Why I Love Wonder Woman

My fourth birthday party was dedicated to Wonder Woman. I had the WW logo on my glasses, my cake, my party favours, my balloons, and I even tried to dress up like Princess Diana of Paradise Island by wearing a blue leotard and taping tin foil to my wrists.

I had a pink plastic jump rope lasso of truth and a backstory. Since I had just moved from an island off the shores of Korea my backstory was rooted in truth. I was a half-Amazonian princess raised on a magical island who left her magical island to be raised in the world of men.

As I think of my backstory, or what comic book fans might call my "origin" myth, I'm reluctant to give too many details. Why? Well that little backstory I concocted in my mind that day and told to all the party guests and my insistence that they not call me by real name because I was now "Wonder Girl" - well that story has stayed with me all my life. It's partially what inspired the series of books I want to write.

The funny thing is, it wasn't the TV show that starred Linda Carter who gave me my love for Wonder Woman. It was the comics. They belonged to an older girl who lived near my grandparents, but by the end of the summer I had the action in the panels nearly memorised and when my birthday rolled around all I wanted to be just like her. Even if just for a day.

Wonder Woman comics weren't popular when I started buying my own comic books seven years later. Still, Wonder Woman remained my favourite even when pitted up against other female superheroes with incredible powers like Stan Lee's "Jean Grey". I was in awe of Jean, but I never wanted to be her.

I'm still a serious comic book fan. I am a frequent visitor to comic book related message boards and I wouldn't pass up a chance to go to ComicCon. I wouldn't go out of my way either though. I'm more addicted nowadays to Alan Moore's work than Stan Lee's continuing legacy.

But then there's Wonder Woman. There's that memory I have of me at that birthday party when somehow the world was a perfect place and I was going to grow up to be a hero and have an invisible plane and the possibility that one day I might save the world.

That's why I went and bought The Wonder Woman Chronicles from Henk's Comics when I was in Amsterdam. They didn't have it in the shop, so I ordered it and paid to have it sent to me. I have a soft spot for their shop. I bought my Tardis key chain there, my The Walking Dead t-shirt, and lots of comics. Though to actually ship me my WW was more than they charged me. Will definitely have to go back and buy more comics from them.

Now let me explain why coming home to my WW Chronicles was the cherry on a near perfect day.

I took the 10h17 train from Gare de Lyon with the intention of possibly going to Fontainebleau to have a coffee, browse some shops, and write near the reflecting pool behind the chateau for awhile.

They rearranged the bus system. The trip that should be 15 minutes max ended up taking one hour and twenty-two minutes.

I had a terribly strong espresso than had to take a pee in a loo that someone had obviously just taken a massive poo in while holding my breath.

Every shop I wanted to pop into was closed.

Walked all the way to the chateau, spotted the swans, ducks, and carp and ended up walking all the way back to a bakery to buy a sandwich that a swan brazenly ripped out of my hands minus a bit of mayonnaise and ham.

Found a beautiful spot on the chateau grounds behind a pedestal (sans statue) to hide behind, had a puff, wrote a bit, and watched waterbugs. Waterbugs are beautiful to watch. They make ripples that are completely different than fish or rain droplets or anything else I've ever seen.

On the way back towards the chateau rescued a duck from a mean little Chinese boy. I'm not sure what scared him more, my accent in Mandarin or that I told him he was doing a naughty thing. Whatever it was, another Chinese couple also scurried off.

The duck I rescued escorted me down the road a bit, met an old French lady, escorted her a little bit, and then another old lady came and fed it some bread. It also got a sandwich out of me. I had a nice little talk with the old lady for awhile and then we both agreed it was very hot, and after wishing each other a good day we went our separate ways but not before she assured me that someone else would come and feed the adorably tame duck we were both smitten with.

I bought ingredients to make delicious pizzas (artichokes, sun-dried tomatoes, mozzarella, Parmesan, arugula, and Parma ham). While waiting for the bus (which I missed) back to the train station I helped a lady find a perfume for her daughter and then waited for the next bus. Again the rearrangement of the buses screwed me, so I hopped into a taxi and watched the beautifully lit forest of Fontainebleau from behind a lightly tinted window while people complained about Sarkozy on the radio.

Train station. Paris.

Back home the package was waiting for me. Old school Wonder Woman was all about empowerment. The first female superhero was as strong as Hercules. As wise as Athena. More beautiful than Aphrodite. She also wore a skirt back then in 1941 when she made her first appearance in ALL-STAR COMICS #8.

William Moulton Marston's imagination (influenced heavily by his wife) created a heroine for little girls to look up to and I did. I'm hoping that reading the old comics will inspire me to be a hero like they did all those years ago.

