Reflections on a Facebook Cleanse

In early October, I decided I was in need of a facebook cleanse, and challenged myself to not login for the next 30 days.  I posted a notification on my wall (which I found out was a bit cryptic for some) and let my "friends" know I would be gone for a while and to email and call me.  Some people thought this meant I was purging my friends list, while others understood I just simply needed a break. 

Obviously, I'm back online and posting this blogpost to facebook, but thought I'd share with you some of the things I learned over the course of the past month. 

1) I have no routine
For those of you who don't know, I spend a lot of my year traveling and have a hard time committing to things.  My job takes me all over the US/world (which I take full advantage of), but often find myself feeling as if I'm missing out on things.  I was away from home for a total of 8 weeks between May and September this summer, driving Boomer to NY to stay with his grandparents while I went to Europe twice and sought refuge volunteering at Manitou Experience in Maine.  

I was not (still am not) good at returning emails (sorry Red, I still owe you a long one!) or reaching out to people when I got back home.  I often felt overwhelmed when walking back in the house and thinking, okay, now back to reality, but what is my reality? 

2) I had a false sense of friendship

Oddly enough though, I still felt as if I was connecting with people and knew what was going on in their lives.  Because of facebook.  I was/am still more of a facebook voyeur, reading people's posts, following their updates, looking at their pictures, but never really responding or commenting.  I didn't feel the need to reach out and ask "how are you?" because I felt as if I already knew.  I could sit in front of the computer or on my phone for an hour and "catch up" with people.  But no words were ever spoken, no sounds were ever made besides the clicking of the keyboard, and I'd often find daylight bleeding into darkness and all those things on my to-do list getting put aside.  And I was feeling inadequate.  But, why?  Because everyone else's lives seemed happier, or more exciting, or because they were checking things off their to-do list?  Maybe, guilty is a better word, because I was wasting time and not getting anything out of it.

3) I was lonely and needed human interaction
Adding to all of this, I work from home.  So I'm either running at 150%, traveling, smiling, being nice to people, leading teams, fixing problems, etc or I'm home and sitting in my pajamas all day.  Quite the contrast.  While everyone else was coming home for the day and unwinding, I was looking for ways to get out of the house and to fulfill my need for human interaction.  I sign up for art classes and love my stained glass class on monday nights.  I look forward to my spring and fall tennis seasons because we practice every wednesday night.  But what about the other nights?  Could I go to the gym - of course.  But did I always make it?  No.  I'd find myself "playing" on the computer, checking facebook and then talking myself out of things.  I was again, wasting time. 

4) I needed a change
All of this lead up to the 30 day cleanse challenge.  I deleted the app off my phone and cleared my cookies/browser cache so if I slipped up, I'd be forced to login.  I admit, for the first week, I had a big urge to see what was going on, but after a while, that went away.  I made a list of things I wanted to get done and I started to push myself.  Believe me, it wasn't easy.  The introvert in me wanted to go back to the routine of quiet, but I forced myself to step outside my comfort zone.  I called neighbors and friends and went for walks.  I lingered at the dogpark longer and actually talked to people and got to know them by their name, instead of as "Wolfgang's Dad or Disa's Mom".  I went to the coffee shop, sat on the patio and worked outside for the afternoon (Boomer liked that).  I networked with work friends and went into the office.  I called friends I hadn't talked to in a while and actually had a long phone conversation.  Not via text or email, actual phone!  I went to lunch with friends during the day.  And I started to research my next career and the one after that.  I figured out how to fill gaps by volunteering.  And I'm in the process of applying to another grad school program.  

5) I did miss out on things
Was I feeling better?  Yes!  When my 30 days was up and I finally decided to log in and respond to the emails and friend requests I realized though that I was missing out on things.  Significant events in people's lives were occurring (happy and sad) and I didn't know about it.  I wasn't always seeing the pictures my family members were posting.  But on the flip side, people weren't communicating with me either outside of facebook.  Were they sending me pictures directly?  Not all the time.  Were people communicating difficult times directly via email.  Not always.  Was I missing out on an interesting article from NPR or updates from my Manitou Experience friends and fellow volunteers.  Absolutely!  I was feeling left out, but I was no longer feeling lonely about it or as if I was wasting my time.  I did question though, can I live in a world without facebook?  If everyone else is using this for communications, how can I not be included.  What would happen if I stopped it completely?

