Last night

De nagel. A place on a dark corner with trophies all over. Apparently you could take them if you wanted, but the bartender from Limburg, people called him Sabri, turned out to be very attached to a certain trophy, third place position, which was precisely the trophy one of our friends had set his eyes on. There were also cartoons with sexual undertones, no rather, with overt sexual content spread across the walls. In the corner there was a shrine with candles. It seemed to be honoring nudists.
After that we went to Pollux, a bar near the water, with a Moby Dick movie poster next to various family photos and a taxidermy dear head. The couches were covered in flower motif textiles and there was a big jukebox with classics. We listed to Danny de Munk over and over again until even our American friend knew the words. The bar tender fed us pretzel sticks.
The boyfriend of a friend was playing some sort of game with his friends where he but his foot in their crotch, and they put their feet in his. We didn't quite understand the humor of it, or if it was intended as a joke at all. The girlfriend told us to ignore. We did. We went on singing along with Danny de Munk.
When this place closed, we went to a place called San Fransisco, which was dark and smelly and had a doorbell. There were tourists and men with beards. Then Sabri, or king of the night as someone called him, who had come with us and at this time had started smelling unbearably, brought us back to de Nagel. He went in and out of the bathroom, each time his eyes a little wider than before. It explained the smell. We had more beers and sat around a table with a candle. The cigarettes had all gone and a discussion ensued about what store would still be open at 5 am. In the meantime we ate wasabi peanuts. This discussion lasted about half an hour until the bartender so called 'sacrificed' himself by ordering drugs from a drugdealer and asking him to bring some cigarettes. People started to kiss him in order to show their gratitude which seemed like an excellent time to leave.
I drank multiple glasses when I got home but it didn't help much. I woke up with a vague taste of wasabi, beer and pretzels in the back of my mouth.

Things I miss about New York

Tacos. Porpusas at the flea market.
The flea market in general.
Cabs late at night.
Drinks in hotel lobbies.
l'Asso pizza.
The beach.
"coach coach chanel"
People crowding sidewalks.
Skateboards. Sort of.
Epistrophy and the coffee martini.

My dad's birthday

We went to a fancy restaurant where we weren't allowed to speak on our regular volume.
Obviously it is precisely these kind of places where we get into fights. One at a time, we started crying, got up from the table and came back, only to make the next person cry and so on. Sort of like a relay race of tears and anger. My little sister got angry because we joked about her boyfriend. I cried because I was called out for still not having found one. I suggest that next year the topic of 'boyfriend' is off our list. I think we should keep with neutral talk of sports and food.

Things I like about Amsterdam

The streets, quiet mostly.
The absence of sirens.
Sidewalks.
Casual neighborhood talk.
Sandwiches with peanut butter. The Dutch kind.
Gardens.
Comfortable bicycles. And bicycle lanes.
Talks over beers.
Old friends with old stories.
Water.
Husband and wife, dog and cat.
Bathrooms in restaurants. With regular doors and a sink separate.
Supermarkets. Less options.

Things that are finished

The first draft of my play. Sort of.
My summer in New York. Continued in Amsterdam.
Rehearsals for the Dutch show. Or so I thought.
The thorough cleaning of my room.
Most of my Dutch friend's studies. Slightly worrying.
Most of my money.
The time when I thought I didn't need a plan.

The end of the World Cup

We lost.
Paul, the infamous octopus, predicted it.
Tonight I will eat some fried calamari in his honor.

The night of Crossword

The two performances of crossword went well. It was hot, but nobody complained. They sat still and listened which is usually a good sign.
After the performance we drank prosecco and cheap white wine.
We put on music and tried to dance the tango.
The owner of the apartment played saxophone along with the music in a corner.
I drank a little, but was worried about the mess we were leaving behind at the apartment so I cleaned some of it.