Jamas

Guess what?

I'm going home tomorrow. The long awaited day has finally come for me to return to the United States. Thank God.

Who knows if I'll be writing in this blog much from home. It's not like anybody reads it anyway. And I really should be writing in my notebook.

The demons are saying their bedtime prayers in the other room. How strange. This is the first and only time I've seen them bothering with prayers.

Adios, Pozuelo.

I'm never coming back!

too tired to title

Today is just six days until I leave. Six days! I can't wait.

This morning I had a little adventure. Having lost my ATM card to an ATM on Sunday, I have been having some money problems. The bank was supposed to overnight my new card without a problem, but someone filled out the address in Spain wrong, so it was held at FedEx, and then there was no way it was going to make it here in time. So I had my dad wire me some money via moneygram, but that turned into a hassle as well. Eventually, this morning, I was able to make my way to a little bank in Majadahonda where I was finally able to collect some cash.

There are details I'm leaving out here just because I'm exhausted. I've been up forever and I didn't sleep well last night.

But, today was not so bad. It had its annoying/tense/frustrating moments, but in the end it was one of the more bearable days. Perhaps in part because I am leaving in six days to go home. And perhaps also in part because I am going to Barcelona tomorrow afternoon.

Oh sweet jesus, I cannot wait to be on my way to Barcelona!

No news is just that: no news.

Guess what?



I still hate my job.



Eight days to go.

Emotional ADD

Well. This family is absolutely nuts and I can't wait for these nine days to be over. I can't wait to be on that plane headed for JFK. I think I'll feel like dancing, I'll be so happy to be going home.

What is making the next five days bearable is the fact that I am totally headed to Barcelona on Friday night. I have the hotel and the flights and everything. And I cleared it with the family. Miryam said "oh, you could have even left earlier, if you wanted" but it's too late to change the flight now. Besides, I think she's full of shit.

No place like home. No place like home. No place like home.

Barcelona!

10 days

I've been up now for only a couple hours, and already I am bored out of my mind. And when I am bored like this, I am homesick. I am going to go into Madrid today, but I never want to go too early because then I get bored there too, and then I get even more homesick. The goal is to go into the city in the mid to late afternoon, and hang out until 8 or 9pm and then catch a bus back to Pozuelo. That way, by the time I get back here it is almost time for bed, at the very least time to wind down, and so I can hide out in my room for the most part until I fall asleep. That is how my weekends here go anyway.

But, this is my last weekend in Madrid! Thank God! I'm not leaving until next Wednesday, but I'm going to be in Barcelona next weekend, my last weekend in Spain, which should be a lot of fun. Dad got me a nice hotel (4 star; he got a good deal) and I got the plane tickets. I've been reading the guidebook that Erin and Justin got for me before I left, and am really excited to be getting out of Madrid and away from this family for two days and two nights. I don't get back until Sunday night, so I will only have Monday and Tuesday of that week to work, and then I fly home that Wednesday.

So this is my last full week of torture. I cannot wait to go home. I'm homesick and lonely and this trip has not gotten better over time, only worse. For awhile in the beginning it felt like it might be getting better, but then it didn't. And then it got worse. And now it just sucks. I'm miserable, always fighting back tears, I just want to go home.

Never in my life have I wanted a pair of magic ruby red slippers so badly as I do now.

There's no place like home.
There's no place like home.
There's no place like home.

Well, today is Sunday. The family has just left to do whatever it is that they do. I saw the boys but not the parents. Which is partially my fault because I keep my door closed until I have a reason to open it. And rarely do I feel the urge to open it. Only out of necessity. But, once it is open, it stays open until I go to bed. Just in case anybody needs me for anything. Or wants to say hello. Or whatever.

God, I want to go home.

back from Javea

Just 12 more days to go, and I am on my way home sweet home.

We just got back to Pozuelo after spending the past two and a half weeks in Javea. Surprisingly, I enjoyed some of the time there. Cinthia and I had some fun. But mostly I counted the days until we would return to Pozuelo, and until I can go home.

There's more to say, for sure, but it's late and I am tired. I need a shower. I am looking forward to that. There was no hot water in Javea, which made bathing properly treacherous. Very unpleasant. But we're back in Pozuelo now, where I'm pretty sure hot water still abounds.

12 days 12 days 12 days....

naivete

Never again. That much is for sure. Never again am I putting my sanity on the line like this. Never again am I trusting another family's decency. Because appearances are always decieving.

