off to the wayside

My time away was fantastic and as always served to illustrate more clearly what I hate about living in Milan. Don't get me wrong, there are certain definite advantages, one of them being it rarely ever snows. In terms of the arts, we are comparable to a New York or a London. But much to my dismay, this town is ugly, worn, and the population has grown not only in number but also in madness. This has to be one of the most stressful places to live, and the frenetic manner in which the Milanese lead their lives is both contagious and infuriating. There are moments when I am not in a hurry and yet I find myself increasing my pace only because I seem to be slowing others down...and I am a naturally fast walker. There is no limit to where the ill-mannered and frustrated can arrive here. Gratuitous insults are common and plentiful. The simplest thing becomes a trial simply because people do not know how to queue nor do they respect their fellow man. I realize I am not painting a nice picture here, and I am generalizing just a bit, but what I am saying is true to about 95%. At least in my experience.
But I digress. I didn't even want to discuss this now. What I came here to say (it's also a great excuse not to study) is that I need to get something off my chest. I am weary
and I grow wearier carrying this on my shoulders.
I chose to take a certain path about 2 months ago, thinking at the fork that one way would be better than another down the line. I don't know how much of this was actually a conscious choice and how much was based on illusions and dreams. Nevertheless, I began this journey and I soon discovered that it was NOT the path of least resistance. What I had got myself into involved sacrifice, determination, and strength. Granted, none of these things frighten me. But I
didn't realize how difficult it would be when life put her ugly hand in the game to just complicate things.
So, as with all things, enormous difficulties presented themselves and being unable to handle things myself from here I was forced to enlist the help of friends and family. I made the world move- twice- just for me. Looks like all on this front is ok.
So here I am, about 2 weeks from the first of possibly 3 very important dates for me.
But in the month that has passed, in the huge disappointment I suffered in December, now the result is that none of it seems worthwhile anymore. I broke free of my delusion and reality slapped me in the face - hard.
I have questioned my motivations, I have serious doubts as to this being the right thing, were I even to achieve it (which is also nearly impossible given I have a 6% chance). Still...in leaving room for doubt I have let a lion out of its cage.
I am beginning to seriously consider giving up, but my pride won't let me. I don't want my abandonment to be a slap in the face to all who helped me get where I am right now. And since this is a competition, and I am so close to it all, I feel I might as well try.
Trying, however, means at least 2 more months of all this ridiculous studying which has already consumed my life since November. For something which at the very end will culminate in a thing over which I will have absolutely NO control. If I smile the wrong way or have the wrong name I might be excluded no matter what I know or how well I did previously. It's this thought that plagues me at 4 in the morning. Wasting 5 months of my life on something which may fall into the shitter and NOT due to my own negligence.
Still, so close why not try?
Even if it's only to bug a friend who is also doing this, though her motivations are far less real or noble. And she does everything in her power to annoy the shit out of me and plague me with her paranoia. Honey...I have plenty of my own. Thanks.

I don't know. I'm babbling.
But what I do know is that there are moments when I want to weep and send the books flying across the room or off the balcony.
Why do we always arrive to doubt what we thought we desired so badly?

well folks

It was a rough week back, given my horrendous return trip from the South Pole
and jet lag...but I made it here to another Monday. I am tired as hell, this weekend was spent mostly cleaning, putting 7 loads of laundry away, and translating documents for the people who enjoy making my life hell, the Italian government.
I have a lot to study this week, and am still trying to get used to sleeping during "normal" hours. I fall into phases during the day that a narcoleptic would be proud of. The worst time is about 2 pm...my eyes slowly start to close and before I know it I am pinching myself to stay awake.
One good thing has come of my getting away. I have returned mentally relaxed, and quite apathetic. Which compared to my mental and physical state of being a month back is quite the step in the right direction. Now all I need to do is study, keep my fingers crossed, and lay low for the next 2 months. In April my life starts to gain a semblance of "normality" and that is nevertheless saying a lot, for my standards anyway.
Pictures very soon and I am entertaining the idea of writing my travel diary online, but the more I ponder the less I want to face the task.
We'll see. For the moment, looks like smooth sailing.
Holler at me.

back from the dead

It took me nearly 56 hours but I made it back from the end of the world. More to come.