'Night

I carefully watched the world rotate today, and will sleep outiside on the balcony, as a result. Good night, my loves.

Back

Boston June 2l; STL June 5th. Things have changed. You should know.

it was an inverted vortex of silence

..At dinner, the weather of the room was silent. Though quiet was the air, in the cages of their bodies, turbulance, tempestuous seas, wind picking up the leaves off the ground, the stirring of the clouds like a cauldron. Emmanuel picked at his green beans like a forlorn skipper while Nadia held her glass near her face with the concentration that captains fix upon lighthouses...

That is all you get!

Trip to the Clinic.....of my soul!!

Hi.

I'm pressing forward into this super intense Monday morning full of responsibilities and major productiveness. One part of that early morning requires me to grab my MRI results at the huge clinic in Granada. I wake up early to go return the rental car that we took the day prior on a day-long beach journey (COOL!). Then I walk down to the clinic because my knee is actually feeling like it can do it/I'm never exploring around this early and I'd damned better not get in a motorized vehicle and miss all the stuff of life twinkling outside. (yeah dudes; twinkles in the daytime). So I leave the clinic and decided that since I am relatively close to my favorite park in Granada, I must stop by.

Upon the first step into the grounds of the park, a smile splits open on my face. EVERYTHING HAD EXPLOSIVELY BLOOMED SINCE I LAST CAME!! Old men playing bochi with a quaint crowd of onlookers. There is canopy, and hedge, some places where I can't see past, smells of life. Damn you have no idea what it's like to live in a place without green (perhaps some of u do, actually). This is the 'payoff' for the charming, small cobblestone streets and tightly built neighborhoods: CONCRETION in UR VEINS. Terrible. "Well we have views of the mtns. Granada is so wonderfully placed. It's near so many pretty places". NEAR. I believe a city must be a partner to the natural world, must encorporate it into the structure..parks trees plants all over, not just in ONE PLACE GRANADA. ANyway, I do these rant things, don't I? Well, check: So I'm walking in this glorious park and it is cold, kind of dim, threats of rainy sky overhead, clouds and wind, and I turn a right, which puts me on this very long path. A long and straight path. There are these little cotton things floating around. I try to catch one. I look ahead of me. THE PATH IS LINED WITH COTTON, piled on the sides. It looks just like snow, and with the wind strong, crisp air, dire sky, it feels just like a beautiful winter incident. The long path, adorned, looks just like its out of a movie. I think I walked the entirity of the path with mouth agape. That is, until, I came to the rose garden, where each one had an entirely unique smell. The queen of hearts would have been rather mad at me, had she been there. My curiosity put me on par with Alice, and I wondered where she was. I miss all my Alices.

It was pretty. It made me write later that night. I find I have little time to write. How did this become so? Why are there so many things to take care of? How did it become that responsibilities attack me? This relationship needs to become healthier, because the dry responsibilities will always be there. But is it possible to make them fun? Make THEM fun? Of do we have to throw fake snow and rose gardens into our days to make it all good?

The Relevance of this,

I'd say, is quite spectacular.


Just Walking Around

What name do I have for you?
Certainly there is not name for you
In the sense that the stars have names
That somehow fit them. Just walking around,

An object of curiosity to some,
But you are too preoccupied
By the secret smudge in the back of your soul
To say much and wander around,

Smiling to yourself and others.
It gets to be kind of lonely
But at the same time off-putting.
Counterproductive, as you realize once again

That the longest way is the most efficient way,
The one that looped among islands, and
You always seemed to be traveling in a circle.
And now that the end is near

The segments of the trip swing open like an orange.
There is light in there and mystery and food.
Come see it.
Come not for me but it.
But if I am still there, grant that we may see each other.


A reccomendation for all you blog-readers out there. Read John Ashbery. Be changed.

Rafael's simple and clear words

Also, after a conversation with a coworker about LIFE the other day, he ended it all with "No tengas prisa". Why the HELL have I been feeling PRISA. Why did I try to "Grow Up" while here?? WHY??? Growing up will happen what it's damn well ready. So many other things are knocking at the door for attention (oh, what patience you've had!)

Other Peoples' Wisdom and my Dreams

Few Things. You'll get descriptive travel tales soon, we're hoping.

But for now, two things.

First, we hung with these Aussie chicks in Barcelona. One of them was an accupuncturist and an alternative nutritionist. She studied alternative medicine in both Australia and China. We talked about and worked on my knee, in various ways while I was there. At one point, we're having like a 1.5 hr consultation about the natural remedies I can start experimenting with, and she was talking about treatments that only releive pain, or temporarily treat a problem, and that I have to figure out what in my life is making me knee hurt. That the injury, that pain, is never only physical. Since my injury literally prevents me from moving, what is preventing me from moving?

I can't say I believed much in the metaphysical stuff prior, but you are forced to become so in tune with the nuances of your injury, especially when it feels that no one else can really help you but your self, and it becomes quite too obvious that ALL forms of the human being are tied up together at all points and when put under stress, you will realize and need to realize (and access all parts of) this intertwining.

So I've been thinking since the trip, "What is the real cause of this injury? What is holding me back from my movement as a person?" I'm starting to know what this is, but the things that I'm learning, I am going to keep between me, myself and I. This knowledge is only for the self. This battle I want to keep within me, for now.

1.5 : Today I went to my yoga class. Upon my walk my knee started killing me. I attempted to go to class yesterday, too, but had to turn around during the walk because the knee was hurting too severely. [This current intense pain is due to running many blocks in Barcelona with my backpack in my back in order to jump a bus heading to the airport. We didn't want to miss our flight, but as a result, my knee is rather desecrated]. Today it hurt a little less, and I decided I would at least try it and see what happens. At about my 3rd suryanamaskaram, I stop, stand still. I just can't do this class. I know it will be bad idea for me knee. The teacher walks over. She wants to help me. I tell her, no no its okay I'll just leave..I can't do the class. I also didn't want to pay for the class since I wouldn't be able to fully participate. She insisted that I stay and she proceeded to lead me through my own restorative yoga class while she SIMULTANEOUSLY taught a regular Asthanga class to the rest of the room. She was and is simply amazing. I have had so many yoga teachers in my day and she might be the best. Granted, I have never NEEDED a really good yoga teacher like I do right now, and I have never needed a yoga teacher to be receptive to my being in the way that Paula seems to be tuned into my depths like I do right effing now. I am so happy and so at peace and so pleased that I could do a class, that I did it, that I stuck around, and that I had that experience of practicing 1.5 hours of yoga, instead of doing anything else. AFter class, Paula and I talked a lot, and finally when she got to the point where she said that "You simply can NOT leave when your knee hurts. Do you know how bad it feels to leave a class, to give up? Yoga is about all parts of a person. I don't want you to feel bad. That will not help an injury". I cried a little and she gave me besos when I left. I am so grateful to have even just one more month with her.

