Ramblin' Rambleweed

An hour of my evening was wasted because I came home from town and discovered that I didn't have my keys. O wasn't home, he was in the center having drinks with some guys, so fortunately he wasn't far, but I had to go straight back to the tram and go all the way to the Dam and back. Not happy with myself, but it could have been worse.

Last night I went to a book reading with a friend and beforehand, to kill some time, we popped into Esprit because she wanted to look at some clothes. While I was waiting for her to try on a shirt, I spotted these on the sales rack:



I instantly knew I had to get them, I've been wanting cute Mary Janes for awhile now. The only thing that I'm kind of iffy about with them is that they have wooden soles. I've never worn shoes like that. It's a bit weird since the sole doesn't bend, but I hope to get used to it and to break in the leather a bit because otherwise I absolutely love them.

So yeah, the book reading. It was Pete Jordan reading from his book, Dishwasher, which is about the years he spent washing dishes all over the US. I hadn't heard of him or the book until I got an email about the event, but it sounded interesting so I decided to go. He was a really nice and sweet guy, plus he lives in Amsterdam now, but he also lived in Portland for awhile, so there's sort of that connection. The reading, as well as the Mexican dinner before and ice cream after that my friend and I had, made for a laid-back but lovely Friday night.

Regardless of the weather, it is summer technically, and that means tourists flooding Amsterdam. I really felt it today, everyone around me was reading a map or guide book and walking at a snail's pace. It's one thing about this city that I'm already tired of and it sucks to know that it's not going to go away or get any better (I suppose it's like the city's neverending road and building construction; no, you never will be able to walk around a scaffold-free Amsterdam). I'm thankful I don't live in the center, but when I go there I hate feeling like there's no locals left anymore.

The tourists do seem well trained on how to get on a tram though... too well trained. I suppose they've been yelled at so much (or told by guide books) to board the tram at the next-to-last door that when an older tram came along that you actually do board at the back, they all headed to the wrong door. I'd still like to shoot either the person who designed the newer trams or the person who decided to buy them, because that conductor placement is just one of the things I hate about the newer trams (I know, they're not really new anymore...) Oh well, since they're made of plastic, they'll likely have to buy replacements again in a decade or so.