This would never fly in the States...

Last night I stumbled upon yet another shocking piece of information. This is shocking because if we had the same policy in the Badger State, a much greater percentage of us would've already spent ample time in detox. There are cafes here open until 5:00. And yes, there serve the entire time. Scary, I know.
I had dinner at a canal level pub with frighteningly low ceilings (which is odd, because the Dutch are really tall) with a few Finns and my two Dutch "mentors", Guido and Tessa, who are both very cool. I had to pass on the cheese fondue when one of the Finnish girls claimed she could handily out eat me in the spare-ribs category (which happened to be the dinsdag special). I stupidly protested and agreed to the challenge. She put up a good fight, but in the end I was victorious (3 half-racks). We all enjoyed some Dutch dessert, as well as a few litres of Brand, a local brew. I was glad to hear there was live music, and much to my surprise they were very good. They might be classified as a reggae-rock cover band, and they played everything from Radiohead to Red Hot Chili Peppers to the Police. Around 12:00 we doubled up on a few bikes and rode to Storm, the Tuesday night international hangout. I felt right at home, as there was a sizable whorebox (for those of who are familiar with such a thing) and they played similar dance music, just faster. The "Beejay" may or may not have made an appearance. Andij, a Swedish guy, and I, managed to make it back to the hostel minutes before they lock-up for the night, which is good, because it was kind of cold out.
The weather's been pretty good. It hasn't rained since Sunday and it's around 7 or 8 (50 F) during the day, but a little windy. I'm not complaining. Today I purchased a bike for 70 and it's pretty nice, so I'm leaning toward buying a second lock, as thousands of bikes are stole here annually. I also purchased a cell phone, with which I receive calls from the U.S. for free, so if you pony up for a calling card, feel free to drunk dial me (I unfortunately will not be drunk at the time of call, as it will be somewhere around 7 or 8am here).
Anyhow, tomorrow I move into my place, and can set-up shop. Speaking of which, it looks like I need to go shopping as well, as I checked my luggage this morning, and someone from TSA must've decided my three new Express shirts would look better on them. Assholes.

Good News: Amstel Light is now domestic

Last night I realized what now seems obvious. I no longer have to pay import prices for the beer I love. Amstel Light, Heineken, Grolsch are now priced at a domestic rate. My one complaint is that I can't purchase them in a larger quantity than 12, though in time I may find otherwise.
I shared some of these beers with a few Aussies (who swear like sailors. fockin'this and fockin'dat) and a guy from Finland who accidentally purchased NA Amstel (poor guy). The hostel filled up a little more, and the middle-aged black guy who snores like a freight-train stayed relatively quiet the whole night.
Today I woke up in time for my complementary organic breakfast (which I'm proud to say was at least ten minutes before the couple from California who smoked about three joints before they hit the hay) and then tried my hand at the bus system. I purchased 15 strippenkaarten from a corner shop and rode the bus to the De Uithof, which is the main campus area. Turns out it's huge. I was a little disoriented at first, but managed to find the equivalent of a student union and a bookstore, as well as Olympos, which is the rec center.
Tonight I'm meeting a group of internationals for cheese fondue and a drink at a place called the Storm. Should be a good time. More than anything, I'm looking forward to moving into a permanent residence, as living out of luggage gets old after about 48 hours...

Het Nederlands: Landed and Crashed

After a eight hour flight in from Chicago, on which I got very little sleep, partly due to the Romanian Chemistry Phd sitting next to me so eager to practice English, and partly due to my own excitement, I landed in Schipol at about 9:00. No problems with baggage. I found the train platforms with relative ease and managed to purchase a one-way ticket to Utrecht Centraal in Dutch from a teller very tolerant of Americans stumbling through her language.
A short train ride sitting next to a Chicago based sailboat salesman brought me past some classic Dutch countryside, windmills and all, as well as Ajax football stadium a sight in itself. Once in Utrecht, I came to the realization that Dutch is most definitely the dominant language here, as very few signs gave me the comforting English aid. I managed to give myself a foot tour of central Utrecht with luggage in tow.
When I arrived at hostel Strowis, I was tired and sweaty. I dropped my things in a locker, and took a walk around town, this time without the distraction of 80lbs of luggage. The city is, in the true sense of the word, picturesque. 17th century brick, cobblestone sidewalks, canals running through huge plazas. I took advantage of the lack of rain and explored further, and I found something both useful and interesting. A coffee shop sells only marijuana. A cafe sells alcohol. If you're looking for a cup of joe, an eetcafe is what you need. I can imagine your afternoon will go very differently if you choose unintentionally.
Against most advice I've received, I crashed in my bed for two hours this afternoon, exhausted. I woke up to a guitar singing folk music in the foyer, and the growl of my stomach.
Welcome to Utrecht.

Please don't refer to me as a "blogger".

To be honest, I've always had a less than mild interest in, if not a slight repulsion to, participating in blogging of any sort. That being said, it's difficult to ignore the convenience factor. I'm still unsure how I feel about anyone being able to read what I'm writing; I'm a little shy. But I'm going to give it a try, and it may end up being sporadic and general; or it may be an everyday event. Regardless, if at any point I feel as if this isn't adding value to my life or the lives of anyone who may read it, whether that value be as simple as a quick laugh or a memory aid, I'll shut it down and deny it ever existed. I arrive in the Netherlands 28-1-07 (That's how the Europeans write the date, I know, weird) and blogging could resume at that point. Or not. We'll see.