Monstrous Catch-Up #2

I hurt myself again :(
April 16, 2011
Original post can be found here.

I’m in Sighisoara, Romania (will be leaving in about forty minutes for Cluj-Napoca), which is Vlad the Impaler’s birthplace. I went into the restaurant they’ve set up in the house he was born in to see if it would be worthwhile, but decided it was too pricey. I made my way down two flights of stairs and only had about four steps left before I brained myself on the top of the door frame, then fell down those last four steps (smacking my lower back in the process. I’m going to be black and blue there).

I just sat there for a while with my hands on my head and my eyes squeezed shut, kind of praying that no one would ask if I was all right but at the same time praying someone would. Then after ten or fifteen seconds I opened my eyes and spotted an old, old woman with a brown headkerchief staring at me with pretty open sympathy.

I fled. Didn’t know what else to do.

Spent the whole walk to find food rubbing my back and wondering if I’d hit myself hard enough for another concussion. There’s no blood, and I’m not dizzy, so probably not.

But goddamn, it hurt. I feel like Vlad would have approved of the parting gesture his stupid house handed me.

Planning, planning.

Well, that cooking spree didn't last long. I tried. Still sort of trying. Mostly I can't be bothered to spend so much time preparing food. I've got stuff that has to be done and stuff I'd like to waste time on. :)

I've been trying like mad to plan out my spring break plans. (It's not technically "spring break"--apparently that's another Americanism. It's just the three weeks between the end of lectures and the beginning of exams. So: spring break.) Originally I was thinking a weekend in London (British museum and an international friendly between Brazil and Scotland!), followed by a flight to Athens and a week island hopping in Greece, then a few days in Istanbul, then a few more days--maybe as many as five or six--in Romania (Transylvania--and yes, I fully intend on visiting the castle Vlad the Impaler may or may not have ever visited, and if he did it was only for a night or two), then an incredibly cheap flight to Paris and a train to Normandy/Mont Saint Michel, then home to Edinburgh. Three, almost four weeks.

I've been doing research, though, and the more I read about Istanbul the more hesitant I am to go all by my lonesome. The travel guides make it sound like it would be the equivalent to going to Tijuana by myself (which I would never do). It's unfortunate, because I desperately want to go. I'd also like to see some of the rest of Turkey, though, so if I do cut Istanbul out of this trip, that's all it would be--cutting it out of this trip. There's nothing to stop me from going back in the future.

What to do with my three or four extra days, though? I could maybe spend some more time in France. My French would improve, and that always makes me happy when I pick up more of a foreign language. (French is the only one I can construct broken sentences in. The rest are just phrases I've memorized from books, or single words I've picked up from friends and flatmates.) Or I could go visit Stonehenge/Nottingham/York/the Scottish highlands. It's something I definitely ought to do, but it feels like cheating myself out of an adventure.

It's not that it wouldn't be fun to see the rest of the UK. It's more just that I already speak English.

In the meantime, it's a struggle to keep up with schoolwork. I think I'm just being lazy. It's not that I don't care about the material, because for pretty much the first time this year, I do care about the stuff we're learning about. (Philip II, Alexander III (the Great), and the Ptolemaic dynasty!! Hellenistic Egypt! And murders and emperors and conniving sons and mothers in imperial Rome, and the books in Scottish lit are fantastic. Sunset Song, by Lewis Grassic Gibbon. Go read it.)

I'm definitely just being lazy. I don't want to read a textbook. I want to read a historical fiction account of how Ptolemy I Soter held onto his throne. Stories are easier to digest and memorize than sterile facts.

Next Thursday, though, I'll be abandoning all responsibilities for three days. I'm flying to Dublin (by myself) and staying in a fantastic hotel with a real bed and an indoor pool (by myself) for St. Patrick's Day. :)

Oh, and there will be sightseeing as well. And a parade and a festival. But there will also be an accessible swimming pool. And a real hotel room. (Everything cheaper was already booked, but I think I'll survive the weekend luxury. Somehow.)

I wish I had a fun book to read. Something adorably fantastic and girly would be nice. I'm in one of those moods for sugar in my fiction. No more of this gritty unhappiness nonsense in Lanark, which needs to be read by Tuesday morning for Scottish Lit.

Hm. Scatterbrained? Yes, definitely. There's a lot going on, and even more to avoid working on, at the moment.