Mike takes Amsterdam: annnnnnd then some

Day 19

“so for 50euro…”

Next morning, Katie met me at Mac Bike, the premiere bike rental shop. As I had mentioned before, usually in Facebook status updates, I planned on doing Amsterdam right- on a touring bike. And I’m telling you- there really is no other way to experience Amsterdam. Tour buses and rental cars can suck it; walking can suck it; everything can suck it- except for biking. The overall atmosphere of Amsterdam seems to much more upbeat, and I don’t think because of the dope, but because of the natural endorphins everyone has flowing through their bodies from riding bikes all day. I mean, really, look at this:

This is just the 1st level of a multi-leveled bike-parking area next to the canal. EVERYONE rides EVERYWHERE and it’s absolutely fantastic. This ultimately only leads to a few people driving, but from what I experienced, you can get everywhere you need to go on a touring bike. I was only on one for a few minutes when I realized how awesome the day was going to be. It just helps you feel really good because you get exercise, you’re not causing extreme pollution, and quite frankly, it’s just a a lot of fun! I could have rented a moped or gas-bike, but eff that, man! You gotta experience things as everyone else does them! Otherwise, what’s the point in going places, you know?

Katie finally showed up and it was really nice to see her again. We first met in my first year of college; we were in the same FIG (Freshman Interest Group) and from there, got her hooked on Smallville, so lest-be-said, we were pretty good friends and to see her again- well, it was really nice. Quick hug and we were outta there! Since I was still carrying my big-ass backpack, we road across town to her apartment to drop it off before we got going to a small coffee bistro, since Katie hadn’t ate all day and she had been riding for about an hour or so before she met up with me. It was here that I would have my first bit of legalized herb while Katie ate her bagel. Now, a slight history with me and this stuff: I’m not a big user. In fact, the times in which I had partaken in college really didn’t get me feeling as if I should ever do it habitually. This, right now, in this country, was something to add to my growing collection of “live-in-the-now” experiences and boy- Did I live in the now! Katie warned me though, smoking (too much) and riding was on par to drinking and driving, and I trusted her, so I took it easy. I mean, I did have the ENTIRE day…might as well pace myself…

Shortly after we had sat down, one of the workers came out and yelled at us for sitting in front of the store, so we packed up shop and got back on our bikes to go to another coffeeshop that Katie said had reallly good hot chocolate. I never really believed hot chocolate demanded the use of an exaggerated “really”, but she was right! At first I thought it was because we got it in a coffeeshop and she was more or less probably stoned whenever she got it, but nah man, this stuff was legit! It was steamed milk with cube of Dutch chocolate shucked on the end of a fondue stick that we had to stir in ourselves. Of course, because Dutch chocolate isn’t as sweet as it is stateside, each mug came with some extra sugar, but I didn’t mind the bitter darkness of the choco. It was almost as smooth as it was bitter…I know, I can’t really explain it, but it was! We sat there a bit and enjoyed the hot chocolate and the atmosphere of the small store before Katie looked at me and asked me if I felt like a beer.

It' was 11:30; of course I did.

We rode over to a small lunchtime bistro and had a lager while Katie explained to me how horrible customer service in Holland really wasn’t the best. Typically, you have to stare at the waiter while they walk toward you, not back down, and essentially grab them to get your order. 30minutes later, you had food. Luckily, all we got was a brew while we shot-the-shit, so we didn’t have to experience the horror of Dutch customer service. Here was where we planned out the next couple of hours, including a trip to the most popular farmer’s market in Amsterdam, a photography museum, and a canal tour.

