One Pizza Later

About 36 hours until I leave for Tilburg. At first I was worried that by moving to a sleepy little university town in the south, that I'd become bored and disappointed with it in relation to Amsterdam. However, after being in Amsterdam for 3 weeks and finding myself with little time other than on the weekends to do stuff (during which time I am usually bored), I'm no longer worried about that. In fact, I am sure that in many ways it will be an improvement. There'll be lots of other philosophers around and the department seems pretty lively. Also, I've already started making contacts with psychometricians there, so I'll have two possible social ponds to swim in. By request I've included a map of the Netherlands to show ya'll where Tilburg is.Matt, you'll notice the proximity to Belgium. You can bet your bottom dollar that I'm going to try to find some people with whom to explore breweries. I don't think you'd want to go anyway. All the monks are ID proponents, I think.

News: I've lost 6 pounds since getting here.

News

As Matt has noted, my recent deluge of posts has slowed to a trickle. There are various reasons for this though one of them is not that I have nothing to report. On Friday I move to Tilburg where I will reside for 3 months. Tomorrow I must vacate my flat and move across town (closer to work) because my lease at this place ends, but I cannot occupy my place in Tilburg until Friday. A professor in the department here was gracious enough to let me crash at his place for the 3 nights. I'll miss this apartment, the neighborhood, and the few people that have shared the building with me over the past 3 weeks.

Other news: today I found out that a paper of mine has been accepted for publication at a peer-reviewed journal. The reviewers, all of whom thought the paper was interesting and well-written, have called for some revisions that I think will be a bit time consuming. But if I just reserve it for weekend work, it should only take about a month to get through the revisions. Reviewer #1 was quite long-winded and I think he actually hated the letter of the paper, even if he liked its spirit. If he is correct in his complaints, then there are some major booboos that may make for a considerable overhaul. Then there is the logistical problem of finding the sources again. The main paper I discuss in my own paper is a whopping 90 pages long and I don't think that I brought it with me. It is also not available online.

In any case, when I get it done, that'll be 2 forthcoming publications that I got under my belt while I was here. Then there's the nascent paper currently in development. If that gets done and is favorably received, that'll be 3. My advisor is pushing me to publish something is a squarely philosophical journal (the other journals are psychology and measurement journals). I have something I can send out as soon as I get his comments. If *that* works out too, then we'll be at 4. If I can't get a job with 2-4 publications, then I give up. Back to McDonald's or Subway for me.

No pictures for this post, unfortunately.

Reckless Indulgence

The plastic bag crinkles like white noise as I unfold the clear polymer bag. 8 small chocolate nuggets sit inert, each more curious than the last, for I know that I will be days before I experience the one that remains after all others have been consumed. My gaze fixes on those nearest to me, and I carefully contemplate my selection. None so obviously bears its character, so my decision is but arbitrary. I suspect that jasmine tea sits closest to me, so I with great care and purpose bypass it searching for serendipity, an arbitrary surprising pleasure that will take great care to discern. I also see what I perhaps erroneously infer to be olive and I dig a bit deeper into the bag, noisily complaining, as I search for an unfamiliar morsel. And my choice is made. As I carefully ingest its smell, I can detect only cocoa. An awaiting surprise indeed. The crystalline formations on its crown I recall being salt, but all is an enigma. The first bite. Wow. The salt a perfect compliment to the bitterness of the dark chocolate. A creamy filling resides inside and, honestly, I make neither heads nor tails of what I taste. With disappointment in my ability to identify the overwhelming flavor, I describe it as neither here nor there. It is so subtle as to evade analysis, despite my efforts to cleanse my palate and ready myself for this encounter. Desperate to lift the fog of disorientation, I lift the chocolate to my mouth and take the remainder in hopes that full sensorial inundation will remedy my sorry state. Again, the salt pleasantly resounds on my tongue, but I still cannot make out what I am tasting. Frantically I rub my tongue over the roof of my mouth before the flavor fades, and as it flees existence I'm left unenlightened. My pleasure is empty. Moments of bliss, ephemeral and base. Awash in regret, I contemplate indulging once again.

