Label me Amsterdam

I was labeled today. In the same breath, a friend of mine told me I'm no smarter than a five-year-old child or Hillary Clinton.

I didn't know exactly how to take this -- was it a compliment or an insult? I have defensive tendencies, so I chose the latter and argued that I'm definitely smarter than a child. He asked me how, I said something like there is no way I'm going to start a debate as to why I'm more knowledgeable than a kid.

"Ah yes, perhaps you know more, but are you really smarter?"

Welcome to Amsterdam, the place where adults can wax in circles about strange ideologies and get away with it, because, well, that's just what weed does to people. But all stoner talk aside, I've been living in Amsterdam for almost four months now and have barely written. I'm hoping this blog will keep my skills, however much skill I actually have, intact. So heregoes...

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I was labeled a social butterfly. Again, I took minor defense to this. Let's face it, calling someone a social butterfly makes you think of a creature that flies in the air somewhat retarded like because they have poor sight. The creature also gets carried away in the wind, splattered on car windows and chased by dogs.

Add the social aspect, and you have a creature that not only flies like a drunk, but also talks like one in an even more absent-minded way. Not to mention, butterflies are cute from afar, but the body is frightening, especially to children. I know it wasn't meant like this, it was just on my mind.

Maybe it's true anyway. I can't see without contacts and lately the wind has been blowing me and my skirt around way too often. I've managed to avoid car windows, but there are many, many ugly dogs in Amsterdam that make me a little hesitant to walk next to. Plus, I've been known to slur out nonsense, which probably frightens children...

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I was labeled a capitalist. When I'm in a situation, the first thing I think about is how to make a buck. It's because I'm American and have been brought up in a capitalist environment, unlike many Europeans. Supposidly.

First off, when I'm in a situation, the first thing I think about it what the hell is going on. It usually never involves me making money, it involves me spending money, and so I'm a poor college student who needs a job. The last time I had an opportunity to make a buck was an hour ago when my flatmate Luke bet me five Euros Jamie Lee Curtis was a hermaphrodite. Which, I'm not so sure I won.

I am an American, however, and maybe am more susceptible capitalist to thinking than others. For example, I'm learning the harmonica right now in hopes to one day join a bum on the street to jam with and experience what it's like to have coins tossed at me.

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In the end, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't like being labeled. In a city like Amsterdam that thrives in individuality, I never expected to experience this very often. My name is Audrey Sykes, that's the truest label I know.