Wednesday, December 10, 2003
On November 25, 2003, Chloe Bowen officially became an illegal alien, living and working in a sovereign nation without proper visas or certification. I feel like I should somehow feel different, like I should be able to tell, or like other people should be able to tell when looking at me. But the thing is that they can´t! And neither can I really. I´m still paranoid about leaving the country, but I really, really don´t think it´s going to be a problem. From everyone I´ve heard that´s done it, they really don´t care. And considering the level of organization or effectiveness I´ve seen demonstrated in this country, that doesn´t seem hard to believe...
Remember I told you about the plumbing issues we´ve been having in our apartment? Well, I emptied an entire bottle of liquid plumber down the drain in my shower in hopes that this would unclog it. I was a little reticent to do this at first because I was afraid that the draino could possibly eat through the pipe, thus causing an even larger problem than before, and a problem that could be directly traced to me. But the situation had become obnoxious enough to take the risk. And so far, so good. The draino actually succeeded in dislodging the giant ball of hair and shampoo and whatever else from years past stuck in the pipe, and now the water is draining fine. And as of now, I have not noticed anything that would make me suspect I damaged the pipe in my home-plumbing experiment...although who knows. The wall could be filling with water every time I use the shower for all I know.
But don´t worry, there is more apartment drama to report. We have a fuse box next to the front door of our flat. Last week I noticed a burning plastic smell coming from the front hall. I immediately dismissed it as somehow linked to my stinky roommate, but upon hearing that others had noticed it too, I realized this was not the case. It was coming from the fuse box. The fuse box was also hot to the touch and in all ways, very sketchy. So Simon told the landlady. A few days later she came down to the apartment with her electrician friend and checked out the box. I was the only one home when this happened. She asked me if anyone used a space heater in the apartment, like this would overheat it or something, and I said no, definitely not. She and the electrician discussed the situation for a few minutes, and then left without doing jack. They left the hot melting fuse box alone.
Then a few days ago, my new roommate, Mark (I will explain the new roommate later) was home along cooking in the kitchen when he suddenly hears a big POP! and the lights go black. He goes to the door and quickly notices that the FUSE BOX IS ON FIRE. Not a big fire, only a small flame inside, but still, IT´S ON FIRE. So he runs to our freaky neighbor´s flat (check that, he walks three feet to their front door) and says there´s a fire, and they tell him to go tell the doorman, so he does, and the doorman gives him the number of some electrician. So he calls the electrician and he comes.
Meanwhile, the landlady, Chelo, gets wind of this and comes down with her electrician friend and is all in a huff because Mark called a different electrician. She says, oh, but I like to use this electrician that lives with me because he´s such a good electrician. Um, what? Does she even believe herself when she says that? She likes to use the electrician she lives with because he´s FREE! No duh. Anyway, Mark talks back to her a little bit about how fucking ridiculous that is and anyway, the fuse box gets fixed. But I mean come ON, she came down with her electrician a few days before and didn´t do fucking shit about it! The fuse box is hot and melting! Can we say FIRE HAZARD? At least, if there were a fire, I only live on the second floor (that´s the third floor, by American measures) so I could potentially jump out of the window and survive. Because there sure as hell isn´t a fire escape. And no fire extinguishers either. this building is so not up to code. None of them are. Actually, check that -- there probably IS not code to not be up to. Ugh. Anyway. This whole situation was of course, kind of funny and amusing, but at the same time...
So the new roommate. Let me explain. I think I said before Pierre was subleasing his room to some gay Venezuelan dude so he could save some money by living with his girlfriend. He was supposed to move back in this month. But he has somehow found someone ELSE to sublease his roommate to. See now, this kind of bothers me a bit. I feel like I should get some say in what is happening in my apartment and whom I´m going to live with. I feel like I´m living in a hotel.
So I would be really annoyed about this situation, except that my new roommate ROCKS. He´s this American guy named Mark. He´s a graduate student at the University of Ohio studying Spanish linguistics, and he´s a total geek in the way that I adore! He loves grammar, and openly admits it. I mean, he has said to me multiple times, ¨I love grammar.¨ Who SAYS that? I don´t even say that. We´ve had hour long discussions on proper usage of the English subjunctive (so few even realize it exists!), toward vs. towards, the wonders of the semi-colon, and so much more! It´s beautiful! He also sees the weirdness in my other roommates, so I feel more justified in my feelings.