6) Is there a conclusion to all of this?
That's a good question.  I'm still trying to find my routine and figure out what a happy medium is for me.  I know that I want to keep in touch with people and feel connected and a part of their lives.  But I also know that I have started to build some bigger friendships with people face to face and outside of the social media world, and I like these better.  But I also don't want to be out of the loop.  How can I include social media in my life without it taking over my life.  How can I pick and choose and be in control?  For now, I'm still limiting my time on facebook and have gradually added it back in.  I log in every few days now, but not on a daily basis.  Am I missing things?  Yes.  Am I okay with that.  Absolutely! 

So if you'd read this far, I'd be interested in your opinion.  Would you be willing to take the 30 day challenge?  Do you find yourself contemplating a break from facebook?  

Oh the smells....

The last day and a half in Amsterdam were filled with sensory overload - smells, sights, and sounds.  There is an ever lingering smell of marijuana in the city, it's just always there but every once in a while you pass through a cloud of it that makes you look up and wonder where it's coming from.  Is it the person next to me, is it from the window on the second floor, or maybe it's the green lit coffee shop in front of me.  You momentarily ask yourself these questions and then you continue on where you were going. 

I was up early Sunday morning and was quite excited for my countryside bike tour.  It was raining, well sprinkling a bit so I armed myself with my raincoat and walked the 5 minutes to the bike place, passing people on their way back in for the night, beer cans in hand.  We loaded up on our Yellow Bikes (that's the name of the company) and proceeded to head across the ferry and north of the city into the "country".  Within about 10 minutes you are winding along canals on a bike path, past an old windmill and through fields with the most amazing floral smells.  It's hard to believe that you are still in the same city.  The tour was about 4 hours and covered about 30 km (about 18 miles) and stopped at picturesque little villages along the way and even gave us a chance to climb to the top of a 16th century church.  It was the highlight of the trip, allowing me to see just how diverse and healthy and amazing the landscape and people were.  The rain lasted for the first 30 minutes and cleared the way for beautiful blue skies and sunshine, a perfect day for bike riding. 

I made my way back to the hotel, and after taking a short nap decided to find an outdoor pub for a beer and some "chips" (french fries).  Guess all that biking made me crave some fries :-)  I hadn't been over to the Damraak part of town yet, so I walked over to a cute little pub right on the corner of a very busy canal.  As I sat drinking my beer I noticed a boat docked immediately across the canal, against a house with a small bench attached to the wall.  It's hard to explain, but basically the bench was floating over the water and boat was just hanging out underneath.  It was full of shirtless men, laughing and drinking and having a good time.  After about 5 minutes, one of the men, the oldest in the bunch (60s?) decided to strip down naked and jump in the canal.  The entire patio of the bar started giggling and staring.  I asked the waitress if this was normal and she said, well yes, it's a gay bar across the way and I said, they swim naked?  And she said, ohh, that's a first and started to laugh.  The man was giving us a show, he kept stopping boats along the way (this was a high traffic area too) and trying to pull himself into them.  He finally made his way back to his boat, climbed in (no tan line btw) and about 10 minutes later he and his party of 10 were off to the next canal.  I couldn't help but laugh, it was quite the spectacle. 

After dinner, I decided I needed dessert and googled a gelato place a few streets over.  I started to walk there and realized I was in the heart of the Red Light District.  It's hard not to pass by the windows with the lights on and glimpse at the "ladies" selling their "goods".  Most were a bit older and ragged and texting or playing on their phones.  One older lady (oh, in her 60s) with enormous boobs was quite animated and was having a laugh at two older female tourists walking by.  She looked at them gawking at her and shook her finger and her head as if to say, "no, no, not you two".  I grinned, they looked so embarrassed. 

In and out of the pot smells, into the gelato place filled with smells of warm belgian waffles I devoured my chocolate covered chocolate gelato waffle.  I figured I earned it after the biking and the beer and chips (there were veggies too in there).  Finally, I made my way back to the hotel to pack and get ready to leave in the morning.

