This is a gist of several ramblings that I intended to post on my blog, but never did. The reason is simple: these ramblings pop up into my head during long runs. When I get home, the moment is gone. 

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If you stumble upon my little blog, you'll probably notice that I am a web programmer. Although I am wary about mixing work and downtime too much, I am working on a hobby project of mine, using the exact same tools and frameworks that I use for work. This is a great difference compared to my previous job, in which programming actually felt like a punishment. Read on if you want to know what made me change my mind on programming in the weekends.

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Since our vacation is officially over, consider this an unexpected appendix. I decided to write a blog post about the events of the last days of our holiday, but since we are neither in the Deep nor the South anymore, one could argue that it would not do to include it in the official series.

This blog post is about the flights home. We were supposed to board in Atlanta and catch the flight to Amsterdam in Newark. Although the airport of Newark has some nice views of the New York skyline, I am sorry to say that I have seen too much of it.

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This post should actually be titled "How to behave like an ass in Dutch traffic, and get away with it". However, one important part of this rant will not be mentioned, and that is survival in the broader sense of staying sane. 

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After leaving the somewhat bland state of Florida, we returned to Georgia for the final leg of our journey. We instantly felt more at home. The plan was to visit Savannah, somehow spend our flexday and head back to Atlanta to return the Frankentaxi and fly back home.

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