Just give me a few
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Road Tripping, Tripping Roads
I want to write about road trips/THE road trip. I really do.
Just give me a fewminutes hours days to catch up to myself.
Just give me a few
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Freaking Reflections
Freaking America.
Freaking winter break.
Freaking everyone else having either left or been left behind. So to speak.
I'm restless and have no idea what I want to do to combat that. Usually this is not the case. Well... at this exact moment I'd like to bust down the door of the people living above me and smash the gears out of the sewing machine being used with the object currently nearest me. Which is a hair tie or a cardigan. Needless to say it would be a very slow and awkward smashing.
Who sews at 02.30?
The holidays went better than I had expected (apologies to the family for my doubts), but the after parts were strange. It was odd driving my dad to the airport to see him off to Latvia. Usually it's me seeing him off back to the States. Same with my best friend. But I'm more okay with it than I was a week and a half ago.
Though New Year's Eve left me bitter. The experience of partying/visiting with friends and family at home in Riga and then rushing to the square by the Freedom Monument at 10 to 00.00 for the countdown is indescribable. Champagne bottles being passed around, emptied or kicked across asphalt. My middle-aged relative saying she hadn't taken a drink directly from a bottle since her college days, then stifling her laughter with a swig of bubbly. Mandarin oranges being shoved into your pockets by strangers. People dressed as chickens or call girls. It's like Halloween+Christmas+Easter+Independence Day. Then the fireworks. Oh, the fireworks. The fireworks well before midnight, shot off by Russians eager to get the party started. Then the city-sponsored fireworks. Then more Russian fireworks.
Then mulled wine, then sledding on plywood slabs by the Dom Church. Then throwing snow. Then chasing after some random golden retriever. I don't think I'm exaggerating or selling New Year's Eves to come short when I say the 2009-2010 exchange was the absolute tops. Man. I don't even want to try to beat it.
Freaking winter break.
Freaking everyone else having either left or been left behind. So to speak.
I'm restless and have no idea what I want to do to combat that. Usually this is not the case. Well... at this exact moment I'd like to bust down the door of the people living above me and smash the gears out of the sewing machine being used with the object currently nearest me. Which is a hair tie or a cardigan. Needless to say it would be a very slow and awkward smashing.
Who sews at 02.30?
The holidays went better than I had expected (apologies to the family for my doubts), but the after parts were strange. It was odd driving my dad to the airport to see him off to Latvia. Usually it's me seeing him off back to the States. Same with my best friend. But I'm more okay with it than I was a week and a half ago.
Though New Year's Eve left me bitter. The experience of partying/visiting with friends and family at home in Riga and then rushing to the square by the Freedom Monument at 10 to 00.00 for the countdown is indescribable. Champagne bottles being passed around, emptied or kicked across asphalt. My middle-aged relative saying she hadn't taken a drink directly from a bottle since her college days, then stifling her laughter with a swig of bubbly. Mandarin oranges being shoved into your pockets by strangers. People dressed as chickens or call girls. It's like Halloween+Christmas+Easter+Independence Day. Then the fireworks. Oh, the fireworks. The fireworks well before midnight, shot off by Russians eager to get the party started. Then the city-sponsored fireworks. Then more Russian fireworks.
Then mulled wine, then sledding on plywood slabs by the Dom Church. Then throwing snow. Then chasing after some random golden retriever. I don't think I'm exaggerating or selling New Year's Eves to come short when I say the 2009-2010 exchange was the absolute tops. Man. I don't even want to try to beat it.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Homecoming Benefits
Despite my initial worries about being back for a winter break period for the first time in three years, it appears things won't be as dire as initially expected.
I had forgotten that my room at my father's house is a veritable treasure trove of SimCity CD-ROMs, phrase books in several languages, a Rubik's Snake and lava lamps. If these post-finals swollen throat glands turn into something serious, at least I know I'll be able to entertain myself until it blows over.
I'll also work on my lock-picking skills. No joke. Watch me.
I had forgotten that my room at my father's house is a veritable treasure trove of SimCity CD-ROMs, phrase books in several languages, a Rubik's Snake and lava lamps. If these post-finals swollen throat glands turn into something serious, at least I know I'll be able to entertain myself until it blows over.
I'll also work on my lock-picking skills. No joke. Watch me.
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