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Chicken Soup for All

One of the things I promised myself I would do, if I ever decided to open a restaurant was that I would feed people for free, so one of the things I'm working on as I move towards my deadline to move to Amsterdam August/September 2012 is finding delicious, budget friendly recipes because I'd like to open my restaurant one day a week where it's free to everyone and anyone.

Hence my chicken soup.

I don't eat soup out of a can, box, jar, not ever. It seems wrong somehow. If I want chicken soup what I do is buy two roasting chickens, roast them, eat the legs and thighs, and save the rest for the soup. For this recipe I stuffed and roasted the chickens with fennel, onions, cloves, green cardamons, black cardamons, and whole cloves of garlic after rubbing both the inside cavity and the outside of the chickens with olive oil, lemon juice, dried thyme, and dried rosemary.

Use the jus for whatever you're eating the dark meat with, but reserve about half for the chicken stock. The follow morning strip the chickens of skin and other undesirable things, making sure to put aside all the bones (except the third wing joint), leftover juices and fat, and cut the leftover chicken meat into bite size pieces. I also removed the cardamons and the cloves from the carcass before adding the bones, leftover garlic, chopped up stalk of fennel, an onion cut in half, and then salt and pepper to taste.

Make sure the water covers the bones completely and let boil for 2-3 hours, taste, and then reduce to a simmer. Let boil another 2 hours. Pour the contents of the soup pot into a fine mesh strainer, discard everything, and return strained broth to the original pot.

Here are the rest of the ingredients I used:

1/4 cup of peeled and finely chopped white potatoes
2 1/2 cups of peeled white potatoes cut into slightly bigger than bite sized pieces
2 carrots peeled and sliced (make sure to increase the thickness of the slices along the thinner part so all the carrots cook evenly)
1 zucchini sliced into fours, then chopped into bite sized cubes
1/2 cup white mushrooms sliced
1 onion cut into quarters
2 stalks of fennel (1/2 cup) cut into slices
1/8 cup fresh parsley
Salt and Pepper

Add the 1/4 cup of finely chopped potatoes and the bite sized piece of chicken and let boil about 15 - 20 minutes. When you notice the bits of potato have begun to break down (it thickens the broth a bit naturally for a more hearty taste), add the rest of the potatoes, fennel, onion, and carrots. Let simmer 10 - 15 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste and continue to simmer on lowest possible heat with the lid ajar.

Twenty minutes prior to serving, increase the heat to a slight boil and add the zucchini, mushrooms, and salt and pepper to taste if needed. When the zucchini is soft, yet still firm, turn off the heat, add the fresh parsley, taste, and add salt or pepper if needed. Cover for 2 minutes.

Ladle into soup bowls with just slightly more chicken and vegetables than broth. Serve with homemade bread rolls (recipe to come later) and sweet butter (called beurre doux in French).

Now the real point of this recipe, which will make so much soup I'll have to freeze it (about 3 liters or about 13 cups of soup), is how healthy and cheap it is to make.

Chickens: 11 euros
Vegetables:  3 euros

Now sixteen euros isn't deducting the fact that I served the thighs for two separate meals, so I really only used about 5 euros worth of chicken for the soup. Based on the average serving size, from one batch of soup I could feed over a dozen people.

When I open the kitchen it will be from 12 - 2 pm and once the food is gone - it'll be gone, but with 100 euros I could make 12 pots of chicken soup and feed 150 people. Now I can't realistically make 12 pots of soup in my kitchen or in the kitchen I hope to have in Amsterdam even, but I could make 3 or 4.

I could feed 50 people and spend less than I might spend on a dinner out.

This is part of my plan in Amsterdam. I'm going to feed people. I'm going to put the word out there that on Monday afternoons there is a place where you get a delicious, healthy meal and for free whether you're a successful businessman, a student, or someone who just wants to save a little extra money that Monday.

I'm going to put my faith in my chicken soup. This will be the first thing I'll serve for free lunch. Now I just need to find forty seven similar recipes to get me through a year of Mondays.

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A'dam in Pictures

Graffitti near the Noordermarkt.

A heron in the Vondelpark.

Free stuff on a stoop. The sign basically says if you need something here, take it but don't take the baskets please.

The kitty who I kept company who lost more weight than I did!

The flowers I bought that stayed alive forever!

A sign in the Jordaan.

I'm pretty sure the person who did this also did the graffitti I saw on the last trip that I thought might be a Banksy but now I think it's someone else.

This appeared overnight near where I was staying.

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Book Buying in Amsterdam

Maybe it's because so many Dutch people in Amsterdam speak English or because of the expatriate population, but there are a surprising number of places to buy used or new books in the city for us non-Dutch.

Now many of these bookshops were found sort of randomly and because I never write down addresses but instead just memorise how to get back to places, you'll have to have a little patience if you decide to follow my map to books, but I promise it's worth it.

