Who are you...?

Who. Who. Who. Who.

I really wanna know.

When we are little, we have a sense of self. We grandly declare our names, our age, and all we know, as well as all we don't (Why is the sky blue?).

We say things without thinking.

We go outside and discover. We observe, absorb, digest, and apply.

Creatures of novelty.

Then, novelty is hardened. We are forming. We gain consciousness. Aka: self-awareness. Aka: fear.

We place importance on individuality, yet, we are preoccupied with what others will think of us.

We go to college to spread our wings and repeat the process of "observe, absorb, digest, and apply." But, no longer is this learning process a novelty. At this point, it is an institutionalized cage that spins around like a carousel. Cyclical. Redundant.

We lose interest and start focusing on the form, instead of the content.

The content becomes a means to an end. Let's just get through these four years.

At the beginning, it's: "Let's make the best of them!"

Somewhere in the middle it becomes: "Am I done yet? I just want to graduate."

And when it comes time: "Holy ish. What am I gonna do with my life? Am I ready?"

Our curiosity has been dulled by the redundancy of form. Desk, teacher, lecture, homework, project, essay, exam, grade, importance, pressure, competition, scores, universities, money, acceptance letters, dorm room, new people, new place, new teachers, drinking, parties, finals, winter break, winter, spring break, summer, internships, in-between jobs, majors, minors, studying abroad....

All these words describe the mindless process we go through. The process that has ingrained us to behave numbly. To participate, but, to not stop and take the time to enjoy, to process, to relish.

There is a part of who I am that will never grow up. I am a big kid. But a big kid that loves being surrounded by the keen minds of children.

Children...
That smile at a hug. That celebrate over a single question answered correctly. That chase butterflies. That take long bubble baths. That create highly developed situations and become their idealized characters (Let's play hot lava! Let's play house! Let's play!)

Somewhere along the way we lose that... and become numb to the notion that we had ever lost anything at all.

I am an experiential learner... Unfortunately, I learn through action. I am visual. If I am told something in a monotone format, you lose me. I fly into my land of imagination.

Becoming a teacher has been complicated... I am still trying to figure out what it means. Next to parents, I think these people are the most important in our lives... but, in a institutionalized format, where I'm powerless and have twenty minutes to influence my ripe youngsters, I am placed between a rock and a hard place. Their is little wiggle room to expand and influence.

My compañeros choose to believe that I don't like teaching... I miss my family... The pueblo is too small...I want to go back.

They would be right.

Because that is why children know who they are...

They are ignorant. They look in the mirror and see themselves. They don't see potential-- a future stockbroker, a future mother, a future race car driver... They see themselves as they are.

So, when my co-workers take a look at me... they see me through a worldview specifically their own. Compared to what they know through the movies and the other auxiliaries that have come and gone. These auxiliaries came, maybe found a boyfriend and stayed, or maybe had a master's education to fulfill.

Whereas, "I have no plans," I say.

Well if she has no plans, she must not like it here... She can't live in a place like this cause she's from California where it's big and sunny and different...

They would be right again.

I'm not pretentious.

However, I am from one of the most modernized places on Earth. I had a computer when I was 5 years old. I went to Disneyland for the first time when I was 1 year old. I played three sports until I had to choose one. I took singing lessons. I was in advanced level classes. I played outside. I had the ideal childhood, made my own choices (within limitations), and was always taught to be my own person. This environment is where I come from and, therefore, who I am.

So, then I come here, to all that I've never had. I run in the fields. I pick the oranges. I buy fruit, day of, fresh from the farm, bread, day of, fresh from the bakery, jamon, stripped off the leg. I walk to my place of work. I eat lunch at 2:30pm in my house. I eat Spanish food. I speak Spanish...

And now, with the opportunity to stay or leave, I have chosen to leave.

Not just because I miss my family, yada yada yada... Not because I don't like it here... yada yada yada...

