tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296592922011-12-30T17:18:14.193+01:00Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.comBlogger501100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-7861931184949348622009-07-23T15:23:00.002+02:002009-07-23T15:49:43.383+02:00

I know, I know -- worst blogger ever! As I near the close of my third summer in Europe -- a pretentious opening clause if there ever was one -- I find I just have less and less to say about the minutiae of life here. And apparently, I don't have the energy to come up with a theme either. So here are some random things I've been noticing lately.*All of the bakeries in my neighborhood are closed

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-25594479001287877082009-07-01T14:41:00.003+02:002009-07-01T15:24:13.715+02:00

Being spontaneous usually turns out great. You do something, you have more fun than expected, and everything turns out fine.But sometimes being spontaneous means standing in line for over 8 hours with strangers.My first weekend in Paris, I went to the French Open. I wasn't going to drop $700 or so to see the men's final, so instead I bought grounds' passes to watch the boys' and girl's finals

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-74641882220313423212009-06-23T15:53:00.002+02:002009-06-23T16:26:10.009+02:00

Paris is famously clean. Water is run through the streets at regular intervals, sweeping away all of the dust, dirt, and detritus of the city streets. It is one of the things that makes Paris a beautiful city to live in -- how can something so old be so clean?Except dog poop, that is. People seem better about this than they used to be, but it is still somewhat unpleasant to walk out your door

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-73950903929809911552009-06-11T10:44:00.001+02:002009-06-11T10:47:49.269+02:00

Bonjour! I arrived in Paris on Friday, emerging from Charles De Gaulle with my luggage despite three flights on three different airlines. Sadly, Tina had to remain in Philadelphia, leaving me to sit next to a quiet young Irish woman for the transatlantic journey. When the pilot announced the in-flight entertainment, Hotel for Dogs, she was moved to say her only spoken words: “Oh, balls.”I

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-17448286731680177292009-04-20T03:41:00.002+02:002009-04-20T03:53:15.993+02:00

It's official: Expat Mike will continue for a third major installment this summer from Paris, France. Parlez vous Francais? Not so much, but my first Francais class is tomorrow night. After 7 90-minute classes at the Parks & Rec Center, I'm sure to attain fluency. It's a fait accompli!Or maybe I'll just get to pepper my English with even more pretentious French phrases. Mon dieu! Vis-a-vis!

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-67917818743731406342008-12-03T00:56:00.004+01:002008-12-03T03:06:59.490+01:00

A spontaneous trip to a Macanese convenience store means an opportunity for me to spend an hour putzing around 250 square feet of consumable goods. I was immediately gripped by the refrigerator case, which contained an incredible range of preposterous drink choices, as seen here. Not too surprising for a country that produces Chewy Lard Bites, but gripping nonetheless.Of course this means a

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-70375701636521991962008-11-30T22:19:00.004+01:002008-12-01T00:09:20.587+01:00

Our trip to Macau began with a late-night flight to LAX and a surreal trip through the Tom Bradley International Terminal, which must be the worst airport terminal in the country. It is barely lit and packed with greasy long-haul travelers trampling on broken escalators. Oh, and there is nothing to eat past security. Not that I wanted to eat after personally witnessing (and smelling) a child

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-24950597919091482782008-11-17T02:51:00.003+01:002008-11-17T02:54:25.517+01:00

On Friday night, I leave with Amy (Counselor to the Stars) for a one-week trip to Macau and Hong Kong. My intent is to write at least one or two posts while I'm there as sort of an amuse bouche between longer trips. I have zero time to plan the trip, so it should be fun!

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-80934115404885124892008-10-01T03:08:00.002+02:002008-10-01T03:09:52.382+02:00

I finally found some time to upload my first set of photos from Rome, enjoy the slideshow! This set focuses on travel photos outdoors, plus Pompeii.

