Log in

No account? Create an account
Reveries of a Solitary Walker [entries|friends|calendar]
sara the amazing

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[23 Oct 2011|03:05am]
Holy shit its been almost 5 months since I last posted.  I guess thats probably because nothing really significant has happened.  Small things, of course.  I went back to Idyllwild, had an internship in the museum over summer, came back to Juniata against all fo my better judgement...but everything is the same.

List time:

1. Still a whore.  Recently was offered a porn/prostitution gig from one of my old fbs, so you know...thats something.
2. Still lonely.  I can promise you at least one person in the world is masturbating to me right now, but no single person is willing to take me out into the daylight and have a real conversation with me.
3. Friends are still up in the air.  Alyson still acts superior to me and unless shes already around me and were having a great time, never wants to see me.
4.  I still hate Juniata.  Every fucking day is another struggle not to leave.
5.  Still into art/museums/theater/philosophy etc.  My major is now Museum Studies and Visual Storytelling with two minors in Theater and Philosophy.
6.  Bethany is still  dickhole but I have to do my capstone with her anyway.

1.  I moved into an apt with two non-students off campus
2.  I realized my future is hopeless, and my best option (i.e. employed and making real money) would to take up that prostitution gig.
3.  I have no idea where Im going to live after this, but may actually move in with the Old German...which could be anywhere in the world, honestly.
4.  I have a car!  Yayyyyy.

So thats my life, aka pretty much nothing had changed.  I guess I am a little more apathetic and hopeless though, so you know, theres that.
2 comments|post comment

[01 Jun 2011|04:22am]
One major problem about polygamy that I hadnt previously considered: they can all decide to break up with you in the same week.
post comment

[28 Apr 2011|01:35am]
I hate Juniata so fucking much.  Its taking all of my strength not to drop out.
post comment

[17 Feb 2011|10:36pm]
Its really difficult to be a naturally violent person in a contained world.
post comment

[12 Feb 2011|01:53am]
Oh god I feel so awful. The Old German helped, but I guess that what hes there for.
post comment

[04 Feb 2011|02:22am]
Ohohoh, also, embalmer updates: he now speaks in tongues, talks to Jesus, and is starting his own church.  Hes still really nice and cool though.  Dodged a bullet?
2 comments|post comment

[04 Feb 2011|02:15am]
Owowowowow, I think my brain just started punching itself in the head for staying up two extra unnecessary hours when Ive been sleep deprived since I got here.  Dumb.
post comment

[10 Nov 2010|07:22pm]
2 comments|post comment

[10 Nov 2010|01:26am]

God I love it here.  I love it so much.

I don’t know what happened today that made me realize how much I love it, but I am so incredibly happy.  I was thinking about the stories I’ve made, the people I’ve met, the classes I’m taking.  I’m just in love with everyone here. 

I started thinking at some point of every persons experience.  Each person has this epic written around them, and the infinite creation of stories is almost overwhelming.  I catch myself tearing up just thinking about it.  Every person has this intense joy and sadness.  How many epiphanies has each person had?  Im constantly falling head over heels in love with humanity.  The joy we bring out, but even more the pain that we endure.  I hate thinking about all of the stories Ill never hear and all of the incredible people I will never meet, but the idea of it is so humbling.  I wish I could remember that Kobo Abe quote…something about feeling small next to the diet coke factory, but feeling large in sight of a glove covered with dew.  Its something like the feeling of that.  Its feeling small, but important.  Altogether insignificant but incredibly necessary. 

