webster defines 'toast' as 'slightly burnt bread'

Last night i was informed that two friends i introduced back in the day, after being engaged for a few years, are finally tying the knot.
they're tying it in May, though, which means i'm missing it.

"I'm writing your asses a toast."

"Please do."

So i tried to go to sleep.  really, i did.  but i couldn't.  I was so keyed up about the idea of talking about their wedding that i couldn't freaking make my head shut up and go to sleep.  So I sat up, and for 20 minutes, i tried to figure out how to write a toast.  two hours later, i had two pages and could finally rest.  When i woke up, i decided i wanted feedback, so i sent them to my mom and dad and to some of my kinky friends, and read it to my flatmates.  out of about 7 people, only one said that even part of it should be reworded.  everyone else said not to change a single thing.

That's a pretty glowing review.

I have pictures from the easter market for you tomorrow!  I promise!

reality

okay so that list might look like a pain in the ass, and it was.  but it was also a lot more than that.

my parents sent me more money specifically so that i could do the england and scotland thing.  i threw my entire self into the idea that i was going to be able to realistically go.  and for a glorious hour it looked tenuous, but possible.  And then all the math started to truly add up in my head.  $1000 is £670. and where $1000 might get you a week-long roadtrip in america if you're only going about 5 hours away, that's not really the case with about £670 in Scotland/England.  not when every dollar you spend is only worth about 67 cents.

And so my heart and my family's heart being set on this trip, to try to do something important and special for someone who has helped our family in ways that cannot even be quantified, and to see the ancestral castle of a family member dating back about a thousand years ago...

i had to go through, step by step, and undo every single bit of that hope.

every single bit of that promise.

every single step of those plans.

every single cent of that money that was earmarked for something and someone else.

and so it isn't just the hassle of doing and undoing travel plans.

it's the letdown and crushing defeat of still being too poor.

of not having enough.

not being enough.

even with help.

again.

let me just pull all my hair out

book everything and reserve everything in england and scotland that i can.  blackout days for flights mean that if i have any time at all i have to stay longer.

realize everything would literally 100% clean me out.  unable to properly confirm prices until actually booked.

cancel one hostel
Cancel one B&B
Cancel 2 trains (must print return receipt AND ticket and MAIL PAPER COPIES to scotland railroad before they will refund my money for canelled train ride.  will be $100.  cannot afford not to, though i cannot save the information and email it to myself or put it on a flash drive.)

change flights to denmark.  much more affordable.  tho flight changes cost about $100.

realize i should shorten trip so as not to miss school and the hostels are expensive.  $40 to re-change.

realize school was cancelled so i could have had 2 more days. fuck it.

Book train from warsaw to Krakow to get home because that is the only nearby airport with access to copenhagen
book bus to krakow to warsaw so i get there to fly out. (must google directions from bus stop to airport)

book hostel in copenhagen for three nights

cheapest is an hour's walk from the copenhagen airport.

must call them to let the know my arrival time is not normal hours

must bring own sheets and towels

must buy yet another plug adapter

have requested information on how to find family records.

may never do this again.

in the plus side, where PLN to USD is about 3:1, Danish Krone is about 6:1.

why i don't party

the hot hot scottish dude hang onto me and wraps himself around me in line.  he is a dream.  i could listen to him and let his arms stay around me all night.   he has no Polish money, so i pay for him and his friend to get in. he holds my hands and leads me down the stairs.  he thanks me for being such a great girl. "American girls are all so so FUCKIN' DOWN." he says, hugging me.  I bet they are, since you're hot.  Your friend picked wisely when he decided to tag along with you.  He gives me his british 20-pound note to pay me back (which is actually worth quite a lot more than their entrance fee), and i run into him a couple of times more while the throbbing mob grinds to the loud-ass beat. I also run into his friend who is too drunk to even open his eyes properly.

the greek girl and boy i am there for in the first place both acknowledge me. i dance with the girl a while and when i need to breathe i get two shots of vodka and stand in the one air-conditioned spot in the entire place while a polish girl admires me for downing them both at once. And then again, later, and we embrace and she kisses both my cheeks. I make my way into the smoking dance-part and the non-smoking dance-part in turns.  The deafening beat is addictive and there's no room for any real movement and so there's no chance for you to embarrass yourself by being bad at dancing.

