Times change, and so do we.

I am at the Gloriette overlooking Schoenbrunn Palace and the entirety of Vienna.
I am sitting on petrified wood, legs dangling over the edge of one of Theodore Roosevelt National Park's dusty buttes.
I am at the tip of the Washington Monument.

Regardless of place and time, I feel I have reached a summit.

Since October, there have been many changes/decisions to make:

-I graduated with honors in December. "What do you do with a BA in English???"
-Turned 23 and am no longer an applicable target for Taylor Swift's "22" (THANK JEEBUS)
-Obtained a temp job with an insurance agency. Pros: slowly mastering office life, have an income. Cons: Office Ass, too much energy to be contain on a chair in front of a computer, still don't know what I want out of life.
-Finalized plans to return to NoDak for a second round of seasonal alcoholism and a higher position with a really shitty pay increase.
-Quit smoking
-REGISTERED FOR MY FIRST HALF MARATHON

I have been an athlete since I was 3. I participated in dance, baseball, softball, soccer, basketball, and cheerleading. I only became a runner when I was 17 and about to become a high school senior. I played on a girls' soccer team as a junior and was out of shape and slower than I'd like to have been. I couldn't keep up with other players and I hated it. One day something changed in me and I woke up feeling empowered, determined and energized. During the summer I trained myself to run hard and run often. I began making healthier eating choices. When school started again, I signed up for a gym membership, which I still have today, 5 years later. I ran the fastest mile of my entire travel soccer team, which I also joined that summer and played with in the fall. Then spring arrived, and I was twice the player I had been the previous year. It felt so good. I was a starting player and was also voted to be one of the team captains.

I'm still not sure how or why these moments of abrupt change manifest themselves in my life.
And I am so happy they do. I have to work hard to stay in shape and maintain my figure. And I love running. I've wanted to run a race like this since I started running. My high school didn't have a track team, so I never had the opportunity to train. However, I have run 6 separate 5k races in the last 5 years, so I'm somewhat familiar with the atmosphere of distance running.

This half marathon will be an enitrely different experience, most certainly. 13.1 miles. I can't wait. I felt registering before I leave for NoDak will keep me focused and motivated all summer, and running in the bad lands is a truly unique experience.

I am writing this post to savor the feelings I am experiencing, to organize a time line of sorts of my progress, to pat myself on the back and to have something to look to for motivation. While I am often unable to commit to many things or people, I feel I am committed to running. That's one thing, more than nothing!

Class Blogging...again

Farrington's “Kissing”

The structure of this piece could have been chosen to allow for endless expansion at the hands of the reader. The number of external excerpts suit the piece in that they allow for a variety of creative inputs to expand on what the writer may have wanted to say or what was unable to fit within the piece. Many of the excerpts convey a shallower, more distanced insight into kissing, while Farrington's personal revelations offer a more emotional, layered perspective. The way he separates and scrambles time and incidences of kissing keeps the reader interested, as do the italicized excerpts.

Crafting the Personal Essay – Memoir Prompt

Body image is one of the most weighted things that, for so many people I know, is tainted with a negativity that controls their lives. When I was a child, I was “too skinny”. I think a lot of parents were jealous because my body remained lanky until I was 13, while their children became plump once they turned 8 or 9. Then, until sophomore year of high school, it was all about boobs. Whose were bigger? Who didn't have any? Who was hottest in the boys' eyes? People always complimented my legs. But I never liked my chest in high school. I also hated that my stomach was never flat or smooth. It was just naturally lumpy. Every bad thing that entered my body went there, like it was a reserve. To this day I struggle to keep my stomach small and tight to my ribs. I'm so meticulous about this that I work out no less than four days a week. [I also love endorphins, but the underlying motivation is my need to stay as small as possible...which, right now, isn't even that small.]

So My Class Requires Me To Blog...

...And I refuse to create another. So, temporarily, I'll pick up with activities and shit for Creative Non-Fiction. LOL.


