Found this on my laptop today (10 June 2010).
This blog often serves as reportage, which I think is cheating, since I can hide my emotions behind a veil of facts and figures. I feel this is a betrayal of good blogging. Somehow, in the early history of the medium, the topical blog began to eclipse the confessional one, but it was the confessional blog that was the real ground-breaker (the topical blog is usually nothing more than punditry). The confessional, autobiographical blog was the true "revolution of consciousness," an acid trip that most of us took, as confessors and/or voyeurs.
I am back at my favorite base of operations, Zagreb. My girlfriend, Cristina, is in the United States, which is funny considering she was born in Romania and we now find ourselves on opposite sides of the pond on each other's respective birth-continents. Obviously that has proven to be a relationship challenge, but we seem to be doing well under the circumstances. Of course, she would prefer that I be with her as she wrestles with the myriad complexities and the enormous stress of applying for work in a foreign country. I remain because I was granted a once-in-a-lifetime experience to be in the Balkans and would hate myself if I returned earlier. We both make good points because we are both strong arguers, which is both exasperating and exhilarating. Cristina wins because she can argue beautifully in two languages.
Being in a relationship alternates between running a three-legged race, where we must run slower together; and a 24-hour car race, where the two of us can take turns sleeping and taking the wheel. Sometimes it's an inefficient way to move because you have to abandon selfishness in order to accomodate another person's needs, which much more than sex is the ultimate act of love. But other times it is a far more efficient way to accelerate towards life goals. The trick in assessing any relationship, I suppose, is to decide whether you are spending most of your time running three-legged races or driving (or more complicatedly, if you are ultimately covering more ground together during the driving portions despite those necessary three-legged race moments). The impossibility of knowing one's exact goal complicates things also. What are we running/racing to, anyway, and how quickly are we getting to that unknown destination?
I am greatly disappointed to be returning to the United States. If you read my earliest blog entries, you know that I was hoping a trip to Eastern and Balkan Europe would turn into a permanent stay. I love the culture here, particularly the music culture. My blog entries testify to my synchronization with things over here, from the political to the ornithological to the Eurotrashmusical. For the record, I never felt homesick in my three months of travel. Sometimes I was a bit lonely, or a little disoriented ("Am I in Belgrade or Zagreb?" I asked myself upon waking up this morning—and I was not hung-over), but moments of uncertainty were always quickly cured by a walk on a beautiful spring day, or a good night out.
What I like about returning to the United States, though, is the opportunity to earn some money again sans guilt (I've been on a generous paid vacation so far); to have a chance to reflect, from a distance, on the experience of these last three months; and, hahaha, to record a definitive sequel to my last DJ set showcasing all the music knowledge I have acquired these last three months. And I really look forward to reliable internet, and laundry, and knowing that when my train pulls into the station I will have a roof over my head that night—actually, not taking any trains at all, but rather my SmartCar to any destination I choose.
And Cristina, of course. But Cristina and I can get up and go anywhere together, and right now she has more momentum than I do, being especially smart and clever. Cristina and I are our own country. Wherever we wind up, we'll make it ours. I love you, my Mata Hari. See you in a couple weeks. :-X
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