Tuesday, September 30, 2003
Well, it is finally raining here in Madrid. The natives here say it hasn´t rained really since March. So I suppose I should be happy about it. I would be happy about it too if it weren´t for the fact that I just happened to pick last night as the night to do my laundry, so I have a bunch of clothes hanging out on the line right now, getting drenched in the downpour. Sigh. Crap. I´d take them in, but there´s no where to put them!
So the random fifth roommate has finally shown up. His name is Andi and he is from Germany. He´s alright, as far as I can tell. I can´t quite tell if he´s going to be cool yet, but at least he doesn´t seem annoying or obnoxious. And he´s conscientious about cleaning up which is always a good thing. I´m not sure yet though if he has a personality. So far, he just seems to do whatever Simon tells him to do. Don´t get me wrong; I like Simon and I enjoy hanging out with him. But he is certainly a bossy boy, and usually I try to ignore him when he is being especially so. It´s funny actually, the different reactions Andi and I have to Simon-stimulous. I mean, if Simon tells me, no, you can get cheaper toilet paper at Sabeco than Champion, no, you should go to the bakery on San Bernardo for bread instead of Champion...what do I do? I go to Champion and tell him to stop acting like he knows more than me about everything in the world. Andi, on the other hand, believes Simon´s word is scripture and follows it to the letter. He goes where Simon wants him to go and says what he wants him to say. But eh, whatever. No skin off my noes I guess. I think Andi is just insecure or something. He´ll get better probably.
We have been having some adventures in the flat these past few days. One, we finally got a mailbox key, so now supposedly I can receive mail. IN CASE any of you want to MAIL me anything, my address is:
Chloe Bowen
San Bernardo 119
2o. Izq.
Madrid, 28015
SPAIN
Besides that, the other day a leak started randomly in the ceiling of the bathroom. Only a slight leak, but this can still lead to larger problem. So we told Jose the landlord and the dripping has stopped, but now there is this huge discoloration on the ceiling of the bathroom, and even worse on the wall of Andi´s room. I´m afraid it´s going to start to smell. Supposedly I think they´re going to paint over it, but who knows how long THAT could take. Well..at least we have a mailbox now.
And as much as I tease Simon about his anality, there is a good side to it. For example, he actually went out and bought a computer. And it was only like 150 euros! I mean, it´s a used computer and it´s pretty basic, but it has word, which is pretty much all I need. We also got a printer, so when I start teaching I can type up and print out lessons, which will be very, very helpful indeed. No internet, but still, this is a step up.
And Simon is continuing to be a real go-getter about accruing furniture for our flat from the street. Last night around 11:30 pm Andi, Simon and I were hanging out watching Operaction Triompho, the SPanish American Idol, and Pierre came home and said he saw a couch on a street not too far from our house. So we decided we should go get it for our flat. It was actually kind of a ways away. We decided to bring the shopping cart with us that, conveniently, was still hanging out in the hallway of our apartment from the last furniture-getting adventure. So we wheel the cart out onto the street and Pierre hops in and wants a ride. So we give it to him. We wheel him left, we wheel him right, we wheel him flying down the street. We all take turns riding down the streets of Madrid, midnight on a Monday, in a shopping cart from El Corte Ingles. It was classic. It was kind of like our own personal Jackass episode. Eventually we make it to the couch, which, luckily, was still there and not been snatched by some other furniture shoppers. It has no cushions, however. Minor detail! we say. So we lay the ugly green thing across the shopping cart and wheel it on home. Last time I saw it was last night and it was just kind of hanging out in the corner of the living room, looking sad and pathetic with its missing seat cushions, broken feat, and covered in dog hair. I´m hoping though that when I return home after being here I will find it cushioned and cleaned. I´m hoping Simon, being Simon, has already taken care of this.
So besides these apartment-adventures, I have been going out a bit too. I seem to fall in and out of love with somebody almost daily here. There is a superindentent for my building whom I sometimes see around in the halls and who sometimes randomly wanders into our apartment to fix something. He doesn´t speak English at all, so I say hola to him, but that´s about it. I hadn´t really give him a second thought, but apparently he was asking Pierre and Simon about me, and Pierre told him I was ¨on the market.¨ (Not IN the market, mind you, but ON the market..hmm..those silly Belgians). So Pierre told me this and I was like, oh great, THANKS Pierre. And he said, ¨I also tell him you don´t speak Spanish, and he say, ´ah, is better!´¨ Why do they always say that? I wonder if it IS better that way..I might have to give it a try. A relationship without speaking..could be interesting. Anyway, I´m not especially into this dude or anything, but after what they said, the last time I saw him I was so embarrassed I totally blew him off. No wonder I don´t have any luck with men. If they like me or I like them, my first reaction is to ignore them completely. Go me! Yea!
This last Thursday night I met up with my friend Andrea who is in my TEFL class and we went to see this capoeira exposition. Capoeira is a martial art that Andrea is really into..she goes to classes like three times a week. She´s pretty hardcore about it. IT was cool though, watching people flip all around in the air and spin on their heads and hop up and down on one hand. After that, we were hanging out with some of her capoeira friends, trying to figure out what to do. Everything just seems to take a beat longer to get decided here. In the meantime, someone opens up their car door and starts playing their stereo really loud out of it, so we dance in the street. Eventually, Andrea and I hop in the car with one of her friends and we drive to some random park where, somehow, magically, everybody from capoeira basically shows up. So we´re standing around in this park now, drinking rum and cokes and chatting. I think Andrea and I were the only Americans. She has a distinct advantage though, as she speaks Spanish and I do not. Random drunk Spaniards kept trying to talk to us. At one point, this dude comes up to us with a bottle of whiskey and wants us to take a shot. No way, we say, not without a chaser. So he wanders off to see if there´s any coke left, and apparently there´s not, because what he comes back with is, get this: an opened can of green olives and a bag of cashews. When given those two alternatives, which would you choose to wash down your whiskey? We chose the cashews. Anyway, eventually some radom friend of Andrea´s drives us home and I get to bed at like 7 o´clock.
So Simon had been looking around for a good source of hash (chocolate, as the Spaniards say). And apparently, he has found one. Friday evening, I was innocently in the living room, knitting away on a hat I was working on, when in walks Simon with three random dudes in tow. Apparently he met them in Retiro park somewhere where most of the dealing goes on. They were nice dudes. Two of them were black, from some random islands somewhere far far away, and the other one was Brasilian. He was cute, too, and he didn´t speak English either. Hmm.. Todo es la familia! said one of the random dudes, and we proceeded to hang out at the table there for a good few hours smoking the pot and drinking Champion brand cerveca. And we also got some most excellent hash out of the deal too. Good times, good times.
But no, that was not the end of my night. Indeed, it was just the beginning. Later I met up with Andrea and her Brasilian friend Mila, along with some of her random friends. We end up going to this random house party somewhere out in God Knows Where Madrid. Personally by this time I had the munchies something fierce so I spent more of the party stuffing my face with crackers and balogna sandwiches than drinking, but I did a fair bit of that too. Talked to a few people...Mila can speak English really well and she´s in the process of learning Spanish too since she speaks Portuguese in Brasil. She actually thought I was a Madrileno until I told her I was American, how funny is that? Actually I think I must look pretty Spanish because a lot of people seem to think I´m Spanish..until I open my mouth. I kind of have that European-blend face that can fit in anywhere.
So after a while this party suddenly ends, and everybody spills out onto the street. Andrea and I end up hopping into a random car with three other random Spanish people whom we have never met, nor spoken to until this point. But they seem to know where they´re going, so we figure it´s alright. We end up at this club somehow, and somehow we get in for free (don´t ask me why). When we get inside we see that, magically, Mila and her friends are there as well. So we hang out some more for a while. Later Mila´s friend wants to go to some other club, so we follow, but I really wish we hadn´t because we had to pay at this next place, and I had been laying the mack down on this cute Spanish dude who I had to leave before closing the deal. Damn it! That´s always my luck. So we hang out there for a while, and I get home at like 8. I knew this Madrid nightlife was going to kill me!
