Catch-up

It seems my posts are becoming fewer and farther between. I don't know why I keep letting myself go for an entire month without a single update, especially when I have in no way run out of things to talk about. I guess I'm just tired (this whole being an exchange student thing is EXHAUSTING), or maybe I have a re-occuring case of writers block. I don't know. I have plenty of excuses, but the bottom line is I need to capture these memories bouncing around inside my skull and transform them into words before I loose them all and spend the rest of my life regretting my silence.

I told myself I would never do this, but since this Blog is as much for memory-keepings sake as it is for keeping you up to date, its time for us to play a little game of catch-me-up.

Since I spoke to you last, I have had about a kajillion adventures. (And yes, kajillion is a word. Trust me.) Every day has something new and exciting to offer, which makes choosing stories to tell you practically impossible. . . but the one experience I just haven't been able to get out of my mind is the night I saw Anna Vinnitkaya in concert. (Apparently she is a really famous pianist, but I had never heard of her before that night. Then again, I'm not exactly up to date on who is who in the world of classical music. . .)

It was my very first full fledged classical concert. Before that night, the closest thing I had ever seen to a classical concert was the San Juan High Band, which isn't exactly what you would call professional. Not that you guys in the Band aren't great and all, but this was the REAL DEAL. I had to wear a fancy dress and everything.

I have to admit, when Marc and Mamma-D told me they had reserved a place for me at this shin-dig, I wasn't exactly thrilled. I mean, I love music as much as the next person, but this just did not sound appealing. By the end of the night, however, I had a complete change of heart. This is going to sound silly (and you are allowed to laugh), but the sounds spilling from that stage made me feel like Cinderella at the Prince's Ball. All I wanted to do was find the nearest guy who could pass for Prince Charming and dance with him until the clock stroke 12'. I was so in love with the music she played, I went looking for her after the concert and had her sign my ticket. =]

The next week, Marc told me he bought tickets to another event. This time it was a Modern Dance performance. Now I had heard a thing or two about Modern Dancing before, and none of it was very positive. . . But the Vinnitkaya concert had been so insanely incredible that I decided to trust Marc and just go for it.

Turns out that was a BAD decision. The "performance" started at 7:00, and after waiting for about an hour and a half for the thing to start, I realized that the people limping around the stage and yelling random jibberish were the "dancers" and the awkward jerking spasms they were making with thier limbs was the "dance".  . . .

I couldn't make myself take any pictures. It was too appaling. Ugh, I don't even wanna talk about it. Lets move on before my gag reflex kicks in.



As completely horrific as that weekend was, the next one made up for with its insane beautey. I spent all day Friday and part of the day Saturday hiking through the woods of Luxembourg. (Which, by the way, is a itsy bitsy little country in between Belgium and Germany. That means my total of foreign-countries-visited is now at the magical number of three.)

When I say hiking, I really mean walking. I suppose when you are from Utah, and you just so happen to be the Grandchild of Winston Hurst, you have a very specific image in mind of what a "hike" is. Although the scenery was beaufiful and the distance covered fairly substantial, that little excersion simply did not earn the title of "hike". It was still nice to get away fromt the city life for a while and breathe a little fresh air again.

It only got better from there. The next weekend was my favorite day of the entire year. It's the day when I get to stuff my face with all kinds of delicious foods, and nobody else cares because they are all doing it too. I'm talking, of course, about THANKSGIVING!!!

Now, I know what you are thinking. . . Its something along the lines of

"Wait a minute, Thanksgiving is an American holiday. Isn't she in Belgium?"

 The answer, my friends, is yes. Thanksgiving IS an American holiday, and I AM in Belgium living with a Belgian culturaled family. . . But Turkey Day is just such a happy day, I couldn't help myself. I cheated. I got together with my American pals and had myself a Thanksgiving Dinner.

 I regret nothing.

See that girl next to me with the beautiful smile? Her name is Brooklynn Rasmussen. She is one of my favorite people in the entire universe. She is pretty much amazing. End of story. (Oh, and the girl behind the camera is pretty awesome too. You can't see her, but she is Beautiful. Her name is Alexa)  =]

And of course it wouldn't be the Holidays without a little display of clumbsyness on my part. Apparently plastic forks cannot handle very large amounts of force at one time. . . I learned that the hard way. And somehow fork-snapping-in-two equals stuffing-all-over-lap. Don't ask me how, but its true.

And so . . . yeah. That is pretty much my November in a nut-shell. A very small nutshell crammed full of all kinds of happiness, but a nutshell none the less. =]