just saying that. I was taking a total shot in the dark here.

I replied and began explaining my situation. Although I knew I needed to tell him why I was requesting his help, I was more so curious about his Dutch dairy and his story. We text a good amount that night, but because of the time difference our schedules tended to conflict. At the time of J-Dawg's first texting me, I had zero interest in boys and had just made the decision to only focus on graduation and finding a job. I was currently seeing S, a guy that I had gotten back together with after a very messy, awful relationship and breakup (Please don't ask why, I have no good reason nor excuses). But I knew I'd need to cut all ties with S, because I just couldn't see a relationship with him outside of college.

This was Our Backyard View

*Some back story: Growing up in a semi-rural background and being a proud member of the FFA and 4-H, agricultural education has always been a passion of mine. Also having one brother in the beef industry, and the other being a team roper, I've always had a picture in my mind of what I wanted my adult life to be like. In my dreams, it always consisted of living in a modest home, married to a small town man who has tons of ambition and shared the same passion and interests as me, and together, raise children and animals  in a small tight-knit community. 

Doesn't seem like too difficult of a request, right? Wrong. No matter how hard they tried, each boyfriend I dated was lacking some crucial attributes, whether it be ambition, warmth, or an understanding of the importance of agriculture. In both relationships with Butthead and S, I stayed as long as I could, but still always had a foot out the door, thinking "there's gotta be something more, gotta be more than this, I need a little less hard time, I need a little more bliss" (which wasn't fair to them).  I probably wasn't EXACTLY what they wanted either, so the fact that neither of those relationships worked out was probably a blessing for us all. 

Both times, both S and Butthead could feel my restlessness. Both relationships were somewhat similar, never mind the fact they shared the exact same birthday and had very similar personalities. On the verge of my and S' breakup, he had said "You are not gonna find your 6'2 Christian cowboy and move onto some huge plot of land. Give it up."  By March 2011, I had completely given up one the thought of finding "the one" and began to come to terms with the fact that I'd be living as an old lady with a goat farm. One by one I started naming my goats.. Sheila, Jo, Chester...

Each night, I continued talking to J-Dawg about my Dutch lessons and he helped me with my homework. The most fun part was sending him text messages in Dutch, and trying not to make any mistakes. He was also aware I was seeing S, and our talks remained completely platonic. We covered topics anywhere from the government and regulations in the Netherlands, to Charlie Sheen, to eating veal, to leadership skills, and everything in between. Although I didn't know too much about Sir Dutchman at this point, I knew he was very easy to talk to, and I realized I may have found a lifelong friend...

Found 6'2 Dutch Dairyman...

How'd I do it, you ask? Shear talent. Nope, just kidding. It's the grand 'ol saying of "It's not what you know, but who you know". J-Dawg (as my 6'2 Dutch dairyman has become known as thanks to my brother) and I have a mutual friend named... lets call just him J.S. (yup, that'll work). J.S. and I have known each other since we started college in the Fall of 06, and coincidentally enough, he was suite mates with my ex-boyfriend, Butthead (that's also a story for a later day). But through Butthead, J.S. and I became pretty good friends and he'd always stop by to say howdy and was always a blast to talk to.

Then in the Fall of 08, I was accepted to attend another university through the National Student Exchange (NSE) program, and was told I'd be going to OSU with another student from State. Before packing up my bags and waiving goodbye to home, I met with the NSE adviser to finalize the paperwork, payments, and situate all last minute things. During our meeting, I asked who the other "exchange" was... and damned if it wasn't J.S.! I was ecstatic to be in a new town with not only someone I knew, but someone I liked! I contacted J.S. and discussed our attending OSU together. Once there, we hung out a lot, went to lunch at some of the yummiest places in Stillwater, and got pretty rowdy goin' to the Tumbleweed all too often (especially the Calf Fry).

I came back to NMSU after only one semester there (still another story for a later time) while J.S. stayed for the entire year. He and I stayed in contact and hung out some once he got back. After I learned of my needing a second language and decided on Dutch, I talked with J.S. about it over dinner. He casually mentioned a buddy he had from back home that spoke Dutch. Then the details starting spewing out, "His family has a dairy", "he's such a good guy", "everybody loves him...". Immediately, the only thing I could think was, 'sign me up!'.

J.S. said he'd tell his buddy about me learning Dutch and see if he could get him to help me some (mind you this was the in the summer of 10 and I would be doing my semester abroad in Spring 11).  I was extremely excited, but more so grateful that someone my age in NM could speak Dutch! Suh-weet. A couple of weeks rolled by, and still hadn't heard anything. I took a leap and sent J-Dawg a message on Facebook, describing my situation. No reply for weeks. So, me being the persistent little booger I am, sent him another message. Not even taking into account that some people in production agriculture spend their time WORKING and not playing on Facebook, I was sad I wouldn't hear from Sir Dutchman.

I finally found the best study abroad program and got the finances situated. By this time I had given up on receiving help from J-Dawg, and began studying on my own before leaving for Belgium in March of this year. (See below posts). While in Europe, I got to visit the Netherlands and fell even more in love with it. The green grass, the cows, the chocolate, the Delft pottery, the windmills, everything about it was just beautiful, just as I had imagined. After sightseeing for a week, it was time to begin my Dutch courses, but little did I know, it wasn't Dutch, but Flemish (in Belgium, they speak a Dutch that has somewhat of a French influence and it much less guttural).

I struggled the first week there but was able to focus and think of only the Dutch language. J.S. had text me to ask how I was doing and I explained about being in Belgium and that my plans to learn Dutch had actually come through! Then, I thought I try ONE more time... "J.S., think you can ask your buddy again if he'd mind helping me?" Ding ding, third times a charm. My phone vibrated, the message from J.S. read "he's busy now but he said he'll text you later when he gets a chance..."