I really hung out with a lot of Spanish people this weekend. It´s fun because I want to meet Spanish people, but it´s so frustrating because I can´t speak Spanish, and I spend many a conversation just nodding and trying to laugh in the appropriate places. I do think, however, that my Spanish actually improves when I drink. No, seriously, it does. I´m not sure if this is because there are actually somehow more words at my disposal when intoxicated, or because when people are drunk there are really only like five topics of conversation or so that are frequently discussed, so as long as I know the key vocabulary for those, I´m set. My Spanish has improved though since I´ve been here. Improved..what am I talking about. I was at ground zero, so there´s no where to go but up. I understand slightly better than I speak, too, which is only natural I guess. I´m starting Spanish classes this week though, and I´m pretty excited about that. I hope it goes well. I hope I learn a lot. It is SO frustrating not being able to speak the language.
I´m starting teaching on Wednesday. Right now, I only have one class with a seven year old girl, but HOPEFULLY..I will get more hours soon. I hope it doesn´t take me too long to get up to full time. I need to start making some dough, yo. The whole school is really all in a flurry right now because they just moved offices, so I´m afraid it might take a little longer for them to get everybody squared away. But, eh, whatever. It´ll be okay I guess.
Oh, I also have more mullet news. I was talking to this fella Stephen who is in my TEFL course the other day at a pubnight put on by Canterbury. The drinks started flowing, and somehow mullets came up as the topic of conversation. Stephen is a little bit older than me, I think he´s 30. Apparently, back in the early to mid-80´s, he was rocking the mullet style in full force. And, get this, he even had the back PERMED. And, get this, his MOM did it for him. BWAAHAHAAHA. As you can probably imagine, learning this information threw me into a fit of gleefull revelry for at least five minutes. And you can imagine how quickly the news of Stephen´s mullet spread like wildfire through the TEFL course and beyond. Now, mullets have joined penises as a consistent theme in our class discussion topics.
Another thing about the mullet. As I explained previously, this heinous haircut is not uncommon here in Spain, though a number of the people I see sporting them do it rather stylishly. Nevertheless, Spanish people, upon having explained to them the humor associated with the mullet, seem to instinctively grasp how funny it is, and quickly start making fun of them themselves. Thursday night with Andrea´s capoeira friends, we told some of them about the mullet, and right away, they started laughing. If this keeps up, we may single handedly bring mullet-awareness to Spain, and, perhaps, dare I say it? eradicate its existence.
So I better go. Fuck, it´s still raining. I¨m going to get soaked walking home. And what about my laundry?? Ah, well, que sera sera.
So the random fifth roommate has finally shown up. His name is Andi and he is from Germany. He´s alright, as far as I can tell. I can´t quite tell if he´s going to be cool yet, but at least he doesn´t seem annoying or obnoxious. And he´s conscientious about cleaning up which is always a good thing. I´m not sure yet though if he has a personality. So far, he just seems to do whatever Simon tells him to do. Don´t get me wrong; I like Simon and I enjoy hanging out with him. But he is certainly a bossy boy, and usually I try to ignore him when he is being especially so. It´s funny actually, the different reactions Andi and I have to Simon-stimulous. I mean, if Simon tells me, no, you can get cheaper toilet paper at Sabeco than Champion, no, you should go to the bakery on San Bernardo for bread instead of Champion...what do I do? I go to Champion and tell him to stop acting like he knows more than me about everything in the world. Andi, on the other hand, believes Simon´s word is scripture and follows it to the letter. He goes where Simon wants him to go and says what he wants him to say. But eh, whatever. No skin off my noes I guess. I think Andi is just insecure or something. He´ll get better probably.
We have been having some adventures in the flat these past few days. One, we finally got a mailbox key, so now supposedly I can receive mail. IN CASE any of you want to MAIL me anything, my address is:
Chloe Bowen
San Bernardo 119
2o. Izq.
Madrid, 28015
SPAIN
Besides that, the other day a leak started randomly in the ceiling of the bathroom. Only a slight leak, but this can still lead to larger problem. So we told Jose the landlord and the dripping has stopped, but now there is this huge discoloration on the ceiling of the bathroom, and even worse on the wall of Andi´s room. I´m afraid it´s going to start to smell. Supposedly I think they´re going to paint over it, but who knows how long THAT could take. Well..at least we have a mailbox now.
And as much as I tease Simon about his anality, there is a good side to it. For example, he actually went out and bought a computer. And it was only like 150 euros! I mean, it´s a used computer and it´s pretty basic, but it has word, which is pretty much all I need. We also got a printer, so when I start teaching I can type up and print out lessons, which will be very, very helpful indeed. No internet, but still, this is a step up.
And Simon is continuing to be a real go-getter about accruing furniture for our flat from the street. Last night around 11:30 pm Andi, Simon and I were hanging out watching Operaction Triompho, the SPanish American Idol, and Pierre came home and said he saw a couch on a street not too far from our house. So we decided we should go get it for our flat. It was actually kind of a ways away. We decided to bring the shopping cart with us that, conveniently, was still hanging out in the hallway of our apartment from the last furniture-getting adventure. So we wheel the cart out onto the street and Pierre hops in and wants a ride. So we give it to him. We wheel him left, we wheel him right, we wheel him flying down the street. We all take turns riding down the streets of Madrid, midnight on a Monday, in a shopping cart from El Corte Ingles. It was classic. It was kind of like our own personal Jackass episode. Eventually we make it to the couch, which, luckily, was still there and not been snatched by some other furniture shoppers. It has no cushions, however. Minor detail! we say. So we lay the ugly green thing across the shopping cart and wheel it on home. Last time I saw it was last night and it was just kind of hanging out in the corner of the living room, looking sad and pathetic with its missing seat cushions, broken feat, and covered in dog hair. I´m hoping though that when I return home after being here I will find it cushioned and cleaned. I´m hoping Simon, being Simon, has already taken care of this.
So besides these apartment-adventures, I have been going out a bit too. I seem to fall in and out of love with somebody almost daily here. There is a superindentent for my building whom I sometimes see around in the halls and who sometimes randomly wanders into our apartment to fix something. He doesn´t speak English at all, so I say hola to him, but that´s about it. I hadn´t really give him a second thought, but apparently he was asking Pierre and Simon about me, and Pierre told him I was ¨on the market.¨ (Not IN the market, mind you, but ON the market..hmm..those silly Belgians). So Pierre told me this and I was like, oh great, THANKS Pierre. And he said, ¨I also tell him you don´t speak Spanish, and he say, ´ah, is better!´¨ Why do they always say that? I wonder if it IS better that way..I might have to give it a try. A relationship without speaking..could be interesting. Anyway, I´m not especially into this dude or anything, but after what they said, the last time I saw him I was so embarrassed I totally blew him off. No wonder I don´t have any luck with men. If they like me or I like them, my first reaction is to ignore them completely. Go me! Yea!
This last Thursday night I met up with my friend Andrea who is in my TEFL class and we went to see this capoeira exposition. Capoeira is a martial art that Andrea is really into..she goes to classes like three times a week. She´s pretty hardcore about it. IT was cool though, watching people flip all around in the air and spin on their heads and hop up and down on one hand. After that, we were hanging out with some of her capoeira friends, trying to figure out what to do. Everything just seems to take a beat longer to get decided here. In the meantime, someone opens up their car door and starts playing their stereo really loud out of it, so we dance in the street. Eventually, Andrea and I hop in the car with one of her friends and we drive to some random park where, somehow, magically, everybody from capoeira basically shows up. So we´re standing around in this park now, drinking rum and cokes and chatting. I think Andrea and I were the only Americans. She has a distinct advantage though, as she speaks Spanish and I do not. Random drunk Spaniards kept trying to talk to us. At one point, this dude comes up to us with a bottle of whiskey and wants us to take a shot. No way, we say, not without a chaser. So he wanders off to see if there´s any coke left, and apparently there´s not, because what he comes back with is, get this: an opened can of green olives and a bag of cashews. When given those two alternatives, which would you choose to wash down your whiskey? We chose the cashews. Anyway, eventually some radom friend of Andrea´s drives us home and I get to bed at like 7 o´clock.
