Cumpleaños and Christmas

I'm 21 now.
I've always kind of hated my birthday; it makes me feel as if I've been wasting time, because I haven't done anything great yet, but in Spain it hardly felt like my birthday so we celebrated like this:

A fresh clean house, a long nap, Skype with the parents, dinner courtesy of Michelle's mom, delicious, the cheapest beer, champagne, dessert cakes, cookies and whipped cream, a funny little dog, good tunes, Sydney's beautiful voice, Lauren's house for wine, Green Porno, laughs and Adderall, Planta Baja for awesome oldies and dancing like a crazy person to Grease songs and the Beach Boys, meeting up with Javi & Co, beers, vodka, Vogue, which actually had good music, too, back-handing some asshole that tried grab my ass, dancing, dancing, dancing, a surprising sunrise and endless energy, two attempts at after-parties that were creepy and small, Lauren's house for weed and more laughs, walking down the street with Michelle and laughing uncontrollably for what seemed like hours, back to Sydney's to follow her around and giggle like idiots while she got ready to leave for Christmas, a feeling like how the fuck is it Christmas, a long walk home, total collapse.

So, you know, now it's Christmas and I'm in a cuddle puddle with the kitties and the blanket my dad and Karen sent me, and it doesn't feel real, or important, so I'm gonna kill time and watch movies until tomorrow, which is much more important, because Casey will be here. HOLYFUCK, is this real life?

"JFK airport is such a shithole. I can see how you didn't make your flight."

Holiday Hibernation

It's been a while since I've written an "update" post and I guess that's for pretty predictable reasons, mainly that I'm just sort of getting into the swing of things and living a normalish life. Also, a reason would be the fact that Casey is coming in four days, and that fact has made it pretty impossible to think of much more. But, life is good, I'm loving my new house, especially my cozy bed now that it's equipped with flannel sheets, a feather comforter and a regular comforter that is my favorite color, and generally with a cat or two, or even a dog. We had our housewarming party a while ago, which was a total success minus one dog bite and some puke in the bidet. Yesterday I even finally took down Borja's posters and put up my own stuff, which makes it feel a lot more like home.

Also yesterday, I unexpectedly received TWO packages at the same time! One from my mom and Todd and one from Karen and my dad. So far I've opened several treasures, like a nice cozy blanket, some sweet little glass hearts, tasty Twin Palms dried tomatoes and peach jam from my dad and Karen, and the stocking I use every year, full of goodies, and a big yummy candle and some chocolate from my mom. I'm trying to open them slowly so I at least have one or two things to open on my actual birthday and on Christmas. It made me so happy, and also sad, because I miss them, and I've never missed Christmas before.

After getting my package Karim came and picked me up on his motorcycle and we went to get sushi/Chinese food with Leti and her friends. I've never actually been to one of those moving belt sushi places! Unfortunately, I didn't actually get to eat sushi since they didn't send any veggie rolls by, but I had some rice, noodles and SESAME BALLS. Very exciting. Afterwards we went to Booga for karaoke, which was pretty funny, although, I'd never heard ANY of the songs, of course. I had a good night, but I was really annoyed with myself for being super awkward. I just can't help being really lame around new people, especially when they all know each other and I'm still figuring out the language. Everyone was really nice, though, so I'm glad I went at least.

Anyway, my winter break has officially begun, so Gypsy and I are spending lot's of quality napping time together (although this morning I woke up with Gato and the dog and not him, oops.) A lot of quality time with the bed, in general, 'cause it's cooold! Writing in bed, reading in bed, watching Shameless in bed... It's hibernation season!

December

December is cold, cold bones, hope and waiting, that impatient movement in my knees, closing my eyes and standing up on big old bricks, arms spread, fantasies like you on your back, balanced up there under a blanket. December is a deep sigh, mottled gray skies, holiday promises, layers of cloth. December is one more inch up, one more year turned gray and expired, warm things and spices, a month long desire, a smoking candle wick, the moment before the lights come back on. December is a worn out favorite sweater, a white and silver time, thin as paper, hands pressed together, a far-off fireplace in the redwoods. December is the tense ache from holding yourself together, rushing or not moving at all, forest green and mahogany red, extra layers, steam, in cups and out of mouths, in the damp bathroom. December is sleeping long hours, kitten kisses on my chin, blank walls, stagnation, cuddle up indoor days, words spilling out everywhere, wishes. December is one frozen snowflake on the windshield, your long legs stepping into white, your steely eyes fluttering.

