‘How the hell is it already August 2006? Before you know it you’ll be 80.’

Damn how time flies.

This past 3 months has been nuts, and I mean that in the fullest regards. I’m my own worst enemy, but I’m just now realising that. Of course, naturally you are your own worst enemy, but I’m just a wee bit above average in that category – by far. I’ll explain.

First there was that whole, let’s graduate from college, take an internship at an architecture magazine in Amsterdam thing. Followed by trying to find a job at the conclusion of my internship, in a foreign country, before Christmas – or I had to move back to the States. All of this during a global economic crisis.

Well, mission accomplished. I have found a full time job in Amsterdam. It was fuckin hard as shit as well. And it took me a good two months (which, contemplating it now, is relatively quick – considering most people don’t find jobs that fast – let alone outside of their home country). People searching for jobs in their own country sometimes can’t find a job that fast. But. I have one small advantage that makes me desirable to ‘the continent’ – I am a native English speaker. And so happy to be one. It truly is amazing how much English is everywhere; it’s the international trade language. And nothing is more entertaining than being at a social event, or doing business – especially fancy formal business affairs where I can on look, without participating, while listening to a mixture of Europeans, who all live so close, but all speak different languages, and then hear them converse in their European form of English, with small broken grammar and confused and mixed up pronunciation rules here and there… Is amusing to say the least. But I don’t mind. I give props to anyone who can speak another language other than their native tongue… But am I bit jealous of Europeans, as English is everywhere, and most of their media (TV shows, movies, songs_ all come from the US. Giving them a slight advantage and easier method of learning. Shit – I’d know French if I was surrounded by it all the time, and all the Media/Entertainment funneling into the US came from France. Does that make sense?

Anyways, back to me.

I found a full time job right before I left for the states, for Christmas. I mean right before… as in 2 days. It was fucking ridiculous. I interviewed with a firm at the beginning of November, had a second interview at the beginning of December, and finally heard their final decision the Friday before Christmas. I left for the States 3 days later. It was rushed. I moved out of my old apartment (and far far away from the interesting roommate I rented from), packed all my shit back in the 4 suitcases that my life so neatly fits inside of these days, stored my excess baggage at a friend’s house, and boarded a plane for the frigid Midwest.

Let’s not forget that during the month of December I was practically on my deathbed. No really, I mean on my deathbed. As in lying on the couch, too weak to walk, with a cold rag on my head. All the while waking up every few hours during the middle of night because I was profusely sweating… but freezing cold at the same time. So much so that I would stand in the shower with the water temperature set to 50C (about 130F). My body was fucked up. All this, while barely being able to talk due to my simultaneous sore throat… the whole time wondering if I got the job I had interviewed twice for – during which my interviews went perfect each time. My very first big kid interviews and I nailed them both. And let me tell you – you can practice all you want for an interview, but you just never know what’s going to happen until you get there…. For instance; when the interviewer walks in, they just look at you, offer no hand for a friendly handshake hello, no introduction, and just proceed to say ‘So… what are you doing here?’. Ummm… You scheduled me for an interview – remember? Tough interview; to say the least. But I passed the test.

So after my second interview I had to send both principals I interviewed with 3 of my best writing samples, and an A4 sized piece of paper (who are we kidding, a PDF, via email – and A4 is roughly a bit smaller than the US version of ‘Letter’ paper fyi) outlining the ‘role I envision for myself within the office’. Wow. Now there’s a bit of an open ended assignment. I had my interview on Friday, and had the weekend to arrange my writing samples and to draft my letter. But of course I wouldn’t just type up any old letter in Word and send that. No. Since I was interviewing for a role as PR and Marking Coordinator I put that 100% proofread and edited letter into Illustrator and format the shit out of that sucker. It was beautiful, complete with perfect typology and just a hint of creative flair (thanks in part to this amazing book my friend David gave me for my birthday; The Elements of Typographic Style, by Robert Bringhurst).

They said they would let me know by Tuesday. Then they said Friday, at 2PM. And then it was Friday at 3PM – no word yet. I called. They said call back in a few hours. I called back again in a wee bit, and the secretary had to inform me that they would like to offer me the position… because the person I was trying to get a hold of to find out… had already left the country (Holland), for the Holidays. Awesome. But at least I knew I had the job, but still had no contract. You can imagine the toll this would take on someone with the flu, and the mind games it would make you pay with yourself – constantly worrying and anticipating answer. While trying not to die.