So Simon had been looking around for a good source of hash (chocolate, as the Spaniards say). And apparently, he has found one. Friday evening, I was innocently in the living room, knitting away on a hat I was working on, when in walks Simon with three random dudes in tow. Apparently he met them in Retiro park somewhere where most of the dealing goes on. They were nice dudes. Two of them were black, from some random islands somewhere far far away, and the other one was Brasilian. He was cute, too, and he didn´t speak English either. Hmm.. Todo es la familia! said one of the random dudes, and we proceeded to hang out at the table there for a good few hours smoking the pot and drinking Champion brand cerveca. And we also got some most excellent hash out of the deal too. Good times, good times.
But no, that was not the end of my night. Indeed, it was just the beginning. Later I met up with Andrea and her Brasilian friend Mila, along with some of her random friends. We end up going to this random house party somewhere out in God Knows Where Madrid. Personally by this time I had the munchies something fierce so I spent more of the party stuffing my face with crackers and balogna sandwiches than drinking, but I did a fair bit of that too. Talked to a few people...Mila can speak English really well and she´s in the process of learning Spanish too since she speaks Portuguese in Brasil. She actually thought I was a Madrileno until I told her I was American, how funny is that? Actually I think I must look pretty Spanish because a lot of people seem to think I´m Spanish..until I open my mouth. I kind of have that European-blend face that can fit in anywhere.
So after a while this party suddenly ends, and everybody spills out onto the street. Andrea and I end up hopping into a random car with three other random Spanish people whom we have never met, nor spoken to until this point. But they seem to know where they´re going, so we figure it´s alright. We end up at this club somehow, and somehow we get in for free (don´t ask me why). When we get inside we see that, magically, Mila and her friends are there as well. So we hang out some more for a while. Later Mila´s friend wants to go to some other club, so we follow, but I really wish we hadn´t because we had to pay at this next place, and I had been laying the mack down on this cute Spanish dude who I had to leave before closing the deal. Damn it! That´s always my luck. So we hang out there for a while, and I get home at like 8. I knew this Madrid nightlife was going to kill me!
I really hung out with a lot of Spanish people this weekend. It´s fun because I want to meet Spanish people, but it´s so frustrating because I can´t speak Spanish, and I spend many a conversation just nodding and trying to laugh in the appropriate places. I do think, however, that my Spanish actually improves when I drink. No, seriously, it does. I´m not sure if this is because there are actually somehow more words at my disposal when intoxicated, or because when people are drunk there are really only like five topics of conversation or so that are frequently discussed, so as long as I know the key vocabulary for those, I´m set. My Spanish has improved though since I´ve been here. Improved..what am I talking about. I was at ground zero, so there´s no where to go but up. I understand slightly better than I speak, too, which is only natural I guess. I´m starting Spanish classes this week though, and I´m pretty excited about that. I hope it goes well. I hope I learn a lot. It is SO frustrating not being able to speak the language.
I´m starting teaching on Wednesday. Right now, I only have one class with a seven year old girl, but HOPEFULLY..I will get more hours soon. I hope it doesn´t take me too long to get up to full time. I need to start making some dough, yo. The whole school is really all in a flurry right now because they just moved offices, so I´m afraid it might take a little longer for them to get everybody squared away. But, eh, whatever. It´ll be okay I guess.
Oh, I also have more mullet news. I was talking to this fella Stephen who is in my TEFL course the other day at a pubnight put on by Canterbury. The drinks started flowing, and somehow mullets came up as the topic of conversation. Stephen is a little bit older than me, I think he´s 30. Apparently, back in the early to mid-80´s, he was rocking the mullet style in full force. And, get this, he even had the back PERMED. And, get this, his MOM did it for him. BWAAHAHAAHA. As you can probably imagine, learning this information threw me into a fit of gleefull revelry for at least five minutes. And you can imagine how quickly the news of Stephen´s mullet spread like wildfire through the TEFL course and beyond. Now, mullets have joined penises as a consistent theme in our class discussion topics.
Another thing about the mullet. As I explained previously, this heinous haircut is not uncommon here in Spain, though a number of the people I see sporting them do it rather stylishly. Nevertheless, Spanish people, upon having explained to them the humor associated with the mullet, seem to instinctively grasp how funny it is, and quickly start making fun of them themselves. Thursday night with Andrea´s capoeira friends, we told some of them about the mullet, and right away, they started laughing. If this keeps up, we may single handedly bring mullet-awareness to Spain, and, perhaps, dare I say it? eradicate its existence.
So I better go. Fuck, it´s still raining. I¨m going to get soaked walking home. And what about my laundry?? Ah, well, que sera sera.
Saturday, September 20, 2003
We had this pub night social thing for teachers at my school last night, and things got kind of..awkward. It was kind of bad actually. We were all talking, drinking, chatting, nothing major. Then the bar closed, and some of us, including two of our TEFL teachers, started walking somewhere else. But then, one of the TEFL teachers, John (coincidentally), started acting all weird...He was talking to my friend Tom for like half an hour about how good our TEFL class is, and how bad the afternoon class is, which is just totally innapropriate for a teacher to say to a student. And then, this one kid Nigel went up to joke with John, and John got really really angry at him and said he didn´t want to hear one more word of his English accent that night, or else he would punch him...And everyone was like..uhhh...okay. Heavy. So we kind of split off after that and went somewhere else. But was just WEIRD. And really awkward. I mean, no teacher should talk to a student like that, even if they´re a bad student and they don´t like him. I don´t think I thought the whole incident was as big of a deal but Nigel, Tom, and Phil did..they were really angry about it. Anyway, it just made me feel very awkward and strange and not sure about what the hell I´m doing.
I don´t know..I still feel weird about being here. I still don´t know how this is going to turn out. I still feel pretty uncomfortable or homesick a lot of the time. But the thing is my home is gone anyway..I don´t even have that home to go back to even if I wanted to. I mean, everyone has graduated, everyone has spread out. It´s over and done with. I just feel in limbo. Like, what the hell am I doing? I have two more weeks of class left...I kind of don´t want it to end. It gives me some structure. I get to see some people I like every day. When it´s over, I´ll be all alone again. I HATE feeling alone all the time! I still only know like 10 people. This is the same type of situation I´d be facing if I moved to a new place in the US where I didn´t know anyone..there´s no difference. Except, well, it´s harder because I don´t speak Spanish. I just feel so out of it..I´m always the odd one out. Everybody else seems to have some sort of partner in crime, but I don´t. That´s not true though of course..I´m not the only one without a partner, it just feels like that. I´m always the odd one. At the dinner table or the bar, people pair off in twos to chat..I always feel like it´s me left over.
I don´t know..I still feel weird about being here. I still don´t know how this is going to turn out. I still feel pretty uncomfortable or homesick a lot of the time. But the thing is my home is gone anyway..I don´t even have that home to go back to even if I wanted to. I mean, everyone has graduated, everyone has spread out. It´s over and done with. I just feel in limbo. Like, what the hell am I doing? I have two more weeks of class left...I kind of don´t want it to end. It gives me some structure. I get to see some people I like every day. When it´s over, I´ll be all alone again. I HATE feeling alone all the time! I still only know like 10 people. This is the same type of situation I´d be facing if I moved to a new place in the US where I didn´t know anyone..there´s no difference. Except, well, it´s harder because I don´t speak Spanish. I just feel so out of it..I´m always the odd one out. Everybody else seems to have some sort of partner in crime, but I don´t. That´s not true though of course..I´m not the only one without a partner, it just feels like that. I´m always the odd one. At the dinner table or the bar, people pair off in twos to chat..I always feel like it´s me left over.
