I'm cheap and I don't like being out in the rain. These are really the chief driving impulses affecting my social life in Amsterdam. That and the fact that I only know about seven people. Thriftiness and the desire to stay dry, however, have lead me to discover (maybe rediscover?) the joys of pot luck dinners. Last night, for example, we had a dinner in my flat and everyone made a dish which was culturally typical of their country of origin. Embarrassing as it was to actually serve people American Chop Suey (as bland as I remember, but somewhat popular), Gerda, who brought a "Lithuanian Chocolate Bar," won out for least impressive (though it was tasty, it was distributed by Kraft foods). But it was also terrifically fun. And it cost me about three euros. And I didn't have to leave the house. I am going to another pot luck on Monday and we are going to start regularly having them on Wednesdays in the flat.
Along with my tendency to go to bed early and my drastically reduced alcohol tolerance levels, my enthusiasm for pot lucks seems to be a harbinger of early-onset elderliness. In fact, ever since I turned twenty-three I have felt a certain magnetism towards sedate, comfortable social interactions. I'm not tape recording Murder She Wrote yet, but don't be surprised if the next time you see me I'm wearing a skirt with a hem below my mid thigh... and organizing a pot luck dinner.
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This entry is very funny and relates to a conversation I had with Randall last night. The conversation started with Randall saying "Have you noticed that after graduation everyone's alcohol tolerence has been reduced to nothing?" And this seems oddly very true. My social life in Denver involves many "potluck" style gatherings and lots of small children and married couples. I think we have offically reached the age of crossing over into adulthood. A very strange feeling.
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