Mark´s girlfriend is Spanish, so he´s visiting her, and also preparing for his thesis which is dealing with the way that a certain Spanish dialect is viewed by other people in Spain, kind of like studying how the Texan accent is viewed by other Americans. Very sociological! So sad that he´s only here for a month! He´s making me remember how cool roommates CAN be, if you are actually friends with them. And then I look at my other roommates and I´m like, hrumph. Not that they´re that bad but..well, I´ve explained them before. Mark, his girlfriend, my friends, and I have been discussing Andy´s BO ad naseum (no pun intended). Everyone has their own special description. Some say it smells like rotten meat, some say manure, some say stinky cheese. I personally would call it more wet dog. Either way, it´s a cross between dirty clothes, stinky armpit, and smelly crotch. And it´s FOWL. I know I talk about this like every email, but if you had to smell him every day, you would too. It is so fucking gross. I´m hoping Mark actually says something to him before he leaves. He has nothing to lose after all, since he´ll be gone.
Anyway, on to other things. Had Thanksgiving here. I of course had to work on Thanksgiving day because it´s not a holiday here. That was kind of weird. Canterbury had a little Thanksgiving party in the evening and I went to that though. Free food, whatever. My familly called me and I talked to them for like an hour, which was cool. The Saturday after Thanksgiving was the real party though. Cara and Emily had people over to their house and we all got kind of tipsy and ate lots of food. Good times. My student Juan (the one who came to class that one time in a towel) came to the party too and that was cool. He had to leave early because he was playing a soccer game, and after he left all the girls at the party were like, ¨Who´s THAT? He´s kind of cute...¨ And of course, my immediate reaction was..REIR!!! Instantly my claws were out. I mean, this was all internal, I didn´t say or do anything rude on the outside, but internally, I was en guarde. But it was just kind of funny. Girls can be so catty. I´m not even a very catty girl, in the slightest, but even I, even I.
Speaking of Juan. I had my last class with him on Monday. Que triste!! But that´s life. I really want to be friends with him, but I´m just not sure how to go about this transition. How do we move smoothly from teacher/student to friend/friend?? I´m so reminded of Goffman, it´s not even funny. I just don´t know what steps to take to go about this. It was weird when I was leaving class. It was kind of like, uh..are we supposed to hug now or something? I don´t know. But it´s not like I won´t ever see him again. He has to come over sometime to give me the study books back, and I´m hoping perhaps this will be the opportunity to Bridge the Gap. I´m hoping. And the whole girlfriend thing is still in question. But I THINK he has one. Still, he´s just a cool dude and I´d like to be friends.
Gonzalo, mi otro alumno muy guapo, called me Little Flower yesterday. *hee* I really don´t know if he likes me though. I mean, he LIKES me, but ugh, things are just so WEIRD with the student/teacher thing. I mean, VERY delicate territory here. A very fine line. If I had to guess, I would guess he would be too afraid of me to date me. I think I´m a completely foreign species to him. I mean, girls are a foreign species to boys anyway, but I´m an AMERICAN girl. Even weirder. I think I´m actually the first American he´s known. And he certainly doesn´t know me very well either. And besides, I seriously doubt he would ever think that _I_ would like HIM, because he just seems like the type that would never think girls liked them, especially weird foreign girls.
I certainly spend a lot of time analyzing these stupid little crushes of mine. But then again, it´s something to do.
Remember I told you about the plumbing issues we´ve been having in our apartment? Well, I emptied an entire bottle of liquid plumber down the drain in my shower in hopes that this would unclog it. I was a little reticent to do this at first because I was afraid that the draino could possibly eat through the pipe, thus causing an even larger problem than before, and a problem that could be directly traced to me. But the situation had become obnoxious enough to take the risk. And so far, so good. The draino actually succeeded in dislodging the giant ball of hair and shampoo and whatever else from years past stuck in the pipe, and now the water is draining fine. And as of now, I have not noticed anything that would make me suspect I damaged the pipe in my home-plumbing experiment...although who knows. The wall could be filling with water every time I use the shower for all I know.
