Europe Adventure: Hallo (Part 1 of 3)

Since January, Ryan and I spent many evenings planning, researching and booking adventures for our trip to Europe! We decided to stick to three countries - The Netherlands, Belgium and France. From there, we chose what towns to visit based on our interests, TripAdvisor reviews and our desire to experience the culture in each city. On May 1, we checked into our flights, had a few drinks and took off (with the help of Icelandic Air). Vacation had officially started!

Here is a semi-quick breakdown of our adventures in The Netherlands and some photos to add a little color to the text. Let me just add that this was by far the best vacation I have ever had ... 1.) Since I was with my husband, and 2.) Since I left all of life's worries and responsibilities in Boston. YES!

Day 1 - Day 3: Amsterdam 

Beautiful canals of Amsterdam.

Amsterdam filled all of my senses with sweet goodness. I loved the row houses, the architecture, the people, the beer, the food, the styles, our tourist guide, the cheese ...ahh, just everything. Plus, how can you not fall in love with a city full of canals, each marking a different time in history. 

We visited the Anne Frank House - emotional. We toured Amsterdam's City Centre with Michael from Oh My Amsterdam tours - educational (side note, other American tourists on tour = very annoying). We shared beers at a local hangout, SoundGarden, with our tour guide - pretty cool. We had dinner at a local spot blocks away from any tourists and managed to order our meal even though Dutch doesn't roll off our tongues (at all) - delicious. We decided to try out a coffeeshop and test the local flavor - when in Rome. We successful avoided being hit by any bikers - quite a feat. We toured the Rijksmuseum - inspiring and impressive. We rented our car, Hubert, and bid fare well to our FAVORITE city - exhilarating and sad. Buh-Bye Amsterdam.

Flower market

"Coffeeshop" as seen in Ocean's Twelve. Truly a place to legally get high.

All stairs in Amsterdam are crazy steep.

Rijksmuseum

Biking is the way to get around in Amsterdam.

Day 3 - Day 4: Rotterdam 

Delfshaven, the best part of Rotterdam.

En route to Rotterdam, the second biggest city in The Netherlands, I had my trusty directions and Ryan was in charge of making sure we survived the roadways -- we were good to go, that is, until we got to the actual city. After driving around lost for 45 minutes, we miraculously came across a road we recognized in my directions and found our boutique hotel! If you ever want to test your marriage, get lost in a foreign city. ;) I can't say we were very impressed with Rotterdam. It has cool, modern architecture and lots of diversity (especially compared to Amsterdam), but it just felt kind of blah. With that said, we made the most of our day there. In Rotterdam we -- checked out the shopping district; visited Delfshaven, a port town dating back to the 1600s; got up close and personal with our first windmill; found the coolest punk bar and proceeded to enjoy copious amounts of beer (preparing ourselves for Belgium beer); and then crashed in our two twin beds. Yep, I accidentally booked a room with two small beds instead of one. Classic. I can't say being romantic in that room didn't come without its challenges and laughter.

After trying to find somewhere to eat breakfast in the morning and failing, we grabbed protein bars and headed to our next stop -- Brussels. Although, we had one minor stop at a monastery to tend to first, which you will read more about in my "Europe Adventure: Goeiendag  (Part 2 of 3)". Come back for more next week!

Driving to Rotterdam in Hubert!

Starting off our Rotterdam tour appropriately.What you don't see if a plate of cheese and meat!

We came across this gem while touring the shopping district.

Honestly, I don't know the name of this building but it's pretty cool!

Delfshaven - dating back to 1600s.

My windmill!

Spring, Spring Everywhere

When Ryan and I passed the first cherry blossom tree sprouting its colorful flowers, I insisted on taking a photo to document the occasion, even though we came across the tree at 11 p.m. Does that tell you just a hint of my excitement for spring? 