It's because I am an experimental learner. Although I am here to teach, I came to learn. I came to escape all that I knew. I was numbed by the redundant cycle of American culture. So, I took a break. I wanted to cross some things off my bucket list... I wanted to see the world through my own eyes. I didn't want to sit in a five-star hotel and be chauffeured. I didn't want to go with other Americans.

So, I didn't

And, now it is time to leave... And that's okay with me. I used to let what others say affect me... I used to cut all my hair off to prove a point.. (haha, Sorry, it still makes me laugh.)

I have learned that I'm not meant to be any other place in the world, but the place that I carry with me in my heart and flows through my veins. The people that have influenced me and the dream that I always imagined as I looked in the mirror as a young girl--the emotions I wore on my sleeve, the attention I always craved, the laughs I always sought, and the craziness that always ensued.

I know that will always have a home in Spain. I have connected with numerous people: Jose Angel, Sete, Mati, Paco, Paco, Gema, Laura, Marta, Nacyra, Belen, Eli, Alberto, Jesus, Antonio, Jose Luis, Pepe, Fau, Farisa, Carmen, Maricarmen, Nuria, Inma, etc. etc.

Dear Spain,
You have made a lasting impression upon my life.
Made me a better person...I feel like a kid again.

So,

Go explore. Go outside and take a hike. Turn off Facebook. Turn off your phone. (Put it on airplane mode). Go to a yoga class instead of spinning. Talk to someone new in a bar. Go to a different bar (for starters...) Cut your hair... whatever you can do that you've always wanted to! You can do it. Stop disagreeing with yourself...you'll only hate yourself more later.

All that you want

Is all that you can have.

Though I may have been removed from all that is familiar, safe, easy to understand (on the most basic level of a mutual language)...

It's a beautiful thing.

"Cur, tu puedes ayudarme con mi carta... mi cohvair letair..?"

"Claro! Mandámelo!"

The next day...

"Cur, gracias por tu ayuda! Gracias! Si tu quieres, mi padre ha cocinado pescado frito y va a cocinar caracoles! Ven! Ven, guapa!"

"Vale, venga! Estaré allí!"

Friend (n.): A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts (Friend)

Amigo (n.): Aquel individuo con el cual se mantiene un amistad (Amigo)

These are just words that describe other words...I've never had a friend that I can put into words nor limit to words.

So, this won't do. Think of it as a translation of my Spanish experiences that truly are unique and personal.

I met this girl through a friend here in the pueblo. These friendships are like the ones I have back at home... the ones that began in elementary school and have lasted through thick and thin...

Immediately, my name was "Cur..." not "Court..." Immediately, I was myself as my friends from home know me... Court. OK, you are on the team, new friend.

Every bone in her body yearns for what lies outside the South of Spain. She is an energy commander and attention grabber. Her friends joke about her faults and her habits...but, it's because she is that person that you want to be... that you look at and think, "Man, how much fun it would be if I could be like that..."

So, she asked me if I could read her Cover Letter for an internship program abroad.

CLAROOO.

Then, her lovely family invited me over for a "mellow" Sunday afternoon lunch.

As I walk in, almost immediately, the "hijas" are flowing from her mother's mouth quickly followed by, "what do you want to drink," as she hugs her large goblet of tinto de verano...

The same would be lovely.

They just finished landscaping their backyard... I get the tour.

I joke that it's the never-ending house... it's not a piso...it's a palacio.

Her piso is connected to that of her grandmother's, in case of an emergency, and to her mother's medical clinic below their piso. Además, they have constructed a mini-haven in their backyard complete with a wood oven, a game room, a dining room, a bathroom, and two or three standing bars...

You would think that being removed from California, especially Southern California, that I wouldn't be placed in a place so familiar and safe within a pueblo in the South of Spain. I never had these material luxuries that I could look forward to and share with humility, but, I was always lucky enough to be invited to luxurize with those friends of mine.