New Books in English

There are several places to buy new books in English (if you can stomach the price tag, which I did a few times because I didn't find the books used) especially on the Spui. There is The American Book Center (ABC) which has it's own Espresso Book machine, The American Bookshop, and Waterstone's all within minutes (plus the Begijnhof is nearby which is a must see).

In the Jordaan area you have the English Bookshop, which sells both new and used titles as well as serves tea and had many events for children and adults.

It's worth it to walk into any Dutch bookshop. There might not be an overwhelming number of books in English, but you'll always find a few. I love the bookshop on the Prinsengracht (just next to the yogurt place everyone seems to love but I don't think is very good) near the Jordaansplein. It has several English books (new) and really great staff.

Used Books in English

Now the easiest place for used books in terms of location are either the booksellers who sell on the Spui on Fridays for the Boekenmarkt. Lots of small booksellers in Amsterdam come here on Fridays so it can save you a bit of time. For example I love this sort of passageway on the Kloveniersburgwal that I only discovered because I was looking for The Book Exchange, which is perhaps the most massive used English bookstore in Amsterdam and yet all the sellers in the passage sell at the Boekenmarkt on Fridays (The Book Exchange does not have a stall there to the best of the best of my knowledge however).

Another place to find used books are the other markets around Amsterdam. I've found comics and books at the Noordermarkt (only on Monday mornings) and the Waterlooplein (every day except Sundays I think).

Also near the Spui, along Spuistraat (around no. 234) is a tiny little bookshop that has lots of used books, many first editions, and other goodies. The guy who owns it opens rather randomly though and I think he overcharged me, but just be vigilant because I've seen some real finds at that shop for example a 1st edition of The Hobbit (American printing) for 250,00 euros. If you pass the Softland coffeeshop, you've gone too far. Also don't smoke there. Go down the street to New Times, it's a much better coffeeshop in this particular area.

Not far from New Times facing another coffeeshop (this is Amsterdam afterall) called Kadinksky's (this shop has many locations, so be sure to note the street name) on Roskamsteeg is my favourite used bookshop in Amsterdam. Here I found an Obelisk Press of Miller's Tropics (before the censorship was lifted) for 8 euros and a great early Richard Brautigan (Trout Fishing in America) for 5 euros along with some other great books such an Olympia Press of Aubrey Beardsley's Under the Hill and a cute little edition of Jack London's White Fang.

Needless to say I spent quite some money on books this trip (I'm guess probably in the 200 euro range), and had a helluva time lugging my books back to Paris with me, but as an avid booklover knows, you can't help yourself. I buy books no matter where I go!

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Thank You!

I've been writing this blog official since April-May of this year and even though I've completely negligent about updating consistently, people keep visiting (mostly thanks to Google's great SEO for Blogger) and so I want to say thank you to everyone who has found this blog and taken a moment to read it.

I have some great posts coming up surely as I've bought a new batch of books in Amsterdam, (I've updated my Reading Table for those interested in seeing what I'm reading), have written perhaps a book (134,000 words now need editing), and am planning on moving to Amsterdam by September 2012 where I will hopefully open up a successful pop-up / living room restaurant with a charitable twist (meaning I'm going to serve lunch on Monday and you pay or don't pay as you want).

In the meantime for people who read my blog regularly, you deserve better, and you're going to get it. I'm back in France, wishing I was in Amsterdam, but ready to get down to business. Thanks for putting up with me again, I've just been very introspective lately and writing other things.

I shall put myself in the corner and think of how to tell you the craziest story EVER. I've yet to put it into text, but have had to tell it to: my boyfriend's mother, the friends who gave me their apartment in Amsterdam, Amsterdammers I met after the "Debbie" incident occurred, my boyfriend, some of my friends in France, and a total of five Amsterdam police officers...

So stayed tuned, but be sure to flog me for my lack of attention to this blog on your way out.

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Amsterdam & Big Decisions

Okay, so I've made a major decision. In 2012 (probably in August or September) I'm moving to Amsterdam.

Now before you think this is a rather rash decision, keep in mind I've been finding it hard to vacation anywhere besides Amsterdam for the past six years. Ever since I spent four months there, living in an apartment I rented from a friend who rented it from a friend who owned a yoga studio (and only used the three bedroom flat I sub-subletted on Saturdays for magic mushroom tea parties), I couldn't stop coming back.

It's not the drugs. I like a puff. It's great for menstral cramps, migrains, and for hangovers. Still even when I lived in A'dam for four months, I actually started treating marijuana like other people treat alcohol. Not every day, sometimes too much, but in a sort of situationally dependent moderation.

Now that the weed issue is cleared up, let me tell you why I was standing on a bridge spanning the Keizergracht about a week ago crying my eyes out. I didn't want to go home this time.

It was raining and the wind was pretty brutal and it was cold and my hair was so wet it was dripping. And yet I still knew I wanted to move to Amsterdam.

