nieselwetter

that sun i talked about in my last post? gone as surely as my name is a throwback to the 80s. i know i talk about the weather a lot, but i've realized since moving here how deeply i'm affected by lack of sun. in the last six weeks, i've become more pale (is it "more pale," or "paler"? in german the "more" doesn't exist, but my english is leaving me and i've now forgotten which is correct in my native tongue) than i've ever been in my life, and it's starting to bug me a little bit. i keep having extreme desires to fly to berkeley during finals week so i can just go lie at the pool at strawberry canyon and soak up sun until i positively go up in flames.
alright, enough.

i'm not going to poland this weekend, which i'm actually very thankful for. it's been kind of insanely busy over here this last week, and i'm super tired. actually, in a random turn of events, i'm going to leipzig again for a day trip tomorrow with my pals over at school. my class is actually great; i've met some very nice people and have started to feel like i actually will have a normal life here for the next 4.5 months, with friends etc. it's strange to think, though, that i still have another month before my school starts. by the time i'm in my third week of classes, most of you berkeley kiddies will be well on your way to finishing up this school year. it's hard to imagine, really, coming back to berkeley and seeing all my fellow juniors all growed up into seniors.

i'm still working on the poisonwood bible by barbara kingsolver; it is one of the toughest books i've ever read (i got a little teary-eyed on the metro today at a particularly gut-wrenching moment) but kingsolver's prose is utterly beautiful. i'm willing to admit that i'm deeply jealous of her talents.

i'm off for now, but i'll leave you with a little barbara kingsolver. read the book; it's wonderful.

My little beast, my eyes, my favorite stolen egg. Listen. To live is to be marked. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, I've only found sorrow.