"Oh, but we are giving you the best! The best room, best towels, the best house. Star treatment! How can you throw it back in our face?"

Because you can't see me, can you? You never took into account that you were allowing another person to enter your lives. Another person with another perspective and another way of doing things. That is not to say that I am not open minded. Jesus am I trying my darndest to roll with the punches, to go with the flow, to take things lightly. But in turn, I ask for a little respect, and a little understanding. Understand that I'm learning. That you need to commincate with me. That I am not a mind reader.

Now she's talking about me, I'm sure. About last night. About the disaster that is me. If you are so frustrated with me, so disappointed, so furious, then fire me. Do something. Because I'm out of options. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to appeal to you. I'm sorry you thought I was someone I'm not. But you should have asked me questions about myself from the beginning. If tennis is important to you, why didn't you tell me so? If I was supposed to be athletic to please you, you should have said something from the get go. Because I could have told you that I am none of these things. That I can't play tennis. That I am not athletic. That I like quiet things and books, and respect. And we could have stopped wasting each other's time a year ago.

But no. No, you said nothing. And now what? It's too late, is it not? Already a year of our lives are gone, money has been spent and impressions have been changed. So now what? Do you want me to quit? I can't. I don't have enough money to get home. But if you'll pay for my ticket, take me to the airport, fine with me. I'd be happy to leave. I'd leave tonight.

Still, no. Of course not.

Dear God, get me out of here.

i hate this job. i just want to go home.

sick for home

every morning here is hard. i wake up and feel sick to see i am still here in pozuelo. i want to sleep all day, to sleep until september 12th, but i can't. so i don't know what to do with myself and i just want to cry.

why is this getting harder? this was supposed to get easier as time went on. it probably doesn't help that my wallet was stolen on sunday night so i have this feeling that now i've permanantly lost part of my life to this summer and i hate it. hopefully my bank card and credit card will be here by the end of the week, but waiting is hard and i won't have proper identification (save passport, which i'd prefer not to take out of my closet in case it gets stolen) until i can get home and sort it out at the DMV.

this summer just sucks. i keep saying that and then feeling guilty because not all of it is miserable. but the miserable experiences far out number the good ones. i miss my home so much i can't think straight, see straight, talk straight. my stomach is always tied up in knots. sometimes i can't hold tears back and other times i wish i could cry because maybe then i would feel better. i know i could probably ask miryam to use her phone to call my parents some afternoon, but i'm afraid hearing their voices would just make me more sad. i got to call them on sunday when my wallet was stolen and could barely keep it together; wanting so badly just to talk but having instead to try to remember everything that was in my wallet that needed to be cancelled or replaced.

not to mention, my sim card info for my phone was in my wallet. so unless i get a new sim card i can't put anymore money on the phone which means i can't call anyone from it. luckily all my friends are back in the states, so it's not like i'll really have anyone to call. and i can still recieve calls on it. so it will really be just for getting in touch with jose or miryam if i need to.

today is officially five weeks until i get to go home. which means tomorrow i've officially been here for eight. which means i'm in the home stretch. and yet five weeks is a really long time. i keep thinking of it in chunks: one more week here before javea, two and some weeks in Javea, and then a little under two weeks back here after javea.

but still, this is really hard, you know?

metaphor for summer

nearly lost my mind last week; too much time sin break.

had great weekend; shopped til i dropped and partied til daybreak and my busride home.

rounded out sunday evening by being accosted by a homeless man and having my wallet stolen.

sometimes life really sucks balls.

at least today the demons are off to their cousin's house at 1pm and they won't be back until tomorrow.

a little karma?

another night in pozuelo

After sending my parents a depressing email in which I basically said that I was miserable and hated being here and am counting the days until I can come home (all of which is true), I actually had a nice evening.

Javier and Aidita came over with Paloma and Iciar for Paloma's birthday (she's 8). I spent the first part of the evening crying over my computer as I wrote home while the children frolicked in the backyard and swimming pool. But, after a good cry, I decided it would be rude of me not to go down and at least say hello because I really do like Aidita and Javier and their kids. And of course, as soon as I went and sat with them all, I felt better. I mean, I still needed the good cry I had earlier, but it was nice to be able to relax and let myself enjoy this family, even if it isn't mine and they are really strange sometimes.

