today, standing in front of a chapters, surveying the parking lot of an outlet mall that stretches as far as the eye can see (or feels like it), i had to smile to myself about how distinctly non-european the whole thing was. i've found myself looking forward to going back to graz, which worries me, because according to all life-plans, i am supposed to be leaving there around this time next year.

despite missing it, though, there is something so different about the people between here and there. maybe it is just the life experiences that i share with people grown on this side of the ocean; maybe it is a language thing. it's not just that we come from different places. or maybe it is-- i don't know. but i feel like no matter how close i get to any of them, there will always be something between us, some invisible membrane that doesn't exist between me and other canadians. maybe it's what discourse feels like.

anyway, i smoked my cigarette outside the chapters, then thoroughly enjoyed steeping myself in english books for a few minutes, before the drudge of holiday shopping kicked in. driving home, music on, singing so loud that t. swift was singing along to me.

i can't stop listening to this song that r. showed me on sunday. i'm happy here, but restless.