There's no rain

I've come to realize that clear days are a celebratory occasion here in Amsterdam. Therefore, I have chosen to celebrate today as the first clear day in over a week. In observance of "first clear day in over a week" I have procured several delightful goodies. On the way home I had the quinessential Dutch snack, the Haring Broodje. It is a sandwich with raw herring and onions. There are places all over town that sell these yummy yums. Bones are left intact, but they are small and easily consumed. At 3.50 euros, they are a bit pricey, however. Without bread (just raw fish and onions) it is 3.00 euros. Unfortunately the sandwich is not pictured. It is in a warm dark place right now. I also picked up a mini baguette to go with dinner tonight, 2 celebratory Jupiler beers (which I now realize I've been calling 'Jupiter' since my first visit last March). Last, but not least, I picked up some chocolates from the legendary "Unlimited Delicious" chocoshop. I'll write more about them once I've tasted them, but the flavors include hot-chocolate and pepper, olive, jasmine tea, espresso, rosemary, ginger, among others. 100 grams for 5 euros. I'm sure it is worth it considering they gave me a taste of the hot-chocolate pepper and it was divine. Tomorrow's forecast: rain.

Not funny, Basty

Today I found this picture on the internet with the following letter below:

Dear Daddy #1 (or #2)

We have your beloved Basty. If you want to see or smell him alive again, you will send 170 jars of peanut butter, 3 bunnies, and 5...monies to the following address

Florida Apartment
Florida, USA

Failure to comply will result in many baths and scary times and other unpleasantness. You are a bad daddy, number 1.

P.S. I...I mean Basty stinks.

First, Sebastian, I just want to say that this is not funny. Aside from what excessive peanut butter does to your teeth (and, hence, breath), and your overall incompetence in dealing with small furry critters (which only you refer to as 'bunnies'), the attempted ruse is in poor taste. Last time I checked, extortion was still a crime. Why can't you just send me a nice email to tell me how you are in your subtropical paradise? Not even a 'hello' from you in the past month. At least you haven't forgotten about me altogether. Anyway, you need to mind Temprorary Daddy #3 and stay off his computer.

One of my favorite things...

is not waiting for a bus that is no less than 45 minutes late.
However, one of my favorite things is one of my few selfish rituals I have here. I love stopping by one of the neighborhood bakeries on my way home from work every day to pick up fresh bread to go with dinner. I also got some unpasturized French cheese that I can't wait to dig into.

Who needs friends when you have a fresh loaf of bread?

Me: Hello, Mr. Bread, how are you?

MB: Hi there B, how was your day at work?

Me: Oh, Mr. Bread, you know...same as always, just trying to make the world a better place for Basty.

MB: Well, sir, what will you do tonight? I noticed that yesterday you took the tiny Baguette Twins home. Are they around? Perhaps we could all watch television and recount the events of the day.

Me: I'm afraid the Baguette Twins are not around tonight.

MB: Oh yeah?

Me: 'Fraid so.

MB: Hey, I read on Facebook that you were wanting to go see "Control" this weekend at The Movies down the street.

Me: Yup.

MB: Perhaps we could go together! I love Joy Division.

Me: I'm afraid I have other plans for you, Mr. Bread.

MB: Oh yeah! Fun! What's that?

Me: I'm going to smear unpasturized goat cheese on you and...

MB: Oh wow! You read my very thoughts, B! Let's put on some Barry White and get down to business!

Me: and eat you like the stinking loaf you are!

MB: Oh no! :( But why?! I thought you were adopting me...oh no! The Twins! What Have you done with the twins? You sick bastard!

B: First I put them in the microwave to make them nice and chewy...

MB: Oh god...

B: and then I gobbled them up!

MB: B, what are you doing? Put me down! Oh no! My spleen! You've eaten my spleen! Oh jesus, I'm getting woozy. World fading...can't keep...my eyes...OH GOD! YOU"VE EATEN MY HEEL!!!! Oh please help me! Please, anyone? I know you all speak English out there! Fading...fading...oh what a world, what a world.

Matt, your wish is my command

Matthew, as requested, I have provided pictures of my workplace. All these were taken today, so you can get an idea of how quickly the weather changes. At 11, the skies were mostly clear and we were approaching the high of 48 degrees, but by the time I took the later pictures around 13:00, the temperature had dropped and it was cloudy. It was raining steadily by the time I left the office at 16:00.

The cafe, Kriterion, is run by psychology students mostly. It is a good place to go for a cup of coffee or beer and is usually packed with students. The building where I work houses psychology and (I think) economics (perhaps sociology too). The campus is pretty spread out all over the city, so you don't get a campus feel. There is a restaurant next door called The Roeter that is not bad. I haven't been there since coming back, but it is a cool place to hang out after Kriterion closes. I once had drinks with Keelan there.

I share my office with 3 people, but usually there are only 2 of us in there. I would have snapped a photo of them, but they were not around much today. You can see the mess that is my desk with my laptop. Taking pictures was an excuse for getting away from the paper that I'm writing.

Today I got a postcard from China (not pictured (neither China nor the postcard)). It was nice to get a little mail, espcially from such a good friend. She's the postcard queen. I hadn't received any post from her in a while, so it was a nice surprise to find when I got home.

