Dusseldorf, 20 Dec.

 I arrived at the train station late morning, around 11. It was a 20 minute walk to the hostel. I checked in, dropped my bag in the luggage room and fixed the Glass Museum on my navigator. It was raining and the museum a 45-minute walk but to me that is easier than figuring transit. I took few pictures on the way there to avoid delay - I had glass to see dammit. When I left the glass palace there was an hour of daylight left so really this whole paragraph is just setting you up to see some crap photos of some beautiful things I saw in bad light and me with a decent photo editor and crap vision.
All that adds up to something I suppose.

At night I walked through the crowds, tryin to find Christmas.

Found a ferris wheel 😊

Neon benches. All was missing was eighties music.

These are cookie cutters. I looked for a cookie cutter cookie cutter. There had to be one.

Look closely. Look up.

I'm sure I've formed a picture of this very train station while reading a story, somewhere, some time.

Let me explain. In the daytime, I asked what in hell a trpoical oasis was doing in the middle of busy, gray, urban, functional D'Dorf. Then at night, despite the crap photo, I understood. Or, at least I made up my own reason

"Because"

The Glass Museum, Dusseldorf. 20 Dec

If we were connected via facebook during the past few years you may recall (and if you shuttered it from your mind then I do apologise in advance for resurrecting the beast) my posting hundreds of photos of paperweights. Glass paperweights from one of the Smithsonian exhibitions. I love colored glass so much that I want to marry a piece, which would have the added benefit of calling to question that revered and curious institution as well. But never mind the rant.
The Hentrich Glass Collection at the Museum Kunstpalast was recommended to me shortly before my departure and it was the first place I walked to after dropping my bag off at the hostel. For great photos click the first link; to politely endure my family vacation photos, scroll down.

No Evictions

Was reading through some general legal stuff in the Netherlands. I then checked it with a friend of mine tonight after the meeting.

In Amsterdam anyway (haven't double checked to see if it's national or regional law), a rental agreement can only be ended by the tenant.The landlord can raise the rent by 2% annually, but my source says few do. Huh?

The impact of that is still growing in my mind. Imagine - so long as one adheres to the rental agreement, one can never be evicted. That blows me away. In America, evictions now have their own industry. Check out Matthew Desmond's book on the evictions industry. I could write a long blog about it but I stepped away from homework to post this fascinating difference between America and here. The precarity of my life is my habitus, my doxa - the water in which this fish swims. I never see it until someone asks me how the water is. Retirement? Job security? A place to live? Basic health care? I, as a single and now over-50 female, with no family and at present no employment, am a free-faller, the riskiest of the risk-takers. It doesn't feel like a risk. Americans cherish freedom, right? Freedom to create our own lives, work where we want, right?

Or is this just all imagined, fed into me during my indoctrination period, so that the precarious reality of an employer-favored system will feel like a set of my own choices?

In other news, I painted my nails tonight.