I think its mainly a few people who brought this out in me.  One is an incredible boy I met a few weeks ago.  He is…indescribable.  Something you’d read in a Dickens novel.  Hes Princess Cassimassima.  Almost unreal and too big for the world.  Seeing him makes you feel like the world is perfectly as it should be, and any trifle is insignificant.  He moves constantly and is exactly the definition of bohemian.  Everything he says is so slick and cool, but hes not unapproachable.  Being with him for a night makes you feel singled out in the best way.  Not better than anyone, but…whole.  I met him about a month ago I was working at Brno 16.  He was the couchsurfing host of my friend when she first got to Brno.  I went pubcrawling with him and a French couple, and it was one of the best drinking nights.  It felt like a whirlwind, by the end of the night…like a dream (of course, this was partly because I had been drinking).  We were laughing, taking pictures, running around.  The other girl we were with tried to steal a stool and was stopped by a bouncer as an almost-naked stripper walked past.  The boys peed onto a castle.  We blew bubbles in a medieval bar with an LED screen.   We went to a geriatric pub where an old man played accordion over the music in the background.  I left at 3am, barely knowing where  I was in the middle of the city.  It was incredible.  Viktor (the boy) has people over at his house every day.  Usually theyre couchsurfers, sometimes just friends.  His major is Philosophy of Art, but when I asked him yesterday what classes he has he said he was learning languages, but on his own from books.  He didnt believe in classes.  His worst fear is to have a job, so he makes a living by buying and selling things…anything at all.  Drugs, cars, furniture.  Right now hes mostly selling paintings and cameras.  He hold business meetings in the mornings which he usually misses, because hes still hungover from the night before.  If he manipulates you, its not without your consent, and you cant help but love him for it.  Hes a mess.  He eats anything in front of him, will drink anything but prefers beer, his clothes are always wrinkled, and he never brushes his hair.  If theres anyone that has the light of the world in them, its him.  His smile can make your heart drop.  I asked him to sleep with me, and he told me he couldn’t because he was in love, then talked to me the next day about couchsurfing  with the airiness Ive never seen in anyone, and I loved him even more for it.  The fact that hes so young is almost unbelievable, so he usually lies and says hes older.  Hes out of a fairy tale.  How could someone ever measure up to someone like that?

Then my professors…its so hard to characterize.  They all seem so fictional, and I keep being afraid that I’ll wake up.  My Czech language professor is so sweet and tries so hard.  She dresses like what you would expect a French teacher to wear, with a scarf tied tightly around her neck and neatly buttoned sweaters.  Shes modest and laughs to herself.  Her little confusions are charming, and she has an impulse to be constantly reassuring.  Her whole personality is endearing.  My Children’s Lit prof is entirely the opposite.  Shes awkward, impatient, and not dominant enough to take control of the adult students who are all too pregnant and hormonal to care much for her.  She loves me because Im from America, which she is obsessed with.  My Ethics professor is young and sweet.  Strong, tall, incredibly intelligent, and very much a philosophy student.  The back of his neck is unshaved, and for some reason that is the most out-standing physical thing about him.  He speaks English almost better than me, but his accent is wonderful.  He is finishing his Doctorate with two daughters back home.  He is either divorced or widowed, and it shows very clearly.  He talks to me about philosophy, my studies, and Los Angeles.  I have an enormous crush on him.  My Czech Drama professor, too, has something incredibly attractive about him, but hes the opposite of my Ethics prof.  Hes short, round, slightly balding, and has the glasses and the smile that make him unmistakably in the field of theater.  We never have class, because he always forgets that we’re supposed to have one and never plans for it.  His voice is like a whisper, but stronger.  Just…gentle I guess.  He uses too much tongue in his speech, but somehow its incredibly attractive in that you want to listen to him speak for hours.  My Czech film prof is rumored to be legendary, but he doesn’t speak English well so he rarely does much for the class except for a brief introduction to the film.  My Anarchy Lit prof is fighting to be my favorite.  The class is useless if I want to learn something concrete, but the professor is way too ambitious, meaning we have to read a absurd amount of literature in almost no time.  Oliver Twist in two weeks along with the Rape of Lucrece and five other long poems is normal.  Yesterday I read 350 pages to try to finish our assigned reading, but was unfortunately unsuccessful.  Its hard, but I love being forced to read.  The class itself is useless.  We talk amongst ourselves while he goes for a smoke break, then when he comes back in we tell him what we were talking about.  Each small group takes their turn, and he replies with a 20 minute rant which usually ends in his hatred for America or Margaret Thatcher being a Nazi.  Today his furthest point was a rant about Mel Gibson and his films—specifically the American need for gore.  He’s a British man who hates America, and has finally started pointing directly at me (in a class of 20something Czech masters students) when he talks about America’s ills.  As a person, I think he likes me because I have original ideas and can hold my own in an academic conversation, but as a concept he despises me.  Any American is ignorant.  As he said “America claims to be a civilized country, but with a state like Texas I don’t understand how anyone can believe that’s true.”  Hes a genius and an asshole, and I cant help but love him too.

The newest influence is a boy named Tom.  I met him on Halloween (he was a Scotsman--dressed like himelf, but with an accent), we flirted over Facebook for a few days, then he saw me off the night I left from London.  He and his friend took me out to a few pubs, and he kissed me whenever his friend looked away.  He took me to my hostel to pick up my things, then took me to the bus stop and kissed me in the rain until he had to leave an hour later.  I didn’t realize how cold and wet my things and I were until I got out of the rain.  Tom is a heavy metal bassist son of an English teacher who is a chemist during the day and a poet between times.  He thinks museums are for elitist twats, but agrees that they are good in the long run.  He tells the most fucked up jokes Ive ever heard.  We talk about music all the time, and told each other our favorite poets.  We related slam poets and I introduced him to Shel Silverstein.  He likes me, but I like him more.  I think we both know things would happen if I ever saw him again, but I wont.  He told me bluntly that he took a girl out last night, and it ended well.  I told him bluntly that I was jealous I wasn’t her.   Also, he looks like the spawn on Abraham Lincoln and a leprechaun.

Then miscellaneous people.  A homeless man in England who was maybe the nicest person I met who asked if I had change.  He made a huge influence on me, and I wish I had given him some, but I barely had any myself and was, at the time, looking for a place to sleep on the street.  Then the man who worked the night shift at a booked hotel, who called all around London to make sure I had a place to stay for the night.  He spelled my name right without asking how, and called me his friend when he booked the hostel for me.  Another guy, the friend of the man who physically wrestled me to get me to stay in the bar on Halloween in order to get me to sleep with his friend, was really sweet.  He was modest and embarrassed for his drunk friend.  He was sincerely apologetic.  I would have talked to him if I didn’t have to fight off his friend.  Peter, my newly unemployed librarian, who fought off this guy for me, had me for the night but was too in love with his best friend to stay.  A performance artist who lived in England but was going back to her home in Spain for a few months talked to me about art, education, and museums at the bus stop after Tom had left.  I was too happy to keep to myself.  She seemed a little elite, but was wonderful when we got into a real conversation (the first hardcore art convo Ive had for months).  I wish I got her name.  The Italian man I couchsurfed with who has been to every country in Europe and told me where the best places were to surf. Then a Roma woman who I pushed out of the way while she was reaching into my friend’s bag.  They all kinda stuck with me.

I think what Ive fallen in love with so much here is the passion in which people throw themselves.  Theres a man who hands out papers from a bookstore that I pass every day, and I would recognize him anywhere.  Maybe its not the passion, but that each person is so individual.  Maybe Im just realizing it.  Its like…finally theres an original character.  Ive seen so many Juliettes…so many stereotypes and repetition.  In reality though—that’s where the best story is.  Imagination couldn’t possibly create this.  No artist is omniscient enough to be able to conjure up something like this.  Theres so much depth to it.

Im exhausted.  Every day is tiring, and I have so much to plan.  Next weekend is Prague, then Vienna during the week, Berlin over the weekend…after that, who knows.  It looks like Ill spend Christmas in Prague, Florence or Venice before that, and Dublin or Amsterdam for New Years.  I have to figure out my internship for summer, but at least I have a job.  Tomorrow I have Czech Language, which is good but torturous.  I wish I could learn better, faster though…without having to suffer through it.  Im thinking of maybe moving here in five or six years for a while.

post comment

[02 Nov 2010|07:50pm]
I got hit on soooooooo hard in Romford (near London) on Halloween.  It was probably because my boobs were out, but it was awesome.
post comment

[27 Oct 2010|11:39am]
Ive started being radically honest.  Its really difficult, but really good I think.  Ill tell more when Im not lazy, which probably not be fr a while, if ever.
post comment

[17 Oct 2010|07:08pm]
Ahhh first hangover and its a doozy. Make it stoppppp.
2 comments|post comment

[07 Oct 2010|02:43am]
Czech food is just drunk food. Ive discovered.
post comment

