um

I've discovered the true inherent problem with a blog...and that is that when you're life is normal and you're hanging out with all your friends, you have nothing to put on it. It's not quite the same when all I have to write about is evenings at the theater watching plays that involve drag queens and alien devil boys and trying to catch up on all the deadlines I ignored while I was gallavanting around the Continent versus bitterballen and strange Danish boys. But I'll try.

I can at least update you on the status of my furniture...the movers have offered me $410 to make up for the fact that they broke everything. And I accepted. Cause after all it's just Ikea (not that they know that...I have have fibbed, but just a little bit). It won't replace everything, but it'll replace the stuff that I can't hide and maybe even buy some dinner and cocktails some fine evening.

But that's boring stuff.

I'll try and be more interesting in the future. I'll try and be half as entertaining as "Invasion of the Devil Boys" or whatever it was called...

it's hot and i'm tired of moving things

For those of you in the North East, and possibly most of the northern half of the world where it is summer, if you haven't noticed it's hot outside. Very, very hot. And I know that as children we used to all lie in the cool shade of trees, looking up at the light blue sky filtered through the leaves, day-dreaming of the day when we grow up, and on a day just like that balmy afternoon of our youth, we have to move around lots of heavy boxes and furniture.

Dreams do come true.

But I'm almost done, so close to being finished and never having to move again...that is unless I choose to. And what are the chances of that happening?

Or at least I would be close to being completely unpacked if all my furniture hadn't been broken by the movers. OK, maybe not all, but pretty close. For those of you not following my every move on facebook, the final tally is 3 pieces of furniture declared destroyed, 2 others fixed, 1 other off to the moving company's repair guy's shop, and 1 just not worth fixing (all it has is some weird damage on the inside of the cabinet). Not to mention the myriad of scrapes and dents in everything else. I didn't need furniture, right? I mean, I like living out of cardboard boxes.

And for all of you that know me so well, you would think, oh Lord protect that moving company, they cannot possibly be prepared for the wrath that is about to be unleashed on them...and truth be told, I didn't channel Super Bitch, because as I mentioned before it's just too hot to be angry. Thinking about getting angry makes me want to take a ice cold shower. And so now I wait until they decide how much money they're going to give me, and hopefully they cut me a fat check before it gets cool outside and I once again have the energy to express emotions again.

But for those of you who are curious, here's some of the highlights of what was once my furniture...enjoy!






This was my desk chair. It's solid wood. It used to have 4 legs. But I guess that was at least 1 too many, you can see the separatist leg just at the bottom of the picture...


these used to be straight. Promise.


just a little busted in...I didn't want a back to my desk drawers, really..


the back of this shelving/drawing unit was so bashed in you couldn't open the drawers in the front. The repair man removed the back completely. Now you an at least open the drawers, but then everything falls out of them through the back. Very useful.

Everyone this is my new apartment, new apartment this is everyone I know, and some I don't.

nerves

Tomorrow morning I close on my apartment. Yes, like many of my fellow Americans, I have taken advantage of the economic downturn and am joining the ranks of "adults" with equity. (More quotes, different words)

I scheduled the movers, I have to jump through hoops to turn on my electricity (thanks to the management company doing some very bad things), and I'm so horrified by the cost of cable that I may have to finally join Netflicks...

I can barely breathe.

Nothing like an impulse buy turning into a six months of paperwork and a permanent residence....a permanent residence! HA!

oh right, London

For some reason I keep on completely neglecting London here. No disrespect to the beautiful city, I'm just too busy being social and drinking to actually remember to write anything down...so, um, what have I done in London...

We had another barbeque. I grilled very fatty pork chops that started a fat fire. They were excellent. No eyebrows were lost.

What was lost however is half of my hair. Because what would be the point of an artstar international summer tour if I returned not looking a little more discotheque and a little less 31. Yes, after said barbeque and Lord knows how many bottles of wine and champagne (cause that's how we do it in London) we all thought it would be a great, no, an awesome idea to finally give me the mohawk that my soul has longed for since I started growing my hair.

And it looks good.

My parent's would disagree with that statement, but sixteen people on facebook can't be wrong.

None the less, with my new coiffure I return to Brooklyn to sign my soul away for a permanent home. No more moving, at least not for years, and now I'll have "equity". So scary.

I can't be a homeonwner, I have a mohawk.

last 24 hours in the Netherlands

As with all good things, even this party of my summer adventure has to come to an end...sigh.

So I figured here's my last chance to go see a little more of this crazy country, so why not do a field trip to the see Haarlem and the North Sea? Yeah! Field trips! And seeing as Holland is the size of Central Park, it takes mere minutes to get anywhere. OK, maybe Holland's a little bigger than Central Park, since the train takes a whopping 30 minutes (which is how long it takes me to get into Manhattan)...

Anyway, welcome to Zandvoort aan Zee. Think of a cross between Jersey Shore and the English coast, without the boardwalk and carnival games and replacing those are pannekoekken and bungalos. Brown, crisp water, millions of cheesey restaraunts and bars, lounges to rent, and sand as far as the eye can see. And if you look off to the left, there are dunes. Not dunes like I think of, endless sand and windswept mounds...no, no, no, this is crazy beautiful (not that desert dunes aren't beautiful). Everything is covered in low plants and briars, which are chock full of rabbits, and it goes on forever. You can bike through it and apparently wind up in the Den Haag, or so the sign says, which is why I compared the Netherlands to a large park. If you can bike to another major city, it's a little strange to me.

Needless to say, the beach was so wonderful, the water was so nice to put our feet in (except where there were bunches of dead blue jelly fish the size of my head- for real not like the raspberries) that we never made it to Haarlem. But the train station looks nice from the tracks.

After a day in the sun, watching the sunset with a pitcher of sangria we returned to beautiful Amsterdam where we all had one last cocktail at a neighborhood bar, and as we were enjoying our last beer together, we all noticed the glowing red sign across the canal that read "LIVE SEX SHOW"...and we thought why not? I'd been in Amsterdam for 4 1/2 weeks, Liesl had been there for a year, Claudio had been there for almost 2 years (although he'd been to a peep show before), we figured we can't possibly leave Amsterdam without sampling the live sex shows!

It was horrible. Do not go to the Live Sex Show...for 25 Euro we got 2 drinks and I've watched algebra lectures that left me more turned on than that. Both group of boys that stipped down for me out of the blue we're sexier than that, at least they were funny. But I guess we had to do it. If I wasn't going to smoke, I had to support the seedier industries somehow.

And then I had to get up bright and early in the morning to catch a stupid early flight to London, where I continue my jet setting life style only with champagne instead of Belgian beer. Oh, it's good to be me.

Anyway, I love Amsterdam, I love the Netherlands, I miss everyone I've met, but I expect to see you all again in Brooklyn. It was awesome, I can't wait to go back, New Year's anyone? Or there's always next summer, maybe I can convince them to give me the residency again...gives me a little more time to work on my Dutch.