On things I need, and, consequently, some I don't

Hours after I opened and titled this blog, I am finally adding some content.

Not long after my Wednesday tripping spree some conspicuous bruises sprouted all over my right leg, and since most of the weekend was lovely sunny weather, I got to parade around like the victim of an abusive relationship. On the same note of things that should not have happened, I cut my hair today. It looks like... well I like to think of my hairs as very independent. There are chunks that have a mind of their own and just kind of stick out no matter how I try to arrange them or battle them down with bobby pins. The way I see it, it would be quite hypocritical of me to ask my hair to be tamed, so I'm coming to terms with this style.

I've been thinking too much for the past week and way too much this evening. 'About what?' you might say, (assuming that you exist and are able to speak), and the answer is: about many things. I am feeling, for lack of a more descriptive term, restless. When I start to feel this way, I begin re-evaluating my life, and inevitably find areas where I want some change. The thing here is that, instead of acting like a sane person, I decide to change my whole life. If I don't like my hair I decide it's a good idea to shave my head and go wig shopping. If I'm not satisfied with my life as a student I decide that a good remedy would be to drop my IR courses and study Russian and Teaching English as a Foreign Language and move to Moscow. When I'm feeling (tonight) unsure about a lot of things, I start thinking that I could sell my ticket back to California and use the money to buy a nice backpack and load it up with my journal and some diet coke and head into the jungle to find myself.

Just a short mix and match, (I'm sure there's been some list-withdrawal happening in my absence).

1. Don't be condescending
2. You won't be here in 100 years.
3. What if some one was watching?
4. iced tea with Splenda
5. Fatima

1. Be sure you'd do the same.
2. Some perspective when you get wrapped up in your own world.
3. My favorite beverage.
4. I can't wait to be.
5. I'll have trouble not holding it against you.

Yay! Good luck!

I Am Falling Down, Down, Down

Hola!

I was on blogging hiatus, (which I don’t know if I can say, since I had only blogged for about two months to begin with), but now I return. I’m not even going to try to mention all the things in detail that I have done in the past month or so, but rest assured I have done some things. I have come to terms with the fact that I have less than 5 weeks remaining in Budapest before my flight back to San Francisco. I feel very ready to go home, but at the same time I am still happy and enjoying Budapest. I feel like being ready to go home is going to make this a smooth transition and not so difficult as if I were to be clinging to Budapest. 

On an exciting note, put your hand in the air if you fell IN PUBLIC, not once, but TWICE, today. Don’t tell me your hand’s not in the air… We know mine is. Yes, you read correctly. I fell down twice this morning, in the span of about 30 minutes. No alcohol was involved, just my own special recipe of slippery sandals, smooth concrete, and a desire to embarrass myself to the point of tears. The first incident occurred on a sidewalk on the way to school when I slipped, and then slipped again to end up completely on the ground, bag splayed on the sidewalk next to me. The second incident took place as I was going up the stairs to class. I was almost to the top of the third and final flight when my sandal clipped the edge of the stair and I went down. Hard. On my knee. Yes, there were spectators. Yes, I embarrassingly squeaked, “Excuse me!”, then laughed a quick nervous laugh and told them (strangers!), that I was fine. The first fall made me laugh quite a bit, but the second one was a little overkill. Really, how much self-depreciating humor can a girl handle before 12pm?

Aside from that, I started reading Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist last night only to realize that I had already read it. Hm! I did decide to keep going though, and it’s a nice story.

As for the rest of life: I have 2 more weeks of class, 1 week of finals, and 1 week to say my final farewell to Budapest, before my flight at 7am. 7 AM! I plan to study and write papers, appreciate my friends as much as I possibly can, and truly be grateful for this time in my life. Then it’s back to California!

Home, Sacramento, then…. Costa Rica?

Oh also, check me out: La fille boie.

Google translate that shizzle.

