...time is out of joint...

Here again, behind this familiar bullet proof glass with a sideways view to the portrait of the queen...except now I can hear some lilting jazz from the office behind me and some of the staff have changed. But still, this is the closest I can get to being 'home'

It felt like i had never left, when I sat at the peeling enamel table outside the Rigo Jancsi cafe, wolfing calories and icing sugar.. watching summer relinquish her grip ..

The world is a lot smaller than when last I sat here, but it's still too large to traverse as often as my soul requires. I think if it wasn't for the wallopping great love that's come rather suddenly (if 8 months is sudden!) I would be sitting on Monument Hill now, let's see, 6pm at home, yep, cradling a bottle of little creatures ale, and watching the winter sun ooze behind the silhouettes of the cranes by the harbour.

Instead tonight, I'll probably cradling a notebook and pen in the CEU library, jotting down idiosyncrasies of good old Weber's life. But outside the city will be the same one i fell rotten-in-love with eight years ago... it is still burdened by many of the same crumbling facades and filthy streets. And I do still love it here. And after the notebook I'm sure there will be at least a bottle of Dreher if not Little Creatures.

Remind me that I still love it here, when homesickness comes and sits like a raw potato in my belly. After all, I still think I'm the luckiest girl in the world.