The needle has landed.

I am no longer venturing Europe. As of late yesterday evening I arrived back in Chicago. John was nice enough to pick me up from the airport, so I didn't have to get a lift from a taxi. I have to say it feels weird being here, especially that for the first time in weeks, I'm using English in gratuitous amounts. Anyways, I haven't written in a while, Graz was lovely. Bad Ischl was nice as well . . . as were all the friends I spent time in the company of. For now, I'm going to spend the rest of the weekend enjoying some great music and festivities at Pitchfork. I'll write later with more words and photographs.

"I am not in this world to live up to other people's expectations, nor do I feel that the world must live up to mine."

Computer crashed and burned. Don't know why or how, but I'm going to have to have the IT guys look at it when I get home. I'm only thanking the heavens that I didn't send my Toughbook home express shipped with all of my other stuff. I guess it is always great to have a backup. By the way, Graz is lovely. Bad Ischl will be even better.

"There's no reality except the one contained within us."

I reached Graz yesterday. I'm staying with friends of mine and will be here for about another week before I leave to stay for another week in Bad Ischl. Then it'll be a hop and a skip over to Salzburg for the beginning route of a long flight home . . . and then Pitchfork! which I am completely excited for right now, among other things. John phoned earlier to tell me that the bulk of my belongings that I shipped home (quite expensively) via express delivery have arrived finally. I was worried about it the entire time I traveled through Italy . . . thinking about the costs of having to replace the bulk of my wardrobe and many of the other essential life items that I brought with me to France.

Well, I've put the Drive-by-Truckers on and am going to go and mull in a bath, then I think Katharina (the friend I'm staying with) and I are going to bake a quiche. There's something about the rolling beat of southern-rock that makes me want to bake a quiche . . . and Kathe, she's a baking frenzy. I suppose that's why we get along.