FYI: the map to the van Gogh museum is not much help finding your way home in Amsterdam

Finishing up almost 4 full days in Amsterdam and, other than being a little cold, I had a chill yet crazy time and didn't end up in jail (well, we almost did at customs but that's a whole separate story!). I'm sitting at the airport relaxing until I head on to Florence, Italy. I absolutely cannot believe I only have 1 week left and tomorrow is August. This trip and the summer have gone way too quickly. I'm both a little sad and also a little excited to see my cats, my friends, and my house and get to some YOGA classes!!!

I now have a dream to live in a houseboat surrounded by potted plants in a canal in Amsterdam. I feel like I'd even be inspired to cook dinner with the fresh herbs growing on my roof. Amsterdam fed me well, gave me some mileage on my toms shoes, and I had more heineken, cappuccino and tea than ever in my life and it was all delicious, even the walking.

We saw the Anne Frank house, the sex museum, the van Gogh museum, foam, lots of canals, and many many many windowbox hookers. Keem suggested we go to a "live sex" show but I decided I really need to draw the line somewhere and declined.

I forget after traveling for so long that it's a totally different world over here sometimes. I don't notice accents anymore, I don't notice crowds. I just hold my bag and do my best to figure out where I am and what people are saying and I forget that not everyone, including my parents, travel that way.

Speaking of my parents...I'm not sure what happened in Amsterdam but apparently they are not very pleased with me. I'm still trying to piece it all together but the end result was me deciding not to fight with them while being attacked on both sides and them storming off on our last night and flying out this a.m. with only a note under my hotel room door.

Did I tell them they should take a cab instead of a train and a tram to the hotel? Yes...because I knew that's what would happen anyway.

Did I rave about how excited I was to have peanut butter at breakfast because I missed it too much and also say I didn't think anyone should pay for the hotel breakfast because it was too expensive for the "crap" theywould get? Yes.

So yesterday, my parents went off biking and we decided to spend our day hopping around. We were all supposed to meet up at 6 for dinner. I had heard of a Jah Cure concert at 8:30 and, depending on dinner, was going to try to go. Reggae, Amsterdam... :-D

My parents were running a little late and by the time we finally left the hotel it was closer to 7. My mom asked what we did that day and I started off with "well we had this great breakfast..." and was cut off with some comment from my mom about how breakfast at the hotel wasn't good enough. I was asked what we were doing after dinner and I mentioned the concert...if we had time after dinner.

I was told to pick a restaurant so I chose one we all thought looked good. Sometimes choosing a place to eat with my parents is difficult. I would rather avoid being the chooser but I try my best. We sat down, were about to order drinks and the waiter, who was classic Europe-service stand-off-ish, didn't answer my dad's question nicely and also insisted they had only bottled water, no tap (also classic Europe in my experience). And my parents decided to go elsewhere.

I am pretty sure all I said was "we're going somewhere else?" And got up and walked out with them. I then said "ok, you guys lead the way to the next place." And then my mom started talking about why we had to leave and I said ok, not a big deal. And then my dad started telling me I had an attitude. And then my mom told me to go to the concert. I said I would rather have dinner with them on the last night. And they both kept talking, pretty much about all the things I did/said wrong. Rather than fight or defend myself I just kept saying that we should eat dinner and I wasn't going to fight or do the back and forth. And then they were gone...

Maybe it would have been better for me to yell back or something. I guess that's what they're used to. I just don't have the energy. I haven't argued with anyone since I left on this trip and I don't intend to start up again now, or really ever. It's all about breathing and letting go, yes?

So Florence and the Tuscany area! Back to the architecture and art (Paolo at my hotel already made me reservations at the Ufizzi and Gallery Academia), pizza and gelato and (hopefully) smiley face cappuccinos. I am going to need my fill of wine and olives as well and I fully intend to make my attempt to fix the leaning tower of Pisa. Oh, and back to the sweltering heat...I can't say I'm mad about that!

I should also be able to blog a bit more as I plan on reverting to a leisurely place before I head back to Philly.

Shall we queue?

Well, we're on our last full day in London and I think we've done a good job of seeing and eating everything you're supposed to see/eat when you're here.

We saw the: Tower of London, Tower Bridge, Eye of London, Charles Dickens' Museum, Westminster Abbey, British Library, British Museum, Big Ben, Abbey Road, Buckingham Palace, Leicester Square (and went to the theater), Picadilly Circus, and probably other stuff I'm forgetting.

We ate: a bunch of Indian food, some sort of pie, "bangers and mash," bubble and squeak soup, hummingbird bakery cupcakes, high tea (which included scones, cake and a raspberry meringue) fish and chips and strongbow. My parents, who rarely drink, have decided they love strongbow. I am proud that I was able to introduce them to that.

My dad took his obligatory nap in public (see above, that's at the British Library) and no one killed anyone. Really, this trip has been quite a success so far.

I would say my favorite "attractions" were the British Library for the amazing collection of original texts (alice in wonderland illustrations, texts from multiple religions, the magna carta, song lyric scribbles from the beatles, and papers of Leonardo da Vinci) and notes and Westminster Abbey due to the poets' corner. I'm admittedly a total nerd.

Although I still think London is kind of ugly, I enjoyed my morning runs and also some of the vocabulary. I am going to start using the word "brilliant!" after certain statements. Also, a line or a wait (i.e. at a theater ticket booth or a traffic jam) is called a "queue." I love it. And then there is just the general way of saying things. For example, as I was walking in a park today I saw an adorable dog and his elderly male owner. The convo went like this:

Me: can I say hello to your dog?
Old man: why yes, please do
Me: (bend down to see dog)
Old man: he seems to have gotten his nose in some fox poo!
Me: oh really?
Old man: disgusting dog!!!

