monday (con't):
before i keep going on our dining experience at cafe de punt, i forgot to mention our process of getting to amsterdam. v.k. was staying at an airport hotel in an place called hoofddorp, which is one of those places that grew up out of the fact that the airport was near. we took the train to schiphol and then took the airport shuttle to the hotel. we check in. then we proceed to wander and wander and wander around looking for the hoofddorp train station (which the concierge at the hotel said was a 10-minute walk away). it was closer to half an hour. we finally get to the train station and buy our tickets from the convenience store/ticket sales desk and are on our way. pretty funny. theme food of the day: kit kat mcflurry. but we never actually had one. :-(
so cafe de punt. cute waiter, named mark (as i found out later). we figure we'll stop at cafe de punt for a drink and then make our way back to homey italian restaurant. we strike up a conversation with our waiter, who is lavishing attention on us -- likely because we are the only customers except for 3 weird old men, playing video lottery machines in the corner. yes, we went to a classy place with v.l.t. machines. one of the creepy old men was a total lech. he kept staring at us. i made the mistake of smiling at him once when he walked by. apparently in his world that was an invitation to be ogled. perv.
the waiter convinces us that we should eat at cafe de punt. the food, he says, is the best in de pijp. the owner is the chef and he is a fantastic cook. the food is wonderful. in particular, he recommends a salad. actually, he recommends everything. i wonder if he receives a commission for each meal he sells. so we shrug our shoulders and decide to eat at cafe de punt.
the conversation was mostly about our single status and how outrageous it is that two fine ladies such as ourselves are lacking in the romance department. i suspect that the waiter is listening in on our conversation. we talk to the waiter - a lot. we ask him all sorts of questions. he lives in an abandoned office building with a bunch of other people. his room is a former corner-office. and he is legally living in this place to keep out illegal squatters. it's some strange law in the netherlands where you have building management companies filling up abandoned buildings with legit tenants to avoid having illegit ones. strange.
we are flirting like mad with the waiter. all is fun. creepy guys stares. we tell on him - the waiter comes back to announce that he's left. in the meantime, another patron had come into the restaurant: a middle-aged dutch man. he sits to my right and also orders a drink and dinner. he starts doodling on the paper place mat. we pay him no mind, until we strike up a conversation with him. v.k. asks him what dutch men are known for across europe. he tells us that dutch men are known to be good husbands, but kind of boring. haha. turns out he went to law school but never practiced - he ended up working for an academic publisher. he was pretty curious about our work as lawyers, and said that he could tell we had lived in ny because of how quickly we bantered with one another.
it turned out that the dutch man -- his name is martin -- was doodling a picture of me in side-profile. as v.k. noted (and i agree), he made me look older than i am, and gave me some sharp features, but you can tell that it's supposed to be me. there's enough of a resemblance. so, we continue to chat up our waiter, leave a too large for europe tip and head back to the train station.
we'd spent the entire evening at cafe de punt. whew. it was a long drawn-out dinner, punctuated with moments of ridiculousness. for example, i had written a list of all the qualities we want in a man (qualities that no one person could ever hope to have) in a little book i carry around for brainstorming. then i got the idea of asking mark for recommendations of places to go for music, drinks, dancing, etc. he started telling me some places and then told me he'd write them down in the book. he took the book from me, a pen (the pen that the dutch man used, actually, to draw my profile) and started diligently setting out his recommendations. i was convinced that he had seen our list of man-qualities and was laughing his ass off.
anyway, we did finally leave cafe de punt, and make our way back to the aiport, catching the last shuttle back to the hotel. an excellent day.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
v.k. visits (part 1)
v.k. came to visit for a whirlwind long weekend of hilarious times. theme songs for the weekend: flo rida's "right round" and lady gaga's "poker face" (which mysterious did not play at all on mtv when v.k. was here, but otherwise plays all the time).
saturday:
v.k. arrived early on a saturday. after i convinced here that she would be jet-lagged and that running around amsterdam on saturday could result in us curling up under a bridge and napping for about 6 hours, she came to meet me at the hague. we got her settled in and then promptly napped. we got up, did some hague-walking around. commented on how like victoria this place is. we headed into de paas, the bar two doors down from my apartment, where i make everyone go. we found seats inside. the talk: our lack of mans and yet our amazingness. seated beside us was a group of about 8 guys, one of whom was dressed like robin hood, complete with a chapeau (that another friend was wearing). all while we were sitting there, they kept looking over at us. i felt like they wanted to talk. we finally asked them about the robin hood costume. turns out it was a bachelor party for their friend. well then! apparently, it is a typical thing to make the bachelor dress up in a costume, like robing hood, for instance. they surrounded us and took pictures of us with the bachelor, making him sit between v.k. and me and asking us to get close. essentially, draping us over the bachelor. so, some of the bachelor's friends were cute -- one was hottt. but of course we got no time with them. anyway, we were invited to catch up with them later on the plein, where they were going post-drinks. sounds like a wild, raucous night, right.
wrong. i lamed out and v.k. and i returned to my apartment, where we gorged on junk food and watched from start to finish the eurovision song contest, to watch norway's triumph. ah yes, a visit to the hague always ends up with me and my visitor in my apartment watching tv. sad, sad. i apologize to v.k. for subjecting her to my typical saturday night.
sunday:
but sunday, we were amazing. we left early, and went to keukenhof, which is the netherlands' version of butchart gardens. it's a tulip-y delight. the day was overcast with off and on spitting rain and sunny periods. a typical day in the netherlands. we had the world's friendliest bus driving to take us from leidan to keukenhof. best keukenhof highlight, beside the flowers of course -- the south indian "bollywood-type" production we witnessed. what we witnessed & heard was: a song that could have been sun by alvin, simon and theodore (the chipmunks) and a guy repeatedly jumping off a banister doing a spin in the air and landing with a thud, arms out in front of a glamourous sari-clad woman. the woman was pretty. the guy was beastly. there is a group of baffled dutch people and an embarrassed me watching. me embarrassed lest everyone think i'm part of the shooting. egad. other highlights included: weird cafeteria-type lunchtime dining & walking on man-made "stones" on a pond. highlight also include about 7000 photos of beautiful flowers. amazing. the last highlight, which was perhaps the highlighty-ist was when we stopped in one of the pavilions to listen to an old-man choir. we waited for them to sing a song in dutch. it didn't happen at least not while we were there. anyway, we were standing up against a planter. as we decided to leave, a strange dutch ladies (who had been staring at us off and on) stopped me, telling me that v.k. had that yellow stuff that's inside flowers on her hoodie. we stopped and i tried to brush it off. she grabbed v.k. by the arm and said ominously, "you'll NEVER get it out." huh? thanks for nothing.
on the way back to the hague, we decided to check out leidan and grab some food there. much to our surprise, sunday was the date of the leidan marathon. amazing. we kicked around leidan for a bit & made our way back to the hague to grab dinner at garoeda (delish indonesian food). post-garoeda, we found a bar (supermarkt) with live "music" (using that word loosely). the patrons of supermarkt were wholly bizarre: first of all there was a guy we nicknamed "mr. miyagi" -- he seriously looked like pat morita. then, there was the woman in the tiny, silver lame dress, who was seated on a stool and had no apparent awareness of the length of her dress and the peep show she was giving everyone. the crowd was ranged in age from 17 to 67. we had G&Ts which meant that were each handed a glassful of gin & a small-sized bottle of tonic. i thought i would pass out from the fumes alone.
