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Sun, Aug 10, 2008
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Sorry for the lack of updates, but you know, things to do, places to see...
So. I left Budapest. And I went, via a stop or two, to a little place called Sighisoara. (As far as I can tell, the correct pronunciation is along the lines of "See-sure-ah") Where I stayed for two nights, before leaving and heading slowly but surely for more urban areas.
Why did I stop there?
Well... In 1431, a prince was born to the Wallachian royal family in a house in Sighisoara. His name was Vlad. He would, in times to come, be known as "Vlad Tepes", or "Vlad the Impaler", because of a particularly cruel punishment he was fond of using. He reigned as king on three occasions before dying in 1476.
So far, so dull, you might think.
So if I then mention that his father's name was "Vlad Dracul", does that ring any bells?
If I mention that the son of Dracul would be known as "Dracula" it should certainly chime a few notes.
Yes, Sighisoara was the (alleged) birthplace of the real-life Dracula, the Transylvanian prince whose name was immortalised by Bram Stoker in a truly superb book which I first read in my early teens. I re-read it on my way here and became aware of just how much I had missed out reading it in my younger years. So even if you've read it before, I can heartily recommend reading it again.
Dracula's birthplace is now a restaurant named "Casa Dracula" where I had a pretty good pork escalope. There's a lot of tacky vampire tourist stuff. I bought a few bits, I admit.
Other than that, it's actually a really interesting place. The clock tower is particularly impressive. The roof, top to bottom, is, unusually, taller than the tower itself by some ten feet. It has a large golden sphere at the top which is actually a time capsule containing several literary works. There's a small stall selling particularly nice hot chewy sugary pastry things. The hostel I stayed at, Nathan's Villa, is just down the road from the train station and is a very good hostel. Especially considering it was barely 10 euros a night and did laundry for free.
All in all, it was well worth a visit. Even if you're not much of a vampire buff :o)
But I left there in the early afternoon on a train that was only about ten minutes late, which I was pretty impressed by. I bought some postcards to send people, but because its a Sunday I haven't been able to buy any stamps for them yet.
Ho-hum...
Creative Hedgehog
La parte A se refiere solamente a las dos novelas estudiadas. La parte A debe ser preparada después de leer la primera mitad de la novela y contestar las siguientes preguntas: ¿te está gustando la novela/película o no, y por qué? No me gusta la novela. Las personajes que puedes gustar son superficiales, o hacen [...]
06/08/10 - SPN3730 diario: Pascual Duarte parte A
Hari's corner
Why being bi-lingual has its advantages
10/08/10 - Being bi-lingual has its advantages
Place of Stuff
Isn't this exciting? We're out of the tedium of Genesis (world created, man falls, many people live and die. Oh, and attempted forced buggery and a spot of incest). We're into Exodus now; the Bible has got going, that tricky first chapter is out of the way and the real action can start! When the [...]
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Advice From a Single Girl
I was giddy and hopeful when I first met Cary and spent a brief amount of time with him.
The week after that I was happily high on the idea of what could be, the possibility of getting to know someone interesting and intriguing, the wide open potential of what could be.
And I wanted to tell my friends all about him and what had, and hadn't happened, but I also wanted to keep it to myself, sealed safely in the happy bubble that was floating inside me. So I talked to some close friends about him, told them he lived in Vancouver and they, meaning well, told me quite firmly that they would not allow me to go through another long distance relationship. That I shouldn't even consider it.
My bubble had been burst.
I was completely deflated. Hurt. Let down.
I talked to C-Dawg, a sad tinge to the story now that I'd been told it could. . . should never work out.
"Vancouver?" she said, her voice somewhere between amused and incredulous. "That's not long distance! Get serious. Go for it."
And I let my bubble maybe start to re-inflate. Cautiously. Maybe just a little.
Then I talked to my friend about Cary. She said good things.
Maybe there was reason to be hopefully optimistic. Maybe it was ok to be a little girly and dreamy over what-ifs.
I went for a walk with S. We had life to catch up on.
Life including Cary and the story that still makes me smile.
She encouraged me to get his email, which I did, and then she went home and tried to find out what she could about him.
See, I'm not on Facebook. (No, really.) But S is, and in the small world way that Facebook seems to work, she found that Cary and she had a mutual friend and so she looked him up for me. (The modern background check.)
You can sometimes tell a lot about a person by what they put on their Facebook, she cautioned me. Sometimes.
How old is he?
Me: I don't know.
Is he a smoker?
Me: Um, I don't know? (God, I hope not)
Could he maybe be a little bit immature?
Me: I don't know. I suppose.
Well, he seems like a good guy. Cute. Interesting. I'd say he was my type, you know. (We laugh, we already know we share similar excellent taste in men.)
"I say go for it." She says, "just be aware that he's human. Not perfect."
I don't want to hear it.
Don't want to know the reality of him.
Find myself running away from all the what might have been's towards it'll never work what what I thinking's.
It's all or nothing. Perfect or awful. It'll work or it'll be a disaster.
And I realize that my bubble, the one that's been growing and floating inside me will burst on its own, without anyone's help if I get too far into imagining just how great Cary is, how great we'd be together, how perfectly perfect it all will be.
I'm Icarus. My friends don't want me flying too close to the sun.
But I like the feeling.
I like the soaring giddiness of how utterly fantastic this thing I've found will be.
Every single time I meet someone I like that feeling.
And I ride it higher and higher until I'm flapping my bare arms, feathers fallen into the sea and the crash is coming, the relationship splintering and I'm left staring at the brokenness wondering how on earth I could have been so wrong again.
The extremes are familiar. Addictive perhaps.
But I'm trying to learn to ride in the middle.
Safer. A shorter distance to fall.
A smaller bubble to burst.
Expectations that can be met and exceeded.
A safe, yet joyful and giddy flight. Wings intact.
03/09/10 - Icarus
Nation
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The Offspring - She's Got Issues
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Submersible houseboat