Tomorrow a.m. it's off to Amsterdam and 1.5 weeks left of my trip! This last week, basically all through Rome and London, I've been a bit of a homebody (or a hotelbody I guess), doing all sorts of things during the day but taking my nights to just read or relax...kind of like back in Barcelona when it was my San Miguel night or back in Philly after a long day of work. I'm not upset about it. It's a weird calm...like I survived my trip and all my doubts and now I can just chill and soak everything else in however I please. (Bets,however, on whether I can get my parents to eat a brownie - although I would NEVER ever ever do such a thing myself!)
After Amsterdam I'm back to Italy for my last week - 6 nights in Florence/Tuscany and 2 nights in Rome (because I'm flying back from Rome). It should be a great week and probably the week I've been looking most forward to since Spain (even though people and places since then have been well more than I expected).

I feel like if I were to see myself 5 or 6 weeks ago I wouldn't even understand or recognize myself. I don't think I mentioned this on this blog, or really to anyone at all, but the night before and the day I left Philly to head out on this trip I just kept crying. I was scared and sad and confused and doubtful. At one point I was ready to skip the trip all together.

One of my friends asked me last night how I feel about the plans for the rest of my trip, about seeing people, and about making certain decisions, and I told her that I just have to do it and focus on the present and it will all come together as it should. It just came out without even thinking about it.

Then just a bit ago, I was speaking to another friend, about a weird (but good weird in a surreal way) situation and he said "it feels right so I'm goin with it." I guess that's where I am with the rest of my trip, with potential jobs I've applied for, with my upcoming Australia/New Zealand trip, and with where I'll end up when it all comes together.

All this deep talk and I'm not even in a cafe in Amsterdam yet!

London and "once a week there are no calories"

I'm currently perched on the Victoria Memorial out front of Buckingham Palace waiting for the changing of the guards (with my mom alternating between humming British songs and saying that no one should yell, they'll scare the horses). The sun is finally peeking through a little bit which will hopefully help me stop shivering (otherwise I'm going to need to buy some leggings and a sweater). Despite the "grey start" as they call it here apparently, I was able to go for a refreshing 5 and 1/4 mile run this a.m. It was my first run in about 1 week and much needed. I only intended to run 4 miles but getting lost for a bit added some distance.

After a delayed flight and a temporarily misplaced/lost backpack, I made it to London yesterday morning and found my parents waiting on a corner for me near our hotel. Can I just take a moment to state my relief to have my own bathroom where no nasty strange coughing guests are soaking everything in sight, including the toilet paper, and stinking everything up? So stated.

We all agreed (which is sometimes rare) that we needed to eat and made our way to a "proper hamburger" spot (that's what the restaurant calls it, not me) and had incredibly proper hamburgers. Mine had chedder and bacon and a special sauce with a side of french fries and courgette (zucchini) fries. Oh, and some green olives. I'm not much of a burger person but this really truly hit the spot.

We made our way to the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge and the London Bridge and etc. My sad initial comment to London is wtf is up with your skyline? After Spain, Paris, Prague and Rome London's mish-mosh of buildings is really not doing much for me. The Tower of London was way too commercial and kid oriented (note the "in case of attack sign above"). They do have some Dr. Seuss looking trees that I enjoyed.

Next was Trafalgar (sp?) Square and Piccadilly Circus to see the crowds and the mini-Times Square and then on to get a small dinner. We had that small dinner...salads and goat cheese and a sandwich for dad. And then dessert. We wanted to split a sundae between the 3 of us. Our waiter decided that was absurd and we each needed our own. We protested. He insisted and told us "once a week there are no calories." So we gave in (he was so proud of his 3 sundaes, like an ice cream artist even).

Well, let's not forget I ate a whole pizza the other day. I think I may have used up my "no calorie" day...and that's why I ran 5 miles this morning.

I ate a whole pizza...and other accomplishments in Rome

I am taking some time in the AC right now and blogging seemed like a great excuse to not go back out yet. It's so hot here today that I literally considered taking my pants off on my walk home from the Vatican. Instead I came back to my room, put on my booty flower dress (see prior post from France) which is light weight and touches my body in the least places, put on my new hat, and decided to be daring and european and leave my bra behind. The result: I was still damn sweaty but a little less annoyed and now everyone speaks to me in Italian. Ha!

So...I had my dinner with Orasio last night. The food was delicious. I even got to have some authentic cannolli (chocolate and ricotta) that just about made my night. It was interesting to meet an ex-lawyer who is now an artist and also enjoys observing human interactions. Kinda felt a bit like looking in the mirror minus the art part.

In Prague, the guys at the desk had out some mystery methods book to seducing women. It was comical to me. Maybe some of the things in there might work on a woman if she is young or naïve enough but for myself or any of my friends, no way jose. They didn't seem to want to accept that...men like to believe they can control or influence women. The truth is, the minute a woman meets a man, whether consciously or subconsciously, she decides where she will allow this interaction to go. Be it a casual fling (including 1 night stand), an attempt at a relationship, nothing at all, or a potential platonic friendship, the woman is, as President Bush said it, the decider. A man can say or do what he wants, puff his chest, talk some game...but sorry boys, if you get some, it really has almost nothing to do with any of that and, if you don't get any, just drop it and leave it alone, you're not going to win. Orasio, in telling one of his many stories, actually touched on this same idea so I thought it would be a good time to fill you all in.

It's always been this way...and it is the same with most mammal species as well. Our evolutionary goal is to reproduce and pass on our genes. Although now, women often hold off to allow them time to educate themselves and mature and men hold off so they don't have to pay child support to too many baby mamas, dating and mating is still influenced by that base goal. Females have a limited ability to reproduce. They carry the offspring for months and cannot produce more during that time. For that reason, females have to be choosy and, evolutionarily, they don't need to be wasting time with some guy whose genes and means don't meet their criteria. Men just want to spread their seed everywhere and don't understand why, sometimes, women just don't dig them. That's not to say that a man might not be a little pickier about who he "commits" to rather than sleeps with or that a woman might not choose to have a one night stand with a guy who is not prime material...it all just boils down to the fact that women run the show. (I can also tie in why men act like "players" with these same evolutionary principles but I'll save it for another time).