So from time to time I'm going to talk about it if only because relocating is a fairly interesting topic and I haven't been an expat maybe since I went to the US for school (and then stayed so long I was no longer considered an expat anymore).


I'm going to start by getting my neighbour to help me with my Dutch (I have a year afterall, I should be learning more Dutch every day!), make plans, find out information, and when the time nears find an apartment.

I can't help it and I know my Dutch friends think it's a bit hilarious, but ik hou van Amsterdam.

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I've been a very bad blogger...

I haven't published a new post in 8 days, which is pretty damn impressive considering how much there's been to report, but the problem is the thing I most want to write about needs clever disguising in terms of changing the names up as to protect the innocent and those who work with this particular innocent who may or may have not given birth to Monsieur Redacteur. See, what I mean by being in need of clever disguising? It might take me a little time to figure it out, but this is a story that must be told.

It's Monday and I would love to go to the Noordermarkt, but the weather is quite crappy (again). This past Saturday was the only truly "sunny day" this trip. But I want to write anyways, so who cares about the weather? I have seen and done everything, the only thing left is to make sure I get the things I ordered like the Wonder Woman Chronicles from Henk on Zeedijk and a melodica I ordered from the music store.

The thing is coming here the way I do is a lot like living here and when I'm on my own I don't do any of the touristy things, but I do admit I tried to take a paddle boat that you can rent around the canals, but got stopped by the bridge on the Lijnbaansgracht that could probably could decapitate you and is really great to see people ducking in their boats to clear. Other than that, I did nothing touristy whatsoever this trip.

So as you say in Holland, but by rolling the r's - sorry. I have been a bad Amsterdam tour guide for this trip as well as a bad blogger, but I have however finished about 1/2 my novel.

And given that's what I planned, to work on my novel, I'm pretty damn happy at the sight of all the printed pages stacked up.

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The Westerkerk's bell is ominous. . .

I haven't been blogging because this trip to be honest, I haven't been doing much of anything except staring at a Word document and wishing words of brilliance would just magically appear (they don't). Sitting in a bamboo chair with a bright purple cushion, staring out at the balcony full of plants (including a naughty plant), and the words aren't coming.

The backs of the houses I can see surround a private garden shared by those who have property on the street level called a hofje in Dutch that is sort of like a courtyard. In Amsterdam the most famous hofje is located on the Spui, called the Begijnhof. There will be, next to the Esprit Cafe a beautiful wooden door and a miniscule little sign. You might see people coming in and out of it. Go inside and take a look.

But for me this view is a bit like Hitchcock's Rear Window, except of course I hope I don't witness a murder. I can see so much of what is going on inside that it's too tempting to not look from time to time (and to be fair I leave the curtains open in case anyone wants to have a look at me). It does inspire me a bit since back at home the view I get when I look at the window is mostly windowless building walls.

So yesterday I got it in my head that I wanted to go scour the Waterlooplein market for vintage clothes. If you love vintage clothes, Amsterdam is a good city for it. Amongst the 9 Straatjes, the Nine Streets (in the Jordaan area) you have lots of shops, but also along the route to Waterlooplein on Nieuwe Hoogstraat there are plenty more including another location for Zipper, which does great mens vintage. On the Waterlooplein you can also find another Episode vintage store, but I think the one on Berenstraat is much better.

I start wandering toward the Waterlooplein, but first I need to withdraw cash. One thing that drives me a bit batty about Holland is that my French bank card isn't accepted at the Albert Hein grocery store or pretty much anywhere else and some of my other complaints are that finding a cash machine, post office, or tobacco shop are pretty tough to do without memorising what is where and how far from this or that.

For example I stay in the Jordan area near Elandsgracht. There are two cash machines on Elandsgracht. One inside the Albert Hein and one outside. There is a tobacco shop on the Elandsgracht, but it's for some reason usually closed which means I either have to go up to the Rozengracht (at Westerkerk) because there's a post office drop off box along the Prisengracht and a tobacconist on the Rozengracht near the other Albert Hein, which doesn't have a cash machine.

And that's just when I'm located at the flat. When I'm out and about, all the other locations come into play. I'm pretty sure how the Dutch handle it is they do everything in their neighbourhood before they go anywhere else. I've been trying to watch the ebb and flow of the locals in my neighbourhood a little bit, and I'm starting to get the sense that why the Amsterdam morning starts later than in Paris is partly for this reason. People are waiting for the tobacconist, post office, and banks to open up at 10 and 11 and since the cafes open at around 8 or 9 (compared to 5 or 6 in Paris), they have coffees and read newspapers while they wait?

These are just some of my observations and they certainly don't apply to all the Amsterdammers. I've seen men hauling garbage and cleaning sidewalks along Warmoerstraat as early as 6 am and there is one place that opens early to accomodate people who work earlier than people living in the posh Jordaan area called Renee's Croissants (it opens at 6h30).

I withdraw cash at Dam Square and continue eastwards. After hitting the shops at Nieuwe Hoogstraat, I continue on to Waterlooplein, but the first thing I pick up in one of the piles on the ground (which can sometimes be as cheap as 1,00 euro a stuk,  piece) that smells like . . . there is no other word for it than butt. It smelled like a dirty butt.

The smell turned me off of looking at clothes (must remember this for the future as was so turned off I could barely even look at my own clothes to put on pj's last night) and thus I turned to books. I turned to books big time.

By the time I arrived home (after a quick stop at the Albert Hein to buy things to cook for dinner) I bought:

The Finnegans Wake Experience, Roland McHugh, Irish Academic Press, 1 euro (Waterlooplein)

A Dictionary of Historical Slang, Eric Partridge, Penguin Reference Books, 5 euros (Book passage*)

Flash and Filligree & The Magic Christian, Terry Southern, 1 euro (Waterlooplein)

White Fang, Jack London, Nelson's Library edition, 4 euros (Book passage*)

Happy Days, Samuel Beckett, Evergreen/Grove, 4,50 euros (Book Exchange)

The Dream Life of Balso Snell &

A Cool Million, Nathaniel West, New Directions, 4 euros (Book passage*)

There's No Business, Charles Bukowski illustrated by R.Crumb, Ecco edition, 6 euros (Book passage*)

* Now let me tell you where this book passage is because it's not far from Waterlooplein and just south on the same canal as Book Exchange on Kloveniersburgwal.

The same booksellers that sell in the "book passage" seem to also make an appearance at the Friday booksale on the Spui. I went of course on Friday and bought three books.

A Good Man is Hard to Find & Other Stories, Flannery O'Connor, 4 euros

Enduring Love, Ian McEwan, 6 euros

The Best of Roald Dahl, hardcover, 5 euros

My favourites out of my two days worth of purchases so far are the Flannery O'Connor stories and the opening to Nathaniel West's The Dream Life of Balso Snell. They're both writers of the grotesques so that might be what appeals to me at this moment. I'm also still enjoying my flirtation with the Beats Burroughs and Kerouac. I'm also remembering why Roald Dahl is such an inspiration to me, hoping to find Anton Corjbin's art book Control in a used bookshop, and planning to write like mad today.

Or at least read.

The cat eats the naughty plant, and apparently that's okay for the kitty. Since I'm housesitting I'm also tending to the naughty plant and you have to break off any of the yellowing leaves, so I couldn't resist setting up this photo (and pressing one of the leaves into my notebook).

Speaking of which, I'll be blogging about my new notebook purchase next!

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Ruimte Festival @ ADM Amsterdam

I wanted to get the history of ADM, the squat I visited, which is to date the greatest squat I have ever seen, but it gets confusing. Or at least it did for me.

On Saturday I spoke with three people associated with ADM. One I met next to a massive pile of rubbish full of things any one could take. It was full of various bicycles in various states, including a rusted up stationary bicycle.

What I learned by the junk pile was that the owner of the property being squatted by ADM was assassinated. Though after talking to the one person who I knew through a friend, they're not sure this juicy tidbit is actually true. Other things I learned by the junk pile but failed to confirm when I talked to the guy who was working security at the front gate is that ADM has been around for 12 years (not 20) and that while they may not accept new squatters, if you have a history with the residents, it's still possible to live there.

(I suppose I should mention now that the guy working security was also tripping on 6 tabs of LSD.)

Now how I got to the Ruimte Festival was interesting (and frustrating). I originally booked a boat through an evironmental agency that squats their boat at the ADM "terrein" (terrain), but although I searched the back of Centraal Station for about 45 minutes I couldn't find it, so I decided to take the other option which was to take the train from Centraal to Sloterdijk and then take the "pendelbus" (shuttlebus) the ADM people had organised for 2,00 euros.

I walked all the way back through Centraal Station to the information center, but the guy didn't seem to understand me. Thankfully the guy right behind me was going to the festival too. Not only did he help me buy my ticket, he also let me use his Dutch discount card to buy it, and hung out with me for a few hours at the festival while he filmed his friends, a boy/girl rapping duo called Fuego, but he also swiped me some apple juice and a stroopwafel from the treats table in the backstage area of the musicians.

I also met some cool 20-somethings from Ghent, Belgium who had come up in one of the guy's grandmother's Volvo. They had to have the car back to grandma by 6 pm on Sunday, but I gave them my mobile number in case they came back. Pieter et Wallit (the name of two of the guys in the band) rocked the house.

Now I cannot possibly explain the ADM terrein to you properly. But here are the highlights in text and pictures:

As if this car wasn't great enough here's the side and the bit inside that first attracted me.

Under the big top.

Pablo & Amelia of Fuego

Pieter et Wallit

Other pictures

All I can say about the ADM Ruimte festival is well, I left at a wimpy hour. It was raining off and on all day and I was ill equipped for the wet and cold. I wish I could have stayed longer, but I didn't have the stamina, so around 12h30, I was back at Centraal Station. Still, despite my inability to party until 5 am I'm pretty proud of myself. I'm not the type to go to parties alone not because I'm rather shy, but I talked to complete strangers.

But that was the vibe. Acceptance, non-conformity, having a good time, and art.

I left wishing the residents of ADM the best. I sincerely hope they're able to keep the place alive, but the only concensus amongst the various people I talked to is that now that squatting has been made illegal in Holland  the future may be bleak for this unique space where there is so much beauty to see that it really took me around 3 hours to notice there was a spaceship right in front of where I'd been standing for 2 of those 3 hours.

It being ADM and being Amsterdam, I admit I inhaled inside the spaceship. If Obama can fess up, I suppose I can too. Did I mention the spaceship had banquet seats inside of (David) Lynch worthy blue velvet?

Dank u wel, ADM! It was lekker!

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The Write Stuff

In case you're at all interested in my writing process (or progress, which there is very little of at the moment sadly), here's a look at what's been kicking around my brain lately.

Sources of Inspiration:

This article in the Guardian has been giving me serious inspiration lately. http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/20/ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one

I also feel heavily inspired by Henry Darger at the moment. I wrote a post about him recently that you can find here.

Robert Louis Stevenson's little book "The Art of Writing". "My First Book", about writing "Treasure Island" has inspired me since the moment I read it, thanks to Monsieur Redacteur who recommended it to me.

Reading William S. Burroughs' "Naked Lunch". The style is just brilliant.

Believe it or not, watching the movie adaptation of L.M Montgomery's "Anne of Green Gables". I saw myself as Anne when I saw it when I was a little girl and it's nice to see I remember what made me feel that way. I am rather dramatic.

Going away to Amsterdam to give my "mad plan" a try.

The Mad Plan

I have concocted this mad plan to write 5,000 words a day during my stay in Amsterdam minus travel days, and three days when people will be coming to visit, though I still plan on getting up early to write as much as I can; which means 5,000 words  x 18 days [would hypothetically] = 90,000 words or, a novel. If I can stick to it.

I've decided I won't edit for the entire period. I'll print the entire document in one go when I get back from Amsterdam and just see what I have. I of course will be using several sources to make sure I don't lose copies of this document such as email to send it myself, Google Docs, and a Darth Vader USB key.



Darth keeps my files safe.



In fact I'm going to plan my days like I'm on a retreat. Early morning walks after feeding and cuddling the cat I'm babysitting during my stay, lots of shopping in the markets for fresh vegetables and other healthy goodies, massages and floats at Koan Float, and an evening constitutional will be part of helping me achieve my mad plan.

Now don't think 5,000 words are by any means normal. The only writer I can think of off the top of my head who writes a healthy dose of "words per day" might be Stephen King. Joyce Carol Oates is also extremely prolithic, but I've never found anything on the details of her writing habits. But I think it's important to aim high. I will literally have nothing to do in Amsterdam except take care of a cat, myself, and write.

I'll be armed with my outline, the one that's been haunting me since my first trip to Amsterdam, which I am becoming more and more convinced is the story I most want to tell and am the most capable of telling.

Last September I told myself I was going to write a novel by September 2011. It reminds me a bit of college and being under the wire. It's exciting if nothing else to challenge myself. As long as I'm writing, that's what really matters in the end anyways.

One day I will type the two words I most long to type. "The End". I'm counting on Amsterdam to inspire me.

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Looking Back (Home)

I'm back home and ready to recount my last few days in Amsterdam. I suppose I should begin with how on my very, very last day (around noon) - I manage to tear a ligament in my calf running for the 10 tram at Marnixplein.

My last day anywhere is always a sort of ritual for me. I always decide where I'll have my "last meal" (the last two trips it was Rainmi and Thaise Snackbar, this trip it was Burger Bar) and go back to a few places I feel nostalgic about. My morning started off on the right foot - I woke up early, sat in the garden along the canal, ate breakfast, and hand-fed two beautiful swans who swam up. Then I went to catch the tram and rip!

Not one to be stopped by a little muscle tear, I went to the Leidseplein on the tram and hobbled around a good distance. I hobbled up Spuistraat and ducked up Kolksteeg street to find Burger Bar  and have my last taste of A'dam. I opted for the Philly Steak with cheddar and bacon and watched it made before my eyes. When I clapped with excited enthusiasm when it was finished, the girl behind the counter simply smiled. Honestly, I've eaten at Burgermeester and while I do like their lamb burgers, if what you want is a delicious burger and fries that is only slightly more expensive than fast(er) food options like McDonald's or Burger King.

