I had the most perfect 30th birthday ever. Truly. I celebrated in Prague, smashed shots of slivovice and becherovka. Me, some friends, and my two flatmates (who I wish I’d appreciated more when I lived with them) went out dancing and didn’t get home until well after 5 am. Sadly, I don’t have any pictures of that. ‘Course, if I’d have thought to take my camera with me that night I’d have either A) lost it or B) wish I’d lost it, due to a number of embarrassing shots, I’m sure. We started the night at Akropolis, one of the few truly great places in Prague where both locals and the expats & tourists converge. It belongs to everyone. When we’d arrived, it was as if someone loved me very much and called ahead to request a playlist for me. They played latin electronica – Bebel Gilberto, Gotan Project, etc the entire time we were there. I couldn’t possibly have been more perfect.
We are all thousands of sheets to the wind by the time we left, and one of our friends suggested another place for more dancing and more drinking. He was a mysterious friend, always throwing money around left & right, but he only made an English teacher’s salary, also. (The rumor-most-likely-truth was just that he’d worked in the dot com industry and had quite a bit saved up and stored away.) I mention this because the place he’d suggested was pretty far out there, so he called up & paid for 3 cabs for all of us and off we went. The one thing I’ll always say about Prague is that it’s the safest city in the world, as far as I’m concerned. Czechs laugh at me when I say that, but I come from a place where a woman would never DREAM of taking the night tram home, by herself, at 4 am, drunk off her ass. We all did that often, in Prague. As long as you weren’t stupid enough to go to the one big dance club alone and leave your drink unattended (lots of foreigners slipping roofies… rufies? into drinks), you were fine. No matter how drunk I was, I was never one to set my drink down. Ever.
Anyway. We all took the night trams home that night and I remember my own flatmate randomly yelling the few Czech phrases she remembered, at anyone who would listen. And I remember passing out, immediately, waking up feeling like I’d died a thousand deaths, but being very, very happy.
Days before, I’d gone off to Amsterdam, again, for my 30th birthday Amsterdam trip. The company sucked (you’d think I’d have just learned to travel alone?) but I was happy to be there, nonetheless. I spent a couple days in Haarlem, this time, and just loved it. I loved the train ride, the cities, the market where I bought too many pastries and cheap jewelry. And who, but me, goes to a place like Holland in the winter? Well, I did. Often. Can’t help it, my birthday is in the winter, flights & hotels are cheap in the winter, there’s fewer tourists in winter and… well, I’m quite fond of winter.
And of course, I went to lunch at Wagamama once or twice.
Oh. I believe this is also when my collection and obsession with cow creamer holders began.
I only have 4, thus far. But I still plan on getting many, many more. Why? I don’t know. But they sure look cute in my kitchen.
There’s two more trips to Amsterdam to speak of, but only one that really matters. That’s when I met one of my favorite people, ever, and I hope she knows who she is…!