And I digress...back to my accomplishments for today:

I went to the Vatican (FYI, water and umbrellas are ok, knives are not) and did not get struck by lightning. Given my work with planned parenthood and my general views on religion, I was sure today would be the day. Other than an odd moment in St. Peter's Basilica where I started to hear 3rd Saturday protesters praying the rosary, I got in and out unscathed. It was all beautiful and definitely worth the visit and excess clothing (shoulders covered and no pants/skirts above the knees). In the Sistine Chapel and through the exit I had a moment that made me want to scream. In the room with Michelangelo's fresco (is the plural "s" at the end or "es?") they ask that you are silent and take no photographs. I am not Catholic or even Christian and I followed those rules out of respect for the building, it's history, and those around me BUT everyone else was shouting and photographing and I'll bet you 99% of them were Catholic/Christian. Then, the exit was a maze that just kept putting you in shop after shop after shop. Really? The Vatican needs to make a profit that badly?

It's the part of religion that I will never understand. Although I have intense problems with inflicting or imposing one's religion on others, I strongly believe that each person, should they have religious beliefs, should be true to them and not just follow it because someone told them to. (i.e. the 1 and only time I observed Passover I felt like all I did was go on a no-carb diet for a week...the connection and meaning wasn't there for me so I didn't do it again). So if you are Catholic/Christian and you can't respect the seriousness of the Vatican and etc enough to shut up and put your camera away for 5 to 10 mins, reevaluate. And, if you are the Vatican, and all you care about is trying to get me to buy a trinket or a video about the Vatican, reevaluate. Thank you. *getting off my soap box*

I then went to a Lonely Planet recommended pizzeria. I'd been avoiding them because you can't just order a slice and, as 1 person, I didn't think it would look right for me to order/eat an entire pizza. Well, accomplishment #2 - I ate a whole (equal to about 4-5 slices), delicious, party in my mouth, tomato sauce, buffalo mozzarella, basil, and olive oil pizza. And a glass of wine. And a liter of water. And a cappuccino with a smiley face. Perfecto!

My waiter, who I named Mario, was adorable and spent most of my cappuccino drinking time filling me in on the history of Rome, telling me to go to St. Petersburg, Russia (he's never been), informing me about the Ming Dynasty, and encouraging me to watch more discovery channel and national geographic. Loved it.

Next, I changed into the above mentioned outfit and headed out to the Cemetery of the Capuchins, basically a crypt built and decorated with bones of friars and other important religious folks. Creepy. The woman at the door cracked me up though. She asked if I was alone and then said, "Good! No Italian husband for you!"

Finally, my big accomplishment for the day...*drum roll please*...I went to a Sephora and bought the necessary tools to fix my feet. No more dirt, no more rough heels, brand spankin new purple toe nail polish. I'd say it's about a 98% improvement and, once my arms recover, I'll get that last 2%. Phew!

And now I'm thinking it's gelato time. It's about 6 p.m. over here and I've already decided I'm having gelato for dinner, strolling around, coming back, taking a shower and packing my stuff. I have to leave for the airport by 6 a.m. tomorrow to meet my parents in London. Yay mom and dad (and 4 days til Amsterdam)!!!

And btw...the nasty neighbors in this hotel are still here. I don't know what they do in the bathroom but it makes me want to vomit. I stole my own roll of toilet paper because they kept soaking them in who knows what and all I can say is that I hope none of them shower before I do tonight because it's clean now but certainly was not clean when they got done with it this a.m. Also...one of them definitely has a TB cough. Fucking nasty (excuse my language).

See y'all in London!

One month down and my feet have never been dirtier

Yes, it's true. My feet need some help in a bad way...at this moment my toes are covered in Roman dust, my heels seem to be permanently black, and I have sandal tan lines all over the place. So nasty.

Rome is still amazing and unbelievable. I feel like I see one great thing and then turn around and see something 10 times better. Yesterday I set out with the intention of wandering "a bit" and ending up at the colosseum. Well...I headed over to Piazza Navona and then went looking for food. With the heat it's hard for me to fit much food into my stomach (aside from mass quantities of gelato) so I ended up getting some pizza and a glass of wine for €5 and moved right along.

I figured I could swing by the Jewish synagogue and museum and head right down to ancient Rome. Well...right in the middle of my walk I stumbled upon a sacred area on Largo Argentina or, as Susan suggested, smurf village, not so well hidden after all. I couldn't stop looking at it all, just sitting there in the middle of an intersection. Then I discovered there were controlled/vaccinated/sterilized/fed stray cats living down there and had to look around some more. I finally pulled myself away and ended up at the river. It was beautiful so I decided I would just look around quickly. Well, then I discovered Trastavere. I think it's my favorite neighborhood in Rome. Little winding streets and everything is beautiful everywhere. I officially love window boxes and any sort of greenery on porches and roofs. I was stuck around there for a while.

Eventually I did make it to the synagogue but right across the street was a huge area with more ruins that I had to walk through. Then the Jewish museum, then the tour of 2 synagogues and suddenly it was 5p.m and I desperately needed a nap.

After my nap I showered (I don't know why I shower here, there really is no point) and found a small place for gnocci and fresh seafood and a glass of white wine. Then, of course, I got some more gelato and called it a night.

Some weird hotel guests have moved in and seem to occupy the bathroom at all hours and they kind of smell and splash water everywhere. It's the 1st time, even at the hostels I've stayed at, that I've been annoyed with the people I'm sharing space with. I hope their stay is short...I've got 2 more nights.

This a.m. I FINALLY did my laundry. Victory!!! I was out the door by 8 a.m and back by 10. Didn't even interrupt my day. While my laundry was running I went to a small cafe around the corner and met Orasio. As I walked up to order my espresso he asked if I wanted an "English breakfast" and then asked me to sit with him. I ended up with a croissant and 2 espressos and it turns out, Orasio is a 49 year old Sicilian whose family immigrated to Australia. Orasio was a lawyer there until 9 or 10 years ago when he sold his firm and moved to Rome to own a cafe/restaurant and paint. He was very nice and easy to talk to and asked me for dinner tonight. Although I'm wary of the situation (even though I made my non-intentions clear) I'm sure I'll end up having an amazing meal and wine and it will be interesting at the very least.

After I folded my laundry I headed straight to ancient rome...no detours! (A nice ancient Roman soldier asked me out along the way but I declined. I don't date men in skirts/togas). The colosseum and forum and palatine were breathtaking but in a nerdy type of way. All this stuff I had seen and heard about was right there and huge and real. I don't really have the words to explain and I don't think even pictures do the entirety of the situation justice.

