my dearest amsterdam, how i have fallen in love

Why I absolutely L O V E amsterdam in P H O T O S.

and may very well choose to live there some day for part of ma vie.

the flea markets stuffed with souvenirs and clothes and hats and flashing glasses and wooden dutch shoes and antiques and any other junk that people don't need that people like me LOVE to buy.

over 2,000 people live on houseboats in the canals of amsterdam.  if i've never heard of a sweet lifestyle i have now.  maybe someday i will return and work at anthropologie as their art director and live in a houseboat and learn how to winterize it and everything (had to throw that in there for my dad). :)

i've never seen a city with more bikes. the sidewalks stretch so wide that many, many bikers can ride side by side.  i was more afraid of being hit by a bike than a car or a tram without a doubt. (but these are friendly, cute bikers- not like the ones that we all hate on in Columbia, MO, obvi.)

art shops with brightly colored bicycles outside just like my mama's pink pineapple bike haha.

the city keeps its trees and streets lit up beautifully, even a few weeks after christmas (to-do lists move a lot slower around these parts and i can't say i mind it a bit- unless you're waiting for your dr. to treat your severe intestinal infection that is)

the canals that run throughout amsterdam make it so picturesque.  we did a boat tour throughout the city that made me feel i should be living in a city with water like beautiful amsterdam. 

the entire city feels like it was designed by anthropologie. o how i love it there.  for those that aren't familiar: anthropologie.com

flea market art fairs full of starry nights and such

the gorgeous fresh flower stands make me so happy.

my latest and most exciting discovery. yes, that's right, it's called Kitsch Kitchen and it's the coolest artsy store that I stumbled upon while trying to hit up an ATM before the Anne Frank museum, which was a moving experience btw.  before i may bring you to tears telling you about my experience there, i will share the link so everyone can enjoy Kitsch as much as I did :) http://www.kitschkitchen.nl/home/home_uk.php  

I nearly cried when I came to the end and saw a blown up picture of Anne Frank's father Otto Frank standing in the annex where they hid during World War II about 20 years after it ended.  he was the only survivor of his immediate family members.  Anne died of starvation just a week or so before her camp was freed under the impression that all of her family had died in the camps.  one woman who lived in the same camp was quoted saying that she believed Anne may have survived the terror for another week had she known her father was alive and she would be free in such a short time.

if there was anything important to take away from the museum it was this: Otto Frank's hope for people visiting the house- not just to visit to visit, but to realize that even today people in this world are being persecuted for reasons no different than the reason the Holocaust occurred during World War II, for their religions, opinions and political affiliations.  his hope was to bring young people together to change the world for the better.  and i hope it works.  

it was truly daunting to think that just 70 years ago people marched through the streets that i was walking on to tear people from their homes and take them to be murdered based on their religion.  how is that possible?  despite all of the sadness it brought, it is a truly influential reminder to everyone who visits that  that should never happen again, ever.  AND that without the braveness and of so many heroic American soldiers and soldiers around the world, so many more lives would have been on the line.  yet, at the same time we are all aware that similar things are happening every day in regions of africa and other impoverished places throughout the world.  yet we don't see it every day on the news, and we don't go to war over it.  but we do see 24-hour coverage of Paris Hilton getting out of jail?  i think we may have a problem on our hands.

enough sadness, in Amsterdam everyone is happy and smiley! even the red light district is graced with a little purity in the form of white swans traveling about in one of the many canals.

boat rides! good thing my dad forced me to get that boating license. please-kidding, my drivers license would not even qualify me to drive one of their miniature golf carts on the crazy roads here.

DESPITE being nearly thrown off the bus alone and stuck in Amsterdam solo without a single friend, I enjoyed a very beautiful and scenic bus ride home.   to explain, basically my stupid bus ticket for the ride home was taken from me by the bus people on the way there because i had printed my ticket double sided and without realizing handed my return ticket off and away upon my departure to Amsterdam.  (this is exactly why Americans don't attempt to be freaking green- last time i print double-sided ever) SO, not physically having a bus ticket to allow me to return home and trying to slip onto a bus that has no empty seats did not go over well.  i had to argue with a man who spoke little anglais for a solid 10 minutes to convince him i did belong on this bus i just got my ticket taken accidentally! he finally gave in and allowed this blonde attempting her way back into belgium to stay on his bus and not go into total panic mode- lucky for him. :)

Bonne nuit mes amis.

love this & had to share it.

okay, i had to add one more thing that i love.  but, i promise i will have a new post directly related to belgium very soon.  my mom sent me the one above, and i miss her very, very much, so i had to share in her honor. :)

i  l o v e  t h i s  s o  m u c h  t h a t  i  h a d  t o  s h a r e  i t.

Life as a sick dog.