If I didn’t get the job I was packing my stuff and moving back to the states. If I did get the job I was packing just one bag and going to Cincinnati for the Holidays, and coming back to AMS in January to start my big kid life… in Europe. How exciting. And I’m so glad things worked out the way they did. But I still felt like shit. Still recovering from the flu in essence, boarding a plane at Schipol for the dreaded flight home.

Transatlantic flights blow. Especially when you’re on your deathbed. Bu then again I guess I can’t truly complain… and most kids my age don’t usually have the opportunity to take transatlantic flights… and an abundance of them at that. So yes, I am grateful for having had the opportunity to come to Europe so many times. And I’m even more grateful for the fact that my aunt works for Delta. So the flight was free (minus taxes, which my parents paid for, and were a bit shocked when they realised that the taxes were 300€, and even more shocked when they realised that that amount translates to about 500 USD).

But, since I’m considered a ‘Delta Employee’ when I fly on a Buddy Pass, I am seated in – not first class – but one step above. Business elite. It’s amazing.

When you board, you get to board first, and watch allllll the poor people (aka me if my aunt didn’t work for Delta) walk past you toward their seats in coach. While you are being served mimosas and orange juice as soon as you board. Then once you’re in the air the feast of amazing food (at least as amazing as it can be for being plane food), is bombarded to your mouth for a good 2 hours. And all the wine you can drink is included. Then you lay back in your seat, you know, since they recline all the way, pull up your nice fluffy duvet, big oversized pillow, pull the night mask over your eyes, and fall into a deep slumber. Only to be woken up about 6 hours later to the amazing sights and smells of breakfast as the US is slowly approaches on the horizon… but since you’re flying back in time it’s usually dark outside… So it’s more of a mental imagine of what you would expect the US to look like on the horizon. Good thing I’m a visual person, and I can visualize this image on my own.

Well my flight flew into Atlanta, and since I was flying standby, and it was 2 days before Christmas… ALL (literally) the flights to Cincinnati kept being booked full, brought on by the fact that it was cold as fuck, snowing outside, and the flights kept being canceled, and the people on the canceled flights kept being placed on the next flight to Cincinnati. Which means that John had to wait in the airport for about 9 hours before he finally caught a plane to Cincinnati at the very last minute – by complete chance. I had walked away from the gate, one the last flights of the day from Atlanta to Cincinnati, fully prepared to sleep in the airport, as I figured my chances of getting on were dead… brought on by the fact that you can see your ‘place’ in the ‘standby line’ on a LCD screen next to the boarding gate. So, I walked away, disappointed, only to walk back 5 minutes later, and they called my name. Score.

Did I mention at this point I had been up for about 30 hours, and just wanted to cry because I was so tired – and I didn’t even sleep on the plane form Atlanta to Cincinnati… because a smelly drunk guy was seated next to me… and my seat didn’t recline all the way. Coach. Rough life.

Then, when I did finally get to the airport in Cincinnati, it was 1am, and my parents had already gone home – as they thought I wouldn’t make it into Cincinnati until the next day. Not having an American cell phone anymore, I had no way to call them in Atlanta to tell them I was boarding a plane to Cinci (well, there was the pay phone, but I had no time, they literally called my name – last – and I ran through the gangway – and they shut the plane door). So I arrived in Cinci, and slept on the floor of the airport baggage claim area, only to be awoken about 2 hours later by my mom ☺ It was 3:30am. I was tired as fuck. But home ☺ And that felt great.

Sleeping on the floor of the airport.

Sleeping on the floor with your glasses on is quite difficult. I took them off, and thought they looked quite beautiful against the carpet – I have decided to paint them.

Gone were all my worries of finding a job – I had one waiting for me when I returned. Gone were all my roommate problems, left in Amsterdam never to be resurfaced. But also gone was my bike, my new friends I had made over the past six months in Amsterdam, and many other aspects of my new life I had come to love – but sometimes hate. Gone was the life I had created for myself in Holland. I wasn’t at home in the USA. I was in a foreign country; and I was mystified by some of the daily routines and ways of life that I had lived within for the last 21 years or so (I’ve basically been in Europe for the past 2 years – yikes). The USA, as much as it will always be home, felt different. But it was Christmas and I was surrounded by family and friends who knew me and in out. But I was still sick as shit, completely out of whack mentally due to the time change and my lack of sleep during the past 48 hours. And surrounded by these strange things; like cars, and high fructose corn syrup, and grocery stores – without any food inside. Weird.

