On Thursday evening, I had tickets to an advance screening of the movie at the AMC Times Square theater. I got there over an hour early since I imagined there would be a line. Boy, was I right. The theater (there was only one reserved for this purpose?!) hit capacity long before I got in and there were still hundreds of people behind me. The issue of overbooking the theater by hundreds of people is something to be discussed in itself, but it didn’t really bother me all that much. I was in good company and we decided it’s probably better to live sex and the city rather than watching it on the big screen. We ended up going for food and drinks at HK. Sexy, sexy.

Anyway, it got me thinking about the fact that there have been countless premieres and advance screenings and parties in honor of this movie. Excuse me, hit HBO show turned movie. The hype has gotten unreal. Even my friend that lives in Corona, California (pretty small town) sent me a text saying there was a huge premiere for it with ladies everywhere decked out in pink feather boas. The hype has become huge. Bigger than big, if you will (pun intended).

Last night I downloaded the soundtrack because I had previously visited the official website of the movie and loved the music playing on it, but couldn’t find the tracks. The song I had noticed more than the others was India.Arie’s version of The Heart of the Matter. When I saw the track list I was quite pleased that it was her as it’s such a lovely version of the song and I’ve always been a fan of the soulful singer. In fact, the whole album is quite sweet from the nostalgic collaboration of Al Green and Joss Stone on How Can You Mend a Broken Heart to The Bird and the Bee’s light and airy vocals on How Deep is Your Love to Run-D.M.C.’s version of Walk This Way to the touching love song Kissing by Bliss (I could go on - I’ve even come around to Fergie’s talk of Manolo’s). After listening to the album on repeat 3 or 4 times, I decided that I needed to go see how these songs played out while the fantastic four ran around NYC trying to figure out their lives. After all, my DVD’s aren’t worn out for nothing. These girls are my friends and I want to go see how the last 4 years of their lives have been.

This morning I got up and put the album on again while I got ready to head out. There were shows pretty much every hour so I figured I’d be able to find one that wasn’t sold out without buying a ticket online. Well that was most certainly a dumb ass decision. I showed up to the theater on 3rd ave in the East Village and every single show was sold out until 11:30pm. Again, I wasn’t all that flustered since I probably should have known better.

But it got me thinking about how the craze surrounding the flick has spun it into a huge blockbuster-sized film. Why is it so big? I mean, it was a hit TV show, but still, in essence, a TV show. And then I realized that it’s really quite simple. It’s because it was an extraordinary TV show that broke boundaries and the hype is reflecting that significance. It was always relatable, but without ever going over the top. You could understand what they felt and what they were going through. The situations weren’t out there, they always hit close to home.

Walking down St. Mark’s Place on my way to the theater I passed by St. Mark’s Comics which always reminds me of the episode Hot Child in the City (yes, I know the episode name off the top of my head) when Carrie goes to get her shoes fixed and finds a cute younger man has replaced the shoe repair shop with a comic book store. Every time I walk by there I crane my neck to see if there are any cute boys in there. You see the impact this show has on people?!

Since I haven’t seen the movie (though I have seriously tried), I don’t know what happens. But seeing as it’s become this huge thing, it seems like what is called for is a blockbuster-sized storyline. If it’s not, the masses may come away disappointed because the movie wasn’t earth-shattering. However, the show was never really that out there. It was life. Maybe extravagantly dressed life, but the fashion came second to the relationships.

The point I’m trying to make is that if the movie is some crazy tragic story, then it becomes unrelatable and thus loses the thread of greatness that weaved the show together so well. I’m not really sure what to expect other than seeing the girls parading down 5th ave decked out in some expensive labels, but I hope it stays true to it’s roots: a smart show (movie) with thoughtful points made on life and love.

And so, while I wait for the crowds to die down, I’ll be out in living my life in this fabulous city. In fact, I’m going to be late to meet friends because I’ve been sitting here typing instead of living. And on that note, I’m out.

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The day I went to Kaukenhof was definitely an interesting one. Just figuring out how to get tickets was an adventure in itself. After going to the tourist information office near the Central Station to buy a combo ticket for transportation and entrance to the gardens, taking a number, and realizing there were a couple of hundred people ahead of me, I decided I should just go into the train station to ask someone how to get there. I didn’t have time to wait in line for hours. I needed to go see some tulips!!

At the train station, a very nice man (love the Dutch!) handed me a slip of paper with directions. I took a look at it, looked at it pretty hard, and thought, “I don’t think this is how you are supposed to get there.” Trusting that the person who works there probably knows better than some stupid American traveler, I went to investigate the situation. I went to one of those handy ticket machines, put in all the info, and realized it was going to be more expensive to go this way than it had been to buy the combo ticket at the tourist office.

