I Io Je Yo

Last day at the desk on Friday, Barcelona on Saturday where I shall proudly exercise my South American Spanish for a few days, and then at long last, my much lusted after Paris. Come to mama.

Entering the home strech here, bittersweetly. This past weekend was both painful and glorious - I know I am laying on the drama thick, but if you have seen me butter toast, nothing new around these parts.

Saturday, I accidently hiked to one of St. Francis' original convents, built in 1192. After walking up hill through Tuscan countryside, whabam! Original chapel, some sort of miraculous spring, statue. What do you know. That last "I should bring my camera" thought went regrettably ignored, which leaves only the fragile and elastic medium of memory to comemerate the occasion.

And now this, I suppose.

I went to Rimini for the day yesterday;

my how I love seeing things out of context.

A consistantly well-coiffed lady without her make up on, scientific facts written for the "layman" (have you read The Selfish Gene?), children around a board table.

Italy's biggest summertime party spot, on a cloudy Sunday around 13:00.

Running into Bastyr students in San Sepolcro.

ANNOUNCEMENT

I am running the Seattle Marathon (now I have to) and I am 95% sure I have convinced my brother to walk the 26.2 as well. More on this later.

I Just Want a Little Magenta, is That Too Much to Ask For?

“Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, "hey girl, magenta!" and she's like, "oh, you mean purple!" and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, "no - I want magenta!"”

I know that I am supposed to be writing original prose on the good and bad of a new, exotic environment, but that's just good/sounds something like what has been floating around my mind for the past couple of weeks. Terribly pompous sounding when you read it, no? I was afraid of that...

I will most likely be hitchhiking to Montalcino to taste the best wines known to man this weekend, as no one wants to rent a car to my under 25 years of age self (I am pretty sure one place was willing to with a ridic bribe, but it could have been my poor Italian comprehension).

I won't do any hitchhiking after dark, I promise.

And then, Love turned into Gravity

There is now an explanation that is backed by a mathematical formula.

It's the idea that we have evolved into a society, or that one has evolved into a being, that no longer has same ability, desires, or framework.

Did Mom tell you about my new product idea?

All I need is a trademark/patent and we are off.

The last day I was in Croatia I walked into an internet cafè (listen to this) that offered free internet access with the purchase of one of the poor in quality (yes, I am a book snob), 2nd hand books that occupied 4 or 5 shelves in the too-hot-no-bathroom-having shop.

Made a call on skype, sent out a couple of necessary emails, and finished a bad thriller authored by an emergency room physician before bed-time the following night.

What a great idea.

Encourage Ed to use the notebook I got for him, please.

(Banana) Split

I wish I had the time and patience to write thousands of words on the last few days because they deserve every last unborn cluster of letters.

I flew into Zadar, Croatia on Friday. I wandered onto a bus and then a short walk to the town's stunning Roman built enterance. It was right then that I was slapped across the face by overwhelming loneliness. Sitting under a tree and eating a roasted corn cob helped a little. I finally stopped feeling sorry for myself, figured out how to use my calling card, and got a hold of my couchsurfing contact.

The rest of the evening and well into the night was spent in discussion of Croatian politics, its past, present and future, over belgium beer and pelinkovac (the delightful Croatian digestivo) with Miso, Miro, and Miro's androgenously beautiful-student-of-history-and-archeology roommate.

Bus to Split the next day to meet up with the girls. Exhuasted, I slept in the window filtered sun for the first hour. As I drifted in and out of sleep, I heard my mother tongue being spoken by the inhabitants of the seats in front of me. I unabashedly evesdropped - 4 lively young Irismen. Casual conversation of course ensued, and I enjoyed a pint with them when we finally arrived.

Timing has been my ally 90% of the time on this trip. Finally asked enough people to find the hostel that K & J were staying at just as they were leaving. Great evening followed, sadly only allowing 2 hours of sleep on the Irishmen's couch.

I happily spent the rest of the long weekend with K & J reveling in having 1) company, that was 2) good, and provided by 3) "old" friends. There was swimming, an island ferry ride, and lots of gelato to be enjoyed. Highlight of the hostel? The ice cube tray was in the shape of the first 8 letters of the alphabet - I love creatively shaped, cold things, but not ice sculptures, that's just cliche.