I was up early, to make sure I had a chance to eat breakfast at the Cafe Winkel, famous for the their homemade apple cake.  After realizing the hotel had no hot water temporarily, I went for a walk (it was 8:30) and took in the last of the city.  I walked over to the cafe, past men smelling as if their evening had just ended, and along the canals, which were quiet as can be.  So this is what Amsterdam is like when no one is around.  It was a holiday, so the cafe which normally opens at 7, sadly didn't open until 10.  Back to the hotel it was, for a quick shower and then I headed back over for a quick apple cake before making my 11:15 train. 

I walked to the train thinking to myself, it's amazing the sensory overload you experience in such a beautiful city.  It's an interesting contrast, defying what you have been taught as wrong/right and putting them all in the same category.  Quite fascinating and somehow blending together into a peaceful, happy city.  I smiled as I thought, it was a super weekend and I don't know how going back to Paris could ever top it.

I boarded the train, and sat down and was hit with some more smells. This time I wasn't happy and I wasn't sure how I was going to make the 3.5 ride back to Paris.  I'll just kindly say that some cultures should learn to use personal hygiene products, such as deodorant and leave it at that.  Luckily I was able to squat in a seat a few rows up and escape the nauseatingness (and the crying baby in the row over).  It must not have been my day, because the train had some problems and we spent an hour in Antwerp while they "rebooted" the train before they had us switch to a new train in Brussels.  All to arrive 75 minutes late in Paris to pouring rain.  

So the Amsterdam weekend has come to an end and a successful weekend it was.  I'm already trying to figure out how to get back to be able to see more of Holland and it's neighboring countries.  Smells and all....

One more trip tomorrow to the Loire valley, then work on Wednesday and home on Thursday.  Feels like I've been here forever!! 

20,000 Steps....

I couldn't have asked for a better day yesterday! The weather was perfect, not a cloud in the sky (except for when it rained for 15 minutes around 2 pm), and the city was buzzing (haha, literally and figuratively).  I did a total of about 20,000 steps, give or take a few and thought I'd capture some of the highlights. 

I got up early and took a nice stroll in the sunshine over to the Noordmarket, a Saturday fruit/veggie/cheese/everything market.  I love to wander the local markets when I travel and pretend I have a kitchen and fridge to be able to buy whatever looks fresh and exciting.  Just as at home, it's strawberry season and I picked up a pint of local ones, which were quite smaller than I'm used to, but so sweet and flavorful.  I also grabbed a handful of cherries, literally, and the man behind the stand probably laughed at me because I only wanted about 30 of them.  I figured I'd at least start with the healthy stuff as I proceeded to the bakery stalls.  Oh how wonderful the breads and pastries looked.  Lots of seeds and brown breads and spelt and whole grains, I was in heaven!  I opted for a multigrain croissant (who knew?) and a cinnamon scone.  Mmm....

After purchasing a couple of skirts and ogling at the apple pie everyone was eating for breakfast, I wandered along the canals for another hour or so, meandering through the neighborhoods.  People were biking back from the markets with their bags full of bread and flowers and fresh fruit and veggies.  Or hanging out at the cafes reading the paper and drinking their coffee and chatting with their neighbors.  I had to remind myself I was in a big city, not a small town, but that's how it felt.    I knew I had a ticket for the Anne Frank house at 2:20 and had a couple of hours before needing to make my way over.  I decided that it was time to eat again and I found a great cafe/pub on a boat (supposedly the only one in the city?) and had a hummus sandwich and a white beer.  It's so easy to order beer - it's beer, white beer, or brown beer.  Fine with me :-)  I sat on the boat, in the sunshine, in the middle of a canal, in the middle of Amsterdam with a white beer, people watching and admiring the amazing architecture, life really couldn't have gotten better at that point. 

I dropped my stuff back at the hotel and walked over to the Anne Frank house.  I had bought my ticket online before (they have limited numbers they sell for specific times), and was glad I did as the normal wait was about 1.5 hours, with a quick sun shower to dampen things.  I buzzed the little door I was supposed to and was let in right away and entered the exhibit. 

