An American Family in Amsterdam

I'm struggling to really put all the pieces that somehow re-create Thursday morning through an hour ago. I spent about 48 hours in Amsterdam, and 8 hours sleeping. Maybe. My first experience with visitors was pleasant, as expected. Though it can be a little much to handle having numerous visitors on consecutive days, as the large bags under my eyes may attest.
I headed to Amsterdam late Thursday morning to meet up with Brandon, a friend from Madison studying in Copenhagen, and a few of his buddies. It was their second day in Amsterdam, and they preferred to spend it just like their first day; bouncing between pubs, cafes and coffeeshops. As you can imagine, an entire afternoon and evening of this can wear you out, so by 23:00 my mind was getting a little mushy and I remembered I had to be at Schipol to meet Jordan and Kristi at 23:30. And I was in the south centrum of Amsterdam. Needless to say, their plane was a bit behind, so I of course was right on time. Unfortunately the trains weren't running our way, so it was after 2 before we made it back to Utrecht to crash.
We made it to Amsterdam in time to catch an early tour, which, led by a middle-aged Irishman, turned out to be very good. Then we caught the Rijksmuseum, which is better every time I see it. After a beer (or wine) at Rookie's we crossed town to the Red Light and made a stop at Funny Guy's. Enough said. We picked up some frites from Vlaamse, which were an instant hit with Jordan, who later secretly confided in me that he'd like to spend the entire next day consuming frites, or at least most of it. Hard to argue with that kind of enthusiasm.
Back in Utrecht, Barry cooked up some tacos, we enjoyed some wine, and partied with the internationals until late in the evening.
I was having a great time with the visitors, so I drank my beer accordingly. When Kristi woke me at 8am to reserve the hostel in Amsterdam, my phone conversation was damn near incoherent. Then we overslept a bit, and in the end made it to Amsterdam by 14:00. For only 3 euros, we bought the right to walk uncomfortably through Amsterdam's very own Sex Museum, which is about 1 part museum, and 9 parts porn. "That's the most porn I've ever looked at in one day." Jordan Gindt.
We caught the metro to Amsterdam ArenA, which is in a very modern section of Amsterdam. The tour was slightly dimmed by the presence of a Dutch bachelor party and the obvious fact that the tour guide was not a Communications major, but it was impressive nonetheless.
After a dusky stroll through the Red Light, it was time for the Falish Family reunion. Also, it was my sister Katie's birthday, and St. Patrick's Day. Sounds like a setting for fun.
I think there are more Argentinan Grills per capita in Amsterdam than anywhere else in the world, so I thought it was time to try one. So good. Steak. Beer. Steak. Yum.
After dropping the young ones at the hotel, the adults hit the town. Some of us hit it a bit harder than others. Katie (cough) Jeanne (cough cough). We were out until 2:30, and ended the night with some falafel, which was wonderful. Kristi, Jordan and I made it back to the hostel in time to sleep for like 43 minutes before our 4am wake-up call. This was fine, since I'm in full support of taking advantage of the low-cost airfare that comes with a 6:15 flight. Two train rides later, I was performing something that must've looked like the death march back to my place, in the typical Dutch drizzle.
I had a little over an hour to sleep before I had to pick up the family at Utrecht Centraal, the biggest train station in the country. And in our excessive merriment, we failed to name a meeting place more specific than "the train station." Luckily, it's not that hard to spot a big American family. We're slightly louder and slightly more bewildered looking than the average family in the station.
I dragged the half-hungover fam through a nice hour tour of the Dom tower, which included the mandatory climbing of 465 stairs. But the view was worth every step. Then we headed down the Oudegracht to sample some pancakes at the apparent "best pancake place in town." Barry joined, and I can safely say everyone was thoroughly satisfied with the meal. At this point I was starting to lose some steam, but we trucked on, viewing my pad, Wilhelmina Park, and the road back to the station. During this the Dutch weather ran its full course, bringing rain, sleet, and shining sun. I'm spending the rest of the evening preparing for a week on the road that begins tomorrow with a train ride to Brussels, and ends Sunday with a trek back to Utrecht from Paris. I'm looking forward to some good family time and the sense of a lack of control that so often comes on a family vacation. As always happens this time of year, I'll be paying no attention to my bracket, because I'm horrible at predicting this tourney. So go Bucky.