I'm not sure when it happened, but it happened. I worked so hard to try to cement the things I learned in Italy into my brain, but it all seems to have evaporated. The lofty goals for myself? Haven't been able to accomplish any of them. And it's my fault, no two ways about it. I get back into my "American" habits and find myself depressed and back in the same spot all over again.
At work, I am now surrounded by completely new people with a whole new realm of politics to maneuver. And while it is a vast improvement over my last position, it is still sitting in a cube making a big corporation more money. At the end of the day, all I can think about is that humans were not meant to be like this. I miss moving like I did naturally with my chores in Italy. I miss so much about Italy, it's painful.
With the evaporation of yet another relationship, I am once again, alone. In Italy when I was alone - which was very often - I knew why I was alone. I was in a foreign country, my friends and family no where to be found. I had no roots there to grow from, no ties to the area to build off of. I had a an excuse to be alone and that was manageable. Here, it's a different game. Everywhere seems to be a reminder of that void. And while I am the one giving this panic energy, I still have a hard time stopping it.
In an effort to divert some of my obsessive nature, I have decided to take up training for a rookie triathlon. Maybe I can take all the negative relentless pounding I do on myself about my personal life and turn it into something positive. A fit body and a sprint triathlon to add to my resume. I hope to god this works, because the alternatives are not so positive. I find myself back watching TV more than I would like to admit in a way to make the hours go by faster and without me noticing them quite so much. And while I still (thankfully) do not have the tolerance for alcohol that I once had, it still creeps into my social life with alarming frequency and with a promise every time of making me forget that I am not happy with where things are. I can't control it. I can't control my love life, that's obvious. I can't force someone to walk into my life. I can control my career and while I still want to give this new position a chance, I know it is not my dream job. The problem is, I don't know what I want to do. This whole writing thing is awesome and I love it - when I have something to write about that interests people. Some people kept up with my blog and I am happy that I could provide some entertainment for them in that way. Coming back was quite a different experience and I didn't prepare myself for people not really wanting to hear about all the cool things I did over there. Of all the culture shock I experienced, that was the worst and by far the biggest disappointment and left a quite bitter taste in my mouth. So again, best I just write about it - assuming "it" is happening. Do I send myself off on another trip? Do I somehow do travel writing? I'm not sure, but writing about my everyday life isn't going to intrigue anyone. And then I end up right where I started - what do I do with my life, my career. I have no more of an answer than I did before I left.
At this moment, right now, other than the friends I made in Italy, it almost feels like it never happened.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
A Christmas Carol
Over the weekend I caught a glimpse of Bill Murray’s version of A Christmas Carol called Scrooged during one of my rare TV sessions these days. It’s one of those 80’s flicks with terrible action shots and way overdone hair and makeup, but it did get me thinking about life perceived through the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. Mostly the past is nothing but looking down memory lane, remembering the highs and the lows and seeing how far you’ve come since that geeky kid in high school. You remember lessons learned, love lost, the thrill of that promotion or a good friend’s baby being born. It’s remembering how you got to the here and now.
And if the ghost of Christmas present were to visit me today, it would paint a much different picture than if it visited me last week. Today is a day of firsts. A new job. An updated wardrobe. A clean(ish) slate. I look at my present and can only marvel at how pretty darn awesome it is. And although I have recently lost my best friend, I have five other good friends and an amazing family waiting in the wings to be there when I need them. I have a cat that runs to the door as soon I put my key in the lock as I come home and a stick shift car that I absolutely adore. My shower has water pressure, I have heat without throwing wood on a furnace and I don’t have to worry about where next month’s mortgage payment is going to come from. I have nothing to complain about.
I have no idea what the ghost of Christmas future would show me. A different career maybe, a different city. A husband and family – but maybe not. The thing about walking away from any relationship or friendship is that you are walking away from a life. Birthdays not celebrated, trips not taken, forgone late nights out and about, bitch sessions about this or that not held. That future that once had a framework is blank yet again. A new job where I have general expectations but am not entirely sure of produces about the same sort blank page. It takes every ounce of me not to flat out panic at the lack of structure of things to come. All I can do is take a deep breath, remember the horses grazing in the pasture, the peace and quiet of the farm, the warmth of the house after the wood stove is stoked and hold onto the calm I found in Italy. As the weeks go on, I think I’m going to be surprised at how much of an impact that trip had on me. And that I am really looking forward to.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Avoiding the Blue Screen of Death
Well now that certainly didn't go as planned.