I had some pizza, bought a cute linen dress and a hat and then got some gelato. I'm about ready to go enjoy the AC for a bit (and my Italian siesta) before I shower and go meet Orasio.

Tomorrow, the Vatican where they require waaaaay too much clothing for the current temperature.

Lingerie, leather and gelato

Well, my camera battery died (which, if you've been to Rome, is a travesty) so it made for an excellent excuse to come back to my tiny room and enjoy the AC for a bit.

My backpack luckily made it to Rome on my flight and once again no one wants to check or stamp my passport. Maybe I'm a nerd but I was really looking forward to all the different country stamps. Apparently once you're in the EU they don't really care who you are or where you go.

The airport in Rome was hilarious. I kept thinking of the sign in the Philly airport reminding you to only get in a licensed taxi and avoid scams. As I walked toward the taxi line I kept getting approached by men saying "taxi" but then realizing they were not in fact taxi drivers. Luckily I found a real taxi...and then the driver took out a map, turned off his meter and said €40. I don't know if I got scammed or not but I got where I was going.

I'm staying in a cute little place here literally around the corner from Trevi Fountain. My room is a 4th floor walk up with a slanty ceiling and the obligatory Mary & Jesus painting over the bed. I've hit my head a few times, I can't see my full body in the mirror and I have to squat on the floor to put my makeup on BUT my room has AC. Done and done. Breakfast is included here and there is an espresso machine. After last night's full night of sleep and my 2 shots of espresso this a.m. I might be awake til London.

Yesterday afternoon I wandered a bit. I kept catching myself giving Rome dirty looks. Not because it's bad but more like when a gorgeous smooth talking man approaches you in a bar/club and you think "ugh, yeah right. I know what you want" because it's just too perfect to be real. Sometimes you get to know him better and occasionally end up pleasantly surprised. That's Rome. Every corner I turned just in the vicinity of my hotel alone provided a new amazing view. The fact that the Pantheon was just there, in a plaza, waiting for me to look at it (and then eat gelato and look at it some more) is incredible. Even the Trevi Fountain and it's massive crowds was the same deal. How did it get here, why is it still here, how is it so magnificent?

I was beat yesterday. My options were to jump into the fountain or reinstate the siesta and come take a nap. Given what the Italian legal system seems to think of Americans, I chose the nap. I got up, showered, got dressed, walked around for a bit and realized all I wanted to do was chill, read and listen to music and SLEEP. So I did.

Today I walked up to the Spanish steps and then further up to Piazza del Popolo (where my camera died). I headed back down to charge it and along the way found a laundromat. Guess who's going to be doing laundry at 7:30 tomorrow a.m? I'm actually pretty excited, not gonna lie. My walk back along Via del Corso went like this: lingerie shop, leather (shoes, purses, etc.) shop, gelato, lingerie, lingerie, leather, Zara, gelato, gelato, pharmacy, leather, lingerie... Apparently, that (and some wine, pasta or espresso occasionally) is all you really need in Rome.

As soon as my camera tells me we're ready I'm going to make my way over to Piazza Navona, maybe find some lunch and some wine likely followed by some gelato. Then I'm probably dedicating the rest of my afternoon to the Colosseum and ancient Rome.

What do you call a siesta in Italy? Chances are I'm going to do that too.

The heat is on

I'm writing this entry at the Prague airport waiting to board my €58 flight to Rome. Once again they made me check my backpack (free of charge - wtf is wrong with US carriers?). It's not because of the size, it's because you're only allowed one carry-on. I don't understand why. You still have under the seat in front of you and you still have the overhead compartment so why I couldn't bring both is a mystery to me. I am proud, however, as a recovering overpacker, that my backpack for over 6 weeks of travel is neither oversize nor overweight. I still cross my fingers every time I repack or check into a flight but so far, even with the addition of 1 pair of jeans, 4 shirts, a beach sheet, a pair of shoes, 2 dresses and 2 bejeweled drink stirrers I stole from a bar in Prague, the pack still has plenty of extra room.

I need to do real laundry soon. Handwashing is good for underwear and my "techwick" shirts and pants but there are some items that need a good washing and in the past 4 weeks I've only done that once. Apparently I did a good job packing because I don't feel dirty or smelly and don't miss the items that have been retired until I find a washing machine. Given that the temperature in Rome is supposed to be 95 degrees F for the next 4 days maybe I should wait til London to take care of that.

Prague was great. The combination of the people I met, the cooler temps and the beauty of just about everything (even the graffiti at times) really made me wish I could stay longer or go back soon.

As I already wrote, I spent most of yesterday wandering alone. I went out for nachos and margaritas (yes, I know, Mexican again) at a cool vegetarian restaurant and then grabbed a couple drinks at a place called the Cross Club (I think) which is basically built out of and decorated with metal junk that has been creatively turned into lights, stairs, balconies, fans, etc. It was pretty awesome but I decided taking pictures would make me stick out like a sore thumb among the locals so I refrained. They happened to play a pretty great reggae set for a while that made me happy. I miss music. At home/work I constantly have music playing. While traveling I don't want to walk around with my iPod on so when someone does have music playing or I'm in a bar with a good set I find myself getting kind of lost in it.

The night ended with a suggestion for a "better" strip club. Hahaha. I decided 1 Prague strip club is enough for this trip.

So, I think I may have upset Steve. He seemed to want to hang out and sight-see again yesterday but after I told him I was out and about on my own I saw him in the hostel and he didn't really talk to me. Obviously I've had my moments of loneliness on this trip where I craved company but I think I may have found a balance where I truly appreciate just being with myself and in my own head for a while. We'll see how I do in Rome. I'm staying in my own room which automatically makes it harder to meet people. I'm excited to have my own space for a bit but we'll see what I think when I head out for dinner by myself tonight.