After we had locked up out bikes outside of the market, Katie began telling me a bit about the cultural aspect of Amsterdam, particularly about the racial bigotry that has lately been coming about with the immigration of a lot of Turkish people. She told me that although her Dutch was relatively pretty poor, what could gather, would –as she put it- make my ears bleed. She compared it to early American racism against African-Americans and almost said it was more blood-lusty than that. I would say it was interesting to hear, but at the same time, saddening to hear that one of the happiest places to live in the world had been infected by the disgusting disease of racism. It’s interesting because from what I learned prior to my visit is that Holland, in it’s immigration, won’t allow anyone in the country who wouldn’t assimilate perfectly into their culture. Unlike the States where we embrace cultures of all varieties, the Dutch enjoy their already progressive society and don’t really like radical changes. For example, I believe- believe- that at one point, a questionnaire asked potential immigrants if they could tolerate gay persons kissing in public, and if they couldn’t, they wouldn’t be allowed in the country. I could be wrong and that might have actually been just a radical example of the immigration standards of the country, but from what I saw, it really wasn’t far off.

After Katie bought a t-shirt, we took a walk around the park (which was absolutely stunning) and went back to the bikes, where we then proceeded to Foam, the museum of photography. Foam’s current display featured the life and work of one photographer- W. Eugene Smith. His work as a photojournalist was amazing because at first, he took pictures because he felt a calling, but soon he started to take pictures for causes- namely WWII, Vietnam propaganda, human rights, and lastly to explore the humanity in people. Check out the link and check out what you can, because this dude was phenomenal.

Foam really brought me around to think of how I can use my photography for similar causes and not just for taking photos that “look cool”- but then I realized, I liked taking pictures that “look cool” and I’m fine with that at the moment; and then we got GIN. And not just any gin- the best gin in Holland! I mean, seriously, this shit was legit! This company, Wynand Fockink, is the premire distillery of Holland and has been since 1679; their products ranged from straight-up gin to mix-and-matched flavors. I, myself, had mandarin and creme brulee gins. The neat part about it is they came in fancy drinking glasses and filled to the brim with delicious liquor; however, you couldn’t pick up the glass without sipping it down first. It’s kind of like a blowjob at a bar- no hands policy- but after you sipped it down a bit, you were good to go. Check it: Katie and I classing up at Wynand Fockink.

The dude behind the counter was a curious sort, but was very good natured and if you do go there, you have to go with enough time to talk with him because it’s one of those places that…you just do. Don’t be the dick that gets a drink and leaves. Totally sweet spot that EVERYONE needs to visit in Amsterdam.

Before we got completely snockered on delicious gin, we decided to hit up the canal tour. The canal ride was nice because I got to see the areas of Amsterdam that we wouldn’t have been able to reach in the one day I was there. The worst part was when AN ENTIRE CLASS OF HIGH SCHOOL KIDS GOT ON THE BOAT; they were loud, annoying, and got in the way of ALL my shots. Those little bastards nearly ruined my canal ride, but luckily Katie was able to provide the information that I couldn’t hear from the actual guide. I didn’t end up taking many pictures because of the kids, but it’s alright because the pictures I did take were worth it.

After the canal ride, we made for one of Katie’s favorite pubs in the whole of Amsterdam. I don’t know what it was called, but all I know is while she bought cigarettes, I bought a wood pipe for more Julio. She couldn’t help laughing whenever I lit up because she admitted she had never seen anyone, ANYONE smoke from a wood pipe. My response?

America.

‘nuff said.

Now, for anyone following this asking themselves “Where is the part about the Red light District, Mike?!”

It’s right here: the pub, get this, was right down the alley from the Red Light District. Katie told me to just walk around and check things out, see it for myself. And I’ll tell you what- there are, in fact, women in doorways with red (more like hot-pinkish) lights around every door. And I was NOT ready for how pseudo creepy it was! I mean, there are WOMENin DOORWAYS with NO CLOTHES on! I mean, all throughout Europe I’ve seen uncensored mannequins in windows, but I was not ready for them to move- nonetheless wave at me! And they were EVERYWHERE! Left, Right, Up, Down…everywhere! And in some places, there were TWO of them in ONE ROOM! Given all my boyish excitement, I will admit I made a couple of laps through the district and for some reason, I heard a bunch of knocking whenever I would walk by. As Katie would later explain to me, that’s when the ladies had a particular interest in a fella. So it goes to say- I felt pretty special at hearing so many knocks my way. But then again, they are prostitutes that want to be paid, so, I’m not trying to give myself jazzhands over the knocking.

sooooooooo….we left the Red Light and got some Schwarme (?) at a Middle Eastern restaurant and then booked it home to have a couple more drinks and relax before my long-ass day of traveling tomorrow.