90% of eyes pass over me, and of the 10% that make eye contact, only 2% smile even a little. everyone else ignores me. and i don't necessarily take this personally, because the crush of the crowd breeds anonymity. but of those i find attractive enough to smile at, they don't react. their eyes slide from mine to the next face in the crowd, or they turn their backs to mine and pretend not to have noticed.

one of two boys touch my arm or legs and i laugh and grin and sing along with the song for a second, leaning in and they lean back and we're silly and it's fun, but then i pass by them and all is lost.

my ankle hurts the entire time, despite the 6 shots i've had, total, tonight. i've been stone cold sober, mixing between unventilated rooms and unventilated people. i danced anyway, feet rooted, knees bobbing to an approximation of the beat, hoping that if i throw my hands in the air like i just don't care, no one will notice i'm not jumping. no one will notice i'm just pretending. i can't tell if this works.

i ask the greek girl if her companion is single-what the story with him is? he is single, she makes a "whooooo!!" face at me, and i put my finger over my lips and ask her not to tell him i enquired, but that i think he is cute.  i have class with him, and he has a good laugh.

he ignores me to focus the entire time on girls that are less than half my width.

why is it always girls that are skinnier than me.

why. is it always girls that are skinnier than me?

i decide to leave. my ankle hurts and i will have to walk home; it was a mile to get there, it will be a mile to get back.  limping slowly.  I look for 10 minutes at a booth filled with three people and a mountain of jackets that people have discarded in this sauna.  The bigger mountain doesn't have my jacket in it.  I look around and put my hand directly onto a broken glass.  luckily reflexes kept me from putting any weight on it, but i shake my hand and can barely believe what a close call it was.

i got back to the booth and turn on the flashlight from my phone.  it's behind the guy.  he fumbles around one or two other jackets and hands me mine.  i scream THANK YOU at the people around me, but it's loud enough i doubt they hear me. 

on my way home i run into the hot scottish guy's friend. he asks me something in drunk, incoherent brogue. i tell him idk what he said, but i haven't seen his friend. he responds "well i'm sure maybe that's because he doesn't want to seeyou." and i laugh a little and go "yeah, well, whatever. have a good night" as i walk past. I try to ignore the mean little voice in my head that says of course not.

some random man addresses me. he seems nice, and he asks me what my name is and where i'm from. and i answer him, and ask him what his name is and where he's from. switzerland, he says. he asks me more questions as he comes up to me, weaving his hands into mine, and hugging me. he kisses my collar bone, and tells me i'm beautiful.

for a moment.

for a tiny moment.

i smile as another voice in my head tells me "yes. he's correct. thank him."

"Thank you." i say.

he tries to talk to me more, and i ask him if he's drunk. "no, i'm not drunk." he says. "watch, see?" he goes to stand on one leg, and stumbles. i laugh, and he insists that the ground was uneven. he moves and tries again. to his credit, he stays fairly well, tho he does wobble. "I'm not as think as you drunk i am." i joke, and he asks if i'm drunk. "no. I'm not drunk," as i say, going to disentangle myself from him after he has kissed my neck and collarbone more.

"Where are you going?" he asks. "we talk!"

I lightly peck the corner of his mouth. "no, we don't talk." i tell him. he backs off immediately, and says "oh, okay." I squeeze his hand and smile, and tell him "have a good night." and continue walking home.  he has bandaged my superficial ego a bit, so i can't be mad at him.  

as i walk i realize i'm by myself and it's 3:30 am and i vaguely wonder if i would be victim-blamed if i were to be attacked.  i imagine having to call my RD and telling him that i've been assaulted and i need an ambulance.  'well why were you out. had you been drinking. why were you by yourself.'  do they ask these things in Poland? someone's following me, but they stop when i look behind me.  they turned, so they weren't following me, they were just behind me.  I wrap my jacket around myself.

two guys come up to me asking if i have two PLN for a beer.  i give them a five-note coin and they go away.