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-52643424593989373682008-08-21T16:15:00.004+02:002008-08-28T17:11:00.791+02:00

Warning: This post may make you hate me.My opportunity to stay in Italy was facilitated by a workshop in higher education policy in Bellagio, a fancy town on the edge of Lake Como. I am working on a project about higher education policy in developing countries, and our final meeting was sponsored by the Rockefeller Foundation, which owns a villa here. Villa isn’t quite the word for it, it is an

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-58644244847977260822008-08-20T13:44:00.001+02:002008-08-20T13:45:58.418+02:00

After my not-so-wonderful experience with Venice – which I’ve now learned is not so unusual, among both Italians and Americans – I happily moved on to Florence. Getting there was quite an experience. To get around, I have been showing up at train stations empty handed and buying tickets from an electronic kiosk a few minutes before the train departs. It’s not as risky as it sounds. Trains are

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-30364735416641105342008-08-18T11:19:00.001+02:002008-08-18T11:20:17.790+02:00

I’ve heard from a loyal reader asking why I haven’t talked about Italian TV. Well, Italian TV is so horrible that making fun of it was almost too obvious. I have never even gone past channel 20, and I have satellite. But just for you, by request, a flip through the channels at midnight on a Saturday. Please let me emphasize now that I did not make any of these up, and that I haven’t

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-5793163030818496942008-08-13T21:56:00.002+02:002008-08-13T22:13:45.717+02:00

I never know how far to go with this blog. Is it ungrateful to say Venice is like the Mall of America, with a church plaza instead of an amusement park? Is it petty to grumble how big Italian families like to congregate obliviously in intersections, making it literally impossible for anyone else to pass? Or that compared to Rome, the churches are crap? OK, that one might send me straight to

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-45410956439353158812008-08-12T10:33:00.001+02:002008-08-12T20:26:03.335+02:00

Ketchup here is manufactured by McDonald’s. It has big multicolored letters and is clearly marketed only to children, the only Italians gauche enough to want ketchup. Also, there is now a McDonald’s just across the square from the Pantheon. Literally, you look at the Pantheon, turn around, and look at McDonald’s. That might be considered an ethnic slur.The BBC now warns you if there is flash

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-185484468058754392008-08-08T21:14:00.002+02:002008-08-08T21:19:24.680+02:00

After nearly a month on my own in Italy, I have a chance to enjoy Swizerland with a friend, Gaele, who I met during my Fulbright program. She is a researcher at the university in Lausanne on Lake Geneva. The first thing I learn is that the name Lake Geneva is simply propaganda by the city; the real name is Lake Leman, which I have never heard in my life. So good work, Geneva.I take easyJet,

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-90835501220250867782008-08-02T21:06:00.001+02:002008-12-08T23:11:45.164+01:00

When people come back from Italy, bragging about their wonderful vacations, remember this: a good number of them are lying. Every day, I see American tourists dragging their sad butts around Rome in the burning sun, desperately swigging water from overpriced bottles. They look pretty good around 9:30am, but by noon they are frantically flipping through their guidebooks looking for a decent place

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-14941267109433088012008-07-31T20:27:00.001+02:002008-08-01T21:23:24.993+02:00

So I’ve read a lot of fine books here – Maurice, for example – but I decided to read some beach novels too. First I read The Rule of Four, the DaVinci Code knockoff from a few years ago, and then I discovered two medical thrillers in the bookcase in my apartment. They have chapter titles like, “MALICE AFORETHOUGHT.” One was a James Patterson Women’s Murder Club book called The 5th Horseman. It

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-84948123604333765932008-07-29T20:28:00.006+02:002008-12-08T23:11:45.353+01:00

When I lived in Holland, I famously waited until the last week before I left Amsterdam. Now I kick myself for not seeing Utrecht or Maastricht or Bruges. My natural state is to nest in my apartment and do things within walking distance. Trains are kind of a pain, bus drivers aren’t that helpful, I don’t know. It’s just easier to stay near home, but I’m not making that mistake again.The one

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-73399940035551335112008-07-21T21:05:00.002+02:002008-12-08T23:11:45.697+01:00

Meet the Candy Aquamatic 3, surely the finest washing machine Italy had to offer in 1962. Candy lives in one of the closets underneath my loft bed, behind a rolling staircase. Despite her name, our start is not particularly sweet.For one, Candy does not make a good housemate. She is loud and shakes the house like an earthquake with her exertions. The neighbors are already well aware of her

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-49731872795524299992008-07-21T21:00:00.002+02:002008-12-08T23:11:45.850+01:00

The city is visibly emptying of actual Italians. This morning I walked up a major street near here, the Via Merulana, and realized that I was seeing fewer Romans and a lot more tourists, inevitably walking in pairs and packs. It is not a good feeling. It's like you've moved into Euro Disney, where the only locals are waiters and assorted colorful characters who dress up for your benefit.To make

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-32630957939301014432008-07-16T19:10:00.002+02:002008-07-16T19:30:49.973+02:00

My days here have already fallen into a pattern. I wake up at some unpredictable hour, varying from 5:30am to 12:30 pm. I putz around, turn the a/c back on, and drink an entire bottle of water in one gulp. (For some reason, I am always dehydrated here.) I watch terrible news coverage on the only channel I get in English, BBC World. Within a half hour they've already started repeating a "news

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-27376660539830598332008-07-13T14:22:00.002+02:002008-07-13T14:27:45.603+02:00

One of the crazy things about moving to a new place, as opposed to just visiting, is that you realize that the main aspects of survival that used to be handled by hotels are now up to you. For example, how to eat, sleep, and get around. How to meet people and speak to them in a language they will understand. How to operate the toaster and the washing machine. None of these are givens in a new

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-40540307761903177682008-07-13T14:12:00.004+02:002008-07-14T13:21:29.825+02:00

I didn't realize that my trip to Italy was going to include its own goodwill ambassador in seat 16A. Straight from central casting, Tina is a middle-aged Italian mother, 4'8" tall and wide, with a pink digital camera and black security belt hanging as jewelry from her neck. She has stretched her body right across 16B."I think you're in my seat," I say."Ohhh I was hoping this would all be to

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-62602594371451543682008-07-13T14:08:00.002+02:002008-07-13T14:11:38.776+02:00

After two years of recriminations and lies, Expat Mike has officially returned for six weeks while I live in Italy. I have actually traveled quite a bit since last we saw each other. (You've never looked so thin, by the way.) Last summer I was in Ireland for a week, and in January I spent 10 days in South Africa. Both were excellent trips with little time for caustic commentary.I've been

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-57520782175016479942007-06-15T22:37:00.000+02:002007-06-15T22:42:31.448+02:00

Dearest Expat Mike fans (all three of you!): I will be traveling to Ireland during the last week in August, and I plan to blog at least a few times while I'm there. I am also supposed to travel to an unknown exotic locale in February 2008 (it was once South Africa, now up in the air), where I will also blog. Finally, there are plans to attend the Beijing Olympics in August 2008. So if all of

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1157384571224774682006-09-04T17:41:00.000+02:002006-09-30T20:33:03.393+02:00

Well, any idea I had about continuing this blog once I returned to the U.S. turned out to be utterly naive. I just don't have the inclination to work on a blog during the small amounts of free time that I do manage to snag. It's too bad, because I did have kind of fun ideas about things I could do. Maybe once I get tenure, or maybe next summer. We'll see. Thanks to everyone for reading and

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1156623385998873482006-08-26T21:35:00.000+02:002006-09-04T17:49:43.563+02:00

Some random, idiosyncratic suggestions from someone who has only been here for three months. But hey, that's longer than you've been here.Take the overnight flight, but do not sleep. Stay up all day, and then crash around 9pm. Otherwise you'll have jet lag for a week.From the airport, you just pay 3.60 euros and take the train to Amsterdam Centraal. Out front you can pick up a tram to your

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1156518639044033032006-08-25T16:40:00.000+02:002007-02-09T23:37:57.573+01:00

The only two places in Holland I have visited are Amsterdam and Enschede. That is so incredibly lame I can hardly put it into words, but somehow I managed not to leave the city unless absolutely necessary. Everything in Holland can be reached by public transportation in two hours, for Christ's sake. I'm leaving in a few days, so it is now or never.I planned a day trip to The Hague. I wanted

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1156354875795885662006-08-23T19:21:00.000+02:002007-02-06T22:50:08.460+01:00

With my only once-a-week record of posting these days, you might be thinking that I've run out of things to say. Not true! I think about writing all the time, I just don't actually do it very often.Blogging is surprisingly stressful, and it takes away energy from other things I'm supposed to be writing to keep my job. And that makes me feel guilty in ways that just blowing off time does not,

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1155680178693595132006-08-15T23:21:00.000+02:002006-08-23T22:16:48.516+02:00

My flight to Barcelona was as smooth as stroopwafel honey. Time from my apartment door to the Schiphol gate: exactly one hour. None of the flight restrictions in the UK apply within the rest of the EU, so it's smooth sailing over here. One poor fool brought her stuff in a transparent plastic bag, and she looked very sad.Not as sad as the people wanting to go to Heathrow, as all those flights

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1155311213855354712006-08-11T17:25:00.000+02:002006-08-11T18:02:56.146+02:00

