Christmas in Madrid

Light Show

Let me tell you one thing—Christmas this year was the bomb. Now, it was no family Christmas with the knowledge that most of the rest of the people I care about live in the same valley or one state over. While the ocean did present its emotional difficulties, I still really enjoyed my Christmas. As mentioned 75,000 times before, Kristin and Jeremy came to visit for about five days and we had a blast. We walked around the city looking at old buildings and beautiful parks. We went to the Christmas market. We played jillions of games of Euchre, Rook, and Nerts. We cooked tons of good food. We went to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve (technically Christmas Day, I suppose) in the gorgeous cathedral by the palace. We ate churros and chocolate. We went to a wild version of The Ugly Duckling—in Spanish and including break dancing along with ballet. We went to the Prado (and yes K & J found the lactating Virgin Mary painting). On Christmas day, we woke up really late (10:45), opened our stockings and then made a rad breakfast. Unfortunately for one sweet rolls recipe I read one tablespoon of salt instead of one teaspoon but they were salvageable…just pretty salty. We ate royally and then attacked the presents. Thanks to everyone for all the zesty items you sent! Um, seriously, between Astin and I, we got 11 boxes of tea. This is especially excellent because the tea here is awful. It’s the weakest tea in the whole world, perhaps. We’ve bought zillions of types and they’re all lame. But NOW we are enjoying cup after cup of full-strength almost-heaven. This has consequences later, at say 3:00 in the morning, but it’s fun while it lasts. After presents we all stumbled to various locations for a nap. Then later that evening we went to a free concert which was rocking. Okay, not literally rock music, but I am struggling with the adjectives today. No, it was an awesome opera-style singer and a string quartet. Salve for the soul. Then we went on a self-guided light tour. All in all, it was a beautiful time. Two extra people made all the difference in the world for what would have otherwise been a bleak holiday. I’ll post some pictures above. Woot!

Packages from The Girls, J.A., and S.B.A. are still in-transit but I’ll let you know when they get here! In the meantime, thank you so much to those who called, sent cards, sent packages, sent messages, etc. This week I begin the slow process of thank-you cards and walking off that Christmas candy. :D I hope you had a lovely holiday and I want to hear about it!

The last week before Christmas has come and gone. I hope you are all enjoying time with friends and family and writing ridiculous things on people’s present tags (Anne, carry the torch in my absence, please). I ended all my classes on a good note. Well, I have one more class on the 23rd, and then I will be home free for 2.5 weeks. Yessssss.

Well, this is just a pretty short blog to say that I'm excited for Christmas. Kristin and Jeremy are coming and we're basically going to have a pretty rad and wild time. Sugar cookies, Rook, etc. Feel free to call and wish me salutations during the break.

Other than that, I miss you and wish Spain were not quite so far from the U.S.

Lookit, lookit, lookit

So I have this adult student with an intermediate level. She speaks English well enough for me to teach the class entirely in English with a few specific translations from time to time. But as you may know, a sense of humor is one of the last things to come in learning a language. So much of humor depends on understanding multiple meanings of a word as well as multiple contexts. As you know, my sense of humor relies heavily, if not depends entirely, on word substitution. I do not go grocery shopping. I navigate the plains for suitable food for my tribe, etc. Generally, in lessons, I keep my sense of humor to a bare minimum, only using humorous gestures and body language, etc.

However, I forgot about that in the last lesson with my adult student. I whipped a paper out of my notebook very stylishly and rapidly. With great flair, you might say. So my student laughed and commented and mimicked my gesture, adding some martial arts-like movements of her own. So I said, “That’s right, I’m a martial arts master.” This is when she said (with a very thick Spanish accent that switches “n’s” and “m’s”), “Sonttimes I understan you perfectly. An other tines, I do not understand *laughs to self* one thing that you are saying.” Poor lady, she didn’t stand a chance, and waved her hands in front of her face to indicate dismissal of the whole comment.

Also! I have a dread now. Just one. I like my hair too much as it is to dread my whole head, but I do have one now. See picture below for details and special offers.

Come again?

On the whole, this was a much better week than last week. Thanksgiving is a thing of a past and Christmas planning is very exciting. Kristin and Jeremy are coming for the holiday so we’ll have a little family here. And some vicious Rook tournaments, from what I understand. :D

In order for you to understand how hilarious my students are and how funny teaching can be, I have collected some examples of “English” as provided by my 6 and 8 year old. Bear in mind, I am not making fun of them, believe me as a language learner, I am not making fun of them. Just explaining why teaching is hilarious. I have also provided translations from “English in process” to “English that English speakers understand.” Broosh your drem (make your bed), stecklums (carrot), hahrot (breakfast), aranandeck (rectangle). Now, this is just pronunciation. These girls are not to a spelling level, so the above words are strictly phonetic. The last one, aranandeck, was my personal favorite, because my student was developing a new method. I like to call it, “Just keep adding syllables that resemble sounds you have a vague recollection of. By doing so, eventually you may add enough of the right syllables from the same word.” To be fair however, this was a good week with many, many light bulb moments with my students. I learned that some of my efforts were not in vain. However, the third person and tricky little words like bread and carrot continue to present problems.

I’m posting some pictures from some walks I went on.

Snolidays (Holidays spelled with "sn")

This was my second Thanksgiving abroad. In a row. Thanksgiving isn’t a huuuuge ordeal in my family since we live so far away from our other relatives. It’s a small but insanely delicious gathering of about five people. But I missed it greatly nonetheless. Thanksgiving week was probably the roughest to-date. I taught until 10pm that night and then caught the metro home, arriving at 10:30. Astin and I went to the restaurant next door and had kind-of cold ravioli for the first course and Spanish Tortilla for the second. The night was looking a little doomed but we ended up talking to the staff of the little restaurant and they were so sweet. We talked about English and about family in America and the lady (possibly a co-owner?) gave us her business card and told us to come there for whatever we needed. It was so wonderful. Plus, they gave us a few things on the house, which is always excellent. :D

Many of you may be aware that Christmas falls in the month of December this year. You may be aware that it does this every year. You may not. In preparation for Christmas, some people have sent me some gifts. I have fluffed them and arranged them festively around the tree that we do not have. We went all the way out to IKEA to buy some sort of tall plant that would serve as Christmas tree now and “ambience” later. HOWEVER, it was closed for some holiday we didn’t even know about. So I just arrange the presents around a stool that will later hold a tree. I personally think they already look awesome. I have also cut out some snowflakes to prep for our ambitious decoration plan.

That is all for now. Thanks to those of you who have sent letters and e-mails and boxes. They have been incredibly appreciated.

P.S. In our empty metro car on the way back from the fruitless IKEA trip, Astin and I did cartwheels in the aisles.

Dear Loyal Followers,

As many of you know, I usually post every weekend, usually on Sundays, but NOT last Sunday. This is on account of—a busy week and not much unusual happening. It is also due to the fact that a certain organ of mine was preparing The Monthly Torture Chamber. During such times of preparation I tend to be rather emotional and it is best for me to keep my thoughts to myself.

