*I should never leave on a trip annoyed/angry/whatever with someone ever again. I missed Elysse too much.
*Getting back and sleeping for a solid 48-hours a) does not help alleviate jet lag, and b) scares the crap out of my Grandmother.
*I still don't like hills. The walking thing didn't last long. I'm blaming the humidity, but I'm pretty sure that's just an excuse.
*I really could probably get away with taking the small green suitcase and the carry-on. Maybe. For week-long trips, definitely.
*I still hate sharing.
*I'm still a control freak, but I'm loosening up a little. I'll work on this to procrastinate on working on the walking.
*I loved Florence. So much. Just not the mosquitoes. No. Don't miss those one bit.
*Art is so much better in person. Judith. Had. Bloodstains. On. Her. Dress. My life is complete.
*I told Stephanie about the Jews being saved in Assisi. Her eyes lit up. At least I have one person to share my Holocaust information with. We're discussing wanting to teach a course on Holocaust art and literature if/when we're both teaching. I'm excited.
*I'm better at my job now, after having a break.
*Note to self: Overdrawing your checking account while in a different country is not fun. Remember this. Be unamused.
*I seem to have realized something. I don't need a home. I don't need someplace to go back to. Having a place to rest my head is nice, yes, but everywhere can be my home. I feel like some of the parts of me that were empty are less empty or full when I come back from an elsewhere.
*Can one have a religion based on art? I've had my most purely religious experiences in the presence of great art or architecture. ...I wonder how many people have confused St. Peter's as a religious experience related to the church? Hm.
*I have a love-hate relationship with my "culture bubble." Yes, I like being understood and understanding. Yes, I like dressing how I want. No, I don't like how Americans get viewed sometimes ...and I think part of that is that we tend to stick to our culture bubbles. We have customers at Teavana that are visiting from France (a lot more than you'd think), and they conduct business here in (sometimes broken) English. It would only seem polite that we do that same in another country with their native language. I'm guilty of it too. I like English. I like speaking it. I like that it's weird sometimes. I like it. I like French, Italian, Polish and German too - the pieces I know, at least. I get nervous around native speakers - it happened in reverse in Germany with Alex's friends. They were nervous about speaking English to me because I was a native speaker. That was a fun evening. I got used to little things in Italy - please, thank you, yes; that sort of thing. I also became the default person to ask for the check at dinner. I was amused. I was so used to things like that, that I kept speaking of it when I got home.
*I want to go again. I feel like the more I travel, the more I want to travel. And not just to new places. To the places I've been already been, because the more I'm away, the more I learn about being in an elsewhere, and I feel like I could appreciate things so much more after learning these things.
*I just realized, I never really talked about the flights. Well. I don't really remember much of them. I get into a sort of ...travel stupor, almost? The plane obviously didn't crash, so I guess there really wasn't much to say. O'Hare was ...O'Hare. We did get delayed about 2 hours on the way back. Not the most amusing thing in the world. I ended up doing a lot of watching other people's bags. Laziness, maybe, I prefer "economy of movement" - efficiency, and as little movement as possible.
*I have some ideas. Creative inspiration. Particularly, the bell tower from Assisi will be in the background of Icarus if/when he ever gets finished. There was a suggestion of welding myself in place of Judith with a head. I ...don't really feel the desire to cut anyone's head off. There is a strength in small actions, in carrying on, that doesn't always show when some people are cutting people's heads off. I don't really ever want to be a heroine. The maidservant, maybe, or the basket, but never the heroine. But I have a plan for Judith. I really hope Lynda does the metal pour again. Three words: Bronze. Abstract. Judith. Witness my excitement. I've started the Styrofoam already. Something with chain links, and webs too. Not sure where that one is going.
*Okay, I've been home for a month, when do we leave?
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