Flour galore!

Making bread is an invested task. I began at 1pm and now it is 5pm and I've just put the loaves in the oven. I must say, the smell of baking bread is completely worth the time.

Boredom and Anticipation

Ok. Here's the deal. I thought that I would create this online investment more for the posterity of my mind, than to bore you, or your loved ones, with endless chit-chat of what is to come for me. I want to document my ups, downs, ins, and outs of the time I spend in Austria and hopefully get something out of it later. And for you, a fascinating read will be a reward.

Well the past couple of months have crept slowly by. Time is a sloth, and my life it the tree is crawls across. After months of running through the maze that is international bureacracy, I can see my piece of cheese. What is it? It the chance of spending close to 10 months in another land, Austria. (by the by it's Austria, not Germany. Don't call it Germany) Speaking a foreign language. Trying to study, survive, and make friends. What a walk in the park, right? It's like Picasso painting Guernica after learning to sketch still lifes. It's like Beethoven composing his 9th symphony after realizing, "Hey, I think I like this whole music thing." It's like the Beatles writing Sgt. Pepper after playing a few short shows in the Ratkeller. What am I thinking, you might ask. Why would you give up any, and everything just to go and live far away, in a land of strudel and beer? Well, the answer is....because I want to. Superficially enough, it all started out with me wanting to be in Austria during winter. To walk down the tight narrow roads at Christmas time, looking into the warm, frost covered windows at freshly baked goods, or hand-made ornaments, or just to see who or what is in there. I want to experience all parts of being in the old world, year round.

I've always had an interest in foreign lands. Last year, when I went with people to the outer banks, I spent an entire night questioning two Polish people all about everything. I couldn't stop. My mind couldn't stop, and since the rest of my body was inebriated, nothing was holding it back. The same thing happened when I traveled to Vienna this past spring break. I questioned our driver, whose name I have long forgotten, about anything and everything of his life, as we drove down the twisting roads from our alcoholic brothel up on high. A little intrusive, I know, but I just couldn't stop. I wanted to know as much about his as possible. I think that because people speak a different language than us, we tend to forget that they are human. Well, atleast I think so. Watching the olympics, I've come to realize that all these people are they same. They have fear, happiness, fright, and every other emotion as they take up their pole for vaulting, put on their shoes for running, or put the tight plastic cap to begin swimming. They think and act like you and I, just in a different language. Wierd.

Well. I'm going to watch the olympics.