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Hi all you cats and kittens. Well, it´s been another week. In general, I am beginning to start feeling settled. I still have random bouts of homesickness, but I think that´s probably going to go on for a while yet. My money from the ticket fiasco is now back safely in my bank account, which makes me feel a LOT better. My class is rolling along...I´ll probably start teaching here in a few weeks. I´m kind of nervous about that, but I´ll hopefully get over it quickly.
Okay, enough with business and introductions. What have I been up to? I´ve been hanging out with the kids from my class mostly. Cara and Emily the gay couple are some sweet-ass chicks, let me tell you. They´re my kind of people. They even play the ¨Dude, there´s your boyfriend¨ game! I couldn´t believe it when Cara whipped it out at a bar the other night. I was like, ¨No way! I thought my friends invented that game!¨ And there were definitely some good boyfriends to call out that night, as there always seem to be. There was of course a few mullets here and there, as well as the classic ¨that guy¨ on the dance floor, complete with back soaking with sweat and wildly gesticulating arms. Oh yes. Luckily, I managed to call him as Cara´s boyfriend before she could tag me with him. Touche!
Last Thursday Cara, Emily, Andrea, Tom, and I went out on the town for a bit. The nightlife here is weird...Things really don´t even start going until maybe 12:30 or one o´clock in the morning. Peak time at the bar or club is probably 3 am. Crazy! Anyway, we went to a bar at about 11 o´clock and spent a good two hours just chatting with each other, getting to know each other. They´re good people. Later we found this Cuban bar and that is where the fun really began. We were all a bit drunk by now, having consumed jointly two pitchers of sangria and two pitchers of blended mojito (I´d never had this drink before and oh my god is it good..mmmm...). The bar was pretty crowded; it was, after all, 2:30 in the morning by now.
Cara and I were sitting at a table talking when some random Spanish guys walked by the window and started making eyes at us. We sort of ignored them at first, smiled and laughed a bit. Then they started licking the glass. Then they came INTO the bar. Then they sat down with us. Then they bought us beer. Random dude number one started talking to Cara and random dude number two started harassing Emily, slobbering drunk all over her and talking about his resemblance to Bono from U2. Me, I just got a beer and didn´t even have to talk to the greasy Spanish guys. Sometimes, I just love being a girl. Instead I talked to the nice (but kind of old) British guys behind me. There was also a Spanish guy with them named Hannibal, which I thought was kind of funny.
So the night progresses. We start flirting with the Cuban bartenders. They don´t believe that Cara and Emily are a couple. That is, they don´t believe it until they start making out in front of them. Oh my God..I wish I had had my camera, it was so funny: these three bartenders behind the bar just STARING, wide eyed, at these two girls making out in front of them. If I had been able to take a photo, it would have been National Geographic-worthy I´m sure of it. So we talk to the bartenders some more. I got propositioned for a three-way with two of them, but I turned them down. They were serious too, no joke! One of the bartenders whipped out these photos that he just ¨happened¨ to have behind the bar of himself scantily clad in boxer briefs sprawled out on various bedroom furniture in seductive poses. We couldn´t help but wonder how often he brings out these pictures, and how often they actually work in closing the deal. And I also wonder, who took these pictures anyway?
So that bar was fun. But...I must tell you what happened last night. Andrea, Cara, Emily and I decided to experience some fine Spanish culture, so we went to see the local performance of Puppetry of the Penis. Perhaps you´ve heard of it? It started in Australia, but it´s been all over the world. These guys get up on stage and streach, pull and twist their pensises into all sorts of various animals, transportation vehicles, and cultural icons.
Although all of the talking was in Spanish, I think I still got most of the important bits (no pun intended) of the play. Even if I can´t speak his language, I can still recognize when a man streaches his penis into a replica of the Eiffel Tower, a kangaroo, a hamburger, or a didjeridoo. I still cannot get over the didjeridoo. This guy managed to streach his penis out to like, I swear to God, two feet, and ¨play¨ it like a didjeridoo. He´s done what most men only ever dream of doing!
I still can´t get over this show. I paid 16 euros to see grown men (albeit, pretty hott men) stand up on a stage wearing nothing but their socks and sneakers and play with their weenises. Oh, but I personally also got something a little extra special out of the show...
So. As is common with comedy theater, part of the two-man show required a ¨volunteer¨ from the audience. So who did they choose? You guessed it. Me. I did not volunteer for this, by the way, if any of you were thinking so. There just must have been something in my eye that made me look like I´d cooperate. So on of the naked men runs out in the audience and forces me up out of my seat. ¨But I don´t speak Spanish!!¨ I cry. ¨No, is okay! Is better!¨ the naked man says. So before I know what is happening I find myself on stage, standing between two buck-ass naked Spaniards, holding their hands (which, incidentally, had just been on their dicks). While I´m talking to the first naked man, the second one slowly but surely inches my hand towards his package, until I suddenly realize it, shriek and pull my hand back. I definitely touched some pube though. Ew.
They ask me my name and I say Chloe. ¨Cloudy!¨they say, and proceed to make various puns. With my assistance, the two men turn their penises into propellers on an airplane, with me at the controls. I steer us left, I steer us right, I steer us straight ahead. For the next skit the first naked man wants to turn his penis into a bat. And what do bats do? They hang upside down. So now I find myself holding upright the spread legs of a naked man standing on his hands. This is an angle from which I had never seen a man before, and I´m not sure it´s one I´d like to see again. All the while this is going on the other naked man to my right talks to the audience about ha ha, look at the funny American girl. If any of you are having a hard time picturing this, don´t worry; they took a polaroid, which I got to keep. This is my first photo of myself here in Spain. I´ll treasure it forever.
So this was an experience, to say the least. I´ve always kind of dreamed about having two penises all to myself, but I never imagined it would be like this. And I was thinking..this isn´t even the first time something like this has happened to me. When I was in Prague, this male stripper in a club selected me out of the croud to sit me down in a chair and rub his crotch all over me. I don´t know..I guess I´m just lucky. I just must have that kind of face.
Okay, enough with business and introductions. What have I been up to? I´ve been hanging out with the kids from my class mostly. Cara and Emily the gay couple are some sweet-ass chicks, let me tell you. They´re my kind of people. They even play the ¨Dude, there´s your boyfriend¨ game! I couldn´t believe it when Cara whipped it out at a bar the other night. I was like, ¨No way! I thought my friends invented that game!¨ And there were definitely some good boyfriends to call out that night, as there always seem to be. There was of course a few mullets here and there, as well as the classic ¨that guy¨ on the dance floor, complete with back soaking with sweat and wildly gesticulating arms. Oh yes. Luckily, I managed to call him as Cara´s boyfriend before she could tag me with him. Touche!
Last Thursday Cara, Emily, Andrea, Tom, and I went out on the town for a bit. The nightlife here is weird...Things really don´t even start going until maybe 12:30 or one o´clock in the morning. Peak time at the bar or club is probably 3 am. Crazy! Anyway, we went to a bar at about 11 o´clock and spent a good two hours just chatting with each other, getting to know each other. They´re good people. Later we found this Cuban bar and that is where the fun really began. We were all a bit drunk by now, having consumed jointly two pitchers of sangria and two pitchers of blended mojito (I´d never had this drink before and oh my god is it good..mmmm...). The bar was pretty crowded; it was, after all, 2:30 in the morning by now.
Cara and I were sitting at a table talking when some random Spanish guys walked by the window and started making eyes at us. We sort of ignored them at first, smiled and laughed a bit. Then they started licking the glass. Then they came INTO the bar. Then they sat down with us. Then they bought us beer. Random dude number one started talking to Cara and random dude number two started harassing Emily, slobbering drunk all over her and talking about his resemblance to Bono from U2. Me, I just got a beer and didn´t even have to talk to the greasy Spanish guys. Sometimes, I just love being a girl. Instead I talked to the nice (but kind of old) British guys behind me. There was also a Spanish guy with them named Hannibal, which I thought was kind of funny.
