Morning All!

I have come to the realization that the scone I’m eating for breakfast is no more than a giant, biscuity cookie.

Yes but when are those qualities a bad thing? Never! Is the correct answer, complete with exclamation point.

I had interesting sleep last night, after reading about the Lisbon earthquake and writing my culture shock essay. My dreams consisted oddly enough of Travis Ferry joining USF’s alumni and me having a problem with leaves. Yes it was actually quite frustrating because every time I tried to speak, a leaf would appear on my tongue to quell my attempt. Each time it was a different leaf too, first a maple, then a spiny oak, and then twirling yellow aspen leaves. The result was garbled speech on my part and then the very confused looks of the people trying to understand me.

Good morning, though it is more the start of afternoon I suppose, only who is going to correct me on that one. Most of the people that may happen to read this are sleeping peacefully across the ocean. So ha! It is morning if I say it is.

I am fantastically in love with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and have been since I first saw it…only now I do not have my copy so I had withdrawal a couple evenings ago.

I have yet to read Alexander Pope’s poem called Eloisa to Abelard, which is about two tragic lovers begging for forgetfulness… thus it would make sense that this poem is the basis for the title of my favorite movie. I must read it soon.

And alas and how wonderful that the day is just beginning. My scone was yummy, the day looks pretty, and I must go play hide and go seek with my clothes.

Late Afternoons

It was a bright day outside and although the post office was closed, Seren and I found ourselves a little adventure. Originally Seren was headed to pick up a package her mother sent her, but we quickly found out that not only is May first a holiday in Hungary, but so is the rest of the weekend. Seren was immensely excited about the care package, and sadly will have to wait until Monday to rummage through the American goodies she misses so terribly. I think her mother actually sent pickles, interestingly enough. Although they do pickle very many things in Hungary, pickled pickles are not one of the most edible. Though I suppose you can’t pickle a pickle because it is already pickled. Should I say pickle a cucumber? Is that better? Anyway, after coming away from the post office thoroughly disappointed we decided to venture down a cute tree-lined avenue. Cafes are always open, even if the rest of the city is not, so we passed by bustling restaurants, fluttering menus, chatting couples, and brightly colored umbrellas. I had a strange urge to attempt shimmying up a column, and made a royal fool out of myself. There was a young local who passed by and couldn’t contain his amused chuckling. I smiled back, almost apologetically as I wrapped myself around the column like a monkey. Sometimes I just must give in to my strange urges, especially when they are harmless and only slightly embarrassing. Seren and I wound our way back stopping for lunch at a Mexican restaurant. Yes that’s right! One actually exists here! Though, I didn’t dare order a burrito. Most of the food seemed sketchy, but the quesadillas were delightful and I was in heaven to have guacamole again.

I’m sitting so that I face the windows of the apartment. The sun is about to go down and streams into the whole room with its last efforts of the day. I feel completely peaceful at this moment: the sound of birds drift on the occasional breeze as well as quiet murmurs from people walking the streets bellow, and the smoke from the incense on the windowsill is languidly curling out the open door and over the balcony.