Two: In Spain occassionally I have these dreams where I wake up knowing that I was in deep love in the dream, and it was one of the most profound, fulfilling feelings ever. I wake up with that feeling still there. This happened last night.

So much is realized in retrospect.

Annis on the hilltop

Yesterdy Alyssa and I went for a short walk in the April drizzle, making our way through the curving streets of the Albaiycin where a new route landed us up front and personal with an exploration opportunity. Crazy huge ruin-looking things. We took the opportunity and climbed around to explore, eventually spotting a group in the distance on what looked like the old terrace part of the structure. There, we ran into Andrea, my flatmate, and ended up getting sucked into the group for the rest of the night. This included countless annis shots (to enhance our cultural education), a lot of red wine and tapas, moustaches, dogs, dancing, one of the more splendid flats I've seen in Granada, great people, international fusion, and a renewed love for Spain and Europe.

Seriously, though. I'm totally in it right now. And Alyssa and I go to Barcelona this weekend so things can only get better! The momentum soars and I wonder if I am perhaps cutting the European adventure short. I'll let you know when I get back. Also, I'm reminded that I owe you a Portgual tale. Have you checked out the pictures, though? The pictures tell a fair deal. Here's the link again: http://picasaweb.google.es/mallory.nezam/PORTUGAL#

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

The End is Near and Nigh

The most lessons you learn, those that you will really impliment into the reality of your existence, lessons which you will actually use to perform the act which you will be responsible for above all over things: living--you learn not inside the classroom. Yes, the real lessons, the really hard stuff (because you must understand, interlize, perform and then entirely actualize) you learn by doing; you learn by trying. I had a very late night conversation with a good friend Matt Freese via Skype the other night and one thing we discussed has stuck with me the past few days. Matt, who is I think 1.5 yrs old than myself spoke of how the real challenge--a challenge that he didn't realize until he had to do the starting to live life thing--, is implimenting ideas. For example, Matt said that he wants to live a happy, healthy and full life, but what does that mean. What are the components of a happy, healthy, full life, and how do we put that together from day to day? In college they do a great job of teaching us how to come up with great ideas, and that's the start, but what about actualizing those things? There are the few kids who really do push forth and grapple with that in college--the Student Senate presidents, the pioneers of new organizations, kids throwing the large, school-wide events, etc. There are some ways to get that experience in college, but when you leave college, EVERYTHING suddenly becomes one of those tasks where you have to impliment ideas you have in to action, into a feasable, tangeable, live-able reality. Otherwise, they are just ideas floating around, and while they can often be poetic and beautiful in their immateriality and ephemereality, they can only be poetic if coupled with actualized endeavours. Otherwise, they are just unrealistic and almost (can I say this? will you kill me?) sad.

This, in combination with things Sophie and I were saying during a quick chat, re: "Nobody tells you _______ (specifically pertaining to like after college)"...The secret life after school-life, where the main challenge is that NOBODY tells you anything. You must peice it together with the ammunition you've got, that you've gained, and they you can find availible to you. (Another thing I've learned [sidenote]: So much is availible to you. You just must know where to find it and how to get it. The WORLD is availible to you. Look for what you want. Find it hiding in the creavasses and grab it, tightly, like a lizzard trying to get away, and examine it, try it, do it).

Wow. How much this past year has changed me. It's almost May, which means the full year anniversary of alumni-hood. I feel so much older in an age-grants-wisdom kind of way.

Spain is coming to an end rather soon and I simply can't believe it. Time flies, always. I've had to start getting into next-phase-of-my-life gear and that could land me honestly anywhere. I'm looking at opportunies in the following cities: STL, Chi, SF, NYC, Boston (these cities bc they are places where I could potentially lives cheaply with housing hook-ups), with the openness for something INTL should I come across it (but I'm not aiming for it, principally). STL is the most likely candidate because I feel that I must return home to a place where I can slow down and deal with the injury before I can ever regain my strength (all ways?) again. I hope this is a true thing and a wise idea. Because, honeslty, I'd rather not be home. The thought of sleeping in that same bedroom gives me chills--literally chills. Although I will be fiercely ecstatic to see MarieKevKyleLaurenEmanCourtDanDanielLindsmyFamily and all the other crazy folks that I love in St. Louis. All of you.

So it could be a good summer if I can find some meaningful things to do, and if I can check knee-healing off of my list of things to have completed in life.

My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid. It beats within my heart, consequently. Amazing how everything effects us so deeply when we are children. This is something I have learned teaching here.

People
People who need people
are the luckiest people
in the world

(Listen to the song!)

Next trip: Thursday morning (EARLY) I head out to Barcelona for 5 days! Ya.

Pues, Nada.

The moon hung
into my mouth.

Merry Tuesday night.

It struck me

She told me, "la fregona es más sucio que el suelo".

Ferris Bueller should have spent some time abroad

Life moves very fast in the United States.

Here's to new perspectives.


Tea. Air. Thoughts. Suficiente

Someone visits Spain..

This just in!!:

Spongebob literally just flew by me. It's night here, I'm out on my balcony, and I see something in my periphery and spongebob comes ROUNDING THE CORNER!!!!! and I was like..SPONGEBOB!!!!! HEY!!! He came in balloon form and he just floated on through my life. Just like that he was there and then he wandered off into the Granada night sky and I watched him wistfully.

Good moment. Very good moment, Spain.

What one wants

I have been inspired. Writing to commence.

Today's Good

Today's a good day. I now own these, for example:

I change my mind so quickly.

Written Yesterday

Written yesterday:

I miss Catherine Sophie Naguine Olga Alison Kari Tyler Kevin Jake Olivia Abbey Alex my family my cats Kyle Raphael Marie Courtney Emanuel Daniel Lindsay Paul Lauren Matt. Some of you occupy my conscious thoughts even multiple times per week! Sometimes in the peripheries of my unconscious thoughts, you make appearances. And in my dreams. Last night I had a particularly strong one and when I took a siesta today, another equally powerful one. Some of you played big parts. One of you surprised me and then we surprised another, and in another dream, I killed one of you (oops!). [I've been writing down a lot of my dreams here in random scrap pieces of paper that I will probably come across later maybe when I'm living in New York one day rummaging through old luggage.