9/9 CPE Ch. 3,4

"Memoir is not about "look at me, look at me," at least not when done well. Instead it is about trying to understand vexing mysteries of human existence."

I found this quote appealing for what are likely self-centered reasons. I went through a period during which I only read memoirs and autobiographical writings, and I enjoyed them so much because found them to reveal so many truths about life.

"...metaphors have a way of holding the most truth in the least space..."

Aha, this has summarized even the basic importance of a metaphor. This is so true, and emphasizes that metaphors should not be under-estimated. I have always appreciated a good metaphor, and some people get them right every time.

p. 18 exercise -> gesture

I always knew when he was upset, always before he knew how obvious it was. The creases in his 28-year-old skin instantly sunk deeper into his pale, reddening face as his nerves began to race. He never looked at me, but instead, always at something between my feet. Occasionally his eyes would flicker and try to look at mine, but they never stayed fixed there for more than a second. Between blades of blonde hair, his forehead rolled together as he parted his lips, perhaps half an inch, as if the two parts were connected.  And god was he fidgety. He'd cross his legs and bounce his right foot, causing the whole of his long, skinny body to undulate rapidly with it.

It's been a long, long year.

Life really is as simple as simple can be. 

Regardless of people, places, time, emotions, age, change, life and death, at the end of the day you don't how the next day will dawn any more than your neighbor does.

You can have expectations and preconceived notions, but your roll of the dice is as good as mine. The odds are infinite within their respective limitations. 

And these realizations are what brought me to this moment- from the color of my hair to the food digesting within my intestines to the people I think of most to the exact location from which I am typing this [which, honestly, marks the first time I have written anything in months]. 

The last time I posted in this blog, I was sitting comfortably on an internship, a nearly completed college career, a seemingly solid romantic relationship, and an image I hoped might become The Rest Of My Life.

Well, I've never been very certain about anything, but as mentioned, I was comfortable, and comfort is a very deceiving anchor.

Since last summer I have added an academic minor, signed two different housing leases [one of which I have handed over to someone else], failed a college class [first ever, due not to my lack of intelligence but rather distance], lost two friends to fatal accidents, lost a cat due to a failed relationship, lost a best friend and boyfriend, moved 1600 miles west, became a seasonal employee and alcoholic, supported myself financially and stopped predicting any aspect of my life.

Not that I've handed over responsibility or the reigns. 

I've just realized that anchors can and will move and there should be no limitations on youth, let alone any human existence.

So, here I am, in the "small ranching town of Medora, North Dakota" where Theodore Roosevelt spent much of his time prior to his presidency.

How did I land myself a home in the middle of the Badlands?

Rachel, my longtime friend and college housemate, met a girl named Kayla who lives in the next town east of Medora. They were both studying in France over a year ago and bonded over music and their love of the French culture. Last summer, Rachel drove by herself to visit Kayla and fell in love with North Dakota and the midwest. Prior to our college graduation in May, Rachel decided she would return to the area to work for the Theodore Roosevelt Medora Foundation, a non-profit organization that was founded to preserve the history and beauty of the town of Medora. The foundation hires seasonal employees to help maintain the tourism industry of Medora during the summer. There is a wide variety of jobs available- housekeeping, hospitality, food preparation and serving, groundskeeping, horse stables, gift shops, etc. 

I had intended to spend my summer working at home in Lebanon, where I had a well-paying summer job waiting for me. Two weeks into the summer, I felt restless and decided to uproot and try something new. I applied for a position with the foundation later than most people, but three days later I had a job waiting for me. And here I am.

I bought a Greyhound ticket and boarded in Maryland without looking back.

I am two days away from being here for two months. I work six days a week at the Family Fun Center, where families can come to ride the world's largest inflatable water slide, a bungee trampoline and a rock wall.

My time spent in Medora has been the most fun I've had my entire life. 

Perhaps I'll detail this more later. 