So the night progresses. We start flirting with the Cuban bartenders. They don´t believe that Cara and Emily are a couple. That is, they don´t believe it until they start making out in front of them. Oh my God..I wish I had had my camera, it was so funny: these three bartenders behind the bar just STARING, wide eyed, at these two girls making out in front of them. If I had been able to take a photo, it would have been National Geographic-worthy I´m sure of it. So we talk to the bartenders some more. I got propositioned for a three-way with two of them, but I turned them down. They were serious too, no joke! One of the bartenders whipped out these photos that he just ¨happened¨ to have behind the bar of himself scantily clad in boxer briefs sprawled out on various bedroom furniture in seductive poses. We couldn´t help but wonder how often he brings out these pictures, and how often they actually work in closing the deal. And I also wonder, who took these pictures anyway?
So that bar was fun. But...I must tell you what happened last night. Andrea, Cara, Emily and I decided to experience some fine Spanish culture, so we went to see the local performance of Puppetry of the Penis. Perhaps you´ve heard of it? It started in Australia, but it´s been all over the world. These guys get up on stage and streach, pull and twist their pensises into all sorts of various animals, transportation vehicles, and cultural icons.
Although all of the talking was in Spanish, I think I still got most of the important bits (no pun intended) of the play. Even if I can´t speak his language, I can still recognize when a man streaches his penis into a replica of the Eiffel Tower, a kangaroo, a hamburger, or a didjeridoo. I still cannot get over the didjeridoo. This guy managed to streach his penis out to like, I swear to God, two feet, and ¨play¨ it like a didjeridoo. He´s done what most men only ever dream of doing!
I still can´t get over this show. I paid 16 euros to see grown men (albeit, pretty hott men) stand up on a stage wearing nothing but their socks and sneakers and play with their weenises. Oh, but I personally also got something a little extra special out of the show...
So. As is common with comedy theater, part of the two-man show required a ¨volunteer¨ from the audience. So who did they choose? You guessed it. Me. I did not volunteer for this, by the way, if any of you were thinking so. There just must have been something in my eye that made me look like I´d cooperate. So on of the naked men runs out in the audience and forces me up out of my seat. ¨But I don´t speak Spanish!!¨ I cry. ¨No, is okay! Is better!¨ the naked man says. So before I know what is happening I find myself on stage, standing between two buck-ass naked Spaniards, holding their hands (which, incidentally, had just been on their dicks). While I´m talking to the first naked man, the second one slowly but surely inches my hand towards his package, until I suddenly realize it, shriek and pull my hand back. I definitely touched some pube though. Ew.
They ask me my name and I say Chloe. ¨Cloudy!¨they say, and proceed to make various puns. With my assistance, the two men turn their penises into propellers on an airplane, with me at the controls. I steer us left, I steer us right, I steer us straight ahead. For the next skit the first naked man wants to turn his penis into a bat. And what do bats do? They hang upside down. So now I find myself holding upright the spread legs of a naked man standing on his hands. This is an angle from which I had never seen a man before, and I´m not sure it´s one I´d like to see again. All the while this is going on the other naked man to my right talks to the audience about ha ha, look at the funny American girl. If any of you are having a hard time picturing this, don´t worry; they took a polaroid, which I got to keep. This is my first photo of myself here in Spain. I´ll treasure it forever.
So this was an experience, to say the least. I´ve always kind of dreamed about having two penises all to myself, but I never imagined it would be like this. And I was thinking..this isn´t even the first time something like this has happened to me. When I was in Prague, this male stripper in a club selected me out of the croud to sit me down in a chair and rub his crotch all over me. I don´t know..I guess I´m just lucky. I just must have that kind of face.
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
Well, guys, I´ve been doing a lot better since the last time I wrote. I´ve been settling in here more, and I´ve met a few people. I ACTUALLY went out last week -- twice! I met this American girl on the fifth floor of my building, so I decided to go up and say hello the other day. Consequently, I met the other people in her flat as well. So last week I went out to a few bars with them at got my first Spanish hangover! Sweet!
Amber is American. She seems pretty cool. Her boyfriend is from Argentina. He´s a bartender in a few of the bars around here which means they have the hookup when it comes to free drinks, which is always a good thing. Ben and Enron (I know, funny name, ha ha) are English. All these guys are English teachers, cept for Enron who is actually an instructor at a TEFL course. Melissa is American and she´ll be a teacher too, and Tonya is German. These kids seem cool enough, but I can tell though that I don´t think they are really entirely my type of people. I think after I make some better friends, I´ll probably be hanging out with them less.
I also caught my first Spanish cold last week, so I´ve been coughing and sneezing a lot. I made fun of Simon saying I caught SARS when I flew through Canada. I like making fun of Simon. Hee hee.
What else exciting has happened to me...oh yes. I went to this big park here in Madrid last weekend to just sort of chill out a bit, have some time to myself, and this dirty old man propositioned me for sex. Eeeew! I HATE that. I was sitting near a tree, minding my own business, and this skank ball comes up to me and starts talking to me in Spanish. I tell him I can´t understand him, and he keeps talking to me anyway. It becomes pretty clear pretty quickly what he is after, but, being the good, well-trained American I am, I don´t want to be rude. I want to be nice! I want to be polite! So instead of kneeing him in the crotch or trying to leave I sort of ignore him and pretend that´s not what he REALLY wants. But when he performed the international hand signal for sex, that being making your hands into fists and thrusting them back and forth to the rhythm of one´s pelvic thrusting, I couldn´t ignore reality anymore, and I got up and left. Ugh. Dirty little pervert.
And I started my class on Monday. I was really, really hoping that I would like some of the other people in the class, and I really think I´m going to. There are a lot of west coasters! Andrea is from Seattle but went to school in Hawaii. Cara and Emily are a lesbian couple from the bay area and they seem super-cool. Stephen is a cognitive psychology PhD student and he seems the type. I can tell that he is super, super smart and very bookish. He´s like the classic TA. Very analytical I think. Daniel is just some dude and he´s kind of irritating and has an obnoxious laugh and always makes stupid comments in class. There always has to be one like that, right? Tom is this British guy, and I can already tell we are going to be fast friends. I think we´re a lot alike in some ways. He´s just so goofy and English, ít´s funny. He also lives right across the street from me right now which is cool. Nick is another guy in my class, and he lives in my building right below me. He also seems like an interesting fellow. I could see myself really liking him too. But..he´s only 18!! I can´t imagine doing this when I was only 18. I think back to all the little freshmen I had in my Opening Days groups, and this kid is way more mature than any of them ever were. He doesn´t seem 18 at all. Before I knew how old he was I would have guessed 22 or 23 at least. Woa. But he´s cool. Very shy though. The kind of shy that can come off as too-cool-for-school, but I can tell it´s just that he´s shy.
And the class itself seems fine. I wasn´t really worried about the class itself, I was just worried about the people in it! But now it seems everything is settling in and working out. I feel a lot better here. And I think my mom figured out that whole plane ticket business, and I should be getting all of the money back. So things are definitely looking up.
Amber is American. She seems pretty cool. Her boyfriend is from Argentina. He´s a bartender in a few of the bars around here which means they have the hookup when it comes to free drinks, which is always a good thing. Ben and Enron (I know, funny name, ha ha) are English. All these guys are English teachers, cept for Enron who is actually an instructor at a TEFL course. Melissa is American and she´ll be a teacher too, and Tonya is German. These kids seem cool enough, but I can tell though that I don´t think they are really entirely my type of people. I think after I make some better friends, I´ll probably be hanging out with them less.
I also caught my first Spanish cold last week, so I´ve been coughing and sneezing a lot. I made fun of Simon saying I caught SARS when I flew through Canada. I like making fun of Simon. Hee hee.
