I have a confession to make...-

I am a homebody. Sorry, its true. Needless to say I love to travel; this trip, however, is going to test my every limit of patience.

I have the tendency of being a slow packer, the idea of leaving seems vague until I'm either about to go through security or boarding the plane. So it's no wonder that, well things are going to go a little crooked.

We (my mom, my dad and I) left our apt. at 8:00ish PM, rushed out the door a little but all seemingly well and everything in order. When we get to the airport, we run into our first blip of the trip. My grand-pa put both his bags in the plane (not having a carry-on). He's a diabetic, so there are certain meds that need to be taken, should anything happen to the bags we would be in a bit of a mess. We push that aside, not much you can do there. We go for a quick bite to eat.

While walking the winding isles towards security I finally figured out what I was missing. Well S*@#t I forgot the body Nikon D5100 camera at home (my 55-300 mm lens being in my bag). My palms start sweating there. Parents say "we'll figure it out, just get on the plane".

Besides the plane to Amsterdam being not surprisingly uncomfortable it goes without a hitch (my mind still reeling and completely in tears by the fact that I forgot the body of the camera -the one thing in my young naive teenage mind that reallllly counts). We get off the plane breeze through customs - side note: Dutch police men are very handsome. Here comes crisis #3. Our bags were shipped to Africa without us.

A problems for numerous reasons: 1) Change of clothes? 2) I also put my toiletries and meds in my suitcase- I was rushing. At least I hope they're in my suitcase. . . 3) Its just not fair. At this point, I'm having a hard time keeping it together. My grand-father tearing through the airport and train station (although no pictures just picture the main terminal in Paris).

We get to the hotel. The first thing I do when I get to my room is cry. What can I do? I'm frustrated and sad that nothing is going as planed. My parents get the full brunt of my unhappiness, I'm still having a hard time being rational. To me, my camera was everything to this trip. Still is. Trust me, I will what I can as a spoiled art child to obtain a rental Nikon D5100.

Grand-pa and I take a break from each other. Finally 2 1/2 hours after getting to the hotel, I get the balls to go out to the shopping area to buy some makeup. I quickly return, apply it and head back out slightly more confident then before (trying to push out all bad happenings).

I've never been to Amsterdam before, or anything like it. The scenery is beautiful and charming; from the canals to the crooked houses it really is nothing short of pretty and maybe a bit dainty. That is until you add the people and the smells. Depending on where you are you either get a whiff of the canal, restaurants or weed. The smell of weed waftes out from the small winding alleyways where young and old alike sit and smoke hookah. I'm still pretty wound up at this point so I got myself a ticket to a canal tour- I forgot to mention, I bought 2 disposable cameras along the way. As I wind down and listen to the history of Amsterdam and finish off disposable #1 the lack of sleep creeps in.

I basically crawl back to the hotel.

I wake up Grandpa at 7:15 for dinner. He walked around and had lunch... I was too busy being my stressed self at that point. So dinner was mainly for me. We went to a dutch restaurant called Humphreys. It was a strange combination of food; from Italian, to Asian to New Yorker styled steak but the melange was pretty good. It was a long dinner filled with debates (not unusual for us- I had three rules no talking about Homosexuality, Religion or Politics- we stuck with medicine).

At 10:00PM we split to retire to our rooms. I quickly began getting upset out the camera- not gonna hide that. . . once fixated its hard for me to un-fixate. Stress before bed is never good. Like I said at the beginning- I am a homebody- further meaning, I get violently "homesick". Literally, I get nauseated. I do well to keep my mind off of bed and I re-pack my stuff but honestly so tired at 11:00 I snuggle into bed. I thought I had fought off this childhood problem with junior year.

Which leaves me here writing this first disastrous entry at 1:50:07 AM. Stress creeped up to me while half-asleep. Shaking and sweating a shower is the only thing that calms the immediate stress- but the fear of falling back asleep is horrible. If this is all garble, Ill write a more coherent entry tomorrow.

Sometimes, life just doesn't work out the way you wanted it. I quote my friend Robert "Life isn't a bitch, it's a crack-whore." So now I will brave the fears of sleep and homesickness with that thought in mind and with the hopes that tomorrow will be better.