Southwestern Perspective

Now that it's been a good year since I've logged into Blogger, it shouldn't be surprising that I've forgotten my password. But I'm once again situated, and it's good to be back.
When it comes to the internet, I feel like I have a summer home, a winter home, a city and a countryside hideaway. Or basically that I have no writing limits because I have homes on most of these social networking/blogging websites. Xanga, MySpace, Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter...I even have a LiveJournal somewhere. Name dropping, not really necessary. But it is interesting how each of these domains possesses its own set of unspoken conduct codes. Overstep one and everyone will talk about it (if only in their heads). For example, if you spell out your day-to-day boyfriend/girlfriend trials, you're probably not looking too popular, unless your friends are also exactly like you. Not that people view these websites as popularity contests. Not that people are aware of their appearance to others. But in actuality, having a foot in each of these doors is fun (and painful) for various reasons.

Now, it takes something swift and strong to urge me to return to something I had abandoned over a year ago.
This summer's motivation: my internship.

I was inspired and encouraged to revive this little side-project, which saved me from myself the first summer I traveled abroad, also the first major trip I'd made by myself.

Her advice was to become a blogger for the sake of my professional and creative careers. The best part about this is that I'm already a blog enthusiast. I have maintained a personal Xanga since I was 13, and it's helped me develop writing, communication and technical skills.

Though I haven't decided exactly what I should write about, I declare this to be a first step in that direction.

I'm plugged in!

UPDATE

Mein Essen! Sauerkraut mit Brot und Knoedeln!


I've been slacking on keeping this blog up to date with everything my class has been doing in Vienna.
We've been all over the U-Bahn, as well as the city itself. Last week we went on a three-hour-long walking tour of the Secession, visiting various architectural structures, learning about and identifying works of Jugendstil (Youthful Style).
Last night we experienced our first Viennese opera- "Silome"-in the beautiful, regal Staatsoper.
We've visited Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele exhibits, studied numerous pieces of Fin-de-Siecle Vienna art.
And we've had free time to explore the city as young adults.

Here's a photo recap of some of the highlights of my trip as of...today.


In the gardens of Schloss Schoenbrunn, prior to a terrific downpour as well as a visit to the Imperial Zoo at Schoenbrunn.

Egon Schiele, an unfinished work.
Schiele interests me because he painted humans with very distinct features.
Also, he died at the age of 28. I assumed suicide to be the cause (all great artists seem to have some sort of psychological issue present); in reality, this man contracted the Spanish Influenza and died, as did his pregnant wife.

Art above a statue of...Mozart? I believe... In the Stadtpark.

University of Vienna. Students attend University here for free...but this is apparently supposed to change. Students may, in the future, have to pay around 4oo Euros to attend. What outrage! If only I were so lucky!

A view overlooking Schoenbrunn and Vienna, from a bridge in the Imperial Zoo.



GUINEA PIGS. They have their own exhibit at the Imperial Zoo.

Gustav Klimt's "Death and Life"


Hopefully I'll be better at consistantly updating....

Donnerstag

Today marks our second full day in Vienna!

We arrived safely in London early Tuesday morning (in Eastern European time...approx. 7 AM) and transferred flights, entering Vienna after 1 PM (Vienna time).

I slept maybe one hour total throughout the entire plane ride, so I had to catch up on my sleep Tuesday night.

I have had little down time to take my computer down to the lounge in the hostel (where we have internet access) so I haven't been able to give anyone an update (sorry parents!!!)

I'll try to do a detailed entry in here tonight of the activities of the past two days. We don't have a required event this evening, so I should have time.

Bis spaeter!

Thesis-ing

I'm contemplating the topic of my upcoming thesis (based on the info. studied in our course.)
We haven't gotten to Vienna yet, but I already know where my interest lie.

The work of this man:


Gustav Klimt.