What else exciting has happened to me...oh yes. I went to this big park here in Madrid last weekend to just sort of chill out a bit, have some time to myself, and this dirty old man propositioned me for sex. Eeeew! I HATE that. I was sitting near a tree, minding my own business, and this skank ball comes up to me and starts talking to me in Spanish. I tell him I can´t understand him, and he keeps talking to me anyway. It becomes pretty clear pretty quickly what he is after, but, being the good, well-trained American I am, I don´t want to be rude. I want to be nice! I want to be polite! So instead of kneeing him in the crotch or trying to leave I sort of ignore him and pretend that´s not what he REALLY wants. But when he performed the international hand signal for sex, that being making your hands into fists and thrusting them back and forth to the rhythm of one´s pelvic thrusting, I couldn´t ignore reality anymore, and I got up and left. Ugh. Dirty little pervert.
And I started my class on Monday. I was really, really hoping that I would like some of the other people in the class, and I really think I´m going to. There are a lot of west coasters! Andrea is from Seattle but went to school in Hawaii. Cara and Emily are a lesbian couple from the bay area and they seem super-cool. Stephen is a cognitive psychology PhD student and he seems the type. I can tell that he is super, super smart and very bookish. He´s like the classic TA. Very analytical I think. Daniel is just some dude and he´s kind of irritating and has an obnoxious laugh and always makes stupid comments in class. There always has to be one like that, right? Tom is this British guy, and I can already tell we are going to be fast friends. I think we´re a lot alike in some ways. He´s just so goofy and English, ít´s funny. He also lives right across the street from me right now which is cool. Nick is another guy in my class, and he lives in my building right below me. He also seems like an interesting fellow. I could see myself really liking him too. But..he´s only 18!! I can´t imagine doing this when I was only 18. I think back to all the little freshmen I had in my Opening Days groups, and this kid is way more mature than any of them ever were. He doesn´t seem 18 at all. Before I knew how old he was I would have guessed 22 or 23 at least. Woa. But he´s cool. Very shy though. The kind of shy that can come off as too-cool-for-school, but I can tell it´s just that he´s shy.
And the class itself seems fine. I wasn´t really worried about the class itself, I was just worried about the people in it! But now it seems everything is settling in and working out. I feel a lot better here. And I think my mom figured out that whole plane ticket business, and I should be getting all of the money back. So things are definitely looking up.
Sunday, September 07, 2003
I always seem to have this problem abroad...It´s weird..when I was in Prague, I felt like I just didn´t gel very well at all with most of the people on my program. I´m not sure what it was that I didn´t really like about them..I just didn´t fit. I think we´ve talked about this before so hopefully you know what I mean. But..I feel like that is happening again here. I´ve met some people who live on the fifth floor, which is great. I´ve ACTUALLY gone out a few times now. :) But..I can already tell...some of them I think I like, but some others..I know they are that type, that type that I just don´t jive with. I don´t know what it is. It´s like..these people I don´t gel with..they´re often from the east coast, they have money and you can tell, you know what I mean? They go out drinking all the all the all the time...don´t get me wrong, I like to go out drinking too, but I like other things as well. They just..I don´t know what it is! First of all, I don´t feel fully accepted by them, and second off, I myself don´t actually like them very much either. Heh. Maybe they can tell and that´s why I don´t feel accepted. I mean, I can´t quite tell if it´s they not accepting me or I not accepting them. I don´t know what it is! And I don´t know what to do about it. I don´t think there is anything I can do. I mean, I don´t think there´s anything going WRONG here..it´s just, we´re not the same kind of people. So, I guess the solution is..find people I do gel with! But it´s hard because I don´t know anyone else, at least not at the moment. So..I´m continuing to hang out with them, though I know as soon as I have an alternative, I probably will less.
It´s kind of like when I first came to Willamette. Did this happen to you? At least with me, what happened was those first few weeks I hung around with the few people I knew, mostly from my OD group and my dorm, but very quickly I found out I didn´t actually like these people. But luckily Willamette was such a place that I could find people I DID like, though I think it took me a bit longer than most. Do you know what I mean though? Have you ever had this experience?
It´s like...I´m not sure if it´s an issue of..the typical type of person who moves abroad is typically not the type of person I like, or...if it´s just..there is only a small percentage of people I meet in general that I actually DO like, know what I mean? I was kind of talking to my brother about something like this before I left. He said, he really actually likes like 90% of the people he meets. Me, I would say it´s more like..20% maybe? 15%? Is that odd? I think it´s just different. Ugh..so many people just seem so shallow, maybe that´s what I don´t like. Or so fake. Like I don´t think I could ever have a seroius conversation with them. Also, I think our sense of humor is different, and that´s an issue too. But..I do think I have the potential to actually be friends with some of the people I´ve met, just not all of them. There´s one girl in particular named Melissa who has got me on my guard already. I don´t know what it is about her I don´t trust...She just, the way she speaks is kind of strange, kind of prententious, the way she intones her words, do you know what I mean? What she´s saying may be just fine, it´s the way she says it. Personally, I find her rather annoying, but everyone else likes her! That´s what I don´t get. Do they not see the same thing I see? Hmm. Maybe I´m wrong though, maybe she´s a just fine person. But then why would I have this bad feeling about her?
It´s kind of like when I first came to Willamette. Did this happen to you? At least with me, what happened was those first few weeks I hung around with the few people I knew, mostly from my OD group and my dorm, but very quickly I found out I didn´t actually like these people. But luckily Willamette was such a place that I could find people I DID like, though I think it took me a bit longer than most. Do you know what I mean though? Have you ever had this experience?
It´s like...I´m not sure if it´s an issue of..the typical type of person who moves abroad is typically not the type of person I like, or...if it´s just..there is only a small percentage of people I meet in general that I actually DO like, know what I mean? I was kind of talking to my brother about something like this before I left. He said, he really actually likes like 90% of the people he meets. Me, I would say it´s more like..20% maybe? 15%? Is that odd? I think it´s just different. Ugh..so many people just seem so shallow, maybe that´s what I don´t like. Or so fake. Like I don´t think I could ever have a seroius conversation with them. Also, I think our sense of humor is different, and that´s an issue too. But..I do think I have the potential to actually be friends with some of the people I´ve met, just not all of them. There´s one girl in particular named Melissa who has got me on my guard already. I don´t know what it is about her I don´t trust...She just, the way she speaks is kind of strange, kind of prententious, the way she intones her words, do you know what I mean? What she´s saying may be just fine, it´s the way she says it. Personally, I find her rather annoying, but everyone else likes her! That´s what I don´t get. Do they not see the same thing I see? Hmm. Maybe I´m wrong though, maybe she´s a just fine person. But then why would I have this bad feeling about her?
Thursday, September 04, 2003
Well. Well. I just don´t know. I don´t know how I feel right now. I feel kind of sad I guess, even when I´m having fun. I just feel like I´m on the oustide of everything. My roommates talk in Spanish and I can´t understand. I went out with my new friends from the fifth floor last night, but I was the odd man out for much of the evening. I´m trying to be outgoing, starting conversations, making chit chat, but it´s hard. It all seems like so much work. Besides, I don´t even know for sure if these guys are my type of people. I like Amber, Ben, Tonya, and Enron but I don´t think I like Melissa. There is just something about her that rubs me the wrong way. She just seems kind of fake, or...kind of..I can´t really put my finger on it. Pompous? Why doesn´t anyone else see this but me though? I don´t understand that. I mean, she´s nice and everything, but I definitely cannot see myself getting close to her or really being friends with her outside of her connection to other people. And yet, she´s more in the group than I am. I guess she´s known Eran for a while..but still. I just don´t know.
This is turning out to be so hard for me. I mean, I guess I expected it to be hard, I might even say I WANTED it to be hard, but still! The problems I´m having meeting people and stuff are really the same problems I´d be having if I had moved somewhere in the US where I didn´t know anyone, only I guess it´s a bit harder because of the language thing. I wish my roommates didn´t speak Spanish all the time. I feel so left out. I mean, I take part when I can, and they´re all really nice to me, but there´s only so much you can do when you can´t understand what people are saying. God, it is SO FRUSTRATING. The novelty is really wearing off.
