Home Page

Like Being in A Fairytale

I cannot decide whether the landscape of Austria looks familiar or like a fairytale. A bit of both, perhaps. At times I am reminded of New England and Pennsylvania Dutch country, and at others I’m thinking it’s MOTHERFUCKING AUSTRIA.

No, it is the hills that are distinctly foreign and fairytale-ish, alternately covered in patches of forest and rolling green. The hills of Vermont and Pennsylvania are similar, but seem more like an artist painting a picture from memory rather than life.

City of Music, City of My Heart

Today and tomorrow are for music.

I came to Austria for one purpose, and that was to fangirl Mozart. Is it strange to admit a crush on a dead genius? The irony of these days being for music is that I have broken my headphones on the way over and therefore cannot listen to any. How gauche and American could I get, to wander Stephansplatz in search of an Apple store and coffee to go?


I am out of my depth. Unlike Oxford, I came to Vienna to become verloren, to become lost. But I didn’t realize exactly how unmoored I would feel. Language barriers–normally never much trouble for me–suddenly seem insurmountable. I am passable in Spanish (once fluent, but now no longer), can get by in French, and can […]