reasonable offer

so my first day of classes went as the first day of classes always goes for me... no matter how much i prepare, or think i've prepared, i always begin the semester with some inevitable failures. this time, for example, i forgot it was in fact tuesday and not monday. so i arrived on campus knowing only my monday schedule... and, well, the day went on from there.

i did, however, have a defining moment as i sat in a seminar class i decided to pick up about an hour before the class began. i slipped in the back a few minutes late, and sat down beside a boy who introduced himself as mike after i asked, and had little else to say after that. the class is one of those after-you-take-this-you'll-know-exactly-what-to-do-with-your-life classes, even splitting the students into two tracks, one for those who want a career and one for those interested in grad school. which, of course, leaves those who aren't sure feeling... well, trackless i suppose.

towards the end of class, the grad student who was teaching asked us to take out a sheet of paper (i owe you one, mike) and write our names, the date, and this question at the top: Who Are You?

does it get more ambiguously blunt than that? honestly. somehow though, after my initial reaction, i knew exactly what to say. my hand scribbled as fast as it could on the paper, hardly able to keep up. and after the 2 minutes alotted to summing up our entire beings, my paper was full. and messy. and my mind was still buzzing with more things to put down.

i glanced over at mike's. he had 3 bullets, and what appeared to be a rubber pen.

refreshing, you know? to know yourself. i recommend it.


on another note, i love the random stuff people actually try to sell on craigslist...
especially in blacksburg.

perpetual lateness.

is it too late to post a christmas photo?




not when it's this fantastic.

benches.

i'm a sucker for good conversation. i really am. so much so that i often find myself getting into bed at 5am after a few glasses of wine and more words than i can account for.

i was bored yesterday and before i knew it i was reliving every part of my daytrip to sitges. i re-sampled the cava, re-saw all the artwork, re-felt the sand in my toes and re-explored every part of the charming town. and it was uplifting and intoxicating and left me right back where i am now.


i found myself the other night sitting in a faux-warm starbucks across from a friend and drinking a latte. and there was an old man sitting at the counter. i observed him, his interactions, his conversations, for about an hour. and i found myself wildly jealous, somehow. he was a portrait of satisfaction. he sat there beside his wife, drinking his grande brewed coffee, reading the sunday paper and catching up with the employees. when he was done, he said goodbye and see you next week and the two of them left.

i realized that my plan for that evening was to drink something soothing, enjoy some good conversation, and laugh too loudly. instead i was concerned that i was at starbucks rather than supporting a local shop. i was letdown that the coffee in america could never compare to cafe con leche and that in general i wasn't greeted in spanish. or greeted at all. i was irritated that i saw three people from my high school. i was met with the weight of a well overdue but sufficiently overdone conversation spotted with drawn-out silences and unwelcome melancholy rather than the lighthearted inspirational one i was hoping for. i left saying goodbye to no one, walking beside no one, and couldn't shake the shattered image of the friend who had been sitting across from me, the ex-lover/boyfriend/person who used to make me whole.

i need to shake this. i'm going to the thrift store.

laundry.

what i attempted tonight for 15minutes, approximately:
notaseasyasitlooks.


i've come to the conclusion that i must not like to sleep. i have no idea why i tried to occupy my time folding a dollar bill (which, if i might add, i used a five) to make it look like an item of clothing, but i thought it would be really neat.

...

i got stuck around step7 and then got frustrated and then confused as to why i wasn't in bed considering i have to wake up early and realized mr lincoln probably prefers life not as an imitation miniature dress shirt anyway and decided to update my blog.

which, i've tried to do. since... well, since my arrival back in the states. but it kept making me sad. i'd open it with ideas i couldn't wait to post, but then i'd remember the reason i started a blog, glance at my pictures, hear my voice from across an ocean.... and it made me sad. i miss it.

and, to account for my blog drought i have more than a webpage worth of memories and stories. so let's talk.


until then, a bit of irony:
i'm back in blacksburg now and have been for almost a week. yesterday i asked where the washer and dryer was in our house considering i couldn't find it, to which deanna laughed and replied, "hope you like the laundromat".


... somehow i'm craving my oh-so-complained-about tiny spanish washing machine and clothesline on the balcony. and everything else that was barcelona.