I think I might be ready to come home. That's all there is to it! I'm not going to lie--I looked around my room today for my American cell phone just to read through old text messages-->that's how homesick I am. My travels to Portgual (a great country which you will hear about in a few days, fret not) taught me that maybe I am a little done with Europe for the time being. It taught me that perhaps right now (I can't make real generalizations about 'this stage of my life' because my mind changes really quickly!) it is not the place but the people. I'm going with that.

So what does that mean for the rest of my time here? Well, it means that, firstly, if I get this internship in Wales, I will work on a plan to stay in Europe until the end of June (which I have semi-devised). If not, I could come back as early as the begining of June.

I know one thing. And maybe ONLY one thing: Love. And I'm talking a different kind.

Portugal Photos

Click me to view photos from Portugal!

The Gal to Portugal

Hola Tios. Just to let you know, I'm heading out for Portugal on Friday. My friend Elizabeth and I will be gone for a week, with a possible weekend at the end in Madrid. Stoked! We are starting in the south in Lagos, making it out to Sagres, what used to be considered the Western-most point in the world which is now this sweet spot with cliffs just jutting out in the ocean, crashing turquiose waves and whatnot. Then its up to Lisbon with a day trip to Sintra and eventually further north to Porto and maybe a national Park. Lots of beaches and all time couchsurfing. Can't say I'm not excited. Looking foward to Vino Verde, good food, finally adventures!!, beaches, new flavour of life, waifness.

You'll hear all about it upon my return! Ciao!

Balance

Balance is very nice, and good, and a plus. I have to stop telling myself that Balance makes you lame and stagnant, because it DOESNT!! Balance is just balance..some stability to add into the mix.

Night. Light.

The Light from the window is too beautiful tonight. Close the curtain so it won't be distracting.

A Lisbon Couchsurfer's Wisdom

"If you are going to try, go all the way.
Otherwise don't even start.
This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs. And Maybe your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery, isolation. Isolation is the gift. All others are a test of your endurance. Of how much you really want to do it. And you'll do it, despite rejection in the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine.
If you're going to try, go all the way.
There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods. And the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter.
It's the only good fight there is."

i want to live.
the 9 to 5, wife two kids and a family car has very little to do with being alive. neither does oprah, religion or the monetary system. i mean really live. be free. have an impact on someone. wake someone up. build a life on impulsive and random decisions. i want to see more of our dying planet and be inspired by a few of its people. i will learn from them and hopefully i'll be able to teach something back before our rotten civilization is done. and if i find anything meaningful along the way, i'll let it seep through my skin and rest in a little memory box i call my head.

that's plan A.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Umm, all I'm saying is I REALLY hope we can couch surf with him. Also, I think the only way this can be legal and fair is if I credit him. Thanks, Joao Esteves from Lisbon, Portugal! I hope we will be meeting from march 29-31st!!

AHA!

Need More

Uggh, Spain. Is this really all you've got. Oh, wait. It is. !

and

I am
so tired
of being in my head

Best day in Spain to date

Today the weather is literally unbelievable. Renders me unable to believe that life can truly be this beautiful and that we can be deprived of this intoxication EVER. But, then, the truth hits us that, of course, the sweet just aint sweet without the sour. To know happiness, we must know what it is to be without this feeling. All things are defined by the other (identity of negation). Guess those (literally) 3 months of nearly straight rain paid off. What do I mean by literally unbelievable weather and why does this make LIFE so great? Today, I was unable to sleep in the car during commute (this has its bad effects, see nearly nauseous [but not quite!]) because life was so beautiful and I was too fucking excited to be conscious. I rolled the windows down the entire way and didn't give a shit about the not-so-subtle annoyed grunts the male passengers were making. Screw people who don't appreciate the beauty of existence. [Also, today in the car I more or less decided that I just might hold a very serious personal bias against people who actually LIKE air-conditioning. If you fall into this category and we are on particularly good terms, please refrain from informing me and evaluate your habits/life. love!] Immediately upon my return the city, I am out on my terrace. Sylvia and Andrea, both inspired by the weather, are playing instruments and have conjured up lentil-burgers with a red-pepper sauce, creativity inspired by an exhilaration(<--see SUN). I brew a mean batch of chai, ice it, accompany by food with a salad, head out onto the porch in a sports bra and underwear, poetry, a notebook & paper. I write. With the glass jar that I have decided to use as a liquid holder, I am immediately swept back to childhood: drinking out of jankey jars, hot hot St. Louis summer days, lemonade stands with Devon in front of Zeizo, popsicle, the simple happiness and contentment that you need (you need very little to feel this) in the midst of the summer. When things are that grave, as grave as life gets in the humidity of the midwest, in, say, July, with a batch of fresh lemonade, a friend, and a good city, life is so sweet.

In my world, responsibilities would literally STOP when the weather was nice, and all we would do is make art, be outside, enjoy each other, love each other, create, be inspired, feel things and be happy. There would be lots of body paint.

Today

Give completely.

Receive completely.

The Paradox of Choice - Modernity and Travel

http://www.ted.com/talks/barry_schwartz_on_the_paradox_of_choice.html

First, watch this TED talk.

I think this condition is what is ailing so many of the people my age, coupled with the recent opening expanse of freedom that gets thrown into our hands during a breif, and surreal formality of May (sometimes June...some even January!). The TED talk was reccomended to me by a new friend, and then the day after I watched it, Barry actually came onto The Colbert Report as I was watching it, too! This stuff is just being drilled into my head. I mean, literally, as he expounded on the Colbert floor, I was mouthing right along with him. It's true, though, this idea that more choice, more freedom, isn't necessarily always better, and that sometimes people flounder in and/or are overwhelmed by the seeming infinity availible to them. It takes forever to make a decision. You have a much more likely chance of being unsatisfied, because there are 3498 things you didn't do; there are 892 options you didn't take. So your choice could have been THAT much better, or you could have experienced 6262 more things.