FAST FORWARD TO THE FOLLOWING MORNING

Before I got on a flight, I had a very Dutch meal of croquettes, which were deep-fried gravy rolls on bread. This, I believe, marked my return to the obese nature that is America- nothing like deep-fried fat on a stack of carbohydrates! And since I wasn’t prepared for it, I actually burned the roof of my mouth quite badly-which sucked. To add onto it, I got through security with maybe half-filled bottle of water and at the end of it, the lady wouldn’t let me take it with me or empty it out and refill it later. I mean, I understand the new international rules surrounding boarding flights and what not- but a dually hungover guy with a burnt mouth-roof needs water; I needed that water.

And here is where my European adventures come to an end- hungover and a burnt mouth-roof. Good thing the most of my trip in Amsterdam was spent in an unspeakable bliss or I’d have been pisssssssssed!

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society…Mike’s taking of Amsterdam: COMPLETE.

Our Norwegian protagonist braves the Netherlands in search of adventure; in other words….MIKE TAKES AMSTERDAM!!!

Day 18

“So wait, I can just walk into ANY coffee shop and not only buy marijuana- but then smoke it?”

“Yes.”

“hahah yeah…”

DISCLAIMER: for obvious reasons, I will not talk about some of my experiences directly or explicitly. Again, where most of my censoring comes from is the respect I hold for my grandmother, who is an avid reader of this travel blog, and I’d rather not scar her too badly. If you’d like to hear it all, bring a bottle of wine to my house before I leave Seattle and we’ll talk.

SECOND DISCLAIMER: I really didn’t do anything horrendous, but I like creating an exciting atmosphere with my story-telling, so for all intended purposes- just pretend I was a bad, bad boy.

Alright, so, the first day in Amsterdam wasn’t actually the most excited: I had a 10hour layover in Copenhagen, which last most of the day, and I ran out of minutes on my international sim-card, which resulted in me not being able to connect with my friend/tour guide. I think this was Monday the 24th….yes..I think so. I did, however, end up seeing a good amount of the gorgeous night-scenery while I looked all over the place for my freaking hostel. Seriously- I COULD NOT FIND IT. I stayed at the Stayokay Hostel at Vondelpark. As I would come to find out, it was actually StayOkay Hostel in Vondelpark; the hostel was literally in the middle of this park. I, on the other hand, walked around for over an hour with my 35lb bag trying to find this damned hostel, looking like the biggest sap of a tourist in the world. As anyone who knows me knows- I dislike tourists, immensely. Mostly because of their ignorance and non-desire to actually live and learn a culture, instead, opting to visit sightseeing destinations and stay in fancy hotels. I know, I know, I’m an econ major and I know tourism is a fair chunk of some nations’ GDP, but still, tourists on whole can be assholes.

But I digress.

I looked liked the only tourist in Amsterdam, and because it was winter, I wasn’t too far off. But I eventually found it, thanks to the help of another hotel manager. I checked in, found my coed room, and unpacked. And here’s the funny thing about the coed room- it was full of dudes. I clicked on the coed because it was the only room open at the time I registered, but I have a feeling that every other dude in the room booked it accordingly to try and fully “experience” Amsterdam with a little hostel love. And another interesting thing was that there was an entirely girl-tour group staying the hostel and I could hear girls down every which way of the corridor and every room around us- but our room was completely dudes. I don’t know, I just find this to be a funny occurrence. One of my hostel-mates, Daniel (?) from Argentina, had just checked in as well and was getting all prepped up for the stay. We chatted for a bit and I eventually decided to go check out the city a bit. Daniel (?= I forgot his name, so it will be Daniel from now on) was working on his blog and I tried to persuade him to come out and get some drinks, but he declined because he wanted to write everything while it was fresh in his mind. Right at that moment of denial, a PACK OF CLUB-DRESSED = SCANTLY CLAD WOMEN walked behind me, tossing smiles and flirts our way. I did one of those slow head-turns back to Daniel whose head had tilted so far to the side he could rest his ear on his shoulder (comfortably), raised an eyebrow, and threw a headnod towards the chick-pack.