Now, last summer I only began to taste the power and abstract flavors of his paintings. I saw 'The Kiss' at Belvedere, and bought a gallery guide so as to carry his and other artists' work with me when I returned to America . Now, we're studying him as a major character during Fin-de-siecle Vienna. I think I could dig up some good information/fuse some good arguments about him. He had an interesting peprsonality, as I understand it. And I feel like I can relate to his rate of artistic growth...or something like that.

We're sitting through our final day of America-based classes in Caffe Amadeus on Philadelphia Street in Indiana. Had an espresso-based beverage; now I'm jacked. I just wanted to record a thought or two for today. I'm heading home after class to back and say hello and goodbye to friends and family.

Bis spaeter!

Sigmund

Today we're dissecting Sigmund!



And I don't mean the Sea Monster!




I mean the immortal psychoanalyst. The Vienna-dwelling clinician and scientist.

Mr. Sigmund Freud.

Klassen...

Today is Thursday, May 13th. It is Day 4 of prep class for the Fin-de-siecle Vienna trip (which departs in 4 days [!!!!!]) Currently, we are dissecting a chapter on Gustav Klimt, who happens to be one of my favorite figures (let alone artists) of Fin-de-siecle Vienna.

What is 'Fin de siecle," you ask?

'Fin de siecle,' as defined by the class's professor Dr. Baumer, is 'a rich period in Viennese history between roughly 1880 and 1914.' Carl Schorske uses this term to mean 'end-of-the-century' as well.

So basically this course is focused on the people, politics, art, arhitecture, music, science, etc. that were of significance during this time in Vienna, Austria.

We have lecture/discussion from 9 AM to noon Monday through Saturday. In the afternoon we reconvene for German lessons/ Viennese culture introduction. It's interesting- I haven't taken a real history class since high school. Now I'm focusing on a brief (but crucial) period in Viennese history, and I like it, a lot.

More updates to come. I've never been abroad with a professor of music history to lead me, and 20-some classmates to accompany me. Museums and concerts and fun to the 100000th degree.

=]



I am lucky.

Infection

I received word a few days prior to Winter Break that I've been accepted into a senior synthesis class, offered through the Robert E. Cook Honors College, that will take me back to Vienna this May.

I am ecstatic.

See you on 5/18/10, Liebe Wien.

My Camera Threw Up...On This Blog

Friday classes are always antsy. I was expecially tired, and it showed. But we had a "substitute" instructor because Antonia could not make it in. She was very outgoing and helpful. She was also more experienced with explaining German to students (she would dramatize certain verbs to give us a better understanding of what they mean.)

After class, the lovely ladies in my DeutschAkademie Klasse were asking me about my stay here in Vienna and when I would return to America. When I explained that I will leave in 7 days, they were all in shock...and so was I. I have been in this city for 21 days, and I am only now beginning to appreciate it, appreciate the culture and the language and the people. Shoot, I thought a month would be excessive. Really, I know I need to return to Europe. I intend to study here for an entire semester junior year. I have to. This has been the greatest, single most important thing that has happened to me. And the cultural immersion and experience has surpassed my expectations. I could rave for hours...

Eunsuk (I just checked the spelling, and I am proud to say that I got it on the first try), from South Korea, told me about Pizza Bizi, an incredibly delicious joint near Stephansdom that I needed to test out. Sure enough, I did- she decided that she, Rita, Helga and I would go there for lunch because everyone- except me- was hungry. So we went and I ordered a slice (which is actually the size of 2 American slices put together...hello, Folger! [IUP]) with pepperoni, ham, onion and cheese. YUM. But I was terribly full.
I had decided prior to class that if rain was nowhere in sight I would visit the permanent art exhibit in Oberes Belvedere. Lucky for me and my sanity, it was sunny for the majority of the afternoon. So I walked to the lovely landmark, purchased a student ticket, and stepped into the overwhelmingly beautiful exhibit.

