But now I'm in Vienna. Change of direction angst is still in the air, but it's been diluted with the smells of my morning mochas and our evening curries.
Which makes change of direction angst significantly more palatable.
I've had my own room for four consecutive days now.
Privacy feels bizarre.
Growing up, physical privacy was something I treasured. Fought for. Demanded. I wanted a lock on my door and family members absolutely had to knock to gain entrance. The worst possible offense was for my mother or little sister to casually stroll into my horse girl haven without so much as a polite, "may I come in?"
Privacy retained its critical importance throughout my university experience. I needed the freedom to create my own space and to retire to that space whenever I liked, with the knowledge that no one would intrude whilst I created my epic to-do lists or flipped through my mountainous piles of flashcards. The rooms in which I stayed for significant periods of time were very clearly mine. My paintings adorned the walls, a desk I'd designed (and my family had built) out of a tree trunk and a pane of glass sat under the window next to my futon (I couldn't stand actual beds).
My books on a bookshelf built by my brother.
My grandmother's standing mirror in the corner.
My space. Me. Safety. Comfort. Ease. Clarity.
This changed when I started sharing space with romantic partners. I cared so much that I couldn't be bothered to care at all. A few too many heated discussions about making the bed led to an apathy I'd never before experienced in regards to personal space. In fact, the last room I shared with a romantic partner had hardly anything of mine at all. Not a single poster or painting on the wall. I kept books and electronics under the bed and clothes in a closet in the hall.
Now I sleep anywhere and everywhere and occasionally manage to unpack my bag.
There are the beautiful moments people offer me a space to put my toothbrush.
Felix even told me that his kitchen was mine for the duration of our time together.
In general, I've managed to let go of my need for a private space and for that space to be a reflection of my personality.
But when change of direction breezes start to blow, it's nice to have My space. Me. Safety. Comfort. Ease. Clarity.
I think I'll be here for a few more days. Felix is fabulous, the space is helping me find my feet and Vienna...
I think I'm growing rather fond of Vienna.
It's the largest city in Austria with 1.7 million residents.
42,000 of whom are from the US (which is comparable to the population of my hometown).
It's known as the City of Music.
Mozart, Haydn, Schubert, Beethoven, Mahler, Brahms --
Some were born in the City of Music and all filled the city with music.
It's known as the City of Dreams.
(Hello, Freud)
It's known.
By five million tourists every year.
Home of the snowglobe (accidentally. Erwin Perzy was originally trying for a surgical lamp. But then he put a basilica inside).
Baroque and Rococo architecture line the streets. Not much Renaissance work because they were invaded by Turks during that particular movement and were too busy protecting what they had to make anything new.
There are 300 balls every year. This is probably why every Austrian child must spend six months studying dance in school.
Lots of waltzing to be done.
Home of the world's oldest zoo.
Complete with giant pandas.
Yang Yang.
Long Hui.
Fu Long.
Fu Hu.
Fu Bao.
(now you can properly introduce yourselves. And maybe have a waltz)
Vienna.
Drink at 16. Vote at 16. Drive at 18.
What? My American drink at 21, vote at 18 and drive at 16 brain doesn't understand this at all.
Vienna.
Second largest cemetery in Europe. Resting ground of Beethoven, Brahms, Gluck, Schubert, Schoenberg, and Strauss. Good luck finding them, though. Zentralfriedhof cemetery boasts 2.5 million inhabitants (?) -- which is twice as many as actively participate in Viennese life.
So many festivals.
A philharmonic concert to welcome in the new year.
Vienna Opera Ball at the end of carnival season.
And more balls (300 of them).
Balls, balls, balls.
Free movies.
Free dances.
Free concerts.
Balls, balls, balls.
Barbecues by the Danube.
Krampusnacht.
Wait, what?
Oh, you know. That night in December where all good citizens dress up like demon goats and run through the streets swinging chains and swatting children with birch sticks. Be especially cautious of the red-eyed horned demon creatures carrying sacks. They use those to carry particularly precocious children off to hell.
It's all very festive.
Wiener Schnitzel is serious business and is, by law, made out of veal. If any other meat is substituted, the meal, by law, can no longer be called Wiener Schnitzel. If pork is used, the dish must be called Wiener Schnitzel vom Schwein or Schnitzel nach Wiener Art.
Felix treated me to lunch after an afternoon by the Danube. One of the items on the English menu was the following:
"Wiener Schnitzel" (pork)
Not only did they clarify that the schnitzel wasn't veal, they put the name in quotations.
In Vienna, you don't mess with schnitzel.
Vienna.
You are so winning for parks.
And free drinking water.
or Trinkwasser, rather.
I haven't seen any free public turtles, but I approve of your free frolicking deer.
The fact that you've created an island in the Danube compensates for the fact that you don't have very cheap fast food.
Donauinsel's (Danube Island. Zero points for creativity, Vienna) primary purpose is flood protection, but it's positively teaming with sunbathers, swimmers, roller bladers, bikers, runners and picnickers. I could be friends with all of them.
Full points for ability to Couchsurf. Vienna is a pretty perfect place when seen through Felix's eyes. Parks and biking and good food and festivals.
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| Felix |
Vienna gets quite a few points for bike-ability, but not as many as Munich or Frankfurt or Copenhagen. It's confusing how lanes randomly shift from one side of the road to the other and often disappear altogether.
However, the city does somewhat compensate for the minor annoyance of inconsistent lanes with majorly awesome corkscrew ramps.
Citizens seem very active about participating in politics (perhaps it's because they start voting at 16) and hold protests with nearly as much regularity as they attend balls.
Vienna. You win full points for ice cream and bonus points for sublime frozen yogurt.
Full points for festivals and bonus points for demon goat parades.
Stay true to your schnitzel. It's a good one.
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