But don´t worry, there is more apartment drama to report. We have a fuse box next to the front door of our flat. Last week I noticed a burning plastic smell coming from the front hall. I immediately dismissed it as somehow linked to my stinky roommate, but upon hearing that others had noticed it too, I realized this was not the case. It was coming from the fuse box. The fuse box was also hot to the touch and in all ways, very sketchy. So Simon told the landlady. A few days later she came down to the apartment with her electrician friend and checked out the box. I was the only one home when this happened. She asked me if anyone used a space heater in the apartment, like this would overheat it or something, and I said no, definitely not. She and the electrician discussed the situation for a few minutes, and then left without doing jack. They left the hot melting fuse box alone.
Then a few days ago, my new roommate, Mark (I will explain the new roommate later) was home along cooking in the kitchen when he suddenly hears a big POP! and the lights go black. He goes to the door and quickly notices that the FUSE BOX IS ON FIRE. Not a big fire, only a small flame inside, but still, IT´S ON FIRE. So he runs to our freaky neighbor´s flat (check that, he walks three feet to their front door) and says there´s a fire, and they tell him to go tell the doorman, so he does, and the doorman gives him the number of some electrician. So he calls the electrician and he comes.
Meanwhile, the landlady, Chelo, gets wind of this and comes down with her electrician friend and is all in a huff because Mark called a different electrician. She says, oh, but I like to use this electrician that lives with me because he´s such a good electrician. Um, what? Does she even believe herself when she says that? She likes to use the electrician she lives with because he´s FREE! No duh. Anyway, Mark talks back to her a little bit about how fucking ridiculous that is and anyway, the fuse box gets fixed. But I mean come ON, she came down with her electrician a few days before and didn´t do fucking shit about it! The fuse box is hot and melting! Can we say FIRE HAZARD? At least, if there were a fire, I only live on the second floor (that´s the third floor, by American measures) so I could potentially jump out of the window and survive. Because there sure as hell isn´t a fire escape. And no fire extinguishers either. this building is so not up to code. None of them are. Actually, check that -- there probably IS not code to not be up to. Ugh. Anyway. This whole situation was of course, kind of funny and amusing, but at the same time...
So the new roommate. Let me explain. I think I said before Pierre was subleasing his room to some gay Venezuelan dude so he could save some money by living with his girlfriend. He was supposed to move back in this month. But he has somehow found someone ELSE to sublease his roommate to. See now, this kind of bothers me a bit. I feel like I should get some say in what is happening in my apartment and whom I´m going to live with. I feel like I´m living in a hotel.
So I would be really annoyed about this situation, except that my new roommate ROCKS. He´s this American guy named Mark. He´s a graduate student at the University of Ohio studying Spanish linguistics, and he´s a total geek in the way that I adore! He loves grammar, and openly admits it. I mean, he has said to me multiple times, ¨I love grammar.¨ Who SAYS that? I don´t even say that. We´ve had hour long discussions on proper usage of the English subjunctive (so few even realize it exists!), toward vs. towards, the wonders of the semi-colon, and so much more! It´s beautiful! He also sees the weirdness in my other roommates, so I feel more justified in my feelings.
Mark´s girlfriend is Spanish, so he´s visiting her, and also preparing for his thesis which is dealing with the way that a certain Spanish dialect is viewed by other people in Spain, kind of like studying how the Texan accent is viewed by other Americans. Very sociological! So sad that he´s only here for a month! He´s making me remember how cool roommates CAN be, if you are actually friends with them. And then I look at my other roommates and I´m like, hrumph. Not that they´re that bad but..well, I´ve explained them before. Mark, his girlfriend, my friends, and I have been discussing Andy´s BO ad naseum (no pun intended). Everyone has their own special description. Some say it smells like rotten meat, some say manure, some say stinky cheese. I personally would call it more wet dog. Either way, it´s a cross between dirty clothes, stinky armpit, and smelly crotch. And it´s FOWL. I know I talk about this like every email, but if you had to smell him every day, you would too. It is so fucking gross. I´m hoping Mark actually says something to him before he leaves. He has nothing to lose after all, since he´ll be gone.