I can't believe I only have 2.5 weeks left of this trip. Back when I was homesick in Toledo (Spain, not Ohio) someone told me that once I got over it I wouldn't want to go home. That's partially true. I miss my friends, family, cats and the familiarity of Philly. I hear about concerts or the "Back on Your Feet" run and I want so much to be there. Part of me still has my fingers crossed about the job I applied to before I left both for the job and so I can put some roots back down. The other part of me is dying to go to Australia and New Zealand with my brother both for the time with Evan and also because I'm still itching to see more and do more.

Prague was a little confusing for me. Spain was a growing/learning experience about being on my own. Paris was both comfortable because Margeau was there but also where I realized I enjoy my own company. Prague was where I was calm, content, chill and that made me think a lot about what and who and where I need around me to be happy. I'm interested to see what happens to my thought process in Italy (where I will likely struggle a bit with the language part again), in England and in Amsterdam with my parents.

Sorry for no pictures or hilarious adventures in this entry. From what I've heard about Italy, I'm sure I'll get back on my game (assuming I survive the sweltering temperatures in Rome).

I apologize to all the cities I've loved along the way, I'm having an affair with Prague

It's hard to find time to blog lately but that's not due to a lack of things to say. It's probably due to how busy I'm keeping myself, how calm I feel, and that I've met some really cool people here. Spain is still my love, mostly because of the language and the ocean but there is something about Prague that I just don't want to leave.

Saturday night I ended up going with some people who work at the hostel for Mexican food. Yeah, you're thinking "Mexican food in Prague!?" but it had to be done. If you know me, you know my deep deep relationship with Mexican food. 3.5 weeks apart was too much to handle and Frank (from Prague) and his wife Christina (from Arizona) swore that this place was the real deal. Given Arizona's new immigration law inspired by the amount of Mexicans in that state, I think Christina is a pretty good authority. So the 3 of us, along with Preston and Biggs the dog, had a pretty delicious dinner. I didn't love the tortilla soup but the burrito I had and the taco I tasted were pretty great.

At some point during dinner Preston bought a round of tequilla shots. That led to meeting up with a guy named Milan (hope I spelled that right) and heading down to the river to drink and etc. We hit up another bar where we overheard a man talking at the top of his lungs about religion. I am not a religious person but I do enjoy learning about people's beliefs and stances. This man happened to think that, of all religions, Jews believe in the most "disgusting God." He didn't really explain why but he said it over and over. He also said that most Jews are atheists and they're ok with him but the others, they're disgusting. If I hadn't thought the man was completely irrational I may have tried to discuss his reasoning. Instead, Preston tried to interject and, although the anti-semite ignored him, a young girl promptly began following him around the bar begging him to email her. Classic.

And then the rain came...

At first it was just a drizzle, then it was rain, and then it was periodic downpours. If I felt the need to go for a run in Prague, it was satisfied that night. Luckily I had a mom-inspired ziploc for my cell phone but unfortunately I was wearing a white shirt and my new shoes. Even more unfortunate is trying to find a cab in Prague with a wet dog. Needless to say, my shirt didn't serve much purpose and my shoes, although waterproofed, no longer look brand new. Regardless, it was one of the most fun nights I've had on my trip. I don't think I've laughed that hard in a long time and, if not for the blisters on my feet, I don't think I would have minded the rain at all.

Yesterday the rain continued for a bit. I met a guy named Steve in the hostel common room and we met up to go through the Jewish area, the Jewish museum, and the Jewish cemetery. I found some Goldners on a wall in one of the synagogues - notably a Ludvik (my grandfather was Ludwig) and a Herman (that was the name my mom gave my dad when she couldn't recall his name after their initial meeting). Although I couldn't read the inscriptions on the headstones, I was touched by the cemetary and especially so by the rocks and pebbles that had been placed on the reachable ones. (In the Jewish religion, you don't leave flowers when you visit a grave, you leave a rock. I don't know why, but that's what it is).

We then headed up to the castle and explored the Cathedral and the grounds. It was a bit chilly still even though the rain stopped so we tried some hot red wine before heading back down the hill. It was like warm apple cider but better. Speaking of cider (the alcoholic kind), I had a bottle yesterday at some cute little street fair and drank it on our walk to the John Lennon wall (basically a wall that started during Prague's tumultuous times as a call for peace and now it's totally legal and acceptable to add your own message). The John Lennon wall was followed by some delicious potato soup and a Pilsner (also delicious) and finally a chance to chill back at the hostel.

I was beat and had a bit of a headache but I was not going to pass up my czech food dinner. I went with Preston, and Steve met us a bit later, (yes...Philly people, Preston & Steve, get it? Haha!) to Preston's favorite Czech place. I don't think I've ever had beef so soft. The bread dumplings and potato pancakes were excellent as well. Let's not forget yet more beer and Preston's choice of a round of sambucca shots. Bleck. Does any one remember the last time I had a sambucca shot? The correct answer: it was the night I earned the "wild bobcat" nickname. Luckily, last night, I just went to bed.

Today the weather is gorgeous. It's cool and clear. I wandered my way south of the city center then over to the river and back again for a few hours. Preston told me it would be too far of a walk...well, he underestimated my love of and ability to walk forever. And now I'm back in the old town center people watching and soaking it all in. I think some ice cream might be necessary soon.

In all my conversations with Preston and Steve the topic of what I want to do both professionally and personally has come up. It's funny because my thoughts feel so much clearer lately but I still can't give a good answer to those questions. I was able to definitively say that I haven't closed the door on marriage (after discussing my divorce) but it's hard to explain how I'd like to be a lawyer/scuba shop owner/teacher/permanent traveler when asked what's next. I define myself as a lawyer quite easily. I guess I just have to figure out how to make it what I love.

Just realized I should go pack my stuff up so I don't miss my flight tomorrow...who knows where I'll end up tonight. Oddly, I'm craving asian food.

Beer, beer, sex, beer

(This should have been posted yesterday, July 17th).

I made it to Prague. It was different flying rather than taking a train this time (I actually realized that I'm mostly done with long train trips in Europe) and I was annoyed that they made me check my backpack but the bag made it and it was pretty harmless. I was worried, after my experience in Paris, that if my backpack got "lost" it may never be found again.