made our way home, in anticipation of our big day in the big city on monday.
monday:
we woke up late. grabbed breakfast en route to Den Haag HS station and got into amsterdam a couple of hours later than we'd hoped. two items on the agenda: cheese & chocolate. v.k. is the most generous traveller i know. she bought a tonne of chocolate for friends at work. my friends are lucky if they get a post card or a magnet. we went to puccini bonbons (something like that) for chocolate. across the street was reypenauer (something like that) cheese shop. gouda & goat cheese. strictly. then we went to this amazing cheese shoperie called "kase kamer" (cheese room). there we had many samples and bought much cheese. we wandered around with our purchases eventually stopping for a snack (i introduced v.k. to stroopwafels, a delicious treat that i will miss when i leave -- two flat waffles with caramel inside. delicious!) we gave up on going to the opera (we'd spent considerable time trying to find things to do for our evening in amsterdam). we then went on a boondoggle search for a place to have dinner. we hit one of the streets a guidebook said was good for dining. we weren't really impressed by anything we saw. we finally decided to check out an italian restaurant that had rave reviews. we walked past the window and a surly man sitting at a table just inside the restaurant gave us a very odd, very unfriendly look. forget you, assface. so we continued our quest. we headed south and got to the pijp area of amsterdam, having again found a place in the guidebook that sounded promising. we finally found it (after a slight mishap where i thought the restaurant might have closed down but we were on the wrong street). we got to the spot where the restaurant was in existence, but it looked closed. we sat down on the bench outside, dejected. not yet starving, but coming close to real, gnawing hunger. we saw a guy park his bike and go inside, returning with a pizza. we asked if the restaurant was open. it was. hooray.
we went in search of a place to get a drink before we would head back to the restaurant (it was a homey italian place) for dinner.
we wandered and meandered. and found a place called cafe de punt, which looked like a good place for a drink. the bartender was a very young man, who looked like he could be about 14. we settled in with wine and started what would become a quite humourous night.
to be continued.
saturday:
v.k. arrived early on a saturday. after i convinced here that she would be jet-lagged and that running around amsterdam on saturday could result in us curling up under a bridge and napping for about 6 hours, she came to meet me at the hague. we got her settled in and then promptly napped. we got up, did some hague-walking around. commented on how like victoria this place is. we headed into de paas, the bar two doors down from my apartment, where i make everyone go. we found seats inside. the talk: our lack of mans and yet our amazingness. seated beside us was a group of about 8 guys, one of whom was dressed like robin hood, complete with a chapeau (that another friend was wearing). all while we were sitting there, they kept looking over at us. i felt like they wanted to talk. we finally asked them about the robin hood costume. turns out it was a bachelor party for their friend. well then! apparently, it is a typical thing to make the bachelor dress up in a costume, like robing hood, for instance. they surrounded us and took pictures of us with the bachelor, making him sit between v.k. and me and asking us to get close. essentially, draping us over the bachelor. so, some of the bachelor's friends were cute -- one was hottt. but of course we got no time with them. anyway, we were invited to catch up with them later on the plein, where they were going post-drinks. sounds like a wild, raucous night, right.
wrong. i lamed out and v.k. and i returned to my apartment, where we gorged on junk food and watched from start to finish the eurovision song contest, to watch norway's triumph. ah yes, a visit to the hague always ends up with me and my visitor in my apartment watching tv. sad, sad. i apologize to v.k. for subjecting her to my typical saturday night.
sunday:
but sunday, we were amazing. we left early, and went to keukenhof, which is the netherlands' version of butchart gardens. it's a tulip-y delight. the day was overcast with off and on spitting rain and sunny periods. a typical day in the netherlands. we had the world's friendliest bus driving to take us from leidan to keukenhof. best keukenhof highlight, beside the flowers of course -- the south indian "bollywood-type" production we witnessed. what we witnessed & heard was: a song that could have been sun by alvin, simon and theodore (the chipmunks) and a guy repeatedly jumping off a banister doing a spin in the air and landing with a thud, arms out in front of a glamourous sari-clad woman. the woman was pretty. the guy was beastly. there is a group of baffled dutch people and an embarrassed me watching. me embarrassed lest everyone think i'm part of the shooting. egad. other highlights included: weird cafeteria-type lunchtime dining & walking on man-made "stones" on a pond. highlight also include about 7000 photos of beautiful flowers. amazing. the last highlight, which was perhaps the highlighty-ist was when we stopped in one of the pavilions to listen to an old-man choir. we waited for them to sing a song in dutch. it didn't happen at least not while we were there. anyway, we were standing up against a planter. as we decided to leave, a strange dutch ladies (who had been staring at us off and on) stopped me, telling me that v.k. had that yellow stuff that's inside flowers on her hoodie. we stopped and i tried to brush it off. she grabbed v.k. by the arm and said ominously, "you'll NEVER get it out." huh? thanks for nothing.
on the way back to the hague, we decided to check out leidan and grab some food there. much to our surprise, sunday was the date of the leidan marathon. amazing. we kicked around leidan for a bit & made our way back to the hague to grab dinner at garoeda (delish indonesian food). post-garoeda, we found a bar (supermarkt) with live "music" (using that word loosely). the patrons of supermarkt were wholly bizarre: first of all there was a guy we nicknamed "mr. miyagi" -- he seriously looked like pat morita. then, there was the woman in the tiny, silver lame dress, who was seated on a stool and had no apparent awareness of the length of her dress and the peep show she was giving everyone. the crowd was ranged in age from 17 to 67. we had G&Ts which meant that were each handed a glassful of gin & a small-sized bottle of tonic. i thought i would pass out from the fumes alone.
made our way home, in anticipation of our big day in the big city on monday.
monday:
we woke up late. grabbed breakfast en route to Den Haag HS station and got into amsterdam a couple of hours later than we'd hoped. two items on the agenda: cheese & chocolate. v.k. is the most generous traveller i know. she bought a tonne of chocolate for friends at work. my friends are lucky if they get a post card or a magnet. we went to puccini bonbons (something like that) for chocolate. across the street was reypenauer (something like that) cheese shop. gouda & goat cheese. strictly. then we went to this amazing cheese shoperie called "kase kamer" (cheese room). there we had many samples and bought much cheese. we wandered around with our purchases eventually stopping for a snack (i introduced v.k. to stroopwafels, a delicious treat that i will miss when i leave -- two flat waffles with caramel inside. delicious!) we gave up on going to the opera (we'd spent considerable time trying to find things to do for our evening in amsterdam). we then went on a boondoggle search for a place to have dinner. we hit one of the streets a guidebook said was good for dining. we weren't really impressed by anything we saw. we finally decided to check out an italian restaurant that had rave reviews. we walked past the window and a surly man sitting at a table just inside the restaurant gave us a very odd, very unfriendly look. forget you, assface. so we continued our quest. we headed south and got to the pijp area of amsterdam, having again found a place in the guidebook that sounded promising. we finally found it (after a slight mishap where i thought the restaurant might have closed down but we were on the wrong street). we got to the spot where the restaurant was in existence, but it looked closed. we sat down on the bench outside, dejected. not yet starving, but coming close to real, gnawing hunger. we saw a guy park his bike and go inside, returning with a pizza. we asked if the restaurant was open. it was. hooray.
