October 7

Today (and everyday, but especially today), I am excessively romantic; not in an erotic way, but in the way that I ramble aloud, quixotic verses I make up to myself, and whisper in rhythm to the time of my footsteps. Tim and Fay took us to the Russian market today, dubbed this name after it was (and is) continually flooded with European tourists. Heather and Liz bought practical things, clothes they needed to wear for teaching, a new watch to replace a broken one, pirated DVD’s they planned to watch this next week. Yet I, instead wandered the art sections, buying random Christmas presents for my family, a t-shirt for Ryan, a fantastic plaster mask (for Tony), a huge intricately painted ceramic tile (that I dread taking home thinking it might crack down the middle or weight too much) for Alane, not to mention adorable bags and brightly colored fabric, woven baskets with reed dyed in every color, jewelry for Mia and art and clothes for Mom.

Maybe it’s the rain (but it rains everyday?), the green and the gray, or the volatile skies that moves me into my dreamlike state. I am so stressed I could cry, midterm grades are due tomorrow. I ride my bike in the dark, pant-legs soaked with muddy water, my feet and legs ache, calves spotted with so many mosquito bites. Finished reading Liz Gilbert books I started months ago, scared and excited for what the rest of my life could hold. It's just beginning. I’m privileged, talented, capable, strong. I’m naïve and young, unbalanced, immature. I’m so happy to love and be alive. Maybe I will grow. Everyday, I grow.