when i get home, i feel like shit.  i'm not sick or anything, i just feel like crying, for some reason.

my flatmate tries to tell me that i'm looking for whatever it is that i'm looking for, i'm looking in the wrong place, and that i should have more self-respect.

i tell her that if i lacked self respect and was looking for anything, than i could've hooked up with the guy in the street. no, what bummed me out was the total consensus of my repulsiveness. what bummed me out is that not that i was being personally rejected, but that i was rejected en masse and on the basis of my looks.  or whatever other kaleidoscope of societal bullshit affects the way people see me.

parties are the wrong target-audience for me. I require a specific demographic/setting that is largely comprised of the ability to actually speak to the people around me.  

i guess it was good that i tried.  at least once.  it isn't a big deal. i don't have to go again.

i am just reminded how shitty i feel when i party.

....yup

I sprained my ankle, you know, because of course I did. So I was walking home and got lost. Because of course I did. And so I bought a pretty wooden rose to make myself feel better. And left it in the apoteka I got ibuprofen from. Because of course I did.

ona, oni, oh no

I felt like crying in my polish class today.  I hate gendered bits of languages.  I suck so hard at that stuff.  In German I bluffed my way through that bit for three damn years and relied on being better at the rest of the stuff for a passing grade.  I'm not even kidding.  And even though the Poles use the same alphabet, the pronunciation rules are very difficult as well.  I don't even think that the rules are that much different, but hearing the instructor only speak polish is discomfiting, because it's harder to check if i am on the right track with my thoughts.  I wish i knew more polish people, so that i could practice.  And i wish that the students here took their classes more seriously.  It's frustrating to be surrounded by people who are still willy-nilly about their schooling.  I don't understand playing hookie when you're paying so fucking much to be here.  and yes, travel as much as you can, but c'mon.  take your shit seriously.

It was really beautiful out today.  60ish with a breeze.  I sat outside for a couple of hours trying to figure out my homework, but i could only figure out 1/3rd of it.  the rest of it was written down nest to 14, and 15, which wasn't the right page at all.

i had forgotten she had given us a handout.

this class i paid extra attention to what we're being assigned, and writing it down as well.  i have to keep up.  i have to.

Today also while i was sitting outside, a british couple sat next to me.  i started to talk to them about St. Anne church and how beautiful it is, and offered to take them because i wasn't really doing anything and they agreed.  And so we started to walk, only i picked the wrong fucking road and then the wrong fucking turn off the wrong road, and the lady's feet hurt, so i just took them back to the square.  I felt so bad.  The conversation was wonderful, and they were very nice about it, but i still felt awful.

compass.  need to remember my compass.

tomorrow i will be mailing a package, stopping at an ATM, and buying a ticket to another ppart of poland for friday, and coming back on sunday.  Then i will do my homework and travel poland by myself, since my flatmate is sick, and i refuse to waste one more free weekend.

i'm trying to ask the people i know if they want to come with me, but it's weird because they're all people i just met.  and the only place i can really afford to stay is in hostels.  and stuff like that.

i was upset this morning, but i made it out anyway

Him: I have been sick. It makes me cough and then *hands up from chest to mouth*
Me: you have to spit?
Him: I feel I have to spit. Yes.
Me: hock a loogey
Him: what? 
Me: hock a loogey. Hock, like *sounds of hocking* and the loogey is the phlem you spit.
Him: I like this!  Hockaloogey. Is it a verb? I hockaloogied?
Me: 'hock' is the verb, so-
Him: "hocked a loogey?"
Me: yes. Technically you could say "masticated".
Him: hocked a loogey is better. Is cooler.  Is like the difference between 'dick' and 'testicles', yes?

So the best thing I did today was teach a nice greek boy the phrase "hock a loogey".

and i'm not going to be travelling to romania this weekend because my flatmates are sick/travelling with erasmus, so instead i've asked my RD to recommend a couple of places in Poland where i might find a good hostel and some pretty architecture.

hey, Jude (some funkier photos)

nobody expects the polish inquisition!

Our main weapon is the ELEMENT OF SURPRISE

bring out the fluffy chair!