HE TURNED ME DOWN!! AGAIN!

something is wrong with this dude, seriously.

Anyway, I was done trying to persuade this guy to come out, and I took off after the night-life. The pack had gotten out of sight by the time I got out, so hunting was out of the question, leading me to find fun on my own [which isn’t hard for me]. I walked to the touristy-tourist center of town and immediately found a bar playing loud music and had a good, dense crowd of people. I made my b-line for the bar and got some drank. Honestly, nothing really happened here; I talked with a couple of people, drank a bit, got a couple beers bought for me, and left because it was 4am something and I was drunk. I was set to meet Katie, my buddy, at a local bike shop in the morning around 10:30, so I figured with everything going on that next day, I should have probably started back. As I step out of the bar, I look across the way and see the “Cool-Down Cafe” (?), a coffeeshop. As Katie told me –“Coffeeshops = weed; coffeehouse = coffee”. And I mean, what is the sensible son of an agent of the law going to do at a time like this?

You’re damn right I went into that coffeeshop.

“Did you smoke..?”

No.

“Why not?!”

Because (1) I didn’t have any matches; (2) I was already drunk and I didn’t feel the need to go overboard; (3) honestly- I was nervous!

In the States, as everyone knows, this is bad-juju, and I wasn’t quite in Netherland-mode yet, so I took my time, ya dig?

So here I am , walking down the street back to my hostel, nd I’m thinking to myself: “Damn I’m cool!”, when in reality, I was just now fitting in to the Holland scene. But in any case, I felt awesome because I had already started experiencing Amsterdam. Even though I had drank until 4am, met some peeps, and bought a J- today was going to be NOTHING compared to the next night, which you can read in my exciting conclusion!

…to be continued…

Mike takes Denmark: part 2!!!

Homecoming: Day 15—>day 16

“I’m really horny!"’

I’ll admit it: I passed out on the floor once we got back to the hotel. Am I embarrassed? Hell no, I meant to do it! I needed some energy for the night because as I mentioned earlier, I wasn’t going to leave Denmark without checking out the night-life. Luckily for me, I had been in contact with a fellow Surfer who had invited me out. After Christian passed out, I snapped out of my drool-filled coma and cleaned up a bit (put on deodorant) and left to meet up with Natalia, an Erasmus student from Poland. We didn’t stay at the apartment for long since people wanted to hit Jomfru, granted the clock at just struck midnight:30, the party, my friends, was just beginning on Jomfru.

Lights.
Dancing.

Katy Perry.

Techno.

Dancing.

The night was pretty epic. I mean, there really isn’t much to talk about considering I danced and drank with people I vaguely knew, which was fun. I think one of the highlights of the night was while dancing, I kept feeling this bumping behind me. Of course, being the optimist, I think it’s some gorgeous Danish model that for some reason was getting my attention for a good techno session; it was a drunk dude. Slight embarrassment, yes, but the dude was dancing with an equally, if not more, intoxicated gal. This made to be the WORST dance team in the world as they were knocking into absolutely everyone on the floor. Luckily for me, I was a first hand witness to his downfall.

I was dancing with Natalia and her friend when this guy says something in this gals ear while dipping her, trying to neck, right? I guess that’s what single guys do- the dip and neck and whisper sweet nothings into a chick’s ears even though she can’t hear a damn word he’s saying. Being not nearly on their level of wasted, I was able to hear it just fine. The dude actually did this, I shit you not; he dipped her, nibbled on her neck, and then whispered- “I’m horny” in her ear, very nonchalantly. When she couldn’t hear him and asked him to repeat it, he said louder and probably more proud: “I’m horny!”

