2005-12-30 - 5:50 p.m.
So I'm here in Prague with Josh. It's really dark right now and it starts to get this dark around 4 p.m. Yikes bikes. The city is lovely, the snow is cold, and the snuggling at night? Is much appreciated. Particularly by myself.
One of the best parts about Prague is the show I get every morning in the hostel eating area called 'French Breakfast.' French Breakfast is the name I've given to an older man and a youngeresque woman who are staying at the hostel and eat breakfast at the same time Josh and I do. While the hostel provides granola, yogurt, rolls, and other healthylike things (it's not greasy eggs or potatoes for once, Turkmenistan!), French Breakfast eat not only their alloted food from the hostel but also haul an enormous bag full of breakfast food as well. They then lay out an enormous table of food for themselves and spend about 45 minutes eating breakfast with a zeal I've never seen in America and can thus assume is thoroughly French. The man is particularly amusing because he has this dancing, childlike look in his eyes as he attacks his food with an enormous vigor--throwing the jam onto bread, ripping the rind from oranges, spinning the spoon around the yogurt cup with a unusually hard flick of the wrist. While I find French Breakfast to be unusually amusing and assume that all French people eat their petit dejeuner with such flair, I think Josh is getting a little tired of me constantly talking about them. Perhaps I need a new conversation topic.
Have a happy new year, all, and I will see you soon back in Turkmenistan. If you're passing through or anything.