So I guess this brings me back to the beginning of this – where I say I’m a bit too hard on myself. It’s really easy for me to forget that I moved to Amsterdam knowing no one, had an amazingly successful internship, and found a full time job upon the conclusion of it. I tend to brush things aside too quickly. Shit, even when my diploma from my University came, my mom was so proud. And I just replied… ‘Um – it’s a piece of paper’. Granted it’s a really fucking expensive piece of paper, but in all reality, it is just that – a piece of paper that says congratulations, now you’re smart. And that’s just the way I see things. I’m always thinking of the next task at hand, quick to brush off the feats I’ve accomplished. I admire what I’ve done, but there’ no reason to dwell on it. On to the next thing.

Which brings me up to date. January 2009 – the month I did absolutely nothing. But then again, that’s just me saying that. Of course I did something, lots of things actually. January 2009 was one of the most exciting times of my life – but during it, it was quite hard for me to realise that and see it that way. I was sort of in a daze for most of the month. And it was even more difficult for me to realise what I had accomplished over the past few months during that time period. Once again, brushing my accomplishments aside.

At the beginning of January, I was still in Cincinnati. And for New Years Eve, I rang in the coming of 2009  in style, the best way I could have ever imagined – with my Grandma ☺ We fell asleep on her bed; at 11:30pm. Woops. No dropping ball, no champagne, no nothing – except a nice pillow and the comfort of knowing someone you love more than the world itself is sleeping right next to you. Looking back now, that seems like so long ago. But it isn’t.

I flew back to Amsterdam on January 8th, a Friday. I was over the flu; I beat that shits ass right around New Years Eve. (Looking back now, my holiday in the States is all one big blur – due to the fact that I was sick. Of course it’s not a blur, I have great memories, but being sick made things so hard to adjust to at the beginning of my trip). The Friday of my arrival the magazine I did my internship at was throwing a party. Hooray! The party was to celebrate the office moving into a shiny new office space in the South of the city, right next to the Olympic Stadium – literally. But in my mind I like to think they threw the party as a ‘Welcome back to Holland, John’ – soiree. But of course it wasn’t. But what it was; was a whole lot of fun. My life seemed so surreal at that point. Just three weeks earlier I had been in the same office, shit as shit, waiting to hear if I had the job or not. And since then, I had been to the States and back, and was beginning my new life in Holland. As a big kid. Weird.

My connecting flight to AMS from Cincinnati was through JFK, and I had a good 7 hours to kill in the airport. It was a beutiful day. I reallly wanted to leave my terminal and go see Saarinen’s reincarnated Terminal 5; but security to get back into my terminal just wouldn’t have been worth the hassle. I’ve seen it before,  but only from the exterior. There’ time for this I assume.

My last (real) chocolate soft serve ice cream at JFK.

Manhattan from the plane.

View of deep, deep Brooklyn from the plane.

Europe on the horizon.

The frozen Netherlands; view from the plane.

Since my lease was up on my old apartment in the South of the city, coupled with the fact that I would never renew the lease because of the roommate I would sign up for by renewing it, my friend David graciously offered to let me crash on his couch upon my return to Amsterdam – until I found my own place. Which, is super difficult in Amsterdam because there’s this sort of housing crisis or something or another. Housing crisis/shortage? I mean what does that even mean? Sort of how there’s a bunch of old grannies (and lucky people) in Manhattan who have rent controlled apartments, there’s a sort of similar situation in Amsterdam. Except since this is Holland and everything is regulated, a select group of companies own these rent-controlled apartments (about 75% of all the apartments in the city, or so I’m told). And no one is moving out.

There’s one simple solution to this problem… There’s tons of space in Amsterdam. Build something you Dutch people. Problem solved. But things aren’t quite that easy. Dutch rules and regulations are super strict – regarding everything. Especially architecture. Magnified by the fact that the county is pretty much fake, as in the whole county is basically built on land that the Dutch have reclaimed from the sea. In other words, most of the country should be underwater right now, but since the Duchies are such amazing land planners – it isn’t. And that, I am incredibly thankful for… or else my stuff would be wet… Well, not really because David lives on the top floor of his house… And I guess even then not really, because the city of Amsterdam itself is exactly/approximately 2m above sea level. So I guess we’re safe for another thousand years or so.

So anyways – back to the month of January 2009.

