Hiatus

Time for a hiatus.

Valentine tidbits

Hey, it's Valentine's Day! Although I am hardly a fan of commercialized love, there are a few things I've come across in the past few days that have made this Valentine's Day memorable.

* I was thrilled to see that Jarod, the quirky history buff behind Jarod's Forge is back from a hiatus. He chose to return with a delightful bit on the history of Valentine's day. Read it!

* My all-time favorite ecards website (someecards.com) is full of snarky, hilarious cards to send people that have a good sense of humor. Of course they have a fabulous V-day section, like "You make my heart beat entirely too fast." Which reminds me I better send a few before the sun sets.

* Wouldn't it be romantic to get married on Valentine's Day? In Amsterdam? You can, tonight, and then you can throw it all away tomorrow! Wed & Walk lets you marry whomever you want (friend, neighbor, ex, lover) but the marriage is only valid between 6 and 10pm (and costs 30 Euros). Just think of all the couples that will soon be experiencing a brief marital bliss! My fellow blogger Invader_Stu wrote about this first, and is taking the plunge in just a few hours. I can't wait to hear the report on engagement, marriage, marital bliss, and marital dissolution.

A part of history

Super Tuesday is ancient history. I voted, and felt that thrill of participation and a nice warm fuzzy of assurance that I made the right choice. But I'm still debating how to best participate in the campaign. I really want to do something. Maybe I'll live in a bunker in some far away state for a few months later this year, licking envelopes and making calls. Maybe I'll use my SkypeOut balance up and do it from the comfort of my own home. Maybe I'll stay in the Netherlands and just teach it, which is what I've done the past two fall semesters. Time and opportunity will tell.

Long, long ago (2 1/2 years to be exact), I said that I wasn't a Democrat. That's still true, though I'm already snickering at the young and hasty words written in that post. I don't like the labels, but with time I realize that even if the two party system isn't ideal one must participate within it or forever be a recluse. I'm catering toward the opinion that change often comes from within. But I think it mainly has to do with the overwhelming sense of hope that this campaign has brought.

A few weeks ago, CNN was running a debate advertisement. With exciting music playing in the background, they first showed the then four Republican candidates. Four white men, up on stage, shaking their fists at each other. Politics as usual. Then the picture changed, and I saw Obama and Clinton. An African American man and a woman. And it really hit me. Wow, cool! That's who we get to choose from, and from one whole side of this two-party system! At least in that moment, whether I liked one or the other more is beside the point. That visual represents a major landmark for the U.S. The best two choices are different than any before. There is a huge possibility this generation will see the most powerful political figure in the U.S. as also representing a group thus far excluded from that honor. What a boundary to cross!

Sure, I have a preference. But it's hard to harbor ill will towards either in such an atmosphere. And even way over here in the Netherlands, I want to be a part of it. So someone please find me something to do, other than donating money!

Mac or PC?

Is Obama a Mac and Clinton a PC?

Hmmm. Guess who I'm voting for tomorrow in the Super Tuesday Global Presidential Primary...

Must maintain the required safe temperature!

Ever stay in a hotel where you feel like they really don't trust you? Below is a tidbit from a recent Holiday Inn stay in the UK. I had purchased a yogurt from the supermarket (breakfast at the hotel was about $25, no thanks) and went to open the mini bar to keep it cool overnight. It was locked, and this is the sign that greeted me (click on the photo to enlarge):


My favorite part? "This bar is for the sole use of mini bar products and under no circumstance should it be used to store food or any other products because the bar will not maintain the required safe temperature."

What was in the bar? Soda, liquor and potato chips.

Can you imagine the damage that my yogurt would have caused? Sheesh.

La Place

Today I’m a reluctant café blogger. I’m finally on a working streak and to uproot organization and exit my warm, cozy home seems counterproductive. But I’m committed to living the motto that variety can only stimulate creativity. I hope I’m right.

I’m in La Place, one of the many in Leiden and one of the (no doubt) thousands of La Place sites in the Netherlands. It’s a buffet-style eatery, but much more upscale than anything I grew up referring to as a buffet. As a Midwestern girl, I think “Old Country” in front of “Buffet” and picture obese couples piling mashed potatoes and dinner rolls onto their plates. Here, though, freshly blended fruit juices, sautéed vegetables, made-to-order pizzas and pasta dishes abound. And this is one of the less-amply stocked locations.

And unlike my rather laid-back experience last week, this place is humming with activity. There are about 50 lunch stragglers hanging out in the vicinity. No one looks particularly hurried to battle the gray, windy day, and the hum of their conversation increases as they contemplate another coffee. The La Place staff seems busy cleaning up from the earlier rush, with glasses and plates crashing together at regular intervals from behind the scenes. A pop music station plays in the background and is only interrupted by the occasional “don’t miss this great deal” announcement from the department store below.

There are a few other solitary visitors. One is a male about my age with a large book spread out before him. But he’s not making much of an effort to read it. Instead, he alternates gazing around the room with playing with his mobile phone. Occasionally he acknowledges the book and his jaw sets in a frustrated, agitated manner. He scans for a moment before sighing and staring again off into the distance, perhaps contemplating the very mystery that haunts my days: Why can’t I concentrate?!?

The birthday weekend

Back from Paris.

Mona Lisa? Check.

Climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower? Check.

Soaking in the essence of Notre Dame with the Christmas tree still on display? Check.

Stuffing myself with croissants? Check.

Observing the culture, fashion, language, and hum of Paris?

Feeling very content about turning 30? Check.