I have never seen anyone as drunk as she was at that moment become as sober as she seemed to become; she stood STRAIGHT up, almost robot-like, and walks in a direct-route to the bathroom [my guess- to hurl], again, like a robot. Simultaneously RIGHT at that moment, a loud “BARBARA STREISAND” came over the bass system and I’ll tell you what- I nearly lost it. I was laughing so hard from his EPIC fail and the song that I nearly pissed myself on the dance floor. You might not think it’s hilarious, but try having hundreds of people scream, “BARBARA STREISAND” in complete techno-unison; it’s hilarious.

ONTO THE NEXT PARTY (the next night, Saturday)

Christian was gone and I was contemplating not going out because of my early flight (those of you who know, know this is the reason I hate the Danish customer service industry)- but then after a good push from my pals in the states, I decided to head out and rock Denmark one last time.

Bar #1: Robin [ referencing Robin Hood]. Time: approx. 10:30pm

Fantastically cheap beer, especially when you say you’re American- People LOVE IT! There were two Danish “bros” that were absolutely enthralled with my Americaniness that they kept buying the rounds, which of course, would was mondo appreciated. Apparently, they love Los Angeles, Seattle, and how businesses are open on Sunday. Things were going great until they started mentioning hard drugs. I could SWEAR one kept rubbing his own nipples. Once they left to go into the ‘smoking room’ (an area with a 3/4 wall surrounding it), I paid my bill and peaced out to another bar, one with more….dancing! Boom!

Bar#2: Dunno, Didn’t see the name. Time: approx. Midnight

Way more dancing going on, myself included. The worst part was even though the ratio of men to girls was technically man-favored, Danish chicks will either dance with you- or not. There is NO middle-room, which is where I was. I consider “middle room” to be just dancing around having fun, nothing resembling the virtual kama-sutra. But as I said (and my soon-to-be-new friend Peter would later confirm for me) that Danish chicks are TOUGH. If they don’t wnat to dance with you, friendly or otherwise, they won’t have ANY of it. So, because of all the debbie-downers, I just decided to grab some beer and see what happens. Sure enough-nothing of circumstance.

Enter Peter Knox- the local Irishman.

Standing 6’1’’, blonde, and wearing a tight black tee, Peter’s out for a good time with some friends of his, a couple of which are Erasmus students with Natalia. He notices I’m drinking alone and instantly says “Cheers!” and I clink pints. “Who ya hear with, man?” says Peter. “No one, my man, no one,” says I. “Alright then- hey miss! And another beer for my friend here!”

Peter Knox- my new friend.

I’m not going to lie, I forget his buddies’ names, but they were pretty alright dudes. We got some drinks at the bar, and then I noticed the guys putting their jackets on and I guess we were moving to another bar with a better ‘crowd’ i.e. there weren’t enough beautiful ladies for my new posse. Boom, new bar!

Bar #3: I want to say….Hollywood Boulevard. Time: nearing 2am

2 beers and 3 cigarettes and the dudes wanted to bounce- and bounce we did. By then, it was getting late and I should have gone to bed, since I had to be at the airport in 2 hours; HOWEVER, no way I was going to let this night end so early because why…? I was in freaking DENMARK! Cripes! So anyway, we ran off to the next bar down the street to rock the night away.

Bar #4: Alright…way past the point of remembering- not gonna lie. Time: Somewhere around 3am.

We go to a fancy place down the street, a legit disco-teck- dancing platforms, bar in the middle of the room, and a 50kroner cover charge. As Peter and his crew mentioned, this places fellas-to-gals ratio was greatly in the guys favor, but as I had mentioned, Danish girls are hard. What this means for me is A LOT of mean glares from people I didn’t know when I became pushed into them by people actually more drunk than I was. It’s absolutely crazy! I wasn’t looking for anything than but some dancing and fun-having, but these club goers, the ones wanting to go home with EVERYONE with the opposite sex were making life miserable! Good thing my posse were all out for just having some good time. Beers in hand, and away we went! I left the incredibly mean Danish girls to all the club sharks- it just wasn’t for me. All the FREAKING perfume and over-stenched cologne was an ABOMINATION to nostils and I was having fun chatting it up with the dudes and getting the occasional wink from the ladies. Coincidentally, I got the most winks and looks only after people had heard my American accent. It was a mounting proof that foreign people, women in general, love the American. However, this American accent doesn’t mean diddly when you’re in a club with bass system that literally shakes your bones.