Coming back to Austin certainly had a rocky start at Polvo's. I was slammed with a lot of news and events that I had missed while I was gone, some good and some not so good. And, to make matters worse, the margaritas didn't even taste good! My favorite drink in all of Austin and I can barely stand the stuff anymore. I have found that with several food items now - my taste buds seem to have done a grand 180 on me when it comes to very sweet or very spicy foods. The margaritas taste incredibly tart and artificially flavored (which they are) and salsa that I didn't even used to blink an eye at now have me downing water and flagging the waiter for a glass of milk (ok, so maybe it's not that bad, but it certainly feels like it). My tolerance for alcohol has also gone down considerably. Where before I left I was known to be able to hold my liquor quite well, now, if I have two glasses of wine, you might as well put me in a cab because I am down for the count.
These are actually really good things and I hope they stick with me. Pants fit better now. Blouses button a bit easier and I feel better about myself than I did before I left. But then again, there is the slide. The slippery, slippery slope back into what was my life before. It doesn't take much. Saying 'yes' to one or two more parties than you planned on, going out for lunch a little too regularly or allowing a friend to buy you just one more drink. There is also the more treacherous slide of slipping back into other far more damaging emotional habits, which are the demons I'm trying to avoid most - and doing quite poorly at, I might add.
I can beat myself up all I want. Call myself all the names I can possibly think of and have people poke holes in my personality and habits all day long. It's not going to change anything. All I can do is present the best version I can of myself and count on the bolstering of others to lift me up when that version just isn't available at the moment. And really, that's all any of us can do, take charge of and handle with care the things we hold in our control - and let the rest be what will be.
Coming back to Austin certainly had a rocky start at Polvo's. I was slammed with a lot of news and events that I had missed while I was gone, some good and some not so good. And, to make matters worse, the margaritas didn't even taste good! My favorite drink in all of Austin and I can barely stand the stuff anymore. I have found that with several food items now - my taste buds seem to have done a grand 180 on me when it comes to very sweet or very spicy foods. The margaritas taste incredibly tart and artificially flavored (which they are) and salsa that I didn't even used to blink an eye at now have me downing water and flagging the waiter for a glass of milk (ok, so maybe it's not that bad, but it certainly feels like it). My tolerance for alcohol has also gone down considerably. Where before I left I was known to be able to hold my liquor quite well, now, if I have two glasses of wine, you might as well put me in a cab because I am down for the count.
These are actually really good things and I hope they stick with me. Pants fit better now. Blouses button a bit easier and I feel better about myself than I did before I left. But then again, there is the slide. The slippery, slippery slope back into what was my life before. It doesn't take much. Saying 'yes' to one or two more parties than you planned on, going out for lunch a little too regularly or allowing a friend to buy you just one more drink. There is also the more treacherous slide of slipping back into other far more damaging emotional habits, which are the demons I'm trying to avoid most - and doing quite poorly at, I might add.
I can beat myself up all I want. Call myself all the names I can possibly think of and have people poke holes in my personality and habits all day long. It's not going to change anything. All I can do is present the best version I can of myself and count on the bolstering of others to lift me up when that version just isn't available at the moment. And really, that's all any of us can do, take charge of and handle with care the things we hold in our control - and let the rest be what will be.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Coda (For Now)
The flight from Rome to Philly is one of the easiest I have ever encountered. I usually take a strong sleeping pill or drink a vodka tonic or two in order to deal with the fact that I am 40,000 feet in the air, pushed along only by these two engines on either side of me. But this time, this time is different. I decide early on in the flight that I'm not going to drink. I'm not going to take those pills. I can handle a flight, ten hours worth, without that stuff. I also surprise myself by how happy and grateful I was to be on the plane. To have made my journey safely, to know I was coming home to my parents and a huge hug from my mom at the airport, for the experiences I had and the friends I had made aboard. I wanted to write all of this down and because we were still were not allowed to get out of our seats, the only paper I had was the last page of Eat, Pray, Love, which I had at my feet to finish up reading. So I jotted down all the goodness I was feeling, all the joy, and I noticed that by using the last page to write this down, I had made a sandwich, so to speak. The first page of the book is signed by Liz Gilbert, saying may all my travels be blessed. The middle is highlighted and noted by my mother, who's copy of the book I now owned. And the last page contained my thoughts on the trip now complete. It's funny how things sometimes just come together.