I began my new job on the 12, just 3 days after arriving back in the land of legal weed and prostitution; coupled with more bicycles than any one county could possible ever need. My new job is going great; and I really love what I do. Which is great, because I know people who hate what they do… and that would suck. But my job is perfect. I’m in charge of creating the firm’s next monograph. Which is pretty badass in my opinion.

But the thing is, when I returned to Amsterdam, amidst my excitement of spotting all the (now) familiar landmarks I’ve come to love – everything was frozen. I mean frozen. Even the canals. Which was quite grand and magical in its own unique Amsterdam-y way. So, even though it’s beautiful to look at – that doesn’t mean I wanted to be frozen right alongside the canals. So – I stayed inside. And stayed inside. And stayed inside. On David’s couch. For the month of January 2009, David’s couch and I were BFF. Hardcore. There was just no motivation on my part to do, well, much of anything.

For the past 2 and half years I have been moving around the world every 3 months. Literally. First San Francisco, then back to Cincinnati, the back to San Francisco, then to Manhattan, then to Copenhagen, then back to Cincinnati, then to Düsseldorf, then back to Cincinnati, and then – finally, to Amsterdam. As one can imagine, packing your life into two suitcases every three months and staring over can be incredibly exciting. A brand new destination very few months was conveniently located just outside my doorstep; with all the amenities that the huge cities of the world have to offer. Bars, clubs, restaurants, theatres, festivals, and parades – basically the past 3 years of my life has been amazing in ways that I can’t even begin to describe here. I could attempt to, but then I think I would be writing a memoir if I tried – and really who has time for that. (And ironically enough, by the time most people actually have accumulated enough history within their lives to need a memoir, they usually do have the time to write it – but yet again, ironically enough, have someone else write it. Strange).

But the downfall of this amazingly exciting lifestyle (thank you UC Architecture program), is that in each city I’ve lived in – in a way – I knew my stay was going to come to an end at some point or another. Which made me want to see, and do, everything that each city had to offer. Everything. There was such a mental pressure for me, form myself, to do and accomplish, and see as much as I possibly could – that I’m now finally enjoying having absolutely nothing to do. And what a nice feeling it is. Except for the fact that the whole notion of having absolutely nothing to do, is completely foreign to me. So – that’s why I say that during the month of January – 2009 – I did absolutely nothing, and loved it. But at the same time – shocker – was so hard on my self for doing just that, nothing.

It’s so strange to come home from work and not have to worry about looking for a job, or revising my portfolio, or worrying about on which continent I’ll be living in a few months. It’s such a nice feeling. I feel like I can finally breathe.

Following on the trend of being too hard on myself, let’s rewind back to my Holiday in the States for a quick paragraph or two, shall we? Food in the US is awful. I mean awful. And it all stems for the capitalistic background of the country. If a company in the US can do something to save money (at the cost of, oh, you know, the general well being and health of the country’s population – they will). For example, for some strange reason the importation of sugar into the US is rather expensive – which is strange considering the US is right next to where most of the sugar in the world is grown, and even more strange considering the fact that we’re one of the richest nations in the world (fuck you Norway; you didn’t work for your NOK, you just happened to have oil off your shore – big deal. Iceland; you failed). So – in the place or real sugar, companies now use high fructose corn syrup. For everything. I mean everything. Even salad dressing. Ever put sugar on your salad? I didn’t think so.

So. I tried to healthy when I went back to the US. But everything was just so delicious that I couldn’t stop. And really, I was on holiday in theory. So, who cares? Well, I did care – quite a lot actually. It was disgusting how much shit I ate when I was home. But there are so many amazingly/uniquely Cincinnatian food items that I just couldn’t pass up. Like the wide array of ice cream parlors the city has to offer its residents. I couldn’t resist. And every time I ate a meal in a restaurant instead of at home (which would be almost every meal – just to clarify; all I did was plan my days around where I was going to eat, because that’s all there was to do. Eat and be merry), I couldn’t help but order the most American item on the menu. Not by choice you see, it just happened that way.

But in a way, I’m glad that the US attacked my mouth. I’ve never had the flu before, at least not that I can remember, and I had no idea it took such a toll on your body weight. I didn’t even realise that I was lookin’ rail thin – legit. And I only ran once when I was in Cincinnati. Which was hard as shit, all 10K (6 miles), because the flu depleted all my muscle mass. Awesome. So I’m glad my body reabsorbed all the nutrients it needed… even if that nutrient came in the form of saturated fat and high fructose corn syrup. I’m just now feeling 90% better than I was feeling in December. I can’t say that I’m 100% cured form the flu… as it seems that it is still lingering a bit. But I have rid myself of the saturated fat and high fructose corn syrup, and have returned to the eating habits I’ve become accustomed to here in Amsterdam; soy everything.