I just don´t know what else I can do though. Baby steps, baby steps. I think going up to the fifth floor like I did yesterday was a good move on my part..I took a little risk and it worked out really well. That probably wouldn´t even be a risk for most people, visiting somebody´s apartment after they invited you to come over sometime, but it kind of was for me! What am I so afraid of? If someone wanted to talk to me on the street, or in the hall, or in the grocery store, or a bar, or wherever, I would definitely talk to them! Well, most people. :) But I have such a problem with it, such a problem.
I feel so alone right now, probably the most alone I´ve felt since I was 9 and we moved to Washington. That´s kind of surprising, if you think about it, that I chose to put myself in a situation where I would have to be so isolated again. I hadn´t really thought of that before. I mean, one of the things I hate most in the world is being alone, and here I have made myself be alone by choice! I do hope I grow from this experience, but I don´t really see how I could not.
And it´s feels so weird but I really miss my mom. I really want to see her. Or at least talk to her. I´ve never missed my mom like this before, at least not since I was a little little kid. I feel like I´m devolving back to childhood or something. Maybe I just want to be protected, and I associate my mom with protection. It´s probably something like that.
I could use some friends too, that´s for sure. Some real friends, whom I can really talk to about real things instead of just the bullshit you talk to people you don´t know very well about. I want someone who knows my history. Someone to fee close to! I really want a hug, a serious hug. I´m really looking forward to talking to Jeff..I hope to catch him next week.
I don´t know I don´t know I don´t know...I´m bored right now. Next week though, next week. Hopefully next week I will start having fun. One day at a time.
This is turning out to be so hard for me. I mean, I guess I expected it to be hard, I might even say I WANTED it to be hard, but still! The problems I´m having meeting people and stuff are really the same problems I´d be having if I had moved somewhere in the US where I didn´t know anyone, only I guess it´s a bit harder because of the language thing. I wish my roommates didn´t speak Spanish all the time. I feel so left out. I mean, I take part when I can, and they´re all really nice to me, but there´s only so much you can do when you can´t understand what people are saying. God, it is SO FRUSTRATING. The novelty is really wearing off.
I just don´t know what else I can do though. Baby steps, baby steps. I think going up to the fifth floor like I did yesterday was a good move on my part..I took a little risk and it worked out really well. That probably wouldn´t even be a risk for most people, visiting somebody´s apartment after they invited you to come over sometime, but it kind of was for me! What am I so afraid of? If someone wanted to talk to me on the street, or in the hall, or in the grocery store, or a bar, or wherever, I would definitely talk to them! Well, most people. :) But I have such a problem with it, such a problem.
I feel so alone right now, probably the most alone I´ve felt since I was 9 and we moved to Washington. That´s kind of surprising, if you think about it, that I chose to put myself in a situation where I would have to be so isolated again. I hadn´t really thought of that before. I mean, one of the things I hate most in the world is being alone, and here I have made myself be alone by choice! I do hope I grow from this experience, but I don´t really see how I could not.
And it´s feels so weird but I really miss my mom. I really want to see her. Or at least talk to her. I´ve never missed my mom like this before, at least not since I was a little little kid. I feel like I´m devolving back to childhood or something. Maybe I just want to be protected, and I associate my mom with protection. It´s probably something like that.
I could use some friends too, that´s for sure. Some real friends, whom I can really talk to about real things instead of just the bullshit you talk to people you don´t know very well about. I want someone who knows my history. Someone to fee close to! I really want a hug, a serious hug. I´m really looking forward to talking to Jeff..I hope to catch him next week.
I don´t know I don´t know I don´t know...I´m bored right now. Next week though, next week. Hopefully next week I will start having fun. One day at a time.
Wednesday, September 03, 2003
Hola, mes amigos! I hope this email finds you all alive and well. Me, I am doing a fair bit better than last week. I have spent most of the past few days settling into life here, figuring out where to buy toilet paper, where to buy socks, etc. Things get easier the more you try.
Lately I´ve been mostly hanging out with my three roommates. Really, they are the only people I know here. I so feel like I´m living the life of the guy in the film L´Auberge Espagnol, or life in a Spanish Real World. I´m starting my TEFL course next week, and I´m really looking forward to it, as it will give me a chance to meet a lot more people. I hope at least some of the other students in the course are cool.
My roommates are all alright. Cristina is Spanish, and she doesn´t speak English. It´s funny...I´ve never had an extended conversation with someone who doesn´t speak the same language as me before, but it´s kind of fun actually. Instead of using so many words, we use more hand signals and body language. And we use the dictionary, and we smile a lot. It´s weird...I can´t really talk to her, but I really like her. I think she´s kind of anorexic though..she never eats anything. Just drinks coke and smokes cigarettes. And there is some question surrounding her sexual preference. She brought over this friend the other day who was rather butch, and I saw them kiss. And later the two of them went out somewhere, and when they came back, they had a gay rainbow flag with them. I have no idea where they got it or what they were doing with it...Simon and I were trying to figure it out, but we´re not sure.
Last Saturday Cristina took me out with some of her friends to a party in a friends apartment. Oh my God, it was so weird. None of these kids really spoke English. I felt like the foreign exchange student in Can´t Hardly Wait. The party was surreal. We entered the apartment to the sound of Fiddy Scent playing in the background, and I thought, well, things aren´t so different after all. Only, they dance DIRTY in Spain! You should´ve seen them, it made ME blush. Oh my.
Pierre is my Belgian roommate. He is such a Communist. I mean seriously. He really wants the workers of the world to unite and overthrow the bourgeoisie. He´s nice, but all he ever talks about is politics. And it´s hard, because when he´s talking to me about Marx or Engels or Lenin or whomever, I really can only understand maybe two thirds of what he is saying because he doesn´t speak English that well. I mean, he speaks English perfectly fine for most things, but when you´re trying to talk about philosophical ideas, it gets a little harder to express yourself correctly. And I don´t think he entirely understands what I´m saying either. But he´s nice though. I think he would be happiest in life if he were living the life of the philosophe 100 years ago in Bohemia, drinking his laudenum or absinthe and talking about the state of the world. This morning, I accidentally saw him in his underwear. AH!!
Simon is the Quebecois. He is a total neat freak. He´s nice but..geeze, he´s really bossy. Cristina and I make fun of him together. He really doesn´t like the United States. He´s always talking shit to me about our government, and he totally doesn´t understand why it bothers me to hear him say all these bad things about my country, even IF I agree with him on most points. He just doesn´t see how that´s offensive. I tried to explain to him for half an hour yesterday why you shouldn´t go around saying the word ¨fag¨ to people because ít´s offensive, and he just could not see my point. He just didn´t understand that their are certain words or expressions that, no matter who you are and whom you are saying them to, are offensive. The other annoying thing about him is that he thinks his way is the only way to do everything, and he won´t listen to what you have to say. He´s very contrary. And he thinks he knows everything about everything. Augh. But still, I don´t mean to say so many negative things about him. He´s a nice enough guy. He likes to listen to Celine Dion, which I think is hillarious. It IS better to have a roommate that is too clean than a rooommate that is too messy, that´s for sure. And he keeps finding furniture in the street that other people have thrown away and bringing it up to our flat for us to use, which is cool. The other day we salvaged this broken down dresser table thing in the style of Louis XIV to use as our TV stand. Sweet!
So yea, I´ve been hanging with the roommates, watching some Spanish TV. Everything is dubbed though. They only export the worst crap from America to show here. For example, I have had the priviledge to watch Family Matters, Baywatch, and Boy Meets World all in Spanish. Aren´t you jealous!
Also, I have been smoking The Pot quite a bit with Simon and Cristina. Man oh man, my brother told me they smoke a lot of hash here, and he was right. I´ve never really smoked hash before, so it´s kind of different for me. I don´t think I get as stoned as with good old fashioned weed, or maybe I´m just not smoking enough. And they all roll joints, so I´m trying to learn how to do that. I taught them all how to use a bobbypin as a roach clip, but I don´t think they were impressed.