Yes, things have gotten quite exciting since I brought Rosetta Stone in my life. It's only a matter of time before a seduce a very rich French man and he decides I am his muse and buys me a Hermes bag. Or luggage set.

Alright, that’s enough for now. I don’t want to overload all of my readers. I know I probably blew some minds today by coming out of writing hibernation.

Peace!

You should've known by now, you were on my list...

I am going crazy!

My list:
WRITE A NEW BLOG
detox the winter comfort food out of my body
get this midterm over with
don't miss another class
send future emails
make a schedule
enjoy Budapest
pack for Warsaw

go.

On Self-Knowledge

"You would know in words that which you have always know in thought."


I am searching for the words.

"You Don't Know How Lovely You Are"

Hello, hello and welcome to my Sunday!

Thursdays have always been my favorite day of the week, mainly because they are so close to the freedom of the weekend. You may wonder, 'why not Friday then?'. Well, being the planning freak that I tend to be, I prefer Thursdays because that's when I traditionally like to make my weekend plans. Anyway, though I do love my Thursdays, I am also quite fond of Sundays. There are a few reasons for this. First of all, Sunday is the most free of all days, in my opinion. Since most people run on a Monday-Friday schedule with Saturday and Sunday being the two open days, the weekend represents a break from work and school and time for leisure activities. But of course- we all know this. Because the day after Sunday is a work day, Sunday has come to embody more of a day for resting, recovering, and for me: planning, catching up, and preparing for the week ahead. There's something about Sunday that motivates me like no other day. It's when I am my most efficient. It's when I do my above-and-beyond cleaning, (really, who scrubs the wall ABOVE the shower??), when I do most of my homework, plan for the week ahead, organize things, shop, and do everything that I put off during the week. It's also my day when I feel like I can start new things as well. It's a very "fresh" day in my opinion. Anyway, the moral of this short story is that I am very appreciative of this Sunday, and all the Sundays to come, and am very much looking forward to another weekly burst of productivity.

While at Luton airport last week, (Tuesday?), I decided to look around one of the convenience shops and spent some extra time looking over the books section, mainly because there was an unusually large selection of English books. Just one of the many perks of traveling within England : ) Anyway, I ended up buying four books, (all nonfiction), and the one that I have started reading is quite interesting. It is a book about eating, people's relationships with food; some of the science behind cravings, diets, and hunger; and other related topics and studies. I have finished the first part of the book and the second part moves on to a journal type situation encouraging the reader to adopt certain tactics in their attitudes toward food and eating and document any changes in their physical and/or emotional health that these tactics set into motion. I must say, I am very interested to see if the simple yet radical changes proposed have the effects the author claims they will have. Anyway, today being Sunday, I believe it's a great day to begin, so we will see.

I've been feeling so creative in the last few days. Something I'm just beginning to realize is that at my most creative, I tend to feel more isolated than when I'm not feeling so creative. I wonder, is this typical of most people? It seems that it could be a product of the feelings of creativity making a person feel unique and thus slightly more set apart from others... Either way, though I welcome bursts of creativity, I don't care for the sensation that I'm alone. It just opens the door to homesickness... But that's that.

Today I have:

made deviled eggs

read

organized some of my favorite quotes

listened to an astounding amount of OneRepublic

I miss California. I miss Mom and Dad and coast and sun. See you in 4 months!

Farewell.