Now that preparation has ceased and Torture has commenced, I am in much better spirits. The wave of homesickness has, for the most part, passed and I am THOROUGHLY enjoying the packages that arrived from home. Do not worry, Kimberlea, enjoyment of your package consists of just gazing at it longingly and being excited for Christmas morning.

In other news, I have become much more Spanish. This is because I finally, with Astin’s help, chose a pair of boots. Unfortunately the lady gave me the wrong size, so I have to take them back and hope for the best. Now all I need is a dreadlock mullet.

My students continue to crack me up, especially my 6 and 8-year-old girls. Although we have been learning food for three sessions, the 6 year old continues to pronounce “bread” as a very nasally “bron” and carrot as “zano.” This is a great improvement over her usual method which is, “Look like you’re concentrating really hard, open your mouth and utter some kind of sound. Whether this resembles any language known to humankind is unimportant. Just get a sound out at the same time you make a really focused-looking face.” This is the same child who sneezed all over my sticky tack and later on the desk we were using. I thought that was neat.

I have two new students, both adult females. This is very nice because we do things besides oversized flashcards and ridiculous games. I also have a new teenage girl with a really high level—Advanced Level 1. Advanced Level 1 is ludicrously far from “False Beginner.” I tell you this to point out the irony of the “Student Info” card that my work gave me. I arrived with cheesy beginner level games and then spent the whole class speaking with an almost-fluent student. Also neat.

Despite my best efforts, fiercest determinations, and well-laid plans, I remain—

Able to breathe best, feel most peaceful, think clearly—

Outside city limits.

Now, how about that.

On Saturday we took a bus up to El Escorial which is much closer to the mountains. We went to a HUGE monastery/castle. Lots of artwork, architecture, and also wind. We tried to play Frisbee but it was actually, “Aaah! Run quickly after that disc rolling across the courtyard before it knocks over a small child.”

We also saw several dead kings, which Amber felt to be the real selling point of the trip. This is the 3rd museum-ish that I’ve been to so far and it was my favorite. The rooms were different enough to keep my attention. In other places, you can really only look at so many pictures of the crucifixion/the disciples/ugly male rulers before they all start to look the same. That happened at the Prado. My brain was numb. And I only made it through probably 15% of the Prado. The monastery had some paintings/tapestries I recognized as famous, but the Prado had more…like this one.

But my favorite one?

Oh yes. I walked around the corner and almost ran into this. I lau

ghed out loud. Involuntarily. And then I read the info box to see what the joke was, but there’s no joke. It’s real. Whoops.

Anne, remember when I ate the leg off your gingerbread man?

Hark. I bloggeth this day to tell thee of my life. So during weekdays, my life consists mostly of lesson planning, teaching, making flashcards, and cooking. For some reason I seem to make a lot of flashcards. I don’t really have responsibilities on Fridays, so I run various errands/have fun that day. This Friday I went shopping for boots. Some of you have had the horror of shopping with me before and know my deep indecision especially when spending more than 9 dollars. Boots cost much more than 9 dollars. This is the second time I’ve been looking and I still haven’t made any decisions. I just look like a creeper walking back and forth in front of the same store windows. Friday evening, I went out with some friends to a “Mexican” restaurant. I put that word in quotations because the Mexican with us said she’d never seen half the stuff we paid exorbitant prices for. It was one of those gatherings where you invite a few people who invite a few people and you end up with a big hilarious group. I talked more to the people I met that night than the people I came with and a good time was had by all.

Thanksgiving is coming up in a few days and I hope you all have a beautiful holiday with the people you love. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing…there’s a party/potluck with Canterbury, but who knows. For Christmas, I believe Astin’s friends Kristin and Jeremy will be staying with us over the holiday since they have a 5 day layover on their way home from Africa. It should be good times—we already have sugar cookie schemes.

I now have facial hair.

Yes, it's true. I now have a beard. I knew Madrid was a surprising place, but I did not expect to sprout man-hair on my chin.

Things that I like here:

-Recycling, the metro, how I can hear music all over (in the metro station, on the cars, on the streets, at the museums, in my neighbor's apartments), how everything isn't in the same place (I go one place for bread, one place for fruit, etc.), gorgeous old buildings, sunshine, boots, the sandwich lady, walking, learning Spanish (although I haven't learned much), finding new places.

-More later.

What?

Today I ran into a pole. Hard.

In my defense, it was a very short pole. Ironically, it left a very large bruise. That was probably the low point of the day. Other points of varying heights included: taking the final exam of the TEFL course, our teacher not showing up for said exam, finding lower-priced groceries, etc.

Now that the course is over, I will have more time for fun and for essential things like earning an income. I’ll also have more time for lesson planning—like for the hilarious 6 and 8 year old sisters I teach. I went to their house on Tuesday and was all prepared to start the lesson, even though they were completely engrossed in something on the older one’s hand. I start talking only to be interrupted by an insistent, “Looooook!!!” as the oldest one shoved her thumb near her my face. I notice some skin is missing and in my best “adult-who-needs-to-show-proper-horror-at-miniscule-child-wound” voice say, *gasp* “What happened?!” and she replied, solemnly, “The poop.” I withheld my laughter explosion to wait for the rest of the joke, but it didn’t come, so I repeated, “The poop?” to make sure I had heard correctly, and she replied, with a nod, “The poop.” At this point, I am staring at her, and she is staring at me and the wheels are turning in my head. I notice that the missing skin is the approximate shape and size of a blister and the light flashes above my head. “Ooooohhhhh,” I say, “It popped?” Yes, she said, “It popped.” Rest assured, world population, no birds with acidic feces are flying over Madrid, dropping dangerous matter on the thumbs of eight-year-olds.

Kisses and Insolence

Apparently, the word “sick” is difficult for non-native speakers to say. The man can be sack or suck, but he is never sick except for the first time the word is repeated. Then, and only then, is he sick.

I play Go Fish a lot. Sometimes I use regular cards, and sometimes I use cards made from vocabulary flashcards. One of the 6-year-olds (p.s. I believe this phrase is actually six-years-old) I teach struggles with like/have and word order. So we play like this [pronunciation included], “Kaeet, joo laeek a seben?” “No, I do not have a seven, go fish.” Feelings (i.e. happy, sad, hot, cold, etc.) Go Fish took an ironic turn when one girl correctly said, “Kate, do you have a hot man?” This was perfect use of the new vocab adjective and I replied, very truthfully, “No, I do not have a hot man, go fish.” Oh child, little do you know!

Other funny stories including the 6&8 year old sisters—The first day, they were under the impression that I spoke very little Spanish. While this is somewhat true, I understood everything they were saying. Each of us was drawing a picture of our families. When the younger one (I’ll call her Sarah) began to draw her older sister (I’ll call her Helen), the older sister’s eyes landed on the page and she realized that she has been drawn roughly the size of a medium-range dog. They begin talking in Spanish. “Sarah, why did you draw me little?” “I just did.” “Draw me bigger.” “No.” The oldest one then slides her hand across the table and leans in with her best no-nonsense adult voice and taps the table, “Sarah you know that I am older than you, now draw me that way.” [arguing from the younger sister] “SARAH, I’m older than you, and you know it. Draw me that way!” The youngest one resentfully turned the figure into a representation of her infant brother. The size comparison still worked.