Immediately I'm reminded that the happiness and warm vibe of the city wasn't always there, and that Amsterdam wasn't always a welcome place for all.  Had I been Anne Frank in 1942, I too would have been forced into hiding, hoping for one day being able to walk back out into the streets and not be persecuted for my religion and family heritage.  I walked through the house, thinking about how hard it would be to not be able to go outside, to stay quiet all day for fear of being found out, to know that people were allowed to be free.  I thought about how the family must have had such hope and trust in the Allied Forces and how D-day is still very real to a lot of people in France and Europe.  Unfortunately, Anne never knew about freedom as their cover was blown and she died in a camp 1 month before she would have been liberated.  It's a very humbling, emotional experience. 

I walked out of the museum a bit drained and in search of a cup of tea.  Somehow instead I ended up at Wynand Fockink, a 300 year old distillery of spirits and liqueur.  They have this gorgeous old tasting room, with a wall of about 40 different flavored liqueurs for you to try.  (Not my picture btw)


A bit overwhelmed and still feeling the drain of the museum earlier, the bartender (is that what you call him?) started me off with a sample (half a shot) of their oranje liqueur.  He gave me the history of the company, continued to let me sample 4-5 flavors and two full shot glasses later (these I paid for, passion fruit and oranje) I walked out feeling grounded again, warm and toasty and with a recommendation for an off the beaten path place for dinner. 

I got on the tram, as instructed by Hans (the bartender) heading towards the zoo, got off at the Artis stop and walked to the left over the bridge to the restaurant.  Not really sure how the paper coaster directions got me there, but I found a quaint little outdoor restaurant in a newer development area overlooking a canal, but it was full of locals and very quiet.  I continued my vegetarian diet for the day with refreshing gazpacho and a beet risotto with feta and chickpea/lentil falafel type things.  And of course a white beer.  It was so good and refreshing.  Just the clean eating feeling I needed after a day of lots of steps, heavy thinking and just enjoying the wonderful city. 

By this point I was getting tired and ready to call it a day.  I walked back to the tram stop, and saw it pulling away, I missed it by 10 seconds.  The next one was coming in 12 minutes so I decided to walk and follow the line until the next stop.  I noticed a supermarket on the way and stopped in for some water and remembered my friend Simona telling me to look for smoothies in the glass bottles.  I picked up a pineapple/orange/banana one for the morning.  I started following the tram line again and plugged in the hotel to my GPS.  It was 1.6 km away and I just figured, why not and I walked. 

By the time I got to my room my body was tired, my feet a bit achy (9 miles in new flip flops isn't recommended) and I thought to myself, damn, that was a good day, I sure saw a lot in 20,000 steps!  

Initial Impressions - Amsterdam

My first thought as I exited the train station in Amsterdam was  - Why haven't I visited here before?!  After a super smooth and fast train ride from Paris (about 3.5 hours), you arrive in Amsterdam Central station.  The station is right on the water (well, water is everywhere) and you are immediately greeted by thousands and thousands of bikes parked outside.  I carefully navigated my way across the bridge, figuring out you have to look both ways to make sure you don't get run over by a bicycle or tram, and found my hotel.  It's in a perfect location, one block away on a cute, old street.  I immediately noticed that everyone, even in shops, greet you in English to begin with.  And everyone is super friendly, I have yet to meet someone who hasn't smiled and started a conversation, such a happy city (and not just because of the legalized substances).

Michael, the front desk guy who checked me in, pulled out a map of the city and started to circle all the things I should do.  He's an expat from Philly who came here for vacation 25 years ago and decided to stay, and talked my ear off for about 10 minutes.  After getting settled in my room (it was around 3:30) I decided to head out and check things off of the list that Michael gave me.  (And Gijs and Simona too!) 

Talk about happy people everywhere!  It was a beautiful day and the start of a 3 day weekend (Monday is a public holiday) and people were out everywhere.  Every street/canal side cafe was filled and groups of drunken British stag and hen parties dressed up in outrageous outfits stumbled around (think Jane Fonda circa 1980 for one group and a large inflatable penis worn by the bachelor for the other).  Little boats filled with people traveled up and down the canals, just hanging out, the Dutch equivalent of a picnic.