"There Ain't No Good Guy, There Ain't No Bad Guy, There's Only You and Me and We Just Disagree"

I am back in Budapest! I arrived late Tuesday night, just in time to go out Wednesday, and foolishly withdraw the second part of my rent money before engaging in a vicious snowball fight in the streets outside Szimpla and effectively losing my purse and its contents in their entirety. That loss aside, the heaters are now fixed in the flat which means I can now comfortably frolic barefoot anywhere in the flat without worrying about cold toes! Thursday I set to work on canceling my credit/debit cards and trying to rectify some of my other losses (license, i.d.s, transport pass, etc). We had a delicious crepe lunch during which I contemplated what I lost, and what I still have, and had barely any trouble deciding that I won't dwell on the losing of my purse. With that decision made, I grabbed all of my freshly-written to-do lists and headed to Neil's to charge my computer, (my charger had stopped working). When I finally arrived at Neil's good luck struck again: my charger started working! We later set off to make another set of keys to replace mine, and after finding the place to be closed decided to cut our losses and make some mashed potatoes instead, so that's exactly what we did. They were delicious and I fell asleep ten minutes into the Hangover which is a successful night in my opinion.

Tonight I just want to lay in bed and read and dream, but it IS a Friday and the amount of peer pressure in Budapest is immense... let me tell you. We'll see how it goes...

My travels!

Amsterdam was a pleasant surprise- I had been expecting dark, scary streets, but was delighted to find pretty snow and bright blue sky as well as a very tourist-friendly city. I found a great flea market where I finally bought the headphones I have been needing, (too bad I lost them in my purse). Our hostel was okay but we slept below a couple that almost NEVER left the room and I did find it a bit awkward, especially when we came back to the room flying high after a trip to one of the coffee shops. I did some shopping here too, which is always a pleasure.

Brussels made me one happy girl. We only spent a few hours out in the city but the people were warm and welcoming and I can't wait to travel to other parts of Belgium and see if this is a general trend. The waffles were delicious, if even a bit too sweet. The beer was tasty, (I think that means a lot coming from the opposite of a beer fan!). We also bought some chocolate, of course, which I later tried and deemed tasty.

London captured my heart. The Londoners, the streets, the buildings, the shopping, it's all for me. We did a small pubcrawl which was absolutely fun because I finally got to see my friends break it down on the dance floor! We met a lot of great people that night, and weren't too hungover to miss our walking tour the next day. Unfortunately I misheard the guide and so got us separated from the group but... lost isn't always a bad thing. The sleeping situation in London wasn't quite ideal: I stayed in a 12-bed room with 11 French people, (we love the French), because I booked separately from my friends, but aside from the crazy French guys and their crazy French ways, all was well.

Today I:

made a cake

took two baths

caught up on some picture uploading

cleaned

hung postcards

downloaded One Love

thought.

I'm out of patience. Au revoir!

Farewell.

A Mission of Critical Importance

So, Operation No-Wait-Time was unsuccessful.

