First of all, a brief plug: If you want to know what's going on when I stop writing for days and days (and weeks), I'd recommend joining the notify list. Since ftp access is somewhat less available to me than email is this summer, I tend to madly type off a short update (which typically contains an empty promise about posting "six entries! soon! I promise!), or even just a few random thoughts, once a week or so.

Yesterday brought the end of my summer course and, along with it, the end of a very un-fun several weeks. Since my final exam ended at 11 am, I've rapidly switched my schedule from one where reading/studying fills all non-work time, to one where going totally insane about my impending trip to Europe (What the heck is she talking about?) fills all non-work time. Naturally, this is much more fun than a dry theory class.

The "big stuff" of the trip is mostly taken care of: the study away program arranged the plane tickets, I've planned my tentative itinerary, and I know which Eurail pass I need to get. The details, however, are what keep me up at night: I need to get a hostelling card, get new insoles for a pair of shoes, contact a friend with whom I think I can meet up while travelling, contact my german host family of four years ago, figure out traveller's checks, get more guidebooks, buy gifts for my host family, figure out what to pack, assemble an address book, and on and on and on. (No, I didn't expect you to read all that) I literally lie awake at night thinking about this stuff, and the worst dream I had in months was a scenario where I realized I was leaving the next day and had to borrow a suitcase from one of my housemates and pack in a matter of hours.

Aside from all that, the fates seem to have decided that my life ought to be a surrealist film. A few examples:

• The other day, I was walking down a small, deserted, one-way cross street (practically an alley) in the quiet neigborhood near my house. The sidewalk was narrow and lush summer foliage draped heavily overhead, making the street the most comfortable place to walk when loaded with groceries (as I was). Suddenly, an eighteen-wheeler swung around the corner and rumbled down the street on which I walked, filling the width of it. Of course I was able to jump out of the way, but I was left with the feeling that I had hallucinated the whole thing- it's not every day that a semi chugs down a 15-foot-wide street, and no one else had witnessed it but I.
• I was on my way to the video store the other night, engaged in my own world and leaving my eyes sort of unfocused, and I became aware that I was about to pass a man heading the other direction. Upon encountering someone while walking, I usually pick between smiling at and making eye contact with the person, or remaining detached and averting my gaze. This time I picked the latter and kept to myself. As I passed him, the man managed to catch my eye, tipped his hat and said, totally out of the blue, "nice outfit." I was caught off guard- offhand compliments on my taste in fashion from passing strangers are none too common. I managed a half-smile to him, and walked on, amused.
• Monday, while transferring buses at a not-so-savory intersection:
  Man on the corner, in broken English, as I pass him: "Can I talk to you?"
  Me: I ignore him, as I do most strange men who address me.
  Man on the corner, broken English, more demanding: "Hey! Can I talk to you?"
  Me, stopping: "Well, uh, sure" (I felt kind of bad for ignoring him; maybe he just needed directions)
  Man on the corner: "I am _____. What is your name?"
  Me, totally bewildered: "I'm Kristin, nice to meet you."
  Man on the corner: "Waiting for the bus?"
  Me: "Yep."
  Man: "Can I talk to you?"
  Me: "Uh, yes."
  Man: "Maybe I could get your number and call another time?"
  Me: "No."
  Man: "I want to talk to you."
  Me: "O-kay..."
  Man: "I could maybe just call if you give me your number."
  Me: "No."

Yeah, yeah, I know none of those are terribly bizarre, but when enough of those kinds of things happen within a four-day period, the world starts to look a little askew.

(I don't recall just how much I've talked about this- for the uninitiated, I'm spending first semester of the upcoming school year in Amsterdam, followed by 2 weeks of travel. All in all, four months of unmitigated non-America bliss.) Alright now, where were we?

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