Anyway, on to other things. Had Thanksgiving here. I of course had to work on Thanksgiving day because it´s not a holiday here. That was kind of weird. Canterbury had a little Thanksgiving party in the evening and I went to that though. Free food, whatever. My familly called me and I talked to them for like an hour, which was cool. The Saturday after Thanksgiving was the real party though. Cara and Emily had people over to their house and we all got kind of tipsy and ate lots of food. Good times. My student Juan (the one who came to class that one time in a towel) came to the party too and that was cool. He had to leave early because he was playing a soccer game, and after he left all the girls at the party were like, ¨Who´s THAT? He´s kind of cute...¨ And of course, my immediate reaction was..REIR!!! Instantly my claws were out. I mean, this was all internal, I didn´t say or do anything rude on the outside, but internally, I was en guarde. But it was just kind of funny. Girls can be so catty. I´m not even a very catty girl, in the slightest, but even I, even I.
Speaking of Juan. I had my last class with him on Monday. Que triste!! But that´s life. I really want to be friends with him, but I´m just not sure how to go about this transition. How do we move smoothly from teacher/student to friend/friend?? I´m so reminded of Goffman, it´s not even funny. I just don´t know what steps to take to go about this. It was weird when I was leaving class. It was kind of like, uh..are we supposed to hug now or something? I don´t know. But it´s not like I won´t ever see him again. He has to come over sometime to give me the study books back, and I´m hoping perhaps this will be the opportunity to Bridge the Gap. I´m hoping. And the whole girlfriend thing is still in question. But I THINK he has one. Still, he´s just a cool dude and I´d like to be friends.
Gonzalo, mi otro alumno muy guapo, called me Little Flower yesterday. *hee* I really don´t know if he likes me though. I mean, he LIKES me, but ugh, things are just so WEIRD with the student/teacher thing. I mean, VERY delicate territory here. A very fine line. If I had to guess, I would guess he would be too afraid of me to date me. I think I´m a completely foreign species to him. I mean, girls are a foreign species to boys anyway, but I´m an AMERICAN girl. Even weirder. I think I´m actually the first American he´s known. And he certainly doesn´t know me very well either. And besides, I seriously doubt he would ever think that _I_ would like HIM, because he just seems like the type that would never think girls liked them, especially weird foreign girls.
I certainly spend a lot of time analyzing these stupid little crushes of mine. But then again, it´s something to do.
I too got some booty recently, with the stupid American dude I was messing around with. He is stupid and lame though, so I don´t think I´ll be seeing him anymore. I mean, I can handle the friends with benefits situation, but if you really don´t like the person, the sex just gets boring real fast, you know? Besides, he tells me AFTER we messed around that he has a GIRLFRIEND back in the US. Sheah. He is sooo kidding himself. He hooked up with me after he´d been in Spain for only like, two weeks, and he says he has a girlfriend back in the US? Some girlfriend! He obviously can´t be taking THAT too seriously. But anyway, of course we messed around after he told me this anyway. Heh. But it was just weird and oh I don´t know, it´s just not a good idea. And anyway he´s just a big dork. Cute though, cute...
I know what you mean about the manic depressive thing. I mean, not that I´m manic depressive, but I know what you mean about everyone only seeing your manic side and not realizing that you have another side too. There are so few people that we show our entire selves to. I guess it has to be that way though...I mean you can´t trust everyone with your innermost secrets, first of all, and second of all, most people wouldn´t give a shit about hearing about them anyway. That´s why you have some friends who you are closer to than others I suppose.
I know what you mean about the manic depressive thing. I mean, not that I´m manic depressive, but I know what you mean about everyone only seeing your manic side and not realizing that you have another side too. There are so few people that we show our entire selves to. I guess it has to be that way though...I mean you can´t trust everyone with your innermost secrets, first of all, and second of all, most people wouldn´t give a shit about hearing about them anyway. That´s why you have some friends who you are closer to than others I suppose.
