Tourists and the Temperature

This morning, on my morning walk through Schiphol Airport, there was a huge group of teenagers standing in the middle of the main room. They were cute, young, fresh, just off a flight from somewhere, probably the US. Of course I never did that sort of thing. My opinion was always, Fifteen hundred dollars for twelve days in Europe? No thanks. I'll wait.

I've always been like that. When my mother offered me a black and white television one year at Christmas for my big gift, I asked for a color. I said, "You don't have to give me anything else. I swear. Just a color television."

My mother said, "We're only giving black and white. It's that or nothing."

I took nothing. I got stuff, but I never got a television. If I was going to cloister myself away in my room so I could watch my own shows in private, it wasn't going to be on a black and white set. Please!

It's been so amazingly cold out. It's uncomfortably cold. It's the kind of cold where I don't go out unless I really have to. (Of course I'll do that in the summer, too, but that's not the point.)

A friend of mine, a woman, told me, "When I got to work this morning, I was crying. My nipples were so hard that they hurt! I was in pain!" Thanks. Now I'm picturing her nipples.

I've taken to doing the sudoku with my gloves on. I wear my ear protectors. They're the 180 brand. They're wonderful, but they are not very popular here and I look a little bit like a sissy, to these Dutch folks, I'm sure.

Of course I still ride my bike everywhere, but that's just one of those things that you do that you get used to and it's just how life is. I would hate walking everywhere, and waiting for a tram drives me a little nuts. The good thing is that it's mostly dry so there's not many hidden ice patches. This really is the time when it gets unbearably cold. December was nothing. January and February are too much. Still, I'd rather be here than anywhere else.