It's been a year

What a crazy month it's been.

First, I miss the anniversary of my grandfather's death. I had a little tribute post drafted and then never posted it. Hopefully one day I will.

I miss the one year anniversary of my blog, and, more importantly, the chance to thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for caring about me enough to check in every so often and read about what's going on in my world.

Just this past week I missed another anniversary. The official one-year-since-I-left-for-Europe. Of course, that was the day that a massive cold front hit my part of the country and knocked out my internet for four days. (Too make matters even worse, the weather was in the positive digits in Vienna, with plenty of sunshine. Augh, why do I do this whole "living in Canada" thing?!)

My adopted Mom in Vienna e-mailed me to let me know I was missing the social highlight of the year, and she was fondly remembering experienceing it together last year.

For the record, I've been in 'partial' mourning for the past month. Not because my life is horrible, (it isn't, actually, it's going really well, I have an amazing boyfriend and things are getting serious, plus I'm doing contract work for a highly respected and influential organization), it's just that...sigh....

I miss so many things. My Opa, my Oma, my Grandma, my Onkle Oscar, my 'A' mom and dad, living in Vienna, fresh Nespresso Espresso (Ristretto of course, a lightly sour note and an intensive body...mmm), walking or taking transit everywhere, watching the sun set behind the Ratthaus, the heavy perfume of roses wafting through the Volksgarten, strolling along the River with D and S, moving to the music with K, dance lessons with Toni Braxton and L, wearing skirts everyday and not having to worry about nylons, sharing an appreciation for the finer elements of life with G, singing German worship music, going to open air concerts with thousands of attendees, exploring the streets and alleyways, drinking massive amounts of Red Bull to pull 21-hour days on four hours of sleep, exploring the largest shoe store in Austria, shopping at Müller, playing with Katze, have to go through the building door and up a flight of stairs before getting to my apartment, listening to Serbian music with the girls, talking with my 'A' mom and ... I could keep on going.


Is it possible to be homesick? I think I am.