So the whole purpose of my trip to Amsterdam was to attend my best friend's wedding which was in Bielefeld, Germany. After he and I spent two glorious nights in Amsterdam we took a train due East to Bielefeld.

The whole event was really nicely done, but them Germans sure do love their booze. The ceremony ran from noon to about 12:30 and the first round of champagne was distributed then. After champagne toasts at the city hall we all went back to the bride's house for more drinks and snacks. After about an hour of that we all got on a bus for a tour of the countryside. The bus, of course, had a bar on it.



The bus tour ended around 6:30 which left us all just enough time to dust ourselves off and get to the reception which started at 7:00.

The reception was held in a beautiful old barn--two to three hundred years old or so. The booze just kept on coming. Sometime around midnight one of the German guests decided it was time for me to taste the local schnapps. This was no fruity liqueur, this was fucking moonshine.

I believe that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I don't know exactly what happened, but I fell down, tearing a huge hole in my pants and scraping the hell out of both knees. The Germans weren't phased by this at all--they propped me in a chair and gave me water until I recovered.

During the wee hours of the party (which didn't break up until 3:30 in the morning) these photos were shot.

I'm back.



I had a really good time in Amsterdam...


More pictures to come.

Now that I'm back on top of things at work, my Amsterdam-mania seems to have settled down to a more reasonable level as well.

I've spent a lot of time looking at this web site:

AXXXTW

It's a really well-done guide to sex and drugs and Amsterdam in general. Parts of it are hilarious.

I also started reading two really good books about the city. One is just called Amsterdam by Geert Mak and it's just a straight-up history of the city from settlement down to the present.

The other is The embarrassment of riches : an interpretation of Dutch culture in the golden age by Simon Schama. It's all about how quirky Dutch culture is.

The thing that strikes me already is that Amsterdam, and the Netherlands in general, seem to be an instance of capitalism working properly. From the very beginning the people with money had to cooperate to keep the sea from destroying them all. You can't stab anyone in the back when you're building a new dike.

Can't wait.

Burnout on re-entry.

The first day back at work is always the most painful, so I should just get over myself and not let it all bring me down.

The good news is that two weeks from today I will be cavorting in Amsterdam with my bestest friend.

Keep those eyes on the prize.

The prize being space cake and beer.

Hung over in my Chicago hotel room this morning. I'm blowing off my official library business to suffer silently and pray for the baby Jesus to deliver me from this agony.

But I'm also in that weird hangover zone where I have a lot of energy--if I had someone here to talk to I'd be babbling my head off. I want to clean the whole room. I want to unpack and re-pack all my gear. I want to consume shelf after shelf of books then explain them to everyone. I want to get to work on so many projects I've put off.

So I guess I'm in a good mood, despite the pounding in my head.

Here's one from St. Louis:

And I'm sitting, sitting on the top of the stairs,
and you're crying out on the towpath by the river
with all the swans and all the people walking by.

And all of a sudden I'm stuck with an urge to unlock a door
with a key that's too big for my hands
and I drop it, and it falls at your feet.

Come on, come on, it's there at your feet.
And I never, no I never ever realised.
And I never, no I never ever realised.

My travels have been fun so far--it was weird leaving NY so early that there was hardly any traffic. Then the airport seemed abandoned and my flight to St. Louis was almost empty. Seriously, there were maybe 25-30 people on a plane built for closer to 150-200 people.

I rode the metrolink into town and I was all alone for much of the ride. Then I emerged into the Union Station complex--it's a giant horrid mall, but I've decided to embrace the mall experience. I ate lunch with a friend at the Hard Rock Cafe and we're thinking of having dinner at Hooters.

After the wine and cheese, of course.

After wallowing in middle America we took a break and paid a visit to the relatively new
Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis where we saw some excellent stuff in a nice setting.

Has anyone ever seen any work by Ruby Osorio? She's an LA-based artist whose work reminds me of Henry Darger. I bought a little book of hers that I'm going to save for when I stumble home tonight to my room of my own.

That's the key to conference survival--a room of one's own.

How about an update?

It's been annoyingly hot for too long--June is supposed to be the best month in NY. That's made me irritable and conky, but otherwise things are good.

I mean, stuff like this happens:



So that's fun.

Taking off for librarian conferences in St. Louis and Chicago next Tuesday. That will be a super fun time since I'm not responsible for anything this year. Just loads of wine and cheese with friends in different cities. Should be a gas.

Still grooving to the S-K and I just acquired the six cd box set of all 24 Peel Sessions by The Fall. SEVEN HOURS of listening pleasure.

It's a long story, but the short version is I was too messed up to venture out into the night on my own last night.

Still, I was able to entertain myself and have added some pics to my SB Set folder.

I think this one came out pretty well, and you can tell I'm maybe a little too baked to leave home.