I have to say, I was a bit nervous about going through immigration and customs. I had 13 bottles of wine, a lot of gifts, and while I had not been on a full out working farm, there could be questions about what exactly I had been doing or exposed to. All of that worry was, as it usually is, for not. We arrived at the gate 45 minutes early, I flew through immigration with two questions from the officer, grabbed my two pieces of checked luggage in less than twenty minutes and wasn't stopped by customs. I was outside, curbside, waiting for my mother to pick me up at the same time I was scheduled to be arriving at the gate. Smooth as silk that journey was.
Beginning in Philadelphia to wade myself back into the water of my life was a good choice. The people here have known me for decades and the connection that we have will never fade, never extinguish - it may morph into different shapes as we go through various periods in our lives, but we will always be connected. These people are the ones that keep me grounded, that make home, home. And it's a valued aspect of being back in the States because otherwise I think I'd be in a constant state of culture shock. Food is an especially big disappointment. No one knows where their food comes from, or even worse, they don't even care. It's something I'm going to struggle with a lot being back and it's going to take a lot of energy to make sure that the food I eat is something that is actually good for me and well raised.
Being here is also a way to test out my old skin and the identity I left behind when I flew over the Atlantic. Overseas I could invent myself in which ever way I wanted to. Not to say that I did, but there were no expectations as to how I should act. Everyone was meeting me for the first time and had no idea who I was. Back here, everyone knows who I am or was. Something has changed about me, but I'm not sure what. I think that will take several weeks to decipher as I get over the jet lag, see through the culture shock and settle back into a routine (which will be fairly difficult with the holidays). The best way to put it, as a friend succinctly summed up after hearing about my experience and purpose of going abroad, was that I basically defibrillated my life. Everything was out of rhythm, nothing felt right, and something needed to happen to get back on course. For me, this trip was it. This was the solid and sometimes not so gentle shock to the heart I needed.
And with that, I gather up my things, stuff them in ziplock bags and fill my pack up for the last time. It's time for my final flight back to Austin, Texas. I don't expect this to be easy. I can already feel the post-vacation depression sinking in, and that's just something I get every time I leave home for a week - imagine what it'll be like after ten. But I know that as soon as I step off that plane and grab my luggage, people will be waiting for me to whisk me away to our favorite restaurant, Polvo's, for our favorite frozen drink, the elusive (in Italy) margarita. And really, there's nothing in life that can't be solved with good friends and a Polvo's margarita.
Andiamo.
I have to say, I was a bit nervous about going through immigration and customs. I had 13 bottles of wine, a lot of gifts, and while I had not been on a full out working farm, there could be questions about what exactly I had been doing or exposed to. All of that worry was, as it usually is, for not. We arrived at the gate 45 minutes early, I flew through immigration with two questions from the officer, grabbed my two pieces of checked luggage in less than twenty minutes and wasn't stopped by customs. I was outside, curbside, waiting for my mother to pick me up at the same time I was scheduled to be arriving at the gate. Smooth as silk that journey was.
Beginning in Philadelphia to wade myself back into the water of my life was a good choice. The people here have known me for decades and the connection that we have will never fade, never extinguish - it may morph into different shapes as we go through various periods in our lives, but we will always be connected. These people are the ones that keep me grounded, that make home, home. And it's a valued aspect of being back in the States because otherwise I think I'd be in a constant state of culture shock. Food is an especially big disappointment. No one knows where their food comes from, or even worse, they don't even care. It's something I'm going to struggle with a lot being back and it's going to take a lot of energy to make sure that the food I eat is something that is actually good for me and well raised.
Being here is also a way to test out my old skin and the identity I left behind when I flew over the Atlantic. Overseas I could invent myself in which ever way I wanted to. Not to say that I did, but there were no expectations as to how I should act. Everyone was meeting me for the first time and had no idea who I was. Back here, everyone knows who I am or was. Something has changed about me, but I'm not sure what. I think that will take several weeks to decipher as I get over the jet lag, see through the culture shock and settle back into a routine (which will be fairly difficult with the holidays). The best way to put it, as a friend succinctly summed up after hearing about my experience and purpose of going abroad, was that I basically defibrillated my life. Everything was out of rhythm, nothing felt right, and something needed to happen to get back on course. For me, this trip was it. This was the solid and sometimes not so gentle shock to the heart I needed.