Moving and Merriment

I'm finally very, very pleased to announce that I have moved! Friday Karim saved my life by driving over to my old apartment and helping me load all my stuff up and then unload it into the new house. When we carried all my things in, he paused and read one of the many walls that are covered with multicolored cut out letters and told me, "This is a hippy house," with a playful teasing voice. I just laughed, because only a week or so ago he also told me he is slowly realizing I am quite the hippy myself. (This was in conjunction with a conversation about why we Americans insist on using our nerdy reusable water bottles.)

Anyway, the first day I got all unpacked and rearranged the furniture and Gypsy hid in the closet and sniffed around the corners of the room. That night I discovered that despite wearing a thick pair of leggings, a pair of sweat pants, a T-shirt, a sweater and a sweatshirt, I still kept waking up shivering under my flannel sheets and comforter. So Saturday Sravani and I went to Carrefour Planet, this huge Walmart type place that made me feel weird and claustrophobic-- it's been ages since I've been in such a huge supermarket!-- and I bought another comforter (with feathers!) and a little heater. I'm still wearing a billion layers to bed, but it's much better now. Check out my new room! It's much bigger.

My house consists of two Spanish guys and a woman from Hong Kong, an orange cat named Gato and a little corgi-type dog whose name I can't quite figure out, but whom I've decided to call Cristo. His real name sounds a lot like that. There's also a stripey cat that comes over to hang out with Gato a lot. I think s/he needs a name, so let me know if you have any ideas.

Gato and neighbor cat having a wild rumpus.

So far Gypsy has gotten pretty used to our room, but is not so sure about his new animal companions. Him and Gato have been hissing at each other and making weird cat growls, but mostly have just stared each other down a lot. Gypsy also hissed at Cristo at first but as we speak, the pup is sleeping in our room and Gypsy has fallen asleep trying to look vigilant.

On Saturday, my housemate David had his girlfriend's sister and her family over to have dinner and watch the futbol game (Barca vs. Madrid). They had these two absolutely adorable little girls, and I ended up hanging out with them for a while. Everyone was so nice and the seven year old girl was really eager to show off her English to me (knees! eyes! may I please go to the bathroom!). They were also absolutely obsessed with the animals. I kept Gypsy up in my room to avoid child-trauma but I let them come say hi to him briefly. They even fed my face which was super nice and super delicious. Later I crept into the kitchen and tried to quietly wash dishes but David still came and yelled at me. Things have changed, things have definitely changed.

Miriam and Gato. BFFL.

Yesterday, Sydney and Michelle came over and we had our first dinner in the new house! This proved a little tricky because although my kitchen is awesome and spacious, it is lacking in the actual dish arena. Like... we literally don't have bowls. Or mugs. But dinner turned out great and we shared with Borja, my housemate, and all hung out and bonded and it was jolly.

 A reenactment of the knife-wielding hug that Syd and I shared when I discovered that she's going to be around for the holidays (and therefore for my birthday!)

 

We had rice with eggplant, red and green pepper, green beans, zucchini, onions and garlic slathered with sriracha and chilli sauce, with a side of roasted garlic potatoes. We kinda also almost killed Borja with spiciness (Spaniards don't really do spicy) but he powered through thanks to wine, water and crackers.

This morning I ate rice and veggie leftovers with fried eggs and it turned out to be absolutely gorgeous so I went up to the terrace to eat.

Check out this gorgeous view!

And I made tea....

Yeah. We have a serious mug/glass/cup of any sort shortage. Hopefully today I will find the time to buy some real cups but other than that I'm stooooked! I'll try and put up a photo of my basement sometime soon, it's literally the ultimate chill spot: little wooden bar area, bar stools and a tall table, cushy chair and couch. Can't wait to get my fiesta on here!!

Portugal: Porto

Our first night in Porto we were rather sleepy and it was a Sunday, so there wasn't much incentive to be active. We were mostly just hungry, and this Malaysian girl had given us some ramen packets that didn't fit in her bag so we decided to be desperate and cheap and ghetto and make what was left of our spaghetti noodles and kinda mix them into the ramen, but this proved to be easier said then done because EVERYONE was having kitchen disasters/cooking at the same time and causing a ruckus and making it impossible to get burner space or pots. Someone attempted to cook meat by putting it in the oven straight on the rack, someone tried deep frying chicken, almost caused an oil fire, burnt the crap out of the chicken and then ran out of oil and someone else broke a plate. It was a fiasco. But we did it. And it was, well, pretty alright. Then we spent a good long time having shadow puppet shows on the walls and creating a ridiculous story about an overweight seeing-eye dog.

 "We laughed, we cried, we cringed."

