Timing is everything. Probably should have started this blog at the start of my travels 8 weeks ago. But timing is for suckers who wear waterproof watches. Actually I bought my first watch in years and it’s waterproof. I still don’t wear it in the shower. I’m not convinced. I also probably bad timing starting this blog instead of doing my report on Russia and public participation. Who doesn’t love writing on Russia? Especially when you’re writing on something that doesn’t really exist in Russia.

How am I am hitting a wall. I can’t do this essay. Not for lack of ability (well maybe a little). Definitely for lack of will. Lack of respect for this rubbish subject is potentially the deciding factor. Not being at uni for almost 9 months has eroded my mad late night study skillz (that’s right I spelt it with a z that’s how gangsta I am I have a blatant disregard for spelling-so bad ass)

It’s 1.30am I have my first assignment of the semester due in 10 hours. Nowhere near finished. I took a 15 minute power nap. Thank you TAC adverts. It didn’t save my life or my essay. It just made me sleepier. Lucky I don’t have to operate heavy machinery. I don’t think a bike counts as heavy machinery. Although the sucky breaks make me feel like I’m dragging a dead hippo behind me everytime I have to break so maybe not too dissimilar from heavy machinery. Add that to my inability to adjust to life in the opposite side of the bike lane and I’m a road disaster waiting to happen. Check that I am a road disaster. My bike crash is up to 3. Dutch people really don’t like it when you crash into them. I don’t think that is a typical Dutch characteristic I think most people would be pretty pissed if I rammed into your bike with my rust bucket on wheels. Not my fault my bike was stolen and now I’m rising the rubbish house spare bike with no brakes. Well actually it is.

Dutch Rule Number 1:

Never leave your bike unlocked ever. Ever. Even in your own backyard.

Thanks for the memo life rule book of Holland. So really my bike wasn’t stolen I gave it away unwillingly. Everyone at one point here will get their bike stolen. Often multiple times a year. As a result the Dutch don’t find stealing bikes particularly morally repugnant but this attitude is limited to bikes. When I “adopted” * an abandoned bike two days ago my housemates were all like “hey nice work” or “wow you’re really becoming Dutch”. But when I “borrowed” a fruit crate (they don’t have milk crates here-blow) from the supermarket for room furniture they didn’t seem so cool about it. Go figure. I’m not becoming a clepto it’s just that these two events were in short succession. Start worrying when I start hanging out with Winona.

*Wasn’t really theft it had a busted chain, two busted tires, and it hadn’t been moved in weeks (I was keeping tabs). I’m just giving it a new home and a bit of love. Ok so it still had a lock-but the lock was rusty. Ergo=abandoned.

Today I was riding my bike in the drizzle. I don’t know why but I really hate drizzle. Pouring rain. Fine. You know it’s raining and you accept you’re going to be wet. But drizzle? Just commit. Rain or don’t rain, the light spray drives me nuts. My dislike for drizzle is irrational but in line with my dislike for lukewarm. Lukewarm tea, lukewarm food and especially a lukewarm shower. Hate them. I’m told the tongue is a super self healer-bring on the scalding soup.

Yesterday I said goodbye to summer. And now I am faced with in excess of 6 months of cold. I knew this was part of the deal when I decided to move to Holland but no one told me that this place trumps England in rain stakes. I don’t even remember what rain is-thank you el Niño.  Autumn is in town and I say I love it in theory, “oh how pretty all the leaves are brown and the sky is grey” we’ll see how I go in “rain-trecht”.  FYI I live in Utrecht and that was a bad attempt at humour.

Peace out.