I've had a year or two hiatus--not good in the blogosphere, where everything changes like a New York minute--but now I'm back, re-establishing my blog and observations. What can I say? I was gone, out of the country, on relationship sabbatical, looking at other horizons, particularly those in Amsterdam's sister city, San Francisco. But now I have landed again in Amsterdam, finding the grass is indeed very green on this side of the canal. Considering it's spring, greener still.
It's Monday, and I find myself suprisingly in an up mood. Because I Love having a bike as my legs, love shopping for food at the Aldi, buying 15 items for roughly ten euros, love that I can now understand this guttural language, which once sounded like Elfin to me, love chewing solid bread and I love, love, love that I have the time to consider the world outside my window rather than holding down two jobs, like I did in New York City.
I also love that my 57-year old neighbor can think of nothing better to do than to smoke a joint and teach herself how to paint. "Work?" she screwed her face up when I ran into her earlier today on the steps of our apartment building. "I've worked my whole life and raised a family. Now I don't need anything but time to enjoy myself. Well, maybe a man," she hesitated, then winked at me, closing the door.