Three floors of paintings, busts, large-windowed rooms and historical flavor. I could taste and feel the luxury of Oberes Belvedere and every room hit me with a new wave of appreciation. My favorite portions of the collections: Franz Xaver Messerschmidt's "Character Heads" and, of course (not to sound like the typical tourist) Gustav Klimt's various works. I had never been interested in Klimt...and then I got a good look at his works in the Gallery Guide to Belvedere. I was in awe at first glimpse. And "The Kiss" was not my only favored piece (though it ranks at the top-I bought a deck of playing cards displaying this masterpiece.) I also enjoyed his nature-oriented paintings as well. Messerschmidt's "Character Heads" was unlike anything I have ever seen. This collection is so well-known because it was the first to exhibit human facial expressions in an honest, accurate and exaggerated (wow, that was almost a contradiction) way. They appear "exaggerated" because they display every wrinkle and line that the muscles and skin produce when creating a certain expression (e.g. "A Hanged Man") Brilliant and striking, most definitely.

I didn't buy a ticket to the exhibit in the lower half of Belvedere, but I wish I would have because this collection focuses on more contemporary art of the 20th and 21st centuries. I was supposed to go to Donauinselfest with Rita that evening, but we decided against it because Helga backed out and we were somewhat tired and unenthusiastic.

Saturday I took Eunsuk's advice and decided to visit the MAK (Museum fuer Angewandte Kunst/Museum for Applied Art.) On Saturdays the entrance is free, which appealed to me very mush. I was amazed at the variety of art this museum contained. There was porcelain, glass, metal, textile, paint from the Baroque and Renaissance to the 20th and 21st centuries. This was my first real, adult experience with a massive art exhibit, and I know I made the right decision to visit. I thought of my roommate, Alison Terndrup, because I was able to recall endless nights when she would be sitting in the middle of our dorm room floor finishing art projects, many of which accidentally sought to imitate the works house in the MAK.

I'd like this set in my house, mostly because it is vibrant.

Aluminum sofa!

My twin...

Lips. To sit upon. Some call this a sofa.

Need to take a load off?

Cardboard on top. Potential face on bottom.

I like this, a lot.

I would not want to have to blow from those nostrils.

Saturday evening was the big night: Donauinselfest 2009! I woke John from his much-needed (NOT!) afternoon nap. We picked up some treats for Rita and too the U-Bahn to Nussdorfer Strasse to meet her and Helga and Andreas, Helga's brother. We jumped on the jam-packed metro and took it to the station on the insel. What. A. Crowd. It took us at least 10 minutes to get out of the station and into the flow headed into the festival. And then we had to gradually squeeze our way toward the main stage where Snow Patrol would be playing. There were adolescents and adults, couples and rowdy gangs of friends, beer, beer and more beer. Everywhere. But we got ourselves situated before the stage, though we could barely see it. Snow Patrol came on and played "Chasing Cars," "Chocolate," and a few others- the titles have escaped me. They performed rather well, though John did not find them too pleasing. Of course we all needed to go to the bathroom, so the men found simple places to do their business, while Helga, Rita and I had to walk in circles to find Port-a-Pottys. And the two of them didn't even wait in line for one. I decided to wait until we returned to the hostel because I already felt filthy. A pair of young boys attempted to jip an entire line of ladies to go to the bathroom. John and Andreas almost had to get mean with them, and the women at the front of the line cursed at them in both German and English, telling them to "piss on a tree." Amusing, indeed.The group stayed to watch Scooter, a middle-aged man with urine-blonde hair who reached his peak of popularity in the 1990s. I did not care much for his performance, but I did enjoy watching drunken young men dance on top of food trailers, followed by the two Swiss men who hit on Rita and Helga. John and I bailed around midnight so that we would not get caught in the crowd post-Scooter. It took an hour to get to Westbahnhof (30 to actually reach the U-Bahn station!) We went to McDonalds for dinner...er...late night snack. And I stayed awake until 4:00 to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's (I was in need of some comfort, classic and Audrey-style)

Donauinselfest 2009

From upper left: E.T., John, Rita, Andreas and Helga

Rita! She is gorgeous.