Soph recently send me breif thoughts on the infinite freedom of travel and the happiness or at least the feeling of unfulfillment that it sometimes brings along with it, is THIS (above). And then those that I DO see fully, 100% engaged and ecstatic, content in the transient existence, potent, breif, then fleeting moments, are those who have been disallusioned prior and are therefore happy to be escaping, starting over, finding themselves (disallusioned both politically, and personally), do a lot of drugs (ill let u interpret THEIR 'happiness' on ur own terms), are happi[er] than they would be where they came from (bitterness).

Sometimes I wonder if Happiness is only entirely relative. Maybe JOY is something more than the sum of us, reaching up and beyond. Happiness refers back. Does it always get it's meaning by comparing, through negation? Look: "I'm happy, sitting here in this big leather chair, sipping lemonade a.k.a. I'm happy because I'm NOT mowing the lawn and Alex is doing it instead".

I'll be thinking about this rather intensely. I must. This is one of my fatal flaws: that I want nearly EVERYTHING, and so I dip into everything, but I don't get it all. I never can get it all if I want the WORLD, instead of educational reform, for example.
Yet it leaves me with a little bit of a million things, and a LOT of fire, which I guess is what makes me me. But I am insane.

Would you like some CATCH UP on that burger??

Life has exploded in the Busy sense. I have taken on a lot of new things in my PRESENT life:
-started an english theater troop at my school
-4 private tutor sessions weekly
-physical therapy daily
-frequent foot doc visits
-weekly writer's workshop
-new friends

-thinking about starting to begin the lit and vis arts mag process here
-planning a trip to Portgual and Barcelona/bona'
-looking into the FUTURE! (just when the present kicks in and i realize i am actually LIVING here, the future peeks its little head out)

Speaking of health, look: phys ther daily + 2400mg anti-inflammatories daily + no intense, or even slightly intense exercize + AMAZING new 95 euro custom-made shoe inserts which are feeling AMAZING and already immediatly the pain has dissappeared (crazy!) = the healing of the knee. I also am pretty sure I have tendinitis in my left elbow from waitressing (I always tend to hold trays and stacks of plates on my left hand, and my hips are ridiculously loose right now--they click cONstantly when I even just rotate my leg. These are the next two health projects I will embark upon whilst insured(!!!!!), along with a reduced price dentist visit. Oh the insanity of the American healthcare system. I'm like frantically treating every ailment I have because I'm racing the clock before I head back to the land of the uninsured. I'm not gonna say I haven't thought about sticking around Europe for health reasons. Don't hate me cuz I'm wise and cuz my Spanish private health insurance lasts until 2019. Gasp!

If you ask me what I'm doing after my job, when I'm coming back to the States and if I will make it to Paul and Billy's wedding in May, I will say "I don't know, I don't know, unfortunately not--don't remind me. I just got the officially invitation today :(". I am looking into the possiblity of volunteering at a lit festival in Paris, and interning at a lit and arts festival in Wales. Both in June. Now it is looking as if my friend Daniel Waxler, Emanuel, and I might try to meet up. Because D is looking for a vacay, and Eman, him and I are a fantastic bunch. That one would actually be in May, though. Any my friend Max from Oxy, who is studying in Amsterdam at the moment, will hopefully be coming down here around the 2nd weekend in April. Should be good. Also, Will in Spain?? Teaching English?? Naguine and her mom might be coming to France around July, and I remember Celeste saying something about Italy... Anyone else!?

Total Graceland

its funny because in the Paul Simon lyrics to Graceland (which is currently one of my most favorite things, ever), 'losing love' can be replaced with 'oozing love' for the same sort of insightful truth. At first, I heard the song as "oozing". Perhaps that's because it's how I saw it.

And she said losing love
is like a window in your heart
everybody sees your blown apart
everybody sees the wind blow

So both losing and oozing love blows us apart
and puts us all back together.

It got me thinking of love, and how ridicously luck I am to have so many phenomenal people who actually, really love me, and I them. It's really hard when I can't be there to share that with all of you, but just really...how amazing is this thing??? Blowing us apart. It's almost..like..literally...we've been blown apart...picture me flowing and flailing through the air, heading towards Spain, and you, spinning around getting tossed up into the air in St. Louis, Seattle, Portland, wherever; and that's love that tosses us, and turns us, actually pulls US apart--maybe love of self, of adventure, experiencing life, etc--and LOOK(!)..You can see the wind blowing in between us, but that just means there is so much more space for us to fill with love. It's this same love that when you love people, you'll shatter them, you'll challenge them to look within themselves, to recreate, to rebecome, to understand who THEY are by YOU, and by themselves, and this is a shattering, an obliterating and we need our friends and people that love us for this, and then it's recreation, too. It's the shattering and the recreation that's the love. It's shattering and the wind--the others' energy, the others' love--dancing around the peices and putting it all back together for you, with you, in a new and different way, and then here you are. Here we are. And Paul Simon's done it again. And the way that he puts it to music..heartwrenching, to be conservative.

Conclusion of Post: I absolutely LOVE and ADORE YOU and I'm thankful for all that you do--for me, for yourselves--and it's really hard to be away from you, and to be away from this glorious, changing, challenging, mystifying and exhilirating process of breaking and exploding back together again. Always..like everyday...in big and little ways.

also, "everybody sees the wind blows" = transparency is love. !

Stage Lights, Please.

My creative talents and energies weren't going to use at my job so I decided to start an English theater troop with the older kids. Auditions begin in two weeks. With a group of about 5 selected kids, we'll be collaborating together to write a script and perform for the school! Weeeeee!

Woke up feelin the struggs

Sometimes, every day is a struggle in Spain. I guess that is often the fate of an ex-pat without a purpose, though.

"Purpose and love stick together"

But then after this mind-blowing sunset, maybe that'd be the struggle anywhere. Trudging through the mud of the unknown, going towards nothing, and something--that's the battle from anywhere. That's the battle for a lot of us right now, I think it's just added struggs when sparring from another country.

And maybe the struggle is the right thing.

s-NO!-w. (Yes)

I'm in the teacher's lounge at work because I'm snowed in in Huelma! I wish I had my camera here because it is so beautiful today. It's snowing so hard--I haven't seen snow like this in years. And there's thunder, too, which is crazy! The man who drives my carpool came bursting into my classroom today and told me we had to leave immediately. I think he wanted to try to beat the bad weather and the snow piling up on the roads. But, alas, we failed this mission as we came upon a stretch of road that we couldn't pass. We would have needed chains (which, silly man, he doesn't have even though he works in the mtns and drives there 5 days a week). So we turned around and it took us forever to get back because the entrance to the town was really backed up with traffic and stranded cars. Finally, we made it back to the colegio (the school where I work) and I'm here for another 15 until we "go eat" and then "see what happens". The good thing is that I have the choice of like 3630478 places to stay tonight and I can actually hang out with Adrian, the other auxiliar who works at the high school. He's totally cool and we never get the opportunity to spend time together. So this will be great!

