hang ups

well, it's been over a month since my last post, which means i've been here now over a month. hard to believe.

It's not like I haven't thought about the blog. I have lots of great ideas all the time of what to write about, but when the time comes and I'm sitting at my computer and thinking "time to make the blog", my mind goes blank. Or, I think of something funny and clever to write about but then I get sidetracked and read a story in the news about a person from Lousiana or Mississippi who has lost their family, their home, their pets, job... I think, "why does anyone want to hear about my silly life..." So, you can see how it goes.

But I have promised myself that I will be more diligent about recording the events in my life and my observations of life in a foreign country for those of you who are tuning in. It is indeed a strange place...

My amsterdam story of the week:

I spent yesterday afternoon hanging out with a fellow ex-pat, Alpha, and a woman that she knows who also just moved here. Susan is a filmmaker from NY, here on a Fulbright to do research on a film she's writing...

I bike across town, cutting through the central city on Aaron's advice, ended up horribly lost, and finally arrive a good half hour late, sweating, and eyes watering, to a tiny apartment on the east side of town. It's not the nicest area, but it's the only place that Susan could find that she could afford and where she could register her legal residence. (Loads of people here sub-lease their places illegally, so if you have to be legit it can really limit your options).

Susan has made delicious homemade chicken soup and is sharing her organic market apples and brownies she'd bought and telling us her woes related to her still somewhat shaky residential status. Her 23 year old landlord disappeared for 3 days after she asked him for a working heater. And while there are no bowls nor a can opener, there is an eggcup. You get the picture. She was also telling us about her downstairs neighbor, who she has learned likes to blast techno music on the weekend nights, starting about midnight and well into the wee hours, like 4 am. It's happened both Friday and Saturday nights that she has been there.

Well, after the first night, she left him a note taped to his door, just explaining the situation and asking for his number so that she could just call if things got out of hand. She wasn't very keen on the idea of heading down in her pj's to knock on the door. His response was that she should call information if she wanted his number, left on a sticky note that she found when she went knocking the second night.

He must have had a change of heart as he came up on Sunday to speak with her in person while we were there visiting. He wouldn't come in, so we could hear but not see him. We had to practically stuff our fists into our mouths to keep from laughing out loud over what he said next.

He goes on to tell her that the weekend nights are his time to take Extacy, but he is really very quite the rest of the week. He explains that he has no control over how loud his music his; he only listens to what the drugs tell him to do so he won't be able to turn it off, even if it is late into the night. He tells her she should just come down and have some drinks and maybe something esle with them so she will forget about it, and then he offers to bring her some earplugs. Susan explains that she already has some, has been using them them and that even with her own headphones on and her music playing, she can't sleep when the foor is vibrating. Alpha and I having fits at the table just out of sight of the front door.

something you just would never see in the states...