I took an overnight ferry back to Ancona, Italy on monday night, met more great people, saw the Milky way like never before, and "borrowed" a brand new roll of bright PINK toilet paper on the ferry (awesome!).

After the girls got on their bus and before I got on my ferry, I finally got that banana split.

Don't worry, I took a picture.

Happy Anniversary

My parents were married by the catholic church 31 years ago today (married by the state of Hawaii on June 17, the day I was born on 8 years later).

I am celebrating by learning basic Croatian in preparation for this weekend's trip.

So...

Volim te Mom & Dad

Star Gazer

You know the song that plays during the credits after he say "keep looking up" that you love? I found out what it is

1st Arabesque by Debussy

So you DO like the piano after all...listen to it on youtube!

I went to a piano concert in a church that was built in the 16th century last night. A great French pianist who brought out her two young daughters to accompany her on violins for a couple of pieces. She offerred 3 encores and THAT was the last piece she played.

When you know someone's soul, no matter where you go or what you do, there are always reminders of them sprinkled on top of the plate of the day.

I miss you more than anyone.

Sinking

http://cia.is/venice/

Ecstatic I stumbled in on this - however, can't decide if I think these guys are genius or just cocky & lazy.

I guess if one is a genius, laziness and cockiness are both easier to pull off.

Venice is the most romantic thing I have yet to encounter - this time I can't decide if this makes it a wonderful or terrible place to visit by yourself.

I did however, meet some lovely ladies serving in the US Army and stationed in Germany. They were on the last day of leave during which they had taken a cruise around Europe. Really sweet & fun - without them I don't know if the gondola ride would have happened.

Somethings are worth waiting for after fighting through a crowd of tourists. Glass island, yes - lace island, no, etc....

So...do I get a yes?

To Fill And Be Filled

Yesterday -

I usually don't really like ravioli, tends to be mushy and flavorless - not what I look for in food or for that matter, in life in general. But these whole wheat, sunflower seed and zucchini (it was vegetarian, gasp!) filled envelopes at the macrobiotic (sorry Dad) restaurant I found...the best pasta I have had in Italia so far.

And then I bellydanced, haven't done that in a while.

Better than the ravioli.

This weekend will be spent in Venice.

If I come home with a mask, please make fun of me (doesn't mean I won't).

You Probably Think This Post Is About You

WHY CAN'T I GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD?
******************************************

I finally got to talk to the Mommy-pants yesterday. Some things never change. Like the answer to
"What have you been up to Mom?"

"Busy"

Busy compiles all of the stuff on the mental to do list and plops it down into one, heavy word.

You know what would be great? Is if the answer was

"Oh, not too much. Drank some tea, reading a little, disscussing what our favorite colors are with your Dad....getting a massage later"

Until then, I worry (while she is of course, worrying her pants off about me).

Is that a hint of guilt that I just caught a whiff of? Na, it was probably the lavendar sitting on my desk that I picked on yesterday's lunch time walk through the fields. Can't get more safe than that.

Maybe the transatlantic worrying algebraically cancels out?

Nope

As is usually the case, arithmetic seems more applicable here.

Is it just me, or is life pretty simple?

Have a good time
Care for your neighbor
Sell more than you buy

Currently lovin' on:
Figs straight off the tree
John Mayer (in an appreciate-his-sense-of-humorandmusic, not have-a-crush-on kind of way, eww)
Positive reinforcement I am getting at work

All that glisters is not gold

Temporale

Tormenta

Full many a lady
I have eyed with best regard and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I liked several women; never any
With so fun soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best!

Don't misunderstand, I still think Shakespeare is overrated.

The rain continues to follow me; an epic thunderstorm yesterday. The planned run and movie sotto le stelle (under the stars) - foiled (folio'ed? sorry, never know when to stop). Instead I enjoyed a delicious dinner at one of my favorite spots. Windows swung wide open allowed the prickly, charged air in as I took the opportunity of cooler weather to indulge in my soup habit and read about Montalcino - must visit.

But now in keeping with the theme, let's tenitively plan on Venice for this weekend.

The Hills Are Alive...

Finally made it "home" from Vienna at around 715am this morning...my boss offered to give me the day off, but here I am - a little late and writing on my blog, but here nonetheless.

I just found out late last night that my cousin had her baby on the 4th and that he is healthy and happy!!! I couldn't ask for better news and cannot wait to meet him....SO EXCITED! And grooming the next Derek Jeter begins...

Vienna was awesome. Spent a full 3 days in the city and then the weekend on an overnight hiking trip in the Alpine foothills.

I will never bungee jump, I don't use mind altering hallucigens (other than a good red wine), but the feeling of stepping out into a place you have never even thought about being before, don't know how to speak the langauge, and have no idea how to get where you need to go, is a worm I quite like the taste of.

The train stop I pick, perfect. On a tram I go that deposits me almost directly in front of Hotel Sacher, home of the previously mentioned cake. Good stuff and relatively resonably priced, but Cheryl and Sarah could make better (and it would probably be vegan, gluten-free, and do a little dance for you).

2 great art museums, 2 palaces, gorgeous church & state buildings - a whole lot of walking, pictures, and an ever open mouth. Wienerschnitzel is not that great though. It could be, it just needs to work on its breading:flesh ratio.

And the hike (guess who's idea?). I sung part of "Climb Every Mountain" at one point. We spent the night in a hut after finishing off the last part of the 2000 meter climb in (honestly) the hardest rain I have ever been in. Wet wet wet. It cleared up beautifully right after a well deserved nap, and I was reminded of how beautiful it is to look down on clouds crowning mountain tops. Then my first taste of Schnapps (the real stuff). I try the Plum and mixed fruit varieties. Pleased and currently thinking up all kinds of exotic tea/schnapps pairings (Austrian Tea?).

I must get to work and temporarily suspend daydreaming about what the upcoming weekend has in store...

Chocolate Cake & Family Jewels

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sachertorte

No, the best choclate cake in the world is not the only reason for my trip to Vienna.
I am going for architecture and dead composers, and all that highbrow stuff - I assure you.
The chocolate cake really brought it full circle though.

After finishing another deceptively easy 7 mile run after work yesterday, I thought to myself could it be the large amounts of second hand smoke that I am inhaling that is making running such a joy? Also, is it the disgusting amount of simple carbohydrates that I am eating that are giving my long lost abs back? Or is that solely from the running?

I love Italy.

Overnight train - Arrive @ Wien in the morning.

Por Una Cabeza

A Hajj is one of the 5 pillars of Islam and is the pilgrimage made to Mecca, at least once in a Muslim's life (of those who are able). Before and during the pilgrim's time at Mecca, an entire set of rituals are preformed that I am not going to pretend to know anything about.

Sometime late in morning on Friday, I placed my hand of the tomb of San Antonio de Padua. It's been a little bit since I have cried that much ("There's no crying in baseball").

I am not Catholic, and on my very short list of universal dislikes, "posers" sits pretty high up. More importantly, I take the Ten Commandments to heart (they seem pretty legit, right?) and staunchly believe in the worship of God and God alone.

As my hand touched the light marble, the culmination of what brought me to that moment - a 23 year old, well-intentioned but often asinine, 2nd year Naturopathic medical student, daughter of Blanca & Ed, sister to Bianca & Ed - to the tomb of a man who died 800 years ago in Padua, Italy, was much more than I could/can handle.

Saint Anthony was a common household name growing up. His celebration day (date o' death), June 13, was a minor holiday that always got special mention and thus 13 is, not by choice but by tradition, one of my 2 lucky numbers.

Standing there in a line going pilgrim slow, I just wanted to be good. Not good enough, not better, not good for something, but GOOD.

Again, I won't pretend to know, but I imagine those on their Hajj might feel something similar.

I sat down in one of the cloisters along the walls facing his tomb and watched the nun I will never be, the sinner that I am, and the spouse and baby that I want, pray...

and then file by.