Ah, so is life.

In any case, it was now 4am and I was running late for the my airport appointment, so I booked back to the hostel. I needed to be checked in to the airport at 4:30am..ruhroh! WORTH IT! It’s 4am and I was about to discover just how much I hate Danish customer service.

….to be continued…

Mike Takes Stavanger!!!

Homecoming: Day 8

“I’m going to buy you a drink- but only if you drink it!”- Egil

So far, this was one of the most exciting for these reasons:

1. I was alone (Christian stuck back to help his dad);
2. I only booked hotel for one night (I was counting on my social skills or CouchSurfing to find a place to stay the second night);
3. I had NO idea where I was.

And in brief, I will say this: it was a damn good trip.

There really aren’t many tourist activities, with I'd say only about 8 museums, of which, 4 are actually interesting. I sort of knew that going into it, though. Stavanger is a huge oil town and known for its close proximity to gorgeous fjords, fantastic scenery, etc; the tourism lies in nature. I will say this: Stavanger has a very good ‘old’ section of town that brings to light a modern-history. It was kind of neat to walk through that section of town and see the close clusters of neighborhoods and then look behind them to see skyscrapers and cranes, building newer, more attractive buildings. It was also…kind of sad…it reminded me of America and it’s inability to preserve history. I guess it’s not all to blame on our desire to progress, but I mean, c’mon- we suck at building history-withstanding structures; barns no older than 100 years are crumbling all around us.

Anyway, so, tangent aside: Stavanger was awesome!

I’ve decided not to talk about how I walked around all day and looked at things, because there is only so much I can say:

“So, I walked down that street and that one. I stopped to take a photo. It was nice.”

There, I talked about it!

But really, what was really nice about the Stavanger trip was meeting up with the new people. I recently was told about this site called CouchSurfing.com, a place where people from all over the world who like to travel, can meet other people who like to travel just as much as they do. Aside from the obvious [you can use it to sleep on people’s couches], it’s a fantastic opportunity to meet opened minded people who don’t think the whole world has gone to the dogs. And it’s true- you have to be open-minded about a lot in order to have a successful surfing experience. Both parties have to trust in people and believe in the world for it to work and if you don’t, well, you' should stay in a hotel. It’s not for everyone; if you like your privacy, don’t like talking to other people, and you have a dislike of genuine humanity- you should stay in a hotel.

I had two really great surfing experiences in Stavanger; one was with Vegard Bø and the other Chi-Chi Ton. Vegard was my night life guide, while Chi allowed me to stay on her couch [which actually turned out to be a nice IKEA bed]. I was a little downtrodden because no one had responded to any of my requests to hang out that night, but then Vegard responded and invited me out for some drinks with his friends. This worked out fabulous because it was Friday night in Stavanger and I wanted to experience it. It ended up also that his buds had a huge work project that held them from the night out, but we rocked it anyway. We met in the hotel lobby around 7 and headed out. What I saw was a 5foot-nothing dude was glasses, but who I saw was someone who knew how to have a good time. And dayum- he knew how to work the bars. We went to a hole-in-the-wall place with 30Kroner beer, which is a big thing because alcohol is SO damned expensive here. After a few rounds, we started talking to a big S.Korean-Norwegian dude by the name of Egil. EGIL!! It was one of my goals for the trip to meet an Egil and I did! and he bought me round after round of drinks because (1) he was hella impressed with my Norwegian and (2) because he said I was a good man. SEE- it pays to be an open-minded, fun loving dude from the states. We peaced out after Vegard’s buddy, Saema, said there was an after-party at another bar. So we go, but the dude wants 100kroner to get in! What’s a Mike Snowden to do? Oh, yeah-

“Hey man! I’m from USA on vacation- how’s about 50kroner for me and my friend?”