[04 Oct 2010|03:00pm]

This is my youtube. Here will be vlogs. Watch and enjoy.
post comment

[03 Oct 2010|09:59pm]
Ahhhhh, drunk Russian man just tried to carry me around then dropped me. Now I have a huge lump on the back of my head. Ahhh.
2 comments|post comment

[20 Sep 2010|12:55am]
Im so tired. I wish Karel (Polish guy) would just want me back. Im so tired of being unwanted, or being the other girl. It happens to be way too often, and Im sick of it. I hate guys who lie, and I hate guys who wait. I hate guys who want me less than a few other girls. It would be nice to be at the top of someones list for once.
post comment

[18 Sep 2010|01:10pm]
It has been so insane here. Basically we all party every day. Someone told me in the US that the people here get blackout drunk every night. Its completely true. I took one night off partying because Im sick, but last night made up for it. The fucking Polish. I told them one night that I wanted to learn how to drink like the polish, and theyve been giving me vodka ever since then. Last night was five big Polish men and me just taking shot after shot. Ridiculous. We were partying in our dorm then people wanted to go out to the club. I was like...NO. NOOOOOOO. No more. Then I kissed someone...and he immediately called his girlfriend. I was like...oh wtf, not again. We were both really drunk and had been flirting for a few days. Hes awesome, cute, he teases me in just the right way, he has the accent, but of course hes not single. Ugh, I hate that. The other guy Im sorta looking at is this 6'6" Kazakhstanian guy who is suuuuuch a gentleman. Its weird to say, but hes awesome. Hes rarely out of his room, unfortunately. We were drinking and smoking together a few nights ago, and he recited this to me:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Shakespears 130th sonnet from memory. I was like, oh goddamnit you are playing me so well. I see him rarely enough that I keep thinking about him. Hes so sweet and smart. The first conversation we had way about US International politics. Too good.

Ok, my roommate and I are going to get crepes. Yay! More updates later...
1 comment|post comment

[12 Sep 2010|10:38am]
Sorry I haven’t updated this in forever. I was trying to put down what I was experiencing in words, but it just didn’t work. My whole summer in Idyllwild was incredible and I made really amazing friends who I will love forever. I ca’t even express how cool these people are. I might have to talk about each of them separately some entry. I had mostly great campers, a few bad ones. I had about eight that were the coolest kids. The camp rehired me for next year as a counselor, but the school museum wants me as well. Worst case: I wont be able to work as a counselor, but I will have an unpaid internship near my friends who will be counselors AND I‘ll have a cabin. Best case: Ill be able to do both jobs and get paid for both as well. Luckily, I think I actually might be able to do that. Both of the people I would work for seem very cool with the idea.

On the guy front: its bee an emotionally odd summer. Nothing huge to discuss. I did go on a date with this guy Chris who I knew before. There was some emotional complexity in that too. He’s really nice and really attractive, but he’s kind of boring. The most exciting thing he’s done is come to California for the summer. He has no good stories. The date went ok, but definitely not great. He had broken up with his gf recently (she was nuts and almost shot him), so the timing wasn’t spectacular. We talked after he left to go back to Michigan, and he said he really wanted to try it again if we got the opportunity. He was just really confused about a lot of stuff at the time. I said I was too. If I end up road tripping across the country, I’m supposed to visit him.

Ok, now for the cool part. I’m in the Czech Republic! Yay!!! I’ll try to organize my thoughts a little:

