I haven't written in this thing in so long, because it feels overwhelming to think about how much has happened, and how little life has changed. However, that really isn't a bad thing when life is so good here...recently the weather has turned absolutely spectacular and Maastricht is full of couples making out by tulip beds in the park. We all seem to have taken up picnics like some take up drinking; and as the days get longer I find myself utterly incapacitated. Today we had a pie picnic to celebrate Jessica's birthday near the birdcage in Maastricht's public petting zoo, which is every bit as bizarrely saccharine as it sounds. Sometimes people have the wherewithal to order pizza to addresses nearby and go sprinting off after the delivery boy on his scooter when he arrives. At night it is finally warm enough for women to wear what we wear 'round these parts, and we go strolling off to the jazz club or to the pub where the owner gets to know you and brings you a drink that he thinks matches with your personality. The other night our stroll with the Norwegians led us to plop down on the pier in the middle of the Maas. I was the first of the rare species of liberal Americans a few of them had ever encountered. I basked in the attention, and in between my giggles a few phrases that vaguely sounded like "Obama" and "gun control" escaped my throat.
Tonight Jacopo returned from Italy, and he was greeted by about ten of us hiding in his toilet-papered room, complete with the ol' cups of water behind the door trick and plenty of shaving cream in the face. He loved it, I'm sure.
Almost every day I go running through the countryside, sometimes up on Mount St. Pieter and sometimes down by the canal with all of the house boats, sometimes getting lost in the maze of warehouses to the North. At times I convince myself that I couldn't possibly be more content than when I'm plodding through those forests, no matter how much my achilles tendons may disagree. Last week Emily came to visit, and after exploring a new chateau, we marvelled at the light peeking through the leaves for the first time in a long while and then finally ended up in a prone position in a meadow for a good two hours. She's right: friendships are best when you can enjoy the same things, and thus in the springtime no one is a stranger.
During our easter break, we made an attempt to drive to Prague. However, a number of ridiculous logistical hold-ups set us on our way with no destination and no map, until we decided to go to Vienna instead. I had a grand old time--we had quite the motley crew on our trip. Mark from Louisiana convinced me and my darling Turkish roommate to do (politically incorrect) Chinese firedrills when we hit traffic on the Autobahn. I don't know how I manage to assemble these spectacular casts of characters--I think we rivalled Gilligan's Island or the A-Team. After a few confused yet sunny hours wandering Munich and managing to miss all of the can't-miss attractions, we finally ended up in Salzburg, which was even more confusing to navigate until we figured out that the navigator was looking at a map of Strassbourg. Our search for a hostel until four in the morning brought most of us nearly to tears. Mine, personally, were dried by the grumpy little old man who answered the hostel door in a speedo-like little number and reluctantly surrendered the key.
Too tired, going to bed, perhaps to be continued later. Not that anyone cares, or anything--it feels prety presumptuous to think that anyone would be interested enough in my non-escapades to pick through the prose.
Tonight Jacopo returned from Italy, and he was greeted by about ten of us hiding in his toilet-papered room, complete with the ol' cups of water behind the door trick and plenty of shaving cream in the face. He loved it, I'm sure.
Almost every day I go running through the countryside, sometimes up on Mount St. Pieter and sometimes down by the canal with all of the house boats, sometimes getting lost in the maze of warehouses to the North. At times I convince myself that I couldn't possibly be more content than when I'm plodding through those forests, no matter how much my achilles tendons may disagree. Last week Emily came to visit, and after exploring a new chateau, we marvelled at the light peeking through the leaves for the first time in a long while and then finally ended up in a prone position in a meadow for a good two hours. She's right: friendships are best when you can enjoy the same things, and thus in the springtime no one is a stranger.
During our easter break, we made an attempt to drive to Prague. However, a number of ridiculous logistical hold-ups set us on our way with no destination and no map, until we decided to go to Vienna instead. I had a grand old time--we had quite the motley crew on our trip. Mark from Louisiana convinced me and my darling Turkish roommate to do (politically incorrect) Chinese firedrills when we hit traffic on the Autobahn. I don't know how I manage to assemble these spectacular casts of characters--I think we rivalled Gilligan's Island or the A-Team. After a few confused yet sunny hours wandering Munich and managing to miss all of the can't-miss attractions, we finally ended up in Salzburg, which was even more confusing to navigate until we figured out that the navigator was looking at a map of Strassbourg. Our search for a hostel until four in the morning brought most of us nearly to tears. Mine, personally, were dried by the grumpy little old man who answered the hostel door in a speedo-like little number and reluctantly surrendered the key.
Too tired, going to bed, perhaps to be continued later. Not that anyone cares, or anything--it feels prety presumptuous to think that anyone would be interested enough in my non-escapades to pick through the prose.
posted by Sandy at 8:16 PM
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