"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.