I spent this past weekend in Amsterdam with Hannah, Kelly and Jen. Kate, Alex and Vinny were there also. Oh, and we ran into Mo with two of her friends as well as a couple other familiar faces from the program. What, are there like three countries that everyone goes to?
Anyway, the city was gorgeous and dark and quaint and seedy. I immediately thought of the Polar Express with a subversive strain of Edgar Allen Poe. In other words, I want to move there someday. Or at least have a home on the canal.
That home would have to be far away from Hans Winkler, the ''hotel'' we stayed at. I use ''hotel'' loosely because the space was what I imagine Guantanamo Bay to be. After the two guys who shared our room showed us their bed-bug bites, we were psychologically inflicting all sorts of itching onto our bodies. Then, I was lucky enough to find two bugs in my suitcase. We raised hell, passed on free drinks at the bar but accepted room changes. The second rooms were not much better. Hannah and Kelly's had a stained glass Jesus on the window, complete with angels. The room Jen and I switched to came equipped with the biggest, thickest brown spider I have ever seen outside of the zoo... or Petsmart.
Needless to say, sleep was at a minimum. And the bare-minimum of the hotel meant we simply had to pamper ourselves in other areas. That being food. Come sunday, Jen and I consumed within the course of an hour and a half: one space cake (shared), one large sandwich (her), one large carrot cake muffin (me), two belgian waffles with ice cream and confectionary sugar, two large noodle dishes at Wok to Walk, one white chocolate bar (her. gross), one half milk chocolate bar (me), one half dark chocolate bar (me).
We wandered the canals at night, trying to keep ourselves alive amidst the onslaught of cars, trams and a thousand bicyclists. Kelly noticed some ''pretty balloons'' which upon closer inspection proved to be inflated penis suits.
After the last traces of THC wore off and the final noodles in my Pad Thai were slurped up, I couldn't wait to get out. Traveling is starting to get on my last nerve, a shitty, ungrateful complaint I know.
Croatia in four days.
