A Weekend Overview
This weekend is the borcak festival, which I wrote about last year. Borcak is unfermented wine and I think it is rather tasty. I’m meeting Caroline (and possibly others?) after work to down a glass. And then I am going home to beautify myself for a date. This guy is 29 and Austrian, and he unfortunately shares his name with one of my exes-the Scottish may-or-may-not-have-had-a-brain-tumor guy.
Tomorrow, I’m planning to visit Amy in the hospital again as well as attend the piano concert of my former coworker’s mother. She is Austrian. I guess that’s the theme of the weekend. Hopefully I will also drink more borcak. I hope it’s as delicious as I remember.
I may talk to Dirk on the phone on Sunday, but I don’t think so. He and I spoke on Wednesday, and he seems to have completely overlooked my declaration of how I want to be treated. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. On the one hand, I want to stand up to him; on the other, he can frequently tell when I’m being too self-righteous. That may have been the case earlier this week.
At any rate, I’m going to price flights so that I can visit him again around the second week of November. It would be nice if we could fall into a schedule like this, seeing each other every few months. But I don’t know that his work schedule will allow and I really don’t know how many more months I’m going to live here. At the moment, I’m thinking 15-move back to the US in 2010. But I don’t know; I’m still working it out.
Also, mentally and emotionally, I feel absolutely normal, possibly even better than normal. I’m not sure where to put the mark on my chart, but I am content. I’m pretty sure that my emotional breakdown last week was largely hormones with the final, un-ignorable fact that I was being used by that dashing Frenchman as the last straw or however you wish me to mix my metaphors.
Tomorrow, I’m planning to visit Amy in the hospital again as well as attend the piano concert of my former coworker’s mother. She is Austrian. I guess that’s the theme of the weekend. Hopefully I will also drink more borcak. I hope it’s as delicious as I remember.
I may talk to Dirk on the phone on Sunday, but I don’t think so. He and I spoke on Wednesday, and he seems to have completely overlooked my declaration of how I want to be treated. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. On the one hand, I want to stand up to him; on the other, he can frequently tell when I’m being too self-righteous. That may have been the case earlier this week.
At any rate, I’m going to price flights so that I can visit him again around the second week of November. It would be nice if we could fall into a schedule like this, seeing each other every few months. But I don’t know that his work schedule will allow and I really don’t know how many more months I’m going to live here. At the moment, I’m thinking 15-move back to the US in 2010. But I don’t know; I’m still working it out.
Also, mentally and emotionally, I feel absolutely normal, possibly even better than normal. I’m not sure where to put the mark on my chart, but I am content. I’m pretty sure that my emotional breakdown last week was largely hormones with the final, un-ignorable fact that I was being used by that dashing Frenchman as the last straw or however you wish me to mix my metaphors.