Random Thoughts

In no particular order...

I apologize profusely for not writing more often, and in advance if I ever spell anything wrong since I'm living, eating, breathing, speaking, and writing Italian. Every time I start to blog I feel like a broken record. Everyone knows I'm in Florence. Let's move on.

I need to paint my nails.

I would like to read Jane Austen's Persuasion and finish A Room With a View during the course of my stay, but I'm really not sure if that's possible.

I'm having really vivid memories of my living room and how comfortable my couch is. It's not necessarily making me sad but I think I might go into my living room here and pretend I'm back in Wolftown at some point.

I love Beth.

I really enjoy the words, duplicitous, superfluous, snafu, idiosyncrasy, and more delectable (oh! that's another) English words. Despite my love for Italian, English really is a wonderful language.

I really enjoy adding "bears" on the end of adjectives as some of you already know. "Are you happy bears?" is much more fun than just asking "Are you happy?" During the course of my stay here the phrases "unsanitary bears," "deceitful bears," and "contented bears," are not uncommon bears to hear. We're silly bears.

I love bears.

Also, why wasn't I born in the 17th or 18th Century? I feel like I would have enjoyed myself much more, despite not being able to vote, own property, go to school, have a career, or divorce my husband if I caught him cheating on me. Okay, nevermind, I feel grateful to be alive in this time period. But can't I just visit?

Perhaps booking tickets for Scotland today and listening to Enya is a lethal combination but I think this is what I'd do if I found myself in 17th or 18th Century Scottish Highlands...

I'd find a horse, start riding, and let the Scottish wind blow through my abnormally long hair (there aren't any hairdressers in 17th or 18th Century Scotland). I'd get caught in a rainstorm, a particularly loud one - a torrential downpour - and twirl around, unafraid of getting struck by the lightening. After said rainstorm, I'd get back on my horse and keep riding to our unknown destination.

Finally, I (let's switch to present tense instead of conditional) spot a castle on the horizon - a beautiful stone building on the water, set against the rolling green, mountainous Scottish hills. I ride across the bridge and come to a stop before the intimidating iron doors. I hear music inside. Wet from the storm, tired from riding, but still curious, I peak inside a stained glass window on the side of the cliff. Inside the room's golden glow are people dancing. There's a beautiful blur of plaid tartan prints.

No comments: