i've put off writing about this for a long time, and i have nothing else to do tonight. i think i can feel september settling in... on my last evening in armenia, my aunt and cousin took me to a restaurant called Old Yerevan. we ate in the basement, which was decorated to look like an old armenian house. there was lavash hanging from the ceiling,
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I wish I was ethnic, but actually this time. Makes me want to visit Ireland and Norway.
But in a way, doesn't memory sort of distort the truth? The brain has this way of remembering the beautiful and forgetting the crappy and mediocre - which makes sense when you think about it, go brain! Anyway, that works if you're going to vacation somewhere, so you'll take the good from an experience... But I'm sure living there would be quite a different reality. Personally I enjoy taking my restaurant leftovers home (poor starving wretch that I am)!
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I'm glad you had this experience, I wish the many times i had been to mexico it was even half of this, or a 5th or anything other than sitting on the sidewalk while my parents went to a bar.
heh.
I've deleted and rewritten this last paragraph 5 times already. this time, what ever I type is staying. It's odd, that a simple thing like folk music(or traditional? what ever) and atmospheres you only imagine in your dreams can be one of the most insightful and inspiring things of your life, and all you had to do was something you've wanted to do for longer than I have known you, go home.
You're like Dorothy, or Alice, or Richard Mayhew, or who ever else. Go you.
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