It´s weird, I´m learning both Spanish and French at the same time. I practice my French with Pierre and Simon, and I learn Spanish with Cristina. I now know how to say ¨Simon is bossy¨ in Spanish (One of the first phrases I learned). But it´s kind of hard because I feel like my brain is split, like I can only give half my energy to either. I´m not going to be able to take Spanish for like another month until my TEFL course is over, so until then I´ll just learn what I need to know on my own and get used to hearning the Spanish lisp.
Also, some of you may have been wondering about the state of the mullet here in Espania. Well, I´m here to tell you, yes, the Spanish mullet is alive and well. But do not dispair! Most of them are actually done pretty stylishly. I even saw one on a model in a store window! They usually aren´t permed, but often times the hair is colored, either bleached blond, or died some strange shade of pink or blue. I think over here, the mullet has maintained some of its traditional connotations. I think they are largely associated with The Rebel achetype, as I have seen a number of them on people dressed in the Punk style, cut very short on the top, and reaching down to the shoulders in the back. This particular form of mullet is almost a cross between a mullet and a mohawk actually. Very interesting. Still, in contrast, more in keeping with the contemporary American mullet, I did see some woman sporting the classic 10/90 and wearing a t-shirt that said, ¨Donde est a mi Cervesa?¨ Now, okay, I don´t speak Spanish, but even I know what that means.
Besides that, I have of course been checking out lots of museums and stuff. Most of them have at least one day a week where admission is free, which is awesome. There is a lot of art here. There´s a lot of art everywhere in Europe it seems. It´s all pretty cool, but it all starts to look the same after a while! You can only stare at so many Rubens and Delacroixs until they start to blend together. I like the more contemporary stuff better, of which there is a fair bit in Madrid.
So that´s me, da dee da. I´m kind of bored right now, waiting for my class to start. I hope everything with that goes okay. I have got to start going out more and meeting people, or else I´m going to go crazy!
I hope to hear from you all soon, ciao
Jessie/Chloe
Lately I´ve been mostly hanging out with my three roommates. Really, they are the only people I know here. I so feel like I´m living the life of the guy in the film L´Auberge Espagnol, or life in a Spanish Real World. I´m starting my TEFL course next week, and I´m really looking forward to it, as it will give me a chance to meet a lot more people. I hope at least some of the other students in the course are cool.
My roommates are all alright. Cristina is Spanish, and she doesn´t speak English. It´s funny...I´ve never had an extended conversation with someone who doesn´t speak the same language as me before, but it´s kind of fun actually. Instead of using so many words, we use more hand signals and body language. And we use the dictionary, and we smile a lot. It´s weird...I can´t really talk to her, but I really like her. I think she´s kind of anorexic though..she never eats anything. Just drinks coke and smokes cigarettes. And there is some question surrounding her sexual preference. She brought over this friend the other day who was rather butch, and I saw them kiss. And later the two of them went out somewhere, and when they came back, they had a gay rainbow flag with them. I have no idea where they got it or what they were doing with it...Simon and I were trying to figure it out, but we´re not sure.
Last Saturday Cristina took me out with some of her friends to a party in a friends apartment. Oh my God, it was so weird. None of these kids really spoke English. I felt like the foreign exchange student in Can´t Hardly Wait. The party was surreal. We entered the apartment to the sound of Fiddy Scent playing in the background, and I thought, well, things aren´t so different after all. Only, they dance DIRTY in Spain! You should´ve seen them, it made ME blush. Oh my.
Pierre is my Belgian roommate. He is such a Communist. I mean seriously. He really wants the workers of the world to unite and overthrow the bourgeoisie. He´s nice, but all he ever talks about is politics. And it´s hard, because when he´s talking to me about Marx or Engels or Lenin or whomever, I really can only understand maybe two thirds of what he is saying because he doesn´t speak English that well. I mean, he speaks English perfectly fine for most things, but when you´re trying to talk about philosophical ideas, it gets a little harder to express yourself correctly. And I don´t think he entirely understands what I´m saying either. But he´s nice though. I think he would be happiest in life if he were living the life of the philosophe 100 years ago in Bohemia, drinking his laudenum or absinthe and talking about the state of the world. This morning, I accidentally saw him in his underwear. AH!!
Simon is the Quebecois. He is a total neat freak. He´s nice but..geeze, he´s really bossy. Cristina and I make fun of him together. He really doesn´t like the United States. He´s always talking shit to me about our government, and he totally doesn´t understand why it bothers me to hear him say all these bad things about my country, even IF I agree with him on most points. He just doesn´t see how that´s offensive. I tried to explain to him for half an hour yesterday why you shouldn´t go around saying the word ¨fag¨ to people because ít´s offensive, and he just could not see my point. He just didn´t understand that their are certain words or expressions that, no matter who you are and whom you are saying them to, are offensive. The other annoying thing about him is that he thinks his way is the only way to do everything, and he won´t listen to what you have to say. He´s very contrary. And he thinks he knows everything about everything. Augh. But still, I don´t mean to say so many negative things about him. He´s a nice enough guy. He likes to listen to Celine Dion, which I think is hillarious. It IS better to have a roommate that is too clean than a rooommate that is too messy, that´s for sure. And he keeps finding furniture in the street that other people have thrown away and bringing it up to our flat for us to use, which is cool. The other day we salvaged this broken down dresser table thing in the style of Louis XIV to use as our TV stand. Sweet!
So yea, I´ve been hanging with the roommates, watching some Spanish TV. Everything is dubbed though. They only export the worst crap from America to show here. For example, I have had the priviledge to watch Family Matters, Baywatch, and Boy Meets World all in Spanish. Aren´t you jealous!
Also, I have been smoking The Pot quite a bit with Simon and Cristina. Man oh man, my brother told me they smoke a lot of hash here, and he was right. I´ve never really smoked hash before, so it´s kind of different for me. I don´t think I get as stoned as with good old fashioned weed, or maybe I´m just not smoking enough. And they all roll joints, so I´m trying to learn how to do that. I taught them all how to use a bobbypin as a roach clip, but I don´t think they were impressed.
It´s weird, I´m learning both Spanish and French at the same time. I practice my French with Pierre and Simon, and I learn Spanish with Cristina. I now know how to say ¨Simon is bossy¨ in Spanish (One of the first phrases I learned). But it´s kind of hard because I feel like my brain is split, like I can only give half my energy to either. I´m not going to be able to take Spanish for like another month until my TEFL course is over, so until then I´ll just learn what I need to know on my own and get used to hearning the Spanish lisp.
Also, some of you may have been wondering about the state of the mullet here in Espania. Well, I´m here to tell you, yes, the Spanish mullet is alive and well. But do not dispair! Most of them are actually done pretty stylishly. I even saw one on a model in a store window! They usually aren´t permed, but often times the hair is colored, either bleached blond, or died some strange shade of pink or blue. I think over here, the mullet has maintained some of its traditional connotations. I think they are largely associated with The Rebel achetype, as I have seen a number of them on people dressed in the Punk style, cut very short on the top, and reaching down to the shoulders in the back. This particular form of mullet is almost a cross between a mullet and a mohawk actually. Very interesting. Still, in contrast, more in keeping with the contemporary American mullet, I did see some woman sporting the classic 10/90 and wearing a t-shirt that said, ¨Donde est a mi Cervesa?¨ Now, okay, I don´t speak Spanish, but even I know what that means.
Besides that, I have of course been checking out lots of museums and stuff. Most of them have at least one day a week where admission is free, which is awesome. There is a lot of art here. There´s a lot of art everywhere in Europe it seems. It´s all pretty cool, but it all starts to look the same after a while! You can only stare at so many Rubens and Delacroixs until they start to blend together. I like the more contemporary stuff better, of which there is a fair bit in Madrid.
So that´s me, da dee da. I´m kind of bored right now, waiting for my class to start. I hope everything with that goes okay. I have got to start going out more and meeting people, or else I´m going to go crazy!
I hope to hear from you all soon, ciao
Jessie/Chloe