As with many younger sisters, however, Sarah was plotting revenge. I saw her narrow her eyes and smile wickedly. She then held up her drawing and said (with a little bit of a taunting voice), “Helen. Whoops. I drew you with a third leg.” I look over for the reaction and notice that a small inferno seems to have ignited in both of Helen’s pupils. To deactivate the situation, I said loudly and in English, “Hey, look, I have a third leg, too.” This startled both of them out of their fight as they tried to figure out what to do with this new weird teacher. Then I decided to draw myself with a fourth leg because three looked awkward. So, Sarah drew a fourth leg on Helen and then gave me the picture. Now, I have two pictures of families where the oldest daughter has four legs. Awesome.

About life in Spain

Dear loyal followers,
Aloha. You may be confused as to why I am using a Hawaiian word when I am Spain. The answer is that I have actually moved to Hawaii. Ha. Just kidding.
I have been converted into a Germ Vacuum Cleaner. Apparently (as is its custom) my body has decided to go around sucking up loose germs and distributing them throughout my system. Thus, Astin and I are both a bit under the weather (hey, sharing is caring, right?). To combat this problem, I have made my special concoction of vinegar, honey, and water. No, it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s worse. But it changes the pH balance of your body so that the germs have a hard time surviving. Scroll up or down (I’m not sure where I’ll post it) and you’ll find the gag reel (gag being used in a literal sense here) of when we drank the nasty liquid. [Author’s note to Erin – This is TWICE that I have done this within 24 hours, Erin, that’s TWICE.]
Classes have begun. Actually, I should say private tutoring sessions. I don’t have any group classes yet. I go to kids’ houses and teach them the finer nuances of the English language, such as the word “a”. I use advanced methods like Go Fish and “Here, Draw Your Family on This Paper.” Although I’ve been pretty nervous for each class, they’ve all gone well so far. This may be due, in part, to my musical sessions beforehand. While walking 9,000 miles from the metro to a house in high heels, I sing “I Have Confidence” from The Sound of Music. Only, I change the words from, “A captain with seven children, what’s so fearsome about that?” to “A Spaniard with two small children, what’s so fearsome about that?” This seems to work pretty well for me.
I also celebrated a high point last night. It was my first night to sleep on…sheets! Yep, on Friday Astin, Amber, and took the metro way the heck out to IKEA. IKEA is located in a rather desolate part of the Madrid outskirts where, Amber and I agreed, it smells like someone pooped and then threw up on top of it. (I totally just got a visual for the face my grandma made if she read that.) We picked up frivolous items like sheets and pillows and blankets and cereal bowls. Astin and I had a “that girl is kind of weird” moment when I chose to buy a plant and candles rather than a big blanket like she did. Hey, I already have a sleeping bag, but we needed some light. Our apartment still isn’t set up yet, but rest assured, when it is we will post pictures.
This week will be pretty hectic. I take TEFL courses in the morning and afternoon (although it is all technically considered morning here), do prep in the afternoon, and teach in the evenings. Friday is the big test to see if we pass the TEFL course and then Monday our adult class lesson plans are due. After that, we only have to complete 40 hours of practice teaching (it’s real teaching and it’s paid, you just have to turn in a lesson plan for each class) and then we get our certificates. I’m thinking of marketing myself privately because I just don’t make very much money through my current organization. 13 euros an hour seems like a lot, but they take forever to get you classes. If I market myself, I can charge more and be pickier about my clients. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.
I hope you all are having a wonderful month. I love getting e-mails about how you’re doing even if I don’t respond immediately. Also, if you are dying to send me some postal mail (Anne.) let me know and I will e-mail you my mailing address. Postal mail is the greatest thing in the world, almost. TTFN.

Gag Reel

Keepin' it real

1) In honor of Columbus Day, we christened each of our flights the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. This is the Niña.
2) The Pinta. Landon and Brenna came along for this flight. No photographs were taken on the Santa Maria flight because we were passed out for the whole thing.
3) At the Hostel from Hell, Astin lounges in the ancient, yet tacky living room.
4) Using the flusher and the community bathroom mop.
5) Relaxing in our tiny bathtub/washbasin.
6) Astin fixing the tub plug in our apartment.
7) Our first meal…canned ravioli which we decided to adult-ify by adding a tomato and some garlic.
8) Figuring out how to organize the dining room was a dilemma.
9) We rode the bullet train to a nearby town called Toledo. Graham (his real name, coincidentally) and Kastin (our team name) had a show-down between the two types of cookies we bought. We called this the Cookie Off.
10) Part of the landscape visible from one of the look-out points.
11) More panoramic view…you can see bridges and castles and whatnot in the distance.
12) Streets of Toledo.
13) Illegal picture taken in the Monasterio de San Juan de las Reyes (Monastery of St. John of the Kings). Tope was outside waiting, so she’s not in the picture.
14) Cathedral.


Well, much has happened since I last blogged, most of it positive. The most exciting thing was that Astin and I found an apartment we like and we talked the owner down 100 euros in the price. He’s a super nice guy who helped us with all of our luggage, cracks jokes, and we’ll probably grab something to eat together sometime. Just a good guy. It’s fairly furnished, like beds and tables and chairs and a few glasses and plates. I definitely think longingly to my kitchen in the states and replay fond memories of time spent with my spice rack, cheese grater, or measuring cups.

I also started classes. It takes about a month to take all the classes and start on practice teaching and lesson plans and whatnot. I can’t get certified until I finish enough hours of guided teaching and I hear that can take a while. This basically means that I’m without an income for November and probably part of December. I believe that is what optimists call “an adventure.” I’m not too stressed about all this, though. Teaching has never been listed in the Lucrative Professions Category in my mind.

Other positive things? Understanding the Metro system, learning how to get around Spain’s complicated streets…at least to the areas I’ve needed so far (think Portland on steroids and crack. At the same time.), cooking, enjoying classes, learning what a phrasal verb is, going to Toledo, recovering from a bad cold that caused me to accidentally sneeze on a wall at Starbucks (that was horrifying).

Well, that’s my blog for now. I’m trying to keep it a little interesting, informative enough, and a bit humorous. Feel free to leave feedback. I know I didn’t go into much detail, but let’s face it, the best way to wonder if watching the grass grow is interesting is to read someone’s blog about travel. Most of them go like this, “Hey everyone! Here is a boring list of all these awesome places I’ve been that will be of no interest to you and you might not ever go there, anyway. Haha! I love you soooooo much.”

Rest assured, I am safe, in relative good health, I am learning about all those parts of grammar that make most people vomit (predicate nominatives, anyone?), and having a pretty good time. If you aren’t on the e-mail list and would like to be, shoot me an e-mail or facebook message with your e-mail address. I will be sending out an e-mail that has my postal address. Take note, those who wish to receive higher percentages of my estate should send me lots of mail. Otherwise, I will instruct my lawyer to take you out of my will.