So, here I am home by 15:00 and little to do. I suppose it is time to get back to work.

I'm feeling much better

Today started off no better than last night ended. My right eye was still watering uncontrollably, I was congested (runny right nostril), and I was foggy headed. I didn' get to bed until around 3 a.m. on account of my discomfort, though I did manage to read quite a bit of my Shostakovich biography. I was up at 8:30, reluctantly. Even for the first half of the day I felt pretty miserable sitting in my office trying to comprehend bifactor, higher order factor models, and measurement invariance. My mind was in the fog, and I'm sure what work I did do was equally clear. However, I stepped out for some fresh air and ate a delicious sammich, and I'll be a cow's mitten if I didn't start feeling better. On my way back up to my office I ran into Denny and a visiting philosopher of science. We decided to head across the street for a coffee and by the end of the coffee I still wasn't at 100%, but things had improved markedly. Afterward, I went to a Psychology Department celebration where awards were distributed and all the presentations were in Dutch. I didn't mind. After all, they had a marvelous spread unlike anything I had seen. For sake of my health, I stuck to mineral water and filled my belly with delightful snacks which were not limited to sushi and strange fried ball with meat and cheese inside. After Denny received his award and left, I kind of felt like an idiot just standing around freeloading amongst all the Dutchytalk, so I decided to head home. Just my luck, however, that once I got to Central Station on the metro, I could not find the bus to take me home. Hence, I walked for about 15 minutes in the cold rain and wind. So we'll see if I relapse.

Basty, I haven't forgotten about you!

Sick

Finally exhaustion, undernourishment, and sharing an office with a sick girl has taken its toll. I'm sick. Nothing serious, just an annoying cold that is making eyes water, making me sneeze, keeping me up at night, and giving me congestion with a runny nose. Gross. So tonight I am cooking some chicken breasts and spaghetti in hopes that a little protein will get me back on track. This weekend I am going to the coast with my pal Sanja to do some experiments on chess champions. Actually, I'll probably just sit there while she and her co-researcher, Daan, do all the work. But at least I'll get to see another part of the country.

I got about 8 pages written on a paper I'm working on, so despite my illness, I managed to be productive. Time to brush up on my linear algebra.

I feel like I'm infecting everything that I touch.

Social time

Last night I finally met some people. I think it must have been around 1 am when I finally grew sick of watching Dutch television and listening to the neighbors having such a good time. I went out on the balcony and before too long a girl came out of the unit which shares the balcony and asked me who I was. She insisted that I come inside to her place and have a drink. I entered her place and there were 4 girls: a Belgian, Parisian, Norwegian, and my hostess, a Swiss. The Norwegian was exceptionally tall. My hostess, Jackie, was very friendly and we had a fairly long debate about who was worse, Hitler or Stalin. I stayed over until about 3 a.m. As I was leaving, Jackie invited me to go with her and a Dutch friend of hers to the Rembrandt museum. Now, I don't care much for Rembrandt or museums for that matter, but I've been so starved for social interaction, that I'd go just about anywhere as long as I don't have to go alone. Unfortunately, again I slept until nearly 14:00, the time at which I would have had to meet Jackie. She knocked on my door and I had to decline, regretfully.

First Saturday in Amsterdam

Today I slept until 2, I mean, 14:00. This pissed me off because I had hoped to spend the whole day walking the city, and by 14:00 only about 2.5 hours of light are left. It exacerbated my irritation when I stepped out on my balcony to find that it was a clear day and not too cold. I took a hurried shower, dressed, and headed out the door. Plans for the day included dining at 1870, which is my favorite restaurant here.

I repeatedly found myself lost today in the city center. The streets often change names for no apparent reason, and all the cross streets look the same. Also, the Garmin GPS navigator that my father bought me for christmas does not work well in the city center because the density of buildings does not allow for good satellite reception. The walk was nice however. I especially enjoyed stumbling upon what seemed to be an exceptionally hospitable part of town. Most of the ladies I encountered as I walked down the street were super friendly and tried to get my attention so that they could talk with me. I can only guess that they saw that I was a foreigner and wanted to find out where I was from, what brings me to Amsterdam, and probably also to see if I'd like to join them for a cup of coffee. Since I've had almost no social encounters in Amsterdam, I was happy to get so much attention, but by this time of day I was set on finding 1870 amid the maze of narrow cross streets and canals. So I did not get to stop and talk to these nice ladies. After all, they were hardly dressed appropriately to come out of their rooms for a chat. What a free place this is where women can sit in their windows in lingerie and feel completely comfortable.