Traveling over: Horrible. Sooo so bad. I’m already dreading going back to the US. Let’s just start this off by saying that I speak no Czech whatsoever. None. I cant say Yes, No, Good, Okay, Please, Thank you, Hello…nothing at all. On the flight over I kind of thought to myself….Wow I am soooooo fucked. A Czech dictionary would be good to have, but of course Borders doesn’t have one. I did buy an audio CD the night before for $10. The booklet is like a tiny dictionary of basic phrases. In a day I learned Ano, Ne, Dobry, Dobre, Prosim, Dekuji, and Nazdar/Ahoj, which is all of those things I couldn’t say respectively. I can also count to ten! Jeden, dva, tri, ctyri, pet, sest, sedm, osm, devet, deset. Some of it hasn’t quite stuck yet, but most of it is ok. So far I’ve only said Dobre and Ano to a Czech person who was telling me my fridge doesn’t really work. The trick of Czech, I’ve learned, is just to pronounce everything wrong--according to English. Four is my least favorite number. Just guess how its supposed to sound. The booklet says “chtih-rzhih.” I’m like….that doesn’t help me at all. I think its kind of like tea tree, but more like chee-trih. ANYWAY, so I flew to Chicago, then Warsaw, then Prague, then took a bus to another part of Prague, then another bus to Brno, then a taxi to my dorm. I left home at 6am Sept 8th and got to my dorm at 9pm Sept 9th. With the time change that’s about noon on the 9th. TOO MUCH TRAVEL. The worst was getting the right bus after my flights. I don’t understand most English bus maps…this was in Czech. Basically I wandered back and forth from the public bus stop to inside the terminal and tried to figure it out. I learned how money works too. $1 is about 20 koruna, so a 100 koruna bill is like $5, which would pay for maybe $8-$10 worth of stuff. I learned this because I needed to buy a public bus ticket from a machine that was not in English and didn’t take bills, just 50 koruna coins, which I didn’t have. After asking ever vendor for change and being denied, I finally just asked about 20 people what to do to get to Brno. I finally got the ticket after maybe one or two hours of wandering. The sweetest old woman made sure my ticket was right, and I got on the bus. I had to wait about an hour at the Prague bus stop, accidentally almost getting onto two wrong busses. I got on the right one and immediately fell asleep for hours. I felt bad because I really wanted to see what the Czech Republic looked like. Every once in a while I would wake up for a minute and see, then immediately fall back asleep. I also may have fallen asleep on the first next to me, who ended up being awesome and told me about Vinarska, my dorm, and told me where the taxis were. I woke up covered in drool, classy as ever. The CR actually looks a lot like PA. Lots of trees everywhere, lots of nature. I was surprised when I saw Prague, because its pretty tiny for being the largest city in the CR. Its old and gorgeous. The apartments are all run down and there’s graffiti everywhere. I remember waking up and seeing this huge open plain of deadish grass, and a huge rainbow ending directly where I was looking. When I woke up more later, I wasn’t really sure if it was a dream or not, but I don’t think it was. After I got to Vinarska in a taxi which didn’t speak English, I had to check in with the receptionist. She looked at me like I soooo did not belong there. I was thinking…fuck, fuck…what if I’m in the wrong place. Its way too late to wander around with two huge suitcases, a backpack, and a computer. She looked me up, and THANK JESUS I was in the right place. Unfortunately, for some reason the dorm thought I was coming in ten days, so there was someone still living in my room. He had a girl giggling in there, and I was sooo flustered and confused at that point. We went to the receptionist and she gave me a temporary room. The guy was really cool, and luckily he moved out the next day. I think he was either English or Indian. Either way it was so nice to speak English comfortably with someone. I think I had maybe said 100 words in the entire day of travel. I’ve never not spoken so much. Ugh, I’m exhausted just reliving the whole time.

First day: I woke up in the morning basically exhausted and terrified of leaving my room. I was so tired of being the stupid, confused American that I just didn’t want to do anything, PLUS I didn’t want to go out while I still had to wait to move. So I just watched Lost. Hours and hours of Lost. I finaly was brave enough to walk out onto the balcony, and it just happened that the guy living next to me was outside too. He started speaking in Czech and I was like “Im sorry…I don’t speak Czech at all.“ He told me he spoke English and we started talking. He was from Kyrgyzstan and had studied for a year in Oregon. He told me his roommate was from PA, and I was like…holy crap, what?? Whats his name?? Turns out its my friend Jared from Juniata who’s coming with Alyson and me. I told him about Jared, and he told me to come hang out with some friends later that night. We both went back inside. At around noon I got kicked out and moved into my actual room which is under the first floor, but actually the ground floor. Hard to explain. Its kind of small, but we have a kitchenette, a bathroom, a WC (so weird), a little coffee table, four chairs, and our two beds which are about four feet away from each other. Its small and looks like te 70s, but the view from our huge window is beautiful. After hours of starving and living off of water, a diet coke, and mints I decided to deal with my fears and try to find somewhere that sells food at around 4. The last time I ate was on the plane the day before at around noon. I walked around for a while and got to see some of the buildings…which I think are classrooms for my university. The best thing I saw since I’ve been here is a wall covered in graffiti with one part that says “This is art…believe me.” To kids were kicking up dirt next to it. Awesome. Brno is a perfect city for me. Its always cloudy and overcast. The buildings are run down and theres old sculpture everywhere. I got this weird, gross sandwich, Aloe juice, more water, and rye bread with cheese at the grocery store, and I was getting better at doing things without talking. I feel very European eating a giant half-loaf of bread and trying to make it last as long as possible.

