See, alone we stand, together we fall apart. Tables they turn, sometimes.

Living away from friends and family isn't always the easiest. Even in the most thrilling periods of play times and good times, it's easy to have a down day. To wake up suddenly very aware of how far away Dad is when I need him to fix my bike in that superhero way he knows how to make everything work again; realising that Mum's breakfast pancakes would be stone cold and soggy by the time they reached me; and that crying into a webcam over a dumb boy doesn't come close to being able to have my Sister squeeze me tight in-person and ask which loser she has to go and beat up. Knowing that the day ahead of you is filled with endless potential linguistic barriers, that going to the supermarket should not be this stressful and living in constant fear that people are laughing about you in a language that makes as much sense to me as the fact that I have to PAY to deposit money into my Dutch bank account.
Well, today is one of those days. With my Masters thesis staring me expectantly in the face - and by Masters thesis I of course mean blank pages - and the persistent, and frankly rude, snow that continues to fall outside despite it being ALMOST APRIL, it's safe to say that this bear is grumpy and crying out for affection with a needy blog post.

However, after a few whiny (on my part) and affirming (on his) words with an old friend, I decided it was time to take some man pills, build a bridge, get over it, and take a look at the bigger picture. Stop being so dramatic because, although it hurts to not be able to hold close the ones you would give anything to, anything to get rid of that stupid ocean between me and Boston, me and Australia, I know it'll make our next play date all the more adventurous.
So here we go kids, 10 things I have to smile about right now:

1. I freakin' live in Amsterdam
2. Lauren Day is coming to play tomorrow
3. I’m young and have no commitments to hold me down, I’m my own number one priority and the world is my oyster
4. I have an awesome job, always a pleasure never a chore
5. I have amazing friends and family that support me no matter what
6. It’s almost summer
7. The sheer existence of peanut butter. Oh, and that it's literal translation from Dutch is 'peanut cheese'
8. I will be getting into freshly washed bed sheets tonight
9. I'm about to watch two films and call it 'research' 
10. This:

Painfully cheesy I know, but would you look at that, the snow has ceased and the sun is peeping out to finally say hello. Nevertheless my thesis pages are still blank, but hey, you can't have everything, right?

Tramps like us, baby, we were born to run

The other day I was chatting to a customer at work about just what it is that makes Amsterdam such a tremendous city to live in. What it is that makes it feel like home the second you lay eyes on those familiar crooked houses with their endearing slanty roofs, almost leaning over to greet you as you potter on by. Yet also the anticipation and excitement a days exploring can bring, with each newly discovered nook and cranny of the city guaranteeing a fresh perspective, teaching a new lesson.
After swapping stories of work and play, we found the common ground for the reasons behind our contented grins was in fact our experiences with fellow expats. The city is brimming with them. Faces from far off lands. Smiling faces that jump to bewilderment the minute they are confronted with the guttural sounds of Nederlands. But each face with a unique story to tell. One of my favourite things about meeting new people in this city is not asking their name or where they live but where they're from and how they got here, why Amsterdam, why now. And every response is worth the time it takes to listen, quirky stories of fate that match the city's unique and gezellig charm.
Nonetheless, as romantic and fruitful as expat life in Amsterdam sounds, hand in hand with it comes expat problems. First world expat problems if you will. And fear not, in true British style I am of course going to vent to you about these now. After all you know what they say, you can take the girl out of England...

- I have to take my UK plug adaptor everywhere I want to go and study. I have known this for 6 months now, yet still forget it every time.
- Being continually and relentlessly embarrassed by tourists from our homelands, reminding us just why it is that we left. English football hooligans make me a terrible person.  
- The MENTAL weather. It's mid-March. Stop snowing, ya weirdo.
- Having no idea whether the day or month comes first when writing the date. If it's a number under twelve, I'm stumped.
- Never mind the Dutchies, I have no idea how to greet other expats. Hugs, kisses, handshakes, waves. I break a sweat just thinking about it.
- Not having natural cockiness on a bike, or just natural co-ordination in my case.
- Not being able to understand a hell of a lot of public and usually pretty important announcements.
- Panicking every non-Brit with the mention of Mother's Day. Don't worry guys, you have another two months to prepare.
- Buying cards for such occasions.
- I keep burning my mouth on Bitterballen and leaving my Stroopwafels melting on top of my cup of tea for that split second too long then hearing that fateful plop. Zo ongezellig.
- I'm done with mayonnaise.
- Getting excitable whenever I hear a Northern accent then looking massively weird when people clock me.
- Being far too polite and easily offended to comprehend the bluntness of the Dutch.
- Being trapped in a small time portal when it comes to contemporary music.
- HAVING NO IDEA WHAT THE HARLEM SHAKE IS??

Nags and niggles aside, Amsterdam and I have definitely made it through the honeymoon period of our relationship and found ourselves firmly developing some solid foundations - ironic for a city standing below sea level on some apparently rather flimsy wooden poles?
And our future? Well, it's definitely looking bright, and it's definitely looking orange.