Also, Jose's aunt, the rich one, Maribella, was here. And she ended up being pretty nice too. Still kind of snobby, but it seemed like everyone took her with a grain of salt, which made things more well, relaxed. Maribella smokes like a chimney and grew up with real servants (uniforms and all) and doesn't believe that meat and seafood should be mixed (so much for surf and turf!). She's actually kind of funny, interesting really. I think I like her (though Aida and Javier are still my favorite people).

Anyway, this is all to say that even when I feel like I can't take it anymore, I always can.

Tomorrow Cinthia and I are going into the city to shop a bit. In my long email to mom and dad I said that I wished there was something I could do for Cinthia because she's really kept me sane all these weeks and I'd be even more miserable without her. Mom wrote back and said I should get her something or take her out to lunch and just put it on the card and she will pay for it (up to like fifty dollars). What Cinthia really needs is a watch, because she broke her old one when she fell (leaped...) in the pool (it wasn't waterproof). So, if I can, I'm going to steer her in the direction of the swatch store (there's one across from fnac) and get her to look at all the watches and find out which ones she likes best. Then I will come back and buy one for her and surprise her. I think she'll like it. And it's something she really does need. And I think it's something she wants.

So yeah, that's the plan. And tomorrow night is for hanging out with Lauren (yea!). And at some point I really, really need some more books (I'm on my last one again). J&J isn't open on Sundays. I'm not sure if I'll be able to go on Saturday with Cinthia, so if not I will definitely go next Saturday. Because after that we go back to Javea.

Bueno.

a few thoughts

It's crazy; everybody is getting married. Okay, just two people that I know of (that's two separate couples), but still. So young!

And yet, no one can say that they are too young. Weird.

Anyway, I continue to hate my job. But, last night was kind of fun. Jose's loaded snobby aunt came and took the family out to dinner, but had no interest in me. Which was a relief. The last thing I wanted was to have to go out with them at 9:00pm. So after they left Cinthia and I made a delicious little dinner for just the two of us. And then we prank called her boyfriend. It was utterly immature and utterly hystercal. I love Cinthia. I think she's going to be the only person I will miss from this whole bloody experience. Her, and maybe baby Miryam.

Today was tiring, as per usual. And this evening Jose came home early to take the boys to the Museo del Prado. He asked if I wanted to come along and, because of a previous conversation in Javea, I really had no choice but to say yes. But I like the museum and I got ice cream. So not all is lost.

Really, more than anything I am exhausted.

Oh, and my god these people are gross! When I confronted Jose about the children bathing (or lack thereof) he asked, "why didn't you give them a bath this morning?" I said that I thought it stupid to give them a bath in the morning when they were just going to get sweaty and gross again right away. To which he responded, "yes, but it's better than nothing." This I could not argue with, so I asked "so do you want me to give them a bath every morning? Because I really think it would be better in the evenings because..." but he cut me off to say: "no, of course not every morning, only when they need it." Like those children ever don't need a bath? Jesus, it's the motherfucking summer, for christ's sake! As far as these people are concerned, the children only need to bathe once a month, if that! In Javea they didn't bathe for a whole week! And that was after being in the ocean and playing in the sand on the dirty public beach everyday too!

Good Lord, I cannot wait until this gig is over. Today is officially six weeks until I get to get on a plane and fly far, far, far away from Pozuelo.

Good riddance.

Counting Days

I know it's been awhile, but there are reasons. I was in Javea until Sunday night and have been/am still too exhausted/sweaty/frustrated to write about nothing or something.

Basically, I hate my job and have given up on ever liking these people. Last Thursday night Miryam and Jose had a "talk" with me about my "performance." They basically said they wanted me to do more with the kids, like take them to movies and play with them at the club. I said "well, I can't take them to the movies because you live in the middle of fucking nowhere." Or something to that end. And then I tried desperately to explain to them that I am not going to be their soccer/tennis/padel playmate. I'm not athletic. I'm happy to take them to the club so they can play there with each other, but I am not running after them 24/7. In the end, I think these people are idiots. When I said, you know, I've been asking all year, "what do you want me to do while I'm here" they said, "yes, we like that you ask such good questions." Well, that's great, but maybe you should FUCKING ANSWER THEM. I don't ask questions just to hear the sound of my own voice. Jesus.

