Pancakes and The Breakfast Club

I am good at some things and bad at many. Some of the things that I am good at, are in fact, bad things. Procrastination is one of those things I am best at. This is what I am doing as we speak. Instead of working on an article due soon, I am writing in my blog. I am also good at eating entire bags of Japanese snacks, like I did earlier today. Complaining, sleeping, and laughing are included on my list of things I am good at.

I'm not even going to go into the things I am bad at.

I went to Amsterdam last weekend and it was really fun. I got back last night after about fifteen million buses, trains, and planes. Me and my friend Mandana, who I went with, literally made our flight by like five minutes ... maybe less. A part of me wanted to miss that flight a part of me was overjoyed to make it. A part of me selfishly, wanted to stay in Amsterdam for a little bit longer ... That city is made for lingering. Why would anyone want to leave? It's adorable. Tree lined canals, dollar pancakes, hot chocolate with whipped cream, smoky cafes, smokier jazz bars, fries with mayonnaise, clogs, cheese--how could anyone not like these things. I for one love all of those things and that was what my weekend was comprised of.

The food. Wow, the food. I don't know what it is about the food in Amsterdam but it's the type of food I recall for years when I'm hungry, which is about every 2 seconds ... Those pancakes. Those fucking itty bitty pancakes! It's heaven in my mouth. They call them poffertjes over there in Dutch land. The reason I know that is because I am literally obsessed with them. I remember the first time I went to Amsterdam with my parents. I remember those pancakes we ate at a carousel shaped restaurant next to Vondel park and The Van Gogh Museum.

I remember being a kid with my parents, stuffing my face with poffertjes. I ate them again on this trip. They were as delicious as I remember them to be. I love them. I love Amsterdam. I love lazying away the day at a cafe with rain pouring down outside, helping you rationalize the fact that you spent all day in a cafe in Amsterdam. I love it there. I always have and I always with. Every trip is a different experience and I know I'll go back again and again.

I'm sitting here now in a my favorite neighborhood restaurant/cafe called The Breakfast club. It's 6:20 p.m. in London. There are no lights in here other than the subtle flicker of a melting candle and a string of green lights hanging from the ceiling. It's cozy in here. I'm scared to leave and be out in the rain--my shoes have only started to dry. At least for now I'm content here, sipping on a cup of rose tea, writing and trying to figure out life while the dim glow of a red candle flickers near my computer screen.