Okay so i didnt mention the solar eclipse because seriously there was only a sliver missing and i could only see it if i looked through my sleeve. It didnt even get dim around here.  I was so stoked for the supposed 90% coverage we were going to get that I woke up at 6:30 (two hours early) after going to bed at like 2 (hanging with flatmates) and couldn't go back to sleep.  And the best I could do was look at it for a second through my flippin sleeve.

After that, though, I went back to the antique store and got my Gramma her vase.  Very specific.  And I paid extra for THEM to ship it, so I don't have to worry about it.  We also passed back my St. Anny Church, so we stepped inside because they weren't holding mass, and took pictures all inside.  (I'll include them at the bottom.)  After that, we went to the torture museum.

It was really more of a torture basement.  It was one room, and they normally charge more for a guide, so we passed it up.  But as there were only three of us and it was ONE ROOM (and i asked if i coudl take photos; was not allowed because 'the space is so small'), we got the tour anyway.  We told us the names of all the stuff they had and also what they were used for.  and for free!

People is gross.  That's what i learned.  Also that the idea of people putting women in chastity belts whent hey went away to war is bullshit; women would die if they were in a chastity belt longer than about two weeks.  It was much more for knights and monks  (idk if they would die.  i asked but apparently there aren't a lot of records).  Also that it wasn't super common to have people being tortured.  the threat of torture was a big enough deterrent to render crime fairly irregular.

Today I worked on homework and planning some trips.  Tomorrow i buy tickets to romania with my Flatmate (We're skipping bucharest for now, but i'm tempted to go back-- it's only 6 hours south of Transylvania.) to train and bus to Transylvania over the weekend.  I'm also looking at Scotland and Northern England a week after that, during Easter Break to explore some stuff tied to our family.

RyanAir is amazing, guys.  seriously.

Tonight there was a fancy dinner with a lot of API people.  (I got to meet my RD's wife; she's lovely and is comprising a list of Polish-written books for me to read and also like classical music, so we might go to a few Philharmonic events while I'm here.  I'm SO happy.)  And they asked us all about what we want to do and why are we here and what are we studying and what is the best thing about the place and what do we do for nightlife and what is the worst thing about API. 

I mean I think I fielded the questions pretty well; I had them laughing a few times, so that was good.  One lady was from Spain and she told me a little about the political friction between Barcelona and Madrid, and then I learned about the Polish government and some of what is going on with the dried wheat/flowers here (I'll have to purchase some and tell you about them with pictures).  One dude was from Miami University in Ohio.  Apparently they were founded before the miami in florida?  Idk, i find that hard to believe, but he was pretty insistent.  He asked if there were many expats here and I wondered aloud why people moving TO america are immigrants, but people moving away from america are expats?  And same with britain.  is it just rich white people that get to be patriots?  And he said "because everyone wants to move TO america!"  And I laughed and buried my face in my hands because it's one of the most arrogant things i've ever heard.

One of the appetizers was a brownish cream and so i spread it on a cracker and it tasted creamy and meaty and it wasn't bad.  (it was one of those places so fancy that you have a choice of chicken or fish and for dessert you have cobbler or creme brulee) and I said "I don't know how i feel about this.  It's good, kind of.  I don't know what it is, i don't WANT to know what it is, but it's alright."  My RD said "That's paté."

"...As in the liver of a force-fed goose?  Dude, I said I DIDN'T want to know.  Thanks for that."  but seriously it's not that bad.

Other people instragrammed their foods, but I did not.  you're just going to have to pretend that there was pretentious beautiful food as part of this blog instead.  There was bacon-wrapped chicken ovals, mashed-potato ovals, and an oval of cabbage-type stuff in a small balsamic pool and a border of green pesto.  The chicken was stuffed with prunes-and-nuts, and so i excavated that all out.  It was one of those places that i placed my silverware with the knife down, in-between the tines of the fork (tho to be fair, i forgot and had it at 8 and 4, so i had to fix it) to signal that you were done to the waiters.

Our waiter looked exactly like a young Jean-Claude Van Damme (who i thought was french-canadian, but apparently he's from Belgium?  And i couldn't remember the word 'Belgian' so i thought for a second tonight that it might be "Belgish, but that sounds wrong?").  

