tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85431225696355247182024-03-13T09:47:56.262-04:00stuck in the 50sralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-25423537437434078972014-09-02T17:16:00.001-04:002014-09-02T17:16:17.285-04:00A New ChapterTo anyone who meets me or spends a little bit of time talking with me, it will become immediately clear that I am irrevocably, undeniably, and utterly in love with Europe. The culture, the people, the style, the food, just everything. I'm constantly dreaming about visiting the continent with a refreshed amour for the culture, an empty stomach for the delicious food I'll gladly intake, and a clear suitcase for the new clothes. Perhaps the latter two is a glamourous exaggeration, but my admiration for the continent runs deep. But the longer I visited anywhere in Europe, the more I longer to live there. It simply wasn't enough to visit for any considerable amount of time; I wanted to <i>be </i>there. I considered study abroad programs many times just so I could be there (but sadly, not many psychology programs offer programs that are compatible with what I plan to do with my major). I simply felt that I connected with the European culture more than American culture. (Again, my own thoughts and observations for my personal experience.) So when my family moved to Europe in November of 2013, my first emotion was jealousy. I so longed to live there, and they get to live out my dream. So not fair. But that didn't stop my constant dreaming of one day living in Europe.<br />
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This summer, just like my previous summers, I spent in Romania, exploring other parts of the continent, and indulging in my love for Europe. I knew that even before leaving for Romania, it would be difficult to leave the beloved country and return to the States for school. Every time I visit Romania, I leave a bigger piece of my heart there, making it more and more difficult. I just didn't fit back at school anymore. I felt like foreign body. During my stay in Romania, I realized that I couldn't go back. Not out of a desire to not face what lied ahead, but rather, I physically could not leave. I thoughts of multiple ways to prolong my trip, but the eventual result that I would eventually have to go. In all of this, I took into consideration that my family was very far away. 3000 km away plus a 7 hour time difference...it made things harder. Finally, I proposed, largely out of exasperation, that I could finish my last year of university online. That way, I could still finish school and be where I longed to be. Thus began a rapid and swift transition from becoming an international student studying on-campus to an online school. At first, it was very exciting--I get to live in Europe, I'll be exposed to more things than I was before, and I get to enjoy seeing my family every day. Then, a few weeks after I made my decision public, the emotions began to sink in. I wouldn't see my friends there anymore. What I dreamed my senior year to look like certainly won't look like that anymore. Will I walk for my graduation? Oh my goodness, I have to get all my stuff back. I am literally moving halfway across the globe. <i>OMG. </i><br />
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And so this is where I am currently. I am living in Europe. I am officially living my dream. However, my dream doesn't stop there. I plan on visiting every single place where I marked on my massive map of Europe that I hung up for the last 2 years. That being said, with the 3 months of summer and now, month of transition while getting adjusted and acclimated, it isn't as cracked up as I thought it would be. Moving was an extremely (although that is a <i>grand </i>understatement) and painfully stressful experience. And I had to do it by myself. I really wouldn't wish it upon anyone: to move halfway across the world in 10 days. Being the observant and judicial person that I am, I have noticed crucial pros and cons regarding this important and significant change in my life.<br />
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<b>PROS:</b><br />
1. I obviously live in Europe. I need no further elaboration. (Do you desire one (or five)? I get to expand my mind being surrounded with people that are different from me in comportment, thinking, and cultural norms. I do get to indulge my taste buds with the robust decisions of delicacies, pastries, and dishes. I constantly filter the street style wherever I go, so my wardrobe somehow expands. Meeting new people is strongly encouraged, especially in foreign countries, since it allows you to make new experiences and new connections. I get to live in Europe).<br />
2. I am closer to visiting the places I've only dreamed with my eyes closed. Paris, Barcelona, Dubrovnik, London, Rome, Cinque Terre, Florence, Zakynthos...they are closer than they ever were before. Plus, a few hundred euros is easier to obtain than multiple thousand of dollars. So visiting them is slowly become obtainable.<br />
3. My mind and worldview is constantly being challenged in a good and healthy way. When we get too comfortable in our culture, our worldview takes a back seat. When you encounter new people with a different way of seeing the world, it forces you to not only defend your mindset, but also compels you to analyze many things, prompting necessary change. It is such a liberating and diverse feeling. Talking to people who've had a particular upbringing usually comes in conflict with an upbringing from a different culture, thus prompting interesting conversation and perceptive observations.<br />
4. I've made many meaningful connections with people here. While I do tend to romanticize things, I like to think that the people I've met in Romania were truly a godsend. Such a fascinating collection of people, with different ways of thinking, with different ways of acting, with different mindset...and yet, mixed together, we all manage to complement each other.<br />
5. The relational education I received, especially in the last 2 years with being a leader on campus, has been absolutely vital. Only now do I realize the magnitude. What used to be second nature and came into contact every single day with multiple people is a rarity here. Having a different frame of mind allows me to see things differently, perhaps so differently, that it is culturally offensive. What was considered normal at school is a clash in culture. The differences in culture helps me develop, but it's also making me realize that what I received has a much larger scope. It has a bigger purpose that I originally thought, and I'm only beginning to see a few glimpses here and there.<br />
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<b>CONS:</b><br />
1. I miss speaking English so often. While I thoroughly enjoy expanding my Romanian and revelling in the fact that I can finally communicate in Romanian, I do miss English. It is my dominant language and sometimes, I don't know how to say something in Romanian, and I can only explain it in English. But then I have to translate and the translation isn't always the same. Sometimes, I do miss speaking in English and people understanding exactly what I'm saying, without the need of a translation. On the same note, sometimes, there are times when the English language is lacking and the only word that comes to mind is in Romanian. Constantly being between two languages is frustrating sometimes.<br />
2. English book stores. I so miss this from Canada and America. The feeling of walking in a Barnes and Noble and knowing that every single book in the store in English was glorious. If I had known those feelings were numbered, perhaps I would have cherished them more. Most book stores do carry some English books, but it's not the same. I can't just go and pick up a book and start reading it in Romanian and French. My level of Romanian and French is not at the level as it is in English. Especially if it starts using elevated vocabulary, I have to use twice the amount of energy to understand something whereas I could read something and I would immediately comprehend it.<br />
3. Things work differently here, so I have to get used to the fact that what I've known is not what it is anymore. Things worked a certain way in Canada and USA, but that's not how it necessarily works in Europe. There are no Wal-Marts, no Targets, no Costcos. You cannot go to one store and you'll find everything you need. You have to go to two or three different stores to find something. Some things are not easily accessible.<br />
4. The clash in culture. It really can so aggravating sometimes. The way some things are done are not what I'm used to and just because that's how it's done there doesn't necessarily mean that it should be that way. The way older think about the newer generation, how we should act, what Christianity should look like...a myriad of thinking that is different. Let me iterate that this is not necessarily a bad thing. It's just when the country as a whole thinks in a certain way that is different than what you have grown up thinking, it can difficult to ask if it's just a cultural issue or a familial thing.<br />
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What I'm really trying to say in all of this, with too many words to count, is that I'm blogging again. If you care about what I'm doing with my life and what I encounter, please feel free to follow me on my adventure. My chronology of my life, so to speak. Typically, a weekly post will be the norm (or bi-weekly if I'm feeling really ambitious). Life is certainly taking me on an interesting ride.<br />
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(the view of Istanbul, Turkey outside the plane window)ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-77956234978027123452014-02-03T13:19:00.001-05:002014-02-03T13:19:35.797-05:00Espana <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
During Christmas break, I had the extraordinary pleasure and privilege to go to Spain for a week. More specifically, visit the Madrid area for a week. Spain had always been on my list of places to visit and I was convinced that I would one day see the beautiful and exotic country. One day, I thought, in the future. Even when Spain won the FIFA World Cup, I told myself, you will go there one day. I had <i>never </i>thought that I would be able to go there more quickly than I had originally anticipated. At the same time, Spain is a not a country you visit by yourself. It is a destination that you discover with your closest friends, your spouse, your lover...whomever, but it should be with someone. Fortunately for me, it just so happened to be my best friend. While spending a semester abroad near Spain, we had discussed that it would be absolutely amazing if we were able to see each other in Spain (she lives in Spain, I live in America; we have a long-distance friendship). Excessive talking, constant dreaming, but that's it: we could only talk about it. However, realizing that all this talking would soon turn into a reality, we shifted gears from having to be patient until December and planning to do as much as we can in the time that we have. Fast forward end of December and I would spend a week in Spain with my best friend.</div>
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Landing in Madrid-Bajaras Airport, everything became visceral--I was actually in Spain. Hearing Spanish, all the signs in Spanish, and seeing my best friend for the first time in 5 months. It suddenly dawned on me that this is actually happening. That night, we had a belated Christmas dinner with two other individuals that she knew during her time in Spain. A cold meats platter, chicken, stuffed mushrooms...I inhaled every moment and all the food. The next day, we visited Alcala de Henares, a city 20 km outside of Madrid, also the place that she lives and coincidently has the largest Romanian population in Spain. Which means, delicious meats and cheeses. Exploring the lovely and under appreciated beauty of Alcala, we walked the streets, admiring the cobblestone alleyways (which are cleaned <i>every morning</i>). Touring one end of the city to the other, we had arrived to the town's square (Centro) that was all decked out in holiday glamour. The lights were all lit and hung, the large Christmas tree was decorated, and everyone was outside skating under the gloriously decorated skating rink. Alcala's centro is beautiful in an obvious sense: vivid colors, grand architecture, and lucid history. And yet, there is a tantalizing beauty, in a sense that there are passerby's that neglect to envelop the beauty of Alcala. Taking in the surroundings is like lying in the ocean on a warm summer's day: it's an experience belittled if constrained by simple words. By eating a chocolate churro, making bargains at the market, and taking in the local culture is merely part of the adventure. </div>
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The next day is when my energy vamped up, my excitement grew, and I was ready to leave the flat and take the train from Alcala to Madrid. That's right: I get to explore Madrid. When we exited the train, we switched transportation and took the metro. I really wasn't quite sure what to expect, but the sheer amount of people is certainly something I did not expect. There was people everywhere and for a couple of seconds, I was overwhelmed by the population of tourists desiring to explore the grand and illuminated capital. Puerto Del Sol, the centro of Madrid, is where we got off from the metro and there was an overwhelming sense of awe instilled in myself. People, decoration, beautiful architecture, and this urgency filled the air. My romanticized view of Europe quickly evaporated as we inaugurated our exploration of Madrid. We first explored Plaza Major, a massive market with all kinds of things: meats, toys, hats, candy, and a myriad of entertainment. It was quite a perplexing and fascinating scene since you are unsure at which to look first. Making our rounds to all the souvenir shops, we progressed on Calle Mayor, a long strip with old buildings with all forms of shops--tapas, souvenirs, ice cream shops, etc. We stopped at Plaza de la Villa to take a couple of photos and justified selfies. Plaza de la Villa is an old building situated in the middle of Calle Mayor, reminiscent of 18th century Spain. It was a painfully vivid reminder that Spain has centuries of history and the adjacent shops are only recent, a mere baby in comparison to the century-old buildings towering the horizon. Continuing on the path, we arrived at Catedral de Santa Maria de la Almudena, a basilica in Madrid constructed in 1993 that resembles the Neo-Gothic architecture that would give anyone reason to believe that it was built 4 centuries before. Directly across the Catedral is Palacio Real, the residence of the Spanish Royal Family. Taking countless photos (entirely on my part), we slowed our pace and simply continued walking throughout Madrid, eventually making our way to Templo de Debod, the Egyptian Temple. Then, slightly west to the temple is a park that overlooks part of the city. Fortunately, our timing was impeccable as we managed to catch the sunset. The warm hues of orange, yellow, and smokey pinks touched the roofs of the buildings and the sun glowed with a hazy orange, one that kisses the skin. Taking a well-deserved break and admiring the lovely sunset, we walked back to Calle Major. With the sun down and nightfall dawning, the lights came on and the city was light up with its holiday lights. Plaza Mayor was bright with its white, bubble-like light fixtures that delighted even the child at heart. Meanwhile, Sol was swarmed with people as its Christmas tree was light up and Centro shined with its various decorations: garlands on buildings, wreaths, and holiday lights hanging in the streets. It was delightful.<br />
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The very next day, we took the train and metro once again to Madrid, but having a much looser schedule. Since we were exhausted from our intense day of walking through Madrid the day before, our fatigue transferred, making our pace a little slower. We started the day by taking the metro to La Latina, the quarter of the city that hosts a massive flea market open only on Sundays. The market is filled with unique, one-of-a-kind finds such as knit sweaters, knit cowl scarves, sequin skirts that resembles traditional Spanish boleros (all of which that I purchased). There were also local photographers selling prints of their photographs, leather goods, jackets, parkas, albums, vinyls, t-shirts, and a lot of knitted accessories. It was pandaemonium, since there was as many people as there was in Sol the night before. It appeared that everyone is on the hunt of a unique find or simply a good deal. Knitted sweaters for 15 euros is a bargain, especially when the quality is unmatched and the style is very similar to something you'd find at H&M or Sfera. Taking the metro again back to Sol for a quick lunch break, we explored Plaza Callao whilst enjoying a Starbucks drink in the heart of Madrid. (It is tradition to have a Starbucks in whatever city we are in.) The last item on the list was to see Edificio Metropolis. I have pinned many photos of Metropolis, but to go the very building was something I have been looking forward to ever since I found out I was going to Madrid. Paying the entrance fee to terrace that took us to the roof adjacent to Metropolis, we overlooked the other part of the city. Again, with the sun setting, it was a scene unable to conjure with words. This is where my writing fails me: I simply cannot begin to describe how I felt at the top of that roof, overlooking Madrid, looking at Edificio Metropolis...It cannot be summed up in words. It is one thing to see the building at sunset, with the purple, red, and pink hues cloaking the city. But once nightfall came and the lights came on...It was magical. With the whole city light up, everything was illuminated, and it was an experience I carry with me. The moment itself was not grandeur; but it is one of those moments in life that I will recall vividly that is profound. My best friend and I just kept scanning the city with an immense sense of awe and magnificence on our lips. We kept saying, "Wow, it's so beautiful" over and over again, and perhaps that seems trite, but there was really nothing else we could say. It really is so beautiful. I would visit the place countless times, with my best friend, with other comrades, with my boyfriend, with everyone I hold dear to me. If there is one moment that I will treasure from my trip, it would certainly be being on that roof, overlooking the city, a hazy blur of lights wherever your looked.<br />