We sit down for lunch and begin with caracoles...snails. Yes...Snails. Like the ones you stepped upon when you were kid as they were slowly eeking across your front yard. Yeah, little attenas and slightly opened mouths and all...

All eyes on me. My primera vez...and they are all waiting for the verdict. Proud of their unique Spanish cuisine.

After about three, I retired my bowl. They don't taste like anything... and I attempt to explain, it's not that they're not "good," it's just I way rather eat from the heaping bowls of artichokes, octopus with potatoes, or three types of fried fish...

Do you want anything else to drink?

Do you like your food? Less talking! More eating!

Again, I attempt to explain that I prefer to eat slowly... Again, another trait that is lost in translation/custom...whatever it may be.

But, here's the thing: I got to be someone's daughter again...

I spend a lot of time with families here...but they are younger... I am an adult; I'm not a child nor could ever be a child that lives in another country abroad...for my mother, it's 12-hours in plane abroad...That exotic place called "Spain..."

After, my two glasses of wine (politely pressured by her mother...as a good Spanish mother should do), we begin to eat our dessert and drink our coffee...which led to margaritas and conversation. We talk about my job, customs here in Spain, and finish with how I went to a private school--a mutual characteristic that my friend and her boyfriend (who is present as well) also share.

It's funny, ain't it?

People are people...human beings. We have the same parts, capabilities, emotions...But, if we don't talk, it's because we don't share interests...or maybe, just maybe, one another's language. Expand with someone who you don't know, share, and explore, and you find that you have a lot more in common than you originally thought.

My friend is in this awesome place full of potential and hope. She finishes her degree in 3 months and all she can think about is living abroad and speaking English---London would be ideal and I pray she gets to do exactly what I'm doing here.

She confesses to me how hard it is to explain what she wants... but, I look at her and convince her that I completely understand...

Since September 2012, I have been through Spain, France, Germany, Holland, Belgium, Portugal, England, and Italy... That's 8 countries in almost 7 months. I never imagined this for myself. I never imagined myself sitting in my friend's house with her parents and boyfriend talking about anything and everything in Spanish, eating octopus, drinking margaritas from martini glasses, and sharing a similar background that extends and translates across language and cultural borders.

The more time I spend here, I realize that all of it is ending. No, I won't be here during the summer, and maybe, I'll have the opportunity to do it all again next year. But, I still don't know if I want to. All that I have right now is novel...raw...virgin. The experience is ripe and impressionable because I have never done it before.

But, even if I don't come back, I'm not worried because I have made friends for life. They have made me a part of their world without hesitation, doubt, or worry. So, when I say I'm in a familiar environment of privilege, private education, and security...I am, but not completely. The part that is unique to here is the warmth. The warmth of knowing someone immediately without knowing them and trusting in the goodness of the person. This is why I came to Spain and this is why I will miss it all the more.

Feedback

New thing.

When I'm not gettin' all emotional, existential, philosophical, symbolic, annoying, etc. etc., I'm going to post things I find that I like...

bbeeeccaaauuuseee

It's fun to do.

So, first, get nostalgic with this: Easter bunnies* (courtesy of: YouTube user gemtracker)

It's only 7 minutes and you feel like that little kid again...hunting for easter eggs, being pampered and primped in an ostentatious sundress and hat that made you look 40 years old at age 3....

Thanks, mom.

Also, a song...

Because music brightens a day...

To begin, a favorite of mine right now from Rapture: How Deep is Your Love** (courtesy of: YouTube user Noisey)

And, finally, words of inspiration:

Keep it simple.

Worrying about the future limits us to relish what lay in front of us.

Live in the now.


Where I was a year ago....

Cancun, Spring Break

Easter with family

Where I am now...

New traditions

New friends

New food

New students/pets (note: fabrication of material)

New scenery

Something beautiful...

absimado: part 2

I wasn't intending on writing part two this way...However, unforeseen forces beyond my control have influenced me to write the following.