This morning, yet another Sunday morning, I woke up after only 6 hours of sleep. So I bought coffee and went outside to read an Austrian newspaper/tabloid. The cover feature was Michael Jackson's death, and I read the article in German (not thoroughly, but I understood enough of it to get a good feel for what happened to him!) That was when I met Jacob, an Austrian only 9 years younger than my parents, who was in the city for the Donauinselfest. He spoke fluent German, and I did my best to keep up. Somehow I ended up telling him that I had yet to visit Schoenbrunn, and that was when he suggested we go. It was drizzling off and on at this point, but I was eager to find something to do with my day. So I agreed and put on a jacket.

Jacob offered to act as my photographer...

View from the front steps of Schoenbrunn. The entire city awaits beyond the gates.

Front steps. Blink!


View over the center of the garden toward Gloriette.

Stunning. To put it simply.

More detail. And look at the hills and clouds.

Massive Fountain No. 2

This made me laugh to myself. Kids in rainboots in a rather large puddle. Oh, and yet another fountain...

Proper German spelling. I don't have an umlaut key.

Random tidbits:

>I was browsing the shoe empire in Humanic. Sara Bareilles came over the radio- "Morning Sicle." It was a profound moment because I had been thinking earlier about how in Vienna the only American music played is the cliche, nauseating pop junk that Americans overplayed three months ago. Way to go, Sara. You do not fit a single one of those negative descriptions. You are true talent, and it's excellent to know that Europeans know and appreciate you.

>Viennese (and I assume European) shoe stores know what's good in fashion. I would prefer to shop in Austria over America ANY day. Everyone here cares about what's on their feet. I have yet to see filthy shoes.

>Michael Jackson passed away on Thursday. On Friday, I passed a bar and guess what was playing on the flat-screen TV? "Beat It." God certainly has an interesting method...Farrah, Ed, Michael. We actually discussed his passing in class. Everyone was in disbelief. I am so proud of my mother for owning his vinyls...and a turn-table on which to play them. I am more proud of my parent's tastes in music. (This blog is turning into Xanga...sorry for deviating from my educational Austrian experiences...)

Some pictures I stole from Helga:

Daniela, our cultural guide! And Rita. Lovely women. Oh, and one element of the Jugendstil tour in the background (Otto Wagner.)

This is the Melange I got at Mocca Cafe next to Naschmarkt. Decor!

I returned to my room after Schoenbrunn to discover a new addition to the 02 club. A young girl was asleepon top of her blankets. I then took a nap as well, waking to the sound of her voice asking John about restaurants. She greeted me with a friendly "hello" and I proceeded to ask her name. "Franka." Lovely! Turns out she is 19, from Berlin, here in Vienna to audition for a role in something Shakespeare. We hunted for dinner together, settling for sushi at Red Bean. Within minutes we were already talking about travel and her life in Berlin as well as her hopes for the future. She is into fashion design and showed me her friend's fashion blog, an incredibly professional site. She loves film, Audrey Hepburn, the idea of the Asian exotic and having a good time. The American Civil War interests her and she wants to travel to see the southern states. Wow, she was endlessly interesting and we had more than a lot in common. Unfortunately, tonight will probably be her only night in the hostel, unless she gets a callback at the theater.

It's always reassuring to meet people so fresh and full of life. It reminds you that you are not alone, that the city is not dead. Franka and I share the same blood- vivacious, eager and passionate.

I only got to know her for 6 hours. But those 6 hours changed my mood.

I have 4 days to savor Wien. I am aching already.