I got the Creme Brulée and it was perfect (i assume, it was good and i've never had it before) and it had berry sorbet in a perfect sphere on top and on top of THAT was a perfect tiny mint leaf.

I also cleaned a bunch today (taking out the garbage, scrubbing the bathroom, removing the recycling, hiding the empty booze bottles left over from when we've had visitors.) and am about 1/3rd of the way done with my final project.  I have to figure out what i'm going to say, but i'm using my powerpoint as note cards (and will have a page of notes) and i'm very excited about it.  I told the Spanish lady next to me about what i want to do and told her about my project and she said that it seems very interesting and admirable that i want to change so much about something so wrong and said my project seems very interesting.  (I will strategically be working on my homework when they show up tomorrow.)  And my room is cluttered, but it's not like i have underwear hanging out, so im probably just going to leave it somewhat as-is.   

Anyway, here's the church, instead of my food.

angels positively dripping off 

the fuck you lookin' at?

and me!

strange customs

Yesterday I went in search of a store that will sell a crystal vase, because my grandmother wired me some money, and so I'm going to buy her what she wants, and she wants "Polish Crystal."  What i found was that if i am chewing on a hangnail while i walk through the square, a man will ask me if my finger tastes good.  and if i grin and blithely say "yep", as i walk past, he will respond "can i taste, too?"

AH HA HA HA HA HHHAAAA HAAAAHHHAAAAA creepy!

NO.

Also while i was walking down the road my RD told me to look for ("this is the weirdest and best question any student has ever asked me."  he says.  My goal in life, people.  Weirdest and best.  Whaddup.) i saw a shope with really cool-looking antiques in the window, so i went to step in.  3 older men all turned to look at me, and the clerk behind the counter stared confused.  I looked around at all of them, crowded but also not moving away from the door, and only had time to say "wh-" before one of the men said, very firmly "This is man's shop."

to which i burst out laughing, apologized, and stepped right back out.

I now consider my trip a failure because I didn't think to say "I am man", very firmly, back.

I SHOULD HAVE DONE THAT.  MY SOUL IS SO SAD.

But yeah, apparently there are shops where women are definitely not welcome.  Probably doing ritual animal sacrifice.

...Bitches.

Anyway, instead of a crystal shop, I found a very cool differenter antique shoppe, and they had a lot of really pretty/neat things, and I tallked to the main lady and she told me that they didn't have any polish crystal yet, but that i should come back tomorrow, and they they'd have some.

So i came back today and they still didn't have any. i go back tomorrow.

but another thing i did was find my favoritest spot in all of Krakow.  Massolit bookstore.  It's an american-run bookstore and there are couches and chairs and all of the books are in english and it's one of those places where there's only one of each book and there are just piles and pile and you can only file by genre and it smells like old books and  *dreamy sigh*.

let me just.

and can i.

do you see?

oh this is so sudden.  i.  i've never had a bookstore talk dirty to me.

and on the way back, we stopped into a church.  we couldn't actually go in because they were holding mass, but look how beautiful.

TUNE IN TOMORROW TO SEE WHAT I'VE GOTTEN INTO NEXT.

short and sweet

Been doing classes.  I have to tell you about me 'Poland as a Work of Art' class at some point. For serious.  And I have started using a planner coz I have to keep all the things straight. But tomorrow and friday are for errands and homework. looking forward to planning small trips.  I rhink I want to stick more to central and eastern europe. I will get to see more for less money.

Had my first language course today.

Is hard.

Here is something I found just from walking on the other side of the street!

Julia Streetview

Today I missed my class because even tho I wrote down 1300-1500, I actually remember just "3-5".  So i'm a derp.  BUT I am taking you along Grodska street so you can see what it looks like on my walk to my language class. Because it's freaking stunning, and I wish I could take you along with me and show you what little I do know. 

 This is one of the churches I pass.  It's got 12 saints, two are women.  I stood in the street for five minutes waiting for the cloud to pass so that the saints were back in the sunlight.  i must've looked like a goob, lol. 

this is, I think, a cloister than nuns still use.  every church here is old as the dirt it was founded on and every time a guide would tell you about one, they would finish the schpeal with "it's still in use."

