I went outside, seen it’s raining and totally ignored it.. they say “I’m not made of sugar”. I guess it goes only for Dutch guys. Not so bad to be soaking wet, I keep on saying to myself. But wha? Is is ok? Oh well, I’ll get dry later on. My outfit was too sexy and I was wet, what can you expect better from a woman on a Friday afternoon. Got to my flat in the evening. Had tea then pills. The Romanian ones. Should get to bed. Which I did. Way to spend the fri night. Oh yey!
Saturday
Wake up with a serious cold, no mood and a nose full of shit. Got myself the soap opera traditional no-tear tissues. Should stick one or two up my running nose.
I have a look on the pill box. Says I’m supposed to take 2 pills in 12 hours and so on. On doctor recommendation only, can take 6 pills in 24 hours. I prescribe myself 2 extra pills – I need it for tonight’s party.
Managed to get myself out of bed within 3 hours or so, should be listed as personal record in times of cold. I hit the AH for supplies. Take it to The Hague. How come I always miss all means of transportation by just those 2 fucking minutes?! And then I end up so surprised and disappointed waiting for the next one…
Got to my uncle’s venue, ate a bit of whatever pasta, drank white wine. Chilled with my uncle and talked about all less important stuff in whatever context, just catching up. Needed to move.Got to Anna’s place. On my way I noticed no Dutch people. Suppose that’s strange, living in Holland. But, oh, well, one welcomed me at Anna’s. He spoke Russian. I understood his friendly mine and gestures. I laughed and got in the little wood house Anna and her husband designed in their backyard. Looks like you’re in the mountains at asome winter sport resort.
Every one was somehow continuously having dinner. I felt like back in Romania, when my mother keeps on bringing food.. Only the thought of it gives me tummy pain. So bizarre to feel home with Russians, Lithuanians, Dutch, Latvian and Finnish.. We watched the video of Anna’s wedding.
Almost no one in that room remembers details of her wedding. I do remember the fire spiters and how Anna was walking on one of them while he was floored-back to glass, broken small little pieces of glass. And then some childhood games and some attempts of coordination in couple. And a bit of fat-ass bogging to get a potato moving on the floor.. oh, just use your imagination!
Lithuanian vodka is so strong. I had absolutely no feel for taste or smell, everything was neutral to me. A flower, cow poop, Dolce&Gabbana perfume and sewage.. all the same to me, baby. Apparently it was supposed to stink, so that’s why not many would give it a go. Considering the circumstances, I did. Did I mention I took some pills?
We had such a good time! They’re all so funny. We girls needed to go. The Hague expat party was on. At Scheveningen. What kind of combination is that? Do they do Amsterdam expat parties in Haarlem? No further remarks… it took us girls (4 of us) most likely about 3 minutes to be ready. Then Laurie said he’s coming. This after slaying big portions of vodka, girl wine, so male beer and who knows what else. Where to? Asked the guys. To the party, of course.
We’re 4 girls all over each other on the back seat of a taxi and Laurie is talking on and on about all sort of taxi events and street names with the driver. We’re constantly wondering on how he keeps up with all the sober-talking. Suppose he has an extra body to retain alcohol.
Got there, got some Hawaiian plastic flowers on our necks. It was some beach party – the theme. We did a three hour dancing and partying when Laurie started falling on people. He lost his glasses few times and probably his entire memories of the night. But his rudely apparition rocked! Though Anna and Alla needed to take him home, too bad for our laughs, was a good shotgun for it.Rodney was pimping around, as usually. Lydie and Jasper were all over each other and looking good. The drag queens still in male clothes were dulling on other women’s men. And Sam was there. Coincidently enough we danced a bit..
I also previously tried more vodka and rum mixes. No worries, the pills just keep me fit, as well as the thing against a running nose. But the music was great party-like. Everything was spinning right. Natasha and I hooked up with some Spanish male-non-male unisex stuff around. The party went on like that. Truly amazing. Somehow I ended up dancing with Sam again and then somehow we retired for some time on the beach.. Made everything peachy. No idea what time, how long.. it was clear that the party had been a blast for some people, when we got back, every one was leaving. We did too, when I discovered I lost my phone. We got back on the beach to rescue my phone swamped in the sand..
Then Natasha recovered us as well and we hit the road to the Central Station The Hague. Sam and I were supposed to end up in my large bed in Amsterdam, but strangely enough just missed the train. I started running around asking men in blue when the next train for Amsterdam is leaving.. in one hour.. fuck!! What are we going to do for one hour.. you just cannot stay in the station for that long. We rushed to Stefan’s still wondering – what the fuck were we doing in the Central Station?! It seemed like a dream..
My sense of reality is deteriorating seriously. The excitement from the party is slowly getting away, it’s just us, lots of sand everywhere, crunchy crunch teeth sounds and slept, slept..
Sunday
Woke up with some sweaty sun in my face and decided to get back to A’dam. Romantically said goodbye to Sam in the Station. Suppose they look more fresh in a film, but then again, they don’t share what we do. Til we meet again you mancman, you rock!Why’s every one staring at me?! What’s wrong with night clothes on a Sunday afternoon? What’s wrong with very wrong strong make-up fading away from sheets and sand, nasty smells and sluty lipstick? You fools, you don’t know what love is! Now who’s the bad guy?!