I’ve done a lot of flying over the past few months, and the good news is that I absolutely adore flying. Really. I love the takeoffs, especially that moment when the plane taxis onto the runway and stops completely for a moment and then all of a sudden you hear the roar of the engines and you’re sucked back into your seat as the plane goes 0 to airborne in seconds. I also enjoy the landings. Maybe it’s an adrenaline thing, but I like the way my heart pounds when we get inches away from the tarmack and everyone’s waiting for the touchdown. For some reason, no matter how rested I am, I never have trouble dozing off, even on flights that aren’t even two hours long. Maybe I am just naïve, but I don’t mind riding with clouds between my knees. I also don’t really mind going through security. It’s always bewildering to me when I get pulled aside and double-frisked, have my carry-on gone through, or beep on my way through the metal detectors, (I think that may be a result of my habit of eating change as a child; also I’m not sure how many times you can accidentally throw your razor in your carryon before you get placed on the terrorist watch list). Bewilderment aside, it’s mildly amusing to me. There is one thing I really don’t care for, one thing that I decided to find my way around: the 1-2 hours of waiting time between security and boarding. Airport check-in almost always begins 2 hours before scheduled departure. Most people show up a bit before this and by the time it nears the 2 hour pre-departure mark, almost everyone taking the flight is already in line ready to check their baggage and head through security. After making it through the check in line, it’s time to move onto the security line. Once through security it’s then time to wait for the boarding call, which usually comes 30 minutes prior to scheduled departure. Depending on your position in the check-in line, you could have anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours to wait until boarding begins for your flight. After dutifully making sure you arrive to the airport at least 2 hours before the flight, it seems like such an awful waste to me- not to mention boring time- to be sitting for that time period, just waiting for the boarding call. Anyway, I decided I was going to be bold this time, and attempt to make myself just late enough to avoid at least 30 minutes of that waiting time, (Oh so bold of me!). My flight was scheduled to leave at 10:45am, and I rounded the approximate time for a cab ride from my apartment to the airport up to about 30 minutes. I calculated my airport arrival time to be 9:15am and once through check in and security, I would hopefully have no more than 45 minutes to wait until boarding. I was up by 7:45am and on schedule, but somehow time slipped past me and by the time I checked the clock it was already 8:45 and I hadn’t even called a taxi yet. With an eyelash curler in one hand clamped onto my right eye, and my cell pressed to my left ear I speed-dialed Taxi 4 and reached to turn down my music. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. After about a minute and a half I finally hung up, cursing the phone operators who literally have ONE job to do, and ignoring the slight feeling of panic rising up in my stomach, proceeded to move on to curling my left eyelashes. A minute later I tried to phone Taxi 4 again and after waiting a slightly shorter time for an answer, I gave in to the panic and hung up to google another taxi co. After no immediate luck on my google search I glanced at the clock (near 9am) and rushed to jam my hair dryer and blanket into my bag. Feeling more panic and a hint of desperation I hit send one more time and waited. After quite a few rings, I got an answer, and within a few minutes my cab had arrived. I got downstairs, loaded my bag and self into the car and my cab driver shut me in, slamming the door as he said “Moment!”. I waited in the car as he went into the store and came back a few minutes after with what he later offered to me as “breakfast”. By the time we left the apartment it was 9:15am but my nerves were calmed a bit by the fact that we were on the road and not more than 30 minutes from the airport. Little did I know… Every time I taxi to/from the airport my drivers take a different route. I’ve even had the same driver three times, but a different route each time. I don’t know what it depends on- the traffic, the weather, the phase of the moon, but bottom line: it’s something I am used to now, so I wasn’t the least bit alarmed when the driver took a left where I expected a right and headed into unfamiliar territory. I did, however, feel a slight stirring in my stomach when 20 minutes had passed and still no sign of the highway connecting the inner city with the outskirts and airport. By the time we reached a strip of freeway that I recognized, I could gauge that we were still at least 5-10 minutes away from the terminal. It was 9:45. I had resigned myself to accept the fact that I couldn’t make the taxi arrive any sooner, but when we zoomed past the left turn for terminal 1, my slight panic was back in full force. Turns out I was flying from a different terminal and I had neglected to discover that they weren’t at the same location. By the time I was dropped off and into the terminal, it was deserted of all passengers. Not sure which desk to step up to I chose the one on my left (I always choose my left), and tentatively handed up my passport. I checked to make sure that I was in the right place, and his surprised reply was “Amsterdam? Just in time,” along with a smile. He printed my boarding pass, stamped ‘10am’ and let me know that boarding would be beginning any minute. Feeling relieved and a bit silly at the same time I mumbled something about my cab driver and he smiled some more and sent me through security. Security check was uneventful. There was not a single person in line and I was through in seconds. At this point I was riding the high of my nerves and actually feeling quite pleased with myself for bypassing the lines and needless waiting. Boarding was set to begin at 10:15 so I grabbed some fruit and a newspaper and sat down prepared to wait the remaining 10 minutes. Instead, I waited another hour and ten minutes thanks to a delay caused by the snow that had just began to fall when my cab pulled up to the terminal. Once boarding began we were off the runway and into the air in no time. My flight arrived an hour late, but safe and uneventful. Anyway, I declare Operation No-Wait-Time a FAILURE.*

I hope no one actually read through this.

Farewell.

*mission that needs to be retested