Hello, November.

November, to me, is an enigma. A time for reflection, as I often do when confronted with the basis of what we humans call Life. I know at least ten people born in this month. It's one of my busiest times of the year. No different now - I live constantly contemplating endless hair-tearing days.

Yes, work is busy. My thesis is -this- close to jumping off the screen and stabbing me in the eyes. I am tired and I want to crawl under my bed and sleep a month away, and wake up to realise that it's Christmas. Yet I am utterly, invariably breathless at where life has taken me this past year.

Oh, the endless rampage of datelines affixed to work and assignments. Those, I can forego, but this year, in other words, has been a journey. It never gets old, Italy. I swear, I could dream about that place and never wake up. La Morra seems to have captured me mind and spirit, and all I have to do is to look at the pictures I took there to remember just how at peace I felt that morning in the empty square, on my own, overlooking what I perceive to be heaven on earth.



I think that, at the end of the day, is likely the best present I have ever gotten for my birthday. Even if it was a month early.



In other news, barring the La Morra memories, I finally caved today and bought a bottle of Moscato - this particular one is Australian 'pink' Moscato (which, bloody hell, makes it sound so damn girly). It is, I must admit, pretty damn delicious, however.

A delicious blend of this Moscato, plus Light Coke, plus endless chatter with whitey and Phyl served to cheer me up immensely post-long-day-at-work. Note to self: remember to buy this exact same label to bring home for Chinese New Year celebrations.

Another note to self: NEVER EVER misplace Danny's cards again. After thoroughly searching my room, I discovered the first two cards he'd sent me for Valentines' day had gone missing. Guilt. Oh, the guilt.

Ah, well. All the more reason to build new memories, I suppose. Mm.