Anyway, there are more details to that conversation that account for my constant frustration, but I'm too bored with it to write it again in here when I've already vented about it in my real journal. Suffice to say I think these people are idiots but am holding my tongue and doing my best to accomodate them until I can go back home in September. I'd quit, but I'm already halfway through this and it costs money to change my flight and I haven't been reimbursed for the original flights yet to begin with.

So that's that. I'm not sure what else to say now. It's hot and this stupid family doesn't have air conditioning, so I haven't slept in a few nights. Not even a fan. I think I'm going to by a small one for myself the next time I am in the city, if I can. Because this is fucking ridiculous.

It's a 100 degrees and all I want to do is sleep.

WHAT THE FUCK???

this is very annoying. the kind of annoying that gets ones stomach into knots because there is nothing one can do about it. the kind of annoying that makes you want to throw punches and scream and kick and cry because this is the kind of annoying that JUST ISN'T FAIR.

jose kept saying, again and again, that the family (and myself, naturally) would be going to Javea in the LAST WEEK of july. this is important because i really have only one person whom i can hang out with in this country, and she leaves in the beginning of august. so to have one finaly jaunt in the city, to bars, to clubs, to the park, is practically completely necessary for my survival.

[yes, i am being a bit melodramatic here. but my current angst calls for melodrama. if you don't like it, stop reading here.]

so tonight i find out that the family actually intends to leave THIS saturday. i will have you know that THIS saturday is absolutely NOT THE LAST saturday in JULY. In fact, there are a whole TEN DAYS left to july after this saturday.

you're thinking, so what, your plans are thrown off a bit? whatever, right? WRONG. so we go to javea THIS saturday, for TWO WEEKS and by the time we get back it's days into august and the one person who i get to hang out with on the weekends is GONE. and the following six weeks left in this country are even harder, more boring, lonely, than the first six.

get it?

i am FURIOUS. i am so mad i just can't get enough caps in this damn post. and there's no one to complain to and nothing i can do about it.

but i am FUMING, just so you know.

twilight zone?

this blog is driving me crazy. i keep trying to post and my posts keep disappearing. i'll be amazed if this one makes it.

position

things are not well here in monteclaro.

it's cinthya's birthday today. she was really upset and sad and missing her family all day. there's not much i can do for her, but i went to mercadona and got some dessert and some party umbrella things (the ones in cocktails) and stuck them in the top of the pudding and came back here and sang her "happy birthday." she gave me a big hug and we sat and ate our pudding and talked for an hour or so, and she seemed a little happier.

but of course, nothing good lasts.

so miryam comes home and doesn't even say happy birthday but does say that cinthya will only be getting one week off for vacation this year. cinthya is good at holding it all in, but as soon as miryam and the family had gone off "on a walk" she came outside and told me what happened and i could tell she was near tears. it was awful. she's so homesick and so lonely and so stuck here. at least i get to go home in two months. but cinthya's got no working papers and no hope of saving enough money to get back to bolivia and support her family.

as for miryam and jose, sometimes they are just stereotypical shady white people. it makes me sick. i hate to see middle class families, who even have "help" in the first place, abuse the very people they rely on the make their lives work. if it weren't for cinthya, these people wouldn't have more than cheese and crackers for dinner every night. they wouldn't have a well kept house. they wouldn't be able to keep themselves clothed and fed, frankly.

so it's just plain awful to see cinthya so upset when she deserves so much better. she's the one who makes the wheels turn in this house, but she's the most underappreciated member of the household. i wish i could do something about it all, or at least better communicate how much i appreciate her, but my spanish is still pretty bad so all i can do is listen and shake my head and hope that she understands that i'm on her side. that i appreciate her and would not be able to make it through this summer without her.

gosh, now i feel like crying.

i just wish so much that there was something i could do.

orgazma

I am officially in love with !!! and it's lead singer, Nic Offer. The man exudes sex. I'm not sure how else to explain it. He's not you're typical gorgeous hunk of man meat, but seeing him perform live was practically a sexual act in itself. AMAZING.

I saw !!! at summercase, of course. But being tired and sad that it was all over delayed the overall reaction, which is "whoaaaa." I mean ALL the bands were amazing, some more than others, but mostly each one (that I saw) was great in its own way. But right now I just can't wait to see !!! live again, whenever that may be. I need to find more people who think they are amazing so I we can go and dance and love love love them together.

Well, now that that's out of the way.

What, you want I should cry?