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The next morning, after 2 full days of exploring Madrid, we were entirely tired. Our feet ached, we were sore, and we were tired. Taking a day off, we simply stayed in my friend's flat and watched films, ate whatever we wished, and chatted. With New Years Eve the next day, we had our list of festivities. Shopping for groceries at the local Carrefour, we spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for a classical concert at Teatro Salon Cervantes, Alcala's theatre with a New Years Eve party afterward at my friend's peer's flat. Spending the night and early morning laughing, having fun, and making lasting memories, we explored Alcala at night. With no one in sight, we rang in the New Year with each other, accompanied by a Spanish tradition of eating 12 grapes, signifying 12 months of fruit (both literally and figuratively). New Years Day was my last full day in Spain and we spent it savouring the sights and unspoken beauty of Alcala, as well as eating tapas. I couldn't leave Spain without having tapas. Having a rich experience of Spain, I had a heavy heart regarding my departure since I was not ready to leave. I had to bid Spain adios, but I didn't think it would pass by so quickly, with so much happening, and experiencing so much.<br />
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Saying goodbye to the people I just met was incredibly difficult seeing as they made part of my trip. Travelling is not merely the sights I saw or what I purchased as a token of my trip. It is rather the experiences I made and had while being abroad. This certainly illuminated and brought to remembrance many things I want from life, and while being in a foreign country, it was truly fulfilling. This was my first time in Spain, but it is certainly not the last. I will come back and each time, I will see things through a fresh perspective, a new way of thinking, a different way of seeing the world.ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-54408003594808805392014-02-01T17:38:00.002-05:002014-02-01T17:38:57.215-05:00ReflectionsHello, my beloved readers! I apologize profusely and indelibly for my lack of writing, activity on my blog, and posts. I proposed that I would be more active on my blog and it's February and it's my first post in 2014. Epic fail. The truth of the matter is, resolutions are always great at the beginning, but then when they start to lose their stigma, so does the determination to keep up with them. Alas, this brings me to February and my first post in 2014. And yet, I didn't want to immediately jump on writing what the new year can bring and everything I plan to accomplish because I wanted ample time to reflect on 2013. What I did, what I lost, what I gained, what I learned, what I appreciated. I wanted to reflect the previous year with an eminent respect so that I can begin 2014 on the right foot, with the right mindset, and with the right perspective. When looking back on the previous year, I can make adjustments, start over, or continue. Thus, falling off the grid socially can be therapeutic and remedial.<br />
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A constant message surrounding 2013 is the ubiquity of change. Change is everywhere; change occurs ceaselessly; and change occurs slowly yet rapidly. And I would be remiss without mentioning style. But before I delve in my world of style and fashion, let me start by saying that it is much deeper than that. Beginning in July, I began an intense workout regime and dietary restrictions to lose weight. Prior to this, I was solely motivated to lose weight on the account that I would look good, I would be slimmer, and appear more attractive. While all those are true, I wanted to lose weight because I wanted to look the best that I can, without vain ulterior motives. Since then, I have 12-13 lbs and I have dropped a dress size (and a half...technically...). My self-esteem and self-confidence has increased greatly, but to be honest, I'm not seeking validation from others, if I look good or if I'm slimmer. It's what <i>I </i>think about myself, and finally, I made peace with my body. A positive repercussion of my weight loss allowed me to discover new regions of fashion that I was otherwise inhibited since it wouldn't flatter my body shape or I simply couldn't pull it off. I found myself wearing prints, styles of skirts, and colors that I otherwise would not have worn. Brief pause. I want you to understand that my weight loss was not motivated by selfish desires or by vanity. It was the simple fact that my body can look better and I wanted to do that, for my body's sake. I finally could wear clothes that I've always wanted to wear and that's when it occurred to me that clothes are a mere representation of our mental, emotional, and social growth. A person who is growing mentally and emotionally will not wear the same clothes that she wore a year or even 2 years ago. Likewise, just as my style and personal fashion sense evolves, so does my mind and interpersonally. When a woman begins to change her style, it is a sign of intellectual maturity as well as interpersonal growth.<br />
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They say that travelling opens your eyes to the vast world and introduces you to the bigger picture. It comes to no surprise that I absolutely adore traveling. The changing of planes, the grabbing my suitcase, looking outside the window and realizing that I am in a new country, a new continent, <i>a new place</i> absolutely thrills me. Naturally, I do romanticize travelling a tad since it is often not quite as luxurious as I describe it, but the actual experience is something I thrive in. I was fortunate enough to spend my entire summer in Europe, an entire 3 months submerged in a culture unlike the one I am accustomed to. I ate the same foods, shopped at the same stores, walked the same paths, and spoke the same language (albeit with some hesitancy), and saw the same sights. However, when my summer was over and I returned to my once comfortable place, I immediately recognized that I was not the same person. The person that left North America and left Europe are two different people. Reconciling this fact proved difficult as I struggled to embrace my experience in Europe in America, since many of the social and cultural norms in Europe are foreign, alien, and even quietly dismissed. Thus, I found myself in an inner qualm: how do I continue my life without feeling the pangs of my experience? I couldn't separate the two--I was no longer the same person when I had left for Europe. Seeing the expectations of people who assumed that I would return the same with seeing beautiful scenery was not the case. I was truly transformed mentally, emotionally, and even culturally. This revelation reached its peak when I returned to Europe for a month in December. It was strange that I was longing for a place that is not immediately familiar yet bizarrely fitting. The way of life, the type of people, the style of communication...Learning lessons and priceless advice from the people that I've encountered. You cannot put a price on an adventure learned abroad. To this, I have one thing to say: Travel often. As much as you can. Whenever you can. Don't just travel and see things, take pictures, and return. <i>Experience it. </i>Traveling does indeed make life richer.<br />
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<br />ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-52079369503948278822013-11-10T00:22:00.001-05:002013-11-10T00:53:19.246-05:00Living > ExistingThe desire to step outside the boundaries, to venture out of the familiar and known, and to tantalize the fine yet primitive line distinguishing between my self and my identity. There is an incorruptible impulse to be a part of something much larger than myself, to cheat oblivion, and to waltz with the provocative paradigm of living. Existing is a heartless existence, through which it forces you with the idea that going day to day with mundane and repetitive occurrences is a formidable pattern that is worthy of imitation. It is a flirtatious thought that does not ceases to entice you with a lugubrious lifestyle, one that smiles with promise, yet dances with infidelity regarding its possibilities. You can view yourself through a glass mirror, reflecting the thoughts and actions previous, doomed to be on the repeat button, and skipping over the best part of the song. The simple yet visceral motive to be is one that strikes the cord of every individual that breathes, that has blood flowing through his veins, and has a heart that beats.<br />
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Day after day, month after month, year after year. Time is nothing but a force that inherently reflects our nature, the characteristics that express our inmost being. Time is also the looming presence that reminds you of wishes unfilled, potential gone to waste, desires unmet, and goals withered to nothing but a mere vacuum, representing the black hole of life. It is a vivid recollection the dreams you painted in your youth that has collected to dust during the times of adulthood and responsibilities. It expresses the tangible but void impulse to ignite the passion that has been lost, the fire that has gone out, and the drive that was once present. Time is untouchable, yet its of quality of permeability is unparalleled.<br />
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What causes an individual to stop and smell the flowers, to revel in the beauty of memories, and to smile? When the conscious caution that there is no garden to enjoy the lovely and pixelated aromas of the tulips, roses, and gardenias, the perfume lingeringly in the air; its presence lightly kissing the sense. When the alarming reality that few memories exist where they play on an endless loop, experiencing every thought, every feeling, every moment, and every action as vividly as it occurred. The dismal actuality that smiling is an action that connects the emotions with the mouth, indicating a joyful moment or occasion. Smiling is also an instinct; it is done unconsciously. Such a time is so rare that recalling it akin to remembering moments as an infant. It is a painful reminder that much time has elapsed, but little living has been done.<br />
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Living is essential to the human soul. It nourishes the core of human essence. Living is essential to an individual's existence. Living is necessary. It is absolutely necessary.ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-14892171925284414852013-10-22T15:18:00.002-04:002013-10-22T15:18:27.726-04:00Autumnal Ennui Transitioning from one season to another can often be an exciting thing, but more often than not, it can be mundane going from one chapter to the next. It can be analogous in life, as seasons often mirror the mental, emotional, and physical evolution of the self. When a person is constantly evolving, moving from summer to fall inspires new aspirations, ambitions, and dreams. And yet, since we are human and not impervious to fall into a pit, it may not always be the case. If summer provided wonderful opportunities and amazing new experiences, fall can be perceived as a graveyard for what once was. Perhaps that may be a tad histrionic, but that is what is can honestly and viscerally feel like. The meaning behind the word ennui derives from the language to mean lifelessness due to a lack of excitement. In succinct prose, it essentially means a lack of drive in life originating from boredom or inspiration. In fact, as I will continue on this tangent, it can be easy to lie in the ennui and let life pass you by, becoming a character in your story that you read about as opposed to experiencing it firsthand. If life is akin to a story or novel, rereading the same chapter over and over and over again induces nostalgia and boredom. Likewise, life shouldn't revisit things past. That is not to say to appreciate what has occurred or learn from the past, but don't live in it. So, the question I pose is how to get over this autumnal ennui? Surprisingly, there are simple things that you can do that not only brighten your spirits, but also inspire you in a way you never would have imagined.<div>
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1. Build upon your wardrobe by purchasing fall-esque pieces.</div>
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This is not to sound petty or completely materialistic, but buying a new top or skirt can put a smile on your face. Plus, if it a wardrobe staple that can function in the fall as well as other seasons, it can be extremely versatile. Also, mixing and matching pieces in your closet is a fantastic way to go shopping in your own closet. Pairing pieces of clothing together that you already have creates a different look every single time you step out of your room. In the meantime, the effect of a compliment paid to a person largely beneficial. Who doesn't like hearing something nice about themselves, particularly when it's about how you look? Precisely. I must add that it isn't about vanity; rather, it is the recognition that humans being the sociable creatures that we are like hearing nice things about ourselves (particularly if it's true). A boost of confidence is always a great thing. So go ahead, buy those heels you've been eying and the skirt you've lusted for some time now. Wear it proudly. </div>
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2. Rearrange your room/apartment/suite/dorm</div>
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Rearranging your room or apartment or wherever you live is such a simple thing to do, but it can do so much more than merely moving around pieces of furniture. It can create new space, it can remove clutter, it can provide locations for old things to leave and for new things to take its place (my apologies for the profuse use of insightful metaphors), and to add little knickknacks here and there. Purchasing an ornament in your favorite color can provide a burst of color in your room, a sense of vibrancy, and a pop of color stimulates the mind. Adding lights can create a peaceful and contemplative ambience. Starting a library of your own is always a great place to start. Maps are a fantastic way to inexpensively decorate the room. (Plus, glancing at the map can inspire you to travel and see the world.) Adding throw pillows to liven up your bed spread. Lamps are always a good idea. Simple suggestions that can ultimately change the entire mood of your room. </div>
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3. Flowers</div>
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I have this recent obsession with flowers. I'm not exactly sure and I'm not sure if I can explain why, but I can't stop looking at pictures of flowers and flowers in vases. Whether you prefer to have real flowers from the supermarket or fake flowers, it really doesn't matter. It's all a matter of preference. But I will add, having real flowers does smell nice...It adds color to the room in addition to providing a sense of femininity. Putting them in vases is the real fun, though, because the possibilities are literally endless. You can put them in tall vases, short vases, wide vases, lean vases, etc., etc., etc. At the end of the day, having flowers are a minimalistic way to add a certain je nais c'est quoi to your room. It not only looks nice, but it can also smell nice, if you get real ones. </div>
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4. Read. This isn't some literati post that is supposed to tell you that reading is a wonderful way to tell you the world of literature. The world of Austen,Tolstoy, Dumas, or Fitzgerald. While I can very much that literature is a strangely dazzling yet marvellous realm, I'm suggesting reading for an entirely different reason. Rather than reading for your classes or because you're assigned to, read a book for leisure. Read about travel. Read about what makes you happy, sad, passionate, or peaceful. Regardless of the reason, read for the simple sake of experiencing the emotions of that novel. Experience the protagonist's delight, heartache, and accomplishment. Vicariously time travel to Vienna in the '70s. For whatever reason, just read. </div>
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5. Gain variety in your makeup. As a college student, I don't have a lot of time in the morning to develop extravagant makeup looks and I migrate towards a particular look. But quickly, I realized that I entered into a makeup rut. I always had the same look, the same application, and even the same colors. Instead of doing what you routinely do, try new colors, try a different look, wear a different color lipstick, wear a lipstick for a change. Try something different. Having a different makeup look every day enhances your features in a different way every single time. You express a lot of yourself through your makeup, so let your palette do the talking. Be the woman that when you walk through the room, all eyes are on you and question who you are. "Who is that woman?" everyone whispered to each other with urgent curiosity. Wear eggplant eyeliner, wear maroon lipstick, wear plum eyeshadow, highlight your lips. Doing something different with your makeup can really boost a woman's self-esteem and confidence. But it really showcases your beauty because when you do something different and yet people still can't stop looking at you...It's not because of the products. It's because of the beauty and radiance that precedes the cosmetics. If you are aware of the plethora of talent in the Youtube world, then you also know that it can be the perfect canvas for experimenting with makeup and hair and other things. Among the endless list of beauty bloggers, my personal favorites are <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/zoella280390" target="_blank">Zoella</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrIIH7yHQugaUuoTZDoEUuQ" target="_blank">Tanya Burr</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/pixiwoo" target="_blank">Pixiwoo</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLFW3EKD2My9swWH4eTLaYw" target="_blank">Chloe Morello</a>, and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/FleurDeForce/featured" target="_blank">Fleur</a>. </div>