See above for explanations

Living in Style

Astin and I found a two-bedroom apartment. We live in it now. Onto ruling the world.

WE FOUND AN APARTMENT!!! The name of the guy we're renting from? Angel.

I do not make this stuff up, people.

Surgeon General's Warning: The following post may or may not contain mild whining. Whining is considered annoying to the health.

Well. Here we are back at MAD hostel after a weekend stay at what Astin and I now refer to as "The Hostel from Hell." Really, the hostel itself wasn't awful, aside from running out of toilet paper. When we arrived at 11 or 12, there was no sign of a desk or any way of getting beyond the locked doors on the 7th floor of the building we were in. Apparently, guests are supposed to miraculously divine that the desk is located at least a block away where an elderly and grumpy old man was attending to several outraged clients. (Apparently there were several problems with the hostel.) In short, it took the goodwill (and different levels of broken Spanish) of several amazingly kind individuals to get us situated. For example, Sabine and Filipe from France let three different groups store luggage in their room since we couldn't check in till 2. Or the Spanish couple that wouldn't leave the office until Astin had her room keys, even though they had theirs. They also gave her their cell number in case we ran into anymore problems. There was also the taxi driver that we miscommunicated with when we gave directions. He pulled over, shut off the meter, and helped us find exactly where to go. So many suprising acts of kindness kept us safe and relatively happy.

I now have another suggestion for future travelers. You should get sick while you're living in a hostel. In fact, you should convert your old nose to a new-and-improved faucet. You should also accidentally keep half your fake hostel up at night when you can't sleep. This will make you feel like a great person.

Final news...no apartment. We may be relatively close on one. We're crossing our fingers. Tomorrow begins the test to see if I am fit to teach grammar. I am pretty nervous. Most of what I know and what I write is gut feeling. I'm not sure I will be able to explain how or why things work. But I guess I'll find out tomorrow!

How to have an exciting day

I know you are all relishing my access to free internet use and the fact that I have free time. Apparently that will soon change and Astin and I will begin studying for our first exam which is on Tuesday. I push aside my nervousness for that. In the meantime, I can post wild blogs, knowing that basically the whole world is hanging on my every word. (Sarcasm.) The following is an instruction manual for one or more people, follow closely.
How to Have an Exciting Day
1) Set your alarm for 8, plan to leave at 9. Wake up at 9, realizing uneasily that it's never been light at 8 on the other mornings.
2) Get ready in mere minutes, shoving a croissant in your face as you hustle across town. One of you should also stick approximately half of the glazed side to the front of your jacket. This is really attractive.
3) This is already pretty exciting, so it's okay if you only walk past your street for a couple blocks and then find it on the map.
4) Go to orientation, eat an awesome free breakfast, and then have the guide from the school help you buy a cell phone. This should be done through the Movistar company because your life is already so exciting...you should basically be considered a movie star anyway.
5) Limp back to your hostel wondering why that one bone in your foot hurts so much. Then rapidly forget about the bone and everything except for the fact that the door to your room is wide open and so are your empty storage lockers. One of you should exclaim in words you wouldn't share with your mother and sprint downstairs to frantically quiz the receptionist.
6) For beginners, this level of excitement will suffice. Thus, you can just find that your luggage, iPod, computer, etc. are safely stowed behind the desk. They only took it out since you'll have to move to a different room for a night and they need the one you were in.
7) Plan to spend the rest of the day looking for apartments, crossing your fingers, knowing that if you don't find one, you'll spend the next week bouncing between the three hostels you booked last night.
The End.

Learn it as you go

I have recently learned the following important life lessons. I may provide illustrations as needed.

1- Moving to another city and expecting to find an apartment in 4 days is unrealistic. This may cause mild anxiety and discouragement.
2- One of the best ways to get to know a city is to spend each day walking several thousand miles through different zones, arguing with your party about which street you should turn right on.
3- When you go to view an apartment, remember which street it´s on. That way if you know there´s no way on earth you´re living in that sketchy place, you´ll know to turn down offers in the same neighborhood. (When we asked the realtor about the neighborhood, she said there were a lot of young people and families. She didn´t focus on what substances we suspected those young people were on.)
4- Appreciate the little things. Like the kind old guy who helps you figure out that the 5 digit number in the address you´re looking for is a zip code, not a house number. Be really glad about this when you´re on house number 42. Appreciate the random lady at the hostel who gives you a free back massage and tells you you´ll have plenty of homework in your program and that she hopes you like grammar.
5- Get off the public computer just because you´re too lazy to go upstairs and get your laptop.

Mrs. Meow Mix Goes to Madrid

Greetings from the Mad Hostel. I am not making this name up. Luckily, the hostel is a pretty nice one, and it didn't even cost E90 like other ones close by. Here's a synopsis of the trip prior to this moment:

* 6:59 am, departed from Boise (Niña flight; it's Columbus Day) without any tears. The night before, however, was a different story. Let's just say I likened my mom to the priest in Les Miserables in the scene with Jean Valjean and the candlesticks while the tears rolled.
* The Pinta (we roughly translate this to mean "The Looker.") Eventually landed in Chicago where we waited for about 6 or so hours (with a lot of delays) and then took our 8 hour cross-Atlantic flight. We attempted to sleep but mosty watched a lot of movies. Oh, the cause of the delay? Direct quote, "Reason for delay - aircraft delayed." Spare no detail, United, spare no detail.
*The delays led to us missing our connection in Frankfurt. That's okay, though, because I count sprinting through an international airport with your luggage and laptop flapping madly around you like the moons of Jupiter as an experience each person should have before death.
*The Santa Maria. I don't remember much of the last flight because Astin and I were pretty much passed out for all of it. I thought she was talking to me at one point from under her hood. She didn't respond to me until I referred to her as the Talking Head. Then she answered and we felt that might be humorous to the people around us.
*Roughly 9,000 pounds of luggage later in Madrid, we found a taxi driver who felt that he was up to the challenge of cramming all our stuff in his trunk. Bravery comes in many forms. And then we arrived at the hostel. For those of you who gave birth to me, you may be interested to learn that this hostel seems very safe and we're impressed.

Other than that, we've just been wandering around, wondering how our money disappears so fast, and trying to figure out how to get places. Currently it seems, how shall I put this, ridiculously complicated. We did find the Canterbury offices, though, and I think we'll figure it out. It seems doable.

I'm doing okay. Two things will make me feel a lot better. 1) When we find an apartment. 2) When I figure out what the heck I'm doing in Spain trying to teach English. Other than that, we laugh a lot, mostly at ourselves, our lack of hearing, and the stairs we climb. And now I'm going to bed.

New law. You can't leave.

In case you weren't aware, I love to make people laugh. And I love laughing together. I do not subscribe to that philosophy that says that jokes are funnier (more funny? yeah, I'll be teaching English.) when you don't laugh at your own. Heck, I often laugh at my own jokes more than the people around me. Syd and I occasionally do this thing where one of us is rocking in silent laughter with tears rolling, unable to breathe while the entire room gapes with no clue what is happening.