Today, also, of course, I'm in the process of washing my coat so I don't have a good coat with me. Or a hat. Or water resistant shoes. In fact, I am wearing the worst shoes possible: the shoes with the most holes in them (note the use of the word 'most', which, yes, indicates that ALL of my shoes currently have holes in them. mierda. look u guys; i'm totally pobre!)

All the kids are leaving school. Parents are arriving in a straight stream to retreive their kids early and retreat into their homes. Half the people here are stressed today, and the other half have receded into laugh it off & celebrate it-mode. I'm joining the team of the latter. Adventure tiiiiiiiime :) !!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3

What's Going on in Granada? Post vacation reflection..

Dreaded update regarding Granadian life:

Dreaded, why? Because life here isnt yet. Don't feel alive in this space. After a long conversation with Daniel last night, things will be different. I came up with this really great idea to start an "idea map" because I'm always having ALL these ideas, ALL the time. Like ALL the time I can't stop. It's stuff like what I want to do in Granada, with my immediate future, long projects, carreer rumiations, small and big artist projects, books to read, fields to get into, new hobbies, people to connect with, places, life goals, etc. I'm always making these small little lists that are like do this do that, think about this think about that. Often just a bunch of stuff vomited onto my dry erase board that functions more as mind vomit than the attempted "calander" (which I can never keep). BUUUTTTT(!), since I am such a visual person (my mind works visually), I am going to make a MAP. A huge map that I'll put up on my wall and write in Pencil and I'll web it out, and connect and span and arrow and create and recognize, realize, come full circle maybe sometimes, and jump out on a ledge into nothingness and discover unknown universes sometimes. This map will be cool because it will be a central, eternal place where I can put all my ideas down and with the visual span, I can understand them, they'll have a relationship and logical birthplaces and I can reconnect them and see them in new ways in relation to the new things that come up. And I can see paths developing. I can maybe cross things out of I complete them, or highlight them if they are of utmost concern at the MOMENT, etc. I think it will be absolutely Fabulous. I'm thinking HUGE sheet of Butcher Paper on my wall. But, huge.
So I think you have the right to know, after my lengthy Paris rant, what the H I have been doing in Granada. Moving in. Getting settled. Understanding that their is ground beneth my feet. I know I don't want to be set still right now (which a L-I-F-E in a fixed place seems to effectively require), but I am, post-5am conversation with Daniel, thinking of Granada and this staple (as staple holding me down) as an opportunity to center on projects, namely Novel writing, writing in general (regular schedule and tangeable production), and my new idea to start a (much needed) visual and literary arts magazine in Granada [I know there is all this talent here that people keep inside of their houses. That is the nature of Granada. There is a lot of creative activity going on here, but unfortunately it is all just this festering stuff inside of peoples' personal walls--they come here to escape, so you get this. It's not like people are putting their shit out in the public up in front of peoples' faces, like they are in other (magestical) places like New York, or Berlin for example. Noone's trying to *Aspire, their just trying ta live. Daniel captured this essence of Granada well last night. He said people come here to this magical world so that they can just BE. They don't have to DO, they can be, in peace. I think this is a HUGE thing that bothers me about Granada that I can feel in between lines in a way that not a lot of other people can and therefore they can't understand my frustration (I can't talk to most people about this because they don't understand, it seems. I mean, you know. This language isn't one that most people are used to speaking. I'm just a freaaaaaak [F&Z, F&Z]).

I will most likely be moving residences (yes, hold your screams, friends. It's okay, I think) because functioning without the amenity of wireless internet is causing me more problems than I'd like to deal with at the moment. I think it will really make things so much more relaxed here if I can just used the internet at my friggin house and in the middle of the night at 4am if I'm thinking about someone or if I need to know how to say chilli in German or something. Seriously. I don't think I'm going to ship out to Huelma, even though I hope to get in as much traveling as possible, but I think with these new aspirations to do cool-er shit in Granada, I really need Granada as a resource. It's just energy-suicide to move out to Huelma, so I think that will be officially off my list.

Boy:
Although I meet like 032953845 people when I'm traveling, comradery in Granada is still wanting. Frreal I spend most of my time nowadays with this guy I'm dating, Daniel. I think there have been past blogs mentioning him (dont have internet right now so I can't check this, just have to speculate and will probably change this before I post it and after I check, but its more likely that I won't change it or even read over this part at all to know that I thought about changing it!). He's from Tel Aviv, Israel and has been living in Granada for 2 years. He's totally interesting, has lived all over (London, Canada, Buenos Aires) and traveled a ton. He grew up in Tel Aviv in a family of actors, but both his parents are Romanian so he A) Has EU citizenship, and B) speaks Hebrew, Romanian, Spanish & English all fluently, and a decent amount of French and Arabic. Right now he's in the process of getting an international art sales website up and running, a project he's working on with 2 other people in Granada where he is their PR-person. He makes electronic music and stays up late because he'll get overwhelmed with inspiration and I'll wake up and he'll have all this shit out in the room and notebooks just filled with stuff. He's Super into cognitive processes and modification. Like he meditates and will swear on breathing exercizes, and is always reading new things about Consciousness and alternate states of consciousness. And he writes scripts and screenplays and his grandmother is really old but still one of the most successful actors in Israel. He says that when the 3rd world war comes--and its going to come--we will be hugely responsible because we know it's going to come and what are we doing about it. He wants to help with crisis in Israel using his music, and he's super gorgeous with some of the most striking, beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen and he has one of the most beautiful cats in the world. He's totally crazy, thinks I am a fairy, and, as of two days ago has taken to calling me The Muse. Sounds cool, but still, I'm quite partially satisfied
Can we talk about his rooftop terrace and hammock, with views of snow-covered Sierra Nevada Mountains? Or maybe the fact that he has an actual, functioning fireplace in his living room? Yeah. Talk talk.