we went in search of a place to get a drink before we would head back to the restaurant (it was a homey italian place) for dinner.
we wandered and meandered. and found a place called cafe de punt, which looked like a good place for a drink. the bartender was a very young man, who looked like he could be about 14. we settled in with wine and started what would become a quite humourous night.
to be continued.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
interesting discussion re Holbrooke-Karadzic Agreement
i don't know if this work-related blogging is interesting to anyone reading (save me), but since is public and involves my otherwise unpublic worklife, i'm blogging about it. just try to stop me.
check out the following link discussing the agreement on opinio juris. fascinating stuff. the link is here.
comments. spirited discussion. welcomed.
check out the following link discussing the agreement on opinio juris. fascinating stuff. the link is here.
comments. spirited discussion. welcomed.
a damn fine cup of coffee
as part of my saving money exercise (which will take on more urgency when i'm living in london, surrounded by glitter and fabulosity that can only be purchased with many, many GBP), i have been saving on the cost of a latte a day by making coffee at home in a french press.
i've taken heed of all those studies that show just how much you can save in a week / a month / a year if you give up your "starbucks habit". what those studies fail to consider, however, is the value of the increased quality of life that comes with a damn fine cuppa joe.
i make bad coffee. it's why my career as an intern didn't take off until my 30s. my coffee is so bad that even i won't drink it. i could never foist it upon anyone else. now that i'm making coffee at home again, i've come to realize just how bad my coffee is. it's wretched. i pour most of it down the drain and fantasize about those halcyon days of yore when i would wile away hours at coffee shops, throwing down cash for lattes and croissants. ah.
but this morning, something kind of amazing happened. i just enjoyed my homemade cup of coffee. and i actually ENJOYED it. i finally made a good cup of coffee! i'm going to stop typing to pat myself on the back. ok, done. so now i just have to replicate the formula for today's cup of coffee every day for the rest of my life.
yeah, good luck with that.
i've taken heed of all those studies that show just how much you can save in a week / a month / a year if you give up your "starbucks habit". what those studies fail to consider, however, is the value of the increased quality of life that comes with a damn fine cuppa joe.
i make bad coffee. it's why my career as an intern didn't take off until my 30s. my coffee is so bad that even i won't drink it. i could never foist it upon anyone else. now that i'm making coffee at home again, i've come to realize just how bad my coffee is. it's wretched. i pour most of it down the drain and fantasize about those halcyon days of yore when i would wile away hours at coffee shops, throwing down cash for lattes and croissants. ah.
but this morning, something kind of amazing happened. i just enjoyed my homemade cup of coffee. and i actually ENJOYED it. i finally made a good cup of coffee! i'm going to stop typing to pat myself on the back. ok, done. so now i just have to replicate the formula for today's cup of coffee every day for the rest of my life.
yeah, good luck with that.
Monday, May 25, 2009
karadzic press conference
we held a press conference today in front of the ICTY concerning a motion filed today seeking dismissal of the indictment on the basis of an agreement entered into by karadzic and richard holbrooke providing that karadzic would not be tried at the ICTY if he were to disappear from public life, stepping down as president of the republika srpska, etc.
i was at the press conference. most of the press was german & dutch - there was someone from reuters there too. i found this link.
peter robinson (one of karadzic's legal advisors) gave a shout-out to the interns and pointed in our general direction. the reporter standing next to me turned around and pointed at me and said "that's you". apparently, he'd seen my ICTY defense badge and assumed correctly that i worked for karadzic. he is a free-lancer and writes for dutch, french and belgian papers. nice guy.
so the motion is filed. we want an evidentiary hearing on the existence of this agreement. ramifications will be great for negotiation processes during resolution to armed conflict.
back to the grind. excitement is over for today.
i was at the press conference. most of the press was german & dutch - there was someone from reuters there too. i found this link.
peter robinson (one of karadzic's legal advisors) gave a shout-out to the interns and pointed in our general direction. the reporter standing next to me turned around and pointed at me and said "that's you". apparently, he'd seen my ICTY defense badge and assumed correctly that i worked for karadzic. he is a free-lancer and writes for dutch, french and belgian papers. nice guy.
so the motion is filed. we want an evidentiary hearing on the existence of this agreement. ramifications will be great for negotiation processes during resolution to armed conflict.
back to the grind. excitement is over for today.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
big news. grande nouvelle.
it's almost final. i will (very likely) be in London for 6 months starting July. i got an internship with Amnesty International. yes, unpaid. boo. but I think I can swing it and the gig sounds so interesting and might just help me figure out TROML. yippy. i will have to enforce a regimen of poverty. i get a daily lunch & transportation stipend and a return flight, so it could be worse.
my time in london will end just as i have to be in victoria to teach a course at uvic. that too isn't quite final, but i am optimistic that it'll all work out. who else would be willing to teach "corporate & consumer law" (aka "sale of goods"). i hope the students are a forgiving bunch.
if i can't be in nyc right now, london is a decent substitute. & some people like london more than nyc. crazy. the tv will be MUCH better than in the netherlands, assuming i can afford to have a tv or cable or permanent shelter.
my time in london will end just as i have to be in victoria to teach a course at uvic. that too isn't quite final, but i am optimistic that it'll all work out. who else would be willing to teach "corporate & consumer law" (aka "sale of goods"). i hope the students are a forgiving bunch.
if i can't be in nyc right now, london is a decent substitute. & some people like london more than nyc. crazy. the tv will be MUCH better than in the netherlands, assuming i can afford to have a tv or cable or permanent shelter.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
a few more rantecdotes
This series of rantecdotes has to do with men in the Hague. Three incidents to report.
1. I was waiting to cross the street. A couple of guys in a service truck were stopped at the light. I made eye contact with the guy sitting nearest to me. I smiled, like normal people do. He took this as some kind of invitation to be sexually harassed. I get lewd gestures from him until the light finally turns. Of course, I shot him the finger. It was cold comfort.
2. I was walking home from P.S.'s and S.J.'s place. It's about midnight. I walk through one of the main streets through downtown. I feel perfectly safe and have walked this way many, many times with no incident. I see that coming towards me at some distance are two guys. They seem to just be walking past. I pay them no attention. As we come to the point where we would pass by one another, one of them steps in my way and screams AHHHHHHHHHHHH (as if to frighten me). I am startled. It was very quiet. Not many people are around. They continue to walk by. I turn around and say, "WTF is your problem, assface?" The guy that did the screaming proceeds to ask me "Wanna $%^*? Wanna $%^*?" over and over again. I am DISGUSTED. Assholes!
3. The last incident happened today. This one is something that has happened to me before. I walk past three Indian guys on my way to the library. They noticed me before. And know I'm Indian. And proceed to SING love songs in PUNJABI to me as I walked past them. I am LIVID. I can't stand it. I don't know why it bothers me much more when it's Indian guys, but it does. I think dark thoughts about them. And imagine someone (okay, me) throwing acid at their crotches. I don't cuss them out, however, because I have an irrational fear of engaging in any kind of contact with Indian men I don't know. A.B. knows about this -- he witnessed it when I went to Little India in Queen's and was sold a pirated copy of "Om Shanti Om". I just could not go back to return it. It's irrational. I can't explain it, probably deep-seated stuff.