Ironically, in the past few days, even with the tension of packing and leaving people I am crazy about, I have laughed more than I have in a long time. I think it helps ease the transition. Like when the twins tell me about their plans to chain me to their house or that a new law has mandated that I will never leave. Those things are funny even as the lump in my throat gets bigger when I scoop them up for a last hug.

Or when my mom tells me how she punched her college boyfriend. That's really funny even when I realize that an ocean will squeak its way in between us soon.

Mommy, wow! I'm a big kid now!

I never had Pull-ups. I had poor-ups. As in, get your poor butt up and practice using the big girl potty again. We did not pay for expensive pull-ups. In fact, I think my mom used cloth diapers. Yep, cloth diapers, but not the word butt.

So today, I got my sorry bottom up and dragged it, and my mom, through another wild and disheartening round of shopping. Apparently dressing like a grown-up is a little more difficult than I thought. Especially when I won't shop at stores I heard had labor abuse problems (realistically, probably most of them, but I take it as I learn it), buy the color brown (then I'd have to buy brown shoes), or spend 90,000 for a 6 inch square of cloth. My mother tried to remind me that high heels feel different than Chacos and that shopping at Goodwill for weird t-shirts is different than buying clothes to wear to a business. And no you can't wear those two colors of blue together. My mother is a patient woman.

News for the fashion-conscious who wish to save money: find an old couch and a seamstress. Apparently the new "in-thing" is to be able to lie, camoflaged, on your parent's couch from the 70's. I call it couch-wear. I think some people call it tweed, but I'm not sure. At any rate, buy a nasty couch and take all the fabric to your seamstress to fashion an entire wardrobe. It will save you hundreds. Also fashionable? Belts. There was some sort of belt tacked, swathed, sewn, or draped around roughly 74% of the shirts I encountered.

You are now up-to-date on couch-wear and belts. Please adjust your wardrobe accordingly.

Weird things happen to me these days...

Doing random searches for your name can be interesting. In this manner I found out that I am apparently a recording artist on iTunes. A weird and crappy one, but I have an entire album titled VoKate. Most of the stuff involving my name didn't have many popularity bars next to it. Anne, too bad, you don't have any music on iTunes. Just me. My cassette tape beginning says it all.

I did a search for Cassie's name in the Flair application on Facebook. I came up with a gem of four highschoolers in hideous fluorescent blue choir dresses.

In other news, when I'm not wasting time wondering how many other people in the world have the same name as me, or what albums their recording, I'm packing. I'll pack up everything from this house and move it to my parent's house. And then I will cry and laugh and yell and shake my fist while kicking, jumping, shoving, and smashing all in an attempt to squeeze everything into suitcases. 10 days, people, 10 days.

Try this one on for size

I came to the hysterical realization the other day that Colbie Caillat could easily be singing about a fart in her song "Bubbly." Check it out.

Note to self...don't laugh

I've been babysitting the twins about once a week since the beginning of the summer, and they're oddly well-behaved. Just good-natured kids who would rather have fun than argue about something. But last night we spent an hour problem solving about, yes, you guessed it, their life-consuming hobby--four leaf clovers. A dispute arose (after we laminated, cut, sorted, and counted about 400 four, five, and six leaf clovers) over one special clover and to whom it belonged. I tried my very best to take them seriously (I stopped laughing when I saw little lips quivering and little eyes fillng up with tears) as they discussed how each one knew the disupted clover was hers. "I just know it's mine because it has the three leaves and the one big odd leaf and and and..." "I just know it's mine because she has lots of those kinds and I only had a couple and it was really special to me and and and..." Yes, I did take a break to leave the room and laugh silently in the hall. It made me think about moms and how hard it must be to take your kids seriously some of the time. I remember being furious when my mom laughed at me a couple times (who wouldn't. I was ridiculous.) In the end, they came to a solution and we had enough time for fake moustaches and pretend car thievery, so I'd say it worked out. :)

My new favorite phrases involve the word "Mrs." Usually the people I say it to are not married. For example, I called my sister "Mrs. Turd Wagon," to which she insists she did not respond. My ultimate favorite is "Mrs. Meow Mix." Plops off your tongue excellently. I thought I would give a vocab update for those of you who are not in the loop with my latest vernacular.

In the weather segment of this news broadcast, well, things are getting colder and my roommates informed me that I couldn't wear a t-shirt and shorts last night. Lame.

My thoughts on tea...

One time when my sister and I were little, my mom decided we should have an all-out tea party. So we dressed up, made little sandwiches, got out teacups and saucers and doilies and honey and sugar and and and...Of course my mom would suggest that we use British accents and names. We came up with names like Mrs. Witherspoon. Then it was my sister's turn to pick a name. She solemnly stuck her little nose in the air and with her best British accent she introduced what she thought would be a perfectly acceptable modification of Peabody, "I suggest Mrs. Peabrain." My mom and I erupted in laughter and Anne never did live it down.

When the climactic moment came to drink our tea, after we had added honey and lemon and all those glamorous things people write about in books, we raised our cups and swallowed a sip. Anne and I promptly spit it back in the cup because we were young enough to get away with that sort of thing. I said it tasted like stewed weeds and held that opinion for several years.

Last year or so, I learned to like tea. Quite a bit, actually. To the point where I drink it without anything added. But the other day I had a thought about the tea industry. While I'm sure some tea is legitimate, how do we know it started that way? I'm pretty sure some brilliant villageperson wandered out and started hacking down weeds and plants no one wanted. Then he said to himself, "I'm going to package this in cutesy bags and sell it for millions to unsuspecting rich people." So maybe tea really is just stewed weeds. Look at it sometime. Outside the bag, it just looks like someone mowed their lawn and then dispensed it into little bags. I should start my own company and call it something swank like "Lonti" and only I will know it means "Lawn Tea" as in, "This tea was mowed from my back yard."

Today I worked at a different coffee shop than I usually do in order to fill in for someone else. While there, my fly swatting prowess became obvious and the other barista said, "We should call you Fly Slayer!"

Little did she know that I gave that nickname to myself two days ago.

Tonight all the roommates and I, plus the twins, learned, or re-learned, the fine art of...

Double Dutch.

Did we look ridiculous? Mildly. Was it awesome? Yes. Some new favorite quotes are below, not necessarily from tonight.

"Yeah, I read a lot of books about unicorns when I was a kid." -my coworker
"Let's just face it, some political figures should really be turned into cucumbers." -my mentor

C and K need not apply

I grew up in a culture that really supported the idea of marriage, much to the neglect of the idea of singleness. As I get outside that culture, I become more and more okay with the idea of being single...as a good thing. Still, if I ever get married, I will probably turn down suitors whose last names start with C or K. K would give me the initials KKK, and C is probably the most boring capital letter in the whole alphabet. It puts you to sleep to write it. Also, the following names all rhyme: bea, dea, gia, leah, mia, nia, ria, tia.

Dear The Person Who Invented Salsa,

I love you.

