chantico

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.