Monday, January 8th

Back in the netherlands. Landed at Schiphol 3 weeks ago, feeling very sad, and very happy to see B again. Amsterdam was grey and uninviting, the people who did not help me with my suitcases in the tram (until I nearly fell on top of them, then they held up their hands to stop me falling) very un-American. I wanted to take B back on a return flight to Coventry. And I so wanted to see the house, but felt so tired and depressed and weird that I dropped into bed for 1.5 hours and then felt up to it. The house (my German family feels I should call it a flat, but it feels like a house to me), is wonderful, truly great. So light, feels very cosy, lovely staircase, great living room, 3 rooms that are a little less nice, and then 2 more upstairs + bathroom (nice, fashionable) and the roof terrace. I really feel like living there – if only someone else would pull down the wall (or not?) and put down the wooden floor…We hope to move in in March.
This is my 6th day in Amsterdam, after 4 days I left for Switzerland. I did not feel like going, wanted to spend just a little more time in Amsterdam getting used to my normal life again and see my friends (whom I could not see the first few days due to box unpacking and mortgage business). Luckily my family was in Switzerland. Got there and went out with my cousin and got fairly drunk – having a great time in the bar, bar empty, we were just asking the bar man why he was not playing the nice music anymore, he explained he was trying to close up. Then my cousin’s phone rings, it is my mother wondering whether I am OK because I have not come home yet... I turned pinkish red and explain to my cousin and the barman, both greatly enjoying the situation, that this had not happened to me since I was a teenager (not even then I don’t think). We get the rest of my drink in a plastic cup (I regretted finishing it off the next day) and made our way outside, to collapse laughing in the middle of the village street. I made my way home, and imagine the greater embarrassment of having a little topple in the bathroom and mother knocking on door and asking whether I was ok, she had heard such a horrible clonk. I finally ended up in bed, and discovered a bit of a bump on my head the next morning. The rest of the holiday was great, less alcohol (for some reason did not feel like it..), lots of fun and talking to family. The laughed at my Connecticut fotos, having expected fotos of New York Boston, Coventry etc., not as my cousin put it “350 dog fotos and 50 fotos of hikes and surroundings”. I think they are great.
Today first day back at work. J has been sending me such kind e-mails that I would much have preferred driving my car to Storrs to see him today. As I step off the train, very early, given my New Years resolution to finish my dissertation within less than 1.5 years, I meet my roommate. She did not look that pleased to see me, turns out she and other roommate had agreed to be there early to hang up party decorations for me… Awfully sweet, I felt very welcome. All other colleagues were very sweet and welcoming, was great to see them again, and really nice to have lunch with people again, as opposed to lunch on my own behind the computer. My supervisor did not quite register I was back, but the other reactions really helped. And, on my desk was a book I had asked J to sign for me. He wrote such nice complimentary things to me that I had to reread it 4 times in the course of the day + take it home to show to B. Really made my day, felt very proud. Otherwise did not get round to much, had lots of cups of tea, talking to people, opening post, organizing CT papers etc. Nice first day back, but also scary, I hope I can keep on enjoying my work as much as I did in Connecticut, even with my old (and not very well loved) studies and without J’s supervision.