It's a strange existence, this life of mine.
For instance, this morning I found myself working out in a gym in the Spanish capital city, in an old, busy barrio that's in the middle of a long period of transformation, construction and rehab going on everywhere -- it would not be a stretch to say that there's work of some kind happening at some point along every single block of the neighborhood. Been that way for three or four years now. I've never seen anything like it.
The gym: not as good a facility as one I used to go to here, but less of a shlep -- a five-minute walk as opposed to 20-30 minute Metro ride/post-Metro hike. Clientele mostly gay, techno playing constantly on the sound system, German television programming (sound off) showing on three wall-mounted TV's. Dragged myself out of bed at far too reasonable an hour this morning, pulled on gym gear, dragged my adorable butt out the door. Shortly thereafter, found myself doing the sweaty activity thing, everyone else in the place male (DC, not AC) except the 20-something woman behind the desk. Feeling a bit the way I sometimes feel in this life of mine: like I'm not exactly of the element around me, not sure where exactly I belong.
Got together Friday evening with a Spanish friend I hadn't seen in nearly a year, meeting up in a far too trendy café. Good guy. Local newscaster. Loves what he does, is good at it. Every time we get together I learn stuff I would never otherwise have known about national or local politics (topics I generally try to ignore), about the Spanish royal family, about Spanish television. The
Saturday: met up with another Spanish friend I hadn't seen in nearly a year. A 20-something woman, back from finishing graduate studies at Stanford in California. About to pick up and live in Australia for two or three years, the company she's working for giving her the opportunity. Great person. Smart, capable, sunny personality. On hearing about all this, my profesora in class today gave me the big nudge-nudge smile, would have given me an elbow in the ribs if she'd been close enough. In response, I explained that I'm not in the market for someone twenty or more years my junior, not looking for a daughter. Not sure she believed me. Hard to tell with her sometimes. Ah, well.
It's Monday. The day is overcast and cool, light rain falls now and then. Outside, life goes on in the barrio, the weekday variety, lots of people around. Sounds of rehab. work erupts now and then -- hammer drills, workers calling out.
I've got classwork to do. Time to go do it.
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Saturday, along Gran Vía, Madrid:
Madrid, te quiero.
rws 8:18 AM [+]
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