Yeah. Mary Magdelene.  And I bet you can guess how well they esteemed her.

This is Her square. It is tiny. And empty. the statue in the middle is of a dude.

at the end of the street, which is more like a trident, in the middle, there is a tiny church.  Idk the name of it, but i am sure it's still in use 

to left of the third tine of the trident, at the absolute end of the corner, this is a church across the street.  

The third tine of the trident is Wawel hill. This is the view from the corner with the church pictured directly above.

this is the closer view of that church. 

Oscar Schindler's Factory

First of all, let me apologize right off the bat for not really getting you more than just a couple of pictures.

BASIC HISTORY OF OSCAR SCHINDLER: DUDE (not a great man, just a man) WHO WANTED TO MAKE A CRAPTON OF MONEY OFF CHEAP LABOR IN WWII MOVES TO NAZI-OCCUPIED POLAND AND STARTS UP A FACTORY TO PROFIT OFF CHEAP LABOR.  Then. as the war goes on, he eventually brings more Jews into his factory, and ends up building a better-conditions ghetto for them, and also ends up keeping them alive.  He evacuated them, towards the end of the war, and many of the staff's families, and kept them safe.  So he was a regular man who did a great thing.

Watch Schindler's List.

One of the first parts of the museum included a section on what Poland was like fo rthe Germans, including a lot of the atrocities the SS would pull, including stuff like transporting 7 (i think intelligensia?) Poles to be publicly executed, where the Soldiers made the jews not only actually hang the men, but also bury them.  Apparently the Nazis would run around taking pictures to use in their Propaganda.  Also it had a repro display of one of the cells that they'd house people in and torture them.  Next to this display in a tiny alcove was "A box made from human skin" and when i went to peak in (which i wasn't originally even going to do, except that i kept thinking of the Necronomicon and got curious) it looked so much like normal brown leather it made me feel sick and i had to immediately work not to start breaking down into sobs; i just couldn't take any more pictures.

across from this were some of the photos taken of the 7 men from that first public execution.  Hanged.

There were also some repros of panzer tanks and the guns attached and the guide we had was like "maybe the boys will know what i'm talking about" and i got insulted, but said nothing.  There were also some amazing displays of life-size photos and explanations, and then when you looked below, there were jutted-out cabinet displays of the artifacts used by people.  Coins, medals, dolls, letters, clothes, stamps, and guns.

In this room, every single tile is a white square with a black swastika, and it's both alarming and uncomfortable, but then you realize people are WALKING on it, so maybe it's supposed to be symbolic of triumph and not letting such a legacy rise up again.  The guide explained only that during nazi occupation, swastikas were like the flag; never to be on the ground or below someone's feet.  and also that the tiles were made especially for this museum.

one part of the museum is very dark and is made of a stone floor and a broken brick ceiling.  The ceiling is meant to symbolize the lack of hope of the jews of escape, and the walls are repro ghetto walls.  I can't really describe the shape very well, except maybe to say that they were long rectangles with semicircles at the top.



Like so (this is the last section of the Krakow ghetto wall).  but as a dark, narrow hallway, in a building.  These are the shapes that Jewish gravestones take.  This fence/wall went all the way around the ghetto, and they made the Jews build it.  (of course).  in the museum, this part is hot and suffocating and claustrophobic.

Only a small part of the building is actually Dedicated to Oscar Schindler, where they kept the original files, one of the desks, the floors, and some of the pots made.  the floors are incredibly loud, especially if you get a lot of people in their at once, because the wood is old and it squeaks a LOT.  in his office, there is a hollow column that you can walk through that is silver (like the metal of the factory) and painted with lists of the names of people saved by Schindler.  About eye level (i'm 5'10") or a little higher, on the right, as you exit through the tube, you see five people with the last name "Katz"  Or, anyway, i did. and it struck me that he saved an entire family.  Each one of those names was a person.  and those were a family.