While on the topic of what I like to call faster food, Amsterdam does faster food better than most places. It's always slightly healthier than true "fast food" and can be reasonably priced. If you want quality and don't want to pay too much for it, stick to the restaurants I recommend. Two burgers (with 3 extras), drinks, and a large fry at Burger Bar was slighly less than 20,00 euros for example.

If you hit places like Wok to Walk or some of the other similarly concepted Asian takeout places that do whole meal in a Chinese takeout boxes, you can have a delicious meal for as little as 5,00 euros (try the Kantjil & de Tijger's takeout place on Spuistraat for an Indoneasian mangkok takeout or if you want something much more authentic there's a tiny little Indonesian takeout place on Elandsgracht that was amazing and a massive meal cost 6,50 euros).

Oh and did I mention it kept raining? So there I was limping around with this highly ineffective Thermocare heating pad stuck to my leg trying to say good-bye to the city I love, but the weather wasn't cooperating. So when it rained I ducked into coffeeshops. I was saying good-bye to Amsterdam afterall.

Speaking of which, there are good coffeeshops and there are shitty coffeeshops. What makes a coffeeshop shitty? When they don't let you smoke without buying their crappy weed. The worst of the bunch is The Grasshopper on Spuistraat. In order to smoke there you have to buy 25,00 worth of their crappy tourist weed AND drinks. No thanks, I told them. Even slightly crippled I'll still chose to walk five more minutes to Homegrown Fantasy dank u wel!

Good coffeeshops? I have my favourites. For the past six years I've gone to the following regularly and never been disappointed:

Tweede Kamer - great stuff, helpful and hilarious staff who are quite serious about their business, and a favourite of locals. The seats aren't the most comfortable, but they give the best cookies with their coffees.

La Tertulia - A great place to smoke, good brownies, great seating areas, amazing vibe, and really (really) great staff. They also have all organically grown products. This is not the place to go to get Cheech & Chong high - but it is the place to sit, have a great smoke, and they have a great menu of toasties, milkshakes, and teas. They also have great games available and when it's sunny there is no better place to sit outside and have a smoke.

The Grey Area - Pothead centraal. If you want some serious weed, the kind they seem to only smoke in stoner movies, this is the place for you. By far the best weed in Amsterdam (and it better be for the prices). Watch out though because they have weird hours (12 - 20h00) and it's quite small so it's a sort of pick up your stuff and go sort of place.

Mellow Yellow - It's the first coffeeshop I ever went to and it stays out of the typical Amsterdam game. It's obvious too. Lots of locals, very few tourists. Really great Tibetan Buddhist murals to stare at too.

This trip I went to some new places as well. The best of the bunch was by far New Times. Great weed can be had here for less than 8,00 euros a gram. I loved the atmosphere at Bas Joe, Homegrown Fantasy, and the Greenhouse (the one on the canal, not the bar or coffeeshop on Warmoerstraat).

I was pleasantly surprised to discover Amnesia, which is owned by Barney's but has better stuff and a better atmsophere. I don't get the hype that surrounds Barney's, but Amnesia was a nice place to buy and sit for awhile.

The best thing I did on my trip? Go to Boom Chicago on the Leidseplein and ask about the boat rides. They're not "free", because they do pass around a can at the end for donations, but you can if you're on a budget give less than the "suggested" 10,00 euros though I don't recommend it. The boat rides are given by volunteers who work for the Saint Nicolaus association and go towards keeping up their boats and keep the rides available to anyone who signs up for them. The boats are from the early 1900's and were used to transport goods along the canal so they're very open and close to the water unlike other boat rides you can take.

I loved the boat. I learned even more about the history of Amsterdam, had a friendly chat with some of the other people, and even got to have a smoke! On the day I had signed up for it rained all morning and at the last minute I decided to at least see if the ride might still be on because the rain had stopped. Sure enough it was. The association uses doppler radar to check the weather and so the ride was a bit later than the original time, but I was pretty impressed overall. Well worth what I gave at donation time (20,00 euros).

I hobbled back to the flat after taking two wrong trams and having to get off at the wrong place. The lady who runs a sort of B&B had arranged a friend to bring me and my bags to the station. She doesn't advertise, but if you'd like a beautiful room to stay in for 60,00 euros a night with breakfast included and a real Amsterdammer to talk to, just shoot me an email (lafemmeflaneuse@gmail.com) and I'll pass on her email to you (it's her place that has the garden where I hand fed the swans).

I arrived to Paris. I was exhausted and knew I might be in for a surprise once I got home. After all I did leave a 22 year-old in charge of my beloved La Chienne and my flat for two weeks...

I wish I had snapped a picture, but I was so shocked by the state my flat was in that I could do nothing except hug my excited little hound and try to form a plan of attack in my head. Disaster isn't a strong enough word. All the plates and pots and pans in the sink were coated in a blue-ish mold. I couldn't force him to clean the house either because he had to catch the train back to England to register for college. Dammit.

