white christmas

Got my white Christmas and it snowed even more last night. Is beautiful. Supposedly dumped 2 feet of new snow up on the pass, and we got at least six inches here at Mom's house. The picture is her front yard and looking across the street.

Being home is an interesting experience. When I got to Portland it felt like I'd never left, which was a little disappointing. I'd been hoping for a sweet ache of satisfaction after wanting, desperately at times, to be home again for so long. In the end I decided that what it means is that home will always be home. I will always belong in Portland. This is a relief. Deep in my heart, part of me has been worried that while I am in Spain my friends and family will learn to live without me and Portland will change to such a degree that there will be no place for me when I return. It is very important to me to belong somewhere and to have friends that bring out the best in me. Feeling like I never left has put those fears to rest and has made it possible for me to look on the next six months with a healthier, more optimistic attitude.

I have not written a word of the novel since I've been back. I haven't made time for it. But I don't feel too terribly guilty about that. I'll have plenty of time for writing when I first get back to Madrid, and beyond that the novel is something I'm doing in Madrid to help me channel all the feelings of anxiety, angst, confusion, etc. that come along with culture shock. It's my therapy to keep me sane abroad.

Time with the family has been what it always is: both comforting and challenging. We do best together when we're involved in a specific activity (walking, watching a movie, playing a game), but when we're all left to our own devices, people start competing for attention and that's when things get hairy. I have spent more time than you might think reading or hanging out in a corner by myself. I feel a little guilty about this because I know that this is the only time in nine months I will see my family, but on the other hand I don't want to lose my patience and have my interactions with family members be full of snippy comments and argument. Is a hard thing to balance.

in the Newark airport

So far have been traveling (including time it took to get to the airport) for approximately 13.5 hours. Ack! Our plane left Madrid about an hour late, but we arrived in Newark only 30 minutes behind schedule. Was surprised that passport control and customs were so friendly and non-threatening. Guess I am used to being treated with some hostility, though I suppose I only really have my England experience for reference.

When I checked in at Barajas this morning they gave me my boarding pass for the Newark-Portland flight also, and my ticket informed me that my flight time had been changed. Originally I was supposed to fly out of here at 5 something and arrive at PDX at 9pm, but now I'm not flying out until 7:25pm and arriving at PDX a little before 11pm. Nutters. I like airports and don't really mind waiting around, but I am anxious to get back to Oregon. But am happy to be back in the U.S. anway, which is odd because I was so impatient to leave it behind. Guess I have a newfound appreciation for my country. It's so clean and civilized, and people actually make an effort to appear friendly when you speak to them.

I cried a little in the Barajas airport this morning because I am so grateful to be coming home. I slept a lot on the plane, watched some TV, and tried to imagine going back to Madrid in two weeks. My heart rebels against the idea. But I am committed. At least until the end of February. Then I can reevaluate the situation.

But it's silly to think about that now. I'm going home! I might have Taco Bell for dinner tonight! I get to see my friends and family for the next two whole weeks!!! My tears are tears of love and gratitude.

just hear those sleigh bells ring-a-ling

Have been trying really hard not to think too much about the fact that I am going to be home tomorrow. I think my heart might burst from longing and anticipation.

Besides, first I have to get through 21 and a half hours of airports and airplanes. By the time I get to PDX it will be 6am Madrid time the day after I left.

Last night I dreamed I was running. And that I was free.

things are looking up

Hooray! Brother is coming to Christmas after all! Double, no, TRIPLE hooray!!!

Also found a good gift or two for Mom, and Dad finally gave me a couple suggestions for his gift, so am happy about that as well.

Also got long and very satisfying email from friend CJ and am feeling reconnected to her.

Still no New Year's plans, but am convinced that we will find something stimulating to do. After all, we ARE the party... =*)

Six days until I come home!!!

quote of the day

One of my students in class tonight said, "It is unfortunate, that the defecation, she is not more popular." And he actually meant it.

I will be in Portland one week from today! Yippee!!!

a package

Today I received a care package from Kelsey and Steve that made me squeal and jump around and dance for joy and then tear up a little. Not only did it have M&M's in it, but they sent some Christmas catalogs and the best present ever: two boxes of Kraft mac & cheese!!! Having just spent the last half hour gorging myself on cheesy goodness and flipping through a Victoria's Secret catalog, I can officially declare that Kelsey and Steve are excused from Christmas and birthday presents for the next ten years.

