Amsterdam has been one tough bitch to crack. I’ve been understanding up until now, but with my visa just out of my reach and our posessions not yet arrived, I’ve been up to my eyeballs in the obstacle course that is being an expat.

ARE YOU SHITTING ME? WE’VE ONLY HAD IT FOR TWO WEEKS!

After getting the notorious “Red Ring of Death” on the Xbox 360, we were told to call Xbox in Germany and have them fix it, which was great news. I can’t get my internet fixed in Dutch, so surely I’ll be able to get the Xbox fixed in German.

OUR NEIGHBORS ARE DRUG ADDICTS/DEALERS/VAMPIRES

And when I say neighbors, I mean the people sitting outside of our house. As our rental agent, Don “Johnson” Wolfrat, has stated, Holland as a whole does not believe in the undead. Sure enough, when we went online to find haunted Amsterdam, we found one unconvincingly weak excuse of a walking tour complete with tea and biscuits at the end.

Perhaps the reason those in the afterlife choose not visit Amsterdam is that on top of the fact that everyone here is too level-headed to believe anything that doesn’t exist (so to speak) could have any cultural relevance, the entire city is built with sand and spit. Tap the bricks on the sidewalk, and you’ll see that they come right out. Paranormal theorists believe that ghosts like to attach themselves into the very thread of three dimensional objects, but I think a poltergeist would find it challenging (at best) to try to demonize any of the sand castles they call canal houses here. Apparently, superstitions are figment of the Western world’s imagination, best left only to countries who have had the good fortune to invent cement.

The living undead instead takes the form of the drug dealers and drug addicts who, much like vampires, only come out to prey in front of our house only after the sun goes down. After puncturing themselves no less than three times with a needle a la heroine, they too think they can fly, bite people, take on strange accents, and keep us up all night screaming, “BOOGEDY-BOOGEDY!”.

THE AMERICAN CONSULATE

Keeping Americans out since 1985.

We were told by the people who know to stop by the American Consulate and declare once again to the Dutch government that we do not love each other in the form of a non-marriage certificate (because once is never enough).

After that was done, we had to take it to Den Haag where all the rich people in Holland live and get it stamped by a government take-out window. The night before, a disgruntled employee had actually climbed up to the ninth floor and attempted to commit suicide, making our entrance into the building the next day frustrating at best.

BUT THINGS ARE LOOKING UP

  • Apparently all we had to do rip the Nintendo Wii out of the TNT Post’s hands was to cough up €65 for their troubles and pay another €29.95 just to get a transformer that will allow me to turn on the thing without it smoking up like a barbecue.

  • Our things are finally being moved in Tuesday, but I’m sure there will be a story to tell after it’s all said and done.

  • The Xbox came back and is working, but it chewed up our Gears of War, so we’re on CD number three. Don’t try to tell me that Bill Gates isn’t a cocksucker. Because he is.