Take a glorious bite of the whole world

"Love without courage and wisdom is sentimentality, as with the ordinary church member. Courage without love and wisdom is foolhardiness, as with the ordinary soldier. Wisdom without love and courage is cowardice, as with the ordinary intellectual. But the one who has love, courage, and wisdom moves the world." -Ammon Hennacy

So the hamster woke up a bit groggily and did a few laps today. I'm not saying I'm in some deep thinking pattern again, it's just nice to be thinking a little bit. It's also nice to have a break from the nonstop, can't escape it thinking of my last semester at school. Syd inadvertantly started a discussion forum about shopping. Most people at least have a vague buzzing in their head about some store or another. We all can think of a store that's been cited for labor rights, child workers, sweatshops, environmental issues, etc. There's the extreme that says boycott, stop shopping at those stores. Then there's the other extreme that says that boycotting said stores doesn't actually do anything to help the laborers that produce said goods. And there's yet another extreme that says I'm only one person, I can't think of anything to do, so I'll do nothing.

This all just reminded me that this process of learning to give a damn is hard. <-I just stared at that sentence for a long time trying to figure out what to say next. I had two realizations today when I was staring off into the distance. Two of them were things that I've known for a while but they took some time to slam into me. 1) There is more good going on than I know. I've been surprised to find stuff, even in this town. More people care than I realize. 2) Said people are not coming to me anymore. There will be no more invites to campus clubs, to small groups. They aren't going to send an informative brochure to my mailbox to tell me how to change. It's instantly overwhelming to begin to see how much change is neccesary in our Valley, in our state, and our country, and then you look at the world. I was talking to my mentor about how ignorant I felt. How I understand that I need to know what's happening in the world but I have no clue where to start. She told me to pick one country and follow it in the news. Obviously this is a good idea because I will learn about other countries through their connection to the one country. I think the same idea is true, in one sense, about issues. Perhaps in the beginning it is good to start with a focus on one issue. But that doesn't mean ignorance is excusable elsewhere. If I become a recycling fanatic, traveling to parks across the nation to pick up litter, that doesn't mean it's okay for me to spend extravagantly and run over homeless people with my Prius.

Hmm.

I decided today that if I ever go to a naughty costume party, I will design a character called Dr. Spankenstein.

This is how we do.

Fortune smiled upon me and I ended up with a free plane ticket to Portland. After a lengthy period of working my ass off (okay, I say that, but it's not always true. But I do work hard.), I was PUMPED to head out for some R&R. The R&R capitol is located at the Austen homestead.

I got to visit my aunt and her incredibly fat cat. Pan could double as a footstool. But, Pan and I are great friends and we had some good bonding cuddles. (Dun dun dun, my true inner cat lover is revealed.) I later bonded with Julio, who is not a cat, over some good lunch and coffee.

In true Portland style, I met up with Julianne in the pouring rain, and even remembered to grab the bridesmaid dress I left at my aunt's house in March. The next few days were spent laughing, cooking, watching movies, etc. And then we had a blackberry war. Many of you know that Julianne usually spends her days playing the piano, working, cooking low-fat desserts, and being otherwise mild-mannered. What many people do not know, is that, when provoked, she will scratch your eyes out. Okay, so that's never been documented, but it could happen. When we went berry picking, I warned her that we should wear old shirts in case we got messy. This should have translated into, "I will annihilate you with blackberries." She insists it did not. So she got a little pissed, in that way that quiet people do when they secretly want to kill you, when I threw the first few overripe berries. Eventually when we were covered from head to toe, she had fun. And plastered nasty berries in my hair.

Lunch and bubble tea with Grace topped off the trip. I realize this is kind of a boring list of events that only a limited number of people participated in. I did have some epiphanies about friendship. Small ones, about how I'm still friends with people I was around for less than three months, and some of those friendships are the strongest I have. Other small realizations about how even when I feel so crazy and how I feel all over the place and not knowing who I am, there are some friendships for which the craziness just doesn't matter. Drifting apart is a normal and healthy part of life sometimes. There is, however, a very beautiful thing about friendships that learn to change and adapt together.

One size fits...no one.

That awesome title came from my boss's husband today. He came into work and saw the ill-fitting rubber gloves and the rest is history.

Whamo slammo. A lot has passed since the last time I blogged, so if you don't like long posts, get a new life at this time, please. Okay. Some events.

The day camp I worked for (I am done as of the 15th, sadly) took 66 kids to the zoo. My group wanted to be called, "Monkey Funky." I led them to the first exhibit. That exhibit then had diarrhea. 2 hours later and lots of whining about why our group didn't go to the gift shop, we left. It was a good time. Other highlights of this summer included: the same amount of kids, only a water park. My group buried my legs in the sand and made it into a fin. My first experience as a mermaid. One of the girls became concerned about my personal grooming habits. She interpreted the stiff gel in my hair as lack of washing and worriedly/mildly disapprovingly asked when I took a shower. This continued for a few days.

Our last day of summer was the 15th and the kids had a talent show. There were a lot of awkward moments, let me tell you. The grand finale was a staff rendition of Hannah Montana's "Best of Both Worlds." And you will know without being told who was Hannah Montanta. Hopefully I can post a video. We threw the whole routine together in 45 minutes in a small room. A room so small that I didn't realize how close my backup dancers were...until my hand karate chopped my boss in the nose. Forcefully. When we all recovered from near-death laughing attacks (or laughing/crying intervals for my boss), she said, "the show must go on" and performed the next sequence with a Kleenex hanging out her nose.

The money making continues. I accept all kinds of odd jobs. House cleaning, babysitting for farting one-year-olds, dogsitting for small old-man-looking chihuahuas, babysitting for hilarious nine-year-olds, making coffee, and working at a day camp. I also plan to have a yard sale.

I'm really going to miss the kids. I worked hard this summer trying to learn new techniques, new ways to say no, new ways to love them when I want to send them to another planet, new ways to see their world. Some of the ones that wouldn't listen to me at all now fling themselves at me when I get to work. It has been a good job.

Lady raid

There's this part on the movie Never Been Kissed where Drew Barrymore's character decides to dress fashionably to go back to high school. In order to fit in, she consults Seventeen magazine or something. She eventually ends up dressed in white from head to toe, including white jeans. The cool girls all laugh her off and shun what she thought would be awesome.

I have this fear about fashion in Spain.

Those of you who know me are aware that while I am no outcast, I am not exactly a trendsetter. Dressing up sometimes rocks my world, but then again, so do Chacos every day of the week. Oregon really screwed me up...I had to relearn that Chacos are not an acceptable form of footwear with dresses.

Last Wednesday the twins came over and we had a slip 'n' slide in the back yard with Syd. Was it awesome? Yes. We did belly flops, backslides, olympics, and the twins came up with bowling. Naturally we accidentally flooded parts of the yard, but I hope it is recovering nicely.

I still love my job at the day camp and I will be really sad to leave. They didn't really make me an offer to stay, but I would have refused it anyway. I'm making headway with kids that drive me nuts sometimes. And I always feel a little shifty about leaving kids who have just grown to trust me. Plus, you can't really get 20 hugs a day anywhere else. :)

If anyone knows about fashion in Spain...let me know.