He folded like a house of cards. BOOM!

So, after some drinking, dancing, and helping some old drunk bastard get up from falling down the stairs, we call it a night. It’s 3am and we’re sh*tfaced.

FASTFORWARD TO THE NEXT DAY AT 4PM

Chi picks me up from outside the hotel and seriously, we hit it off. Not in the “oh yeah, totally gonna get some” hit it off, but in the fact that it seemed right away that we had been friends for years. Chi was such an awesome host, seriously. She made dinner [one with meat, which she did for me because I said I missed bbq food] and bought beer [for me, because she was on penicillin], and watched Team America [for us, because we both love that movie]. Her friend came over and we all hung out and talked, you know, kept it real. I really wanted to go out again, but as Chi mentioned, “Norwegians for the most part are difficult to just start a conversation with. It’s not that they are assholes, it’s just that sometimes they don’t want to”. Plus, Chi and I were having a grand time just talking and laughing, that I ended up opting out of the bar scene. We ended the night with a movie and both passing out on our respective sides of the very comfortable couch. Chi, my newest friend, put me-a stranger- up for the night and we both had a great effing time. We spent most of it laughing and making fun of stupid things, which as we all know, are my favorite past-times.

All in all, the best part about Stavanger was the people I met and the fantastic time I had integrating myself into modern Norwegian life. I had experienced more of the traditional life in Kristiansand, but in Stavanger, I set out to meet new people and share in a fun experience; I did this and it was awesome.

Consider Stavanger: TAKEN.

Vegard, Saema, and Me This is Chi Ton, my Couch Savior.

fra Norge med kjærlighet

Home for the Holidays: Movie Rundown

I have had some downtime since I've been home, so I decided to catch up on my couch-surfing and film-fiestas. The flicks I've seen thus far:

1. A Christmas Carol (Newest one with Jim Carrey)
2. Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant
3. Fried Green Tomatoes

And here's what I think of them:

Jim Carrey's A Christmas Carol. [4.0 Thumbs Up]

My first reaction was that this movie is not meant for a younger audience, and so far, people have agreed with me. There are some scenes in the film that were so FREAKING freaky that even I jumped a bit. For those who have seen it, you know which ones I'm talking about, but for those who haven't, it's the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Everyone knows this as the creepiest spirit and Robert Zemeckis makes sure we know it and we know it HARD.

My second reaction, however, was pure amazement. It was the intense emotions, the incredible imagery, the masterful scoring, and the beautiful direction that made it a wonderful film. The theme of the movie was conveyed much more greatly than the older version with Scrooge McDuck. Given they are both animated, the 'raw' expressions of the new Scrooge and the heavy imagination of Robert Zemeckis made for a Carol that was fantastic, albeit a more adult-fantastic.

Some other cool things were the voice/character recognition, where the character was adapted to look like the actor lending the voice. The Ghost of Christmas past was the creepiest because it's Carrey doing his creepy voice, but trying to make it a serious piece. So, yeah. Nuff said on that.

All together, I think A Christmas Carol was extremely well done and could become the new "go-to" film for the holidays.

Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant [2.7 Thumbs Up*]

This is going to be brief and skewed for two main reasons. First, I didn't start it from the beginning; Second, I didn't finish it- not because it was horrible, but because I was hungry and got some food. By the time I got back, the movie was over. With that said, this movie is kind of tricky to decipher because there is not a whole lot that enticed me to ever want to see this film on my own dime- yet a small part of me enjoyed this film. Maybe it was the odd variety of freaks presented in the show or the fact that it was a simple film done simply for simple-minded people. If I were to critique it properly, it'd probably end up saying that this film is a waste of time, and since it's already a skewed breakdown, I'll say this:

• Unknown star supported by a relatively big-time cast = mixed feelings on the acting;
• Vampire vs Circus Freak subplot= mixed, yet intrigued feelings;
• John C. Reilly as a bad-ass vampire = not the greatest;
• Ray Stevenson as a creeped out super-freak= also, not the greatest;

Basically, I was right on with my desire to never want to pay for it, but if it were to ever become a filler show on TBS, then I would be more than welcome to wasting my time zoning out to the horrible special effects and permed-out, gingered-up John C. Reilly

Fried Green Tomatoes. [2.6 High Fives]

I'm not a big fan of chick flicks, especially ones which ask Kathy Bates to look at her own vagina. However, movies that empower people to break out of their conservative and abused lives can't be all that bad. Fried Green Tomatoes is such a movie that I will only watch once and this is because I really...really wanted to take a nap, yet I ended up watching it all. The movie is about Kathy Bates wanting to change her shoddy life situation and in doing so, meets a crazy ole' gal that tells her a story of an intense friendship between two young women, one empowering the other and the other supporting the other, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Throughout the movie, Kathy Bates takes these stories close to heart and uses them to fix her life. There's action, mystery, vaginal empowerment, and mini-adventures that tend to have those with softer-hearts tearing up and wishing they had friends like that.

As for me? Well, let's just say it was a movie that I'll watch once willingly. If there were to be a next time, I'd expect much incentive to sit through it.

I'll try to watch something else more exciting, but most of them are holiday favorites [National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story, etc] and since most EVERYONE on the planet should have seen them by now, I'll just leave it at that. If you haven't seen the holiday necessities, pull your head out and get with it.

Boom!

Home for the Holidays: BLACKOUT!

Image of "Blackout" of Warner Bros's Transformers. Desktop image by LordSeacow

Last night was the last night my brother and his girlfriend Stacy were in town for their trip, so we planned out an epic night of food, fun, and fancy. It was going to be truly epic. And because I believe in the rule of 3, I shall say it once more.

Epic.

The Food was wicked sweet- turkey dinner with mashed potatoes, stuffing, baked apples, broiled broccoli, and rolls. Effffffing tasty, right?!

The Fancy had begun during dinner, with some wine, toots (spirits), and for my sister- Diet Mt. Dew.

The Fun was planned out as such: Scattergories, ApplesToApples, Karaoke, and then some sort of Wii game. In other words, it was going to be much fun- and then-

BLACKKKKKKOUUUTTTT!

Oh, preface: Spokane, WA was hit with a storm cell that covered our area with a lot of snow. It started out as the heavy stuff that is perfect for building for a day or so and then moved to the very dry stuff that comes with much colder weather. So, pile that together and you've got the good-stuff that can knock down trees and stuff, in turn, knocking out the power to your house.

BLACCCKKKKOUTTTTTT!!!

At first, no one knew what to do. I was in the3 bedroom talking with my mom and brother about possibly moving to LA, my dad was downstairs making a toot, and my girlfriend Sarah, my sister, and Stacy were all in the living room playing Words with Friends (yes, in the same room and Yes, against each other). It took a while to get things set up for the night with lighting candles, designating the community toilet (for number 1), and making drinks, but all in all, it turned out to be a better night than I think we even planned for.

I mean, no one can schedule a blackout and everyone loves spontaneousness! We lit candles to play Scattergories and rocked it for a while, carrying on the fun night we planned on. After we'd all had some toots and played some games, we came to our senses and realized that the power was out and it wasn't going to come on magically in the middle of the night and with forecasts of overnight temperatures close to zero degrees, we ended up falling back on my parent's on firing up the generator so we could have heat throughout the night.

We ended up also plugging in the fridge and our downstairs TV, and once again, we made a round of toots, sat ourselves down in a tight bunch, and plugged in season 1 of ABC's Modern Family.

Good show, good company, and a good last night with my brother and his girlfriend. Honestly, I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

I hope everyone else is having as good a time on their holidays as I am, 'cause I'm having a ton of it!