I'm a little less bitter tonight. Perhaps it is because I had two real meals today. And because I am more caught up on sleep. And because I had a nice long talk with Cinthya this morning and a nice little chat with Jose and Miryam this evening. And because I'm going to get my period in the morning and everything is always better after the pms has passed.

Now, that is not to say that I don't hate the suburbs anymore. Because boy, do I ever. Even the supermarket, Mercadona, was closed for some stupid reason today, so there was really NOTHING to do. I even walked all the way over there to stare blankly at the darkened aisles before remembering that I'd seen the signs last week and meant to remind myself.

Dickweed.

But anyway. I'm going to get through this week, and the next, and the next. I just get so so so frustrated sometimes, you know? You know.

I wrote a long and winding email to mom and dad today, and then had back and forth email with dad for a bit this evening. I really do love him more from a distance. I can appreciate him a lot more from across the atlantic.

I gave in and downloaded Jarvis Cocker too. It won't be long before I download more Flaming Lips, !!!, and whatever else I can't live any longer without. I also finished Prodigal Summer, which is like 'best book ever' material. Now I'm on to Bonfire of the Vanities. Good thing I made it to the bookstore on Saturday. I'm afraid I should stock up still more next weekend.

Anyway, I guess there's nothing more to be said. I've been feeling profound and deep for moments at a time, but clearly this is not one of those moments. Now I'm just tired.

What else is new?

On Empty

I feel like crying and screaming at once and I'm not altogether sure why. I do think it has something to do with eexhaustion though at this point I have slept enough today that I should no longer be exhausted. Which leaves me what? Where?

Summercase was wonderful and fun and so full of great music I can't even complain about passing out during Jarvis Cocker or missing Arcade Fire when Lauren got sick because sitting down in the microclimate (god I love that term) with water and random Spanish folk made every minute worth it.

[Methinks, perhaps, there is some sadness/depression/inescapable fear because the event highlight of my summer is now come and gone.]

I am hungry. Several media noches from Rodilla and an empanada from Moncloa would do the trick, but I am too lazy/tired/late to go into Madrid for mere sandwiches and come back again. Yet another reason why the suburbs are subpar. If only there were someplace to get a damned bocadillo in this all too American landscape of highway and backyard houses on a Sunday afternoon (evening now?).

I am peeling, too. Ashes to ashes; I cannot seem to apply enough lotion to keep my body from flaking apart.

Which brings me to the tears and screams. I miss my bed, my room, my family, my language, and my proximity to city streets and busy stores more than I can handle right now. It is not the same homesickness that I felt for the first couple weeks here. No, I just wish I could have a break from it all. A week at home. Or for this summer to be over with the promise of a return to Spain and job and friends here in the coming year.

But that is far from likely. Which means I need to suck it up and try to love every minute I have here in this country, even if I am stuck here in no man's land.

What a couple of days.

A Note on Horchata

Horchata. Not Mexican rice milk. In fact, drink made from chufas, in valencia. I am certain.

So there is this delicious thing that I've had here in Madrid a couple of times and it is called horchata. And everytime I tried to ask somebody what it really is, they can't explain it properly. Mostly because there is no such thing in the U.S. Or, what there is, is stolen from Spain and it's former colonies. So I googled the damn thing and found out what it really is, and what it's latin offspring are as well.

Apparently horchata is made from chufa. Yes, chufa. It's sort of a nut and it is grown primarily in Valencia, but also in Egypt, from what I can gather. So you mush up the chufa with water and some sugar and maybe some cinnamon and voila, you have horchata.

But in Mexico and other Latin American countries Horchata is also a name for a sort of sweet rice milk. Which I've never had but can only imagine is quite tasty.

In the end, what I really want right now, is some really good rice pudding. Yes, rice pudding. Not horchata (delicious as it may be). But oh, some warm, homemade, rice pudding would be spectacular.

Damn, I wish I had American Beauty on my computer too.

SPEC TAC U LAR...

If I'd wanted to go to Westchester, I'd have hopped on MetroNorth

Let's see...

I want to kill the 5 year old. Jose is getting better and better, but Alvaro just makes me want him to disappear. He doesn't listen to anybody, and just likes to argue, and not even really argue, he just says no to absolutely everything. He doesn't respond to being yelled at, punnished, reasoned with, talked to, slapped upside the head...nada. Just the look of the dirty little brat makes me want to kick his ass.

And don't give me that shit about "oh, he's only 5." You try dealing with him for three months and tell me how you feel about him.