P.S. Dutch people: Such long legs, such slow walkers. What gives?
1. I was waiting to cross the street. A couple of guys in a service truck were stopped at the light. I made eye contact with the guy sitting nearest to me. I smiled, like normal people do. He took this as some kind of invitation to be sexually harassed. I get lewd gestures from him until the light finally turns. Of course, I shot him the finger. It was cold comfort.
2. I was walking home from P.S.'s and S.J.'s place. It's about midnight. I walk through one of the main streets through downtown. I feel perfectly safe and have walked this way many, many times with no incident. I see that coming towards me at some distance are two guys. They seem to just be walking past. I pay them no attention. As we come to the point where we would pass by one another, one of them steps in my way and screams AHHHHHHHHHHHH (as if to frighten me). I am startled. It was very quiet. Not many people are around. They continue to walk by. I turn around and say, "WTF is your problem, assface?" The guy that did the screaming proceeds to ask me "Wanna $%^*? Wanna $%^*?" over and over again. I am DISGUSTED. Assholes!
3. The last incident happened today. This one is something that has happened to me before. I walk past three Indian guys on my way to the library. They noticed me before. And know I'm Indian. And proceed to SING love songs in PUNJABI to me as I walked past them. I am LIVID. I can't stand it. I don't know why it bothers me much more when it's Indian guys, but it does. I think dark thoughts about them. And imagine someone (okay, me) throwing acid at their crotches. I don't cuss them out, however, because I have an irrational fear of engaging in any kind of contact with Indian men I don't know. A.B. knows about this -- he witnessed it when I went to Little India in Queen's and was sold a pirated copy of "Om Shanti Om". I just could not go back to return it. It's irrational. I can't explain it, probably deep-seated stuff.
P.S. Dutch people: Such long legs, such slow walkers. What gives?
odds n' ends
i've got a few rantecdotes i need to get off my chest. mostly generalizations about dutch people. and yes, L.B., i know that L.M. had a delightful time in amsterdam and met wonderful dutch people. i'm not saying wonderful dutch people don't exist. in fact, even i have met a few. this is for the few bad apples.
Dutch people don't understand queuing. Unless there is a sign specifying that you should line up at each ticket-window, it is perfectly reasonable (and typical) for one line to form, somewhere in the vicinity of the ticket-windows. It stands to reason that those people are queuing up for assistance from the person on the other side of the ticket-window. Ordinarily, the person at the front of the line will go to the ticket-window which next becomes available. Why then, do you persist in unfairly cutting the line? And why do people in the service-industry not enforce a fair and equal queuing? Who knows?
Example No. 1: When J.P. (and, J.P., you can back me up here), we went to Den Haag HS station to buy tickets to Amsterdam. Two ticket-windows, and a line forms somewhere in the center of the two. We are patiently waiting for our turn. The ticket-window on the left is un-occupied and then becomes occupied. In the meantime, a smug Dutch douchebag comes in to the ticket office and goes straight up to the now-free ticket-window person. Cutting ALL of the people waiting in line! And, what's worse, instead of pointing out the line that has formed for help, the woman at the ticket-window actually helps him, as though he is in the right. Of course, the other ticket-window person goes off to do something (because God forbid two ticket windows could be open at once, that would mean a Dutch person would actually be working) and then our entire line shifts left to stand at the place that douchebag is being helped. He shoots us a super-smug look as he leaves. It took a lot of self-control not to punch him in the groin and give him a clothesline. I was NOT about to let this unfairness pass. Oh no. We get up to the window and I point out to the woman that we were all waiting in line and that she helped someone who cut in front of us. I add that there is no indication that a line should form at each window. I am not going to let this go. The other Dutch people can stand around meekly and lament that this is just life in the Netherlands, but not me. The woman admits (weakly) that it's her fault for not making the process clear. Yeah? No shit sherlock!
Example No. 2: I went to the central public library today to do some work. I go sit on the third floor where there are three large tables with people studying or quietly using laptops. I find a spot and start reading. Shortly thereafter, a group of ferals arrives fresh out of juvie hall and they start being very loud and disruptive. They are louder than ought to be permitted in even a non-silent part of the library. It is a library, for *!?%'s sake! The rest of us exchange frustrated looks and shoot looks over to the offending group. They look back and don't lower their voices even an octave. Lame. Finally, I have had enough. The rest of the quiet people at the library tables aren't about to do anything. Leave it to me. I walk over to the loudest people at the group, and say in English: "Excuse me. There are a number of us trying to do work over here, could you please lower your voices. If you want to talk, maybe you should leave this area." One of them, smirking, says in English, "Sorry but I don't speak English." To which I reply, like !@&$ you don't. (ok, I really should not have dropped the F-bomb right then, but I did.). Then they start freaking on me and calling me names. One of them says, "learn to speak dutch." I have made my point, ineffectually, so I go sit down in my spot. A library employee walks by and doesn't nothing, even as they are loudly saying "@#$% you" to me. Ah, but of course. God forbid, he actually do his job! A while later a female library employee goes over to the group and tells them to quiet down. They do -- for about 30 seconds. So what does this have to do with queue etiquette? It is not getting any quieter as other groups of ferals come and go. People are openly talking loudly on cell phones. And people think North Americans are rude! As I leave the library, I wait at the librarian desk to let them know about the disruptives. There are 2 people working there, one is on the phone and the other is helping LP 1 (library patron). I am LP 2 and there is a LP 3 waiting behind me. I am standing at the lady librarian's side of the table. She looks like she'll be done soon. Whereas, LP 1 looks like he has a lot of questions. Lady librarian makes ZERO indication that she sees me (a living, breathing library patron standing right in front of her!). She puts the phone person on hold, and leaves the desk. Time elapses. I am tempted to leave without snitching on the ferals, but I can't do that. It just wouldn't be true to me. I wait. Then LP 1 leaves the desk to go to the stacks. I look hopefully at man librarian. He is doing something at his computer. I move over towards his station. Then man librarian holds up his hand at me and leaves the desk to go help LP 1 in the stacks! Now, LP 3 and I are loosely standing in front of each of the stations. I'm still closer to the one with the lady librarian. Man librarian returns and as I move over to be helped, LP 3 deftly moves farther to the left-hand side and TOTALLY CUTS IN FRONT OF ME! I can't believe it. Man librarian, of course, starts to help him. Even though HE SAW ME STANDING THERE EARLIER and motioned for me to wait. WTF!!! LP 2 has NO SHAME. Lady librarian comes back and picks up the phone. She's on the phone forever again. Now, LP 1 has returned to the desk. I've moved to the center of the two stations by now. There are 4 of us at the desk. LP 1 returned, standing closer to the lady librarian. LP 2 (me), LP 3, at the man librarian desk and LP 4 (who I smiled at and she totally looked through me. Hey, pick up a dictionary, look up the word smile. Try it.) Lady librarian puts down the phone AND (to my disbelief) gestures to LP 1 to come forward!!!! WTF! Of course, LP 1 goes to the desk and starts asking his question. Lady librarian doesn't even look at me. SHE SUCKS. They all SUCK. I look at LP 4 with a look that says, "step back, biatch, because i will cut YOU if you cut in front of me." LP 1 leaves the desk and I practically run to the lady librarian's station. I was going to point out that I was the first person in line and that TWO people were allowed to cut in front of me. But I decide that since I am complaining already, I shouldn't get on her bad-side. Once I started talking to her, she was very sympathetic to my problem. And said that she would make sure someone went over to keep an eye on the situation and would call security next time it happened. She also told me that there is a (crowded) area on floor 5 which is absolutely silent. Next time, I will go there.