And with that, I gather up my things, stuff them in ziplock bags and fill my pack up for the last time. It's time for my final flight back to Austin, Texas. I don't expect this to be easy. I can already feel the post-vacation depression sinking in, and that's just something I get every time I leave home for a week - imagine what it'll be like after ten. But I know that as soon as I step off that plane and grab my luggage, people will be waiting for me to whisk me away to our favorite restaurant, Polvo's, for our favorite frozen drink, the elusive (in Italy) margarita. And really, there's nothing in life that can't be solved with good friends and a Polvo's margarita.
Andiamo.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The Facts
Here's a summary of my trip:
Total miles travelled: 12,015 (By Plane: 10,575, Train: 802, Bus 298, Automobile: 134, Ferry: 206 (nautical miles) - miles travelled only includes trips where I changed where I was staying or day trips like CinqueTerra not going to the grocery store 30 minutes away
The route: Philly -> Rome -> Pompeii -> Amalfi -> Ravello -> Naples -> Cosenza -> Rogliano -> Falerno -> Bologna -> Imola -> Dozza -> Florence -> Arezzo -> Monterchi -> Florence -> CinqueTerra region -> Florence -> Arezzo -> Monterchi -> Sansepulcro -> Anghiari -> Monterchi -> Arezzo -> Rome -> Athens -> Naxos ->Athens -> Rome -> Philly
2 Countries - Italy, Greece
70 Days
Chores Completed
Walls/Fences painted: 14
Walnuts shelled: ~300
Weeds pulled: ~400x400 sq ft worth
Rooms cleaned: 10
Wireless routers installed: 2
Cars cleaned: 1
Dishes done: Thousands
Rabbits fed: 2
Sheep fed: 5
Goats fed: 7
Dogs fed: 7
Pigs fed: 2
Horses fed: 3
Chickens fed: 17
Cats fed: 19
Meals made:
Funny cake, Cauliflower fritters, French fries, Fish tacos, Chicken fajitas, Apple pie, Bolognese sauce, Coffee cake, Pasta with Pesto sauce, Tagillini with Tomato Sauce, Spinach/Kale quiche, Phrogaritas, Mimosas, Wheat bread, Raisin bread, Nutella brownies, Lentil soup, Tomato soup, Kale chips
Miscellaneous:
Oceans swum in: 2 - Mediterranean Sea, Aegean Sea
Books read: The Alchemist, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Naked, ROOM, A Scattered Life, Eat/Pray/Love, 5 Romantic Comedies I will never admit to reading
Favorite Italian Word: Andiamo - "Let's Go"
Total miles travelled: 12,015 (By Plane: 10,575, Train: 802, Bus 298, Automobile: 134, Ferry: 206 (nautical miles) - miles travelled only includes trips where I changed where I was staying or day trips like CinqueTerra not going to the grocery store 30 minutes away
The route: Philly -> Rome -> Pompeii -> Amalfi -> Ravello -> Naples -> Cosenza -> Rogliano -> Falerno -> Bologna -> Imola -> Dozza -> Florence -> Arezzo -> Monterchi -> Florence -> CinqueTerra region -> Florence -> Arezzo -> Monterchi -> Sansepulcro -> Anghiari -> Monterchi -> Arezzo -> Rome -> Athens -> Naxos ->Athens -> Rome -> Philly
2 Countries - Italy, Greece
70 Days
Chores Completed
Walls/Fences painted: 14
Walnuts shelled: ~300
Weeds pulled: ~400x400 sq ft worth
Rooms cleaned: 10
Wireless routers installed: 2
Cars cleaned: 1
Dishes done: Thousands
Rabbits fed: 2
Sheep fed: 5
Goats fed: 7
Dogs fed: 7
Pigs fed: 2
Horses fed: 3
Chickens fed: 17
Cats fed: 19
Meals made:
Funny cake, Cauliflower fritters, French fries, Fish tacos, Chicken fajitas, Apple pie, Bolognese sauce, Coffee cake, Pasta with Pesto sauce, Tagillini with Tomato Sauce, Spinach/Kale quiche, Phrogaritas, Mimosas, Wheat bread, Raisin bread, Nutella brownies, Lentil soup, Tomato soup, Kale chips
Miscellaneous:
Oceans swum in: 2 - Mediterranean Sea, Aegean Sea
Books read: The Alchemist, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Naked, ROOM, A Scattered Life, Eat/Pray/Love, 5 Romantic Comedies I will never admit to reading
Favorite Italian Word: Andiamo - "Let's Go"
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Ciao, Bella
This is my last post from Italy as I am at the airport about to board.