Cape Dude vs. Claw Man

The next day we met two sisters that were triplets and also turned out to be basically the nicest humans alive. But I'll get to that. They'd been robbed in Lisbon and one of them, Jill, had her entire bag stolen but was still cheery and energetic. We decided to do our sight seeing with them and wandered around beautiful Porto together. We looked at some...old buildings (you should know by now I fail at remembering the "important" historic stuff) and walked through a market that was supposed to be fairly well known but was coming to a close. I bought something that I thought was a chocolate pastry and it turned out to be more egg-cream, dusted with cinnamon. But it was tasty and the guy was funny and popped into my photo very eagerly.

We walked through a historic old part of town by the river where the buildings were (extra) crumbling and picturesque and rustic and everything good and European and photogenic. But my favorite part about the city was the actual river with it's cute little boats and the view of all the sweet little buildings stacked up from across the river, in Gaia.

Gaia is where all the Port houses are, so we went across and found a free wine tasting tour, which turned out to be way more interesting than I anticipated. Plus we got a free taste afterwards and it was really nice. Courtney really wanted to buy a little wine bottle gift set to bring back but we'd flown into Porto with RyanAir and they're really intense about the size of your carry on (even your purse has to fit in your bag!) But (and this is where the girls' extreme niceness comes in!) since Jill had been robbed she offered to take some of Leah and Courtney's stuff so they wouldn't get stuck paying extra for a check on! (Leah had bought two pairs of boots and Court bought a bunch of stuff at the flea market.) They were flying out the next morning suuuper early (the same flight as us but a day earlier) and they were staying in Madrid, but she offered to meet up with us after our flight on Wednesday and bring their stuff. We were flabbergasted by the offer! Needless to say, Courtney got her souvenirs.

After wine we all went back to the first restaurant where we had tried our first francesinhas on day one and all indulged in the saucy treat. Mmm. I miss those already... Mmm.

Fun fact: the original title for the Portugal blog was going to be Putting on the Pounds in Portugal, but since I broke it up so much, I decided to be more practical and boring about it.

That night, after our free shots (yeah, the hostel gives out a free shot at 11 every night!) we asked the guy at our hostel for going-out advice and he directed us to this area where the bars were having a 2-for-1 night of almost all of their ENORMOUS drinks. We ended up finding this huge flock of like 18-year-old Portuguese medicine students that were REALLY wasted and REALLY enthused about us and about their weird misconceptions about the United States. At one point one of them told me, "I'm going to be a doctor! I will cut open your heart and change it for the heart of a black woman! I'm not racist." And another kept making sexual propositions and commented, "I'm a virgin, you could do me a favor!"

We ended staying out pretty fucking late and missing breakfast the next day, but we had to check out by noon, which was a little rough. Luckily Yes! Porto (the hostel) is awesome and let us leave all our crap in their closet and make sandwiches and stuff. We decided to wander about some more, and we'd seen these air tram gondola type things the day before and thought maybe it'd be cool to go on one. We found what we thought was the entrance for it and were shocked that tickets were only a little over one euro, so we waited in excited anticipation and then boarded. The glass compartment began to lift, up, up and we could see the river, and the bridge, and then, suddenly... we entered a tunnel...and came to a stop. We laughed so hard I cried; apparently we'd gotten onto some strange form of public transportation. It was basically a glorified elevator; a way of getting from one part of the city on the bottom of the hill to a higher up part... We are geniuses.

What we thought we were riding...

After that hilarious fiasco we just gave up and decided to go to wine tasting again at a different place: Taylor's. This time they gave us tastes before the tour, and gave us two types to try, a tawny and a ruby, and also had some really nice olive oil for us to to taste! This time we also took the tour in English and the woman seemed really stoked off everything. I definitely learned a lot! For example, I didn't know that in order to make ruby into tawny port you had to store it in smaller barrels, to maximize contact with the wood, but that new wood reacts with the strong alcohol content to create really strong vanilla flavors (which is often how vanilla extract is actually made!) and so they have to use barrels that have already been used to make regular wine before. Hella yeah, free knowledge AND free booze. Taylor's: 2 UC System: 0. Ouch.

Their ceiling also happened to be one of the coolest things ever.

After having another taste of wine and perusing the giftshop items, we did some souvenir and postcard shopping and some more meadnering and then Courtney met up with one of our new Portuguese pals and Leah and I got some food and went to relax at the hostel. After sleeping around five hours, we were pretty beat. The hostel, as I mentioned, was super fucking chill, so they said we could hang out until the wee hours when we had to catch our flight. I ended up falling asleep on the couch for a pretty hearty nap, and eventually Courtney came back with some of the Portuguese kids and one of them played a little guitar and we ended up talking to a ton of different batches of people. As it got later, people dropped off one by one and Court fell asleep and Leah attempted to, so I ended up chatting for a good while with the night shift front desk guy, who was actually super interesting and nice. He was a film student and told me about how one of his teachers wanted all the students to get naked together as a part of the creative process, the idea being that directing a film requires baring your whole self and being okay with your whole self, as you are, so physical nudity is a kind of metaphor/jump-start for the process.

