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.