After exiting those rooms, there are examples of propaganda on the walls.  Gross caricatures of soviets gabbingbup women and jews bentnover money and transactions. We were moving too fast to get a good look at them, but back home we should fucking change the redskins and the chiefs to something else.  Goddamn.

The museum is in chronological order, and also has multimedia displays, and is crowded, but our guide was loud enough to be heard, and (though we picked up 2 or 3 people as we went), we were half the size of the group from the underground tour.  As you exit the museum, you stop in a white room with bits of text in 6 different languages.  Polish, English, Russian, German, Hebrew, and I think the last one must have been Czech, or something.  Of course, all I could read were the snippets of english, and there are also spinning pillars (the last spinning pillars we saw were in the German part, so it was really interesting symmetry there) with these snippets of story.

the room smells like crayons, because if you touch the walls, they're warm.  They are coated in wax, so that you realize that these stories are living, and made up of humanity, and as you walk out towards the exit, there are portraits hung up of the jews saved by Oscar Schindler, and you learn that the way he survived for the rest of his days was through the money given him by those same saved Jews.

the speech of the gestapo in Jagiellonian when they closed it down.

death poster with a list of names of people to be executed.

bootstraps

I got my language classes scheduled, and i have one on monday (which was previously free) and one on wednesday night.  like.  niiiiight.  7-9:30pm.  but whatever, that's my firday night.  that's right.  i only have classes mon-wed.  which means that i have four days a week i can attempt to travel.  even to just different parts of poland.  i have no idea HOW to do that, but hopefully i can figure it out or go with some of my classmates.

It's about 37 and rainy here today, which means it feels like home.  I've spent an hour or so walking around, trying to find the book i need for class.  i think the book is going to be a reasonable price, but seriously if you can afford the crazy expense of actually getting there, i took out 500zł, and it cost about $140.  so ACTUALLY BEING HERE is legitimately affordable.

you know.  provided you have USD saved up.

and i mean, i have no idea WHERE TO FIND the book...  but whatever.

Anyway, i forgot how good it feels to walk around so much.  i've never regularly walked before, but i have had periods in which i exercise regularly, so maybe what i'm feeling is endorphins.  two flights of stairs only winds me a little now.  so that's nice.  i can stick both arms down my pants at once.  i don't think i was able to do that, before.

i mean i don't really care about slimming down, but it's kind of cool to be less tired at the end of the day, and then when i do sleep, sleep better and for only 8 or 9 hours.  so far i don't even really need my alarm.  it's cool.

sorry for the emotions, this morning.  I've recovered.

:)

enough is too much

I don't have a problem being enough. I have never had a problem with being enough. No. My problem is being too much. My problem is being too loud, and too hyper, and too quick, and too enthusiastic. And too blunt. And too thoughtless, and too nice, and too trusting...

too, man.

too is an amount that describes every bit of who and what i am. it's never quantifiable, but you sure as hell know it when you encounter it.

People keep asking me "How's Poland?" And i know it's a natural question, so i always like to answer with the weather, or how pretty this architecture is. Until this morning.

"How's Poland?"

Big and beautiful. And made of stone. It's cold, here. It's been here for centuries, and people have come and gone and it's been altered, sure. But it's also endured, and to have done that, it's been made entirely of rock. There's almost no trees left, because the Tartars kept ransacking and burning the place. So it's hard to find life. People don't smile, here. Very few make eye contact. The ones that do mostly all just look away and don't smile back. I don't know anyone, and i don't know the language, and so i am surrounded by people, but it is legitimately isolating.

It reminds me of myself. I'm this stone city, beautiful to look at and inhabit, but no one has made me feel alive in centuries. It's cold, and can be chipped away at and altered, but no one really makes it their home. It's overwhelming, sometimes. Too many secret ways and unused passages. Too many ways to get lost, so people stick to the main paths, and then are done being tourists.

"It's cloudy this morning, lol."