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6. Take a weekend trip. With an unquenchable desire to travel, even going somewhere for the weekend is a good place to start. Anywhere within 6 hours is the perfect time because it provides ample car time for jamming out to tunes, chatting with your road trip companions, and experiencing the stops along the way. Whether it's NYC, Boston, Charleston, or Philly, enjoy it for the weekend. Have the 3 days away from whatever it is that you return to on Monday. See new things, try new foods, and meet new people. Go out and experience the world. </div>
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7. Go for coffee dates.</div>
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That may include actually going out to a coffee shop, but it can also include making coffee and going to someone's room or dorm and spending the hour discussing anything other than routines and assignments. If you decide to go to a coffee shop, go with people, go with someone else, or go by yourself. Soak in the atmosphere. Bring a book to read. Talk to someone near you. You never know what might happen...If you decide to stay indoors, talk about ambitions, goals, travel plans. You can surprise yourself where the conversation may lead. Above all things, enjoy yourself. </div>
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I certainly hope that this post has inspired you in some way. It may not even necessarily be anything that is on this list. It can be to see that indie movie playing at the local cinema, baking a new recipe, or taking up dancing. It can be anything. Whatever it is that you enjoy or can frighten you (in the best way possible). Enjoy this season. It will be the only Autumn 2013 you will ever have, so enjoy it and make it memorable. </div>
ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-90882458015226540532013-09-28T20:58:00.000-04:002013-09-28T20:58:03.109-04:00Seasons <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Seasons are a part of life. The seasons naturally transition from summer, to fall, to winter, to spring, and the cycle begins anew. The leaves fall, the trees are barren in the winter months, the trees blossom with vivid pastels, and the air with damp with moisture during the summer. Nature depicts a cycle that is incessant, constant, unchanging. Yet, while these seasons promise sameness, a quality that life remains the way it was, it also glistens with change, with a metamorphosis, a sense of a foreign wind on the horizon. Change is a part of life, and while change is uncomfortable, it allows us to grow more comfortably in our skin. When a season of change, of difference, of alien territory enters my life, it a struggle, a plight that often overwhelms me and would rather ignore. That is something that I very much wanted to happen when I was in Europe for the summer.<br />
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When I was told that I would spend 3 months in Europe, I was beyond elated. Scared and frightened what I could encounter, but excited nonetheless. However, when I was informed that I would spend time in Romania--my country of origin--suddenly I wasn't so excited anymore. I didn't want anything to do with the people, the culture, the country, nothing. I wanted to distance myself from everything I would eventually encounter. The first 2 weeks of settling in Romania was extremely difficult, and that it not something I say lightly. Personal matters have exploded and combusted that sent my family in a slight state of turmoil, augmenting our difficulty to adjust to the culture. Shortly thereafter, it was as if an obstacle was removed from our path, an obstruction no longer present. I found myself eager to get the place from where I come, the people that would have been neighbors, and the way of life. I wanted to get Romania. I began to drink in the culture, discovering the music, taste, scents, and sounds that made up this fascinating country. I began to recognize people, their mannerisms, and their characteristics. I began to dress myself as a European, no longer lusting over European vogue via Pinterest, but actually getting inspiration from the streets of Oradea, Timisoara, Cluj, Sibiu, and Brasov. I wanted to <i>experience </i>Romania. That was a massive turning point because before that, I would have bartered something to have as little to do with it as possible. And in hindsight, I held some prejudices solely based on a person that embodied everything I disliked about the country. Once that individual left the picture, suddenly, I began to see Romania for the first time in my life. I really began to see. As I would travel to the country and mountain regions, I would encounter different kinds of people in comparison to the ones I would see in more cosmopolitan regions. The deeply set wrinkles all tell a story of hardships, effort, and sacrifice, while the frivolity of the young generation angers the older generation. The people, places, things, lifestyles, and attitudes became part of my experience. I had finally allowed the experience to change how I saw things, how I did things, how I thought regarding particular topics. My taste palettes had matured, my thought processed matured also, my eyesight and perception had gone through a metamorphosis, the way I touch and view touch has changed, and how I hear had changed. All of my 5 senses had irrevocably changed. For the better. I saturated myself in a culture that began to show me clearer images of who I really am. Instead of distancing myself, I drew myself closer to it, inevitably allowing me to change for the better.<br />
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It has been nearly 2 months since I've returned to America and the experiences, smells, sights, sounds, and people are as vivid as though I experienced it yesterday. I had returned to my 3rd year in college as a completely different person. I left Canada to Europe for the summer as one person and leaving Europe to go back to school in America as another. I see, think, smell, touch, and hear things completely different than that of 3 months ago. I simply cannot have such an enriching experience and then continue as if it had not changed me. I would be lying if my time abroad had not changed me, not simply for the locations and places that I visited, but rather the experience of saturating oneself in a culture different that what is known or comfortable. This made adjusting to college life (and American life) much more difficult than I had anticipated (but that's another topic, altogether). Before, I felt that I was stuck between 2 worlds--Canada and America--but after this summer, it's inclining toward me being misplaced.<br />
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Seasons come and go. But they always return at the same time every year. In this season where the leaves are changing and the temperature dips, I find myself in an inexplicable place where things are not the same yet nothing has changed. Growing into myself and growing in the world around me is not necessarily an easy task, but yet, there is some element of unpredictability that I simply cannot resist.ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-80501406803772361632013-09-06T17:58:00.000-04:002013-09-06T17:58:03.951-04:00Carpe Diem I do not find this the least amount of surprising, that I have not worn out the effects that Europe has on me. In fact, if anything, I emphasize it here during my time in America. When someone experiences a different way of life, how to do life, it's difficult to shake that experience off. It is hard to unsee or unexperience things once they have been seen or experienced. Gaining a lot of my personal style from Europe (particularly Britain and France), it's not a surprise when I try to implement that on my school campus and my own personal style. Thanks to the invention of tumblr and Pinterest, I receive daily inspiration, augmenting my European vogue. A very popular trend is the headscarf. It is something I have wanted to do for a very long time, yet it was something I could not achieve. For whatever reason, I just didn't do it. However, I envied people who could pull it off and could wear it well. <div>
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So finally, while perusing Pinterest and lusting over several blogs, I finally got the courage to pull it off. Taking a couple of tries and several missed attempts. I have finally pulled off the headscarf trend. Deciding to not go along the whole hipster, edgy alley, I veered towards a very European look. It seems a little trite to share this rather mundane news with the people of the internet, but this is quite an achievement for me, since I very rarely do anything with my hairstyle that doesn't include bobby pins or hats. So this, is very much, seizing the day. </div>
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-61294316506382076312013-09-03T19:46:00.001-04:002013-09-03T19:46:20.231-04:00Septembre <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'll be very honest with you--I was never much a fan of autumn, mostly for the reason that I never got to experience it. Many lust and lavish in this wonderful season by experiencing the leaves change color, indulging in coffee shops speciality drinks (ahem, the pumpkin drinks available at Starbucks), and dressing in comfy knits. Growing up in Canada, we don't experience fall; we experience winter and summer. So fall is literally only a few weeks for me. As a result, I never got to experience wearing the comfy knits, laying up in cute vests and jackets, wearing chic boots, and literally wrapping myself in scarves because when I would be able to, the season to wear such clothing would be over. And then winter would come. So, ever since living in Virginia, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that fall is a full season--a good 2-3 months. Imagine that! It was then that I was able to discover seasonal drinks at Starbucks, I could invest in light yet fashionable jackets (a woman can never have too many jackets), and buy three-quarters sleeve shirts. And so with autumn on the horizon, I am quite ready for autumn weather and fashion. Akin to be reunited with an old friend, these are several things I am waiting for upon the arrival of fall.<br />
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1. Jackets. I am very much a jacket aficionado. My roommate once linked me to Blair Waldorf (a <i>huge </i>compliment on my part), since I owned so many coats. In my defense, I hardly thought that owning 10 different types of jackets was a lot, but nonetheless, I was quite flattered by her connection. Due to my upbringing in Canada, I do, in fact, own quite a lot of jackets. However, some of them serve a purely aesthetic purpose. Simply because it is cold outside does not mean that my fashion sense needs to suffer. I enjoy wearing all types of coats: trench coats, double-breasted jackets, bomber jackets, peacoats, and blazers. It is such a staple of fall fashion: it is a vehicle upon which individuals can express their individuality through coats. That is why jackets serve a much higher purpose that merely a practical one. Yes, jackets are supposed to cover you up and keep you warm in cold temperatures, but they are also supposed to be very stylish.<br />
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2. Darker neutrals. Spring is all about soft, muted neutrals, whereas autumn is about darker, smokier neutrals. Colors such as oxblood, maroon, burnt orange, and gray are popular, some of which I am particularly excited to wear. Color palettes darker, resulting in more frequent fashion risks. Darker colors elicit a more confident, more adventurous, and more exciting vibe. Wearing these colors can perhaps prompt you to do things that you never though you'd do, such as calling that guy who gave you his number, flirting in a more blatant manner, and going to different places. Colors, speaking from a psychologically point of view, can also illustrate how a new season of life is on the horizon.<br />
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3. Tea. More opportunities for tea. Rain, cold temperatures, sleep days. Those are all opportunities for tea. Vanilla rooibos, earl gray, chamomile, chai, etc. It is essentially the perfect season to indulge in teas, buy more teas, and take more trips to Starbucks.<br />
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4. Leisure reading. Although fall is often when the school semester amps up its reading and assignment load, there are moments when Netflix, Pinterest, tumblr, Twitter, instagram, and any other social media does not satisfy leisure time. Rather, I find myself scanning my bookshelf for the next novel to read, the next world to enter in, and the next plethora of characters I will encounter. Recently, I am planning on finishing <i>Emma</i>, and then go on to read <i>Jane Eyre. </i><br />
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-82820363647634930692013-08-28T16:01:00.002-04:002013-08-28T20:44:08.724-04:00A Transpiring Between Two Lovers, Part VII<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">7. Mon Coeur</span><br />
Can you recall when there are moments when you desire something, but lack the courage to act on it? There are times when an incomprehensible amount of courage is all that is necessary to act upon the desires of one's heart. Then, daydreaming and imagining is no longer necessary.<br />
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<i>It was a day of no particular occurrence. The weather was pleasant, the birds were chirping merrily outside my window, and the air had just the right amount of humidity to lightly kiss the skin. However, all these arbitrary observations merely augment what transpired in the following hours. At some point during the day, your name popped in my head and immediately, I was at a loss. I got distracted. I began recalling the details I had memorized: the lovely way the skin under your eyes bunches when your smile, how soft your skin feels when it lightly grazes against mine, the coy smirk when you're thinking of something you deliberate on sharing with me, and how intense your gaze is when you're in conversation. The lustre in your eyes blossoms to an unfathomable hue when you're talking to someone, especially when that person is myself. It suddenly caused me to grow increasingly anxious to see you--to catch sight off all these little details that compose your physical makeup. Unable to stop myself and quench the desire to see you, I picked myself off the couch and made my way towards your room. Reviewing several speeches in my head to imitate smooth prose, I quickly stopped dead in my tracks, my feet planting a full stop a couple of feet away from your door. I recoiled behind the corner when I heard your gregarious and infectious laugh followed by an unfamiliar male's voice. I recognized that laugh; you laugh that way when someone says something you enjoy. I know that because it's a frequent laugh I hear when we're together. The hairs on my arms stuck up like every cell in my body received a dangerous amount of electricity. My heart was beating outside my chest and reverberating loudly. Painstakingly quiet, I listened. I heard him chuckle nervously before clearing his throat. I knew the course he was taking. Where he was going. I gulped loudly. I heard his voice fluctuate before inquiring a date tomorrow evening at a restaurant I certainly knew you disliked. I was fairly sure that my heart would leap out of my chest as I painfully listened for your reply. You sigh sharply, not expecting to enter this situation. You asked him for the time and I could hear the smile in his voice when he gave you a reply. Even though it seemed like your voice was off, you responded with having to double-check your schedule to make sure you're free, but you will definitely let him know. My heart sank. The blood in my veins froze. The rhythmic beating of my heart stopped. a million and questions rushed through my head, but somehow, in the midst of chaotic cacophony, my mind managed to conjure a single coherent word. Why? In a momentary lapse of reason and all known logic, I waited for a couple of moments to pass before approaching you. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, fifty, seven-hundred, two million. The door swung open and shut with a vehement clang. Walking at an impeccably slow pace, I knocked at your door, feeling as lifeless as a corpse yet sensing an exhilaration that was completely alien. You opened the door and I saw how your eyes lit up and you gave me a merry smile. You greeted me so excitedly, I could feel the back of my knees buckle. This was the first I saw you in a couple of weeks. Much time has elapsed since I saw you last. Many things that I wish I could explain, but I couldn't formulate the words. I saw how your face slowly dropped and anger flashed in your eyes.</i><br />
<i>"Hi," you said coldly to me.</i><br />
<i>"Hello," I responded warmly, giving her a boyish smile, unsure where this was all coming from. I sensed as though a foreign agent inhabited my body and controlled all my movements and thoughts. </i><br />
<i>"What are you doing here?" she asked me with an equally frigid tone. What she was really asking me was why am I here after so much time. </i><br />
<i>I don't know why I said it, but I did. "I heard you got asked out on a date."</i><br />
<i>She didn't respond at first and the expression on her face was blank. After careful consideration, she told me that she was indeed and then inquired how I knew this.</i><br />
