Monday morning: walking to the gym along the neighborhood's main drag, the local world a bit subdued, the transition to the new workweek still in progress. In front of a bank stands an intense-looking 30-something male. Quiet, mostly, though every ten or fifteen seconds he speaks. One sentence each time. Statements unrelated to anything I can see, but apparently meaningful to Mr. Intensity, and delivered with plenty of emotion. Not shouted, but spoken VERY, VERY LOUDLY.
Monday evening: standing in a crowded bus, moving through the rush-hour version of the city center. Along Gran Vía, the front of one of the movie theaters just past la Plaza de Callao is all lit up, a substantial crowd of people lined up beneath the marquee (plastered with mammoth images from the new Bond film). People with television cameras are scattered about, accompanied by techies holding flood lights. The film's local premiere, apparently, the place lit up like a Christmas tree, the crowd apparently waiting for the latest 007 to show (that evening's news showed a clip of himself, sporting a crisp tuxedo, waving to onlookers from the red carpet that spanned the short distance from the curb to the theater's entrance). On a Monday night, mind you. Bet London and New York got weekend premieres.
Yesterday morning: gray, cloudy, the overcast showing jagged tears above the eastern horizon, through which brilliant red sky shone. I remained at home through of the day, spending far too much time online snooping around for homework help. Now and then I'd pull on street clothes, head out for some air. Feeling at those moments like I'd stepped from a black and white picture into technicolor -- movement, odors, sounds, the full spectrum of shades and hues. Like stepping from 2-D into 3-D.
Yesterday evening: class -- an hour and a half of being beaten around the face and neck with the subjunctive verb form, among other items. Then a fast trip home, me bolting as soon as class finished, turning on the TV as soon as I stepped in the door, throwing myself into a chair for what remained of last night's Champion's League game, Real Madrid clawing its way back from a 2-0 deficit against a strong Olympique Lyonnais. Final score: 2-2.
Now that's entertainment.
España, te quiero.
rws 8:25 AM [+]
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