I've been holed up in the apartment with a bad cold ever since the visit of Typhoid Amy, who can be seen here cursing my respiratory system. I seem to be recovering after a couple of days of full-body, pain-surging-through-your-arms sneezes and coughing-up chunks-of-lung. Amy, meanwhile, has blogged our days together, leaving me free to do other things.A few days inside has given me plenty of

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1155113216029500992006-08-09T09:31:00.000+02:002006-08-10T06:29:56.906+02:00

As emotions go, pride eludes me. The closest I get to pride is "pleased" or "hey, that's cool." It confuses people. I get a lot of, "Aren't you happy about that?" As I get older, I've learned to fake it just to avoid stares of incomprehension.The notion of gay pride eludes me even more. I can understand being proud of your accomplishments. I can understand being proud of your children.

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1154094758688954532006-07-28T15:43:00.000+02:002007-02-11T14:08:49.736+01:00

Sure, you love World War II. You've read all the books. You even celebrated the 4th of July by reenacting the first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan. But how can you make WWII... delicious?It's a simple answer, my friend. Bastogne! Like the sands of Omaha Beach, Bastogne! crumbles into your hand, reminding you of fallen comrades. But wait until you put them in your mouth. The faint taste

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1154094033900045952006-07-28T15:32:00.000+02:002006-07-28T15:41:15.176+02:00

It was Spontanous Parade Weekend in Amsterdam, um, six days ago. Not a single warning provided! Shame, shame on city government.This was about the Israeli-Lebanon War. (Are we calling it that yet in the U.S., or are we still sticking with euphemisms?) It was better attended than the Pot Parade, but the dance music wasn't nearly as good. Haircut quality was up 30% though.

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1153918005276574962006-07-26T14:34:00.000+02:002006-07-26T22:42:04.933+02:00

The Emmy nominations were so horrible this year, I decided to put together my own awards. Announcing the Expat Mike TV Awards 2006. The winner is starred and can accept their trophy at my house, anytime. Call me.The biggest surprise was that Big Love swept the Drama awards this year. I thought Big Love was quite good, but looking back on it, the acting was just superb. There were some

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1153311762768658942006-07-19T14:12:00.000+02:002006-07-19T14:23:46.740+02:00

In our continuing series on Weird Local Foods, I present you with stamppot, the traditional Dutch peasant dish. A local guy absolutely insisted that I try it, and it was the least I could do. Even though it was nearly five euros at the grocery store, which is ridiculous.Stamppot and I did not get along. Stamppot is really just a big mushy pile of potatoes and kale. It's yuckiness was enhanced

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1153226739652690862006-07-18T14:15:00.000+02:002006-07-19T14:44:14.013+02:00

Just some amazing music you should try out, if you haven't heard it already:AlbumsJosh Rouse, 1972. I've been on an alt-country kick for awhile now, and this is probably the best, except for the actual best...Download: "James"The Jayhawks, Rainy Day Music. J'adore this album. If you don't like this album, you're dead. Gorgeous melodies.Download: "Stumbling through the Dark"Fiona Apple,

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1152884223942715462006-07-14T15:15:00.000+02:002006-07-14T15:44:09.903+02:00

Remember when I told you about Ayaan Hirsi Ali, the Dutch legislator who was being kicked out of the country for lying on her asylum application? She's in DC now working for a right-leaning think tank (which is too bad, she's not all that right-wing, really). Christopher Hitchens thinks her book, The Caged Virgin, is the bomb.The good news for her is that the Dutch immigration minister, a very

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1152475323801854472006-07-09T21:19:00.000+02:002006-07-10T18:47:03.416+02:00

I have been awfully hard on this wonderful country. It's just not that funny to talk about all the good things about a place. So as sort of a disclaimer, here's 10 things about the Netherlands that I really, really enjoy.1. Public transportation. I know, it's kind of like saying, "Oh Post Office, I do love you so!" But it's so easy to love. Everything is on time, from trams to buses to

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1152032592584229362006-07-04T18:16:00.000+02:002006-07-05T18:14:54.210+02:00

Dearest Netherlands,There are so many wonderful things about you: your English-speaking people, fascinating architecture, quiet canals, and superb public transportation. You do so many things well, it seems petty to focus so relentlessly on your flaws.That said, your comprehensive assault on my ability to sleep cannot continue. I may be merely a visitor here, but I deserve a decent night's

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1151764983608400422006-07-01T14:59:00.000+02:002006-07-01T22:20:14.853+02:00

