...Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity-Jigg
At the behest of several known criminals functional lunatics friends, I am triumphantly returning picking up where I left off once again edifying the masses with my rapier wit banal sarcasm dignified observations and erudite commentary.
Having said that thanks to those who have patiently been visiting my blog over the last two months only to be greeted by the same post about my departure from the land of the Bog People. Truth be told a part of me does miss their guttural language, patronizing attitude toward buitenlanders, and of course, stroopwafels (see “My Take on Dutch Food”), but all the same I am moving on nonetheless. OK… I’m being a bit harsh, I bear no ill-will toward the friendly giants (statistically on average the tallest people on earth and getting taller apparently) of the marshlands and I enjoyed my time among them tremendously. Incidentally my theory about this is that they are so tall precisely because they live on top of reclaimed land. It’s a bio-evolutionary compensation for attempting to keep their heads above water for centuries. But that’s neither here nor there, and I’m here, not…you get the picture.
The most common question I’ve been asked since my return is, “is it strange being back?” The answer I usually give is very emotionally complex, deep, and trenchant, but summarized here with “no.” Would I rather be living in Europe? Yes, but I feel no reverse culture shock, as it were. OK maybe a tiny bit when I drove to Fargo-Moorhead for the holidays, but I always feel a bit strange there anyway. Kind of like trying to put on clothes that I’ve outgrown. The reality probably is that I’ve been too eff-ing busy since I’ve back to do much reflecting. Thankfully the stress of relocating has for the most part subsided and now I’m concentrating my energy on finding a job.
It’s been nearly a decade since I’ve lived in Minnesota so the whole cold thing sucks a bit. Everyone tells me how it’s been a really mild winter, but I know that’s really just a coping strategy. Let’s just face the music… it’s freaking cold. That, combined with the fact that I don’t know too many people in these parts yet has made me a bit of a home-body, but at least I can smoke in my apartment.
That’s about it really… and to think you’ve waited all this time for something enjoyable and entertaining to read. That’s life kids, get used to it.
I’m getting to know my way around Minneapolis a bit better these days. I need to find a favorite local watering hole (preferably within stumbling distance of my apartment) and an unpretentious coffee shop (an imaginary place) but these things take time.
In short, life’s good, hope you are all well, and thanks for checking in from time to time. I will attempt to post more regularly now, but please don’t thank me, a check will suffice.
Having said that thanks to those who have patiently been visiting my blog over the last two months only to be greeted by the same post about my departure from the land of the Bog People. Truth be told a part of me does miss their guttural language, patronizing attitude toward buitenlanders, and of course, stroopwafels (see “My Take on Dutch Food”), but all the same I am moving on nonetheless. OK… I’m being a bit harsh, I bear no ill-will toward the friendly giants (statistically on average the tallest people on earth and getting taller apparently) of the marshlands and I enjoyed my time among them tremendously. Incidentally my theory about this is that they are so tall precisely because they live on top of reclaimed land. It’s a bio-evolutionary compensation for attempting to keep their heads above water for centuries. But that’s neither here nor there, and I’m here, not…you get the picture.
The most common question I’ve been asked since my return is, “is it strange being back?” The answer I usually give is very emotionally complex, deep, and trenchant, but summarized here with “no.” Would I rather be living in Europe? Yes, but I feel no reverse culture shock, as it were. OK maybe a tiny bit when I drove to Fargo-Moorhead for the holidays, but I always feel a bit strange there anyway. Kind of like trying to put on clothes that I’ve outgrown. The reality probably is that I’ve been too eff-ing busy since I’ve back to do much reflecting. Thankfully the stress of relocating has for the most part subsided and now I’m concentrating my energy on finding a job.
It’s been nearly a decade since I’ve lived in Minnesota so the whole cold thing sucks a bit. Everyone tells me how it’s been a really mild winter, but I know that’s really just a coping strategy. Let’s just face the music… it’s freaking cold. That, combined with the fact that I don’t know too many people in these parts yet has made me a bit of a home-body, but at least I can smoke in my apartment.
That’s about it really… and to think you’ve waited all this time for something enjoyable and entertaining to read. That’s life kids, get used to it.
I’m getting to know my way around Minneapolis a bit better these days. I need to find a favorite local watering hole (preferably within stumbling distance of my apartment) and an unpretentious coffee shop (an imaginary place) but these things take time.
In short, life’s good, hope you are all well, and thanks for checking in from time to time. I will attempt to post more regularly now, but please don’t thank me, a check will suffice.
