(Hang in, I assure you this story is more than a brutal reiteration of me depositing a cheque into my still-anorexic bank account)
I fail to exaggerate when I say that the teller, a bespectacled grandmotherly-type, pounced on me as if I were her own flesh & blood. In her defense, she was quite sweet about it. She also felt compelled to shower me with a torrent of questions about my life et. al., all the while clasping my hand over the counter in both of her own. I am actually laughing now as I realize how strange slash funny we must have looked to the flurry of people all around us...who, more likely than not, thought that I was confessing my sins to her, or some such thing. Anyways. Tears virtually glittered in my now-(apparently)BFF's eyes when she extracted the fact from me that I had just traveled through Europe. And, ridiculous as this may sound, her heartfelt excitement disarmed me. Initially, it weirded me out just a little, but then it hit me like a weapon--she was right. This random person who had known me 8-12 minutes, had a perspective that has eluded me...one of wonder and acknoweldgement of the significance of where I have been these past few months. Ironically, she was a breath of fresh air...this encounter that started with me wondering how I could slide myself away from it ended up turning into something real and necessary for me. I tore myself away from her revived and smiling. Jewel, that one.
And so, continuing the theme of cherished times had and indescribable experiences whilst hanging out all over a continent not my own, here are a few more stills...some of the best that had been evaded in the mess of photo organization. Enjoy, if you will.
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My kitchen is dirt-streaked and calling. Pots and pans, broom and rubber gloves await.
I am off to oblige.
Embraces, and such.
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