Zaragoza was fine, certainly an experience. It was good to see another part of Spain, but in the end we spent all our time in the suburban gated shit, and the kids ran wild. It's a good thing I know more of Spain than this suburban crap, because it would not be a worthwhile country if suburbs were all there was.

But anyway, after three torturous hours in the car with the demons trying to get back to Pozuelo, it's amazing one of them hasn't been strangled.

Not to mention, now the baby is getting on everyone's nerves because she cries everytime she's not with Cinthya, Miryam or Jose. Methinks she is not a traveller, this baby. How the hell we're ever going to get through Javea is beyond me. I prefer not think about it lest I implode.

Friday is Summercase. Thank God.

Americana

There are fireworks outside my window! From mercadona? No se. But I'm smiling.

4th of July: better late than never, eh?

demonitos

Number 1 reason why light switches should be inside the same room as the light: So that little demon children cannot turn the lights off from outside a closed door while one is in the middle of shaving ones legs.

Demons, I tell you.

But anyway. I don't think I am going to make it into Madrid this week, as I have not yet and tomorrow we leave for Zaragosa for three days. But I really NEED to go into Madrid to get more books in English (I am officially on my last one), to put more money on my phone (don't want to run out of minutes during summercase), and to get a new 10 ride bus ticket (way cheaper and easier than paying a euro fifty in change everytime I take the bus). Also, I would like to have a day to go shopping. Just for fun. A little stress relief, if you will.

Other than deciding that Europeans are backward for having light switches on the wrong side of the wall, I suppose everything is all right. We had fish for dinner tonight, the kind with the head and bones and skin and everything, which I must say is not my favorite. But it's not bad once you get over the grossness of it. Actually, I am learning to like fish quite a bit here.

They eat a lot of it.

Bed time?

Expletive

There is no doubt that by the time I go to sleep tonight I will have eaten two boxes of estrella cookies. Which is just wrong. I suppose I eat them because they are delicious, but methinks it is also out of boredom and frustration as well. So after these ones are gone, there will be no buying more. Not for a while anyway.

What can I say? It's boring as all hell here in Pozuelo. The kids haven't bathed in over a week, which just absolutely disgusts me. The parents don't seem to care at all. And I can barely get the brats to change out of their pyjamas in the morning, so I don't dare try to fight them into the goddamn bathtub. I don't understand people who think swimming in a chlorinated pool is enough. Unless there is a bar of soap involved, and it is worked into a lather and smeared all over ones body, it does not count as bathing.

So that's irritating. And this morning the brats took almost two hours to do their work. And it wasn't because they had a whole lot of work to do either. The both of them just like to stare off into space too much. So tomorrow, there is going to be a ton of work to do. I don't care if it takes Jose five fucking hours: he needs to learn to focus.

Oh I just get so frustrated thinking about those demons! So enough of that. It's already nearing the end of Wednesday, thank god. I would love to be able to go into the city this weekend, at least for one day (and one night?), but cannot of course. Because this weekend we are ALL going to Zaragosa on Friday and not coming back until late Sunday. I don't really know what to expect, but I'm thinking more than anything that I am going to be bored out of my mind. My guess is that they are going to be visiting old friends and such (they used to live there) and I am just going to be dragged along. Which is silly, in my opinion. Why not just give me the damn weekend off and I will be able to come and go to Madrid as I please and relax and have a good time. And I hope I'm not stuck babysitting the brats all night Friday and Saturday either. If I am, there better be a television. Or else I may just implode.

I need to go and do something fun, goddammit! I'm going crazy here in Pozuelo! I love Madrid, and wish I could at least go to Barcelona and Sevilla, and nice places, but no. No. I am stuck here all the goddamn time. I will be so mad at the end of this trip when I have not made it to Barcelona.

Oh, I am just getting so angry now!

I need to go and read or something to get my mind off all this shit.

gorda y cansada

Man am I tired these days! I didn't wake up until ten this morning, and it was hard as hell even at that hour. Then, this afternoon, I slept off and on from 2:30 until almost five. Both times I had the weirdest dreams. Dreams when you think you are awake and are sorely dissapointed to find you are not. Those dreams are annoying, dammit.