I took a bus and the subway to find my hostel which is literally 1/2 block from the astronomical clock and old town hall. It's great. I don't know if I get lost less than I did at the beginning of my trip or if I'm just more relaxed about it and don't worry if I make a few circles or zig zags along the way.

The hostel is nice, big, clean, and Preston (from San Diego) the front desk guy and Jason (from Virginia) the pub crawl/events guy are great. Not to mention Mister Bigs the hostel pit bull mascot. The only downside, no air conditioning and it is HOT. Right now I think it actually might rain so I'm hiding out in the common room. No need to get caught under an awning like in Paris.

I wandered around a bit yesterday evening and got a feel for where I am. While I waited at the airport in Paris I had already read up, studied my map and circled where I wanted to go. Then I joined the hostel pub crawl with Jennifer and Grace, sisters from Colombia.

At the 1st bar we discovered a huge Jenga set with drinking games and directions written on each piece. A group of about 6 of us (the Colombian sisters, Nick from California, Alex from Australia, 2 Brazillian guys and whoever else wandered in and out of the game) set up and played there for a couple hours. Yes, I had to wear a toilet paper turban, yes, someone drew a uni-brow on me and yes I drank a ton of beer. It was all kinda great. After that we went to a club. It was actually my 1st club in Europe. It was packed, it was sweaty, but it was oddly still enjoyable. We then crawled to a club called Duplex where there was supposed to be a pirate party. I was waiting outside to go in talking to a British guy who looked like Elijah Wood and I just was not in the club mood. Nick from California wasn't either so we grabbed some street beers and walked back toward the hostel.

Nick came up with the bright idea that we should go to the strip club 2 doors down from our hostel. I have never been to a strip club before (where women strip, that is), even in America, so I figured then was as good a time as any to try it out. And that's what we did. It was entertaining. One of the strippers even told me she liked me and kissed me. (Boys, that one is for you).

Today I made my way to Charles Bridge, a cute riverside fair, the Communist Museum (which happens to be in the middle of a huge shopping area and directly next to a McDonalds), the Museum of Torture, and the Sex Machine Museum. It's official, I've gone to some sort of sex museum in every country I've been to.

Now it looks like rain and I'm waiting it out in the common room until I get out for dinner/drinks. So far, I'm cool with Prague.

Do you smell broccoli? and the end of our week in Paris

Believe it or not, I am sitting in the airport in Paris with a flight to Prague in just a few hours. It has been a jam packed week. Margeau and I got to the requisite museums and sites, did our best to touch each neighborhood and I made sure we tried my list of foods to eat in France (crepes, tartelettes (although we had to hunt quite a while for just the right ones), goat cheese, bread, wine, I'm sure there's more...) while Margeau made sure we hit every perfume shop, boutique and department store.

I think if I had come to Paris without Margeau I would have gone back to Spain after a few days. Spain is for me. I love the individuality, the warmth, the food (even the tons of ham and cheese), the language, the beaches...everything.

Paris is not my city. I decided that on my run yesterday morning. Paris is gorgeous - the buildings, the people, it's all beautiful. But, in Paris, we've been walked on, rolled on, ignored and given more attitude than in a high school cafeteria. Margeau knows as much French as I do Spanish and when she attempted to speak it there was no effort made on the other end to attempt to understand or communicate (or, in the alternative we have found some people PRETEND not to understand when it is clear they do). Use symbols, hand gestures, point to something on a map...anything! Don't just roll your eyes and shrug your shoulders. I know some phrases and questions in French, most important being: Do you speak French?, hello/goodbye/please/thank you, it's good, I would like... but I basically stopped speaking whatsoever and just looked at Margeau and hoped she would cover for me.

In Spain I did my best and I messed up a lot but the people did their best right back. Some were eager to try out their English or slowed down to allow me to communicate with them in my Spanish. Or there was Pepe in Sevilla or Yon in Madrid who each spoke to me in English but encouraged me to practice my Spanish.

In my opinion, the people in Paris seem completely self-involved. In Spain the people were beautiful because they were. They wore silly hammer pants and tattered clothes and worn-in sandals and they were incredible. In Paris, people are beautiful because they have the perfect clothes, the perfect shoes, the perfect accessories.

I also believe, the amount of fat and cheese in the French diet leads to constipation and puts them in a horrible mood. I can admit, however, that after 2.5 weeks in salad-less Spain I was happy to get a couple delicious salads in Paris - it was just that the salads were accompanied by a pound of country ham and a full round of goat cheese.

Speaking of cheese and fat, I tried confit de canard (spelling might be off) one night. It is defined as preserved duck cooked in its own fat. I'm proud I tried it and embarrassed to admit I loved it! (I still stand by my statement that there is no bad food in France - even the "stuck in a rain storm" french onion soup we had on the way to the Pompadou was good enough). Regarding cheese, brie in Paris, in our experience, smells like broccoli. We smell it in restaurants and, unfortunately, we bought some for our room and stashed it in the mini-bar fridge. Ewwww. Broccoli room for days! (And let's not forget that I hand washed a bunch of clothes in our bathroom sink and hung it around the room to dry. I wish I could hear what the hotel staff has to say about all that!)

While I still stand by my marriage proposal to any and all croissants in Paris, I miss my €1 street beers from Spain and the ability to eat/drink in the street or on the run. Paris culture regarding food involves sitting and savoring (and A LOT of money). I would also like to suggest that Paris discover air conditioning, deodorant (as previously noted) and ice/refrigeration. No, it's not ok to serve water warm yet chill your red wine.

What has been amusing is that many people assume Margeau and I are a couple (perhaps it's my short hair, although a lot of women have short hair in Paris). We went out for incredible Moroccan food and, once the waiter stopped slamming buckets of spices and our glasses, he asked us who was in charge (like "who wears the pants?"). I pointed to Margeau. Our hotel also addressed our welcome letter to Mr. and Mrs. Ney. Well, we have been sharing a bed...

Hmmm, what else? Ah...museums. I mentioned in the last entry that the Louvre was not enjoyable for us. In the Musee d'Orsay Margeau decided that people should observe art in an orderly line. I can't say I disagree although I can admit that perhaps 2 lawyers shouldn't be trusted to enforce rules regarding art appreciation. I can proudly say, however, that I am beginning to be able to recognize the works of certain artists and I think it's kind of cool.