First night: I ended up taking a nap before I went to Tim’s and accidentally woke up an hour late. When I got there there were a few people hanging out. Everyone spoke English, which is awesome, but everyone spoke a few different languages. There were three Spanish girls, one guy from Greece, another guy from Russia, a girl from the Ukraine, and Tim from Kyrgyzstan. We were talking about all different kinds of things and teaching each other how to say different things in different languages. Tim and the guy from Russia speak everything. Russia guy started singing in Ukranian while Tim was speaking Spanish. I was teaching the Spanish girls some English and French, and actually translating some of the Spanish for the others. I know a surprising amount of Spanish just by living in California, I found. The whole thing was really cool. Tim and I started talking about East coast and West coast rap, and he told me Tupac was his role model. I started talking the the Ukranian girl a lot and we shared a blanket outside. I asked her what it was like in Odessa, and she told me about what it was like living in Vinarska. Russian guy decided to make a toast. First, to being open to experiencing new cultures and “putting my culture into your heart.” The second toast was to love. What a good way to start a school year.
post comment

[19 Jul 2010|01:52am]
Every day feels like a week. I have the craziest emotional roller coasters here. I laughed so hard today I was crying and probably almost peed myself. Multiple times. This morning I just did not want to get out of bed (for reasons Ill explain later) and at night I had to deal with a situation forcefully and one of my campers ended up crying, which made me feel like shit. I wouldnt have done anything differently (its a complicated story about someone vandalizing her old roommates door) but it sucks having to be the bad guy. I got to sleep in really late this morning, but I also am staying up pretty late tonight talking to people and drinking...which involved James talking to Lucy, which I reeally hate watching, secretly. I am so close to crushing on James, but Im forcing myself not to. I know he doesnt really like her like that, but he also said he cant like anyone since he broke up with his high school gf. Its clear Lucy want him though. Drama aside, its hard to watch because hes just so goddamn pretty.

So about the not dealing with the day thing...The Old German told me he loved me last night. He texted me saying he was thinking about me, and I said I was thinking about him too, then he acted surprised and said he wanted to be my bf. I was like, ummmmm....Im sorry, but I just cant (but much longer and nicer and whatnot. I said I wasnt going to get reception since I was going back to campus, and he said "Love u." I was like, FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. I pretended not to get it until today when I decided what to say. I tried to think of what advice I would give to someone else, and of course it was, just be honest. So I was. I texted back "I honestly dont know what to say to that," and he said "Would love to have you here! Better?" I said, "Yes, much." And that was the end of it. The whole situation is insanely complex. For all intensive purposes I should like him. Hes sweet, interesting, older, well off, kind, intelligent, great cook, single. Why is it that I dont like him back? I know it has to do with age, which I feel terrible about...but honestly I think that part of it is that Im still not totally over Erik. I would love to be, but the more I think about it the more I think about how perfect he is for me. I know it will never work...but why cant I like The Old German like I like The Embalmer? Its rather shitty.

Thats it for now. More soon.
2 comments|post comment

[15 Jul 2010|12:19am]
I cannot possibly sum up summer up here. Suffice it to say (for now) that this is the best job ever. I get to hang out with really really good friends, gossip, sit by a pool, meet sweet artsy kids, play with yarn, sing karaoke, get drunk, and get paid for it. There is drama like you wouldnt believe and Ive broken down and started gossiping seriously for the first time in my life. Its amazing. I still get paid about nothing, but its so worth it.
post comment

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]