In other news, I so wished I had a camera yesterday. There was a Spanish woman walking her dog--a little bichon frise wearing and blue and white striped sweater--in the park. This woman was probably in her late 60's or early 70's and I could not believe what she was wearing: furry pink boots with pom-poms on, black stretch leggings, a 3/4 length white coat with faux fur color, enormous designer sunglasses, and on top of her stark white head she wore a bright red felt fedora. F'ing priceless is what that was.

the incompetent spy

Here's an excerpt from the novel-in-progress, just for fun. (It's a first draft, so please do not judge too harshly.)

She saw another waiter striding down the hotel hall toward her and tried not to panic. Just act like you’re supposed to be here, she told herself, and he won’t question it. As the waiter got closer she made sure to keep her back straight and her head up. She looked him right in the eye as he passed and was surprised by their color: an intense blue that was at odds with his jet-black hair. Perhaps he dyed his hair? No time to think about that now, Tiger! Keep your eye on the prize! The blue-eyed waiter nodded as he passed and…was that a smirk? Shit, did she have a booger hanging out of her nose or something? She checked, just to be sure, but felt nothing. Oh well. She would worry about that later. Right now she had a job to do.

She had arrived at the room before she knew it. She stood staring glossily at the brassy numbers affixed to the white door for a moment: 214. She took a deep breath, lifting her right hand to knock as her left hand moved into her pocket for the gun, but then she noticed that the door wasn’t completely shut. She glanced quickly behind her to assure herself that the coast was clear, took the gun out of her pocket and cautiously toed the door open. The entrance to the suite was empty, but no sooner had she peered around the corner into the living room than the swearing started.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said. “What the fuck…” Three men lay dead on the floor, their throats slashed, pools of blood soaking into the cream colored carpet. The boss, the one she had come to kill, was lying face down in the doorway, his legs in the living room and his oversized torso in the bedroom. His throat too was slashed. “Goddammit! Now how the fuck am I gonna get paid?” She kicked the nearest body a few times in the gut out of anger and frustration. Then she was over it and trying to figure out how much time she had before someone came through the door and saw her standing over four dead bodies. Not long.

She slid quietly out the door, retrieved her backpack from behind the potted plant and hightailed it down the stairwell. She was only half a flight down when she heard screaming. Probably someone from the suite next door. She’d gotten out just in time.

I feel out of it today. Grumpy. Distant, even from myself. Felt fine this morning when I got up, but as soon as I arrived downtown to go shopping at el rastro I went into some kind of funk. Maybe it was all the people. Maybe it was paranoia about pickpockets. Maybe it was the sun, which seemed sweltering today. Maybe it was all the absolute crap they're trying to sell at exhorbitant (for a flea market) prices. I spent an hour wading through crowds and came out with several Christmas presents, but am sad because I did not find the perfect gift for my mother. Somehow am drawing a blank and don't know what to get her. Perhaps an ashtray that says "Smoke less, asshole"? Kidding. In a way it's like I'm just so excited to see her, and anything I buy her will seem cheesy and insufficient.

Then tonight I found out that my brother will not be having Christmas with us. I think this is the first Christmas in my whole life I won't be spending with him. I understand he has a life and has to work and all that, but I'm still a little sad. Surely he could convince his boss to give him a couple days off? Surely he knows I or Mom would gladly drive him back up to Portland the day after Christmas if he had to be back at work? But maybe he's just had enough of Christmas. It can be exhausting.

Also am slightly depressed that most of my friends will be out of town for New Year's. However, am very grateful to Chris for being willing to drive me up to Portland and spend New Year's with me, and Robert is interested in celebrating with us, so it's a start.

But am trying to be more positive, so now will think of some good news. Okay, yes. I continue to make some progress on the novel. I have names for the main characters and even a few ideas for scenes. My next step, besides continuing to brainstorm, will be to buy and read a couple mystery/spy novels and a couple romance novels. For research purposes, you understand. It's been a long while since I read any romance novels, and aside from this wonderfully hideous 80's bestseller my roommate's mother sent and I just read, I don't think I've ever read a spy novel. Had a couple unfortunate experiences with John Grisham audiobooks, but never actually READ one. Little did I know that Grisham's penchant for horrid similes would come in handy one day... I still remember, maybe from The Pelican Brief, "She shifted into fifth gear like a professional race car driver." (Perhaps not an exact quote but you get the idea.) The best part was that the similes appeared at fairly regular intervals in the writing, so my brother and I would anticipate the next one by calling out "like a" at the right moment. I think it ruined it a little for Mom, but we had fun with it.