<i>"I was just on my way to come see you and then I heard it."</i><br />
<i>"Oh really?" She crossed her arms. "Is that so?"</i><br />
<i>I nodded my head in affirmation. Expecting a question to continue this train of thought, she stared at me with her intense gaze, her eyes unbelievably vivid. </i><br />
<i>"Why haven't I seen you?"</i><br />
<i>I stared at her, flabbergasted, sensing the sudden surge of confidence seep through me, emptying. I looked at the ground, unable to answer her question. </i><br />
<i>"Look at me when I'm talking to you," she remarked hoarsely. "I asked you a question."</i><br />
<i>"I just...couldn't anymore."</i><br />
<i>"You couldn't what anymore?"</i><br />
<i>The shrillness in her voice gave me a sensation akin to a women scratching her nails against a chalkboard. I sighed and without revision, I let all the words slip out that I have carefully guarded these past weeks.</i><br />
<i>"I couldn't look at you without wanting to stare deeply in your beautifully vivid eyes, telling me a story with a mere change in expression. I couldn't be near you without wanting to hold you close to me, your skin near mine, feeling the warmth of your skin against my own, and having the electricity of your silhouette tease my consciousness. I couldn't be with you without wanting so many things that I couldn't afford to desire."</i><br />
<i>I saw her expression change several times during my speech, but when I finished, she remained quiet. </i><br />
<i>"You were the one who said you wanted to be friends and we couldn't continue what we had," she whispered, detecting her voice cracking slightly in the middle. </i><br />
<i>"I know that."</i><br />
<i>"Then why did you say it? Didn't you want to be friends?" She appeared in pain when she posed this question to me, her face contorted in an uncomfortable stance. </i><br />
<i>I sighed loudly. "It wasn't enough," I spoke so quietly, I wasn't sure she heard me. I felt her palm on my cheek, sending my body in an unprecedented frenzy. </i><br />
<i>"So then why did you push me away?"</i><br />
<i>I looked at her and her eyes were so warm. "I told myself that you didn't feel the same way and that I couldn't allow myself to like you any longer."</i><br />
<i>She tossed her a coy smirk. "People can't explain it, but the heart wants what the heart wants."</i><br />
<i>I permitted myself to take her hand and hold it. I chuckled how preposterous it sounded, but seeing as I was saying stupid things and obviously not acting in my right mind, I asked her: "So, would you like to go to dinner tomorrow evening? That is, as long as you don't have anything planned."</i><br />
<i>Her response was lightning quick. "I have nothing planned." </i><br />
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-77111705542117394142013-08-24T01:11:00.001-04:002013-08-24T01:11:06.856-04:00Italy and Switzerland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The last leg of my European adventure took place in Italy. Or rather, Italy, Austria, and Switzerland, but this was very special to me. In all honesty, every place I have visited thus far on my journey has been unique special and cherishing in its own way, but when I revisit places that have a home-like quality to them, it's refreshing. I was secretly hoping that during my time in Europe, I would eventually find myself in Switzerland or Italy, with vehement aspirations that I would revisit the lovely and beautiful scenery that has been close to my heart. Alas, it came to be when it was announced to me that we would be traveling over there for only a couple of days. A couple of days is all I needed.</div>
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A 11 hour car ride surprisingly went by incredibly fast. Passing through Hungary and Austria zoomed past us with its flat plains and then swerving hills and mountains. However, perhaps it was 33 degree (91 F) weather outside that kept every driver preoccupied on arriving home safely and taking a much needed albeit impromptu trek to the lake, as the incredibly hot weather is unheard of in the mountainous regions in Europe. With everyone that stopped and chatted, it was unanimous: it was very hot. Apart from the irregularly mild weather, the drive was of little consequence or event.</div>
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We arrived at a quaint, family-owned pension (budget friendly apartment style villas) just outside of Innsbruck. The pension has a breathtaking view of the Austrian Alps as you open the window along with vivid flowers blooming along the windowsill. Now, I must pause and take a moment to discuss the breakfast menu. I am very much a food person--I greatly enjoy food, but I enjoy well-made and delicious food. For breakfast, there is a lovely spread with a cold meats platter consisting of smoked speck, prosciutto, Genoa salami, Havarti, and Emmentaler cheese, along with 3 different varieties of bread. The owner would personally come and big you good morning (g<i>uten morgen!</i>) and offer you coffee, tea, or fresh orange juice. The hospitality was absolutely pleasant. The entire style of the pension was very much mountainside rustic style with modern appliances and decor. </div>
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The first day was relatively very relaxed and tranquil; we spent the day in Switzerland. This was of course very exciting for me since it was my first time back in a year. My connection with the country runs very deep and I do consider it one of my homes. I feel very comfortable and at home in Switzerland. We went to Coop, the second largest retail and grocery supermarket and Switzerland and indulged in my favorites: mango Fanta, fresh croissants, and salivating over the Swiss cuisine (which included every single food article in the store). At this particular time, I realized that glancing at the meager mall with a limited number of stores would quickly get boring, so my sister decided (stupidly, might I add, on my part) to run in the pouring rain to the next shopping plaza only to comprehend that there was literally nothing to loo at. Or rather, that interested us, since it was a home store very similar to Ikea. Then, getting my outfit drenched even further, we leaped across the plaza to another nearby shopping mall. Purchasing an umbrella in the anticipation of using it, the rain stopped and we walked to Manor (a fashion retail store) with our clothes completely soaked. After that adventure, we ate lunch at a quaint restaurant that serves delicious pizza while enjoying the company and smell of fresh rain. It was a picturesque vista that reminded me of the exact reason why and how I fell in love with Switzerland in the first place: the peaceful feel of the country side, kind people, beautiful scenery, and delicious food. </div>
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The next day, however, was the highlight of the trip. We ventured to Italy. Under an hour drive from Innsbruck, we stopped in Brunico, a resort town with a lovely town square. The town was bustling with excitement and activity since the country has vacation and there were tourists everywhere--sitting in cafes, enjoying a stroll, or biking. We stopped for a short while to enjoy the quiet and serene scenery. Afterward, we continued relatively close by to another town whose name escapes me to join an elderly man on a business lunch with my father. The entire conversation between my father and this man was in Italian, but that did not hinder the man's ability to express kindness and interest. Afterwards, since it was conveniently along the way to the Trento area, we explored and viewed the Dolomites. A breathtaking vista of jagged peaks and knife-like edges, indulging in this scenery was truly spectacular. Attempting to account the splendour and grandeur of the mountains is truly a formidable task. Hopefully the photos will be able to capture something words clearly cannot. </div>
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Once touring the Dolomites had come to a close, we drove to Caldario, a small Italian town in the Trento area that is absolutely lovely. It is reminiscent of a classic Italian town, complete with vineyards everywhere, old rustic architecture, and gelato stands. Naturally, I did very Italian things while exploring Caldario: eating a pizza, indulging in a gelato, and talking for hours on end. We stood by the lake, which is a relatively small lake with a stepladder, with two hills in the background (while we were there, the sun was beginning to set and there was a beautiful contrast between the sun-kissed hills and the serene lake). A restaurant was overlooking the lake, so people were sitting down, conversing amongst themselves--laughing, eating, admiring, glancing. There was conversation everywhere but there was such communication and emotional intimacy buzzing in the atmosphere. It was evident that people did not merely meet to just eat, but rather to enjoy this moment in time together.</div>
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On the last day, I found myself in Switzerland again, only on a much more relaxed state. There was no business that needed to occur that day, so it was just time with my father and sister. This translated in going grocery shopping and stocking up on food articles not available in North America (or Eastern Europe, for that matter). Once the necessary purchase of cold meats, cheese, chocolate, and sweets were complete, we sat down for another pizza (yes, another pizza, because all I've eaten on this trip was pizza) at Churfisten. We sat outside and enjoy the warm afternoon sun. Whilst waiting for our food to arrive, the military had been released and I observed the flood of young men returning home after being in training. It was impeccable timing, since the moment the last few men boarded the train, the food arrived. Savoring every bite with its infusion of spices and flavor, eating is always like a refined culinary experience. Devouring the delicious frappe, I noticed a sweet young couple sitting adjacent from me. A young lady, with long blonde hair, arrived doed-eyed and delightfully in love with her boyfriend, a tall young man with short brown hair. Their interaction was particularly interesting. Rather than sit and stare at their phones while exchanging few to no words, they kept caressing each other's hands, holding them and feeling the sensation of a touch while talking. They talked a lot. But it wasn't an obnoxious, chatty banter. Rather, it was a sweet and irrevocably invested conversation about the everyday occurrences in each other's lives. But the entire time they talked or laughed, they held hands. It was so sweet and intimate. </div>
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While reflecting on the this journey, I was painfully aware that seeing such sights, exploring such towns, and meeting such wonderful people is the entire meaning of traveling. It is not merely to say and report to friends that you have gone so and so, but rather to have an experience. To see, taste, touch, smell, and hear something something. Alas, it truly was. </div>
ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-35447537230415548302013-07-24T11:43:00.000-04:002013-07-24T11:43:02.443-04:00How Being in Europe Has Helped With My Confidence As a precaution, you should know that this is a very transparent post. I have often deferred from such posts since I felt that being transparent with viewers on the internet would be a little odd. First, you have no idea who I am, so that stirred a sense of fear. And second, I wouldn't want to share my personal information with just anyone, never mind people on the web. However, all that seemed not to matter once I got a blog. Or more importantly, once I realized that my blog was my safe writing space (apart from my journal). Nonetheless, these are my thoughts--personal and otherwise--during my 3 month stay in Europe this summer.<br />
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As most people I interact with may know, I am spending my summer in Europe, or more specifically, Romania. This does sound rather luxurious, exotic, cultural, and whatever adjective you wish to insert, but I assure you, it's not as glamorous as it appears. It took a very long to adjust to the culture, the way of life, the method of thinking, the way people are, act, and speak, and how the country functions. It was more difficult to adjust simply because this was going to be a long haul. It's not a two week stay, like last year, where we switched on survival mode and got the heck out of there. On the contrary, it was going to be a longer stay in one place, so we better learn how things work around here. That was a very difficult task. Everyone in my family dealt with it differently--some stuffed it, while others vented their frustration more often (i.e. me). Things are done completely different than what I used to back in Canada and even the United States. People are different, the way things are done are entirely different, and the standard for things are different as well. Which brings me to my main point: my confidence suffered rather significantly as a result of this world I was thrusted in. Girls dress quite differently (and I say that as politely as I can), many women are <i>thinner </i>and <i>more petite </i>than I (although it can be argued whether skinny is equated to <i>toned</i>), and receive a lot of attention as a result from their, er, fashion choices. A tainted filter entered my perspective, causing to see myself in a negative light. However, regardless of the struggles I initially faced when I first arrived here, I realized, quite early on actually, that this is a good thing. A very good thing, in fact, and I'll tell you why.<br />
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1. I mentioned that the women in Europe in general are more petite and thinner, but that is not the result of a healthy lifestyle. Again, I'm not speaking about every single woman, but rather as a general. Most women drink a lot of coffee and usually smoke, causing their frames to be small and petite in number, but they are immersed in a stressful environment. The smoking and excessive coffee drinking eventually begins to have a toll on the body. So, while they be skinny, they are not fit. I took it upon myself to simply observe the thin women on the street. I will not say all, but a good majority of them are not fit. Meaning, they are not toned, their bodies are not trim, and it shows they do not lead a healthy and active lifestyle. The little meat on their bones jiggles, expressing that they engage in little physical exercise. At first, I was very angry and envious. What do you mean that they barely work out and look like little twigs and here I am, working 3-4 times a week in the gym and I'm still not thin? Then, the little lightbulb in my head flashed. I have to accept that I have a specific body shape that cannot be altered (nor do I want to), but if I want to look the best that I can be, then I should do something about it. I constantly looked at pictures on Pinterest with girls that had a significantly smaller frame than I. I could grumble under my breath how I desired to look like that. However, when I was at the gym, I stuck to cardio, thinking the calories would be burned and the weight would drop. Alas, that didn't prove very successful. Especially with the wave of women that entered my sights and seeing their frames, I was motivated to change things up. However, with no gym and a small apartment proved rather difficult to begin an intense regime. Fortunately, my sister packed the <i>Insanity </i>workout regime. Thus began the journey to push my body as far as it can, knowing that I can be better. I can do better, I can push harder, and I can sweat for longer. I can made tremendous improvements; as encouraging as the progress has been, I still have a little more to go. My goal is losing 15 pounds so I can be truly satisfied with my weight loss. I've made quite a dent, but I will not stop until it's reached. I've noticed that as my tops and pants get looser and looser, I am encouraged by how I look. Moreover, I am falling in love with how I look.<br />
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2. As a result of working out hardcore, I can now wear clothes I've always wanted to wear but couldn't. The moment when I put that top on and I fit into (and it's loose!) was a beautiful moment. But it's not merely wearing clothes I've wanted to wear. My confidence grew stronger, prompting me to wear more prints and bold prints. I like the cool, classic, and neutral vide Western Europe has, while Eastern Europe is concerned with bright colors, prints, and flowy details. Wearing more pops of color and purchasing more garments with prints on them tell me that I am secure in my body. But, honestly, it's more about the prints and how it looks on me. Light colors contrast my dark tan and prints fall nicely on my frame. The clothing market sells different pieces that I would never find back home, pushing me to step out of my comfort zone, fashion wise. While I lean towards the classic and cool style, I find that prints are slowly becoming part of my wardrobe.<br />
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3. In conjunction with my burgeoning wardrobe and working out, I am more excited to wear them on the streets. I need to pause right here and point that the men in Romania <i>stare. </i>I can gotten more angry and furious at the incessant staring than anything else in this country. I'd be walking in shorts, maxi skirt, or a dress, and yet, they still feel that I am a piece of meat. It really bothered me at first, but at this point, my perspective is if they're going to look (since it is inevitable), I should feel flattered that they are glancing at something dressed in appropriate clothing, flatters my shape, and shows that classy doesn't mean outdated. The girls here expose a lot of skin and in contrast, I do not like expose an excessive amount of skin (as that is my personal preference). So the difference of clothing choices also inevitably sets me apart, and I have accepted that. But at the same time, that also says something flattering regarding how I look, my shape, and how I'm dressed, and as much as I find the attention annoying, I take it as a complement (most of the time).<br />