Sadly, in all lives a time comes when you must stop analyzing the dryer and do some real work. I was scheduled to give a talk at my sponsor university, Twente, about a two hour train ride from Amsterdam. Twente lies on the far outskirts of the Netherlands, only a few kilometres from the German border, in a small metropolis called Enschede.Europe isn't all cutesy houses and snobby über-trendy

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1151433615143702052006-06-27T19:44:00.000+02:002006-06-27T21:16:42.006+02:00

You'll be surprised to learn that I'm not the most adventurous person. One of my fine colleagues sarcastically wonders when I'm finally going to get over to the Red Light District, bang a hooker and score some weed. It ain't gonna happen. Some people find those things exciting, but I find them kind of sad. Oh, and I'm kind of a wimp when it comes to that stuff.Anyway, it could hardly compare

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1151345501956541982006-06-26T19:32:00.000+02:002006-06-26T20:11:41.966+02:00

I get a lot of questions here at ExpatMike Centraal, but this is definitely the most popular. It probably says something that it is my least favorite one to answer, and this entry will definitely lack the amusing bon mots from Dutch society that I use to cover up anxiety about my research.I have two primary projects here, neither of which is going particularly well. The project that I outlined

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1150900000966601512006-06-21T15:49:00.001+02:002006-06-21T22:47:05.030+02:00

Every day, I walk the streets of Amsterdam. I see Dutch people everywhere. They are biking all over the place, usually while smoking, dialing the phone, and stabilizing an 8-year-old child.I have concluded that I am, quite possibly, the fattest person in Amsterdam. In over two weeks, I have never seen a person bigger than me. I am setting Dutch world records, and in all the wrong

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1150751867898571992006-06-19T22:33:00.000+02:002006-06-19T23:17:51.680+02:00

When you go to a foreign country, it seems only polite to learn a little bit of the native language. If you're there for less than 10 days, you can safely learn "please," "thank you," "sorry," and "I'm an American, get out of my way!" It's just the classy thing to do. But if you're there for three months, you should try a bit harder.The Netherlands may be the only country where native people

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1150536246561423172006-06-17T10:26:00.000+02:002006-06-21T15:48:55.370+02:00

You knew it was coming. I had to comment on TV. There is so much for you to know, so sit down and let's get cracking.First, there is the scheduling. Dutch TV scheduling can best be characterized as anarchy. Friends starts at 8:05pm each night, Oprah at 11:45pm. Except Oprah also plays in the afternoon at 4:06pm, where it conflicts with the first half of Dr. Phil, which starts at 4:45pm. I

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1150532519292199392006-06-17T10:02:00.000+02:002006-06-17T10:21:59.300+02:00

Is it:a) Pro surfer and Wentworth Miller-lookalike Kelly Slater?b) Desperate Housewives star Eva Longoria?c) Nip/Tuck gender-bender Famke Janssen?d) Boring Supermodel Claudia Schiffer?Answer:Savvy readers would note that c) Famke Janssen, was born in Amsterdam. Indeed, her Dutch is flawless. (Well, it sounded pretty good to me.) But in fact the most correct answer is e) All of the above.

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1150221303900526652006-06-13T19:29:00.000+02:002006-06-16T22:22:47.790+02:00

Did you know there were different kinds of dryers? I didn't.There are heat dryers, which you have just called "dryers," because that's what dryers do, and it's redundant. But in the land of Oz, there are also "condenser dryers," that use no heat at all, but somehow claim to dry your clothes. With tumbling and devil-magicks, apparently, because how the hell do you dry clothes without heat?This

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1150217718477886342006-06-13T18:46:00.000+02:002006-06-15T17:35:19.090+02:00

One of the benefits of living on a busy street seems to be a bird's-eye view of local parades.The ever-parental Dutch government sends a letter warning you that a parade is coming, its topic and approximate length. Because you might want to move to Hengelo or close your windows. Which would be crazy, because we've been pushing 90 degrees all week, and the fan is a bizarre and unknown notion

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29659292.post-1150216892786178452006-06-13T18:29:00.000+02:002006-06-14T14:07:51.473+02:00

You can safely publish that in the Journal of Duh, I know. I've been here before, and everyone knows all about the canals. But you really do forget how pretty they are, and how many there are. This city is just lousy with canals.To recap, I've been here a little over a week, and I feel pretty much settled at this point. My apartment is located in the Jordaan neighborhood, just a couple of

Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379209624065639083noreply@blogger.com1