When in Rome...

The days don't start until 14:30 and they don't end until 5:30. What a lifestyle. Eating is optional and beer is obligatory. Residence in Toronto, back when I lived with nuns, is nothing like residence in Maastricht. Thank god. It seems like everyone is called Marco and comes from Italy which makes it easier to remember names. Besides the heavy Italian influence, there are also some Americans, French, Hungarin, Norwegian, German and Irish students that Erin and I spend most of our time with. We went to an Italian restaurant with the Italians last night then bar after bar after bar. someone had rented a nine-seater van so when we'd had enough to drink/smoke/eat, we went careening through the streets of Maastricht over cobblestones and possibly a cat. acceptable losses.
I woke up this morning ... err... afternoon at the early hour of 14:00. Marco 1 had stopped by at 9:00 to try and convince me to go to Utrecht to --get this-- a pot-growers competition. all the best coffeehouses in Netherlands bring their goods and they have a smoke-off or something. I decided to pass in favour of waiting by the phone for the airline to call. My prudence was rewarded because at 15:00, my long lost bag arrived. The security was tight. I had to play a guessing game with the driver instead of just showing my ID the old-fashioned way. all's well that ends well.
Tonight, Marco 2 (seriously there are about 7 Marcos) has invited Erin and I for coffee (actual liquid this time) and dinner. Looks like we'll be having Italian again. Fine by me.