I have to start a new post now, because this is super long already.
Dutch people don't understand queuing. Unless there is a sign specifying that you should line up at each ticket-window, it is perfectly reasonable (and typical) for one line to form, somewhere in the vicinity of the ticket-windows. It stands to reason that those people are queuing up for assistance from the person on the other side of the ticket-window. Ordinarily, the person at the front of the line will go to the ticket-window which next becomes available. Why then, do you persist in unfairly cutting the line? And why do people in the service-industry not enforce a fair and equal queuing? Who knows?
Example No. 1: When J.P. (and, J.P., you can back me up here), we went to Den Haag HS station to buy tickets to Amsterdam. Two ticket-windows, and a line forms somewhere in the center of the two. We are patiently waiting for our turn. The ticket-window on the left is un-occupied and then becomes occupied. In the meantime, a smug Dutch douchebag comes in to the ticket office and goes straight up to the now-free ticket-window person. Cutting ALL of the people waiting in line! And, what's worse, instead of pointing out the line that has formed for help, the woman at the ticket-window actually helps him, as though he is in the right. Of course, the other ticket-window person goes off to do something (because God forbid two ticket windows could be open at once, that would mean a Dutch person would actually be working) and then our entire line shifts left to stand at the place that douchebag is being helped. He shoots us a super-smug look as he leaves. It took a lot of self-control not to punch him in the groin and give him a clothesline. I was NOT about to let this unfairness pass. Oh no. We get up to the window and I point out to the woman that we were all waiting in line and that she helped someone who cut in front of us. I add that there is no indication that a line should form at each window. I am not going to let this go. The other Dutch people can stand around meekly and lament that this is just life in the Netherlands, but not me. The woman admits (weakly) that it's her fault for not making the process clear. Yeah? No shit sherlock!
Example No. 2: I went to the central public library today to do some work. I go sit on the third floor where there are three large tables with people studying or quietly using laptops. I find a spot and start reading. Shortly thereafter, a group of ferals arrives fresh out of juvie hall and they start being very loud and disruptive. They are louder than ought to be permitted in even a non-silent part of the library. It is a library, for *!?%'s sake! The rest of us exchange frustrated looks and shoot looks over to the offending group. They look back and don't lower their voices even an octave. Lame. Finally, I have had enough. The rest of the quiet people at the library tables aren't about to do anything. Leave it to me. I walk over to the loudest people at the group, and say in English: "Excuse me. There are a number of us trying to do work over here, could you please lower your voices. If you want to talk, maybe you should leave this area." One of them, smirking, says in English, "Sorry but I don't speak English." To which I reply, like !@&$ you don't. (ok, I really should not have dropped the F-bomb right then, but I did.). Then they start freaking on me and calling me names. One of them says, "learn to speak dutch." I have made my point, ineffectually, so I go sit down in my spot. A library employee walks by and doesn't nothing, even as they are loudly saying "@#$% you" to me. Ah, but of course. God forbid, he actually do his job! A while later a female library employee goes over to the group and tells them to quiet down. They do -- for about 30 seconds. So what does this have to do with queue etiquette? It is not getting any quieter as other groups of ferals come and go. People are openly talking loudly on cell phones. And people think North Americans are rude! As I leave the library, I wait at the librarian desk to let them know about the disruptives. There are 2 people working there, one is on the phone and the other is helping LP 1 (library patron). I am LP 2 and there is a LP 3 waiting behind me. I am standing at the lady librarian's side of the table. She looks like she'll be done soon. Whereas, LP 1 looks like he has a lot of questions. Lady librarian makes ZERO indication that she sees me (a living, breathing library patron standing right in front of her!). She puts the phone person on hold, and leaves the desk. Time elapses. I am tempted to leave without snitching on the ferals, but I can't do that. It just wouldn't be true to me. I wait. Then LP 1 leaves the desk to go to the stacks. I look hopefully at man librarian. He is doing something at his computer. I move over towards his station. Then man librarian holds up his hand at me and leaves the desk to go help LP 1 in the stacks! Now, LP 3 and I are loosely standing in front of each of the stations. I'm still closer to the one with the lady librarian. Man librarian returns and as I move over to be helped, LP 3 deftly moves farther to the left-hand side and TOTALLY CUTS IN FRONT OF ME! I can't believe it. Man librarian, of course, starts to help him. Even though HE SAW ME STANDING THERE EARLIER and motioned for me to wait. WTF!!! LP 2 has NO SHAME. Lady librarian comes back and picks up the phone. She's on the phone forever again. Now, LP 1 has returned to the desk. I've moved to the center of the two stations by now. There are 4 of us at the desk. LP 1 returned, standing closer to the lady librarian. LP 2 (me), LP 3, at the man librarian desk and LP 4 (who I smiled at and she totally looked through me. Hey, pick up a dictionary, look up the word smile. Try it.) Lady librarian puts down the phone AND (to my disbelief) gestures to LP 1 to come forward!!!! WTF! Of course, LP 1 goes to the desk and starts asking his question. Lady librarian doesn't even look at me. SHE SUCKS. They all SUCK. I look at LP 4 with a look that says, "step back, biatch, because i will cut YOU if you cut in front of me." LP 1 leaves the desk and I practically run to the lady librarian's station. I was going to point out that I was the first person in line and that TWO people were allowed to cut in front of me. But I decide that since I am complaining already, I shouldn't get on her bad-side. Once I started talking to her, she was very sympathetic to my problem. And said that she would make sure someone went over to keep an eye on the situation and would call security next time it happened. She also told me that there is a (crowded) area on floor 5 which is absolutely silent. Next time, I will go there.
I have to start a new post now, because this is super long already.
Photos of Blarney
Beautiful vistas from Blarney Castle. Emerald Isle, indeed! Oh, and one of me pouring imaginary boiling oil on N.O.
photos from ireland!
Photos of: Gallarus, Irish Surfers, Postcard from the Edge, Killarney Lakes & the Rock of Cashel (this kind of looks likes a frown-y face to me).
Monday, May 11, 2009
weekend in cork
I spent the weekend of May 2-3 in Cork, visiting N.O. and hanging out with his dad (and other members of his family, as it turned out).
Cork is a fun town. I had a great time. N.O. senior drove us around to see the sites around Cork. We went to:
On 02.05.2009:
1a. The Rock of Cashel (aka Cashel of the Kings and St. Patrick's Rock): located in Munster - in the town of Cashel, County Tipperary. The Rock of Cashel was the traditional seat of the Kings of Munster for several hundred years before the Norman invasion. The buildings on the site date from the 12th and 13th centuries! It is known to be the place where the King of Munster was converted by St. Patrick (himself) in the 5th Century AD. As my friends at Wikipedia report: According to local lore, the Rock of Cashel originated from Devil's Bit - a mountain north of Cashel - when St. Patrick banished Satan (yes, Satan himself) from a cave. The Rock landed in Cashel with a wallop.