Spring in Boston is a glorious time in my opinion. For those unfamiliar with the city in the winter - I'll give you a quick breakdown. It's cold, it's cold, it's cold and it's actually pretty unsightly. The trees are all bare with lovely plastic bags flying in them (see Snow and Dancing) and everything just looks gray around the city. Massachusetts isn't like Washington with tons of evergreens (hence the Evergreen State title) to keep it green and beautiful all year long. We have deciduous trees everywhere here -- all over the city, along the freeways, in my work parking lot -- you get the point. So these bare trees make for a pretty gloomy city during winter. Hence, the first blooming cherry blossom tree marking spring's arrival is a celebrated occasion in my mind. It's also a perfect time for Ryan to make fun of me for acting like a giddy child on Christmas Eve awaiting Santa's arrival.

After being away from Boston for a two-week trip to Europe (post coming soon), we returned to a city brought back to life. Green as far as the eye can see. The deciduous trees have come back to life, leaving their dormant winter status and waking up Boston to prepare us for our brief but lovely spring.

The thing about spring in Boston is that it is truly brief. May is our one month of spring; the transition from winter to summer. When I compare Boston's spring to Seattle's, it's like comparing the100-meter dash to a marathon. Boston sprints through spring whereas Seattle enjoys the ride. I don't have a great example to share to demonstrate this comparison. All I can say is one day in Boston it will be 66 degrees, let's say May 29, and the next day it will be 75 degrees with humidity and the next and the next .... just like that it'll be summer. Goodbye hints of 60-degree weather and hello 80s, 90s and 100s. I'll enjoy spring while I can!

On a separate note, I can't leave this blog post without mentioning the Boston Marathon Bombing. The day was horrible; a tragic way to end the marathon that is usually a wonderful celebration for all in the city, no matter your class, color, etc. We're thankful that Boston lived up to its M*asshole status ... "You mess with the city; you hurt our people; and we will find you. We will shut down the entire city and hunt you the fuck down." It worked. Ryan and I both agreed that we couldn't imagine any other city going to such extremes to find two suspects, but then again, I've never known a city quite like Boston. 

And with that, I'll end this post -- Boston Strong.

Some Things Never Change

While I have learned that living on the East Coast means learning a new way of life, embracing change and trying to be trendy, one thing remains the same on both Coasts ... the love people have for animals.

We live in a dog friendly neighborhood and it's not uncommon to see a couple, a man, a woman, or even school children out walking their dog -- small, big, fluffy, sleek, muscular, plump, happy, cautious -- you name it, we see it. What binds all of these dog owners together is not necessarily the fact that they have dogs, but the fact that their expressions are always ones of content. Just being with their dog, brings them a sense of peace. Now well, I should admit that when said dog does his business in the wrong spot, said owner is not so thrilled. But it does bring a smile to all the onlookers who understand the frustration and humor in it all. The dog stopping in the crosswalk amid angry Boston drivers just so he can do his business ... quite hilarious. 

I find the love of animals on the East Coast a welcome relief from everything else that can be unpredictable in life here, including the crazy winter weather. :) My favorite activity in the summer is to go on a long run during a quiet weekend morning and then purposefully run a few extra blocks to stretch so I can be part of the "dog pack". Yep, that's my term for it ... the park filled with dogs of all breeds and sizes running around for joy and, of course, to chase a ball, squirrel or just bark because they can. How can you not love seeing dogs embracing life, letting loose and just being happy. 

I've never missed having a dog of my own in Boston since I get to enjoy so many others, but today, that feeling left me and a sadness filled my heart. I do miss a dog, Tasha. My family's dog of 12 years, Tasha, had to go on to the next life yesterday. There are times in life when you know you've met someone special and will remember the lessons they taught you forever. Tasha is that "someone" for me, my family and many others she greeted with a wag of her tail and request to pat her big rump. Her eyes were alive with her spirit and I swear she could speak to you with just a look. She loved all she met and cared for the other animals and her humans in the house. Tasha cuddled better than most men (sorry, Ryan), gave unconditional attention to those who asked and provided warmth and comfort when days were tough.

I am committed to having a dog like her one day so my own kids can enjoy and love a dog unconditionally and know the feeling will be returned. I won't replace Tasha, but I do hope to carry on her legacy by loving dogs and all they give us. No matter what coast you live on or country for that matter, some things never change -- the love people have for animals.