At three thirty in the morning, we gobbled down some noodles and packed the last our stuff to a soundtrack of Russian dubstep. Russians, apparently, are insane... There was a group of them, largely wearing SHORTS in the freezing December weather, pounding down shots at three am and goading the hostel worker dude to drink with them while blasting weird tunes, talking about how they'd swam in the ocean earlier in the days and cheering because their futbol team had beat a Portuguese one.

At four am we caught a night bus to the airport and headed back for Spain. We took the metro to the bus station and Jill showed up bright and early with Courtney and Leah's stuff and she had even stopped at the store and bought us fresh bread, some crunchy cheese puff type things and some apple juice. How did that even happen? We couldn't believe our luck. She said after getting robbed she guessed she needed some karma points but, damn, we're impressed.

In closing:

Look how cute this patient pup is, waiting for her human to finish buying groceries.

Portugal: Lisbon

It's pretty intimidating to come back to the blog after an entire week, especially such a crazy week. Let me just say: I love Portugal. It's beautiful. I think I'll break this up into two blogs (or I guess three if you count the last one), one for Lisbon and one for Porto, as much for my own good as for your attention spans.

To begin with, the first stretch of travel was a nightmare. Five hour bus ride to Madrid, metro ride to the airport, flight to Porto, three and a half hour bus to Lisbon. We were zombie creatures by the end, so we mostly wrote and napped and chatted by the time we made it to our hostel.

Day two in Lisbon, we woke up to freshly baked croissants and tea, part of the free hostel breakfast and we decided to explore Belem, a well known area. We visited the Jeronimos Monastery, stopped in at a little nautical museum and took ridiculous photos, stopped by the Discoveries Monument, which naturally, we had to climb, and then took a look at the Belem Tower.

 Monastery!

 Monument climbing!

 Monument. You can see Lisbon's version of the Golden Gate in the background...That was extremely weird to see.

Tower of Belem.



Ordinary buildings.

The whole day was kind of leisurely and exploratory. We kept stumbling upon all the monuments we were hoping to see, taking our time, being goofy and having a blast. Everything was so beautiful, from the monuments to the ordinary buildings and there was street art everywhere. After looking around at these we were starving so we stopped and got felafel, and then headed back towards the hostel. On the way we stopped at a free museum we'd heard about in the hostel; the museum of fashion and design which we loved. It was arranged chronologically, and related historical events, inventions, people, etc, to the evolution of design. There were no photos allowed, but we saw all sorts of fascinating clothing and furniture and whatnot. My favorite part was all the quotes they had from designers, talking about their philosophy of design and fashion, form and function, pushing boundaries, etc. Afterwards, of course, we did a little shopping. I got myself a jacket, which turned out to be extremely necessary and very useful due to it's extra large hood, which could roll down and become my public-transport-sleeping-cave.

Street art.

After noticing the Golden Gate 2.0, I kept feeling like Lisbon was an old, decaying San Francisco. It just had that feeling, especially with all the little trolleys.

That night we made gin and tonics in the hostel and then went out with some Americans and our new Canadian friend, Rebecca, this awesome spunky 18-year-old who was traveling around for like seven months alone, meeting up with friends in different places. We went to Bairro Alto, the area known for it's bars and nightlife and had a few drinks. The night seemed to be coming to an end but we ran into an extremely inebriated Australian that was obsessed with his own beard, and we ended up causing a ruckus with him and his friends. He was ridiculous and had "Your Name" tattooed on his ass (yes, he showed us) but came in handy when some random guy came up to Leah and I, put his arms around us and proclaimed, "You're coming home with me tonight." All in all a hilarious evening.

Inebriated Australian, self, Rebecca.

The next day we got a late start (well, Leah and I did; Courtney managed to get up early and go to a sweet flea market that I'm sad I didn't make it to.) We decided to take a day trip to Sintra, a nearby town known for it's fairytale-like castles and palaces. We'd been told that you only really have time to visit one of the amazing sights, and we chose Palacio da Pena which was incredible. The palace was up a big forested hill, which we bussed and then walked up. It was one of the few tourist spots that we actually decided to pay and enter, so we got to marvel at all the insane themed rooms and spent a lot of time talking about how short their beds were. Luxurious, but short. It was also evening time and up on the hill, especially outside, it was REALLY fucking cold. I kind of thought my ears were going to fall off. But it was definitely worth the money, and really did feel like a crazy surreal fairytale palace. The view from up there was breathtaking.