1b. As part of our trip to the Rock of Cashel, we also saw "Hore Abbey" -- unfortunately named. Also unfortunate was the used condom I saw on the way back from the Abbey (signs of the "new Ireland") -- Hore Abbey is a ruined Cistercian monastery near the Rock of Cashel. The best thing about Hore Abbey was the numerous cattle that were guarding it. Some big, ugly beasts. They didn't look to happy for us to be trespassing on their land.
2. Cahir Castle: We didn't actually get to go inside this castle, since it was already closed by the time we got to it. It was built in 1142 and is also in County Tipperary.
3. On the way back home, we headed into the University College Cork so N.O. senior could pick up some stuff from work. He is a very accomplished physicist and had an amazing office full of very incomprehensible stuff. Brain busting, pain in the temples type of physics equations.
4. Dinner at home. N.O. cooked up some delicious meat and potatos. We rounded out the evening with a viewing of two action movies: "Taken" and "Wanted". Massive adrenaline, over the top. Sweet dreams.
On 03.05.2009:
Another awesome day of site-seeing. We headed out West to the Dingle peninsula in West Kerry.
1. We stopped at the Lakes of Killarney. I was forbidden from entering the city of Killarney itself. I couldn't have entered it even if I wasn't forbidden to, since I was in N.O.'s car, hurtling down the road at breakneck speed. There are three lakes and the landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. A bit of local knowledge: There is a famous German Butcher Shop in the area which came to be because of the Liebherr Factory, which builds container cranes. Liebherr is a German company, which had many German employees. The factory was built in Killarney because it was the only part of Ireland the owner had knowledge of. He'd heard it was beautiful (it is).
2. We stopped in the town of Dingle for lunch. Dingle: Population of 1920 people, at least as of 2006. There was a parade taking place in Dingle during the time we where there. I later found out that the parade was part of Feile na Bealtaine arts festival. We didn't check it out for long though. Back on the road.
3. Dunbeg Promontory Fort: Most Promontory Forts date from the Iron Age, but this one might date from the Bronze Age! Dunbeg is really quite remarkable. It's located on steep cliffs at the base of Mount Eagle. There are four lines of banks, five fosses and an inner rampart with an entrance flanked by two guards-caves. There's also a strange and freaky sou-terraine under the fort, which N.O.'s grandfather climbed into and walked along. In a suit. Many years ago, when the passageway was open to the elements and adventurous souls. Dunbeg was excavated in the 1970s. There aren't too many date-able finds in the fort, so it isn't easy to date the structure. There are dates of 900 AD found in the occupation layers of the "beehive" structure in the center of the fort, suggesting it was inhabited in the 10th or 11th centuries AD. But a charcoal layer under the top soil produced a radiocarbon date of around 580 BC - this layer might have been the result of the burning of a wattle fence (whatever that is). Very cool.
4. We then hit the beach. A beautiful sandy beach surrounded by sheer cliff. I'm not sure what the name of this beach is. It was quite a neat little place to explore and people were out enjoying the uncharacteristically sunny weather. In fact, two people were surfing! And some nutbars were frolicking in the water without the benefit of a wet suit. Fools!
5. Ballyferriter: The home of N.O. senior's first cousin. We stopped in on her (A.) and her husband (B.) since we were in the neighbourhood. What was really funny was the reaction of her husband when we arrived at their place. We were in a rental car with Dublin plates and since the steering wheel is on the right-hand side, I was the one sitting nearest B. He's looking at a brown girl in a car and can hear a manly voice speaking Irish asking after his wife. He was completely baffled by the scene before him. Once he realized N.O. Senior was driving, he responded: "Christ!" Hilarious. We went in and had some coffee with the two of them. Really lovely people. It was nearly impossible for me to understand anything B. was saying, even when he was speaking English and sitting right beside me. Later their son and his girlfriend showed up.
6. The Blaskets: All the way along our trip to West Kerry, there were sightings of the Blaskets. The Blasket Islands are amazing. A real sight to behold. They name of the Islands might have derived from the Norse word "brasker" which means "dangerous place." The description is apt. There are 6 principal islands, collectively called the Blaskets: Great Blasket, Beginish, Inishnabro, Inishvickillane, Inishtooskert (aka "dead man's island" - it looks like a dead man when viewed from the east) and Tearaght Island. The Blaskets (mostly Great Blasket) were inhabited until 1953 by a completely Irish-speaking population. They were evacuated to the mainland then. A lot of the descendants of the Islanders emigrated to the U.S. and many live in Springfield, Massachusetts. The story of the residents of the Blaskets took root and there was a great deal of interest in the the Irish they spoke and the island culture. Irish school-children had to read an (apparently, highly sanitized) account of one woman's life on the Blaskets -- Peig Sayers. I'm reading a book about the Blasket-ers called "Hungry for Home: Leaving the Blaskets" by Cole Moreton. N.O. Senior's cousin - A. - gave it to me. I spotted it at her place and she insisted I take it. It's an interesting read.
7. Gallarus Oratory (The Irish name translates directly to "The Church of the Place of the Foreigners") A very old (1300 years old) stone building that is shaped like canoe upside down, basically. It was built by early Christians and is believed to have been built between the 6th and 9th Centuries. The oratory has a really interesting design. It was built without mortar and uses something called "corbel vaulting" - a technique developed by Neolithic tomb-makers. The stones are all laid at a slight angle, lower on the outside than on the inside, so rainwater runs off. The interior is relatively dry even though there is no mortaring. The building is in really good shape. There is only one window in the building -- on the wall opposite the door. Local legend says that if a person crawls out the window, their soul will be cleansed. I am still a sinner.
8. Dinner in Cork: We went out for dinner in Cork - at a new restaurant (called Hardwood) that N.O. reported to be his best meal ever in Cork. The food was delicious and we had a great time. Post-dinner, we headed over to the city center to find a pub. N.O. Senior's youngest brother is very social and is friends with the owners of a local pub, called Counihan's - so we headed over there -- on the off-chance that N.O.'s uncle would be there. He was, along with another one of N.O.'s uncles and N.O.'s aunt and her husband. It was super fun. There was a band playing -- an Irish band called "Arundo" -- check them out here. I bought their CD and N.O.'s aunt got it autographed for me. The real deal Irish experience! Well, not the autographing, but you know what I mean.
On 04.05.2009:
Both N.O. and I were leaving Cork and in the morning we went to Blarney Castle (where I did not kiss the Blarney Stone -- I talk enough already) and the Blarney Woollen Mills. The Woollen Mills had some really amazing sweaters, but the ones I liked were entirely too expensive. Fortunately, I had left my wallet at home so I could only spend 50 bucks. I dodged a financial bullet by leaving my wallet at home. We explored caves under the Castle and walked all the way up to the Stone at the top. It was super, and the views from the top are amazing.
And that ends my report of Cork. Super-fun and I'd love to go back.