Rain On Me, Baby

The past three days have been relatively...wet. Rain rain rain all over Vienna. My Monday walk to class was dry- cloudy, but free of precipitation. I had planned to return to Belvedere, but when class let out the sky was already puking. So I took the U-Bahn with Rita to return to Westbahnhof. Basically, I melted into the sofa in the lounge; there was nothing to do. I hung around the Hostel, mostly with John, waiting for something to happen...and it didn't. So I took and hour and a half off from vegitating and walked to the end of Mariahilfer and back, browsing stores. Traffic on this street is even more ridiculous when the weather is unkind- umbrellas poking everywhere, hobos huddling under overhangs, teenagers zig-zagging around the elderly...

I chose to buy nothing, and rather donated time to reflecting and contemplating in Pfarre Mariahilf, a Roman Catholic church resting a few feet to the side of the largest shopping strip of Vienna.

It is always amazingly calm inside. The dark hues of the aged walls, wooden pews and religious art quell my inner demons. There are also half a dozen old-fashioned chandelier-style lights dangling from the ceiling, remaining 10 feet above the heads of visitors by means of measley, emaciated cords. They are probably as old as the pews.

Maybe not the best photo, but certainly accurate.

Tuesday evening Rita, Helga and I went for beverages at a bar lounge near Stephansdom before heading to a small movie theater down a side street. We saw "What Just Happened" (or "Into Hollywood," as it is titled in Vienna.) It was an amusing bit of satire, and Robert de Niro impressed me quite a bit. Kristen Stewart, way to make an appearance. I appreciated your effort to deviate from the "Twilight" path.

Afterwards, I walked to the U-Bahn alone. But my guardian watched over me as I took to the streets:

Stephansdom and street cafes by night.

So at ease, always lovely.

Yesterday was the most wonderful of Wednesdays. The AMA kids invaded Vienna. Erika Firestone and Hayley Amerman are part of that troupe. Yes, I was reunited with my sisters in EUROPE. It was marvelous. Erika phoned me via Hayley's cell and I went to meet them behind the Oper. We had lunch in Cafe Rosenburg (I believe...) which offered a pay-as-you-go buffet. So I loaded my plated with a scoop of every different kind of salad (e.g. bean salad, asparagus with cheese, etc.) I got to know some of their new friends and we went for Eis- a mandatory staple for any European visit- near Stephansdom. Nutella was rather delicious...I don't think it tops Hazelnut. After a lovely hour and a half with Pennsylvanian teens, we parted ways and I made my way back to Westend, got rained on...puring rain...and slept for two hours. It was such a nasty day. But I woke up, drank an excessive amount of Coke Zero (CAFFINATION!) and put on my sneakers...
I thought I was in awe of Vienna- I thought I'd had my fill.

I realized I had overlooked Schloß Schönbrunn. So I took an evening run to find it.

And I discovered a whole new nuance of love.

Wien, how I underestimated you.

My usual route on Mariahilfer takes me to inner city Vienna (Oper, Stephansdom, Donaukanal, etc.) I turned my back on that part of town and set off in the wet evening stick, determined to find this marvel. I took Mariahilfer southwest First, I literally ran into the Auer-Welsbach Park- lush, large and possessing a marvelous rope and obstacle course that could serve as a playground for adolescents. Then I began to notice a different atmosphere to my left- the sort of calm that can only be enforced by the natural instinct to venerate an aged, revered landmark.

And there it sat. Schloß Schönbrunn in as much humility as a palace can possess. The stormy clouds hung low overhead and shifted quickly from right to left; the canal to my left raged muddy rain water toward the center of the city; but the beautiful structure before me just sat, meditating, staring upon the grace of this part of Wien.

I immediately set forth, firm in my step, suddenly revived from the three day drench. I had to pause to take in the view from the bridge over the water. Down the stretch on my right I saw a fairytale-esque tower standing tall over what I assumed to be a church...of course it had to be a church. Perhaps this was nothing extraordinary to behold, but in the enchanting mist of the evening, with the regal hills decorating the background, I felt as thought I had been taken back to a less severe, more simplistic time...where perhaps the sylvan creatures would gather at your feet and the forests would be rich with life and you may or may not be dressed like Little Red or Sleeping Beauty (pick a cliche.) How could this be hiding beyond the allure of the shopping district? I took in the feel of the cold concrete rail, moss and all upon my lazy fingertips. The sides of the waterway were alive with more moss and habitation. I think most of all I was in awe of this city's ability to breathe...seeing as my only comparisons have been NYC, Philadelphia, Pittsburg. America, America, I miss you so, but your lack of age and experience makes you inferior in some ways.

