I guess it's a permanent situation. American TV is the best part and I have it constantly humming in the background: the score to my life story. Infomercials, syndicated programs, old sitcoms - they're all welcome.
Shopping bags, luggage, backpacks, and purses still litter the floor of my room and it will take a while to sort out the contents of the best month and a half of my life.
In standard Karen post-Europe blues fashion, I am again surrounding myself with mementos, books, magazines, and other kinds of paraphernalia that are related to my trip. I saw "Chicago" on the West End and so today I bought the soundtrack. Bebe Neuwirth was what I was really looking forward to. Then out of an interest in Bob Fosse, I rented "Cabaret." I kinda can't figure out what the deal is with Joel Gray. Or Liza Minelli. Or Michael York.
I've been struggling with assimilating back to normal life. I'll waver between being disgusted at the bland meaninglessness of everything around me, and then feel relieved that I am in a situation more comfortable than what more than 75% of the world enjoys. Of course, comfort is relative. But it's important to realize these things as objectively as possible before I start turning ungrateful and bratty about being "stuck in San Diego" instead of some remote, outdated European town.
Oh, but the remote, outdated European towns! How I miss them.
The mosaic in my mind: I said, in London, "This sucks!" He said, remembering my usual utterance, "Monkey balls." Locanda del Galluzzo and the vending machine in front of the farmacia, then lighting a candle and, "Ma', che puzza!" Talking about what "chickabow" means while circling the church in Assisi. Sitting on the Ponte Vecchio in my jogging clothes. Eating my first panino scaldito at a sidewalk cafe. In bed in London and pinching my face. Talking about Pericles, and "Ma tu sei colta!" Being teased about my Prada shoes and my indignance. Never remembering on which street to turn left to get to Pembridge Palace.
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 2:04 AM
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