Abismado (definition): "to be amazed; to be astonished"

I recently read this word in a book, "El Principito" (being read in Spanish). I fell in love...

I asked one of my students about the word. This particular student and I have 2 hour long conversations every Thursday night, whether we want to or not. We have discussed everything from religion, to marriage, to dreams, regrets, love, practicality, etc. He is my lifeline when I feel the abandonment of being an expat in the pueblo.

He first was abismado himself that I knew the word...And didn't know how to explain it to me in English. (Courtney--1, Spain--0) I threw out some synonyms I had found, and he agreed, but still struggled to accept the synonyms as the only way to explain the significance of the word.

This reminded me of another Spanish word I had learned almost 9 months ago that increased my love and anticipation for the Spanish culture and people...duende.

This whole past weekend I was overcome with emotion--abismado.

First of all, I was in Rome.

Back up, back up.

If you have been fortunate enough to go to Rome, you know that:

a) it wasn't built in a day

AND

b) when in Rome...

So, for me a) signifies that it shouldn't be SEEN in a day, nor two and b) eat and drink until you can't walk, ONLY AFTER having been overwhelmed by the history and culture that still stands, rooted, surrounding you.

I felt unbelievably fortunate to know the people I know...always have and always will. One of my friends from my internship program, two summers ago, is a Roman and hosted me for two nights. He even took me on an authentic tour and did the touristy things that he has been asked to do about a 1094290812 times. Unfortunately, for me, in preparation for the conclave, the Vatican and Sistine Chapel were closed to the public. Now i have an excuse to return and be overwhelmed in new and exciting ways that are beyond my comprehension.

Bernini, the Italian architect who built St. Peter's Square wanted the feeling of shock and awe (abismado) to fall upon the people as they enter the marble pillars. What lies within--the holiest of holies.

That he did.

So, let's connect that past with this present. Here I am in the origin of the organized world as we know it. And of course, I have to flash it on Facebook.

HELLOOO WORLLD. I'M AT THIS FAMOUS PLACE CALLED THE TREVI FOUNTAIN AND I THREW THAT COIN INTO THAT WATER. HOLLERR ATTCHHYOO GURRRL.

Pathetic like-count.. Poor showing...But, who happens to message me? One of the religion teachers from my high school. Slightly rando, but, pleasantly surprising.

After patience and planning, we finally reunited and had a walk through the St. Peter's Square at night...dark, glorious, and almost completely empty. This teacher proceeded to reveal three things:

1) This is his first trip alone.

2) He is here representing the American Catholic Church. So, Hey! Media hub! Put me on TV!

3) He prays the conclave has a decision by Tuesday because his flight leaves early Wednesday morning.

We had a two-hour rendezvous and, then, I had my flight to prepare for, which required arising at a painfully early 4am.

The next day, depressed by my Facebook like-count, I mustered up the strength to log back in. What is the first thing I saw?

A picture of my teacher on international television beings interviewed as a representative of the American Catholic Society in Italy.

Wait...wait...what?!?!

He did it.

Abismado.

Then, I log in about five hours later. And he has a new status.

I'm thinkin'... "Who is THIS guy? Another new status?!"



His status read: "Change of Plans!! Rimango!! British Airways changed my flight to tomorrow! I'm staying one more day, 4 more votes. The Holy Spirit may not have led the Cardinals to a Pope but did in fact keep me here one more day!"


Okay. I'm officially abismado.


After explaining all this to one of my Spanish classes (a fruitless endeavor that was completely lost in translation), I was hustling to my next class at the hotel. As I walked in, just after having explained all of this abismado business, the revelation of the pope was on television in the bar. Taken aback is an understatement. I felt full. Just like I felt when I entered St. Peter's basilica and the other sights of St. Peter's Square.


Thoughts running through my head couldn't be processed and were derived as overwhelming feelings rather than coherent logic.


I was just there...


My teacher's there right now...


This is history...