Enough with the exclamations of the profound and monumental natures...needless to say a view from the gates was all that I took because they gates were closed. And dusk was setting in rapidly. So I returned to the hostel and sat around with John, 3 German 18-year-olds, a Swede and another Austrian. They all smoked, and they smoked a lot, so I had to shower at 1 in the morning so as not to gag myself with the smell.

I woke up early today (I average 5 hours of sleep every night...I stay up and socialize/write) and got breakfast before the hoard of 13-year-old school boys and girls invaded the room. Walked to class in the clear morning air- no hint of rain. AMEN. Class today was nothing special. I would say the Thursday itch for the weekend set in. After class, though, I went with Rita to Humanic, a well-known shoe store. She needed to purchase comfortable "around-town" kicks. And it was a great success. We bought sandwiches at Anker and sat in the grass in front of Museum Quartier for an hour, walked to my hostel so that I could drop off my German books and change, and then returned to the Deutsch Akademie for the cultural program.

This week we took an extended walk around town to get a glimpse of the Jugendstil...a somewhat complex pespective and style of architecture, particularly known in relation to the name Otto Wagner. We saw an Apotheke (pharmacy), bank, and the station at Karlsplatz. Really, so much was seen and said that I cannot find the motivation to write all about it in this already-too-lengthy post. But it was a lovely, warm evening spent sight-seeing in Vienna with my lovely ladies Rita and Helga, Fardin and another man from Iran who tried to get me to go to a Disko with him...haha. We went for drinks at Mocca Lounge next to Naschmarkt where we spend a good hour discussing diversity amongst cultures and traditions, specifically the acceptable relationships between young men and women, and the ridiculous drinking age in America. I am so proud...I spoke almost entirely in German!

For my daddy, the Feuer Man!

"Alyson Hannigan," Rita, Helga, Iranian man before the Anker Urh, a massive clock built by Franz von matsch in 1911. Every hour represents a famous or revered individual who played a crucial role in the making of the history of Vienna. We all look ridiculous and unprepared, but the clock looks better with humans standing beneath it.

Another branch heading toward the Donau, this time flowing through Stadtpark.

This park is gorgeous. And I adore the architecure displayed in these photographs. This was another stop on the Jugendstil tour. (Josef Hackhofer und Friedrich Ohnmann, 1903-1906)

After I polished off my Melange, the ladies went back to Humanic so Helga could buy her coveted shoes in her size. We then sat outside at Bar Italia Lounge on Mariahilfer to do our homework together and enjoy some more drinks. We were there for over two hours. I truly appreciate these women. They have such diverse experiences that I am constantly learning when around them. Rita told us all about the unique customs of the Japanese culture while Helga explained her brother's superior handiwork skills.

It was a tiring day, considering we covered half of Vienna in 2 hours' time.

I needed to polish off this entry (I began it 2 days ago...)

So here you have it. Enjoy. And I appologize for any spelling/grammatical errors. I just type and don't take a second look at what I've written.

This week's playlist (as of Mittwoch, a.k.a. "Wednesday"- my iPod is my most faithful companion on my morning excursions to class, and throughout any other exploration adventure I take by myself):

BILLY JOEL & MUSE (The hostel played one of their CDs overhead on Saturday. I was in heaven.) And perhaps "Fidelity" by Regina Spektor. In case my taste in music is of interest. Vienna looks and feels even more whimsical (yes, whimsical) and inspiring when there is music playing somewhere in the background.