What the F ever. Blogging after my US trips is also cathartic. I always need some of that because of the post trip blues.
So please, move along further into the 21st century, while I lament about how much I want to live in the States and how awesome the awesomeness awesometh from all the awesomies around my own awesome self. Cause this here is my party and I'll cry if I want to.
But if you want to read along anyway, rest assured; I'm not going to list a blow by blow of this trip. Just some thoughts. On undutchables. And me, me, me of course. Because a pity party calls for some narcism.
Chicago
Thursday I was out for drinks with a friend whom just had returned from Chicago herself. We were trying to come up with a good way for us Dutch folk to describe the city and from an outsiders perspective, I think she nailed it. She said: "Chicago is a smaller, prettier, friendlier and most of all a lot more subdued version of New York".
NYC is still my favorite American city. How could it not be? However, whereas New York would surely attempt to swallow me whole, I could see myself actually living in Chicago. Easily. I'd get a bike and ride up and down the shoreline on weekends. Go to Cubs games. Have a job. Bask in Midwestern friendliness. Sit on the 'beach'. Go on hikes outside the city with Yannick. Make enemies with my Dutch cynism. Make friends in spite of that. So, on The List of Esther, Chicago is tied in second place with San Francisco.
Also, good job, Chicago, on the architecture. Blew me the fuck away, specifically because of the combination of modern, ecologically responsible construction with those typical midwestern feel brick buildings.
DMB
BEF opened [stay up your fucking tree]. I got my #41. There was a Captain. Spoon with Brandi Carlisle was mind blowing. There was a What Would You Say. Two Step was awesome. We managed to end up with a bigger group in a row both nights. No regrets here.
Creek
It wasn't until I got back home after a delayed flight, which meant I had to immediately go into a meeting that I thought: "Maybe I'm too old for this". And then immediately dismissed it.
My mom** accuses my travels to the US of being "just very expensive escapism". She's wrong - except for maybe Creek. It is in fact three days of drinking waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much, smoking (which I don't do anymore - but apparently I do at Creek), whining about my arthritis (at one point my ankles were wider than my feet), popping pills to fight off said arthritis and other hangovers, eating crap (although it wasn't that bad this year) and laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing. So much laughing. An escape? Yes. Do I care? No.
Friends
I completely dropped the ball on catching up with Sarah. I'm glad I got to hang out with her and we had fun, but because there were no car rides together to or from the campsite, or a couple of days of 'normalcy' in Nashville, we only managed to cram in just a couple of inquisitive questions. Unacceptable. Personally, I'm rooting for an MSG weekend with an extra Sarah & Esther day in NYC this fall, to make up for it :).
Once again I met some awesome new people this trip. And was so glad to hang out with the ones I'd already met. No matter what these relationships are to be called exactly - friendships, 'buddyships', it's wonderful to be able to just be yourself. Whether it's something Dutch or the limiting ties of everyday friendships, it's not that easy to just 'let loose' back home. I did some crazy stuff this trip (like kissing random - as in, I don't know their name - strangers), but I didn't feel judged for a second. I'll admit that I did feel embarassed on a couple occassions... Who knocks themself out on a slip 'n' slide? Not to mention kiss random, nameless strangers?
The group at Creek was the smallest I've been a part of thus far. In my opinion that didn't diminish the fun at all. If anything, we all camped and hung out together, in the shade of four easy-ups. Instead of the usual East and West situation going on there ;). And no matter how much fun was being made of me (Jennifer), I felt taken care of. Safe.
Special mention should be riding cars with boys from Chicago to Noblesville. I felt like I was in the back seat of an episode of An American Bromance. Oh, wait... All kidding aside, I felt blessed being a part of 120 hours of on going banter, music and hilarity, with room to spare for the occasional heartfelt talk. And beer. So. Much. Beer.
Conluding
- Chicago rules
- My American friends rule even more
- Maybe a little less beer, a bit more talk. And subsequently a little less kissing random strangers
- Don't drunk slip 'n slide
- Get back as soon as fucking possible
* Dutch expression, meaning: very few people
** Yes, I do still have mommy issues at 40