That night, Leah, Rebecca and I were rather sleepy, so we opted out of going out and went for hot chocolate and pastries, or in my case, a baked apple with cinnamon. Honestly, a lot of this trip was defined by the food. Aside from the saucewiches (francesinhas) we had in Porto, we made some awesome meals in the hostel to save money: pasta with fresh veggies, vegetable and tofu stirfry with garlic, ginger and soy sauce, and grilled cheese with tomatoes and a fried egg and onion soup. Also, Portugal turned out to be FULL of tasty pastries that we just couldn't resist. The Portuguese are extreme fond of egg-cream, and are famous for their pasteis de nata, these little custard tarts that are served with cinnamon. Delicious.

Sunday we had a bus back to Porto at 5, so we had time to do a little more sightseeing. Rebecca came along with us to find a mirador (basically a plaza with a dope view). We opted to follow the tram tracks and take our time meandering through the beautiful old buildings instead of riding the tram. It was a wonderful tranquil day, wandering through the Alfama neighborhood, which is known for it's crumbling melancholy beauty, and the whole thing was enhanced by the moody clouds. The view did not disappoint, we sat for a long while and just took in the city.

To be continued...

Portugal: The Beginning

1am travels—I quickly become a bag of heavy bones, carry myself around along with my pudgy backpack. Humming bus windowpanes echo through my inner ear, through my jaw. In the airport we unwrap little sandwiches, panic about the size of our bags. I’m on my knees shoving my purse upside down into my backpack, putting on extra sweaters, scarves.

In the airplane, I fall asleep, wake up being told to move my feet from the seats, our ears fill up and we fly through the thin border of time. Outside we breathe cold air, try and ascertain if it tastes, well, Portuguese. We eat strips of sour candy, walk down into the metro, count the stops as they flash by.

Above ground, Porto is sleepy and old, chilly and gray with big tiled churches, crumbling old mansions, serious against the purplish sky. A sweet brown trolley rolls by on tracks, someone hands me a paper, asks me for money, I suppress the urge to respond in Spanish, my tongue is confused. We pass groggy Portuguese pigeons, buy bus tickets in a dingy office with wooden walls. We find a café with English in the menu—is that good or bad? Leah asks. We buy Portuguese sandwiches, a Porto specialty, francesinhas, sandwiches with sauce they say is extra spicy, like the Mexican food, they say. The sauce is red and mild, we split French fries and Leah closes her eyes at the table. The waitress has a sweet disposition and bad teeth, makes Leah pick out free desserts. We share flan and mousse and tip her.

The bus to Lisbon is more spacious and we sit along the left side—window seats. I pull off my scarf and top layer sweater to wad up as a pillow. The sun flickers across my face and a cold sets in; I curl into a ball. In the station bathroom, I rinse my mouth and then we head underground again, slow as specters, drooping.

Lisbon is purple-gray, the air is still. We find number 65, a souvenir shop. Inside is a big, mirrored double door, Kitsch Hostel, it says. The doors open to a dingy staircase. Up, up, inside another door, beside a dentist office, is a strange collaged lobby, red walls, green diamond walls, celebrities, religious figures and naked women pasted all together. Our receptionist is Polish, I think you will like this, he says again and again. His smile is shy and when we walk in on a girl changing in our room he turns pink. Beds. We collapse. It’s 5:30pm.

Pet Passport, Package and Planning for Portugal!

Are you excited? I'm excited. Why am I excited? I'm going to Portugal, mofuggah, that's why!

Updates: Sunday dinner was tasty and successfully not that expensive. People were nice and things, yay!

Monday I went by the vet's office and got some info on what needs to happen to take my Gypsy King home. It's gonna be pricey, but today I went and got things started. First, the vet cleaned his ears and showed me the mites in them through a microscope. EW. Then she gave him a few vaccines and clipped his nails and gave me his pet passport! Hilarity!

I actually carried him to the vet since I haven't bought a carrier yet, which was a little ridiculous but he handled it well. The vet told me to get a carrier, but... I'm being a cheapskate. I don't wanna buy a carrier until I know what specifications the airline has for me! She said I could just get a cheap one and then get the airline one but ten euros is still ten euros...Urgh. She was also a little baffled by his name.

In other news that is great, I got a lovely, lovely, wonderful, amazing package in the mail today from the combined efforts of my mama and my lover! The contents:

Sriracha hot sauce, tasty little mini hot sauces, green tea and Duchess gray tea, 90% cocoa dark chocolate, hot cocoa mixes and an assortment of tights and leggings along with an adorable little worry doll and a lucky bean! THEY ARE THE CUTEST!

Speaking of cute, I have to leave my Gypsy King in the hands of my housemates for a week whilst in Portugal, and I was nervous about how thorough their care taking would be so I made a chart to make sure he gets water, food, and a freshly cleaned poop box everyday. Behold:

Agua/comida/caca.