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<br />ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-34386864680286952002013-07-21T18:44:00.000-04:002013-07-21T18:44:47.662-04:00Hello, I am a Dreamer <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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With the summer gradually coming to a close and the new school year approaching, I am painfully aware of how fragile time is. In theory, any allotted time seems to be longer than it is, until it's over. Then, it merely becomes memories. As a result, I do not want to live solely on past memories, stories and tales that happened once upon a time ago. A lifetime should not be simply past tales and experiences, but rather something that a person continually experiences. Could that be a factor why it is encouraged to travel often? Traveling is not only an opportunity to see new things, try different and foreign foods, and lay eyes on unprecedented sights. Rather, it is adjusting to a different way of life, indulge in classic foods that is quintessential for the geographical location, and meet new people that make that experience that much more rich. I am very a dreamer. I dream about the things I aspire to accomplish, the places I aspire to see, and the people I will eventually meet that will leave a lasting impression on my life. A mark that truly cannot be erased. At the same time, I am also extremely pragmatic; I am very much a list person. I prioritize by making lists and feeling the immense satisfaction by crossing the line.<br />
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This precious time I have spent in Europe has not only taught extremely valuable lessons, but also has shown me the impact a location can have on a person. The geographical locations prompts people to shift perspectives in such a way that it would have otherwise not occurred in a more comfortable and familiar setting. Seeing places is not for the sole purpose of perceiving new sights, but rather how the place and life in that location can change you for the better. With this new mindset in full motion, I have contemplated my aspirations, my goals, and whatnot, but ultimately, the places I wish to visit. I eventually want to visit the four corners of the world, but there are particular places that have a special place in my heart. Planning ahead seems to work well for me, so, with this list being published, I am essentially saying I am working to make this dream come alive. I want to be able to say that I have truly lived and done the things I wanted to do. I have been the places I wanted to see. Without further ado, these 5 locations are the top of my list of places to see. Now, before I go on, I must mention that I have made a-list-of-places-I-want-to-travel post. However, this was done after a traveling high and an incessant need to buy traveling books without rationing my thoughts beforehand. In succinct prose, I was merely expressing my desire in an unorganized, jumbled fashion. I have this dream to see these places, and by God's provision, they <i>will </i>happen.<br />
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1. Paris<br />
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If there is one place that I want to visit, Paris is it. The culture, the way of life, the <i>joie de vivre, </i>the cafes, the music, the sights, <i style="font-weight: bold;">just everything. </i>I plan on wearing my beret, sipping coffee in a quaint French cafe, indulge in French cuisine, <i>parle Francais</i>, take outrageously tourist-y photos of the Eiffel Tower, visit the Louvre, walk down the Seine, ride a bike while buying a baguette, and listen to the deliciously sensuous French conversations. I plan on being cliche French-y in the City of Lights.<br />
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2. Italy<br />
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<i>Ciao Bella! </i>Italy has always been a country I've loved visiting, with seeing Venice last year, I've just been fascinated. Starting in Florence and making my way to Rome, then hit the Amalfi Coast, Cinque Terre, and Capri. Go all out and see Tuscany too, the Italian winery. Eat baked focaccia bread with olive oil and fresh mozzarella cheese with a small glass of red wine. </div>
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3. Zakynthos, Greece </div>
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A good friend of mine visited Zakynthos for a much needed vacation and after lusting over her pictures, I told myself that I would eventually go there myself. The crystal blue waters, the lavish scenery, the fact that I am in Greece and taking in the Greek culture. The magnificent turquoise, cobalt, and azure hues, and pearlescent whites, and the minty green infused with the bright blues. This is definitely a dream location for me, since it appears to one of those places that many people desire to go. </div>
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4. Australia </div>
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Again, one of those locations that will be worth mentioning to people once it's actually happening, but until then, dream and aspire to visit Sydney, the Gold Coast, Surfer's Paradise, Melbourne, and other marvellous locations worth exploring. A truly exotic experience, it will be (once it happens and it will) one of the tales that I will enjoy sharing. The culture, the foods, the way of life. It will be completely unlike any other place I will visit. </div>
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5. Spain</div>
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I would elaborate to explain the reason to visit Spain, but I feel that would be redundant. Spain is a land where culture is infused with the way of life and it clearly shows with its vibrant, bold colors. It is enchanting, full of life, and exotic. All of these adjectives have been used all without even stepping foot in the country. I can only imagine the extensive use of adjectives once I see Espana. </div>
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All in all, I realize that these dreams to visit such places requires work, effort, and dedication. At the same times, the dreams and aspirations that require hard work are often the most meaningful and fulfilling. I cannot wait until I explore these aforementioned locations and look back on the moment when I first conceived to start planning for it. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, but work and exploration makes for a fulfilling life. </div>
ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-91738954418435716962013-07-06T19:16:00.000-04:002013-07-06T19:29:51.554-04:00A Transpiring Between Two Lovers, Part VI<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">6. Mamihlapinatapai </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The look shared by two people desiring to initiate something, but both are reluctant to start. Glassy eyes exchanging a willing yet timid look. Both wanting the same thing yet neither are willing to make the first step. You sit and wait and ponder whether the other person is thinking about you, whether the person is interested in you, and whether the individual will even say something. It is a common feeling yet it is one that is tied with so memories, experiences, and tales. But there is nothing as lovely as looking back when things took flight. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Does he even like me? Does he think about me? I try to ask myself this as unbiased as possible, and I always come to the same answer: I just don't know anymore. I keep replaying the same scene over and over and over again, attempting to decipher any hidden emotions or meaning behind his words. I keep remember the time we met, how he smiled at me, how he laughed, how his eyes flicked, and the kind way he spoke to me. The memory is as vivid as though it was occurring at the present time. It was at a school event, in December, and I recall seeing him from the corner of my eye. There wasn't anything particularly eye-catching about him except for the fact that I remember his face from running into him a couple of times on campus. I recognize his face and I can recall his voice instantly. The energetic pitch he uses when he explains something he is passionate about, the kind and compassionate tone he has when he is talking and listening to someone, and the overall jubilant voice he has that is pleasant to the ears. I have begun to memorize his features, so to speak, for some particular reason. I would recall certain things about him that I wouldn't have otherwise thought important. Suddenly, I would remember seeing him on campus and being happy for the rest of the day. I didn't even realize the road I was going on until my roommate mentioned my habit of mentioning his name. When she coyly teased me about my affection towards him. On that particular December night, though, I can remember how my heart began racing at the very sight of him, when my cheeks began to fluster when I saw him coming in my direction, and inherently appearing approachable. He continued walking in my direction and I coyly gauged his eyesight, my heart nearly beating out of my chest, wondering if he was ever going to notice me. When he finally looked at me, his eyes locked on my frame, his shoulders perking at the sight of me. A slow smile crawled on his lips as I recognized his deliberate slowing down of pace while walking in my direction. He continued in my direction, my eyes refusing to falter. When he was within close eye sight, I saw his anxiety rising, slightly frightened and slightly elated, and the mixture of expressions in his eyes. I believe at this time I began to grin, although I cannot recall accurately since I was focused on the fact that he was walking towards me, hopefully wanting to talk to me. (Although, I've been told that I couldn't stop beaming.) He finally stopped walking and with his pearlescent teeth beaming at me with a low husky, "Hi." I tossed him an equally flirtatious greeting. I wish I could remember what we discussed; the main thing that I remember is that we talked for a good while. I can easily recall how he smiled warmly at me whenever I spoke, how he laughed heartily whenever I mentioning anything remotely funny, and how his eyes would remain on me the entire time we were together. His eyes never left mine and there was such a security in that; in knowing that he was fully paying attention. When the night came to a close and it was time to bid each other adieu, my stomach dropped and I could sense myself growing weary of his departure. He gave me such a warm and assuring smile that I immediately melted. He told me that this would certainly not be the first and only time we would see each other. I secretly hoped that would turn out to be true. I continued replaying this scene in my mind, searching for clues that would indicate whether or not he harbored any affection towards me. I kept asking myself why he would act so warm, so intentional, so interested if he wasn't. I rattled my brain for any other possibility that could explain his behavior towards me. More than that, I wanted to know if he liked me, if he knew just how much I wanted to be with him. Leaving myself with these thoughts for an extended period of time, I scolded myself for going down such avenues. It is possible that his behavior is linked to many things, none of them including affection and interest towards me. Slightly defeated and sad, I decided to take my mind of things with a film. Just as I was about to pick a cheesy romantic comedy, I heard the doorbell ring. That's strange, I thought, I wasn't expecting anyone and my roommate is out of town. I opened to the door and to my astonishment, he was standing in front of me, his face flustered. He seemed to be out of breath and appeared to be excited and anxious in a perplexing mixture. He gazed directly at me, his eyes piercing my soul. I attempted to think of all reasons as to why he was standing at the door, but none could prepare what he was about to say. "I like you. I really like you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you. You haven't escaped my thoughts at all. If I'm awake or asleep, you're in mind and I'm asking you to rid me of this. Will you be my girlfriend?" My automatic response was yes. Finally. This is what I have been waiting for. </i></span><br />
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-25880690885194589392013-07-04T17:51:00.001-04:002013-07-04T17:51:14.789-04:00Prague <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is perhaps the first time that we've actually starting travelling and exploring the nearby countries and cities. It was decided on a whim that we should go out and get out of the country. Being in one place for a particular time usually leaves a frustrating effect on me, especially after knowing that so many beautiful cities are within reach and we were doing absolutely nothing about it. So, a little bit before eating lunch, I casually asked whether or not I could propose a proposition. I requested if we could go somewhere for the weekend. In Europe, it is vastly popular to go somewhere for the weekend, especially with the distances relatively small. The questions came rolling: Where can we go? How will Esther (my youngest sister) handle it? And so on and so forth. Can we go to Budapest? ("No, it's too early to go".) Can we go somewhere in Austria? ("No, the drive is a little far and we want to stay relatively close".) Do you want to go somewhere in Romania? The response was infinitely unanimous: "NO! WE WANT TO GO SOMEWHERE THAT IS NOT IN ROMANIA!" The truth was that we wanted to see something that was not in Romania (as that was the point of the trip). It was not that we don't enjoy Romania; we simply wanted to see different sights. </div>
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Thus, the next couple of hours, we began packing and the next morning, we were on the road en route for Prague. Being in a car for 8 hours straight has become somewhat the norm for us, since we have been on the road since we've come to Europe, whether driving there or here. With small breaks in Hungary and Slovakia (since we had to past through Bratislava), it was interesting seeing how utterly different the scenery, the people, and the progression appeared in Romania, Hungary, and now Czech Republic. Driving through 3 different countries and observing 3 different cultures and a way of life. It was mind boggling yet particularly fascinating all at the same time. For more reasons that I am at liberty to say, this weekend getaway was truly a much needed breath of fresh air. When we arrived at the apartment we were staying at, the only thing we wanted to do was stretch our legs after a long haul in the car with a small child and limited space. Relaxing and letting our feet breath before a long day of walking through Prague. </div>
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We first started walking towards Rock Castle, or Vysehrad, strolling along the long fortress and enjoying a scenic view of one of the many faces of Prague. With lush colors and vibrant buildings, it was truly a sight to behold. Anywhere you looked, bright pops of colors on the buildings, rivers, and bridges became ubiquitous in addition to being a staple of the city. Once we strolled the entire line of the fortress, we came across a lovely cathedral with beautiful ornate detailing and opulent Gothic architecture, permitting us a perfect opportunity to stop and take a breather. However, it was at this time that Esther, my youngest sister, wanted an ice cream (one of many). Thus, we relaxed while she ate to her heart's content. It just so happened that the cafe vis-a-vis of the cathedral had the best latte I have ever tasted in my entire life. Segafredo, you are the coffee empire I will devote to. It was so foamy, and tasty, and aromatic, and all in all, very flavored. I have also realized, in this slight tangent, that I have become a coffee drinker due to the fact that the coffee here tastes <i>delicious. </i>I simply may just continue drinking as much coffee as I can while I remain in Europe before I return to bland, overly flavored coffee that has no taste (no offence...). It was also in that moment that I was drinking my latte that I realized the vast differences between North American and European culture. But that may be a different post for a later time...<br />
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After our brief coffee, ice cream, and sparkling beverage break, we set out towards Prague Castle, one of the famous sights and attractions of the city. While making our way towards the Castle, we crossed one of the bridges, which strangely reminded me of the Seine, in Paris (a city I have not visited, <i style="font-weight: bold;">yet</i>). With the Danube flowing through Prague, it was fascinating crossing from one area of the city into the old city. After crossing the bridge, we came across a small park while stumbling into the <i>Before I Die...</i> wall, where visitors, tourists, and residents alike can write their bucket list, their ultimate wish they aspire to accomplish before they die. I decided to add a wish to the long list of aspirations on the wall. The feeling of writing something that people all over the world have written is a special feeling. It is akin to participating in something much bigger than myself, including myself in the large scheme of things. And, all in all, it felt pretty darn cool. Afterwards, we ventured towards Old Prague Square, part of the old town section of town. It was also at this particular time that we stumbled into hoards and <i>hoards </i>of tourists. They were nowhere near the other places we've been to up to this point. It was like they just sprung out of nowhere. All of a sudden, Americans, English, and Asian tourists decided to overwhelm the old Prague Square, letting everyone know with their flip-flops and Nikon cameras slung around their neck that they are most definitely tourists. I mean, I am a tourist, but I like to think of these moments as a <i>WWAHD? </i>What would Audrey Hepburn wear? What would she wear whilst she is exploring and touring Prague? Before this point, it was relatively quiet, with the exception of the impromptu concert on the bridge, with citizens of Prague going about their day. The moment we hit Old Prague Square, there was a sudden burst of energy, volume, and people. After getting over the sudden wave of people, I resumed admiring the city and location. It was lovely, with its antiquated architecture, bright yet muted colors, and long lines of cobble streets. We walked a bit around the square, before realizing that the famous castle was over yonder. Trudging up the steep hill, the narrow streets, and stone walls, we arrived at the top of the hill with a spectacular view. Spanning into a beautiful panorama, the sensation was akin to being a movie, with the lens panning on me and then fading out into the background, capturing the picturesque background. Another cool thing is that a couple recently got married and the bride and groom decided to take their wedding photography at the Prague Castle. Needless to say, they will have very enviable wedding pictures. Entering the castle leads to St. Vitus Cathedral, an old Gothic style cathedral that bears great resemblance to Notre Dame in Paris. Love, beautifully old and opulent, and profound detail makes it so grand and old yet remarkably gorgeous. <br />
