We are going to get so much ass here, it's going to be sick. I'm talking like crazy boy band ass.

There is a prevalent notion held by many people (and reinforced by movies like "Sex in the City") that NYC is the place with the most beautiful people, running around looking beautiful all the time.

These people are wrong.

Women (and a growing population of men) in New York, admittedly, take care of their shit and are certainly put together. But people themselves are not beautiful they way they are in Amsterdam. There is just no contest. I'll give you that people in New York are probably more graceful (maybe that's why I don't fit in...I actually have scars forming from this past visit), but in terms of straight up hotness, the mannen en vrouwen of the Netherlands win.

All the short NY bankers in their fancy suits (those that are still left with jobs, that is...) simply can't hold a candle to the tall blonde men in capris (gasp!) and highwaters. And so, I have been attempting to blend in with these beautiful people by trying to learn how to ride my bike without a) getting whiplash from checking people out and b) flashing the entire world because I can't keep my legs together in a short dress (that sounds wrong; everyone knows I am a believer in abstinence: Penny between the knees is the safest and cheapest form of birth control).

Perhaps the bicycles are clouding my vision. (I have cheer sex all the time with guys riding by; it's so much better than when walking...think about running and how the extra-speed is like a get-out-of-jail free card to give the once over to anyone who passes in the opposite direction. It's like that, but EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME and you aren't sweaty and getting passed by 64-year-old guys with merlin beards in awkwardly small running shorts.) Or perhaps it's the fact that the sun is up, oh, 19 hours of every day, and that people are outside all the time with actual smiles. Whatever it is, I was shocked on my return at how friggin hot Amsterdammers are in the summer.

Now, all you people who have talked about coming to visit but never put your balls on the line -- you've got a month or two to get out here and take advantage before the city starts preparing for winter hibernation and people only leave their houses for rations. And since I know you all well enough to know that's not going to happen (fine, screw you, more for me), I recommend checking out the women's Dutch swim team in Beijing to get a sense of what I mean -- some chick in the relay last week actually winked at me (yes, right at me and only me) before they got on the blocks and won the event. Flirt with the crowd and bring home the gold, how hot is that?

Ahhh, it's great to be young and insane

Back in Amsterdam after a GREAT month in the States. It's been a long time since I have been excited to be back in the U.S. (I spent some QT in Brooklyn and decided that the Death Star force of Manhattan is not as strong in the boro). Jacko's wedding was awesome, my hangover the morning of was not. This was the first time I'd ever been in a wedding...I did not realize the pain that morning hair appointments can cause. Oh well, little sister who can't handle her booze until the day I die I guess. There's not too much to say about the wedding other than it was basically perfect. There was lots of man-crying (the sensitive males in my family are not above that) and a general consensus that no two people balance each other the way J&M do. And that there probably are other people this happy, but no one happier...


Laundry list of all the other cool shiznit that went down (in no particular order of importance or chronology):
Checked out my dad's new place (how many bathrooms?!?); got lost in Rock Creek Park, Chandra-Levy style; tried to go black (coffee), but came back; bought a sensible white suit (Miami Vice Halloween here we come); had a typical Saturday night at Chadwicks; hosted a "start strong, go home early" bar crawl on Smith St.; "partied" with mom; visited C&A in Rochester; saw Springsteen in a state of enlightenment; had the best hangover experience of my life (check out roadmonkey.net); co-hosted a Christmas party in August (and concluded that small parties with too much booze is my new favorite thing); planned for a crazy Miami reunion in October (!despedida de soltera!); named Johnny Black and ginger my drink of the month (can't unseat the greyhound...yet); fell and skinned my knee like a 10 year old (sober); exposed the Dutch to Junior's cheesecake; exposed the Dutch to Corner Bistro; road tripped, Coltrane style; determined that I like dogs (Kona) more than cats, but that I'm not mature enough for the former so it might have to be the later; heard best friend #2 got engaged; fell and skinned my knee like a 10 year old (drunk...same knee); and decided I missed America (and that I'm okay saying that outloud).