Yesterday, I said to M "I just haven't felt terribly inspired lately by anything... what the heck should I write on my blog?"

Luckily -- just moments ago -- I remedied that situation.

I finally (finally!) decided I had packed enough goodies into my parent's Christmas box. Um, yeah, I know... I'm a tad late... but now it's their anniversary and I knew I had to get this thing on its merry way to the Verenigde Staten. (that's Dutch for the United States -- say: fair-ain-hihg-da sta-ten) Anyhoo... I looked at M and said "hmmm... wonder if that box is gonna fit in my backpack?" (said in a doubtful voice... really just hoping he'd say "No way, sweetie, why don't you just take the car?")

This, of course, did not happen. He said "Well, you won't know unless you try." So, I tried. No go. The box of goodies is too big. (see Mom... see Dad... it's late, but it's big, so that makes up for it, right?) I said "well, I guess I could take the car...???"

"No, no... I have a nice big bag here and this is part of your integration into Dutch culture. You can bike with your big box in this big bag."

(please note: M is sitting here as I write this and he is protesting loudly about how I'm making him look. Let me just say, I am coloring this just a little bit to make it funnier. He WILL let me use the car whenever I want. It's just that he respects me -- and yes, maybe even loves me -- a little bit more when I'm a good Dutch girl and use my bike.)

I said "You're right. I'm ready for advanced biking. No problem."

So, I left -- me, my bike, my big box in my big bag. We biked happily together to the local grocery store to get even more goodies to send to Ma and Pa Daley. Then, it was off to the post office to send the big box on his way. This is where my day took a turn south.

After navigating my way with the big box in the big bag, I arrived in front of the post office -- the closed post office. You know how people in the States dash out during lunch to mail things... well... apparently, the Dutch haven't gotten that memo because at the exact same time a working person (yeah, I know, not me) has the time to mail something is the exact same time the Dutch post office says "hmmm... it's time to eat. Let's close so we can go get some Gouda, herring and Heineken."

But wait, it gets better. Oh yes, MUCH better.

Defeated, I decide to bike home and come back to the post office later in the day. I climb on my bike, swing myself into traffic and start peddling.

Oh hey... grunt... gasp... arrrggghhh... this is kinda hard. The wind is pushing against me, my bike and my big box in a bag... this big bag is acting kinda like a sail... and not in the good way. Finally, I get a little speed going and I decide it would be a really excellent idea to move the big box in its big bag in front of me -- you know sorta perched on my handle bars -- so the drag is a bit less.

You know how you get an idea in your head and you know that's it kinda stupid and yet you still do it anyway?

Within seconds, the Dutch biking gods had decided that this silly little American girl needed to learn a lesson. Oh yes, who does she think she is? She must have a "learning experience" so she understands there are certain biking laws we do not break. See those bushes lining the road? Yes. Let's put her in them. Oh yes, that would be good. Very good. But wait... see those 5 young men walking on the sidewalk towards her? Yes. Let's make sure they are close enough to get a really good look at her while she careens wildly into those bushes. Should we hurt her? No, nooooo... let's just toss her in there and really embarrass her. Afterall... this is just a lesson and we don't want her to be afraid to get back in the saddle again.

After, I pulled myself out of the bushes and laughed in that really high-pitched giggly way that means "heh heh... um... aren't I just so silly? (I want to die) hee... hee... see everyone, I'm okay! Really! (oh god, who saw that? Did those guys see me? oh god, please let the sidewalk open up and swallow me right now), I calmly straightened out my bike light which really shouldn't point straight down at the ground and walked me, my bike and my big box in a big bag home.

Just as I was about to turn the corner into my apartment complex, a Dutch girl biked by me carrying a bag that was almost twice the size of mine. And she was wearing high heels.

Sigh.