another weekend of travel

Yesterday went to Ávila with Shannon for the first time and today went to Segovia for the second time with my friend and fellow teacher Alan. The old town at Ávila is walled in, much like Toledo and Segovia. The stone is interesting: pinks and reds and browns all marbled together. Other than that, I'd say Ávila isn't super impressive. My main reason for revisiting Segovia was to have a look inside the castle, which was built in the 12th century. I have to say that whoever designed the castle didn't really seem to think it out too well. The throne room and the royal bedroom were too near the main entrance and not at all hard to find if you wanted to come in and start killing royalty. The guilded ceilings were impressive, and it was neat to see all the suits of real armour on display, but overall I was slightly disappointed by the interior of the castle, given that the exterior is so impressive. Ah well. Segovia is still a very pretty town. I think probably I am just burnt out on travel around Spain and am ready to come home for a couple weeks. Ten days until I fly home for Christmas! Hooray!!! =*)

To see my photos of Ávila from yesterday, copy and paste this link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=23363&l=5cc88&id=595126014

To see my photos of Segovia from today, copy and paste this link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=23367&l=0a1d7&id=595126014

Good news! Yesterday found out that my sneezing is due to allergies, not to a cold. Also have itchy eyes, and I saw the thick yellow pollen of evergreens dusting the walls of Ávila yesterday.

day 1 of a 4-day weekend

Last night I arranged a group night out. There were both Spanish- and English-speaking people there, several Spaniards, three or four Americans, a Canadian, an Australian and a Scotsman. Quite the international crowd, no? We went to a bar and took over basically a whole room. They had an electronic dart board, so part of the evening was spent challenging each other to games and shit-talking. I won every dart game I played (pure luck, I assure you). Good times.

Today I slept in a bit, lazed around, watched Practical Magic for the 50 millionth time, and then met Shannon to research karaoke bars for our next monthly TtMadrid social event. Did find one near the Parque Retiro, so we just need to choose a date and send out an email. Hurrah. Then I went over to my friend Ishmael's house and we watched The Fifth Element and talked sci-fi. He might help me with my sci-fi vampire romance spy novel.

Am making some progress with the novel idea, by the way. It is now a trilogy. I have the main character's spy name (and possibly her real name) as well as a brief synopsis of the three novels. I also have a pen name and a draft of the "about the author." Plan to have a draft of the first novel finished by June.

Tomorrow Shannon and I will go to Ávila for the day. It's only an hour and a half by train. Another walled city that's supposed to be very beautiful...and cold, I hear. Will need to remember to bring hat and buy some gloves (left one of my gloves in Paris). Then on Saturday I'm going back to Segovia with my friend Alan. He plans to eat cochinillo and I plan to spend at least two hours wandering around inside the castle. Sunday morning Shannon, Kez, Meaghan (Canadian friend and fellow teacher) and I will hit El Rastro for Christmas shopping, and then I'll need to spend the afternoon lesson planning.

Have been feeling surprisingly content the last few days. Partly because I'm building my social life and partly because I'm super excited to be going home in two weeks. Also have been spending quite a bit of time watching Flight of the Conchords video clips on YouTube. If you haven't seen any, I highly recommend them. Very funny stuff. Among my favorites: "Rhymenocerous vs. Hiphopopotamus" and "Bret, You've Got It Goin' On." (See video links on the right of this page.)

Have been toying with an idea for a novel lately. It's to be (get ready) a sci-fi vampire romance spy novel! Yes, it does sound quite horrible, but I'm having fun. And there's plenty of trash that gets published and makes a lot of money, so this is going to be my money-maker that allows me to sit around and write "serious" literature. Obviously will have to use a nom de plume for the trashy novel so that I can still get other stuff published under my real name. Ha!

weekend: a retrospective

Got a late start to the weekend, as I had to make up a class on Friday afternoon at one of the companies I work in and then I had a private class in my neighborhood that went until 7:30pm.