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At this point during the day, we have probably walked near 8 km and have been on our feet for 6 hours walking throughout the city and on hills. Once we finished exploring Prague Castle and crossed over the famous and renowned Charles Bridge, we had stepped into Prague Square, where it consisted of many outside terraces, cafes, and excitement. There was movement everywhere; people were constantly moving, there were citizens playing some sort of instrument (electronic piano, cello, jazz bass, and some sort of banjo), and hippies blowing bubbles with small children (yes, you read that right). We also saw the Astronomical Clock, an attraction in Prague without even realizing it. I was taking a picture of a cool tower and building after realizing that the brochure I read in the morning mentioned the Astronomical Clock. The city square is phenomenal; there is so much energy and life to this city. However, with intense pain in our feet in addition to my father holstering my youngest sister on his shoulder since lunchtime, we were all tired. But we were on a mission: to get to C&A (a popular chain department store in Europe). Venturing through the streets grumpy and in pain, we <i>finally </i>reached our destination, after inquiring many retail workers who did not speak English and we didn't speak Czech. Unbeknownst to us, we happened to enter a massive mall in the middle of Prague, called Palladium. Even though we were in tremendous pain from walking, we still managed to go shopping. <i>Women. </i>After grabbing a couple (or a couple of more) fashion pieces from Prague, it was imperative, nay, <i>necessary</i>, that we should sit down and relax. That moment when you sit down after a long day of walking...<i>sigh. </i>We sprinted to nearest cafe to sit down. Fortunately (or is this everywhere in Europe), we sat at a delicious patisserie, with yummy tortes, cakes, and pastries. Munching on a scrumptious lemon tort and drink a 7Up, I realized that I must have been living through a movie. Spending the whole day exploring the city and the sights and attractions then afterward doing a little shopping and taking a little pastry and beverage break seemed like the perfect day. In addition to seeing beautiful sights, it was absolutely spectacular. Prague is an absolutely remarkable and beautiful city that compels me to feel guilty for having excessive uses of the word beautiful, but really, there are not many words that fully capture the essence of the city other than beautiful, energetic, and lovely. I would visit Prague again over and over and over again. </div>
ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-51989673653710646172013-06-22T16:50:00.003-04:002013-06-22T16:50:45.301-04:00A Transpiring Between Two Lovers, Part V <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">5. Chilly Memories </span></span><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">When you look back in time, you often recall memories that you desire to live it out vicariously a thousand times more. The emotions are that much more visceral, the sensations are just as palpable, and the gazes are just as intense. You still remember how you felt, what you sensed, how you looked at him, and stolen glances exchanged in secret. The recollection is so wonderful that you just want to relive over and over again.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Today was the day of the Winter Carnival. The university puts on this lavish carnival of sorts to celebrate the winter equinox. There are games with prizes, contents, hoards of food, but most importantly, an opulent dance. It is the most famous dance of the year because it is also the most expensive production. The place is decorated with expensive decorations and serves delicious hors d'oeuvres, it is usually lit up to evoke a magical winter night, and everyone dresses up in beautiful long gowns and handsome suits. This is the event the ladies have been waiting all year for and the chance for the guys to ask out that particular girl. Needless to say, it is truly a big deal. I was particularly excited since I actually had a reason to go and decided to get glammed up with hair, makeup, and shoes. I really didn't know what to expect, what I was going to do, or even what the protocol was. I was just so excited to go with the one person I desired to ask me. And he did. </i></span></div>
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<i>"So, are you excited to go?" my roommate asked me. I tossed her a strange look that implied that I was truly indeed excited and happy to go, but before I could, there was a knock at the door. My eyes quickly flashed to the door and this unexpected queasiness overwhelmed me. I was struck with a mixture of many emotions: happiness, excitement, contentment, and anxiousness. I didn't know how to react to this sudden rise of sentiment, so I remained in my tracks, frozen, immobile, unable to move. </i></div>
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<i>My roommate smiled to herself once she recognized my internal qualm and went to the door. Hearing her voice rise in excitement told me that he had arrived, my date was standing at the door, waiting for me. I could hear muffled chatter in the foyer followed by an excited exclamation. I was curious to find out what this was about, so I made my way to the foyer, facing him for the first time in days. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous. I talked to him a couple of days ago. We chatted about pizza, Thailand, and upcoming exams. It was nonchalant, relaxed, and pleasant. Right now, however, I was suddenly nervous to face him in my formal attire, with my hair done, and my natural beauty enhanced by cosmetics. </i></div>
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<i>The moment we locked gazes, the air in his lungs escaped, his eyes were intense, and he was unable to move. He smoothed a strand of hair and cleared his throat. He looked at me with an unreadable expression, his eyes warm and inviting, and with a wide grin, he said, "You look absolutely beautiful."</i></div>
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<i>I could feel the temperature in my cheeks rising as he uttered those words. I barely mustered the words to reply. I still felt his gaze on me. "Here," he said, extending his arm towards me, "this is for you." I moved closer towards him and the object became more clear. It was a a clip with fake pearls and an ornate flower. I was puzzled and he registered my thought when I looked at him. "Corsets are so cliche," he said to me, slightly exasperated at the cheesiness of the gesture. "So, I got you a flower pin instead." "How did you know that it matched my dress?" I asked him, a smirk slowly building. His cheeks turned beet red. "I, um...I asked your roommate." I gently squeezed his arm, touched by his thoughtfulness. With a slightly jittery hand (at least to my perceptive observation), he placed the pin in my hair and kept his unwavering gaze on my face. He ran his finger down my cheek. With a warm expression in his eyes and his eyes locking with mine, this was a moment I didn't want to end. I just wanted to stay like this forever, him looking at me with such a warm and affectionate gaze. It took me a moment to recognize that I barely observed his attire. In a fitted suit with a striped cravat, nice Italian leather shoes, and a pin similar to mine placed above his pocket, it was quite clear that he was visually appealing. With his tall stature and his suit highlighting his lean body, it was difficult to remind myself that I was accompanying him, that he's my date. He was dressed so formally, so nicely. Returning my gaze to him, he whispered huskily, "I can't believe how beautiful my date is." I batted my eyelashes at the unexpected compliment and sensed a grin forming from the corners of my lips. I said the same to him. </i></div>
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<i>But in that moment, I felt something rising, something much bigger than myself, than us, than this particular night. </i></div>
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<i>"I am so glad you're mine."</i></div>
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<i>"I am so glad to be yours," I said to him, looking directly in his warm and compassionate eyes. </i></div>
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-82788119531314891722013-06-10T15:40:00.000-04:002013-06-10T15:40:50.422-04:00Summer Heat <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's warm and perhaps the one difficult thing with anyone who is cultivating a particular sense of style is adjusting to the unbearable summer heat. It is not satisfying to put on a pair of short and a top and hop out the door. <i>Oh no. </i>Should these shorts and top match the aforementioned particular fashion style, then it must also follow a similar trend in shoes, accessories, and even makeup. However, since I prefer not to prattle on about senseless matters, this is not a post about summer weather and the plight of accessorizing clothes in the midst of an outside inferno. This is about fashion in the summer.</div>
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It goes without saying but fashion is different all around the globe. Summer fashion differs between Los Angeles and Seoul. Likewise, the fashion is different between Europe and North America. Since I am spending my summer abroad in Europe, I have used my perception and observation skills to its best use: detecting trends in Europe. Given, this is something I would have done naturally, but I deliberately want to perceive cultural differences. After all, it is these striking differences that distinguish one culture from another and another why bloggers and fashionistas lust after designers in Europe and elsewhere. </div>
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One of my favorite thing about European fashion is its simplicity. They are very fuss-free. There are two ends of the spectrum: simple, minimalist, and classique, whereas the other end is the opulent prints, mixing fabrics, daring trends, and lavish details all done tastefully. They are all about doing things well, even in clothes and style. I have seen so many people wear trench coats hitting right above the knee, especially with the weather being rather chilly when I first arrived. Yet, what I've noticed is that the style is vastly different (at least to me) between one country to the next.</div>
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In Germany, the style is very classic and fitted. Men and women wear fitted leather jackets, fitted jeans or trousers, a simple sweater underneath, sneakers, flats, flat ankle boots, or a pair of heels, with sunglasses and a bag, usually a satchel or a leather tote. Again, this is what I perceived from the clothing in sale in Munich airport, the men and women who strolled in the airport, and the people in the town we stayed at. They are very much about comfort and style while still appearing very chic. They are lean, stylish, and very unpretentious in their style. I really enjoy gauging German street style because of the simple coolness they emulate. Given, that is not everyone as a whole, but this is the look they give off from the people that I've noticed and they get high marks with me. In Vienna, Austria, it was a similar yet dissimilar story. It is evident that is a city that has a vibrant culture scene. It is also evident that it has a tourist and historic center, since many men and women who strolled downtown Vienna wore very simple and chic clothing. I would see women in a simple white blouse with meager detailing, skinny jeans or black fitted pants, and heels or classic flats a la Ferragamo with a trench coat and a messenger tote or some other professional bag, such as Louis Vuitton. There were so many women that I wish I could stop and ask to take their picture of their outfit. The more I thought about it, the more creepy it sounded, so I wager I would simply admire their outfit from afar and hope I would remember it later. The vibe I got while walking through Vienna is a very professional and trendy vibe, an interesting combination between businesslike professional and Vogue and Elle editorials. It was marvelous. So many women in muted pastels and neutrals with pops of vibrant colors and prints. (The men, on the other hand, are always so wonderfully dressed. They look as if they appear out of a brand advertisement. With perfectly coifed hair, nice shoes, fitted tailored pants and blazer and possibly a jacket as well, it was not difficult to admire mens fashion style in Vienna. I may elaborate on this in a different post in the near future, but it's not definite yet.) In Romania, the women are all about bright colors, fun prints, and modern simplicity. I would equate the style as a vintage-y hipster look, with maxi skirts, bralets, fun heels, and an American vibe. The women don't stick with one certain style; they mix it up when they head out in town, which is something I admire about Romanian street style. I will be walking down the same route in downtown Oradea two different days and I will see two different types of style. </div>
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Before leaving back for North America, I hope that my style will emulate some of the picture I've compiled that captured the street style I've seen during my time in Europe (so far). </div>
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<br />ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-79434570333356498152013-06-05T13:55:00.000-04:002013-06-05T13:55:18.382-04:00Cafe Culture <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome to Europe, where the coffee is stronger, where cafes are ubiquitous, and the fashion is more desirable. I've always had a passionate fascination with European culture when I visited the continent six years ago. I was so struck at the vast differences about how the other half of the world lives that its effect still affects me. Perhaps one of the interesting things and the one thing I wish I could translate back to North America is the profound ubiquity of the cafe.<br />
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Cafes are not merely just a table at a bistro, bakery, coffee shop, or sandwich shop where you can sit and drink and eat and talk. No, my dear readers. It is a lifestyle. Most bistros have terraces, where you can eat, drink, and feast outside. They are seen all throughout Europe and perhaps one of the most iconic images tourists conjure when the continent comes up in conversation. It is a way of life, a simple lifestyle in which everyone stops at a cafe and simply talks. Cafes are to Europe as malls are to America. Near lunch hour, work stops and everyone steps outside and enjoys a coffee break with a croissant or a small pastry.<br />
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I like to believe that every chair, every table, every section has a story to tell. Perhaps a lost love is reunited with an affectionate embrace, old friends discuss past events with old boyfriends, a husband and wife enjoy a tender moment, and two work colleagues enjoy a nice break that could easily be the start of something fantastic. There is such an air of mystery and playfulness to cafes and yet, a profound connection, as a simple chair or table can become the image of a cherished memory.<br />
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The sound of croissants breaking, the clinking of cups on plates, the sipping of hot coffee, and the crinkling of bags that contain delicious pastries are the sounds that one hears when walking down any given street. The smells of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked pastries fills the street. Taking a seat in any cafe is participating in daily life in Europe. That is something I can definitely get used to.<br />
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-1203930361984067032013-06-04T11:04:00.000-04:002013-06-04T11:04:14.460-04:00Vienna <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Vienna, Austria is such an enchanting city. It is filled with stories, humor, mystery, and culture. Every where you turn, every where you look, and every where you touch tells a story. There is so much life and vivacity in this beautifully historic city that I would return every year, simply to take part of a magical experience. Perhaps that is the best way to describe exploring Vienna--magical. The city is rich with history, what with Freud, Maria Theresa, and Princess Cissi, so one can only imagine what previous historical figures must have done in their leisure and if they viewed Vienna as enchanting as tourists and frequent visitors do. This visitor certainly was mystified and left wanting more.</div>