Cork is a fun town. I had a great time. N.O. senior drove us around to see the sites around Cork. We went to:
On 02.05.2009:
1a. The Rock of Cashel (aka Cashel of the Kings and St. Patrick's Rock): located in Munster - in the town of Cashel, County Tipperary. The Rock of Cashel was the traditional seat of the Kings of Munster for several hundred years before the Norman invasion. The buildings on the site date from the 12th and 13th centuries! It is known to be the place where the King of Munster was converted by St. Patrick (himself) in the 5th Century AD. As my friends at Wikipedia report: According to local lore, the Rock of Cashel originated from Devil's Bit - a mountain north of Cashel - when St. Patrick banished Satan (yes, Satan himself) from a cave. The Rock landed in Cashel with a wallop.
1b. As part of our trip to the Rock of Cashel, we also saw "Hore Abbey" -- unfortunately named. Also unfortunate was the used condom I saw on the way back from the Abbey (signs of the "new Ireland") -- Hore Abbey is a ruined Cistercian monastery near the Rock of Cashel. The best thing about Hore Abbey was the numerous cattle that were guarding it. Some big, ugly beasts. They didn't look to happy for us to be trespassing on their land.
2. Cahir Castle: We didn't actually get to go inside this castle, since it was already closed by the time we got to it. It was built in 1142 and is also in County Tipperary.
3. On the way back home, we headed into the University College Cork so N.O. senior could pick up some stuff from work. He is a very accomplished physicist and had an amazing office full of very incomprehensible stuff. Brain busting, pain in the temples type of physics equations.
4. Dinner at home. N.O. cooked up some delicious meat and potatos. We rounded out the evening with a viewing of two action movies: "Taken" and "Wanted". Massive adrenaline, over the top. Sweet dreams.
On 03.05.2009:
Another awesome day of site-seeing. We headed out West to the Dingle peninsula in West Kerry.
1. We stopped at the Lakes of Killarney. I was forbidden from entering the city of Killarney itself. I couldn't have entered it even if I wasn't forbidden to, since I was in N.O.'s car, hurtling down the road at breakneck speed. There are three lakes and the landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. A bit of local knowledge: There is a famous German Butcher Shop in the area which came to be because of the Liebherr Factory, which builds container cranes. Liebherr is a German company, which had many German employees. The factory was built in Killarney because it was the only part of Ireland the owner had knowledge of. He'd heard it was beautiful (it is).
2. We stopped in the town of Dingle for lunch. Dingle: Population of 1920 people, at least as of 2006. There was a parade taking place in Dingle during the time we where there. I later found out that the parade was part of Feile na Bealtaine arts festival. We didn't check it out for long though. Back on the road.
3. Dunbeg Promontory Fort: Most Promontory Forts date from the Iron Age, but this one might date from the Bronze Age! Dunbeg is really quite remarkable. It's located on steep cliffs at the base of Mount Eagle. There are four lines of banks, five fosses and an inner rampart with an entrance flanked by two guards-caves. There's also a strange and freaky sou-terraine under the fort, which N.O.'s grandfather climbed into and walked along. In a suit. Many years ago, when the passageway was open to the elements and adventurous souls. Dunbeg was excavated in the 1970s. There aren't too many date-able finds in the fort, so it isn't easy to date the structure. There are dates of 900 AD found in the occupation layers of the "beehive" structure in the center of the fort, suggesting it was inhabited in the 10th or 11th centuries AD. But a charcoal layer under the top soil produced a radiocarbon date of around 580 BC - this layer might have been the result of the burning of a wattle fence (whatever that is). Very cool.
4. We then hit the beach. A beautiful sandy beach surrounded by sheer cliff. I'm not sure what the name of this beach is. It was quite a neat little place to explore and people were out enjoying the uncharacteristically sunny weather. In fact, two people were surfing! And some nutbars were frolicking in the water without the benefit of a wet suit. Fools!
5. Ballyferriter: The home of N.O. senior's first cousin. We stopped in on her (A.) and her husband (B.) since we were in the neighbourhood. What was really funny was the reaction of her husband when we arrived at their place. We were in a rental car with Dublin plates and since the steering wheel is on the right-hand side, I was the one sitting nearest B. He's looking at a brown girl in a car and can hear a manly voice speaking Irish asking after his wife. He was completely baffled by the scene before him. Once he realized N.O. Senior was driving, he responded: "Christ!" Hilarious. We went in and had some coffee with the two of them. Really lovely people. It was nearly impossible for me to understand anything B. was saying, even when he was speaking English and sitting right beside me. Later their son and his girlfriend showed up.
6. The Blaskets: All the way along our trip to West Kerry, there were sightings of the Blaskets. The Blasket Islands are amazing. A real sight to behold. They name of the Islands might have derived from the Norse word "brasker" which means "dangerous place." The description is apt. There are 6 principal islands, collectively called the Blaskets: Great Blasket, Beginish, Inishnabro, Inishvickillane, Inishtooskert (aka "dead man's island" - it looks like a dead man when viewed from the east) and Tearaght Island. The Blaskets (mostly Great Blasket) were inhabited until 1953 by a completely Irish-speaking population. They were evacuated to the mainland then. A lot of the descendants of the Islanders emigrated to the U.S. and many live in Springfield, Massachusetts. The story of the residents of the Blaskets took root and there was a great deal of interest in the the Irish they spoke and the island culture. Irish school-children had to read an (apparently, highly sanitized) account of one woman's life on the Blaskets -- Peig Sayers. I'm reading a book about the Blasket-ers called "Hungry for Home: Leaving the Blaskets" by Cole Moreton. N.O. Senior's cousin - A. - gave it to me. I spotted it at her place and she insisted I take it. It's an interesting read.
7. Gallarus Oratory (The Irish name translates directly to "The Church of the Place of the Foreigners") A very old (1300 years old) stone building that is shaped like canoe upside down, basically. It was built by early Christians and is believed to have been built between the 6th and 9th Centuries. The oratory has a really interesting design. It was built without mortar and uses something called "corbel vaulting" - a technique developed by Neolithic tomb-makers. The stones are all laid at a slight angle, lower on the outside than on the inside, so rainwater runs off. The interior is relatively dry even though there is no mortaring. The building is in really good shape. There is only one window in the building -- on the wall opposite the door. Local legend says that if a person crawls out the window, their soul will be cleansed. I am still a sinner.
8. Dinner in Cork: We went out for dinner in Cork - at a new restaurant (called Hardwood) that N.O. reported to be his best meal ever in Cork. The food was delicious and we had a great time. Post-dinner, we headed over to the city center to find a pub. N.O. Senior's youngest brother is very social and is friends with the owners of a local pub, called Counihan's - so we headed over there -- on the off-chance that N.O.'s uncle would be there. He was, along with another one of N.O.'s uncles and N.O.'s aunt and her husband. It was super fun. There was a band playing -- an Irish band called "Arundo" -- check them out here. I bought their CD and N.O.'s aunt got it autographed for me. The real deal Irish experience! Well, not the autographing, but you know what I mean.
On 04.05.2009:
Both N.O. and I were leaving Cork and in the morning we went to Blarney Castle (where I did not kiss the Blarney Stone -- I talk enough already) and the Blarney Woollen Mills. The Woollen Mills had some really amazing sweaters, but the ones I liked were entirely too expensive. Fortunately, I had left my wallet at home so I could only spend 50 bucks. I dodged a financial bullet by leaving my wallet at home. We explored caves under the Castle and walked all the way up to the Stone at the top. It was super, and the views from the top are amazing.