Well... after experiencing life as a wet dog in the constant mist/rain in Belgium, I have now experienced life as a very, very sick dog laying in my bed feeling like death for the majority of the past 3 days.  And lemme tell ya, finding and getting to an english speaking doctor that you want to be sure is not a total-whack-job can prove to be a difficult task, especially for the sick.  Ha.

Now I cannot attribute this stomach/intestinal infection my body so willingly opened house for neither to the frites or the fruit, nor the faucet water or the fanta.  And quite frankly, the doc had no idea either.  And trust me, I do NOT want to experience this one again.  It snuck up on me over night and when I woke up the next morning my body was like "OH WHAT DA HELLLL???" (as my friend Emily would say).  I tried to pull myself together enough to go to work, but was sent home before noon anyways as I nearly simultaneously passed out and vomited in the middle of the cafeteria (not a joke).  Lucky for me, my work was kind enough to send me home (El Presidente Style- shout out to the Pitts') where I hiked up our lighthouse steps to the 3rd floor and fell into my bed.  And it only got better from there.  I won't go into detail but for anyone who has seen Sex & the City the movie, the scene where the girls are in Mexico and poor Charlotte accidentally sips some of their dirty water while she's in the shower, well that was basically my life for 3 days (+ 102 fever, serious dehydration, stomach ache and anything else awful).  But don't worry, I eventually arranged a doctors appointment, and pricey cab rides to and fro, with I might add cabbies who insist on speaking about American politics IN FRENCH!!!  I was like, people, please, I'm about to die in the back of your cab please stop this discussion immediately.  Next time I'm going to say I only speak Mandarin Chinese so they will get off my back!

So anyways, for any of you that are following my blog to ensure that I am alive, I am, and that's where I've been.  I don't have exciting new photos this time (unless you would like one of les toilettes, because that's where I've travelled), but I must upload this one my friend Hannah took of me at the airport.  With all of my luggage, strapped together according to my father's specific directions using bungee cords.  Hopefully this will confirm for anyone still worried about me that I have been fully prepped on every possible scenario, after all, my father is Dan Stieren.

Me likey this. Me no likey that.

Things I love about Belgium:

1. Practicing my francais with cab drivers.  They have no choice but to participate or crash the vehicle.  I'm convinced they enjoy it.

2. The delicious chocolate croissants on nearly every block. YUMMMMM.

3. You can walk everywhere you need to go.  No wonder they stay so slim eating all those frites.  Even though a 30-minute walk to the European Parliament wears and tears at feet in heeled black boots, all of the gorgeous scenery keeps you fully entertained.

Making our rounds for the evening.

4.  There must be sort of baby boom going on here.  On every block we see precious Belgian babes swaddled in bright-colored hats, coats and rain boots.  Their precious french baby babble makes them even cuter.

5. One of my favorite bar's here happened to be an American one, and guess what it was called.  Fat Boys.  Not a joke, hahahha.

Precious street dogs. 

6. Ma 'hood.  Every day I look out my bedroom window to a beautiful Belgian street full of hustle and bustle.

This is the group of people that I caused to get lost from the tour.  Yes, I was responsible for separating the 5 of us without means of communication from our entire tour in the middle of a busy downtown market.  No, we never found the group and had to hike an hour on foot to get home.  And yes, I'm sure my Dad could have seen this one coming.

7.  People watching on steroids- everyone has such a different look and dress than the people in the states.

Things I miss about the land of Americanos.

1. Muscles and sweatpants.

2. Watching "The Bach" on Monday evenings.  Stupid yes, but it's my one T.V. show I watch weekly.  After a very long and trying week Hannah and I got our American fix by shoving down some MacDo (what they call it here) french fries and watching "The Bachelor" on my laptop, thank the lord for Ch131.com (aka the only way I can watch my American T.V. in europe).   :D

Des gauffres (waffles) are decked in a million pounds of deliciousness.

3. PBJs.  If I would've known it was this difficult to "do the grocery store" and learn how to cook (esp. in a foreign county), I would have looked at the airline regulations more closely to make sure they wouldn't confiscate my peanut butter as a liquid.  Since when?

4. Not having to be seated at a 2-person table when you only have 2 people.  After a long day of walking (I'm talking like 10+ miles from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m.), we didn't want to sit at a table "all up in someone's grill."  The bartender looks at us like not happenin' ladies.  I could have cried.  Personal space is oh so slim here.

5. All the people I love back in the states.

6. Sunny skies.

7. Suggested, recycling rather than mandatory sorting of every piece of trash into 3 different recycling bags. Ughhh.  Fine= 150 euros. I'd rather spend my moolah elsewhere.

Side note: I start working at my internship tomorrow.  I'll be doing public relations at SWIFT, the corporation that does all international bank transactions.  I'm so excited!

Life as a wet dog.