I even added an extra day in case of some weird unexpected delay. Ugh, I hate to leave him. I wish he could be a traveling kitty! I mean, he has a passport, after all...

Well, tomorrow is my last day to wrap up some homework stuff, pack, and (knock on wood) go sign my new lease(!!) before heading off to Porto and Lisbon! Wish me luck!

Vestiges of Dreaming

You compressed yourself and stuck your hand down the back of my pants and I called in a fake emergency call from a stolen cell phone, not really certain why. In class I looked at the grain of my wooden desk and all around my the students groaned, like falling trees, the teachers face was set hard as stone, she left us without a backward glance. There was a dog; I felt responsible when the skin opened up on his haunches, but he didn’t complain. I tried to hold his body together, I could see the underside of his bare flesh, and there was a yellow smell. I carried him in a plastic bag.

Spainsgiving 2.0 and Subpar Saturday

It appears that lately I've spent my Sundays raving about how cool my life is, and let's face it, my life is awesome. Sometimes, though, it's not. I was thinking to myself that it was probably pretty unnecessary to write a post about how incredibly subpar yesterday was, but at the same time, it's all part of the experience, right?

Friday was Spainsgiving 2.0, our program had a "free" dinner for us. I say "free" because obviously we all paid like thousands of dollars to be a part of this program, so...free is not quite correct. Pre-paid, perhaps? For this reason I was determined to get my money's worth, especially of the open bar, so by the end of the night I was double-fisting wine glasses. There was just too  much classiness to be handled by one hand alone, okay?! Dinner was dope though, they even gave us veg kids an option, so even though our salad sucked ass and had fish in it, our main course was yummy roasted veggies with garlic, and desert was pretty yummy even though it was supposed to be pumpkin pie and it was really like...citrus-raisin pie. I guess they thought that after the wine we wouldn't notice. INCORRECT. It was tasty though. After dinner we powered up with a little more wine and went to Vogue, a club I'd never been to before. The first like three to five songs we're GREAT. Old school wonderfulness. Then the club got obnoxiously packed and the music got really bad really fast. Also, I spent a portion of the night fairly upset, thinking that someone had stolen the 20 euro bill I brought with me as emergency money, not remembering that I had stuffed it into my bra before entering the club to avoid that very danger. So I'm an idiot, but an idiot who plans ahead, at least. Or something.

So that night was actually pretty fun, especially because I went out with a group I haven't really hung out with as much, and they are all a lot of fun. But for some reason, I woke up Saturday morning feeling gloomy as fuck. Inexplicably gloomy; I was supposed to go sign the lease for my new place, which should be exciting, but I just felt like a big puddle of ick. It didn't help that some guy was supposed to come look at my current room and got super mixed up and never came. Actually, I'm fairly certain that he was looking for an apartment in Madrid and just got extremely fucking confused. So I spent a really obscene portion of my day sitting on my ass and waiting, and on occasion hiding Gypsy in Lucas' room and then realizing it was just his friend at the door, not the guy. For some reason, I just kept getting more and more anxious and uncomfortable and antsy and grumpy and sad. I don't know why, just sometimes bad feelings feed off each other and grow in your guts, and for whatever reason, I'm highly susceptible to weird anxiety.

I'm proud of myself, though, because I was able to recognize that cycle, so I laid face down on my bed for a bit and concentrated on breathing, and Gypsy came and laid on my head so I felt much better. I still had two hours before I had to be at the new house but I figured I should get up and moving or I'd fall asleep, so I went and got some cash and then stopped at a thrift store on my way and got a couple cheap sweaters, which was nice. I also heard these girls speaking English and discovered that they are also CA kids studying here. Funny enough, one of them was actually from Watsonville (which is right by Santa Cruz.) Unfortunately, as I was shopping, my new housemates texted me to cancel because they apparently need more info or something before writing the contract up. Frustration!

I was really sleepy all day and didn't really want to go out, but Leticia, this really awesome Spanish girl, invited me to go see a show with her, and I agreed because I've been wanting to hang out; she's female and Spanish and badass, which is pretty much the trifecta of characteristics that are exactly what I need in my life right now. However the details weren't really clear so she told me to keep my Facebook open and she'd keep me updated. At like ten something she told me her friends were coming to get her at like midnight or one, so I tried to take a nap, but Lucas had friends over and one of them for some reason was Skyping with his friend and the combination of our bad Internet connection, the TV being on, and noise four other dudes playing poker was causing him to literally SCREAM at these girls, so I gave up after forty-five minutes and decided to come hang out in the living room and make the boys pregame with me. These kids are not used to taking shots, let me just say. We drank the same amount (although they actually put this like blackberry flavoring crap in theirs) and they ended up having a pushup contest. Who does that? Leticia kept updating me on the show but things kept getting pushed back later and later so when she finally called me at 3:30am I was over it and decided to go to bed. Not her fault at all, but after being sleepy all day, 3:30am seemed like quite the late starting point for my night. So basically I spent my entire Saturday waiting for shit that never happened. COOL.