I am an only child. When I met D almost three years ago I adopted him as my little brother. I'm almost 10 years older than him and sort of look out for him. He's not an only child though. He has three brothers and a sister who are all younger than him. I have adopted F and S (the little sister) too. Though F and S live in different countries so I don't see them as often.

Now I "mommy" panicked shortly before I left because I thought maybe I hadn't left my hound and flat in the care of the most responsible person. I hadn't. La Chienne isn't so used to being without human companionship. The flat was quite happy and clean when I left her...

So a lesson learned. I cleaned up (a little, the flat needs a complete top to bottom), made porco à cacciatore with from scratch sauce, and fell asleep on the couch at 7 pm...

I'm not so happy to be home, but I am happy to see the hound again. After two weeks with two cats I can say as cute and interesting as cats are, nothing beats coming home to a dog. Nothing.

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YouTube's Video Editor, Amsterdam, & Sucking

I'm going to start this post backwards because I've only just started the process of uploading my video clips, so I have no flippin' idea how the video editor YouTube launched works yet. So in the meantime whilst I wait I'm going to have a rooibos tea, listen to pirate radio, and watch the rain come down. Yes my planned boat ride on the canal shall no longer be. Though if the rain let's up I'm marching down there to see whether it's on or not anyways. I figure if it's not on at least I can sneak into the Rijksmuseum and not feel guilty.

On to the music. One of the features of YouTube's video editor is you can add music to your videos. I have no idea what copyright issues are going to do to the availability of my selection - but in the meantime let's dream shall we? Together?

Now Miss Pool (that's L) has suggested that I use Kraftwerk's "Trans Europe Express" and while I love me some Kraftwerk, it doesn't fit the video's subject matter. Going from Amsterdam to the seaside isn't exactly a transeuropean voyage.

Here's a list of songs I have considered in the 7+ minutes that it has taken YouTube to upload my 9min 59sec video...

Joy Division: Love Will Tear Us Apart, Atmosphere

Adam and the Ants: Prince Charming

The Specials: Ghost Town

The Smiths: There's a Light that Never Goes Out, Back to the Old House, Panic

And then it occurs to me...doesn't YouTube have a time limit for how long videos can be? If my vid is going to be 10 minutes long I'm going to need more than one song....

This is why I haven't forrayed into the YouTube video making world before. It's well complicated. Must stop listening to Ska. It's making me use my Ali G voice.

Phew. Somewhere from the starting point of YouTube to the absurdity of viral videos of annoyingly cute kitty cats, the nice people at YouTube upped the cap on the time limit from 10 minutes to 15 minutes.

The videos have all uploaded now. I have tagged them and all that stuff. So on to the next step.

Blogger not only didn't save my post, but I had some image problems too because I really need to buy Photoshop my print screens didn't save properly, but it doesn't matter because this "tutorial" I had planned to teach you (whilst teaching myself) how to use the YouTube video editor sort of became all about trying to find ways around the Editor's lack of functionality or lack of the functionality I wanted YouTube to offer me.

Here's why I think YouTube's Video Editor sucks the big one:

1. The whole editing the clips side bar-arrow thing is quite crap. Why can't I just point my mouse and click and remove the panels one by one??? Why??????

2. YouTube couldn't resolve the copyright infringement issues of using music, so what they offer is a list of artists I have never even heard of. So either I am way less cool then I think I am or no one knows who the hell these artists are either. Please say it isn't only me. Nice to know, on a sidenote that YouTube is really planning to make some more revenue off the music industry.

3. The transitions, to put it mildly, are what I would expect to see if a 5 year old figured out how to make a Power Point presentation. Does the world need another video that transitions between clips via a heart-shaped fade? I mean isn't Chinese karaoke videos plentiful enough?

What I had planned this morning was to make a brilliantly edited video of the video footage I've been shooting in A'dam. What happened is too horrible to even post a link to. However I am going to find the right software and do it. Just probably not until I'm back in France and the housework's been done.

Here is one of the print screens that saved properly. It looks basic doesn't it? Well that's because my dears, it is.

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Amsterdam Day 10 in Pictures

The moon over A'dam the night of the lunar eclipse.

More moonlight over Amsterdammy.

Finally up and at 'em.

Banksy?

Duck on a rudder.

Happy cat.

Yes. A four person tandem. What??

Bicycle ornaments.

Zanvoort.

Wall murals at Zansvoort.

Sculpture.

The North Sea.

Haarlem.

Haarlem train station.

Odd structure @ Haarlem train station.

A gift for a friend with a good sense of humour.

Odd thing at La Paz Coffeeshop in Zanvoort.

Amsterdammers having a little boat party.

Dumpster.

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