I need to make more money to be able to make more things happen and to not feel so stressed out by my absurdly tight budget. I have some ideas for this. Also, because I really *have to buy a bike and would like to buy a guitar (I'm really into solo singing with the guitar at the moment and I think I could do this. Just gotta start out with those callouses) and travel back to Paris and to Portugal and northern Africa and maybe to Amsterdam to visit a friend (Hi, Max!).

Can you have a Love Affair with a City? Well, I did.

Shag me at the top of the staircase, Paris.

Correct. I am in love.

Surely one’s experience of every place one visits is entirely dependent upon a myriad of things that have nothing, really, to do with the PLACE itself, but stuff like, where are with yourself in your life at that time, your health, who you’re with, the weather, your budget, your accommodations, who you meet there, how courageous/reserved you’re feeling, etcetc. Well I know that, and I’m sure that has affected a million places I’ve visited, but regardless of the reasons, and I think perhaps at any other time and in any other context, I still would have fallen head over heels for the place we call Paris.It's simply amazing, and especially for a literary nerd like myself, and especially for a sucker and lover and a kid who functions off of Beauty. The core essence from which Paris gets any of its inspiration to do anything, is beauty. If anything exists in Paris, it is beauty. It's like, Paris and Parisians understand that life is beautiful and creative and inspiring/inspired, so if anything were to ever come from Paris, it comes from
this, it operates off of this and this is its core. Things rarely exist only for their functional use, but they function and are interesting, beautiful, have character. I found this everywhere I went.

Lit nerds get Lucky:
Excellente legacy of writers just taking over this town, living here, visiting here, networking here, being inspired here and Paris as a subject. I visited Hemingway's old house, saw Voltaire's old writing desk, visited the Cafe where Hemingway often wrote (his favorite cafe) and where an epic argument between Tristan Tzara & Andre Breton aparrantly put an end to the Dada movement in Paris. The cafe itself was a hangout for the lits and the intellectuals in Paris. The coolest thing we encountered, though, was Shakespeare & Co.!!!!! This phenomenal old bookstore that's got a legendary presence in Paris and the Parisian lit scene. It used to function as a bookstore/semi-hostel for working writers. There are and were these couches throughout the store where you can read--like a library. The first floor of the bookhouse operates as a bookstore and upstairs is more like a library--nothing's for sale, but your are encouraged to hang out and read away. Here is where all of the couches are. During the peak years of Shakespeare and Co., all sorts of writers made traffic through the bookstore and took up temporary residence on a couch of sacred floor. Jack Kerouac used to crash there!! Now I think they still semi-operate in that way, although that's a little unclear. Upstairs there is a piano and a typewriter. Will obsessed over piano, and I over typewriter, hunched and clicking like the serious mad-woman that I am. Then I bought leaves of Grass (aaaaa) for 5 euro and ran into this woman who asked me what I was hacking away at madly at the typewriter. We chatted for a little and turns out she used to be a writer and used to sleep on the couches of the old place!! She met her husband here (who she was traveling with at the present moment) and eventually left because she became pregnant with her first kid (who, aparrantly, was almost born in the bookstore) and then named her 2nd or 3rd (dont remember) after a character from the first book she ever read at Shakespeare. Her whole family was with her at the time. They'd come back to visit during the holidays. She said it was very important to her that her kids knew the place because their own stories are so tied up with it. Also, I found out about a tea party going on at the apartment of the old owner, George, who is in his 80s or 90s (his daughter runs the shop now--see photo). The apartment is above the shop, and George is the founder of S & C, so he's been there through everything, which is amazing. He's got to be a phenomenal guy, but we didn't get to speak with him. Aparrantly, he's hard to come by nowadays, because he's in quite frail condition, but we were lucky enough to get to experience him breifly. When Will and I arrived at the tea party, George had just come in from an afternoon walk and was heading towards his room. Aparrantly, he's a really rare appearance nowadays and we were "lucky" to have gotten to be around George (even if just for a breif moment). The tea party was quite the fab event, hosted by this quirky British lovely maybe in her 50/60s. An artist (paint), poet, intellectual (she is currently writing a book about....ah....I think it falls under the subject of art history, but she spoke of her work literally in conversation with other philosophers [whos' names, of course, I don't remember..] and of the style of the work being something entirely new and different, breaking out of the mold of patriarchial, intellectual, historical structure. Cool!) named Panmelis, or Pamela LesChevin. In attendence were some old dudes from back in the day, frequenters of the S&C scene in the past, here on vacation and had decided to stop in at the old place and see what was up. There was this really obnoxiously NewYorkian NYer (Yale-educated!!! of course he let us know that) who spoke sooo NewYork-ey and was com*PLETEly oblivious to the fact that there were many people there who didn't speak English as their first language. And he kept looking everything up on his godawful iPhone (I hate when people use it that way--I mean literally it becomes a presence in a group. It's like their talking to *it so much or using it so much, that it could just be another person. I'd prefer to spend that time and energy on people in the precious moments when we are actually together like that. Anyway, rant!). He's a book collecter and has the largest collectiong of blahblah I dont remember. Finally, he *did manage to drop the names of all the Ivy league schools where his children are in attendence. AND he read an ODE off of his Iphone and recited a Shakespeare sonnet from memory (both,
way too fast) Then there was *John David Reagan, a really enthusiastic and long-winded Historian, who writes and goes to CRAZY CRAZY lengths to do research (he told us some epic stories...I love it) and works, actually, on the Alasking oil lines. He does his work for 6 months, saves up enough money, and then goes traveling and doing research and writing the rest of the time. He'd decided that he didn't want to get caught up in the backstabbing, throatclenching world of higher academia and all its naught politics, so, after attaining his PhD, he went to Alaska and continued on the work that he'd semi-sought ought to earn a couple bucks during college. Interesting life. He told me I should start writing for a magazine,journal,newspaper in Granada and that that'd be great for my resume. Word up, J.D. There was this Canadian-Asian dude named Alan who was just hilarious because he was always getting a little riled up about something. Like he was frustrated, or somebody didn't understand him correctly, or he
had some slight, quiet intellectual qualm with something someone else had said, but he kept getting sort of secretly, passiveaggressively frustrated, and you could tell that he left, feeling like he didn't get out what he needed to get out, and that he came just feeling frustrated, about himself and his life (he read a poem) and dammit he left the same way. Alan attempts writership but is very humble about it. There was this crazy old British dude who aparrantly had been a part of it for forever. I think he was a very well known British television personality for a while in the past, and an accomplished journalist. There was this adorable ethnically Morroccan, culturally Parisian girl named something like Patience or something like that who was just lovely and tender and intelligent and knowledgable. She, apparrantly, had been part of the club for awhile, growing up in Paris, but lately had been busy with University where she studies English literature. There were two Belgians who popped in late that spoke very little English, some wierd dude who showed up really late, some American and his cousin who stayed for maybe 15 mins (the real curious and interested American tourist types. Awesome.), an Italian physics professor (smart guy with an interest in a lot of different things--philos & lit knowledgable) and this cool Mexican law student in her lower 20s who'd spent a lot of time living abroad (used to live in Paris..was here visiting during her break) and currently attends school in the DF, which she likes (I asked her). She was a sweetheart. So the bunch was wonderful and an eclecticly hilarious mix, the tea was amazing, and the host so pleasant. She was so enthusiastic about art and literature and LIFE!!! So positive, just expounding beautiful, brilliant energy. JD invited me to a dinner party at some big deals house in Paris. It was to cost 35 Euro and all sorts of lit ppl would be there, publishers, editors, writers, and such, and it would be good for my networking purposed, but it A) was a little late to try to finagle a place in the table tonight, and B) I dont really think Will wanted to go--for 35 Euro, that is, but I really wanted to. I took it as my chance. But I got JD and the guy who runs the parties' info, so I will hopefully make it around for the next fiesta. Well, I mean, I must. This is one of the things that I will plan my next Paris visit around. That and a good reading at Shakespeare & Co and one of their writers' workshops. I am also looking into volunteering there in June (they have a festival or something going on) and trying to procure a job, maybe??...?? Needless to say, I will be back, and I will rage.

Walt Whitman was a genius.

Other highlights of Paris included the Couchsurfing Christmas party (complete with a Christmas kiss), the next day when I returned to the flat to retreive my umbrella/re-befriended the dude who threw the party. We hang for a little and then I asked him what would be great to do on a nice day in Paris and he drew my a hilarious map and then I asked his couchsurfer if she wanted to come along and then he realized that HE wanted to come along, too! We went on an amazing trek to the edges of Paris, in the tiny neighborhoods where Paris lives without the beast of tourism. It was quieter, liveable. We strolled around, and all in attendence ended up being totally fascinating. His couchsurfing was the cool cool chick from China who is studying in Sweden and currently hitchhiking around Europe (!!!--she has practice and has been 'training' with an experienced friend for awhile). Then Julien was amazing and him and I ended up talking for EVER..he wrote his first novel at 23(MY AGE!!), and has written 2 others. They were successes and at the begining of his life, therefore, he was rich. He started doing film and is currently a director, runs a production company with one of his roommates, who produces. He lives with a sculptor, dancer, actress and producer (did I get that right, Julien?). There place is PHENOMENAL. A really breathtaking old building of 4 floors with the most gorgeous detailed architecture and scaffolding(?) outside. Their bottom floor is a theater and the rest of the space is all living-working studios, which, of course, are always phenomenal. J told me I NEEDED to finish a book by the next time I saw him and gave me a link to check out his work. He led us to the BEST lookout point of Paris that could ever have existed and we happened to hit this point right as the sun began to set so we got to watch the most beautiful sunset in Paris from the best possible position in the city. It was phenomenal. Paris is SO beautiful in the sunset. Will and I were lucky enough to have seen the sun set almost every day during our trip. Then J took us all to this GORGOEUS park (but not until he'd first shown us the building he is going to buy with his good friend Keziah Jones [a ridiculously awesome musician...you should know him if you don't]--the site is this GORGEOUS old detailed whopper of a building. Totally beautiful and they want to turn it into a concert hall together) with all these hills, this beautiful citadel on top of the hill where you have, yet again, amazing views of the city (Here we saw a RAINBOW!!!). There was a semi-frozen lake that was just gorgeous and this suspension bridge hanging over the lake. Breathtaking, again. Then we strolled along the canal for awhile and ended up at Julien's
favorite coffee shop for warm drink. Then, we departed for the night was aging and we hadn't realized. That was my favorite day in Paris, just exploring the outsides and finding surprising treasures and confirming that every goddamn inch of that place is seeping with pure and honest beauty. Other cool things were the old, famous cemetary in Paris where all of these famous people are buried (Wilde, Proust, Jim Morrison, for example). The cemetary reminded me of a little town..all the graves and gravesites were so ornamental and involved and interested. The cemetary itself was just beautiful, even, and here, we watched the sun set, too. It was our first sunset in Paris. We also went to the Pompidou Modern Art Museum (which was RIGHT by where we stayed--AND we managed to get in for FREE, versus the 12 euro entry!!! Worked magic!!) [here, I spent a good 30 minutes in front of a video entitled Heartbeats. It was me and this one dude who sat the whole thing out], saw the Eiffel Tower light up at night, literally SPARKLE like 1000 diamonds. We walk out of the subway and all of a sudden it starts
glittering and we are awestruck. It is so beautiful. And we walk up to it and around it and there is this little park to the side of it where you can see the sparkling reflection in the water and ahhh. I didn't have my camera, though, so the only photographic capture I have of it is on my cell phone, unfortunately. Then we strolled along the Seine to make our way home, and randomly ran into gorgeous buildings and the Louvre. This entire night happened because we were supposed to go to a jazz show with a friend I made at the party, but the plans fell through so Will and I improvised.

Do you want to know where all the overalls in the world went? They went to Paris.

I also spent an hour in the tub after splitting a bottle of wine.

Unfortunately, I fell ill the day that William left so my last bit of time in Paris was greatly affected by a head cold, sore throat, and cold weather (not friends), but I was able to spend some time with Lucas (a friend I met in the mountains of India), Alyssa and her buddies (fellow auxuliar living in Granada), and forget my passport. ! Yes. I forgot my passport as I headed to Paris' Orly airport and eventually, missed my flight to Montpellier. It was kind of a mess, but I got it worked out and was able to land a spot on a flight the next day for a reasonable fee. Lucas came to my rescue that night and I met up with him and some friends at an Italian place and later crashed with him. Finally, I made it out to Montpellier, where my sickness kept gripping me ever-more tightly. It was great to see Emanuel, but unfortunately he was also under the weather during our first day together--some sort of stomache flu. I only got worse while he improved. Our first night we stayed with some couchsurfers who introduced us to fabulous french beer and an amazing french dinner which included the BEST bread of my life (olive bread that their friend brings to them from some place in france). The rest of Montpellier was honestly just me battling with this terrible cold, trying to stay warm, and spending time with E, Nick & his girlfriend Brooke in Nick's apartment, which the occassional trip around the city. This is nowhere *near my typical way of travel, but what with the cold weather and my unhealthy condition, I had no choice but to take it easy. I think they could have done the same things, though, even if I hadn't been sick... which is...well...not really my style, but hey! I am a little insane.