My Friday private student´s name is Alba. She´s a 16 year old girl who studies hard, is very sweet and probably isn't overly popular at school. Over the course of the last two months, I've taken to calling Alba's mother tía and calling Alba and her sister Leticia mis primas. It's a joke between the four of us because they treat me like an adopted family member, and every time I call Gloria tía she cracks up. On a whim I decided to bring some fresh guacamole to their house this week so that they could try it. After my lesson with Alba, in which she railed against her tyrranical English teacher and reduced herself to tears once again, we all crammed into the dining nook and they tried the guac. I hadn't used much seasoning, so the guacamole wasn't spicy, but the whole family stuck their tongues out and fanned them with their hands, all the while exclaiming "que picante!"

As a result of the snacking period I arrived back home at 8pm, the same time I'd told my friend Alan to show up for dinner. I had planned to be at least halfway through the cooking process by the time he got there, but in the end he was happy to help me chop things and then to find videos of Beatles songs on YouTube to entertain us while dinner finished cooking. We drank chardonnay (bought at a specialty wine shop for €6.75, which is quite pricey for wine in Spain), ate pasta, watched YouTube videos and chatted about books, TV shows and our respective existential crises. Good times.

On Saturday afternoon Shannon and I headed to our friend Ishmael's house to help him celebrate his birthday by eating ten pounds of salty food (each) and watching the entire Bourne trilogy. There were six of us: 5 women and Ishmael, all of us TtMadriders. I was stoked because I hadn't seen the Bourne trilogy before, and I was not disappointed. All of us women spent pretty much the whole time making comments about Matt Damon's hotness between movie lines, and Ishmael's true birthday present was a sneak peak into the filthy female mind.

Today I woke up a little after noon and have been lesson planning and eating leftover pasta. Am excited because this week is a short one: Thursday and Saturday are national holidays, so my work week ends at 3:15pm Wednesday. Over the long weekend I plan to do a little socializing in Madrid as well as take a couple day trips, one with Shannon on Friday to we-haven't-decided-where and one on Saturday to Segovia with Alan. He hasn't been before, and I want to go back to get a look inside the castle.

17 days until I'm home again!!! =*)

a bit of a phenomenon

One of the first things that happens to many North American women who move to Madrid, aside from being ogled and perhaps robbed, is that they experience sudden and dramatic weight loss. There are several factors that contribute to this weight loss, including adjusting to Spanish food, adjusting to Spanish eating times, fatigue, and a shit load of walking. The second thing that happens is that these women wear their clothes and wash them and hang them up to dry and find that their clothes no longer fit. Not just because they've lost a lot of weight, but also because there is no electric dryer to shrink the clothes back up again after wearing and washing them. The result is Saggy Bottom Syndrome, a very serious condition wherein one's jeans tend to droop in the posterior and crotch areas, making it look as though our bottoms are flat and flabby and our crotches tent in a sort of mini-penis effect. The only remedy is to do as the Spanish women do: buy your jeans about two sizes too small and squeeze yourself into them anyway. This way, once you've worn and washed them a few times they'll look like they actually fit you instead of looking like they were made for someone twice your size.

exploring a possible future

My weekend in Paris was enough to sweep me up in a week of flurried creative energy, but it has died back down now. Sad, becuase I was really enjoying it. But even before I went to Paris I was thinking that I might enjoy some kind of career in creative non-fiction writing. Problem being that what I write doesn´t fit into a genre: it´s somewhere between diary and memoir and prose poetry.

I went so far as to look into MFA in Nonfiction programs. There aren't many. Northwestern offers one in Chicago, but then I'd have to be away from Portland for a few more years and that's unappealing. PSU offers an M.A. in Creative Non-fiction, but then I´ve already gotten an M.A. from PSU and I wonder whether that would be a barrier to being admitted there again. I could just take a few writing classes at PSU while temping or working some other job, but then I would have to depend on night class offerings and it costs almost $1500 just to take 4 credits in one term. Blech.

Or I could just write an not take classes. One of the downsides to that plan is that I don´t have reliable readers to help me revise my work. Also, I know myself well enough to know that I have a hard time making myself sit down and write and revise on a regular basis unless there are external motivators, such as due dates for a class.

The last part of this formula is location. Madrid is not as inspiring as Paris, but I don´t remember feeling very inspired when I was in Portland either. Potential problem. Part of me wonders whether it's just a matter of getting into the habit of writing...I know that some places are easier to write in than others, but maybe it's possible to write in all places if you're dedicated to it.

Ideas and suggestions welcome.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Stacey!!! =*)