Live from Schipol

How is it that Europeans can smell clean yet not perfumy amid a cloud of cigarette smoke?

And why didn't it occur to me that I would find it very difficult to spend a four-hour layover in a very small place within a very small country from which HB hails? A place that happens to be filled with people and things and general quirkyness that simply pummels me with HBness?

Yeah. I don't know, either. But it's enough to drive a gal to smoke. And drink. And hang out with rugby players at the airport bar. Okay, not really. I'm too grumpy. But maybe that'll be next--cheer me the hell up!

WiFi's pricier here: 10 euro for the day. But still worth it for killing time, kids.

I didn't sleep a wink on the plane. Instead I read the drivel that I'll be workshopping for the next two weeks. How about a 58-year-old woman from Houston's book-length memoir about the month she spent in spiritual retreat writing and teaching yoga in Ireland after she finally got her college degree. Could be inspiring, could be right up my alley, right? But instead it's full of horrid cliches and wonderment at the leprechaunian magic and spirits in the hills and blah, blah, blah. I don't know how not to rip her a new asshole.

Maybe I just need some sleep.

I've got to get off my high horse. But she's calling the friggin' thing "And that would be Ireland." As if. Why can't people try to be experts about themselves and themselves alone, albeit in different contexts, instead of trying to write about entire peoples and cultures with sweeping generalizations as if they know anything about anything? Huh?

And why have I encountered birds flying around my head and perching near me in two out of three airports I've been in this trip? And a toad in my garage (no, that is not a euphemism for anything! although I'd take it if it were more delightful than the fright I got in finding the damn thing hop out from under a garbage bag this morning.)?

I also watched two in-flight movies: Failure to Launch--nice eye candy in the form of one of my favorite Texans, Matthew McConnaughey, and his oddly long torso, but otherwise stupid; and a fucking fabulous documentary on The Ballet Russe. Those dancers seem to get it right so much of the time. Except when they start marrying their directors and choreographers. Bad, very bad. But they still manage to live for-practically-ever and keep dancing in some form or another into their dang 90s. Amazing. Loved it. Loved the history, seeing the costumes, style, bodies change over the 20th century.

I think I might need to tell somebody I'm here and planning to transfer onto my flight to Prague. Laters y'all.

On the road again

How much do I love travelling with my laptop + WiFi? The Northwest Airlines wing of Detroit Metro rawks! I thought I was going to have to join the fancy elite club for the day (at a cost of $45) to get online, but noooo. Just $7.95 will get you full-out, all-over access for the day. Yay!

So, I've been able to take care of some business--research, write and file a story for the paper back home. Yes, it's true. I conducted interviews two hours before my flight and the story is due tomorrow. What?

I'm bringing my cell phone (although don't call my U.S. number--I'll be picking up a local SIM card/number), digital camera, ipod, laptop abroad. This looks and feels so different than the first time I hopped across the pond 11 years ago. It's weird. But fun. I have become so high maintenance in a single decade. If I keep going at this rate, I'll have to hire someone to cart around my luggage.

Naw, I did pretty well. Shoes, gadgets and cosmetics comprise the bulk of my necessities. I'll be glad to have them, no doubt, and Kiki has agreed to bring my laptop back to the 'States a month before I return.

So for July, anyway, I plan to keep y'all informed and perhaps even bring some photos. You can see some of what I'll be seeing! How dang cool is that?

Well, I take off for Amsterdam in a little over an hour, arrive 8:30 a.m. local time, kill four hours doing God knows what (I got Euros burning a hole in my pocket already--left over from trip to Dublin in March), and then Praha at 12:30! Someone will pick me up (holding a placard with my name on it, yay!), take me to Kiki's and my digs for the month, and then I'll probably cash out for a good while. Kiki gets in Saturday morning. Our first stops will be: pivo!, church made of human bones, sex museum. In that order, methinks.

I'll keep you posted, although I can't promise a lot. The more fun one has, the less one writes in my experience. Living and creating take up the same energy. . . .

long overdue update

Madnes has taken over for the past couple of weeks. Finishing up the term, getting grades in, taking on freelance writing and grading(!) jobs (if only I got paid $20 a paper in my real job), attempting to finalize arrangements in Europe (unsuccessfully) and all the other usual bullshit.

So that's why you haven't heard from me.

And my laptop is fucked. Again. Needs to get shipped off for repairs. Again.

After sending off a cashier's check to a friend of my screenwriting prof to secure a sublet, he informed me that his landlord is pissed and it's a no go. I had planned on staying there for two months. This has caused me to reconceive my entire trip. Good thing I hadn't made hard travel plans. And he did send the check back.

Fuck it. I wish I could control these things, but I can't. I think I've gotten another place--more expensive and just for one month, but it'll do. Maybe I'll just take out a loan and wander around until the wedding in France. I could hit a lot of places I've never seen in Germany, Austria, Hungary, Poland, maybe even Italy. I could skip all that and go straight to Istanbul. I could do a spa tour. . . . I could shack up with a fabulous someone who has several country homes in which I could choose to live for a while. Who the hell knows?

I don't even know if I have time to take care of all the things I need to take care of. Finishing stuff now and preparing for what will come in the fall (I return the week classes start). Oy! Why do I do this to myself?

Oh, that's right. Because I love challenge and change and all the good that can come of it. But now is the scary stuff. The not knowing. I like to know it all, have all the information in front of me, but alas, ce n'est pas possible! Oh shit! I need to brush up on my French, too. . . . !

The good news is I'm also having fun. I went to see KiKi's new play last night and he is a fucking genius. The whole theatre laughed so hard they cried. I love having smart, talented, funny friends. Is there anything better?

And I'm hoping to escape for a little while to Chicago. It's Bluesfest weekend, people! See you there?