I found my way to a medieval little courtyard with one of the only two still standing timber houses in the city, and admired the beautiful flowers at the Floating Flower Market.  There were so many bulbs I would have loved to have taken home, but I know if I did I'd probably end up in trouble with the customs agent.  Then it was off to weave my way around the De Negen Straatjes (The Nine Streets), getting away from the main area and loud partiers.  The first thing I noticed was the gorgeous architecture.  The buildings are all different, so narrow and tiny and impeccably maintained.  Flower boxes were in the windows, and I loved being able to peek in open curtains.  There were cute cafes lining the streets, boutique shops, and nice looking restaurants.  But I just wanted to be near the water.  Which isn't a problem with canals everywhere.

After a Thai curry for dinner, which tasted so good after all the heavy, rich french food, I took an hour long canal tour.  What a great way to see the city, learn a bit about the history and most of all get my bearings for where I was and what the city was all about.  After mapping out my plan of attack for the next day, I got into bed thinking, for only a few hours I sure did a lot!

Well, if that was a lot, then not sure what Saturday was!  According to Fitbit I'm an overachiever and managed to walk about 9 miles around the city.  But don't worry, I'll save you every detail of those 20000 steps for my next post .   :-)

The Little White Book

I had dinner tonight at a restaurant my parents ate at 42 years ago almost to the day.  It is the oldest restaurant in Paris, Le Procope, a famous hangout of Voltaire, Napolean, Ben Franklin and many others.  I went tonight, not because the food is spectacular (the Coq au Vin was so rich and sinful) or because the service is amazing (it was pretty bad actually, typical French), but because my Mom kept her Little White Book.  Or I should say, my Mom threw out the book and my Dad kept it.  He keeps everything! 

Before they were married, they took a 3 week vacation to France, where they split the costs, except for on Saturday nights, when my Dad treated.  My Mom had a little "travel book" (that's what it said on the cover) which had sections for expenses, weather, restaurants, etc.  She wrote down the date, where they ate and gave it a rating (she even wrote down when my Dad got sick, ha).  On June 1 or 2, they went to Le Procope and she gave it a B+.  When I was getting ready to return for the week, she kept saying she wished she had her book, but she threw it out years ago.  My Dad chimed in from the other room, no you didn't, I have it.  So after a quick Tripadvisor search we realized that the restaurant was still there and of course I had to go.  I'm sure they will appreciate the pictures, as the inside probably hasn't changed in the last 50 (200!) years.  :-)

But what is even more fascinating is that they planned a 3 week European vacation using only guidebooks and mail reservations.  I don't know what I would have done this week without the Internet, specifically Tripadvisor and Yelp.  As soon as I decided to stay for the week, I immediately spent an hour booking hotels, researching things to do, where to eat, and mapping out my plan of attack.  What took me an hour, probably took my Dad days. 

I wandered through the Tuileries this morning, past the Louvre, and finally found a seat in the sun in front of a fountain in the Palais Royal gardens.  I picked up my phone and found where I was (did you know GPS is the most amazing thing?), and searched for someplace to eat.  Forget paper maps, you just need to tell Tripadvisor to search the best near you and Voila!, the best crepes in Paris!  I meandered through old passages and indoor galleries and eventually made my way up Rue de Martyrs to Montmarte and the Sacre Coeur, where I sat in a pew and rested. 

Now, I'm not a religious person, but there is something moving and humbling about sitting in a church in a foreign country, reflecting and absorbing the moment.  I thought about the people that had sat in my seat in the past 100 years, about my parents wandering around France with their Little White Book and nothing else.  I thought about how I would never in a million years have guessed I would be sitting here, thankful for a great job that let's me experience amazing adventures. 

As I made my way back through the hustle and bustle of Montmartre, through the square with sooo many portrait sketchers (it was like a flea market of people painting and drawing and offering to paint your portrait, such a zoo), I stopped at an older man painting flowers.  They were just so beautiful, the colors and the textures were amazing.  Without even thinking I picked up one with purple flowers (of course) and I said I'll take it.  He carefully placed it in between two pieces of cardboard to help ensure its safe journey home and I thanked him for helping to create a lasting memory.  I told him I'll frame it nicely when I get home and hang it in a special place, and smile each time I pass it, remembering my wanderings through Paris.  I'll remember the warmth of the sunshine, the sound of the crowd milling around, the chills I got from sitting in the church and most of all, how my parents were there too 42 years ago.  :-)