Gavrila! The tea!
Sep. 29th, 2007 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pipistrellafelixI just got back from seeing Chekhov's Ivanov performed by a Hungarian theater group. In Hungarian. (With English subtitles.) And the language barrier totally didn't matter; it was incredible, overwhelmingly amazing. It made me miss doing Chekhov; I want to bury myself in one of those plays again. I feel like I could work on it all my life and never get tired of it.
Also, I went by myself; I took the bus up past O'Connell street and found the theater (it was the auditorium of Belvedere College, a Jesuit school). And I found my own way back. I feel a little smug about that.
And I came home to eat and fiddle on the internet and when NPR came up (yes, it's my homepage. What?) I started listening to 'Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me,' and oh...I miss summer Saturday mornings with frying pans that actually cook eggs the way I like them, listening to NPR and relaxing.
Still. Dublin becomes more and more home every day. I hope by the time I leave I can call it home without feeling like a silly American.
(I started making a list in my head of things--not people mind you, that's a whole other issue--that I missed from home. Mostly it's showers that have pressure and room to move; as above, frying pans that cook eggs the way I like them; an oven that's clean, and baking dishes with which to bake; more clothes than ten day's worth, and someplace to actually store them; and my own cell phone, which I understand.)
Also, I went by myself; I took the bus up past O'Connell street and found the theater (it was the auditorium of Belvedere College, a Jesuit school). And I found my own way back. I feel a little smug about that.
And I came home to eat and fiddle on the internet and when NPR came up (yes, it's my homepage. What?) I started listening to 'Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me,' and oh...I miss summer Saturday mornings with frying pans that actually cook eggs the way I like them, listening to NPR and relaxing.
Still. Dublin becomes more and more home every day. I hope by the time I leave I can call it home without feeling like a silly American.
(I started making a list in my head of things--not people mind you, that's a whole other issue--that I missed from home. Mostly it's showers that have pressure and room to move; as above, frying pans that cook eggs the way I like them; an oven that's clean, and baking dishes with which to bake; more clothes than ten day's worth, and someplace to actually store them; and my own cell phone, which I understand.)