Laying in my hostel bed for what will be final night abroad brings mixed feelings. Yes, I am totally excited to come home and I wouldn't delay it for anything. But going home means going back to reality. Getting back into a groove of life that I'm not entirely sure I want to get back into. There is a part of me that could have stayed in Rogliano and never left. There is a part of me that could have stayed in Monterchi and never left. But my home has always been Philadelphia. And now Austin as well. My main hope is that I keep my perspective. I have a new found respect for a bunch of things we take for granted everyday: heat, water pressure, friends, loved ones, a good nights sleep, a feline companion, waking around and feeling safe. I'm so thankful for all of these things. This Thursday is Thanksgiving and I can't imagine the long litany I will able to recite when asked what I am thankful for.
70 days has been the perfect amount of time to be away. Any more and I think I would have started to lose it a little bit. Any less and I would have been cursing having to come home so early. And as cliche as it sounds, I think this trip happened for a reason. Doors opened for me before and during in a way I couldn't have imagined. I mean think about it, I found a replacement for my job at work with a vetern who was just coming off of his own leave and needed a job, a friend of a friend happened to be moving down to Austin from Chicago and was looking to lease an condo, I was over my three years at my company and was eligibile for this unpaid time off, my friends offered to look after my cat and they all actually got along, I applied to ten farms in Italy and three wrote back - the three I am stayed with, I got a new job I have been wanting for months while being abroad, and my company did well enough this year that my bonus can actually cover this trip I have taken. I don't know what you call that, but that isn't just luck. This stuff doesn't just fall into your lap. Believe what you want, but I feel well nudged in the right direction.
The thing is, all of this may have fallen into place for me, but I also think it can fall in place for anyone. It all depends on your risk and tolerence level. Anyone can do what I did, it's just a matter of manuevering in a way that sets you up to succeed. While I do feel a lot of doors opened for me, I also did a fair amount of prep work and organzing before I went. I think if you want it bad enough, almost anything is possible. And in the end, you find you can do things you were never pushed to do before. You can handle situations you never knew you could. You get introduced to a side of yourself that had been a complete stranger up until now. And between the two sides, you realize you can do amazing things.
Ciao, Italia.
Laying in my hostel bed for what will be final night abroad brings mixed feelings. Yes, I am totally excited to come home and I wouldn't delay it for anything. But going home means going back to reality. Getting back into a groove of life that I'm not entirely sure I want to get back into. There is a part of me that could have stayed in Rogliano and never left. There is a part of me that could have stayed in Monterchi and never left. But my home has always been Philadelphia. And now Austin as well. My main hope is that I keep my perspective. I have a new found respect for a bunch of things we take for granted everyday: heat, water pressure, friends, loved ones, a good nights sleep, a feline companion, waking around and feeling safe. I'm so thankful for all of these things. This Thursday is Thanksgiving and I can't imagine the long litany I will able to recite when asked what I am thankful for.
70 days has been the perfect amount of time to be away. Any more and I think I would have started to lose it a little bit. Any less and I would have been cursing having to come home so early. And as cliche as it sounds, I think this trip happened for a reason. Doors opened for me before and during in a way I couldn't have imagined. I mean think about it, I found a replacement for my job at work with a vetern who was just coming off of his own leave and needed a job, a friend of a friend happened to be moving down to Austin from Chicago and was looking to lease an condo, I was over my three years at my company and was eligibile for this unpaid time off, my friends offered to look after my cat and they all actually got along, I applied to ten farms in Italy and three wrote back - the three I am stayed with, I got a new job I have been wanting for months while being abroad, and my company did well enough this year that my bonus can actually cover this trip I have taken. I don't know what you call that, but that isn't just luck. This stuff doesn't just fall into your lap. Believe what you want, but I feel well nudged in the right direction.
The thing is, all of this may have fallen into place for me, but I also think it can fall in place for anyone. It all depends on your risk and tolerence level. Anyone can do what I did, it's just a matter of manuevering in a way that sets you up to succeed. While I do feel a lot of doors opened for me, I also did a fair amount of prep work and organzing before I went. I think if you want it bad enough, almost anything is possible. And in the end, you find you can do things you were never pushed to do before. You can handle situations you never knew you could. You get introduced to a side of yourself that had been a complete stranger up until now. And between the two sides, you realize you can do amazing things.
