I love my new camera.

Top: Lunch at Le Procope in Paris with my wonderful friend Andrea.

Bottom: Waiting for our southbound train at réamur-sébastopol.

I have more lovely photos, but little patience to wait for them to upload onto this page. I bought a Canon Rebel in order to better document my life abroad and today was the first time I fiddled around with the enhanced photo software. Needless to say, it was endlessly entertaining and I spent the majority of my evening altering photos rather than preparing for my exams (which, unfortunately, insist on happening in 2 weeks).

I must be more diligent at posting onto here. It's funny how there will be moments throughout the day when I think to myself, "I really wish I could write about what's happening right now" and I'll start to compose a mental draft in my head of what I'll write later. Of course, hours later when I'm finally in front of a computer, the inspiration has long abandoned me and this poor blog remains blank. I suppose that's why people have Twitters and small, handheld, beepy machines that log you onto the internet anywhere.

Anyway, I was going to write about Paris, but my good friend Theresa already has such a thorough and magnificent entry about it on her blog, so (because I am a lazy butt) I am referring all of you to her. We're together most of the time, so we have pretty much the same experiences throughout the day, except Theresa is much more eloquent and has a much longer fuse than I do. Go visit: podclock.blogspot.com

It is 2 am and I have set the unrealistic goal of getting to the library at 9 am. HA! However, I'm completely tuckered out and will be turning in for the night.

A plus!

O.

ONE MORE THING ABOUT THE DUTCH.

And then I'm done complaining about them forever (or at least a few days.):

The Netherlands can be summed up as follows: a nation so boring and useless, they had to LEGALIZE PROSTITUTES AND DRUGS to convince people to come visit.

I just worked myself into a tizzy and I don't know why. Scared.

Sous le ciel de Paris marchent les amoureux.

It's been such a long time since I've updated my blog, and given how EVERYTHING is in Dutch, I momentarily forgot how to post new entries. Scary.

Anyhow! I was in gay Paree this weekend and it made me realize three things: 1) I am an idiot for choosing not to study in Paris; 2) Everyone, even the bedraggled gypsies, is fabulous in Paris; 3) Even the FRENCH are MORE EFFICIENT AND FRIENDLIER than the Dutch. That just goes to show you how despicable the Dutch are. I bear such intense dislike for everything Dutch, it's outrageous. And mind you, they have EARNED my distaste.

One (out of MANY) example: The other day, it was raining and the rubber cover on my handle-bar randomly slipped off, causing me to lose my balance and plop off of my bike. I gloriously crashed onto the floor in front of about 5 Dutch people, mostly male. Not a SINGLE ONE got up to see or even ask if I was okay. Les GROSSES ESPECES DE SALAUDS! Subsequent to my crash, I suffered a concussion, was almost run over by a tram, and had a stationary bicycle fall onto me, causing me to fall again. AND later that evening, a scooter ran over my friend Dave and the driver didn't even look back to see if he was even alive. I don't even know where to begin with these people. It is a cold and unfriendly nation, too busy defending and succoring some of the worst war criminals of the past two decades to be bothered coming to the aid of someone so trivial as a tourist.

I don't know how my wonderful Paris entry turned into a rant about the Dutch. But I promise to write back WITH pictures, capturing some of the best moments from the weekend!

A bientot!

O.

Gendarmes at the Classroom Gates

There's always a gaggle of angry security guards in suits blocking the doors to classrooms. How about instead of being completely useless, we try and stop bike thieves, laptop thieves, purse thieves, just any of thieves?

What is the point, is what I'd like to know. It's bad enough I have to be in school without being harrassed by useless guards.

Dutch train transport = Hot mess.

A few words of advice for those weary travelers don't know any better, when a Dutch train schedule tells you that a trip will take X amount of time, make sure you add another 1 to 5 hours to it. Getting home today from Brussels was a hot tranny mess nightmare. What should've taken 2 hours wound up taking us 4 extra hours and 5 different train changes in a bunch of random cities with names I can't even begin to pronounce. And all the while, I'm trying to breathe out of both my nostrils and pop my ears (I'm getting over a cold) and trying not to karate chop the pair of cackling Dutch banshees sitting two rows away from me.

But other than that, Belgium was wonderful. I'm too beat to elaborate further, but promise to update soon. Also, look out for a guest post by Dave Gartypants!

Vespa riders are cheaters.

That being said, I really wish I had a scooter. Biking with a giant backpack laden with a laptop and three giant readers is a lot tougher than it seems. I made a lovely first impression in class today, redfaced and wheezing from my cycle commute.

I sat in the very back row because it was the only spot with an electrical outlet and I wound up sitting next to a helpful Dutchman named William (of Orange?) who basically had to walk me to where the bookshop was since I'm a neurotic American who can't seem to find anything. (Yeah, books! Those definitely didn't figure into my budget. Whoops.)

Afterward I had to do the crazy commute back and the only thing keeping me upright on my seat was the thought of ice-cold orange fanta waiting for me back home. But I'm home now and ready to sprawl face-down on my couch, fanta in hand.

FietsPiraat and 9 Euro bike tire changes

So I've decided to start a blog to chronicle my semester abroad rather than attempting to write 15 different e-mails saying basically the same thing to everyone back home. Also, the facebook status update only lets you type in like 150 words each time anyway, so who wants word limitations?

I'm in Amsterdam, boondoggling away my last year of law school. So far, life has been full of boring-as-shit orientations that go on and on for hours about how I shouldn't buy bikes off junkies or pee on the sidewalk, etc. Do I know where my first class is? No. Do I know where I can buy Tamiflu when the swine flu hits Europe? No. So basically, all the orientations have been 10 hours of my life I'll never get back.

Anyway, onto today's events! Yesterday I found that as a result of a bike collision with a stupid pedestrian, my back tire went flat.

The progression of my conniption fit upon discovering the tire:

1) Frantic running to my RA's room.

2) Scaring the bejeezus out of him with "I have a big emergency, my fiets! my fiets is kaput!!"

3) RA rushing out in his pj's "What happened to it??"

4) My tire is flat!! What do I do?

5) RA giving me a really dirty look and telling me this happens all the time and to basically take it to the shop and stop bothering him.

So today I wandered up Spaarndammerstraat (why everything in Dutch 20 letters long, I don't know.) to the FietsPiraat--that's bike pirate to the rest of us--hoping it would take 15 minutes to repair. Hélas, this really does happen all the time and there were like 10 bikes ahead of me so I had to pick it up before they closed today. But 9 Euro later my bike is back, my bumblebee bell is in its rightful place, and my bike rolls smoother than before. Just in time for me to develop another bruise on my bum in the shape of my bike seat!

Talk soon, tschüss!