New house… new house?
Ok, reasons for not writing in such a long time… I’ve been working like a dog to finish my masters on time. I moved out of the flat where I had been living these past 2 months with Maya and occasionally Sinan, and in to a small yet gezelligge room.
These were 2 very nice months. I came back here with the “I left Houston” blues, but after a couple of Palms I fell right back into my old self, with some improvements. I know more recipes now. Sicilian ones. And I have memories that no money can buy. Of sunsets watching baseball, of Ferraris and tanned middle-aged men driving them, of spanglish in every corner, of smiles and looooooooong draaaaaaaaaawn vowels. It seems almost like a dream, and a strange one indeed, but it is still there, in the back of my mind. Houston, Texas.
As I was saying, these were 2 very nice months. The high point was of course the Lowlands festival, but I hope to make a post about it when I get the pictures revealed. I hope they show more than mud. That seemed to occupy most of the weekend, somehow.
Besides Lowlands, it was really cool to live with one of my best friends. I thought it might become a bit dangerous (my first MSc project was on evolution of territoriality, and one simple way to test this would be – put 2 neurotic girls in a house and see what happens), but in the end we became even more part of each others’ family than we already were. I even managed to get a jacket from her using the same strategy as with my blood sister – wear it to exhaustion, eventually she will forget she ever owned it. It works. ;) Just kidding, Maya B. I also have to say that our domestic evenings with Amigo Sinan, watching Seinfeld and eating popcorn (well, they ate, I scorned because I don’t like popcorn), were among the best I ever had. We really had a small family going on there.
And now I’m living kind of by myself, in a small room, surrounded by stuff!! I always thought I had too few things, when I lived in a huge classroom, now I have too many…That’s relativity for you. The moving went exceedingly well, it only took 40 minutes in total to load and unload my ten boxes and additional junk to my new room, thanks to my helpers (people I bribed with beer/threatened with physical injury/etc).
These were 2 very nice months. I came back here with the “I left Houston” blues, but after a couple of Palms I fell right back into my old self, with some improvements. I know more recipes now. Sicilian ones. And I have memories that no money can buy. Of sunsets watching baseball, of Ferraris and tanned middle-aged men driving them, of spanglish in every corner, of smiles and looooooooong draaaaaaaaaawn vowels. It seems almost like a dream, and a strange one indeed, but it is still there, in the back of my mind. Houston, Texas.
As I was saying, these were 2 very nice months. The high point was of course the Lowlands festival, but I hope to make a post about it when I get the pictures revealed. I hope they show more than mud. That seemed to occupy most of the weekend, somehow.
Besides Lowlands, it was really cool to live with one of my best friends. I thought it might become a bit dangerous (my first MSc project was on evolution of territoriality, and one simple way to test this would be – put 2 neurotic girls in a house and see what happens), but in the end we became even more part of each others’ family than we already were. I even managed to get a jacket from her using the same strategy as with my blood sister – wear it to exhaustion, eventually she will forget she ever owned it. It works. ;) Just kidding, Maya B. I also have to say that our domestic evenings with Amigo Sinan, watching Seinfeld and eating popcorn (well, they ate, I scorned because I don’t like popcorn), were among the best I ever had. We really had a small family going on there.
And now I’m living kind of by myself, in a small room, surrounded by stuff!! I always thought I had too few things, when I lived in a huge classroom, now I have too many…That’s relativity for you. The moving went exceedingly well, it only took 40 minutes in total to load and unload my ten boxes and additional junk to my new room, thanks to my helpers (people I bribed with beer/threatened with physical injury/etc).
Bad side of new room: it’s on the top floor. This means that running to the bathroom (on the bottom floor) may result in a life-threatening situation – we are talking about dutch stairs, ladies and gentlemen. Now I think about how desperate I really am before going down 3 flights of stairs. “Do I really need to go?… Maybe I can hold it in.” It’s a bother. But hey, better than nothing. And it’s pretty close to the city center, now I walk to the shops, muahahahahah. I share bathroom and shower, but I have my own kitchen. Well, a kitchenette. Or more like the granddaughter of a kitchenette. Kitchenetteje. It works, ok???? Nothing wrong with being small. Gotta go, I leave a picture of the view I have from my window of the Martini Toren.
posted at 3:52 PM
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