Something is about to change in the world...


Having faith goes hand in hand with knowing who you are. If you have good energy and believe, good things happen. My teacher believes and lived it...

abismado: part I

This is going to be about a three part entry.
I've been floating around for quite some time.
And this dark cloud of my blog hangs over my head...
Not as a burden, but as a necessity.

I relish in recounting my experiences abroad. I relive them every time.

But, first, more of a spiritual, diary entry.

What is the most important thing in the world?

Is it living your dream? Is it being successful? Is it being happy? Where do all these things come from? How can you avoid grief, suffering, misery, depression, anxiety, pressure, temptation...?

I watch the series "Girls."

I hate/love it.

I want to punch Marnie in the face. I think Hannah is excessively excessive. I love Charlie--he is conflicted and hurt, but, plays it off like he isn't--the male silent restraint is perfect. Shosh is amazing--because she is real. In real life, her character exists and is just as caring and naiive as she is portrayed. Jessa is that person we all wish we could be--flighty, apathetic, hippy.

But, that's "girls."

We get hurt, we freak out, and don't know what the world is trying to tell us.

What is important to them in the show? Boys, money, a job, school...?

No.

Those are the physical representations of obstacles that pose emotional and internal conflict that we mentally and emotionally negotiate, daily, inorder to be able to wake-up and take on the day.

I've never had that group of "girls"-- four people in the same place at the same time. I love how it is romanticized. I love how it is in NYC. I love how it is a self-referential critique to "Sex and the City." It's an almost-homage as to say, "who they were before they got rich, sexy, and thirty..."

What do they have in "Sex and the City" that they don't in "Girls"...?

Financial stability.

That golden wheel that churns and produces energy, confidence, and profit.

But, is that what they are looking for in the show? Their golden nugget?

Yes. However, I think Lena Dunham wants to refer to control. When you lose control of your life, you feel like everything is falling and there is nothing you can do to stop it. So, you perpetuate your own downfall because you feel bad for yourself. So, you do things and make excuses for what you have done, in the extreme. Such as Marnie, who sings a horrendously embarrassing version of Kanye West's "Stronger" at her ex-boyfriend's work party that she inadvertently invited herself to. When confronted by her ex, Charlie, he tells her she is totally wacked. But, she is quick to defend. She says she is happier then she's ever been and that happy people don't have hard times. She is just kinda waiting...They are ALL just kinda waiting.  

This is why I love Lena Dunham.

Unless you have not lived this and are not striving for more or looking for answers in any and all aspects of your life, you miss it.

Which would mean, we all should get what she is eloquently saying without actually having the characters say it.

I have lost control of my life before. Lost perspective... Got my nose pierced...Cut my hair...Believed I was in love...

We can convince ourselves of almost anything when we try hard enough. (Thank God I know Gandalf is real, otherwise, I would believe I was actually him in the flesh).

What I believe is the most important thing in life is knowing who you are and being secure in that. If you know who you are, or have a foundation of who that person is, you always have a landmark to return to. It's very easy to get lost, run off track, and not be able to find your way back.

And the only way to remember who you used to be and still are is to do what you really want--living your dream.

So, I guess it is all a chain, cause/effect thingamajig. If you know who you are and do what you want, then, you will be happy. And if you are happy and positive, good things happen. The universe is balanced...

Just ask science.

The Earth rotates around the Sun while the Moon rotates around the Earth...

The Earth is the only known place with life....

So, live it and take advantage of this privilege we have been given.

Cause you only get one chance.

Be weird...It's way more FUN

Women may travel

"Where are you going this weekend, Courtney?" They ask me.

"Barcelona!!!" I reply, utmost eagerly, as the words barely make it through the teeth of my wide grin.

"Oh, it's beautiful! Who are you going with?"

"Welp, with myself..."

*Noted silence*

We can vote. We can own property. We can drive. We can do all of this alone. Surely we can travel, right?

