I live in Amsterdam.
Aug. 28th, 2008 07:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jacktellsliesDarlings, may I break continuity once again to tell you how very good you are?
I believe, although I am not certain, that progress has been made on my struggle to return to the UK. (I've not yet even spoken to any representatives of the British government, but I believe I've now assembled all of the evidence I need to make my case.) But this doesn't exactly concern that.
When I showed up on my wonderful former host Paul's doorstep weeping on the night that I was sent away from Cardiff, he very kindly allowed me to stay the night even though far too many boys were already staying there and he really had no room to spare. The next day he recommended I call his friend Dogmar. She is Austrian and beautiful. She is studying modern theatre dance here in Amsterdam, but she is not meant for cities. She is very sweet, and she loves organic food. Her roommate Lara is Dutch and beautiful and loves the Smiths enough to listen to them nearly constantly. I also love the Smiths far more than is reasonable, and encourage and enjoy her incessant Smiths-listening. For this reason she decided that I should stay as long as I like.
Dogmar is allergic to something in the house, and for this reason was searching for a new place to live. Several of the people with whom I've been couch surfing have been telling me about how completely impossible it is to find a flat in Amsterdam. It really can't be done. I feel terrible for those people I've met who are searching. Dogmar was becoming exceedingly upset when I decided that someone who'd done me a great kindness shouldn't be so sad.
The next day she was offered a place as a house sitter. For one month she has time to continue her search, free rent, two cats named after comic books to love, and a big house in a perfect location.
I'd not considered this as a logical consequence of that arrangement at all, but her room is now free. It's a beautiful place with hardwood floors, windows facing the street, and interesting detailing in the woodwork. And Lara needs a new roommate and someone to help cover the cheap rent.
So that person is me, but only for exactly as long as I'd like it to be. I have a home. Although I'm not at all ready to return to the States just yet, I was really getting tired of moving every few days, of hauling my things, of never being able to buy more food than I could eat in a day or more warm clothes than I could carry. I'd desperately wanted to stay still. I wanted simultaneously to be paying my own way so as not to be beholden to anyone, and to be comfortable. I wanted a home, not a hostel. I wanted something that was mine. But I had no real hope for it. Knowing the impossibility of finding a place to live here I'd not considered searching. Not only do I have a room, and a bed, but I'm free to leave whenever I like. I pay rent by the week.
The world is strange and beautiful, and you dears are very, very good.
I believe, although I am not certain, that progress has been made on my struggle to return to the UK. (I've not yet even spoken to any representatives of the British government, but I believe I've now assembled all of the evidence I need to make my case.) But this doesn't exactly concern that.
When I showed up on my wonderful former host Paul's doorstep weeping on the night that I was sent away from Cardiff, he very kindly allowed me to stay the night even though far too many boys were already staying there and he really had no room to spare. The next day he recommended I call his friend Dogmar. She is Austrian and beautiful. She is studying modern theatre dance here in Amsterdam, but she is not meant for cities. She is very sweet, and she loves organic food. Her roommate Lara is Dutch and beautiful and loves the Smiths enough to listen to them nearly constantly. I also love the Smiths far more than is reasonable, and encourage and enjoy her incessant Smiths-listening. For this reason she decided that I should stay as long as I like.
Dogmar is allergic to something in the house, and for this reason was searching for a new place to live. Several of the people with whom I've been couch surfing have been telling me about how completely impossible it is to find a flat in Amsterdam. It really can't be done. I feel terrible for those people I've met who are searching. Dogmar was becoming exceedingly upset when I decided that someone who'd done me a great kindness shouldn't be so sad.
The next day she was offered a place as a house sitter. For one month she has time to continue her search, free rent, two cats named after comic books to love, and a big house in a perfect location.
I'd not considered this as a logical consequence of that arrangement at all, but her room is now free. It's a beautiful place with hardwood floors, windows facing the street, and interesting detailing in the woodwork. And Lara needs a new roommate and someone to help cover the cheap rent.
So that person is me, but only for exactly as long as I'd like it to be. I have a home. Although I'm not at all ready to return to the States just yet, I was really getting tired of moving every few days, of hauling my things, of never being able to buy more food than I could eat in a day or more warm clothes than I could carry. I'd desperately wanted to stay still. I wanted simultaneously to be paying my own way so as not to be beholden to anyone, and to be comfortable. I wanted a home, not a hostel. I wanted something that was mine. But I had no real hope for it. Knowing the impossibility of finding a place to live here I'd not considered searching. Not only do I have a room, and a bed, but I'm free to leave whenever I like. I pay rent by the week.
The world is strange and beautiful, and you dears are very, very good.
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-28 06:27 pm (UTC)That is an astoundingly unlikely coincidence which, on reflection, seems inevitable.
Ambrose Bierce, in his Devil's Dictionary, defines "pray" thusly:
To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner confessedly unworthy.
I have come to understand that your life itself is a prayer of sorts, and that the universe has and shall continue to behave in gloriously unlikely ways in your presence.
Thank you for permitting us to bear witness.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-28 06:37 pm (UTC)I don't often admit it, because it doesn't seem particularly graceful to say it out loud, but I understand that as my purpose. I bend the rules for myself to show that it is possible. I want more divine chaos in the world, more beauty, more people daring to be strange and perfect and whatever it is they'd wish to be if they allowed themselves to wish, let alone be.
You're the one who should be thanked. Without you I'd have run home weeping five days ago, if not before.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-28 06:44 pm (UTC)"Without you I'd have run home weeping five days ago, if not before."
Fortunately, I am fat enough that my shoulder extends across the oceans.