Anyway, I'm doing the whole "being a giant lazy blob" thing today, and Gypsy already knocked a glass off my desk and broke it, which did not start things off wonderfully, but I'm supposed to go out to a sushi dinner with Karim and some of his friends and Christina. I'm a little nervous about it monetarily speaking, especially since he told us he reserved a table and that there was a menu thing that would be 25 euros a person! That's like slightly over $33 dollars! But luckily Christina and I talked to him and told him we are way too poor for that to be an option, so I'm planning on not being that hungry and just getting something really minimal... It's also a beautiful day and I kinda wanna go be in the sun, but at the same time I should also get some homework done before our Portugal trip.

Oh, and I haven't gotten to speak to Casey so I'm not sure what his Friday gift thing was yet.

Highlights from a Thanksgiving in Spain

Explaining a turducken, that look of simultaneous amazed confusion and understanding; ah, this is why Americans are so fat.

The question, "What do American people do in Thanksgiving? What do they eat? Same than films?"

Deciding to make apple crisp, opening a brand new flour package and discovering bugs living in it.

Running extremely late, feeling like a jerk, arriving to find everyone is a panicked whirlwind in the kitchen and running even later.

Dinner that was scheduled for 9pm occurring at 11pm.

Tortilla de patatas as a Thanksgiving dish.

Spanish people trying a sweet potato dish for the first time.

Spanish people failing to properly grasp the concept of Thanksgiving gluttony; consequently eating more than all the boys.

Explaining appropriate and inappropriate uses of the word "swallow."

Being asked if American people always invite a homeless person over for Thanksgiving, also due to movies.

Hilarious impressions of American "bros" or "gangsters." Imagine: "What's up, bro! Oh fuck yeah, my man!" etc with a (impressively diminished) Spanish accent.

Spanish kids attempting to steal Leah's red solo cups because they are the cups from American Pie, the ultimate party cup. Spanish kids examining and admiring said solo cups.

Hilarious impressions of French accents in order to achieve "sexiness."

Laughing so hard I wanted to die.

Things wrapping up at 3:30am; getting shit from Spaniards for not going to the discoteca afterwards.

Thanksgiving

I am thankful for a season that has crimson red and crisp clean air, yellow leaves and brown and blue yarn. I am thankful for a place that is a little labyrinth, a place like home, but older, but newer. I am thankful for thrift shop sweaters, for incense, plane tickets and technology, for chocolate, for rosemary and for Polaroid photographs. I am thankful for two long legs, for lungs and something similar to freedom, at least. I am thankful for the stirring, shuddering, all across the world, and the people who have thrown themselves headlong into hopefulness, and been hurt for it, too. I am thankful for boots, for five-subject notebooks, for salt. I am thankful for Gypsy King, my MishkaMoo, Daisy Dooper Dog, serious Buster with his mustache, and Badger with his blue eyes, too. I am thankful for markers, cereal boxes, scissors. I am thankful for open-late Chinos, full of beer and bobby pins, chili sauce and glue sticks, full of junk and everything else. I am thankful for my tongue, for words and words and words, even if they never seem like enough. I’m thankful for a boy who is patient, that dog whispering boy, for breakfast in bed and shower sex. I am thankful for blankets, for poetry, for literacy, for tomatoes, music, what little patience I have, for the redwoods. I am thankful for the ocean, for dreaming, for dish soap, body lotion, for driers, when I had them. I am thankful for a best-friend mother, that unbreakable bond made of different kinds of love, for four parents, really, strange and different and wonderful people, artists and adventurers, I am thankful for their logic and their passion, for their quirks and their lessons, for their homes and their heads. I am thankful for twenty years and almost one more, for waking up, for phone calls, I am thankful for a voice, for my copper ship necklace, for comfortable silences, raspberries, collarbones, chapstick, and cider. I am thankful for windows, for eggs, for leggings. I am thankful for a grandmother who read me Nancy Drew and taught me how to knit, I am thankful for my family, for a spider-web of support, for love that comes steady even miles away, even though I am as strange as a deep sea creature, and almost as pale, too. I am thankful for a brother with big deer eyes, a brother with a mind as raging and curious as the sea, who can draw airplanes and tanks, volcanoes and castles, a wild drumming fiend. I am thankful for wings, for films that make my heart ache, for friendship, mail, my faraway car, reusable grocery bags, freshly made bread, graffiti, strangers, sales, coincidences, surprises. I am thankful for open eyes.

