Homesick? Need Help?

Might I offer you some tips on how to ease your Heimweh:

EINS:

Go to your nearest grocery and grab yourself a bottle and some Snickers Ice Cream Bars.  I mean, Snickers themselves are ok, but Snickers Ice Cream Bars...heavenly.

ZWEI:

Have one of these around.  (Husband is good too since he can actually talk to you and hug you up.) Elsie helps with homesickness in a dual fashion.  First, that sweet dang face and personality.  Second, you see that plastic coke bottle on the floor next to her bear?  Yeah, she kicks and chases that thing around the floor making the loudest noise from hell that you can't be homesick...just deaf and annoyed.

DREI:

Eat well.  Not that this reminds me of home because I didn't cook until I moved here, but this dish I make often (and put on rice) cause it's quick and tasty does cheer me up.  It ain't no fried chicken steak or bowl of queso, but let's not overdo it, k?  We already had two Snickies. (Art had four.)

A Little Bit of Heimweh

Since we've lived here (2 years on Monday), I haven't been too homesick (surprisingly)....until now.  I don't know if it's the weather, a 2-year itch or because I was home recently, but I miss my friends, family, car and I'm nostalgic for life before Graz.  I want to be able to get in my Accord, turn on my tunes and drive wherever.  I want to be able to meet an old friend for fajitas or a good big salad and have a big Diet Coke in a way-too-big plastic glass full of lots of ice and a straw. (I acutally now like my once-a-week Coke Zeros (they aren't good for you and if I have them 2 days in a row, the addiction's back) cold in a glass without any horrific, diluting ice...one of the little things Europe has done to me.)

I want to go for a jog in the warm humidity down Tanglewood Lane.  I want to drop by my parents' house for dinner and sit on the stairs with the dog (totally did that) while eating a handful of peanut M&M's from mama's candy dish.  Then my sister could drop in with my nieces and we could just chat...they'd show me their newest tricks, dances and possibly fight over my attention. :)

{a picture (2007?) I found on my computer..I don't recommend looking at those when you are homesick.  I probably was like "get off of me fatties" a second after the picture was taken, but that's all part of the glory, isn't it? }

Someone recently commented anonymously asking whether we'd ever move back to Texas since we seem to be so accustomed to Graz.  The answer is, I'm not sure.  I know we won't stay in Graz, as much as we do like it here, as this is and always was temporary.  I'm 95% sure we'll move back to the States, but if it will be Texas, I don't know.

So, ich hab heimweh.   Don't feel sorry for me.  It was bound to (and should) happen every now and then.  Writing it down is just sorta cathartic, so that's why I'm doing so.

I'm off to get a Coke Zero, hotwire a car and drive around listening to some Van Morrison, k?

Fun stuff

 

Someone actually did this by folding pages...very strategically...not photoshop.

{via}

Love a good fruit Rubik's Cube.  Is that feta?  Wondey.

{via}

Cupcakes.  Hilarious.  My family would be p!ssed there's no Words with Friends.

{via}

Anything organized in a color array pleases my eyeballs.

{via}

Animal love gets me every time.

{via}

Just dang darling.

{via}

Shall I make my own vertical herb garden (with gutters) for the summer?

{via}

Fun.

{via}

And my new word for the past 4 months has been "horrify" and I say dumb things like "that horrifies my life" or "oh, that is so horrifying to my soul" and I NEVER in a million years would have thought I'd see this in the Graz train station bookstore.

I felt like God was smiling down on me and giving me a nice laugh in recompense for the horrific weather we've had. 

The subtitle is "Wie Sie sich das Leben zur Hölle machen".

which means: "How you make your life a living hell".  

AHAHA.

My life is complete.

More Finished Jobbies...

{some of these have not quite 'come to life' yet, but will soon!}

 

Non-scrapper & calligrapher/painter

{this is only part of the stash. don't look at my boobies}

You think after two years it might be time to actually load all this crap I lugged to Austria (I only brought two suitcases and still brought this...I must have still been on a wedding high) into the nice scrapbook I bought?  Ugh.  Don't want to.  A box works just fine.  This scheiße has been sitting in the storage compartment of our couch for, oh, almost two years. 

It does bring back some memories (of glee and stress) to look at.  One time when I was on a train to Vienna, a girl about my age told me she thought Americans are obsessed with marriage.  I think she really meant weddings.  I think she was a bit correcto.  

My sister drew this map for my Save the Date and did all the calligraphy (for my invites too).  I colored it in on the computer. Is it not wondey to have a sis with a fine, steady and talented hand? 'Tis.

Look at this aboriginal painting she saw on a blog and then painted herself.

this is her inspiration:


and this is hers:

and this is an 'in progress' shot that gives you an idea of how big it is.

 
She's not only talented, but patient (sometimes).

Two Years

Today marks two years of wedded bliss for me and Art. 
We've never really been married anywhere but Austria.  (Those first two weeks in Houston after the wedding packing up and preparing our move don't count.)  I wouldn't say it's easy to get married and move across the world to another country, but I would say it's been well worth it.
  
Our relationship has grown so much in the past two years.  Like my friend Amber says, "When you come here, you are really stripped of everything familiar"... and I have found it gives you sort of a fresh start and clean slate to build the life that you both want.  It's not easy living life without your friends and family around, but it does allow you to focus on what you both want, no outside pressures or distractions.

It brings you both together, because at first, that's all you really have.  And although every moment isn't bliss, the whole thing's pretty dang wondey.   I love you, Arturo.