Finding 1870 was a debacle. I found myself in the same places time and again, unable to locate Spuistraat, the street where the restaurant was located. Finally I found it, realizing that I had basically walked around it several times during the day. But at this point it was only 5, I mean, 17:00, so I kept walking until I got to a cafe. There I had two cups of coffee and sat for about an hour. Then it was time. I made my way back down the street to 1870. 1870 is a place where you can find good, hearty, cheap eats. It is also a place that serves traditional Dutch food, which I happen to like. The restaurant used to be a place where mostly poor people would come, something like a soup kitchen (1870 is actually down the street from another restaurant called Soup Kitchen). I sat and the same husky Dutch lady that waited on me last time served me this time as well. Her demeanor was less brusque this time and she might have even smiled. She read off the specials, but I knew exactly what I wanted: Stamppot, a traditional Dutch dish consisting of either smoked sausage or a giant meatball (I opt for the latter), mashed potatoes with cabbage folded into them, and a delicious and rich gravy with little chunks of pork in it to add just the right amount of saltiness. This dish is 7.50 euros and fills you up quite nicely. It is perfect for a chilly day. I finished my meal and headed home, stopping at the local grocery store for a latenight snack, some mineral water, and some wine. I had hope to stop at the cheese shop near my place for some unpasturized camenbert, but they were closed. So much for wine and cheese night. Wine, water, and focaccia in hand, I walked home.

It was a good day.

Balcony view

Here are a couple pictures taken from my upstairs balcony.

Teaser

Okay, Matt. You wanted some pictures of my place. I still have not been in the kitchen, so you'll have to wait for that. It is dark, so I don't want to be flashing shots outside, but tomorrow I will go out on my balcony and snap a few. One downside: the previous tenants did not do a good job of cleaning the bathroom. There are whiskers in the sink and, like most Dutch bathrooms I've been in, it smells something foul. The treats on the desk are dinner tonight: cheese sandwich and indonesian sandwich (which smells like Sebastian, but doesn't taste nearly as good as you might think). I love how Spartan the place is. It makes me want to take on an ancient Persian army and become a logical positivist.

Note to self: pack more economically. I don't need all these effin' clothes and the suitcases were a bitch to haul around town. 15 euros for a 1.5 mile cab ride is ridiculous.

Oh, and a shout out to my bros at the airline industry who broke one of my suitcases! That'll make it extra easy to get all this crap back home.

Arg

My day has been pretty awesome. After checking in for my flight, going through security, yadda yadda, I went to the gate to get my seat assignment for my direct flight to Amsterdam. Mind you, I did have a confirmed seat on this flight until I attempted to check in this morning. I wait in line for an hour until a representative shows up at the gate. I'm informed that my seat has been volunteered. Apparently the flight before mine has some mechanical issues so they put all those people on my flight and selectively bumped people who has reservations already. A queer practice. Typically when the airline screws up in this way, they call for volunteers. The next direct flight was full, so I had no choice but to take the following route the following day:

Houston > Newark
Newark > Birmingham
Birmingham > Amsterdam

To make matters worse, once I am in Birmingham, I have to check in all over again. This is going to be problematic seeing as I have 3 bags each weighing around 50 pounds. Getting them around this dodgy hotel was difficult enough. Which reminds, me: when I got done with customer service, I was instructed to pick up my bags at carousel 11. I waited for 2 hours before going to the baggage service office. Apparently, no one had sent down my bags. They were just sitting back at the gate. I waited a bit longer and finally they brought them too me (or, rather, pointed in the general direction of where I could pick them up). They did not offer to help me with them despite my protests that they were too many and heavy for one person. I was instructed to get a "skycap", which I could not afford since I had already changed my money into Euros (naively thinking that I would not need dollars after having passed through security). Thus, I had to manage the bags myself, which was a difficult task. And of course I am in winter gear since I thought the next time I would be outside, it would be 35 degrees; however, this is Houston, so I was slowly pushing this bags around dressed in a pea coat and long sleeves.

So, what do I get for my troubles? I get a $500 voucher to fly on this irresponsible airline again and a couple meals.

Getting things in order

Things to do before going to the Netherlands:

1. Get an Apostille to prove that I am really an American (because a passport, for some reason, is not enough).

2. Buy health insurance. 4 Months of health insurance in the Netherlands is $193.43; 4 months of health insurance in America through IU's provider is nearly $900.

3. Cancel Car Insurance.

4. Cancel electricity at my old place (should have done this one 2 weeks ago).

Baltimore went well. I should know something in a couple weeks; however, it looks like I will probably be back in Bloomington next year. Anyone need a roommate?

Houston has been relaxing, but a little boring. Great food and wine. I miss my Basty.