RIP Tasha "Tashi" - November 2000 - March 2013

Young and Spry

Little Old Lady

Face to the Wind

You Wore What?!

“You always look so fashionable,” my boss said. I looked around to make sure she was in fact talking to me and then responded, "hahahahahaha." 

"Ummm, I am pretty sure I'm not fashionable,” I continued, “and this sweater I am wearing, my mom picked it out. The outfit yesterday -- my husband helped me put it together.”

Fashion has never been my friend; maybe more of my frenemy since I look at shopping as a hassle and can never figure out what piece of jewelry to wear with each outfit. If I am going to be completely honest, then I'll admit that wearing gym clothes every day would be perfectly fine with me, but that wouldn't work in Boston.

The East Coast spouts more fashionistas in one block than the entire Washington suburb I lived in. Even at my office, which is full of engineers and women typically older than 40, I am usually the one lacking in the outfit of the hour. Around the city, being fashionable is kind of a must. Even my West Coast friends know that the East Coast has more fashion sense, but no one told me that when I moved.

I think I am the only one who doesn't wear a puffy jacket with a faux paux fur trim hood; I didn't know what trouser socks were until my truly fashionable Bostonian friend Erin let me in on this secret; I thought scarves were meant to wear with jackets to stay warm outside, apparently not; I can't figure out how to pair big jewelry with my outfit (and always wince in pain at the price tag of the shinny accessory); I learned I should never wear my tennis shoes around town – only tall boots, only tall boots, need I say it again – only tall boots.

With this said, the East Coast has been an enabler of sorts and I have succumbed to some of the more popular styles, while pushing back on others –- I will not look like every other girl on the street – that is my standard. Fit in socially but don't blend in too much. 

Lastly, I found this little gem that I thought would add some color to this post. :) 

Change and Life Go Hand in Hand

In the past two-and-a-half years, Ryan and I have experienced our fair share of change. The word "change" -- the act or instance of making or becoming different; to transform or convert --- is cycling through my mind like an unstoppable force lately thanks to a recent change at work. How much change can one person go through and accept before fighting back or is accepting change the answer? 

My life as well as Ryan's has been transformed by the following events, some unforeseen and others planned:

1. Ryan and I got engaged
2. My dad lost his job
3. Ryan's grandma and grandpa passed away two weeks apart
4. My dad went to rehab for alcoholism
5. Ryan's step dad was diagnosed with cancer
6. My parents filed for divorce
7. My dad got in a car accident
8. Ryan and I got married
9. My parents divorce was final
10. Ryan and I moved to Boston
11. Ryan and I got new jobs
12. Ryan's step dad and my now father in law died from cancer
13. I got pregnant on accident
14. I had a miscarriage
15. My job was changed at work without my consent - not huge but a topper to all else in my mind

In essence, I guess I am searching for some sort of stability or reason for change. Is it coincidental that I am working for a company that has organizational changes every few months and lays-off people like a snake shedding old skin?

What I am starting to embrace, but always knew as others do, is that change is just a part of life. It brings happiness, learning opportunities, a chance to join the Boston clan and say "fuck", a time to cry, a reason to have a glass of wine, an excuse to go to your favorite restaurant, or a perfect way to change life for the better if you dare.

Ryan and I did take a dare by moving to Boston and changing our lives, and even among the heartache we've experienced with change while living on the East Coast, we've been given the opportunity to create new experiences for ourselves here, to transform the "West Coast" way our minds think and to embrace what is truly a different way of living on the East Coast.

Like so.

"Can we really just put our Christmas tree on the street for the garbage guys to pick up?" Ryan asked.

"According to the Public Works department, yes," I responded.

You know the holidays are over when you see x-Christmas trees lining the sidewalk of the busiest street in Boston - Massachusetts Avenue.

So in closing, although the last two-and-a-half years have been full of ups and downs, I am accepting change as part of life since the two truly do go hand in hand. You can't have one without the other.