Super Shark Storms the Seas

Oh mi blog. I have not written in thee for quite some time. So I'm becoming that girl that likes little kids. Today was play in the sprinklers day at work and we had a lot of fun. I wish I were staying after the summer program, but it's just not feasible. They haven't offered and I wouldn't accept if they did. It's bittersweet to see the disappointed look in the kids' faces when I tell them I won't be here in the fall. The little breakthroughs mean a lot. Like the girl who tells me that she still likes me even though all I do is torture children. Or the moments when a flash of presence comes into Brayden's eyes long enough to call me an old grandma and run away before he returns to the distant look again.

Life marches on at a fairly regular pace. Did I say I bought a one-way ticket to Madrid? That was weird. I haven't felt peaceful in a while. I think working lots of hours, not enought time with the people Icare about, and something going on all the time is taking its toll. But I haven't whined very much. It's not the coolest thing to inflict your choices on the people around you. No one but me made me go to Spain. Which, ironically, ends up being my saving grace. I remind myself that I'm choosing to be at work at 5:20 in the morning. For a recovering control-freak like myself, that is power :)

I took Julie's advice and I'm vacationing for a year. From anything religious. And I enjoy it. I also enjoy her family. The twins and I went to the store in our costumes. I was just dressed up from Superhero day at work (I was Super Shark with a giant fin on my head), and they just wanted to wear costumes. We boldly took the grocery store by storm.

The End.

Buy a one-way ticket on a west bound train

On Saturday I bought a one-way ticket to Madrid. I often think I might be out of my mind.
...
All of the cheap tickets doubled in price so it was kind of a last-minute make-it-or-break-it kind of a deal, so we both bought a one-way ticket. I really think I'm crazy. But I'm in it to win it.

In order to pay for that one-way ticket, I've been working my ass off a bit. This is due to the fact that I don't make very much money. I also added a house-cleaning job to my other two jobs. That was really a mental shift for me. As much as we say all jobs/people/etc. are the same, that's not what we really believe.

And now I have pink eye. I haven't had it since I was a little kid. I'm not sure if I even got it then. It was probably inevitable, but I have no memories of it. I feel a little let down by my immune system. I suppose the feeling is mutual.

I've been working in the teen center this week. All the teen staff was called away and it's been a wild week.

1) I don't like working alone 2) I don't like being held responsible at the same time I have no clue what's happening 3) It's hard to build a relationship in a week.

Little kids, more often than not, will adore you simply because you are taller than them if you make any effort. Junior high and high school kids, not so much. Now that I think about this, most of my frustration this week would be forgettable except for the one kid. The one who probably really needs to know that somebody loves him but doesn't understand that from me.

Calling for You

The other night we talked for a few hours straight about what was making me furious. We talked about how my whirlwind experience had spilled over into other lives in a painful way. They were honest. I expected it to hurt, but instead I felt very secure, knowing that two of the people I love the most were brave enough to be honest.

I think things that are true bring life.

Library card, please

Time to check in. Coincidentally, it is also time to get a new library card.

The summer continues. Plenty of work to keep me busy (I wish there was plenty of money to keep me saving :D) And plenty of good times to be had. Highlights.

The twins. Once a week I get off work, drive to their house, have dinner with their fam, and then the parents depart. We either walk Ellie, play frisbee, bake something, or last week we made a giant deep sea chalk mural in their driveway. Somehow it had a dental theme. I think it started when I made an octopus with a toothbrush and they took it from there. After I named it Javier the sly dental hygienist, their parents told me the neighbor across the street was a dental hygienist. Whoops. After that, we read a chapter from "A Knight's Tale" (Edward Eager was one of the most brilliant children's authors, I feel) with voices and accents and noises. And then they go to bed. Usually, it's the highlight of my week. Who knew nine-year-olds were so fun.

We floated the river the other day. Lots of ridiculous events before and after, which involved walking for multiple miles in the blazing sun, waiting for rides, and chilling for hours. And it was a very good day. I did run into a few trees, though. And one guy didn't realize I was behind him and smacked a branch into me. Afterward we went to one of those old fashioned diners and I have never enjoyed a hamburger that much, I'm pretty sure. And please, please, ask Sydney how to scream at the top of your lungs.

Yesterday I went to a wedding. I generally find weddings to be agreeable, especially if I go with people I know, which I did. A bit of a long ceremony, but it was so gorgeous outside I barely noticed. Huge old trees and tons of green and some running water off to the side. And a very glamorous couple up front. Plus a dinner afterward. I think that's the first wedding I went to with a dinner afterward and it rocked my world. I've been to ones that were awfully close, though. At each wedding I find things that I do and don't want to do at my own wedding. Astin and I both talked about how we want fairly non-traditional weddings. I don't think I want it to be "my special day" because I think that would scare me. I want it to be a party for me, and for my studmuffin :), and for all the people that raised me, helped me grow, and listened to me whine/cry/laugh/doubt along the way. It's work to help people through relationships sometimes!

Also I mowed the lawn yesterday. Booyah.

Rollin' with the homies

So I got accepted. And so did Astin--September 22nd will find is in Madrid. I can't really believe it, but it definitely got a lot more real. We'll be there at the school for a month taking classes on how to teach english to get our TEFL certificate, plus student teaching. Then after that, we're guaranteed 15 hours a week at the school and then we have to find private students.

We also got a puppy. She's a chow mix named Electra.Shoot, time to go to work, more later.
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Back from work. Which is, by the way, excellent. I still work at the coffee shop but I also work with 1st-5th graders at a day camp. They're hilarious. I'm used to working with jr. high kids, so the complete inability to reason throws me off. Really, all they care is that somethingdid not go their way. Nothing else matters. I have a new respect for my old comrades at Cannon Beach.

Tomorrow, Astin and i are meeting to discuss financial matters. We're trying to decide if we'll have the finances to make it by September or if we'll have to wait for the next program in October. We'd liketogo in September, but I'm just not sure.

I do know that Anne's spacebar doesn'twork...

Housekeeping

So, I got another job. I still work at the coffee shop. But I also got a job at a community center working at their day camp. It's 1st-6th graders and I work in the afternoons. In some ways it reminds me of Cannon Beach, and in a lot of ways, not at all. I thought a lot about CBCC when we were training though. Lots of the same stuff--games, training, and cleaning :D I firmly believe that you can do all the get-to-know-you games you want, but until you clean something nasty or disastrous for an extended period of time, you don't really bond. I'm still not quite sure what I'm doign, but I knowenough to punt. Quote for the day comes from Vince. I was on his case a lot so i wanted to build him up. I noticed he had a ton of accents and voices he uses.
Me-"Vince! You have like a million voices. Where did you learn them all?!"
Vince-"Actually 99,921. 99,921 is the limit that humans can learn. And that includes like elk and other animal noises."

I evenutally coaxed a demonstration of "elk noises" from him. It was a cross between a dog and a cat I think.