Moving, Mexican Food and Movies

Dear everyone, I'm moving! I found a house in the upper Albaycín with a big kitchen, an awesome basement, a huge terrace with a beautiful view of the entire city, with a cat and a dog and housemates that seem super chill. I didn't wanna write about it until I knew for sure what was going on but it looks like next week I'll be signing my new contract and I've already spoken to my current landlord so it looks like things are working out! Gypsy King and I will have an adorable new house and he'll be able to go outside again and things!

My soon-to-be neighborhood!

In other news, here is a list of weekend wonders:

Thursday night: Mexican sleepover! Leah made Spanish rice and grilled veggies, Hannah made salsa, Mauna made guacamole, Courtney brought tortillas and cheese and I brought chipotle refried beans and we smoked a few spliffs and ate until we were dying and watched American Psycho.

Friday morning we woke up late but went to Monachil and hiked and ate sandwiches, then I came home, did some knitting and was generally lazy and cozy. I talked to Casey and he got:

There's not really a reason behind this... Mostly, it was just the correct size and we have sweet teeth.

Saturday morning I did more knitting and lazing and then met up with Christina, who lives in the lower Albaycín and we decided to take a walk and see if I could find my new neighborhood by foot (since I'd only bussed there before.) We ended up getting turned around but it was all kinds of adventurous fun. We ended up hiking up this big hill where tons of ghetto cave houses and lean-to type homes were set up, and we eventually came to this old city wall and realized we were on the wrong side of it and decided to climb it, since it was crumbling in such a way that created all kinds of foot and hand holds. Sitting on top of the wall was so exhilarating and it had an amazing view. We found my neighborhood, too!

Saturday night I met up with Courtney and we went and hung out with Christina at Laurel's and then went to Felipe's and watched a Spanish movie called Noviembre, which was a bit difficult to understand but really interesting.

Today is the epitome of a lazy Sunday. I was going to go see the theater again, but Valentina isn't in tonight's show, so the cold won and I stayed home and drank tea, instead. This weather may mean significantly less interesting things to talk about, because I really can't be bothered to leave the house when I'm cold...

Monachil

We woke up late, of course. The blinds shut tightly, the room was dark as a warm tomb, I stretched my legs. The sky was a rippling velvet, brightest blue and blackest gray, mist and heat. We sat at the back of the bus.

The pueblo was sleepy silent, I looked into the river and saw a bright circus poster slumped against the rocks, water rushing over the elephants and tigers, over the big bold letters. It was a sad thing to see, but the mountains reached up all around us, and there was a bright blue café with a chalkboard menu, and we walked with brisk legs and the air felt clean.

My boots felt solid on the dirt pathways, we walked past neat little farms and beautiful persimmon trees, we came upon a shed of goats. There was a dog by the gate, he saw us and leaned against it—he looked like a sad tiger. When I came up to him he stood up and pawed at the gate with one hefty paw, he stood up on his back feet and shoved his nose through the bars. He was soft between the ears and his eyes were dark and sweet.

As we climbed the hills we were thankful for the chill. We came upon a square government building and a block of cement with three different sides, all strange and wonderful street art. We passed more persimmon trees and a man drove by on a motorcycle with a black lamb draped across his lap. It lifted its head to look at us as they passed. Up high in the hills were lonely crumbling buildings, they looked beautiful and serious.

We climbed cement slab steps, nervously crossed swaying suspension bridges and waddled under big overhanging stones along the river. The water looked clean, blue and cold. We found two big stones in a little cave of foliage and sat to eat sandwiches and mandarins and pastries and then the sky opened up, just a little, and sprinkled us with water, and we cleaned up quickly and scrambled back along with big overhanging stones, the belly of the mountain.

When we came back to the swaying bridge, it was raining on the rock climbers, it was raining on their black dog. When we came to the stone steps, we parted ways and wound around and up in an unexpected spurt of chilly exhilaration. We scrambled up a jagged path and reached a little plateau, we raised our arms and looked up into the gray sky and down at the glistening tree tops, we looked down at that fiery autumnal red, at green and green and green. From up top we could see two little figures huddled together beneath a tree. We whooped and waved, and they danced back up at us.

We made a circle of warm bodies and with stiff fingers lit a sturdy little spliff, warmed our lungs with the tang of tobacco and weed. I clambered down the hill with it perched between my lips, exhaled into the sky and felt my own skin with a definite lucidity as the little drips of water slid down my nose. 


The way back is always quicker. We were back on the sidewalk, we walked past the circus poster, dissolving in the wet, we stood at the bus stop with our hands in our pockets.