Back to the tourist office I go. Fortunately I had saved my number so I was about 50 people closer. 2 hours later I get to the counter and it takes about 3 and a half minutes to get my business done. This is where it got confusing. There are two ways to get there: 1. either take a bus from uptown Amsterdam to the airport and then transfer to another bus or 2. take the train to the airport and transfer to a bus. I had purchased only bus tickets and after looking at where I needed to get on bus numero uno, realized it was going to be another hour before I would even be on the road because I was on the wrong side of town. And I was directly across from the train station. What. The. Fuck.

Figuring it was probably the same bus that you transfer to, I decided to try my luck and jump on a train to the airport since they come every few minutes. Fortunately, luck was on my side and it worked out. This is when I realized the tourist office was just overcharging for having the convenience of buying the tickets together. Silly tourist office.

So I finally arrive. And it starts raining. And then it starts pouring. And I don’t have an umbrella. Why would I have an umbrella in a country where it rains every day? I decide to go get some french fries because I can smell the grease and it smells delicious and hopefully the rain will stop by the time I’m done stuffing my face. Well, everyone else had the same idea to get some fries to get out of the rain and there are people everywhere. I finally get to the front of the line and order my fries with ketchup since you have to order your condiment of choice with your fries and then they charge you for it. No stealing 800 packets of the stuff so you can avoid buying the organic stuff at the grocery store because why would you buy normal ketchup when there is ORGANIC ketchup?

The woman hands me my fries and what is on it? None of the red salty goodness to be found. They are covered in disgusting, discharge colored mayonnaise. I immediately hand them back to her and say that I had asked for ketchup. She gives me a scowl and instead of just fixing my fries since there are about 200 people behind me that would gladly take my untouched nasty mayo fries since apparently Europeans have different taste buds and think that mayonnaise on fries is delicious, has the cashier look up what she had just charged me for and then proceeds to tell me that I ordered mayo. Can I make an observation here? No, really, it’s a good one. WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE ORDER SOMETHING THAT DISGUSTS THEM????? I know that SHE doesn’t know that I hate that crap, but why would I say anything at all if that is in fact what I had wanted?

This, in turn, made me have a flashback to the Think Pink party where the customer service left something to be desired (read: bitch with a clipboard at the door). It’s been a cliché for years: the customer is always right. But it’s true! The customer IS always right. Even if they are wrong, think about the impact that a disgruntled client can have on your business. Word of mouth is the most powerful marketing tool there is whether it be good or bad.

I’m happy to say that within a half hour the rain pretty much stopped and within another hour the sun had come out. This created basically perfect conditions to photograph the flowers in: petals dripping with rainwater and sunlight making them sparkle. The rest of the afternoon was phenomenal. And I’ve come to the conclusion that there is something out there in the universe that likes to fuck with me from time to time.

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There is something that I could not figure out the entire time I was in Amsterdam. And that was this carnival in Dam Square (much like Union Square, but without a park). The first time I visited a couple of years ago, I only briefly went to this square, but it was the same crazy setup. This time around I was staying right down the street and so happened to pass by here every day. Now you’d think that it would be quite a task to dismantle and disperse bungee rides and ferris wheels and cotton candy stands and carnival games that, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never win more than that sad little stuffed bear. But somehow one day the whole thing just disappeared. Then 2 days later, it was back again! I’m confused.

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This cat was the house pet of the first hostel I stayed at, The Flying Pig Uptown. I have to say that this is the largest cat I’ve ever seen, though you can’t really tell from the photo. I also have to say, though I’m probably going to offend a few people here, that this is the coolest cat ever. And I am NOT a cat person. He was so fat and lazy that all he wanted to do was either 1. sit on a bar stool and sip drinks when no one was looking or 2. lay on one of these big pillows and be rubbed down. Thinking about it now, this feline and I might actually be related. We seem to enjoy the same things in life.

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I had planned on writing some smart essay about fonts and typography, but I’ve decided that 1. I’m too lazy and 2. I’d rather rebel against anything of the sort; I’m out of college and didn’t graduate with an English major. AKA, you can’t make me (as I stick my tongue out at you).

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I will say, however, that maybe because everything was in a different language that I most certainly do not speak that I started noticing the variety of fonts. I mean, I know New York is packed with advertisements and words and over-stimulators, but I’m used to it. And I can read it quickly. When you no longer have the subject matter to guide you to understanding, you have to try to read the voice of the typeface to figure out what is being communicated.