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The day began with riding the subway from the city to Schonbrunn, the lavish Palace where Maria Theresa lived. The palace is colossal with a bright yellow hue and a spacious entryway. My mind immediately ventured to the possible parties Theresa and her husband, Franz Joseph threw. The impeccable lights, entertainment, and scandal that must have ensued at such a party. The partygoers must have lusted to receive an invitation to Maria and Franz's parties. With tours to explore the opulent and extravagant rooms of the Palace lasting 2-3 hours, it would have been tiresome to entertain a 4-year-old, especially when she's bored and she's required to keep quiet. My sister has a set of lungs and she's not afraid to show. Thus, the tour guide probably would have shot her the evil eye while my mother or father set out to entertain her somehow. The backyard is just as spectacular, with an immense garden with roses, gardenias, and other vibrantly colored foliages. And that's just one side of the backyard, so to speak. A tasteful treat was that wedding photography was taking place at the time. Under a gazebo in the middle of the flower garden was a beautiful bride dressed in white perched meticulously on the marble floor while her groom gazes lovingly at his bride. Walking farther along is a backyard with multiple statues and an ornate middle section. Another cool fact is that the night before was a benefit event hosted by Elton John. That's pretty cool if I do say so myself. The setup was not taken done yet, so there was still a stage with lights and seating. Glancing above the setup is a steep hill with a huge monument--the Gloriette--at the hop of the hill. Once I reached the top of the hill, a beautiful view of Vienna. As far as the eye can see if the Schonbrunn in the foreground and all of Vienna in the background. It is <i>such </i>a spectacular view. The walk down is a quiet, relaxing troll down a shaded pathway. Again, my imagination wondered to how many clandestine meetings occurred, with secret lovers hiding away from the responsibility and expectations of everyday life. Clearly, visiting Schonbrunn Palace wasn't merely just walking through an era in history or admiring the architecture. It was an <i>experience. </i></div>
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Taking the subway back to downtown Vienna led to a pastry shop in the subway station just across the Vienna Opera House. Filled with croissants, dark chocolate filled croissants, cheese puffs, and a variety of hot sandwiches, the air was a mixture of tire and moist sweets baked during multiple times during the day. Climbing out of the subway station with bags filled with hot pastries, we took a brief break vis-a-vis the Opera House. From that point, we began venturing down the streets in downtown Vienna. Somehow, we stumbled upon the Hofburg Palace, the birthplace of Marie Antoinette. Situated in the middle of old Vienna, a grand Palace of grandeur and opulence, the face of official business, Hofburg emulates more of an official and political face of Viennese royalty. Walking through the entryway of the Hofburg Palace, we come across Roman walls. Then, we ventured through the corridors of downtown Vienna.</div>
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Downtown Vienna is a mixture of contemporary with luscious archaic. There are high-end designer brand houses juxtaposed with old architecture. H&M is placed in an old weathered building with vivid yet tarnished red, close to a rust hue, whereas Zara is housed in a modern and futuristic building. The blend of old and new is magical. Along with eating a delicious ice cream in the middle of town square, with a man playing the saxophone while another talented individual was playing the accordion near the fountain close to St. Stephen's Cathedral. Pausing to admire the Gothic style of St. Stephen's Cathedral, we dined for dinner at a classic stand in downtown Vienna and had the speciality known for its city--Viennese sausages. While feasting on the sausages, we enjoy the grandiose church while noticing a children's carousel, finding the juxtaposition fascinating. As we were making our way back to take the metro, taking in one last glance around the many building, statues, fountains, and delicacies of Vienna, one last surprise awaited us. A group of teenagers and young adults danced in the middle of the square, with curious individuals crowding around the dancers, having to find that they are raising money for UNICEF. What a delightful thing to do. From then, with the metro stop directly in front of the Vienna Opera House, I took in the last sights and sounds of Vienna before returning to the apartment. Needless to say, I plan on returning again. Very, very quickly. </div>
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-50205007871651439752013-06-01T11:05:00.000-04:002013-06-01T11:05:41.747-04:00Neuschwanstein Castle <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had the privilege of visiting Neuschwanstein Castle in Neuschwangau in the Bavarian region in Germany. In the beginning, I was not aware of where we were going. All I knew is that we were going somewhere renowned, it is famous, and it is a surprise. Many possibilities and probable answers surged through my mind, but it came empty. I really had no idea where we were going. Needless to say, it was truly a pleasant surprise.</div>
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This castle was built for Ludwig II, in Bavaria, a shy and introverted king who wanted a place of solace where he would retreat in the 19th century. The king regrettably did not rule for long since he died relatively shortly after building commenced. Only a handful of rooms were finished, along with a lavish throne room, bedroom, modern kitchen (for the 1800s, at least). The rooms were filled with opulent Renaissance era artwork all on the walls. The artwork was inspired by Richard Wagner's pieces, the favorite being the tale of Tristan Isolde. Since photography and filming was prohibited in the castle, with the entire castle an original work and not recreated to maintain longitivtiy, they wanted to preserve the beauty of the castle. </div>
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To get to the castle, it is approximately a 30 minute walk up steep hills to reach the castle's entrance. On the particular day we visited this place, it happened to be 2 degrees. That's 34 degrees Fahrenheit. At the end of May. With a light drizzle coming down, we began to climb the hill. By the time we reached the top, it started to snow 10 minutes later. With lush greenery spreading far beyond the horizon, the snow-tipped trees along the tree line with the snow falling down softly at a high elevation created an eerily calm and tranquil scene, so beautiful and serene, it almost didn't seem real. </div>
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A cute and endearing feature of this expedition is that my youngest sister though that she was on an adventure rescuing Rapunzel from Mother Gothel. The reason for this is that Neuschwanstein Castle is actually where Walt Disney drew inspiration to build upon his entire empire. The castle bares similarities to Cinderella's castle at one angle and the Beast's castle in the <i>Beauty and the Beast </i>at another angle. It is sometimes called the Original Disney Castle. While one is the face of an empire, of a tycoon, of entire childhoods, the other is filled with profound history and a sad story. I'm glad to say I have visited both.<br />
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-27689675000278142732013-05-18T20:58:00.000-04:002013-05-18T20:59:08.652-04:00Cannes Fashion Report<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The annual Cannes Film Festival is always a time where the film actresses and actors are rounded up to present usually indie and somewhat perplexing films. However, the red carpet fashion is usually unbelievably lush. With soft pastels, fine details, and a lovely backdrop, it comes to no surprise that it is one of the few festivals I gauge zealously. This year, I was blown away by the cascade of dresses I would lust to have in closet and to appear that flawless in front of the paparazzi, film, and fashion world. In no particular order, these are a few that stood out to me. </div>
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1. Lana Del Rey</div>
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The black and white lace-y detail on this gown is beautiful. This dress is a statement in and of itself, thus not needing much accessories to accentuate the opulence this gown gives. Beautiful neckline, beautiful train; this gown is perfection.</div>
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2. Jennifer Lawrence</div>
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Not only is she unbelievably funny with a flawless body, she knows how to please the red carpet. This black and white peplum column gown is no exception. With simple detail, this dress needs no further fluffing. Accentuating her shape nicely, it flatters her svelte body, with the peplum defining her tiny waist. </div>
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3. Isla Fisher</div>
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The bold color against her skin and hair color makes an unlikely but flattering combination, one that is highly pleasing to the eyes. It also adds a mysterious sultriness and come-hither effect. </div>
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4. Fan Bing Bing</div>
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I cannot wear yellow and usually a yellow dress produces a washing out effect on the wearer, but this is not the case. The dress is so lovely and light yellow hue results in such a flattering effect that I am left in awe. I want that dress (albeit in a different color, perchance). </div>
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5. Emma Watson </div>
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Everything she wore was perfect. Refraining from using too many words, let's just say that Emma's closet is one I certainly wouldn't mind raiding. </div>
ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-13065921935568660282013-05-11T17:09:00.000-04:002013-05-11T17:10:17.894-04:00Bibliophilia <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Books. There is something truly enchanting about them. How they transport you to a different world, different era, different climate, different culture, and different place. They have a magical element in which you open the pages of a book and suddenly, you are there, engulfed in the setting, surrounded by its characters, breathing in their air, feeling the wind as it brushes across their faces, witnessing secret liaisons between lovers, and noticing small yet visceral details that makes it all the more real. Perhaps the method in which the author utilized his words or how the sentence flowed produced the real scenery in one's mind. </div>
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I'm a self-professed bibliophile. I truly enjoy reading books for pleasure. I could spend hours in a book store scouring for the perfect read or glancing through another period drama, finding an alliance with a cabby driver or seeking counsel from a wiser sister in 19th century England. I love being transported to different places and exploring and interacting with different characters. To understand where I'm coming from, when I read, it isn't just a superfluous reading a book. Rather, it is an experience. I experience the book, complete with mourning the loss of a character, sensing the emotional turmoil the protagonist feels, and feeling lost when the book ends. It may sound silly, but after finishing a novel, I have to watch a movie or distract myself from the perilous gains and losses I've experienced from a reading a book since I feel connected with that plot, character, and morale. Thus, with the explosion of leisure time I've gained with the school year finished, I've found myself with the ample time to read again. For pleasure. No more reading through endless chapters on Christian history or studying cognitive psychology. Finally. I can read about a Jewess's escapade to 1930s Britain or exploring Jane Eyre's world. I no longer have to view my books from my desk with a taunting air and resist the urge to put everything aside because of school. <i>I can read again. </i>Whatever I want, whether it's rereading <i>The Great Gatsby </i>or finally getting the chance to finish <i>Emma</i>, I can resort back to one of my original amours: reading. And with three months of free time, I plan to read the following books:</div>
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1. <i>The House at Tyneford </i>by Natalie Solomons</div>
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2. <i>Emma </i>by Jane Austen</div>
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3. <i>Jane Eyre </i>by Charlotte Bronte </div>
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4. <i>The Lost Wife </i>by Alyson Richman</div>
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5. <i>Atonement </i>by Ian McEwan</div>
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6. <i>The Time in Between </i>by Maria Duenas </div>
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Do not be surprised if a synopsis or book review will pop up in the future, as I plan to delve in their worlds and experience everything. It will finally give me a chance to escape my boring hometown and go somewhere more exciting, like 1930s Spain. To fellow bibliophiles, I encourage to pick up a copy from the store or library and read on for yourself. </div>
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-71432184737771699062013-05-04T16:14:00.002-04:002013-05-04T16:18:53.798-04:00A Transpiring Between Two Lovers, Part IV<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Home is something that cannot be quite described. The definition is highly contingent upon the person's perspective of what home means and the image it illicit. But ultimately, it is the one place that every person desires to go. When things are good, when things are bad, home is home. Regardless of what life was like, there is one thing irrevocably true about home: it changes us. </div>
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<i>My love, do you remember that one crisp December night, when we had that argument? The one that I thought for sure that we would never speak again, never love each other again, and never be with each other from that moment forward? Yes, that one. We were arguing outside my doorstep and you spoke your final piece and leaped inside and slammed the door, right in your face, with a loud smack, reverberating loudly and its visceral reminder of words being unspoken resonating deeply beyond the few inches we stood. I run upstairs and clutched my pillow, heart wrenching sobs escaping my chest and hot tears trickling down my cheeks as I buried my head in my pillow, with the hopes that my broken heart would somehow be remedied with the comfort of soft cotton. Minutes passed by, transpiring into hours. And with my heart broken, I was more hurt and upset at the prospect that I would never speak to you again, I would hear you laugh again after fumbling over a jumbled sentence or something silly, and I would never see you smile again at me. I hated that even more than whatever it was we were arguing about; that wasn't as important as much as I liked you. Or loved you, even without me knowing what it was I feeling. I jumped out my bed, flung a thin jacket on, and biked to your dorm building. While setting my bike beside the brick wall, I caught a glimpse of your face. I had never seen you appearing so grim, so defeated, so sad, as if you lost the most important thing. Your brow was furrowed, your eyes drooped, and your frown was deep. You've never looked sadder. I realized then that I never wanted to see you like that again, so utterly dejected. I approached slowly and when you heard the crumpling snow, you looked up and our eye contact was met with a sense of urgency and homecoming. We ran towards each other and wrapped my arms around you. I never wanted to leave your arms again, to depart from your embrace. You placed your hands on my face and whispered only a few words that still remain embedded in my memory. "Let's never depart from each other again." You hugged me once more, your arms tighter against my waist and your head resting on my shoulders. I felt like I was returning home. I was being welcomed home. </i></div>
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-81898463496219836552013-04-16T19:31:00.003-04:002013-04-16T19:33:36.796-04:00Je rêve d'été<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today marks the 5 week countdown where I will be spending my summer in Europe. For faithful readers, you all know very much my ardent desire to travel and see Europe, so this is something that is vying all my attention during these stressful last weeks of the semester. I immediately begin to think which cities I can visit, what people I will encounter, what experiences I will sense, the memories that I will make. I have long come to recognize that traveling is not merely just seeing novel places and taking in beautiful scenery that reveres the beauty of creation. Rather, it is about the places you see, the people you meet, and the memories you make. When I look back, I certainly don't want to just remember visiting a famous European city. I'd rather remember what I did when I was there, what I saw, and who I met. I have a very romantic view to traveling; I see adventure and beauty in everything, and I believe that I can transform any mundane thing into something exciting. Perhaps I am viewing all of this through the lens of a writer, but regardless of the frame I'm glancing through, I am reminding myself that these four dreams could very well be reality this summer.</div>
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1. I am always interesting in refining my style. Moreover, I desire to further cultivate my individual sense of style that sets me apart. And, like everything else about me, my style and fashion gravitates towards a European mode. I enjoy simple shapes, textures, and designs. I like nude and muted colors. However, with summer around the corner, this is naturally infused with splashes of color. I do hope that my style will begin to look like a trendy explorer with her head in the books, her heart in the heavens, and her eyes set on making a mark. </div>