I have got to start making plans to see more of europe. I am on this continent, i owe it to myself and to the love of my parents who sent me here, and to the beautiful support of my friends to see as much and enjoy myself to the fullest that i possibly can. It doesn't matter than i get lost easily and have no idea where to go. It matters that make myself uncowardly enough to try.

it's just that this morning all i can think about is the fact that i don't have someone. i miss having someone. I've always been too much for someone, but goddamn, i miss that connection. i miss relaxing. i miss touching. i miss taking their arm and putting it around my waist. I miss them tightening their hold, and burying their face in my hair. i miss not having to say anything, just seeing them and being comforted.

i haven't had that for over a year.

And i mean, no, i will not be giving up my muchness.  And being single isn't so bad, really.  it's not.  I can do whatever i want and not have to worry.  I can say whatever i feel and it's not a huge deal if i say the wrong thing.  the line between lodestone and millstone is incredibly thin. And i mean, I know i'm not a city, i know i'm not Krakow, nor have i ever been invaded by Tartars... that metaphor... I'm a whole damned continent, or something. maybe. but whatever. anyway.

It's just that today my loneliness is heavy to carry.  

And i mean i am writing this so that i can put it down and laugh and grin and ignore it for the rest of the day.  so it's cool, don't worry about me, but yeah.  

Today, this morning, being enough is too much.

underground museum

Your today, which had a "no flash photography" rule, which is better than a "no photographs at all" rule.  I got some decent ones. Including one of a super old book which may be my favorite photo in Poland so far (not my best, just my favorite.)

I can't recommend doing the museum with a guide. The museum works really hard at being engaging and giving you an experience, but that means that there are speakers all over, and weird music or sounds are being cultivated as every display.  And there are a lot of projections so you can watch repros of ancient life being lived.  The city was founded 1257 which is almost a full 100 years before Jagiellonian was a thing. And the whole idea is that the city was founded about 20ish feet lower than the city is now.  It was slowly built up over three hundred years by peeople dumping their shit and then laying sand on top.  It was excavated between 1995 and 2010.

Anyway, go by yourself.  All the noise means you can't hear any guide, anyway.  Also be aware that for some reason it smells like chlorine. And the ceilings are low, so watch that if you have claustrophobia. Also the whole souvenir shop is the size of one market stall.  Just ao you know.  But the history is important and interesting, so I would do it again, maybe, just not with a group or guide.

This is a model of the city that has a skylight from the square.  It's a little like the louvre; the outside bit is a glass pyramid. 

UGH SO PRETTY I CAN'T

HA. Suck it. 

skull on top, 1000 year old and they opened his cranium. skull on bottom and one vertabrae, 200 years old.  And therefore less interesting.

bottom of sculpture outside  

OH ALSO.  I walked by a coffee shop today and three guys help up numbers. 

Two nine's and a 10. 

I mean, that's tantamount to catcalling which, on principle, i disapprove of.  And it feels condescending. But i fully admit it made me grin for about an hour, afterwards.

me and this awesome scarf.

Okay so here are some photos of me out and about yesterday.

My flatmate (one of them, anyway) and I sitting on a bench in Wawel.

standing in front of St Mary's, before our illicit covert ops

Today, I will have you know that i ordered food at the market all in polish.  I am sure i mangled the grammar, but i got greeting, item, amount, paid for it, thanked them, and said goodbye.  BOOYAH. 

Also okay so there has been this scarf i have been staring at in class for about two weeks, just draped over a radio behind the teacher's desk, and no one has moved it or touched it and i want it because it says "jagiellonian university of krakow" in Polish and it's university colors and has the university seal on it.   Mind you, i went to the university souvenir shop and they AREN'T SELLING THEM.  they don't even have hats, they just have shirts and pens and magnets and stuff. 

I have been desiring to just take it, because SERIOUSLY. IT'S BEEN SITTING THERE.  WHAT THE FRICKKITY FRACK. 

Instead, i asked my professor this morning if she knew who it belonged to, because i want to buy one but the shop doesn't even HAVE them.  She said "no, but it's been sitting there since at least last week, right?" And i said "yeah, it has." And she goes "so you know what that means, right?"

AND SHE TOSSED IT TO ME!  

YEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS

Seriously, this is probably one of the only souviners i want to/am going to keep for myself, and i think the absolute best part is that i couldn't even buy it.  It is just OF AND FROM my university.  I am so ecstatic about this. :3