It was like being back for an hour.

[radianreverie]

Yesterday I searched online and found the address for a place called "Balkan Grille". It's located in a town called Tukwila, which is a somewhat ghetto-ish area a bit south of Seattle. I went. A tiny multi-color building, red blue yellow, all the blinds pulled. I enter, and every Balkan male eye at the bar whips around to see the random blonde teenager entering. The hostess comes up to me, greeting me with not 'hi,' nor 'hello,' but 'dobar dan'. Which means good afternoon in Croatian/Bosnian/Serbian (which are basically one in the same, minus dialects and some grammer and vocabulary). I nearly cried. I ate cevapi, Bosnian specialty food. I spoke Croatian with the lady. No one there spoke English. I got asked out by a random youngish Macedonian (also speaks Bosnian) guy. I turned him down. Because even if he is Balkan, twenty-eight might be just a bit too old for me, you know.

That whole thing made me so fucking happy.

A nisam zaboravila skoro nista. Yay.