Well, i must say that I LOVE the belgian waffles, frites, beer, gorgeous architecture, french language and cobblestone streets, but so far i'm simply not a fan of the "wet dog" weather.  The "wet dog weather" term came about when quite frankly we began to look like- well, wet dogs.

Hamming it up at Delerium- Above you can see some beauts living the glorious wet dog lifestyle.  No need to brush (not that I would anyways), it simply mattes, frizzes and waves.  Ta da! Ken Paves should take note.

It rains here all day, every day.  The first day we spent in Belgium was a giant trick, a straight-up fast one.  It was beautiful and relatively warm and sunny.  Like I said, tricks.  Today I asked Gareth, our program coordinator how he gets his vitamin D because this weather simply does not suit.  The doctors around here must prescribe it the way Americano doctas prescribe Prozac and Adderall.

The last few days have basically consisted of seminars, presentations and orientations, during which at any given time 50% of our group is out cold because we are so exhausted and jet-lagged.    The only thing that snapped my out of my groggy-coma was my friend Keegan asking me "How much would you pay me to ask what the E.U. stands for?" during a presentation on the European Union and its history and future.

When I am awake, I truly enjoy laughing at the other kids who are drooling on their pea coats during a conference on "Climate Change: Can the E.U. and the U.S. find common ground?"  I must say this sort of thing is simply not my cup of tea, but listening to Obama's climate change correspondent Louis Bono and the E.U.'s Jos Delbeke captured my attention more than to be expected.  To sum it up, it sounds like the whole dang world is about ten times more concerned about our environment and its future than the U.S. population.  However, Bono said that the military is working diligently to find an efficient alternative fuel source because 1 Navy or Marine Corps personnel is killed during the delivery of oil for every 6 shipments of oil used in the war in Iraq.  Scary, huh?

On a lighter note, let me tell you somethin' about the damn grocery stores here.

Clad with mascara-ran makeup and lots of Belgian freezer food.  I simply can not help if je ne suis pas chef.  Don't hate.  I am no Martha Stew.

  After finally finding a spare few minutes to pick up some groceries for very necessary after-bar food or early mornings, Hannah , Keegan and I start to check out and pay for all of our food only to find out that each customer is limited to ONE freaking plastic bag for the entire purchase!  (Europe always having to show off its greenness).  Mind you, it was pouring down rain as usual and Keegan purchased enough groceries for a lifetime.  Sooo... after Keegan failed in his attempt to steal a grocery cart, we carried our very sad 3 plastic bags stuffed full of food through the streets of Brussels dropping water bottles, eggs, beer bottles, chips and toilet paper all over the streets soaking wet looking again, like wet dogs.  It was nothing short of hilarious, a scene from a movie really, and I'm quite sure that the locals enjoyed watching this scenario much more than us.  So until I have more shenanigans to share... Bonne soir!

Nous adorons "Das boot!"

At our J-school reception.  Now add to the mix: about 6 non-english speaking Afghani journalists who we were supposed to be "networking with" as well as an open bar fully stocked with wine.  I can proudly say I attempted to converse for a total of 5 seconds with one of the foreign journalists before I realized this conversation with no common language was simply going nowhere, which was my cue to hit the bottomless wine bar for another refill. Obvi.  Let me remind you all I am not a journalist and have no desire to be, ADVERTISING (they may still be manipulators, but at least you're not automatically assumed a lib.) is my thing.

First Pics!

I'm wayyyyy too tired for a new post right now (hence why I kept falling out of my chair asleep during a 3-hour presentation on the EU today), but I wanted to add some photos from my first 2 days in Belgium!

the view from my bedroom window :D

1st order of duty: belgian beer.

magical lights throughout the city.

love love love it here

paying a visit to grand place!

Can't Sleep.

Bonjour mes amours!!!

I leave for Belgium in less than 12 hours and as the french would say, "Je ne peut pas m'endormir," or "I can not fall asleep." This is what my several years of Americano french classes have taught me to believe that I am saying anyways.  Let's just hope it works out better than last time and I am actually capable of ordering an apple.  But before I depart from this Mid-Western land that I love, choc-full of friendly folk, Walmarts and "where'd you go to high school?", I must confess that I am already setting myself up for airport disaster.  Yes, that's right, this tall blonde girl will be storming through the airport full force with two 50-pound bags, one 40-pounder carry-on, and a juicy purse stuffed like a sausage.  I predict many, many falls, many stares, laughs and judgers, but I won't be crying in my soup when I have nothing to wear to the Katy Perry concert in March.  Can't wait to embark on this grand adventure while keeping all my family and friends that I love so dearly updated on all the crazy/hilarious/ridiculous things that happen to me along the way.

P.s. No, I will not share a cab with any strange foreign men who "invite blonde girl to party" on the way from the airport.  (Sigh of relief) :)

I will love and miss you all dearly.