This morning (err, noon-ish) I set out to bike around the Wetlands northeast of Amsterdam proper. There are wonderful bike paths through fields, marshes, and villages for endless miles. I took a 37km route to end at the dike where my aunt's concert was performed. On the way I took many lovely pictures, though the light would have been better earlier or later in the day. I've never seen so many swans in my life! They were nesting along the canals, paddling with their young, and flocking in great gaggles of thirty or more on one of the lakes.
My aunt's concert was lovely- she plays the viola and was part of a trio comprised of a pianist and soprano. Unfortunately, I spent most of it with a growing allergic reaction and ended up itchy and shaking from a combination of wind and grass pollen, bug bites, sun exposure, exhaustion, and stress. Some stupid mosquito (or something) massacred my face. When I woke up this morning I had three bites on my forehead, which had been there for days, but this evening my whole face is covered in itchy bites. I look like I got into a fight with a nest of bees.
I decided, therefore, to go incognito into town tonight and just walk about the Red Light district and maybe smoke a joint. Oh, I forgot to mention that earlier in the evening my aunt and I visited Wynard Fockink, the loverly schnapps bar near the Dam Square. Highly recommended! In any case, before going into town I decided I wanted to avoid attention so I dolled myself up as little as possible except for a little makeup to prevent myself from looking like I had a run-in with a nest of ants. Meh.
But I had barely locked my bike when I was discovered by someone from the conference! Funnily, Amsterdam is still small enough that this had happened no less than three times in the course of five days. Hmm. I'd just about settled into my groove when he found me and we chatted for a few minutes but not without the customary "we're off to do (xyz) and you should join us!" I hadn't planned on it, but I got kind of distracted by it. So, long story short, though he meant no harm, I kept focusing on whether or not I ought to go meet up with them rather than relaxing through my walk.
I'd just decided to go find them at Club Eleven when another something happened to throw me off guard. God, sometimes just to be left alone! Some weird guy from South Africa decided he wanted to chat with me, so I let him for a moment because I didn't want to start the conversation with "fuck off, whatever you're selling or whatever you want, I don't need it." He tried to chat me up so I gave him some bullshit name and schpiel, but I was thorougly thrown off guard when he said "Why are you alone? Don't you have any friends?" Fuck you! Seriously. I know it's just a line but it pissed me off. Of course, this was the lead up to "I'm alone too. And I'm looking for companionship. You know what this means?" Hah. To which I replied, "Yes. But not with me," followed by a series of "no," "no," and "no," in response to his attempts to prove he could show me a good time.
All in all, it was more interesting than distressing and that in itself didn't really bother me, but it did make me feel vulnerable. So I wasn't in the same mood when I set out for the club, and by the time I got there, I was ready to turn around and go home. So I did.
I didn't want noise or small talk or strangers. I especially didn't want any more unwanted advances, and certainly not looking like I do right now.
But as I left I was kicking myself. People I'd met had invited me to a club. In Amsterdam. On my last night. And I was leaving! Where was my sense of adventure? What was I missing out on?
I can give any number of good reasons/excuses for not going, but it all amounts to three: 1) it's not my scene, 2) I look like crap, 3) I don't know or trust people enough to enjoy myself. And the third is a real shame, which is why I was brooding all the way home.
So I didn't smoke a joint in Amsterdam. Boo on me. But I'll use my last twenty Euros cash to pay for my bike rental tomorrow morning and I won't still be stoned when I wake up early. (Plus, c'mon, I have a huge stash at home, so what the hell.) I did see hookers and I did drink good beer- not a single Heinekin or Amstel light. I'm coming home with a ton of photos, two bags FULL of souvenirs, a lovely tan, and a face full of proof that my blood is deeeelicious. Despite the fact that I am an ovbious lamer and homebody, that, my friends, is damnwell good enough for me.
Posted on July 15, 2006 @ 4:56 PM | 3 comments
Comments:
A huge stash at home eh? I'm stoppin' by YOUR HOUSE on our way up to Anacortez... ;-)
By 
Lazy Lightning, at
5:36 PM, July 15, 2006
Aws, I am your frieeeend!
Pickups from random strangers are lame too. I will be honest and say that I was a tit irritated at your previous posts regarding unsolicited compliments. At the time it seemed pretentious to me, as tho you were saying: "Oh what a botha', isn't it tough being gorgeous and getting compliments?" But today I was reminded by some slimy idiot on the street say to me: "Hay... you look cute today" as I rode by that there is a large, unspoken difference between a nice compliment and a creepy compliment. So to hell with all of those creepy comeons by random strangers.
And who says you have to have a great time during your last night in Amsterdam? You had several great days of vacation and are in no way obligated to fulfill a social stereotype if you don' wanna.
Othx4tehpostcard2!
By 
Rachel, at
7:21 PM, July 15, 2006
I have to agree with Rachel, a 12 hour flight with a hangover is absolutely no fun whatsoever. Also, if you think about it your body is about to travel halfway around the known planet, a bigger feat than Columbus, Lewis & Clark, and Ponce De Leon combined, who the hell would want to feel like shit for that?
By cyan, at
10:19 PM, July 18, 2006
