The Break-Up

This is funny; I'm sitting smack dab in the middle of a movie theatre, completely alone, surrounded only by rows of plush red seats and soft jazz. I needed some peace and quiet, some time for my brain to sleep, some nothing. So I catch the tram and ignore my neighbor waving from across the street because if I miss this movie, these 90 minutes of witty banter and cliche heart tumbles and faceless actors I just might stick my head out of the next tram's window. But I'm here, here with my smuggled chocolate chip cookies, completely alone. I sought solitude and found it. Which is funny because now all I want is this movie to begin so I can hear some human voices to fill the empty spaces in these seats.

Also, I might go to Belgium tomorrow.

June 17

Today I went to Leiden -- a bustling little college town full of boats and markets and the oldest university in Holland. I bought pecans and smiled at the old people.

Bas the neighbor

Austin, Lauren & I were walking around the city (actually, looking for a place that sells my face medication; simple, but I had to go to a "pharmacy" where the employee obtained a tube from a locked cabinet.. scary). We were near the flat when a guy approaches us & said hello. He was Dutch & sort of punkish & young & told us his name is Bas. We all smiled & stared & blinked at him, & I racked my brain, trying to figure out if we had met him before since he was so comfortable to walk up & speak to us in English. He noticed our blank stares and said he lives in the flat across the street from ours & recognized me since he always sees me looking out the bedroom window. He said, "I always watch you, wondering what kind of woman you are. Now I see you & you have kids."

Of course I am embarrassed & immediately wonder what kind of oddities he has witnessed me do, like pick my nose or clip my toenails or do my ballet stretches. I have noticed his flat, he has graffiti art everywhere & aqua curtains.

Later Austin told me he didn't like him since he seemed bossy. "Bas the bossy," he called him.

Peeping Tom is probably more fitting, but I kept that little antidote to myself.

TONIGHT I:

decided to buy a bike and form a committee caleed the Old Dutch Feminists and have a slogan like "Young and Earnest" and stared at a statue that is a deep wine hue with rain drizzling down like blood red streaks and watched birds hatch and their parents who build and build their nest like home with wood and leaves and trash and scraps of metal and walked home in the rain minus one umbrella

Marlbolo moments

It doesn't even begin to get dark here until 10 pm. It's strange how much my body responds to light & dark. It is also strange how fit/unfit Europeans are. They walk everywhere. They drink green tea. And I still can't help but stare in amazement (half situation, half coordination) at the people peddling like pros for miles on their bikes with a cigarette dangling from their lips, puffing & peddling, puffing and peddling their way to strong calves & weak lungs. My favorite though are the women on bikes. They are truly talented: high heels, business skirts, briefcases, phones, kids, wine & ice cream -- there is nothing a Dutch lady & a bike can't handle.