Ciao, Italia.
Soundtrack
This is a quick and dirty list of the songs that I noticed or were played at certain locations (not played by me). My Italian soundtrack:
Creep by Radiohead but covered by an Italian - Suggested to me by the hotel clerk as a way to start to understand Italian.
Love the Way You Lie by Eminem - Plays at dinner in Pompeii (I also heard it Rogliano, Florence and Sansepulcro. It was by far the most played American song I heard)
All I Want is You by U2 - Pogerno
Don't Stop Till You Get Enough by Michael Jackson - Drinking wine, 'reading' Italian paper in Amalfi
At Last by Etta James - Eating lunch looking over Amalfi coast in Ravello
Maria and Keith's - Sitting by the Dock of the Bay; anything Tarentella
Graduation party Maria took me to - The Macarena
Dozza - Phantom of the Opera. Sally whistling it all the time.
Daytime Friends by Kenny Rogers - Stuck in my head from Keith and Maria's
The Scientist by Coldplay - Dinner in Florence that was three hours. They played this song repeatedly.
You've Got a Friend by James Taylor - Peter plays it.
Drive by REM (Automatic For the People) - My favorite CD in Peter's collection.
Massive Attack's Protection album - Also at Lucie and Peters.
Standard staples that I listened to pretty much the entire time I was travelling on my own iPod:
Sweet Disposition by Temper Trap
Cosmic Love by Florence and the Machine (also Dog Days are Over)
Let the Drummer Kick by Citizan Cope
Anything on the 34th and 8th album by OAR but especially Black Rock and I Feel Home
Skinny Love by Bon Iver
One Red Thread by Blind Pilot
She's My Drive Home by Blue October
Watermark album by Enya - always blared it when trying to block out noise in a hostel
Viva la Vida by Coldplay
All in all, the music was much more mellow than I usually listen to on a consistent basis. The songs and artists I usually listened to back home to get myself in a better mood or to go along with my high energy just didn't seem appropriate at all. I would look at those songs and playlists on the iPod and scrunch my nose up at them. I don't know what I'm going to listen to when I get back home - whether this slight change in taste is another permanent result of my trip abroad.
Creep by Radiohead but covered by an Italian - Suggested to me by the hotel clerk as a way to start to understand Italian.
Love the Way You Lie by Eminem - Plays at dinner in Pompeii (I also heard it Rogliano, Florence and Sansepulcro. It was by far the most played American song I heard)
All I Want is You by U2 - Pogerno
Don't Stop Till You Get Enough by Michael Jackson - Drinking wine, 'reading' Italian paper in Amalfi
At Last by Etta James - Eating lunch looking over Amalfi coast in Ravello
Maria and Keith's - Sitting by the Dock of the Bay; anything Tarentella
Graduation party Maria took me to - The Macarena
Dozza - Phantom of the Opera. Sally whistling it all the time.
Daytime Friends by Kenny Rogers - Stuck in my head from Keith and Maria's
The Scientist by Coldplay - Dinner in Florence that was three hours. They played this song repeatedly.
You've Got a Friend by James Taylor - Peter plays it.
Drive by REM (Automatic For the People) - My favorite CD in Peter's collection.
Massive Attack's Protection album - Also at Lucie and Peters.
Standard staples that I listened to pretty much the entire time I was travelling on my own iPod:
Sweet Disposition by Temper Trap
Cosmic Love by Florence and the Machine (also Dog Days are Over)
Let the Drummer Kick by Citizan Cope
Anything on the 34th and 8th album by OAR but especially Black Rock and I Feel Home
Skinny Love by Bon Iver
One Red Thread by Blind Pilot
She's My Drive Home by Blue October
Watermark album by Enya - always blared it when trying to block out noise in a hostel
Viva la Vida by Coldplay
All in all, the music was much more mellow than I usually listen to on a consistent basis. The songs and artists I usually listened to back home to get myself in a better mood or to go along with my high energy just didn't seem appropriate at all. I would look at those songs and playlists on the iPod and scrunch my nose up at them. I don't know what I'm going to listen to when I get back home - whether this slight change in taste is another permanent result of my trip abroad.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)