Other than being ridiculously tired for no real good reason (yesterday sure, but today?), today was pretty good. Simple. I had to go to the centro commercial to pick up a book that Jose needs to have done by the end of the summer. It's in Spanish, but he had to catch up from last week, so I had him work on that for an hour or so, and then did just a little bit in English. Alvaro was enthusiastic about the idea of getting to work like Jose, but was more than a little difficult in action. Still, not bad in the end. And mealtimes are getting better. Less disgusting and frustrating as hell.

So like I've predicted for myself all along, every day gets better. I mean, there are ups and downs, but over all there's been a steady incline. I'm feeling more and more comfortable here and learning to assert my independence a little bit, so things are coming along.

I've got to stop buying these little estrella cookies though. They are so damn tasty but when I have them I eat them like they are going out of style. I've eaten like four or five packs today. And each pack has six little cookies in it. So it's like eating ten or so oreos. Which means there's no way I can lose weight. So yeah. But once these boxes are gone, then I'm okay. It's just when I have them...

Man, I love me some cookies.

Guess there's not much more to today than that.

(mellow) Amarillo

Three more hours and then I get to sleep. I think.

Spent last night in Madrid.

Afternoon in Retiro, where the hippies are. It was faaabulous. Drum circles, dreads, good looking boys all over the place. Also, lot's of Americans! Surprise. Ate jamon bocadillo, empanada (had tomatoes and peppers and stuff and was most delicious in the world), and palomira con chocolate. And a beer. Life was good.

Fell asleep on Lauren's floor after snacking at canas y tapas and smoking morroccan hash. Woke up at six in the am and took first bus back to suburban hell. Which is less hellish when you're still mellowed out from the night before. I need to get out more.

I've been sneaking off for power siestas all day, but still cannot wait until that blessed time when I am bathed and pyjamaed myself, and ready for sleep.

Two weeks until Summercase!

Rapido

Dios Mios

I have the wondows wide open in my room because it's stiflingly humid up here for some reason. This house has central air, but my room never seems to get any of it. So, to hell with intruders, insects of various shapes and sizes; I need air.

[I have killed three mosquitos since Monday, and I've felt guilty about every one. What's wrong with me? I'm a meateater for chrissake.]

Jose and Miryam have gone out tonight with Miryam's brother and sister in law, leaving Cinthya and I with four absent minded wild children. But, after a frustratingly eventful dinner, the kids (all four) are tucked into Miryam and Jose's bed, pyjamaed and fed, watching Star Wars. Right now the kids are excited and can't stop talking (A movie! Cousins! What a night!) but methinks they'll be sound asleep by midnight. Mehopes, anyway.

My Spanish is vastly improving, but everytime I start to think I understand pretty well, somebody says something to me and I can't do anything but stare blankly and wait for someone else to translate.

[Uh oh. I hear the pitter patter of little feet...why the hell are the little demons out of that bed? What could they possibly need to be standing up for?]

But anyway. Tomorrow I venture to Aluche to buy myself a phone. I really, really, really hope somebody in whatever store I end up in, speaks English. Because I really, really, really do not want to be taken for the stupid American that I am. What I want is simple: a cheap phone and prepaid minutes. Nothing fancy.


Chao.

Conned

I just bought what is probably the most expensive sunblock on the planet. I am a stupid American. But why do pharmacies here have to be so chic? And why couldn't I just find some coppertone type shit in the supermarket?

I only wanted spf 15 or something too. I hope all I got was 20, at most. But I think it may be as high as 40. The ridiculous thing is that it doesn't say what spf it is on the damn bottle, and I can't remember what the pharmacist lady said it was. Anyway, this shit needs to last me all summer. And I better not still look like white bread at the end of the summer either. When and where and how much sunblock to apply this summer is going to be an arduous task.

Jesus. I miss coppertone.

In other news, I think I can get those two days in July off for the concert. I asked Miryam last night, and she said it wouldn't be a problem and that they would even drive me to and from. Although I don't know what will happen with that offer since the thing starts at 6pm and ends at 6am. But whatever, we'll see. I still have to figure out getting the tickets this weekend (Saturday, before the prices go up).

Jose came home early today (4pm for christ's sake) and took the kids to the "club." Fine with me. I was invited to come along, but I always feel so pathetic there. I just sit around with all the adults staring blankly because I can barely understand what they are talking about. Not to mention they're all like 40 and suburban. They even have big stupid SUV's here, just like in the States. There's no escaping them.

So I'm here, Cinthya's downstairs listening to the radio, and I can't get rid of these goddamn hiccups. Ipos, as they're called in Spanish.