I'm currently looking for another job. I did the math and there's no way I'll make it to Spain on my current salary, especially since rent just went up. And I didn't realize how long the drive is to the day camp. Good thing gas is awesomely priced at 4.07.

In other news, we're moving into the new house. Anne and I are still housesitting, so we move bit by bit. The first night, we were shocked to find out how much touch up paint we'd need. Then we also had the touch up wall. When I had toured the house I thought it was textured. Nope, just really crappy :D So Anne and I, who are sharing a room, got some paint and did the whole wall, boom boom.

I'm excited for the house, and for a routine, and for living with some amazing girls. Word to your mom.

So, in a creepy facebook way, I was looking at someone's pictures of Cuba. A friend of a friend, but it's nice to be able to look through their pictures. It was amazing to be taken back there and remember those things. So damn lucky. To Hamlin street in the art district and see stuff that I could have never imagined. The psicoballet and how hysterical and beautiful it was. The hospital, the doctor's office. Pain I will never know, beauty I'll only see once. Even as I write this I can really only think about the water and how blue it was. You can read about it, you can see photos and you never really get it until it takes your breath away. And you stare at it and drink it with your eyes because it's so blue. It's like bathing in sunshine.

And the people you love and who love you. The ones who journey with you as you feel like what you knew crumbles in your hand and trickles through you fingers. The ones who laugh with you, skinny dip with you, ask questions, listen to questions, cry, get mad, run, spin, eat weird food. The ones you never see again. The ones who teach you more in a week than you wonder if you've learned in your life. They give more with a meal than you think you can give with your whole heart. They don't care that you don't get it. For some reason, you get to be loved by them.

It wasn't always magical. I hated parts of it. I was lonely, frustrated, scared, sick, pained. But it was really small in comparison to the magic in the smiles, the you-have-no-clue-what's-happening laughter, the aha! moments, and sharing.

Just as magical as a street corner popsicle between friends.

Give me a reason to fall in love

So, really, living with five girls in a two-bedroom apartment is pretty rad. I'm sure the light sleeping will either take care of itself or I'll get tired. But now is great. Life at the M is good, except that I have to pee. Life in general is good. I just feel unsettled. I wonder about that whole in-the-moment thing when I think "If only I had a house, if only I had another job..." I suppose It's fine since I'm enjoying myself, just a little stressed out. Dangit, I realized I forgot a scrubbie.

Also, there is the sweetest guy who works at the flying M. He reminds me not to be a beeyotch to the rude customers. After Sydney and I had a very nerdy conversation last night about coffee and customers, everyone was amazing today. Some of the nicest customers I've ever had. I forget how much you change someone's day by the look on your face and how much your perfect order means to you.

The house hunt continues. I feel like we get close often, but not close enough. And then we all talk big about how we will go in and wrangle our way into the perfect deal. Mostly just for laughs. Hopefully the current prospect will work out. I asked them to leave the "I kiss better than I cook" sign above the sink.

I haven't started missing everyone yet. I don't think it feels real since we're so wrapped up in finding a house and jobs. I really would like to be settled. And I think once we just get there, it will be time to move to Spain. And really, after that, I might be temped to move into my parent's garage just to have roots.

I think they're closing shop for the night. Adios

How lucky, how lucky we are

Several things have struck me lately and I haven't captured my thoughts for most of them. But here are a few.

The recent salvation of my future boyfriend from the lake of fire. One of the cutest old couples ever came to the drive through, and as the girl making the drinks was taking 9 trillion hours, I was chatting with them. Below are excerpts from our conversation. Too bad you can't hear my vocal inflections. Sidenote-lots of laughing from both sides of the window took place.

K: So do you guys have any fun plans for your Saturday?
Them: Fun plans? Did you have anything in mind? We're seventy years old! What kind of plans are we going to have?
K: Well, the car in front of you is going to a soccer game.
Them: Well, if our grandkids were playing, we might go, but they're not playing today.
...
Them: So. Do you have a boyfriend?
K: Nope!
T: WHAT?! A pretty young girl like yourself without a boyfriend?
K: It's true.
The wife: Oh, yes, but are you married?
K: Nope, not married either.
Them: *general noises of shock and dismay* How old are you?
K: Twenty-two.
T: Twenty-two!!! Why, at your age we were married and having children! We got married when we were 17 and 18.
K: Times they are a-changin.
[man slides thick tract across to me. Glancing down, I notice it is titled "Bad Bob" a bearded man with an underbite, sunglasses, & frown is featured across a confederate flag background]
T: Well, you give this to your boyfriend when you get one. You make sure he's not like the man in this book.

Later on I will scan the most exceptional frames from "Bad Bob" and post them on here. It is the most hysterical tract I've ever read. And those two older people where some of the cutest I've ever met. They also told me that their church is a good place to go for the men. They have lots.
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Yesterday I sliced up little pieces of an avocado to put on crackers. Meiko's song "Lucky" was playing in my head. The lyrics begin, "One day we'll get out of this shitty apartment" and feature "and I'll say how lucky we are." I thought that was a little ironic because Kimberlea and I have not always been satisfied with campus housing. This year has been pretty good. I had one of those, 'Yes, but it's good now, too' moments. Thinking about how lucky I've been, too. The last time I mashed up avocados to put on crackers I was at a hot purple hostel in La Fortuna and Becky was teaching me the art of salt and avocados and saltine crackers and swearing to me that the brown parts are edible. It was a simple meal and it rocked my world...things often do when you're famished from ziplining :) Eating saltine crackers and mashed avocados was one of the happier moments in my life and I hope to always think of it when I use avocados. This is quite possible since they are ridiculously expensive so I won't buy them often enough to forget.

I'm lucky now, too. Lucky enough to have a roommate who is as crazy as I am. Lucky to have people to share life with. As graduation is finally dawning on me, I reflect that it's been a good four years. It was and it wasn't what I expected. I kept my promise not to kill myself academically, but I gave it a good shot that paid off. I think I've learned a lot and changed a lot and remained a lot the same. And I still like naps.

My conversation with the unicyclist

A guy on a unicycle just rode by. I looked up with my customary smile and realized he was on a unicycle. My expression changed to, "You're on a unicycle. No one around here rides a unicycle." And his changed to, "You're totally realizing I'm on a unicycle and you don't know what to do with it." He kept riding on with a grin and I sat there with a bemused expression on my face.

Keep on a'rockin' me baby

Hmmm...blogging. This could be dangerous. I haven't blogged for quite some time. This is probably because a lot of blogs annoy me. They are either 1) a way to vent feelings that you should just share in-person 2) emotional ramblings 3) spiritual barf 4) pseudointelligent showing off 5) boring.

I don't buy that whole nonsense that "If you don't like what I write, don't read it." Get yourself a damn diary, that's what I say. And yet, here I am, writing a blog.

The paper is only 6 pages and it was due a week ago. Yet it is only natural that the smell of blog would be more alluring right now than the smell of paper. It's not a bad paper, I'm learning lots about Edna St. Vincent Millay. One of those poets that is often forgotten but shouldn't be. I'll post an excerpt: