Spent Thursday evening in the company of a Spanish woman, E. Smart, interesting, attractive, with a great laugh. Kind and patient when it came to my Spanish. Got me feeling like I could actually speak the language. Which, in a one-on-one situation like that with a supportive person, I maybe can.
Saturday night: spent about the same amount of time with three Spanish friends, sitting at an outside table in la Plaza 2 de Mayo. People I know better than E., folks I've spent time with before. It's a whole different thing, though, plugging into the conversation of several individuals speaking at high velocity. After an hour, hour and a half, my teeny brain simply began to shut down, I started feeling the need to go home, crawl under the covers, curl up into fetal position and sleep for a few days. When my companions decided to drift toward another part of the city to check out a Ramones tribute band, I headed home. Walking through streets clogged with Saturday night partyers, plenty of noise, plenty of activity, the being here continuing to feel a touch unreal.
I spent the last two months in Vermont in work mode. The days shot by, packed with things to be done, the nights featured inconsistent sleep patterns. Since arriving here, my adorable bod has been wanting sleep and more sleep, maybe sensing the opportunity to finally settle life down a bit -- I'm trying to listen. The impulse is to stay up real damn late like the rest of the local world, which throws a monkey wrench into catching up on sleep -- I'm beginning to make a serious effort to tuck myself into bed at a wholesome hour. Has me feeling like a bit of a weeny, but seems to be paying off as far as feeling more rested.
And after months and months of persistent drought, rain has begun falling around Spain. The daily papers show a chart depicting the water reserves, everyone's watched them drop steadily down into the 35% range, the government beginning to hint nervously at the possible necessity of steps in the direction of conservation. Light rain began falling yesterday evening here in Madrid, fell more heavily on and off into the night. More is supposed to come down around the country over the next couple of days. The days here since my return have remained warm, feeling like an extension of Vermont's strangely extended summer. The local weather types claim that with the changing conditions the temperature will be dropping. Time will tell.
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Seen over the weekend in the city center, just off la Calle de Montera (a concentration point of prostituion): three policemen standing around a man and woman. The man: a bit rumpled, holding a beer, looking like he couldn't understand how he'd gotten himself into the situation. The woman: attractive, nicely dressed and made up, and, once I'd gotten close enough to hear her voice, clearly male. As I passed by, she said to the man, her index finger waving in the air as she spoke, "No, guapo. No, no. No me quedo por 30 euros." ("No, handsome. No, no. I don't stay for 30 euros.")
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Sunday morning, la Plaza de Chueca, Madrid:
Graffiti seen along la Calle del Almirante, Madrid ("peatón" = pedestrian; the word for "pawn," as in the chess pawn next to the word 'peatón,' is peón. the connection? got me):
Madrid, te quiero.
rws 6:39 AM [+]
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