Chakravada

Oct. 31st, 2007 12:31 pm
chantico: (Energetic)
Happy Halloween/Samhain/All Saints Day, everyone! Florence is a wonderful city for this time of year, seeing as it is almost entirely focused on the past, on reflection and dark stone and bone-white birch trees. Sadly, there is no such thing as Halloween over here: we have All Saint’s Day, but that’s completely different. One of my classmates got a package filled with Halloween candy from home, and I lamented. Candy corn and Reeses Cups, I miss you! Apple cider, I shall write you s longing ode!

I can’t believe it’s the end of October already. The early part of the month found me in unhappy places, culture shock fully setting in. I thought it wouldn’t happen to me; oh no, I said, I’m already used to enough strangeness, enough non-stereotypical American behavior. Culture shock? Bah!

Yeah, *right*. That attitude wore off pretty quick when I realized that I felt utterly helpless, essentially lost, flailing in a sea of dirty urban streets, perverted old men, gelato and traffic laws that make no sense whatsoever. I wanted to kill every person that laid eyes on me. I wanted to throttle them while screaming NO PARLO ITALIANO. I was, ah, a little stressed.

Then midterms! Nothing like a good bout of panic . . . or not so much panic as mild interest . . . to get me back in gear. Actually, I attribute my feeling better to two things, the first being that instead of studying I spent the weekend before midterms *writing again*. Man, when I get going, I don’t fool around. 40 pages of story later, I was feeling inspired and excised. Why did I *ever* stop writing, aside from lack of time/intimidation felt due to nearby presence of awesome writers?

Number 2 was fall break, in which I shopped (Calvin Klein feather down coat, check. Dark brown mid-forearm Italian leather gloves, check. Gorgeous blue and purple Pashmina scarf, check. Sweet hematite and gemstone swirly sparkly, check. Utilitarian but comfortable black sneakers so I can throw away my nasty ass old Sketchers, check), and more importantly went on vay-cay.

Guess where I went?


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chantico: (Melancholy)
This week started off with an unpleasant encounter: I have met the Adversary, and he be named The Garbage Truck That Wakes You Up At Six Fucking Forty Five In The Morning. Appearently, this creature is natural to cities, but being a poor country bumpkin who is used to her peace and quiet the screaming of un-oiled metal, rattling of metal cans, and shouting of angry old men caused me a near fit.

Maybe it's the lost sleep, but I'm feeling not so good today. There's something deeply pyschologically disconcerting about existing on your own in a place where you can't communicate with *anybody*, because of language, culture, or social differences. I may be able to speak to my classmates, but all they want to talk about it getting drunk, Sex in the City or similar things. Plus it's all rainy, and an overcast sky in a city feels poisonous to me; it's already gray enough, why add more?

I had an okay weekend-- Saturday was great, as I got out to the Boboli Gardens. They're *amazingly* beautiful, and huge. I'll be visiting there a few more times to try and cover all of my ground. The most amazing sight I didn't get in pictures yet, but I'm excited to show you all-- it's an area where they made sculptures to look like cave structures that sort of looked like sculptures. I'll get some photos when I go again, but for now the pictures I have are below the cut, more in my scrapbook gallery. Sunday was drab and overcast part two, but I made myself go out and draw. I was supposed to go to Fiesole, but hiking in the rain did not sound so good. I found an big park filled with old birch trees that were losing their leaves, dark clouds, black hedges, and, best of all, a closed down carosel. It was perfect and yielded a pretty good drawing before I had to run form the rain. I also tried a mozzarella, tuna and tomato sandwich (having no idea what I was ordering). That didn't sit well, so then I went home and was sick and fatigued for the rest of the day.

I'm worried about my loan, too. Two weeks until my bill needs paying. . . I've been emailing and bugging them, and they *say* it's being processed, but, mrr.

I know I promised a post on me, but I don't think I'm up to it right now . . . my magic is strong, but as I was reminded on the border of dreaming and being awake, I need to "Remember . . . you're dead right now." It's true. I'm doing the whole Underworld thing, and that's always tough.

Walking with the Dark Lady all this semster, but this week, UNDressing of Salad, Miss Dreamweaver and good old Hobyah are standing on their heads at me, facing the fiery sword. It's gonna be a tough week.

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