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2. Explore major European cities. Cities like Prague, Belgrade, Vienna, and Budapest are among the top of the list in the region that I am staying. There is something so exciting about walking down streets that have last for several centuries, where history was made, and stories have been made. In addition to being touristy within measures, exploring cute boutiques and quaint cafes that may not necessarily be in a <i>Lonely Planet </i>traveling guide is all the more exciting. It will be part of the many stories and discoveries I hope to make. </div>
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3. Greece. The bright azure scenery, the turquoise waters, the tranquil places...I could go on. Perhaps it was the allure <i>Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants </i>presented, or just the clear blue waters that entices me to go. Regardless, there is a mystique that surrounds Greece. Visiting biblical cities, such as Thessaloniki, Corinth, and Athens. Close my eyes and inhale the salty air, feel the thick air surrounding me, and breathe in the atmosphere. </div>
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4. Travel via train. This is perhaps the event I am most excited about. The prospect of traveling on a train, sitting seats by an old wooden table, with archaic decor, and falling in love with the scenery. I find the train to be such a romantic method of voyage. A couple sitting across from each other, gazing deeply in each other's eyes, grazing each other's hand, and sitting in silence, and yet, communicating far more than words could express. This is what I think whenever I think traveling by train, but of course, I just think it's equivalent to stepping a little bit back in time while remaining contemporary. I can finally break out the list of books I've been desiring to read. I can sit, with my novel in hand, and see rolls of green hills whiz past me. It's something I've always wanted to do, and the prospect of it possibly coming to pass is clearly exciting to me. </div>
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-44738301080971011862013-04-15T17:20:00.000-04:002013-04-15T17:20:27.956-04:00Waning on Waiting?For a young twenty year old at a Christian university, being single is almost equated to being a nun or has failed to meet her future husband. Putting all romantic and fairy-tale stories aside, this is rather disappointing. It is almost as if life is put on a timeline, a template that everyone is required to follow. If you haven't met your future spouse by twenty, you are clearly not listening from God. There are many things wrong with that statement, all of which I will address. In addition, to this visceral mentality prevalent on Christian campuses nationwide, it is no wonder that waiting has gained a rather impetuous reputation. Feeling the effects myself, as a young vibrant Christian woman, it can be difficult to comprehend what the Christian social circles say you have to experience by this age range. Perhaps what makes it all the more difficult is the profuse number of peers that are getting engaged. That, and the countless hours spent on tumblr and Pinterest admiring sweet and romantic couples/engagement/wedding pictures is not aiding that sentiment. I am well aware that waiting sounds very Christian-like, very stringy, and quite chaste. Waiting for that one special person is absolutely archaic, some may say. Very well, that can be true in particular instances, yet it would be insufficient to state that is true in <i>every </i>sense. Waiting can be a wonderful thing, particularly if it's presented in the right view. However, this isn't a post about waiting. At least, not entirely. Rather, this is a statement addressing many attitudes in the Christian spheres regarding pertinent topics such as waiting and the process that goes into waiting.<br />
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By waiting for that special person, it is not saying that you are incomplete and you are patiently waiting for that one person that will make you complete. As a Christian, it is Jesus that truly makes you complete. Rather, waiting is a test on character, virtue, and faith. I am sure that some of you have heard the expression that waiting is easy. I can assure it is not. In fact, I find waiting to be a very difficult thing to do. Waiting does mean that life is on pause until you meet/date/marry that special person. Ladies, allow me to speak to you for a moment. Waiting is a wonderful thing and should not be done passively. But permit me to say that while you wait, enjoy life. Enjoy singlehood. Enjoy the single life. Enjoy the pleasure of spontaneity. Enjoy that you are free to do whatever you want whenever you want. The period of singlehood is designed not to torture you while your special someone enters your life, but rather to grow as a person. Singlehood is designed as a period of time in which the person matures, grows, cultivates her character, and becomes the woman and wife she deserves to be to her husband. But, in all honesty, being single is fun. You can go out and party, enjoy your time, and do things you otherwise wouldn't be able to do if you were in a relationship, such as travel, do an internship, or simply do the things you desire to do. I believe that modern media has depicted singlehood incorrectly. Being single doesn't mean you're alone, you're depressed, and you're without love. While you are not in a romantic relationship, you are surrounded by people who you love and love you in return, so you are certainly not alone. It is true that there are certain things you cannot do as a single woman, but it goes both ways. I understand the desire to be cherished by that wonderful man, but until then, enjoy life. You are given a certain amount of time of being single; enjoy it while you can and do not let it go to waste. Get to know yourself, form your own identity, and love yourself. Singlehood is a gift (hard to see at the moment, I completely understand), but nonetheless, it is a period in everyone's life in which you grow as a person. When the right time comes when you meet that special man (still speaking to the female demographic), you will have gone through a process which has prepared you to be in a relationship that will design to last.<br />
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Okay, I will be transparent for a moment. I go to a Christian university where there are some girls that desire to get their MRS degree before graduation. (Disclaimer: I am not one of them.) They actively seek out potential guys that could be their husband. You may laugh, but I am positively serious. Perhaps the atmosphere that encourages such pairings, but it is interesting how quickly two people will enter a relationship. For those, however, that are not quite that keen to enter a relationship, and prefer to--wait for it--wait, it is not a crime against Christianity. Waiting a perfectly apt thing to do. Waiting essentially says, I know God's best is out there for me, and so I will wait for His divine timing when my spouse will enter my life. If you're twenty and you're not in a relationship or even pursuing one, <i>that is fine. </i>That is more than fine. Don't feel that just because everyone around you is either in a relationship or engaged or even married makes you less of a Christian. Everyone is different; some receive it earlier and some later in life. That is not contingent on your walk with God. While you are waiting, fall deeper in love Jesus. Allow Him to romance you, to show you His heart, to show you His heart for you. I tried to avoid sounding cliche, but I fail on this: There really is no rush. Enjoy life. Waiting means you are positioning for something to come. Waiting will not last forever. So until that period ends, enjoy life to yourself before you begin sharing it with someone else.<br />
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For those of you who are waiting and are truly waiting on God's instructions, you often find yourself asking what it looks like. I can assure you that it does not mean that you are sitting and waiting for God to place him in your lap. He will come out of nowhere. Bam! There you go. Unfortunately, it's not like that. Rather, it is more enveloping yourself so deeply in God's heart that out of that, God will lead you and direct you to be in the right place at the right time so that God will bring 2 people utterly in love with Him together. You surrender your previous ideas regarding dating, what he will look like (since God can surprise you), what <i>your </i>story might look like, and how you'll meet. Let that go and give it to God. Allow Him timing, His goodness, and His blessings counsel you. Since we can think incorrectly about many, many things, waiting is not just waiting. It is a process, as I mentioned earlier, that constitutes a change in attitude, a renewal of mindset, and follow the Holy Spirit's footsteps. However, waiting can look differently for everyone. It can be an extensive process or it can merely mean trusting and relying on the Lord's timing. Allow these Scriptures to nurture your spirit, to encourage you that God's timing is truly perfect, and reassure you that God is a good Father--He will not withhold anything good from His children. He knows the perfect time when to give it. Just as a chef knows the perfect time when to take a meal out of the oven, God is likewise wise when to present something to us. If it's too early, it will be undercooked, and that will be no good because it will not be fully developed. If it's too late, it will be overcooked, and it will be burnt. It will be taken out at precisely the right time, when all the ingredients have fused together and give off a powerful and delicious aroma.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"This vision is for a future time. It describes the end, and it will be fulfilled. If it seems slow in coming, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed." Habakkuk 2:3</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"And thus Abraham, having patiently waited, obtained the promise." Hebrews 6:15</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"The LORD Almighty has sworn, "Surely, as I have planned, so it will be, and as I have purposed, so it will happen." Isaiah 14:24</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"For all of God's promises have been fulfilled in Christ with a resounding "Yes!" And through Christ, our "Amen" (which means "Yes") ascends to God for his glory." 1 Corinthians 1:20</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001320;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
My hope in writing this post is not advocating waiting or discussing how wonderful being single is or how I loathe counting how many couples have gotten engaged in the past 6 months. Rather, it is writing an expose on what waiting truly looks like and how it is truly a wonderful process and experience. In this, I aspire that when someone waits, it will not produce a putrid taste in the mouth or curl the mouth upward. I am merely writing on the intended purposes of what waiting is, what singlehood is intended to be, and why waiting is a beautiful thing. There is a particular view on these aforementioned subjects; I am simply discussing what the intended design of it is.ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8543122569635524718.post-34149143263505956842013-04-13T19:28:00.000-04:002013-04-13T19:28:35.776-04:00A Transpiring Between Two Lovers, Part III<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3. Among Friends</span></span><br />
It has often been said that when you are among close friends, you are among family. I've always pondered whether that was just a remark used when family had let you down or when the company of friends is more uplifting than that of your own flesh and blood. I was most surprised to find out that it had nothing to do with family ties or the commonalities or anything that ties and binds. It is simply about being the midst of those you love and those who love you being in their lives from the most trifling circumstances to the most important life events.<br />
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<i>M: Hello? Are you there? I can only talk for a little while.</i><br />
<i>F: Oh, I am so glad that we're finally able to chat! Some time has passed since we've last spoken.</i><br />
<i>M: Yes, yes, I know. Timing is very fragile for me.</i><br />
<i>F: I'm aware of that. Tell me everything that has gone through your mind since we've last spoken.</i><br />
<i>M: For the time that I've spent here, I was set on the idea that these are people that I am acquainted with, but I have no intention of being friends with. However, the more time I've spent with them, talking with them, engaging in dangerous situations (as it usually happens over here), I've realized that we all have very similar stories and interests. We've began to realize that we are not quite that dissimilar as we originally thought. The most profound discussions happen late at night, </i><i>cuddled by the warm fire, </i><i>under the starry night, when our minds drift to where our hearts lie, and we would say whatever was our minds. We would talk about everything: from life back home, to the girl waiting for us back home, to memories, to where life will lead us after this, and to just reflections on the day. Recently, we've all managed to pitch in and buy local instruments and once we have finished using words to express ourselves, we would pick up the nearest instrument and begin playing. It doesn't sound very lovely, but the way our thoughts are expressed through music is profound.</i><br />
<i>F: That sounds absolutely lovely, my dear. I've never once wished that you would be alone over there. I've always longed that you would interact and make friends, certainly not to replace the ones you have, but rather because we are social creatures and are designed to interact with one another.</i><br />
<i>M: You always know just what to say.</i><br />
<i>F: I actually visited some of our friends last weekend.</i><br />
<i>M: You did? You drove down there for the weekend?</i><br />
<i>F: I did. They were all there, gathered together, and since I didn't know when the next time this would happen, I figured I might as well. It was wonderful, to see all of us gathered together. It felt just like old times. There was a massive feast, so we dined outside, in the backyard, with beautiful lights illuminating through the late night sky. We looked through old pictures, talked about old memories, discussed many college memories. It felt so wonderful being there.</i><br />
<i>M: Oh, how I miss them. How I wished that I was there, with them all. Did you tell them how it pained me that I wasn't there?</i><br />
<i>F: Of course I did. I told them you were away and that we must do this again somehow, when you're back home. </i><br />
<i>M: I'm sorry that I wasn't there. How I wished I wasn't away so I could been in the company of good friends. </i><br />
<i>F: My love, fret not, for they assured me that this would certainly not be the last time we would gather together. While we were looking over old pictures, there was an old file they showed me. I didn't know you did photography for a while. I knew you enjoyed it and liked doing it, but you never told me that you seriously considered it as a business venture. You mentioned before that it was something you wanted to do, but couldn't see yourself doing it professionally since it's more of a hobby. They showed me a compilation of old photographs you used to take. There were various pictures ranging from a ferris wheel in the sunset at a carnival to a crashing wave. Most of them were scenic. And then, there was one particular picture that stuck out to me. It was a candid photograph of a young woman sitting in a coffee shop wearing a red cable knit sweater reading a book while drinking a cup of coffee. </i><br />
<i>M: It was something I used to do to express myself individually. The more busy I got, the less I did it until I stopped entirely. That photograph was taken in December at a nearby coffee shop, not far from campus. I don't know what it was about her that struck me about her. Perhaps it was the way the red sweater contrasted against her hair or the fact that in a busy coffee shop she appeared so serene and dissolved in her novel that it was mesmerizing. I didn't see her face since her head was cradled between the pages of her book, so I never found out who it was.</i><br />
<i>F: Did you ever think about her after that?</i><br />
<i>M: Not extensively. It was more the picture that stayed with me and I wondered if I were ever see her again. Naturally, that doesn't matter in the slightest since I have you.</i><br />
<i>F: Thank you, my dear, for capturing me on that stuffy December day. </i><br />
<i>M: The girl in the picture is you?!</i><br />
<i>F: Indeed it is. The red sweater was given to me by my ex-boyfriend shortly before our relationship ended. Then I never wore the sweater again since I found no reason to. That's why you never saw that sweater again.</i><br />
<i>M: I cannot believe that you are that girl in the photograph. The chances of you being here is almost uncanny.</i><br />
<i>F: Of course I would never mention back then that I saw you walking the coffee shop, but I didn't give you a second thought. I knew exactly who you were.</i><br />
<i>M: Oh, my darling! You have the ability to make me smile thousands of miles away. Unfortunately, I must bid you adieu. Give my warmest hellos to them and let them that I will be returning shortly. I love you, my mysterious, photogenic, and utterly beautiful woman. I will be with you in a very short time. </i><br />
<i>F: I love you, my handsome. I love you.</i><br />
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ralucahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637409993922138406noreply@blogger.com0