And that ends my report of Cork. Super-fun and I'd love to go back.
welcome back
there are so many things to blog about. i have notes on what i wanted to blab about from weeks ago. but i have been super lazy about blogging. it's tragic. i won't bore you with the full-scale version, so here's a re-cap. and i will blog more regularly.
1. 30.04.2009: queen's day attack on queen beatrix. this probably made international news. what's strange about being here is that i don't know anything that goes on locally. all the local news seems to be in dutch - with no english subtitling. i found out about the attack on queen's day though, from a friend who was at the houseboat party. she was expecting visitors from italy and had heard that something happened that put a damper on the festivities. apparently, a lot of events in the hague were scaled back or canceled. the attack didn't take place at the hague, though. the queen was in appeldorn. someone drove through barricades and tried to drive into the bus that was carrying the queen and her family in a parade. the story was covered by the guardian here
2. all the time: my awful tv habits. i've been watching some awful tv while i'm here. the all-the-time in english channels are bbc, cnn and mtv. instead of learning more about the world, i've been watching more mtv than is healthy for a 33-year old woman. and what am i watching on mtv? i know who paris hilton chose for her new BFF. i know more about hulk hogan and his family than anyone else. i've seen relationships die a slow and painful 30-minutes. and i've seen the same 5 videos over and over again to the point where i forget what good music sounds like.
3. all the time: poverty sucks. big time. okay, okay. it's hard to have any sympathy for someone who spent the last 4.5 years being vastly overpaid. but humour me. it sucks to see stuff you can't afford to buy. which is everything. i went to a fancy department store here [like holt renfrew in canada or bloomingdale's in NY) and had to leave before i fell into depression. nice european clothes, that i couldn't buy. i mulled over the purchase of pantyhose and a scarf for about 40 minutes. poverty sucks. yes, i am a brat and i'm not really poor. i will now shut up.
4. J.P.'s visit: we were in amsterdam. P.D. (who is originally from amsterdam) recommended a restaurant on the "9 streets" (nice cute streets, also where the eyeglasses museum is located). J.P. and i looked for it. couldn't find it where we thought it was. so we went to a place similarly-named, thinking it might be the place. it wasn't. but... our waiter was super cute and tall. i was trying my witty banter on him all through dinner. hopefully, not embarrassing J.P. too much. at the end of the meal, i decided to be ballsy. and make his week. i left a note on the bill telling him he's adorable. and then we hustled out of there! no contact information on the bill, though. but still. yay, me.
5. 20.04.2009: houseboat party. E.B., M. (don't know her last name) and I went to amsterdam for queen's day. i wrote about this already. anyway, wanted to write a bit more about B.'s houseboat party on queen's day. the houseboat party was super fun! the houseboat was way nicer than most NYC apartments! very nicely decorated. with a working fireplace! greet food, drink and company.
6. 06.05.2009: there was a status conference in the karadzic case. it was quite the scene. judge bonomy (the presiding judge on the panel) was in fine form, as was dr. k. they were both in very good moods. and, unfortunately for the prosecutor, the judge was kind of in a shut-him-down mood. it was substantively very interesting: i wasn't in the court-room however, since i'm not officially dr. k's counsel. we're his "legal advisors", not counsel. and he's pro se, so he's in there all by his lonesome. the prosecution had 4 attorneys in the courtroom. judge bonomy was on fire, clearing a tonne of motions that were ripe for decision. this is a pretty great job in many ways. i use the word job loosely.
7. i found the post-office.
8. and i also found out that there is a sikh temple in the hague. it's located near-ish the big turkish market (apparently, the largest open-air market in europe) and near a couple of indian shops (little india, style). i'm planning to go to the sikh temple one of thse sundays.
9. i've done very little to figure out project TROM-L (the rest of my life). i'm trying to be okay with my lack of doing anything on that front.
that's it for now.
hope to post some pictures of my digs very soon.
1. 30.04.2009: queen's day attack on queen beatrix. this probably made international news. what's strange about being here is that i don't know anything that goes on locally. all the local news seems to be in dutch - with no english subtitling. i found out about the attack on queen's day though, from a friend who was at the houseboat party. she was expecting visitors from italy and had heard that something happened that put a damper on the festivities. apparently, a lot of events in the hague were scaled back or canceled. the attack didn't take place at the hague, though. the queen was in appeldorn. someone drove through barricades and tried to drive into the bus that was carrying the queen and her family in a parade. the story was covered by the guardian here
2. all the time: my awful tv habits. i've been watching some awful tv while i'm here. the all-the-time in english channels are bbc, cnn and mtv. instead of learning more about the world, i've been watching more mtv than is healthy for a 33-year old woman. and what am i watching on mtv? i know who paris hilton chose for her new BFF. i know more about hulk hogan and his family than anyone else. i've seen relationships die a slow and painful 30-minutes. and i've seen the same 5 videos over and over again to the point where i forget what good music sounds like.
3. all the time: poverty sucks. big time. okay, okay. it's hard to have any sympathy for someone who spent the last 4.5 years being vastly overpaid. but humour me. it sucks to see stuff you can't afford to buy. which is everything. i went to a fancy department store here [like holt renfrew in canada or bloomingdale's in NY) and had to leave before i fell into depression. nice european clothes, that i couldn't buy. i mulled over the purchase of pantyhose and a scarf for about 40 minutes. poverty sucks. yes, i am a brat and i'm not really poor. i will now shut up.
4. J.P.'s visit: we were in amsterdam. P.D. (who is originally from amsterdam) recommended a restaurant on the "9 streets" (nice cute streets, also where the eyeglasses museum is located). J.P. and i looked for it. couldn't find it where we thought it was. so we went to a place similarly-named, thinking it might be the place. it wasn't. but... our waiter was super cute and tall. i was trying my witty banter on him all through dinner. hopefully, not embarrassing J.P. too much. at the end of the meal, i decided to be ballsy. and make his week. i left a note on the bill telling him he's adorable. and then we hustled out of there! no contact information on the bill, though. but still. yay, me.
5. 20.04.2009: houseboat party. E.B., M. (don't know her last name) and I went to amsterdam for queen's day. i wrote about this already. anyway, wanted to write a bit more about B.'s houseboat party on queen's day. the houseboat party was super fun! the houseboat was way nicer than most NYC apartments! very nicely decorated. with a working fireplace! greet food, drink and company.
6. 06.05.2009: there was a status conference in the karadzic case. it was quite the scene. judge bonomy (the presiding judge on the panel) was in fine form, as was dr. k. they were both in very good moods. and, unfortunately for the prosecutor, the judge was kind of in a shut-him-down mood. it was substantively very interesting: i wasn't in the court-room however, since i'm not officially dr. k's counsel. we're his "legal advisors", not counsel. and he's pro se, so he's in there all by his lonesome. the prosecution had 4 attorneys in the courtroom. judge bonomy was on fire, clearing a tonne of motions that were ripe for decision. this is a pretty great job in many ways. i use the word job loosely.
7. i found the post-office.
8. and i also found out that there is a sikh temple in the hague. it's located near-ish the big turkish market (apparently, the largest open-air market in europe) and near a couple of indian shops (little india, style). i'm planning to go to the sikh temple one of thse sundays.
9. i've done very little to figure out project TROM-L (the rest of my life). i'm trying to be okay with my lack of doing anything on that front.
that's it for now.
hope to post some pictures of my digs very soon.
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