I would say it’s safe to say I’m a vegetarian these days.  Not by choice, it just happened that way. Growing up on a farm and having steak every night (from the cows that used to graze in the green pastures right next to my childhood home), is quite repetitive and exhausting. Especially when you’re served steak every night – because it’s free. I am just not a meat person. And when I do eat meat these days my stomach doesn’t even know what to do. Someone served me proscutto back in December and I about barfed at the sight of raw meat. It’s just unappetizing. IN fact, when I was at my parent’s house over Christmas, I made dinner for my family one night. Of course the recipes came from one of my favourite food blogs – the Smitten Kitchen 9thogh these days Deb’s been letting me down with the recipes that she’s posting; they’re just boring and dull – sorry Deb). Roasted Red Pepper soup with Broccoli Rabe Pizza. It was amazingly delicious (Lekker, in fact), but when I served dinner; my Dad and brother’s first response was, ‘Where’s the meat?’

Do people really eat meat with every meal? That’s a legit question; I just don’t know. And I just don’t see how it’s healthy or practical.

Flying back to/bringing the subject, back to, Amsterdam yet again – I have decided that Amsterdam is amazing in the Summer. Cute in the winter. But amazing in the Summer.

And going outside these days just blows big balls. I mean, really, who wants to walk outside when it’s 0C? And since Amsterdam is situation on the North Sea, the ocean always makes its presence known – via the stinging and wet chill in the air, that usually smacks your face in a constant hammering motion… when riding your bike around the city. One of my favourite things to do in Amsterdam is just hop on my bike and go. Go where? I don’t know. But al the biking lanes make it so easy to see the city and just expel the beauty that is Amsterdam. Except that’s only really the case in the summer. It’s just frigid outside. And dark. I mean it gets dark here early. Really early. It used to be about 4:30pm, now it’s about 5:30. Which means the days are getting longer. And that’s nice, because I’m anticipating spring, like a fat kid looks forward to cake. Legit.

I can’t wait until I can wear shorts again – outside.

But until then, I’m enjoying cooking dinner almost every night, sometimes sipping on some red wine (alcohol somehow found it’s way back into my life while I was in the states, continued the trend for Januaray, and it now slowly being eliminated once again – I just don’t like to drink. Coupled with the small fact that alcohol is just cleverly marketed poison).

I’m starting to run again as well. Which is so nice, because it’s been such a vital part of my life for the past year, and it vanished for the month of December (due to the flu), as well as the month of January (due to my laziness and the bitter cold). Running in the cold is just, not, fun.

But I have made it my goal to run all of the Scandinavian capital city’s marathons – and my friend David is joining in on the fun. Last summer I completed my first half marathon in October, and the time has come for a full one. In May. In Copenhagen. Ah – the Danes. The Stockholm marathon is already sold out, so that’s out of the question… And I’ve decided it’s only practical to do 3 of the 5 cities this year, as most of the races are held in the fall – except for Copenhagen. So right now it’s Copenhagen, possibly Helsinki, and Reykjavík (get there while it’s cheap). And, I really want to run the Berlin marathon as well. So 4 marathons this year should be enough. I can’t wait.

Back to the living situation for one second… as I stated before, I’m still sleeping on my friend David’s couch. Hopefully that’s only the case until next week. When the lease on my very first big kid, one bedroom apartment is (theoretically) set to begin.  A friend of mine here in Amsterdam has set me up with their friend, who just happens to have an apartment near the Jordaan/Westerpark (and right next to the pool where my swim team practices), that they were looking to rent out for one year. It’s super cheap, located in the perfect spot, and is the perfect apartment for me. It even has a little terrace off the bedroom. I can see myself enjoying a nice breakfast and book on summer mornings, already. I have already signed my intentions to lease the apartment with the person who I will be subletting from, and have a meeting with her, and the housing agency, tomorrow.

Somehow I have managed to find an amazing first bid kid job, in Amsterdam, amidst a global economic crisis, and even found a (cheap) perfect apartment near the city centre. How do things always just work out for me? I am very thankful – to everyone that I’ve met during my stay here in Amsterdam; that has made my current situation possible. And look forward to the adventures in Europe that are yet to come; such as – joining a friend and his family at their holiday home in June… in Italy. On the beach. And just a mere one-hour train ride from Rome. Oh Europe.