One thing both Paris and Spain have in common: PDA. Waaaaaaay too much public display of affection. I don't want to hear your slobbery kiss and it's not acceptable to hold up a ticket line because you're making out and grabbing someone's ass. And no, this is not because I'm without a significant other over here. This is me and my general stance on PDA. Get a room! All this and I still have 1.5 weeks in Italy coming up. Oy vey!

Despite my comments on Paris, I had a great time this week with Margeau. After being on my own for 2.5 weeks and becoming accustomed to the differences in pace and expectation and crowds in Europe, we were often on a different page as far as our traveling style. Margeau had 1 week to do everything where, in my head, I feel like I have all the time in the world. I'm sure my new-found slow sightseeing walk annoyed the crap out of her. Luckily, Margeau and I have the same views on art museums and landmarks and how much time to invest in them so that worked very well. If she had wanted to stare at a piece of Monet's work for 5 hours we would have had some issues.

Our biggest difference is shopping. First, I have no job and only a backpack with 3 more weeks of traveling so even if I wanted to buy a ton of stuff, I couldn't. I'm not much of a shopper, however, in general. I'm usually a run in, look around, know immediately what, if anything I want, make a decision and bounce type shopper. (I apologize to my friends and family - your souvenirs from my trip are probably going to suck for the above reasons). When I travel, and I think this is a "Goldner thing," I tend to wander into interesting boutiques and browse around while I'm sightseeing. (My parents are known for dragging my brothers and me into countless glass blowing stores (or pottery, or art) all over the world to look for the next unique turtle and for my dad exclaiming occasionally "I feel like spending money, why is no one buying anything?") I don't usually wake up with the intention to go shopping, unless for something specific, and rarely would I go to a department store (even in the states that is a true statement).

Margeau shops. And to be honest, I was with it for a couple days. Thanks to her I got myself a few Europe-ish shirts, a pair of skinny jeans (she swears my legs don't look like trees), and an excellent pair of shoes - all in my price range and on sale. In all of Spain I bought myself a pair of earrings and a mezuzah so Paris was progress for me, the non-shopper. We also hit some amazing flea markets and vintage spots which I enjoyed rummaging through as well.

While I could have wandered various neighborhoods and kept hopping in and out of stores some more, Margeau prefers department stores. Yesterday, the day after the torrential downpours, the weather was perfection. It was cooler, it was crisp, it was perfect blue skies and I just couldn't put myself in a department store. I parted ways from Margeau and wandered through the Latin Quarter, a neighborhood we hadn't seen during the day.

*Sigh* I found a cute little creperie and got a fabulous chocolate crepe (with whipped cream or chantilly as they say in Paris) and a cafe au lait (or actually 2). Then I wandered over to a park near the Notre Dame for a bit, then to Luxemborg Gardens for the 2nd time, passed the cafe we went to on our first day (and saw the 1st rude waiter we encountered) and met back up with Margeau.

She had discovered an amazing market and we went in to look around. For the millionth time, the French know food. This market had honey and spices and olive oil and pastries like you wouldn't believe. They had designer sugar cubes and aisles of gourmet chocolate. Heaven. And then I found what I assume was the "American" section - a display of oreo cookies and Jones root beer. Haha! And that just about sums up what they think of us.

Last night we went back to eat within view of the Eiffel Tower. Yes, it lights up and sparkles. Yes, I think it's amazing to watch. We had spinach and cheese quiche and a salad filled with hearts of palm, artichoke, shrimp and crab followed by our individual hazelnut and chocolate fudge sundaes (with chantilly). Oh, and did I mention we downed 2 bottles of wine? Ok, maybe some of Paris is for me.

And now I'm on my own again for 4 nights in Prague followed by 4 nights in Rome before I meet up with my parents in London/Amsterdam for a week. The internal monologue I got used to in Spain went kind of silent in France, probably because I had a companion. On my morning runs and in the park yesterday I could feel it starting to come back and I'm looking forward to a little "me time" again.

I think, and Margeau and I discussed last night, that there has to be a healthy balance between socializing, relationships/friendships, and your own time and space. I realized when I planned this trip and was forced to make decisions like what to do about a job or a relationship that I never just do anything for myself. I always worry about what someone else needs or feels and incorporate that into my decisions somehow. For example(s):

One day in Paris, Margeau didn't like her salad and I worried for a while in my head about where she could get food even though I had eaten and she's an adult capable of feeding herself if need be.

Before I left on this trip, a lot of friends reached out to spend time with me. I love my friends and I miss them tons but some of those days I thought that maybe I'd just like to run and read on my own and not have a lunch date...but I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

When I thought about quitting my job I worried about my clients and the work burden that would fall on the shoulders of the lawyers/secretaries I had been working with.

When my little brother Jason passed away I couldn't tell anyone I wanted to be alone because I didn't want to insult their attempts to help and I couldn't tell my parents how upset I was because I wanted them to be able to grieve and not worry about me.

I think that the ability to put others first is a good quality. I admire it in others and I'm proud that it usually comes naturally to me but I think I also need to learn when to put myself first and how to not feel guilty about it. Very fitting for this blog, as its title was inspired by a Virginia Woolf quote, are some thoughts from another Virginia Woolf essay, perhaps better known, "a room of one's own," which I came across in the Pompadou Centre the other day. She states that the 2 indispensable requirements for creative activity were 500 pounds a year and a room of one's own. Although she was referring specifically to women escaping family life and we probably need quite a bit more than 500 pounds a year these days, I think she is 100% correct and even in a broader sense. For any person to truly know themselves, know their thoughts, know their strengths and weaknesses and make the best of them (be that creatively or not) all you need is some personal time and space...even if all it entails is a once-a-week cup of coffee and a table in a corner for an hour by yourself or a solo stroll through a museum or a bench in a park. I'm a believer.

Finally, my 3 week (plus a couple days) check in. I have received some feedback on my blog that I appreciate more than words can express encouraging me in my struggles with occasional loneliness and my ability to make the best of challenging situations. These are all new or at least different experiences, realizations and feelings that I've written about and it's all been both difficult to experience and difficult to write about knowing anyone out there can read it. My mom wrote to me a week or so ago and told me that she has learned more about me through my blog over 2 weeks than she had in my entire 29 years of life prior. It made me a little teary eyed because I think I feel the same way about myself.

