Holland: where with the change you find in your couch, you could feed an American family

I had a recent call to post more often. I know I've been a bit lax in that regard recently. There's a reason for this: nothing happens here. I think that the exchange rate for Tilburger seconds is analogous (and converse) to the current USD-Euro exchange rate. One second anywhere else is equal to 1.519 phenomenological seconds in Tilburg. This makes for long days. Only here do I dread the weekends, for I know that I'll do nothing but sit around my apartment watching Dutch television and compulsively refreshing facebook. I love Sunday nights because it means that the weekend is nearly over. Weeknights are boring too, but they usually follow productive days, which makes for less boredom and self-loathing.

Yesterday I went to Amsterdam to work. It was productive. I sent a paper off to be considered for publication and tinkered with the dissertation. Working is much more pleasant there, as I've probably remarked in previous posts. There was a plan to go out and then stay the night there, but the plan fell through. Nevertheless, it was a good day. I've decided that I'm going to go up to Amsterdam more often to work (perhaps twice a week).

Today I finished a proposal for a postdoc here (to start Sept. 1) and I preordered the new Murder by Death CD. On the productivity scale (0-10, with 10 being most productive), I'd give it a 5. I'd rate the typical day in Amsterdam an 8 (on average, with a large SD).

All words and no pic make Reader a dull boy. So here, circa late 1998, in my college-friend Audra's dorm room, am I. Yes, my ears used to be pierced in a strange way. This was because my father told me that if I ever got my ears pierced and potential employers saw the scars on my earlobes, they'd never hire me. My solution: get the piercing where no readily visible scar would be left.