Turns out that mind-blowing sex is, in fact, the same in every language.
Also, a fantastic headline from a Time Out Amsterdam article on the singles scene:
“Hope Springs Nocturnal”
Month: June 2006
Amsterdam Stroll
A couple rides by on their bicycles, his hand on her back, her hand clasping his. At first we think he’s helping her up a small hill, but they continue riding that way for blocks and blocks, holding hands until they’re out of sight.
Squandered Opportunity
When you picture traveling to Europe, do you imagine daydreaming at a small cafe over cappuccinos, cigarettes, and a journal thick with creamy blank pages? Yeah, me too.
Our whole trip was like that. Except we don’t smoke. Californians are annoying that way.
Call Me Hans
On Alda’s advice, I showered very thoroughly before entering the lagoon, but ignored the posted warning that I should somehow obtain a bathing cap because the water dries your hair. By the time we left, my hair felt like a wad of wet cotton balls. Even after a shampoo, I couldn’t get a comb through it. I couldn’t even run my fingers through it. When it dried, it collapsed flat against my scalp, creating a flattering German schoolboy effect.
I managed to yank it up into a ponytail the next day, and when I removed the rubber band that night, my hair just stayed exactly where it was, piled atop my head.
Three pointless hot-oil treatments later, I was beginning to think I might have to Sinead it. I felt greasy and scratchy and irritable. Bryan convinced me not to shave my head and this morning, three days later, it has finally begun to regain flexibility. Who knows what’s living in there by now.
Blue Lagoon
We just left Iceland, home of crystalline light, inexplicably tasty licorice, and the dreamlike Blue Lagoon. On the day we visited, the water was white-blue and iridescent, like the inside of an abalone shell. It’s warmer than a bathtub, and the steam is a dense fog between you and the people around you.
The salty water makes it easy to float on your back and feel the cool air on your face. It’s so relaxing that you have the urge to drool. Bryan has flying dreams, but I have swimming dreams. Floating there was like living in that perfect hour just before waking, when your brain is set to Happy and you have time to sleep in.
Going, going…
Many thanks to the folks who left travel tips in the comments section. I’m so grateful, especially to Amy who has a mild case of carpal tunnel after typing in her extensive and helpful recs.
We’re currently at the San Francisco International airport waiting for our flight. We totally scored emergency evacuation seats, but they’re in row 13 (so I have mixed feelings). A couple people mentioned in comments that they’d like to meet up, but didn’t leave email addresses. If you want to hang out while we’re in Iceland or Holland, please drop me an email.
Mighty Girl 