And now I will stop rambling and go read about Prague...guess I should know something other than "it's beautiful" and "they have great beer" before I get there. Ciao!

Of course! It's a fnac!

So much to say about the past 36 hours or so, so little time. Between technical phone/email difficulties and traveling with Margeau (making it difficult to find time to walk around thinking/talking to myself) I just haven't been able to blog as I would like.

Yesterday was our first full day in France. We started at a lonely planet approved flea market (well, actually we started at a cafe near the flea market where I proposed marriage to my croissant) that had everything from stolen cell phones to trendy clothes to niknaks to antique furniture to vintage chanel jewelry that I was afraid to even look at. I found myself a Paris designed and made dress that I love...despite my discovery when I got back to the hotel that it had 2 flowers each perfectly placed on each butt cheek. Bulls eye!

We then made our way to hilly Montmarte to see the artsy but also red light area of Paris. I loved the little shops and adorable streets. The view up the hill to the Sacre Coeur and then from the Sacre Coeur over the city were equally amazing and definitely worth the hike. We headed back down the hill to find the Museum of Eroticism (once again showing silent black and white porn that I find a bit troubling) and Moulin Rouge (which we learned a bit about, along with other old brothels in Paris at the Museum of Eroticism) and came across an adorable children's store. Margeau needed to buy a gift for a 1 year old and soon learned one of my well kept secrets...for a non-parent, I have an uncanny amount of knowledge about the developmental stages of babies and toddlers.

After Montmarte we were beat and went back to the hotel to regroup and get ready for dinner and the World Cup Final. One of the men who works at our hotel suggested that we head to the Eiffel Tower where the game was being shown in big screen outdoors and where we could also find a cafe for dinner. We hopped on the metro and realized that everyone in Paris was doing the same thing. Have you ever been on a packed, non air conditioned subway car, in Paris, in the summer? Don't. (Today I thought perhaps I forgot to put deodorant on. Then I realized, so did the rest of Paris and I stopped feeling bad. Bleck).

After the subway ride we decided to just sit at a cafe and eat (or actually DRINK) rather than continue to follow the mob. It ended up being the perfect arrangement. We had a fabulous dinner (again, no bad food in Paris yet), plenty of wine, some cheese and dessert all while within view of the Eiffel Tower and all of the people and their flag capes and vuvuzelas. Better yet, Keem and all the various passers by kept us up to speed on the game score and time. We also had great conversation. Thought provoking if you will. For instance, why do most Jewish parents send their children to all/mostly Jewish camps every summer? Why does the Moshulu advertise so heavily to black people in Philly and why are they ok all getting on a boat together?

Once it got dark the Eiffel Tower was totally lit up and occasionally had a few minutes of sparkling. Along with that, drunk soccer fans started trying to make their way home. A woman told our waiter that "The WHOLE metro was closed!!" 2 drunk men each, individually tried to pull up chairs to our table and join us. According to our waiters, we did not have time for speaking with them.

Once Spain scored and won and the crowds increased (as did the police) we saw a look of worry on our waiters' faces. They moved us and all other outside guests indoors, along with all tables and chairs and locked the doors as well as began barricading us inM Margeau asked me if I thought they would turn off the lights too so no one would know we were there. I told her, maybe, it's kind of like being in an "Anne Frank" restaurant.

We finally decided to leave our restaurant and start our walk home along the river. Even though we learned the metro was running, neither of us wanted to be all cramped up with all of Paris again. As we walked we had the most breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower, all while attempting to avoid the over excited very drunk people still out partying. I found both the tower and the people to be wonderful. Maybe that's because I got used to crowds and rowdiness in Spain but to me it was a wonderful night.

I watched Margeau yesterday go through what I experienced weeks ago: jet lag, confusion in a new place, frustration both with getting lost and with not being able to communicate in a language you think you know (for her, French, for me, Spanish), the crowds and the generally slower pace of life here. I realized that I didn't give myself enough credit for adjusting to all of that, especially with a side of homesickness and lonliness. I gave Margeau my best advice: when you get lost, slow down and appreciate what's around you anywayj; don't let a bad moment or event ruin your whole day, breathe, let go; and be glad each day that you haven't been robbed yet. I can say that today Margeau was 1000% better....especially considering her camera was no where to be found when we woke up this a.m.

So the camera was gone. She had it in the lobby when we got home last night but today, nothing. Margeau asked our hotel where to buy a camera and we were sent to "fnac" (the name of an electronic store in France). When Margeau asked if she could defonitely get a camera there, the response was "Of course! It's a fnac!" And indeed, the fnac was pretty much a best buy. There, Margeau learned another hidden secret of mine...I know a lot about cameras and photography. (I'm actually kicking myself that I only brought my "point n shoot" and not a better camera on this trip).

After solving the camera dilemma we walked up to the Louvre and it was pretty much hell for both of us: crowds, heat, children, and tourists who don't do a good job of walking while photographing. We saw the Mona Lisa, we saw Venus de Milo and then we basically fled and worked our way up L'Opera to do a bit of shopping.

On our way back to the hotel we swung by a market to get some water, wine (2 bottles), bread, cheese, olives and fruit to enjoy in our room - all for under €20. Delicious! We also decided that we can go there each day to get breakfast croissants and "bag lunches" to save some money and allow ourselves to keep splurging on dinner.

Finally, tonight we made our way to the Latin Quarter area for dinner and then wandered to a creperie where the whole world disappeared into my caramel and vanilla ice cream and whipped cream crepe. That area seems like a very cool night spot and I hope we make our way back there before we leave. On our way back to the metro we made a small wrong turn and stumbled upon the absolutely incredible Notre Dame. The building on the cathedral began in 1163 and, looking at it fully lit up tonight, it was surreal to imagine that it has existed for that many hundreds of years. And that is why I like getting lost in Europe...it's like your own little expedition and the further off the plan you go, the better it seems to get.