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And on that note, I’ll shut up and let you look at the photos. Enjoy!

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But if you know me, you know I don’t shut up all that easily…

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This last one was taken right down the block from the hostel that I stayed at in the Red Light District for four days. I have to say, the sign was actually much cooler than the shop. The goods sold were strictly condoms (rather than being a full on sex shop), and let’s face it, other than getting the job done, condoms aren’t all that exciting.

However, I’m not awarding points to either side (NY vs. Amsterdam) seeing as this was the Red Light District and there were more sex shops crammed into a half mile radius than there are Starbucks in New York. I guess some people just like buying their condoms in a shop that doesn’t also carry Deep Throat.

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This is the entrance gate to the biggest park in Amsterdam. The “Central Park of Amsterdam,” if you will. I was fortunate enough to be staying right door for half the time I was there. It’s a very pretty park and a lovely place to sit and watch all of the crazy Dutch people flying by on their bikes.

However, in no way does this park hold a candle to Central Park. It is much smaller and doesn’t have the well-crafted terrain that makes the New York attraction so, well, attractive. Yes, it is THE park of Amsterdam, but New York totally kicked ass in this round.

AMSTERDAM: 3 NEW YORK: 2

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Last night I finally sat down to start seriously editing all of the photos from my travels abroad. My cousin and roommate, Sarah, came and peeked over my shoulder and exclaimed, “It looks like Lady and the Tramp!!” Now this girl knows her Disney movies. Out of her DVD collection, I’d say about three-quarters of them are Disney animations (the other quarter includes awesome flicks like Clueless and Legally Blonde - yes, I love living with her).

Anyway, back to the story of two pups who fall in love. If you can recall the old school pre-Pixar animation, it is supposed to take place in New York. And for that, I award a point each to Amsterdam and New York. Because they obviously are similarly beautiful enough for that statement to be made. Cue the Italian music and give me a plate of spaghetti.

AMSTERDAM: 3 NEW YORK: 1

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These old school beer signs are all over the place in Amsterdam. I mean everywhere lining every street. This is awesome because 1. I love beer and 2. that means that on any given block in Amsterdam I can see each location at a glance where I can go to get stupidly drunk. I mean, there are probably just as many bars in New York, but we have the glowing neon signs in the windows instead. Maybe it’s just a novelty thing, but I’d trade them in for the round ones any day.

AMSTERDAM: 2 NEW YORK: 0

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After switching to DreamHost this week, I realized I hadn’t properly backed up my blog and therefore have spent the past few days going back through every. single. post. and manually uploading and inserting the images back into each. Annoying? Yes. Will I always make sure to back things up from now on? Absolutely. Learn from your mistakes, right?

Anyway, about this image. The first time I went to Amsterdam this was the first coffeeshop I ventured into. I was quite surprised when I walked in this time to find that they had just reopened and it was much nicer. Before it had been more of a bar. Now don’t get me wrong here, I’m all about bars. But now this place has got a cool Indian vibe going on. More character, if you will.

And on another note, there was actually a lot of really cool signs and typography all over Amsterdam. I took a lot of photos of this stuff and feel like if I write it down right now and send out my intentions to the World Wide Waste of Time that I’ll write a thoughtful essay on such matters, then I’ll actually do it. But I need a bit of time to procrastinate. After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day!

Yes, I’m comparing myself to an empire.

At any given moment while walking down the streets of Amsterdam, there are probably about 10 bicycles flying at you at an alarming rate. At first it’s a little startling to realize that you have to be hyper aware because it’s not only cars and trams going in every direction on streets that look like sidewalks (cobblestones anyone?), but also major bike paths are added to the mix. Pedestrians on foot do NOT have the right of way.

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However, it’s pretty sweet to see every street littered not with trash (it’s a super clean city), but bikes! They are EVERYWHERE. Tied up to anything that can fit a bike lock around it. Piled on top of each other. Spilling out of buildings and into the street. And they all look pretty much exactly the same. Which is probably why 2 million are stolen each year over there.

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I had intended to rent a bike for a day or two, but became a little intimidated since they fly through intersections and crowds and usually manage to not hit anyone. (I did witness a couple of collisions, but they kind of just laughed and kept on their way. I swear, the Dutch are the most easygoing people ever.) If I ever decide to move over there, I’ll man up and kick that city’s ass on two wheels. If they can listen to their iPods, talk on cell phones, and navigate in heels WHILE ON A BIKE, why can’t I?