I'm bored off my ass.

white collar

Okay, so sometimes I am perfectly happy here. Sometimes I even like eating fish every night of the week. And sometimes Cinthya (I can never get the Spanish spelling right, but this time I checked) makes the best scalloped potatoes and onions.

Sometimes.

Such is life. This morning felt like torture, and lunchtime with the demons is barely tolerable. But afternoons lounging by the pool with one eye in a book and one eye on the splashing demons, are not so bad. And, hopefully, I will get a day this weekend to go about Madrid. And hopefully I can get July 13 & 14 off. And then I can buy tickets for summercase.

How much fun could that be?

And maybe one of these days stopping in an English book store and finding some more good reads. I've gone through 2 1/2 books already, and it's not even July. I only brought 4.

Ay. Ya. So it goes.

Mosquitos

These children are demons. Constantly hitting, yelling, running wild. No respect for, well, anything. At all. In ten minutes I've got to try to get the elder one, at least, to sit down and do some math work in English for an hour. It's torture for both of us.

So how am I doing here in Spain? Hard to say. It varies. I have made a friend, which is nice. And perhaps I may be able to go to a music festival in two weeks. So do I love Spain? Yes. Do I love my job? No, not so much. The family is very nice overall, and the baby is wonderful, but the two little boys are complete demons. Thank god for the other woman who works here, Cinthia. Her main responsibility is to clean the house, cook, and take care of the baby, but she helps me with the boys a lot. And she's fun to talk to, at least when my Spanish is good enough.

Oh, and I hate living out here in Pozuelo. It's like being stuck in Westchester. And it's not like you can do anything nice with the kids, like take them to a park or into the city for the day, because they really just do not know how to behave in public. These are the kind of kids one might resort to hitting just to get a point across. But I am a solid believer in "fear." Fear me, dammit. Just from the tone of my voice. The tone of my voice and the expression on my face should be enough to scare them into calming down and behaving at least a little less than devilishly.

All day, Cinthia and I roll our eyes at each other and sigh "los ninos son muy disobedientes."
So yeah, right now, at this moment, I kind of hate my job.

I need to do something fun this weekend.

roja con un nuevo reloj

The sun does not set here until after 10pm. Lunch isn't until 3pm; dinner not until 9pm. And apparently the spontaneous arrival of grandparents at 9:20pm is much ado about nothing. When do people here sleep? They don't.

My shoulders, back, arms and face son roja. Muy roja. I swear left and right that it will be brown in the morning, but nobody seems to believe me. But you are American! You need crema! Just in case, I think I will venture to la mercadona and get some sunblock tomorrow. Also, cookies and various sugary cereals. Can you believe they have a cereal here that is like a sugared biscuit filled with chocolate and miniaturized? I can't believe it's for breakfast! I thought Americans had topped the "disgustingly unhealthy breakfast" category; but then, this is a country known for Churros con Chocolate for breakfast. So what do Americans know?

Anyway, the days here are long, the nights are short, and I am always tired. But I am loving it. Tonight I ate a deep fried sardine for dinner. Skin and bones and head and all. And something that looked like grey worms but tasted like fishy buttered spaghetti. I wouldn't touch the stuff if you gave it to me in the U.S., but here I just chalk it up to experience. And actually, it's all been quite tasty so far, fish heads and all.

I finally got my squiggly swatch via correos today, a gift from my mother. It is an original 1987 spring/summer edition swatch, in mint condition. And best of all, completely waterproof. Not to mention, it's called "tutti frutti." What's not to love?

I guess that's all. Not very exciting, is it? Last week was much more exciting, but I didn't have a blog then. I figured out the suburban busses, the metro; went to museums and gardens; walked from one end of Madrid to the other and back again....

But this week? Kids in the sun.

Empezar?

Well, it's after 11pm here, and I am exhausted. Somehow in rediscovering the wondrousness (is that even a word?) of AIM, I also found my old livejournal crap. Upon realizing that I had no idea what my password for livejournal was, I decided I didn't really need to see it again anyway. All that angsty, hormonal ranting and raving? No thank you.

But I am in Spain for the summer. And what do people do when they go to other countries for extended periods of time? They start blogs to chronicle their every move. Always interesting? No. But I think in this respect I am going to follow the crowd and start a blog for my time here in Spain. Why not?

It's not like you have to read it.
But you might want to. Once in awhile.

So here's to the beginning, 10 days in.

Good night.