Labels: friendly giants, sheer brilliance, unpretentious coffee shops
14 Comments:
Consider this a mercy post due to your feelings of inadequacy posted on Kimberlee's blog... Good thing you have her.
Enjoyed your update ... and if you think it's cold now... you ain't seen nothing. Lived there as a child, remember below freezing days ice fishing with my dad out on Lake Harriet...
sld
Kimber's Blog is much BETTER !
Now that's just wrong people (and I KNOW who you are). At least Justin has been thinking on his blog ... which I just started doing recently. Seriously, did you read some of the stuff about life in Holland? I guess it's a lot more real (and hilarious) if you've lived there. Trust me, JC has his finger on the pulse of what makes this world tick. ROCK ON JC!!!!!!!
Wow, go kas. Good to have you back JC. It's weird having a new post on this blog -- I just about skipped over it out of habit.
Too bad you don't live in Saint Paul. I could fix you up with a dozen watering holes in a heartbeat. Also a coffee shop or two. I think they're less pretentious in Saint Paul for some reason, maybe just chauvinism.
Anyway, welcome back. Dress warm. Wear a toque.
There's nothing wrong with a little friendly razing ... the love is there ;-)
SIEL
glad to see writing again. i was talking about you the other day with tim as we were camping down at the gorge. still think about you from time to time. a little bit of bowling memories
Hey there !
Just posted on your other "newer" blog, only to discover that the old one was the one you use nowadays !
Anyway, I also enjoyed the update !
Take care,
Arnaud.
sld- Thanks for the mercy posting. My self-confidence is still intact due to your dilligence.
annonymous- While Kimberlee's blog may indeed be much better, I am still better at making quiche, which balances the power struggle in our relationship.
KAS- Thanks for the kind words, but I have this suspicion that you are trying to seduce me with flattery. If so, keep it up, it's working.
Hulles- I do adventure over to the Dark Side (St. Paul) every now and then. On of these days I'll join you for a drink... or two... I think you know where this is goes.
And thanks to the fasion influence of Jacques Cousteau and the McKenzie brothers I am well prepared in the toque department.
gold teeth- I take that by "camping down at the gorge" you mean "busting a cap in some foo's ass!" Boy do I miss the good old days of straight up gansta pimpin' with the Sizla and T. Rizzle.
Siel- As the great Scottish rock band Nazareth lamented, "Love Hurts." But I feel it nonetheless my brutha.
Arnaud (aka bluesky1974)- Merci, mon ami. J'essayerai d'écrire plus souvent dans un proche avenir.
Well, I think that is everyone. Thank you all for your valued commentary on this most prestigious and important of projects. More drivel on the way shortly!
Tah!!!
JC - here's a lesson, now take notes, tough love is better than no love at all -AND- "anonymous" and "SIEL" (not "Siel") are the same.
btw: I did wish you a happy birthday
SIEL
Also JC, real men don't eat quiche, -unless, it's 5AM in SOBE at some god for saken cafe/bar in a state of mind beyond comprehension where all other mental and physical capacities of sanity have gone by the way side from partying the night away in some hidden hip-hop room at a place that is so surreal that if you weren't there with someone that remembers (somewhat) there would be no way that you would ever believe it went down thus resulting in insisting on, demanding with contempt that you want a quiche regardless of whether it is frozen or not . . .
-SIEL
annonymous/a.ka. SIEL- Fist off, I've never made any claims to being a real man. For all you know I could just be a figment of KAS' imagination. I have been referred to elsewhere as "possibly real." I am however, an admitted Francophile, and as such spend large amounts of my time hanging out in 'noir' cafes drinking cafe au lait, eating croissants, and discussing existential themes, post-everything, obscure artists, various sundry 'isms' and the vapid nature of bourgeios morality in my black beret and turtleneck. So really eating a quiche every now and then never inspires a second thought. But now that you mention it...
If I ever see JC walking down the street (or across my bedroom) wearing a black beret and turtleneck, I might rethink my stance on the handgun purchase waiting period.
That being said, this man -- while an admitted quiche lover and an even better quiche baker -- is definitely real, or at least that's what the little voices in my head keep telling me.
Good one KAS, but all jokes aside, everyone knows that berets are cool, and are a mark of distinction and class. In fact, no single item of clothing says, "I'm deep and intelligent in ways you could never even dream of even if you were able to able to put down that 40 of Schlitz malt liquor long enough to string more than three thoughs together." Having said that, I do save the raspberry colored one for those 'special' moments when I'm not wearing much more.
. . .
-SIEL
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