Crawled up the narrow stairs, found the apartment empty. The other Wanna must have gone blow her mind in some other place. I’m all alone, lonely and by myself. I’m cursed with anxiety and need to get away. I’m scared to go out, to stay with my shaman thoughts or have a delirium beside myself. I’m irecognizable in my darkest world. The knives in the kitchen shine appetizing. I daydream of terrible accidents and decide to hit the sack.
Lydie calls and order is restored. Earth to Wanna is reaching out. The other Wanna is coming in and I play sociable. [Fucking pills! Don’t you mix them with alcohol! You should know better].
The rest is history, I’m alive!
Monday
Pass by work in my way to the exam at the uni. Looks decent, should be doable. I then engage in long conversations at my uncle’s place. He prepares tea for me, I’m so lucky! And sleepy, damn late hours in The Hague.
Tuesday
It’s always even more difficult to wake up in the morning. Paradox is that it’s even harder to go to sleep in the night, dilemma of my life. Oh well, the entire dilemma thread dies when needed to study, then it’s easiest that can be to fall asleep on a nice-smelling book. At least I try to finish my project.. I have a feeling it’s gonna take much longer..
Wednesday
I need to finish my project. Somehow this thought stays on my mind. I ignore it later, in my pursuit of being the perfect housewife. Lekker Piu shall be coming soon. Need to have a decent house prepared. I lose my interest and my day.
Thursday
We have a new IT class with and old IT guy. He’s German and boring. He likes to think we’re retarded so he explains the same things 5 times and one additional time (always), if you’re stupid enough to ask a question. Any question. Bill calls him Tolkien. I guess now you know better than to start up an mba.. Sometimes I’m still wondering what his wife has to do with it. Most probably she’s annoying and he needs to get away. Most likely to deserve a better life than having me commenting on his work and most of the people not paying attention. I end up at my uncle’s wasted.
Friday
How come I cannot focus on my work? Well, I just heard a Dutch colleague of mine saying on the phone: “are you really working? Or is it Friday for you too?!” Friday. As opposed to working. As in weekend. Oh, now I get it!! You Dutch don’t work on Fri! And me who was the only one maintaining the Dutch economy at high level! Me and some poor Polish guys who’ll never get this.. anyhow, more important to find out that the Jordaan festival is on.
Lydie is visiting me. I pick her up at the station. Lekker Piu is next. We need to wait for her for an hour. Lydie decides to ignore my food cooking proposals and gets to a patat thing. Then we take a walk in the Red Light district. Do we look better sometimes? More real and touchable? We see some jewels, we stare like monkeys. The artist comes out to explain. She’s a German lady who teaches art in The Hague. We’ll keep in touch. I suspect she’s interested in Lydie.
Lekker Piu is smoking a cigarette in front of the Central Station. I’m excited to see her. I also figured out why it’s a bad spot to ask her to come to the information point. She always has a cigarette after coming from Brussels. That needs to be tasted outside. Next time I’ll be a better considerate friend.We go take dinner at my place, I can really cook, yes. They seem to like it. Except for Jasper, who has allergy to cheese. What kind of kaaskop is that? Your oma is going to feel ashamed!Conversation’s taking us to unseen places. We agree if you only have sex 3 times per year with your bf and then he asks you to wear a moustache and a hat, your bf must be gay. Lydie and Jasper need to split early at 2 in the night, they need to have friends over and clean up. We suggest let the kids play the cleaning company.
We decide to carry on our green way and talk about all persons we ever knew @ hp and what happened to them. Try to understand why people behave this way. We find no solution, but reasoning takes us to sleep. SaturdayWe wake up late in a party mood and try to figure out where Anna is. She has by this time tried to come about 5 times to Amsterdam. All initiatives failed for some reason or the other. We get back to sleep.
Saturday
We take a longer walk to the city. We’re ignoring the Bulldog and go to a forgotten place with weird paintings and weirder decorations. We take a white widow and think it’s slow. But you never know. The tram takes us to the Jordaan festival. Johnie’s and Anita’s are there. So are old and young, intellectuals and dumb. All are listening to same Dutch old music. Sounds fun. “Ti amo” in the Dutch version and Andre Hazes memorial. I know where I am. Thousands of Dutch-only are there. Amsterdam has never been Dutcher to me. We have a lot of fun looking at the people and listening or not to the music. We have gauffre’s and we feel good. Perfect night.
Sunday
Morning’s there, we’re not. The afternoon surprises us in bed. Nothing special, just us girls and a lot of talking done. Feels like home, sisterhood and cosy. We shall soon meet again, we say. And the train to Brussels is rolling. Aside Lekker Piu, loads of dubiosi – it’s the Belgium way..
Sunday
Morning’s there, we’re not. The afternoon surprises us in bed. Nothing special, just us girls and a lot of talking done. Feels like home, sisterhood and cosy. We shall soon meet again, we say. And the train to Brussels is rolling. Aside Lekker Piu, loads of dubiosi – it’s the Belgium way..
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