Begining and Ending Legs of my Trip: Yeah, because those are surely stories, too. So I told you about FRANCE (Some, not nearly all. All would take up too much of both of our time, but if you DO want more information, I have it!! email me for missing stories, etc. Ask me about baguettes, or french boys, etc), but what about what happened before I arrived there and after I left??? Well, I started my whole journey by taking a bus from Granada to Madrid, where I was to catch a flight to Paris. I'm chilling in the Madrid airport, people in my flight start lining up; I follow. They announce that our flight (like nearly every flight going anywhere cold that day) would be delayed. They told us to stay tuned to find out the gate assignment and departure time. I took a short nap then checked the screen, which said our flight was to depart from a gate at different part of the airport, and that it was to depart at 7. I go near to the new gate and sit with a coffee for awhile, writing away. Around 6 o'clock I go to check the screen again, just in case. I don't see my flight anywhere on the screen. I go to the information desk to ask what's going on and the guy tells me my flight just left 3 minutes ago. And I'm like WHAT. I was SO upset and felt so dumb and stupid like it was totally my fault and maybe i just read the screen wrong or something and I just felt awful. Especially since I know that RyanAir does NOTHING to help you in situations like this and that I would have to buy an entire new flight immediately out of pocket. I go downstairs and wait in the HOUR line to figure out what I am to do. I see another girl in line who seems to have a similar expression on her face and I ask her if she was going to Paris. "yes!", she says, freaking out. Turns out we had the exact same thing happen to us, along with two Brazilian girls further behind us in line. We eventually make our case and all get flights out the next day, but RyanAir refuses to pay for anything, like the hotel or transportation to and from the hotel, food, etc, which most airlines would do, seeing that the mix up was their fault. Bleh. Well, anyway, the girls and us ban together for awhile, the Brazilian girls trying to come up with some sort of plan, since their hotel in Paris was already paid for that night and they would now only have 2 days in Paris (at most) with this lost day. Eventually, Larissa (German girl living in Paris) decide to head out so that we can do something in Madrid that night, and we book it to the center of town where we grab a hostel and then head out for a drink (at this point it is quite late). We're strolling around town, looking for an enticing place to make an appearance, and, well, I have these street smarts and traveling intution (that perhaps I have developed over the years) and I know that you just don't talk loudly in English late at night when you're a traveler. You're just making yourself a vulnerable and a target, so I had my guard on when Larissa was yelling about. I felt this man walking behind us and I just didn't feel right about it. I had half a mind to stop and let him pass, and then explain to Larissa later, but didn't, just kept my guard up, very alert. All of a sudden, I feel him unzip my bag. I whipped around, pushed him, and started going off on him in Spanish. It came out of my so rapidly and fluidly, I didn't even know what I was saying, but I was totally telling him off as if I were native and he freaked out, because he thought we were just oblivious tourists, and eventually he goes "eres loca", and walks away, and then I yelled something at him as he left, but I don't remember what, but it was a shining moment. That's never happened to me before and I was totally impressed with myself by how I handled it. I was really aggressive and commanding, and my Spanish! My Spanish kicked ass and I freaked him out. // Well the next day we toured the city for a little, ran back to the airport, where we met two darling Italian girls on the Metro (who reminded us of the Brazlians and had nearly the same names--freaky twilight zone kinda shit) who we accidently lost. At the airport we met the Brazilian ladies, again. We all stuck together for awhile and then, guess what, the flight was delayed AGAIN. We were all 4 very cautious this time, making ABSOULTELY SURE that all of the information was right this time. Lounging around for awhile, I met Monique, this amazing little Santa Barbara-in with spunk and hilarity in tow. We had some laughs and whiled away the time pretty well. On the bus from the Beauvis airport to the metro station, her and I shared a good heart to heart convo. Everyone parted ways and I eventually found Augustin's flat where the magic began.The Return: Yeah so I'm taking a bus from Montpellier to Girona, which is the largest Spanish city north of Barcelona. It's in Catalunya. I took the bus there because that's where the RyanAir "Barcelona" airport is and that's where I'd be flying out. The bus arrived at 8pm and originally, my plan was to just crash in the airport for the night and catch my 7am flight bright and early. With my sickness, I rethought this idea, because roughing it just didn't seem like what the doctor ordered. Instead, I found a hostel in the city and crashed there for the evening, which would work out because there was an early bus to the airport in the morning. I walk into my hostel room and run into this kid who was on my bus. We decide to go out for a potential drink after he's done some stuff on the net. I go down to the common room, eat some cheese (though I can't really taste) and read sme F&Z. He is aparrantly done, come sits down next to me and asks what I'm reading. This begins the next 10 hours of amazingness. Andres was SO AWESOME. He's from Bogota, Columbia, studying Evolutionary Biology in Holland, is like THE best listener I have met in a hell of a long time, is totally intelligent and fascinating and his favorite book is The Unbearable Lightness of Being. He recommended all sorts of cool stuff to me and just came back from the Canary Islands. We talked about literature, religion, spirituality, childhood, evolution, hispanic culture and immgration, linguistics, etc etc. In the morning, we left for the airport together at quarter to 4 and hung out in the airport until his flight, playing madeup card games involving things like animal noises and hilariousness. He was one of the better folks I've met on the road. His English was nearly impeccible. I have a feeling I'll be seeing this kid again.

That "book" was Franny & Zooey ('book' is in quotes, because, ha!, it is totally not a 'book'. It
defies bookness and evolves into something else) which, YES!, I am currently re-reading. Oh how I love that book. Alex, you know you and mother are sort of reminding me of Zooey and Mrs. Glass. Think about it and be careful (I sound like Buddy here, do I??). I MISS YOU!

I've kept in touch with a fair amount of people from this trip and from Paris, which means,
undoubtably, I will be going back soon. There are some upcoming events at Shakespeare & Co that I'd like to attend/be a part of, and I now have all sort of people to crash with.