Ay, wat wil je? Heb je een probleem met mijn gezicht?

Two months away from my one year anniversary with my beau, Amsterdam. And like the love sick, can't-keep-our-hands-off-each-other couple that we are, I've recently found myself adopting all those little traits that used to niggle me so as the polite, little British girl that rocked up all those months ago. That is, over the last few months, I've noticed myself becoming ever so slightly more Dutch. Fear not, I haven't sprouted an extra eight inches, nor have I packed up and moved to a windmill where I survive purely on a diet of cheese and stroopwafels. These are just the little day to day things which prove I'm well on my way to adapting to this terrific lifestyle I've found myself living:

• I cycle everywhere and anywhere that would take me over 3 minutes to walk
• I prefer a vaasje over a pint - sorry Britain! - they just stay so bubbly, fresh the whole way down to the bottom
• I've learnt to appreciate that a great sandwich doesn't always need two slices of bread
• On that note, I've recognized that if there's one thing the Dutch can do, it's a crackin' sandwich spread
• My knowledge of the lingo is improving every week, well ik ben aat het proberen leer
• And the phrases I am gathering tend to be short, to the point, questions and statements. None of this polite dilly-dallying around the point, afraid to offend anyone present with every mumbled word. Phrases such as: 'what do you want?', 'do you have a problem with my face?', and in true Peggy Mitchell style, 'GET OUTTA MY PUB!' - all to be uttered with the utmost sass and underlying aggression
• I wear trainers all day every day. Trainers being Vans, Converse or Nikes - the Netherlands' top three. I study in 'em, I work in 'em, and I party in 'em. A pair of heels will guarantee you funny looks here, and for that, my feet are so happy.
• Anyone on a rental bike is my immediate enemy. Especially those who incessantly ring their bells because, of course, it's just hilarious..
• I take great pleasure in ringing my own bike bell at tourists walking in the bike lane
• Bitterballen are pretty awesome
• Shaking hands whilst stating only my name upon meeting new people is getting less and less weird
• I'm wearing an orange sweatshirt today. Because orange isn't actually all that bad of a colour..
  

However, in hand with this, of course comes the very few things I just know I'll never get used to. That my wee, British brain still cannot fathom, such as:

• Why the Dutch feel the need to wrap each teabag in it's own individual packet, yes, even inside the box
• The obsession with yacky liquorice
• THE WHOLE PAYING FOR THE TOILET THING?!
• And of course, Zwarte Piet. A little out-of-season I know, but nonetheless, the cheerful assistant of Sinterklaas, who children and adults a-like imitate by blacking up their faces and donning red lipstick because.. duhh, he spent so long up a chimney, why on earth else? 

But anyway, a relationship without these odd little discrepancies would be a boring one at that. And if there's one thing my Amsterdam isn't, it's boring - my Masters thesis more than accounts for that.
So schatje, you keep opening my eyes and I'll keep adapting, and who knows, maybe one day I'll be able to pronounce that hard 'g' without accidentally spitting all over your face..