me.

I’m hoping that as I write this, I will find some inspiration to talk about the last few months of my life. I don’t know if I will, but I promise to attempt to do so. 🙂 Let’s see… I’ve only been awake for about an hour today, so there’s not much to tell of THIS particular day. Yesterday was crazy… I ran around for about 8 hours just trying to get some stuff accomplished that would make life and moving easier. We were supposed to start the moving process last weekend but couldn’t b/c my tax return hasn’t quite found it’s way to my bank account yet. I’m excited about the move, though. I believe that being able to have my own household again will be beneficial for me and the kids. But I’ll still be close enough to mom (she’ll be right next door) that I can help her out and still have big family dinners with her and the brothers. The apartments are small, but cozy. I hope that we can downsize the junk we have to a more manageable amount before we finally move. I’ve started clearing out and throwing away and donating a lot of what we have so that we don’t have as much of it to move. I took the poor family from approximately 20 big black trash bags of clothes to about 7. I think my mom went into shock. She’s such a packrat that anytime someone suggests throwing stuff out, she has a seizure. I had to put my foot down though. When I left for Spain, I left with the belief that everything would be ok since I was only to be gone for about 5 weeks. Let me tell you, it wasn’t. While this should bother me or make me feel very put upon, it doesn’t. It’s nice to be needed. And I’d far rather be needed by my family than one of the far too many headcases I’ve dated. *sick chuckle*

Speaking of coffee, did I mention that I fell mad in love with Spanish coffee? I don’t know exactly what it is that makes it so wonderful, but I miss it horribly. We went down to the beach 3 or 4 times a week so that we could sit in this little cafe/bar called La Caleta and sip yummy coffee while watching the people on the boardwalk or just staring at the water. *sigh* It was as close as I’ve ever imagined coming to nirvana. I could literally sit there for hours (and did) just experiencing. The people were so casual and seemed very at peace with the world around them all the time. Now, don’t get me wrong, they weren’t sloppy in their appearance, at all. This was the largest amount of perfectly groomed people I’ve ever seen in one place. Everyone, yes, I mean everyone, had every hair in place, every article of clothing draped just so, the perfect shoes, the perfect nails, subtle, yet somewhat daring makeup. It was like living on a runway. You could easily pick out the Americans from the strolling public based entirely on what they were wearing. At first, I couldn’t discern a difference. Then I watched closer. While many of the Americans tried to blend in, they mostly failed miserably. There was just an artless grace about the Spaniards that was inherent in everything about them. And if there was a person who was brave enough to come out in public wearing only jeans and a sweatshirt, you knew they were American. It became a game for me to see if I could tell. Until I realized that I was just as obviously American as the rest of them. *wrinkled nose* I had no concept of what to pack and take with me, so my clothing options were severly limited. I had only brought jeans with me. While this in itself isn’t a bad thing b/c plenty of Spaniards wear jeans, I had also only included one or two “nice” shirts and even those didn’t add up to fashionable. The rest of my pathetic wardrobe was t-shirts, tanktops, and, yes, even a sweatshirt. Now, had I picked an idea and stuck with it while packing, I may have been able to pull off a certain bohemian look that would have blended well with the many dreadlocked, pierced young people that could be seen lounging about and napping on the beach. Even that may have saved me from my conspicuousness. Alas, I didn’t have the proper attire for that, either. Finally, I resigned myself to be tourist-y and enjoyed my coffee.

I’m ready to go back, though. I am happy that my family needs me and plenty willing to provide for them to the best of my abilities, but I miss it. I miss the feeling I had every morning, waking up, making coffee, lounging around until whenever. Walking everywhere (due to lack of car) and just observing and absorbing the ambience around me. *sigh again*

Well, at least I have a million memories to hold on to for now, huh? It was really a great thing to have been able to do. That sentence is entirely too lukewarm for the feeling I’m trying to express, but it’s the best my still slightly numb mind can accomplish. *smile*

I’ll try to remember to share an anecdote or two sometime in the near future, but I’m not promising anything. *grin*

Love to you all and thanks for reading my… well… crap. 🙂

tia