Boston Locusts Are Among Us

Have you seen the locusts in Boston? I never knew they existed in cities until I came to the New England area; however, the locusts seem to feed and breed in Boston - their home base. I can't say I see them often, but I know exactly where they've been. Similar to how their cousins fly over crops and devour all they see, the Boston locusts take to the streets in swarms and leave their mark, orange tickets, on several parked cars.

The Boston locusts have also evolved more than their smaller more agile cousins. In the city, they take the shape of a parking enforcement officer. Yes, 5'5 - 6'2, sometimes male, other times female, and always donned in dark blue attire. These mercurial insects transform when they see a car missing its parking permit, another car stationed in a visitor's spot a minute longer than it should be or an innocent Mazda parked a tad too close to a fire hydrant. Orange tickets ensue. I was said victim parked too close to the fire hydrant and I have been wounded with the orange ticket of pain. But Ryan, my poor husband, has been the victim of the Boston locusts attack on several occasions - his Volvo's smell must attract the swarm. If you plan to visit Boston, beware of the mutant locusts; they are all around us.

While I am unaware of locusts of this nature in Seattle, I do know the Boston locusts breed quickly and will soon outgrow their territory. 

"Locusts are sometimes solitary insects with lifestyles much like grasshoppers. But locusts have another behavioral phase called the gregarious phase. When environmental conditions produce many green plants and promote breeding, locusts can congregate into thick, mobile, ravenous swarms." 

"The Boston locusts walk the streets as solitary insects, looking for prey and ticketing their victims. In many instances; however, the locusts swarm the streets, especially during the weekend phase. When city conditions produce many illegal parkers and promote ticketing heaven, Boston locusts can congregate into thick, mobile, ravenous swarms."

Getting Used to Different

When I first moved to Boston last January, I was consumed with how different life was on the East Coast. I basically thought people on the East Coast did and said everything wrong.

• Why would you add "r" to the end of idea?
• Who calls pop ... soda?
• Why does everyone jaywalk in front of moving cars expecting the cars to stop?
• Do all checkers at the grocery store ignore their customers?
• Why do waiters give me water only after I place my order?
• Where is the salt and pepper on the tables at restaurants?
• Why do so many people throw their trash on the street without a care?
• What's with everyone feeling like they are entitled to more?
• How many times do I have to hear someone tell me they went to a really good university as if it's the best school in the U.S.?
• Do I always need to wear rainboots when it rains?
• Why do people swear so much more here?

Of course, those were only a few of the things I found weird and wrong on the East Coast during my first six months living in this "new world". Now having lived in Boston for almost a year, I have the following confessions to make.

• I am used to hearing the letter "r" added or removed from words. It's natural - who wouldn't say "Foward" in place of "Forward". Idea"r" still gets to me, but it doesn't sound weird anymore.
• I LOVE jay walking; it's much more effiecient than waiting for the crosswalk signal to give me the OK to go
• Why would checkers be extra nice to me like on the West Coast. It's not like they get tips.
• Not all people drink water like a fish as I do, so OK, I can wait for water or ask for it. I shouldn't expect it.
• Salt and pepper shouldn't be on the table when I'm eating out. Resturants in New England are keeping me healthier.
• People are entitled because they've been here the longest - seriously, it is called New England for a reason.
• I always tell everyone that the journalism program at my college was one of the best on the West Coast - I had to join in with the others and brag about my college.
• Yes, why wouldn't I wear rainboots. Seattlelites are crazy for not wearing them more often.
• Fuck is my new favorite word.

Hence, I have become an East Coaster  - I swear, I jaywalk, I say "suore" (my pronunciation of some words are changing) and I only say pop occasionaly now.

What have I learned? "Different" isn't wrong, it's simply a new way of doing things. I've basically learned that my "normal" way of living on the West Coast is not the "normal" on the East Coast and, you know what, I'm OK with it and have emabraced the "new normal" on the East Coast.

I'll end with a quote as usual. :)

Me: "I can get the pop for the party."
My Boss: blank stare
Me: blank stare back - What part of the sentence does she not understand?
My Boss: blank stare
Me: "Oh, I mean soda."
My Boss: "Who says pop?" hahaha