To the grand majority of whom I share my decision to travel alone with, it is almost as if I'm disrespecting God and defying all natural laws simultaneously. I'm a bird, and birds fly, therefore I will fly.

"Watch out! There are clouds in the sky! And sometimes, ya know, it rains. Or, oh my god, what if it snows?! Be careful! Especially if it snows. And when you're flying, make sure you don't hit any other birds. And watch out for trees. And never, I mean never, fly into an already formed "V" formation. Don't provoke trouble, you hen."

I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. I have done this before. I prefer to travel alone. I prefer to know a city on my own terms. I prefer to make new relationships if the situation allows it.

This is living. I leave for my Barcelona excursion in 1 hour. I will return for 1.5 days, then, Wednesday night, I head off on the night bus to Portugal for 5 days. I'm back for 4, then head off to Rome. Then, I'm back for a weekend, before heading off to London and Seville for ten days with my best friend. (See, I travel with people. You just need to apply.)

Why do I do it?
Many reasons. Mostly because it is the most exhilarating thing I've found in my life. My travel virginity was taken less than a year ago. I'm still on my "first-time" high. I'm riding the euphoric wave and doing it as many times I can while my position allows it (aka living in Europe). I secretly love getting off the airplane, not knowing where I am, nor what language I'm supposed to be reading/understanding. Then, I gotta figure out how to get there (wherever it may be that I'm going-- a couch or a hostel). Bus or metro in rain or at night, in the cold, with an oversized bag and an oversized coat.

"Be sure those birds don't steal your eggs from your nest!" They repeatedly tell me.

So, I always move rather slowly and have my head on a swivel in either direction. Then, I step outside, and I see new things, new people, feel new energy, hear new sounds. All senses are heightened and stimulated for the next 2 to 3 days. Madre mia. I'm so glad I left the virgin world behind.

Time to walk, eat, see, breathe. I've found my preferred way to learn about the world. Before there was all this greed and power over money and people, there were just people. There was just land. It's raw, it's natural. To move and eat and see how other people "live in their natural habitat" I live so much in the present when I travel. I take it all in. I never want to forget the moment. There isn't confinement to a desk, computer, car, city, alter cellular world. I come and go as I please. I have freedom.

"But, other birds may want to bite you or follow you to your nest."

Yeah, true. But, I wouldn't be me if I didn't walk around yelling all the time. I wouldn't be me if I didn't talk in weird voices. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't adventurous. So, I do it.

Forewarned: proceed with caution.

I've been advised and now readminister the provision: when with me, just proceed. Caution is logic and instinct. Do what makes you feel happy and leave the rest behind.

With love.

Courtney style

Giving back

I need to give back...which actually means I need to stop reading food blogs...
because then I just think about how hungry I am... which, most often, I'm not... I'm just really good at convincing myself.

Lately, I've been enjoying the easy, slow life.

Every day, I wake up between the hours of 7:30 and 8:30.

This is a lie.

I wake up on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday at these hours.

Then, I decide...

make tea, fresh squeeze orange juice, and a bowl of cereal

OR

walk the 100 yards to the hotel next to my house, eat a large piece of tostada, a steaming, creamy cup of frothy coffee and milk, with fresh squeezed glass of orange juice...all for 1,90 euros...

Friday...this is guaranteed. The rest of the week, I attempt to eat in.

Then, off to class. A bop in and through my classes for three hours. The time flies. Today, one of my first graders, during the middle of class, decided to leave his seat, come up to the front of class while I was writing on the board, and taps me on the leg. I turn around to see little Benedicto, whose head reaches my waist, "No puedo ver," with a surly look on his face. The teacher's laughing in the background at his commentary, to which I respond, "Lo siento, hombrito."

The little boy couldn't see. So, the obvious option was to leave his seat to tell me he couldn't see during the lesson.

DUH.

Days like these, I swim in the happiness, joy, and lightness of my day. It's easy to be positive among smiling, joyous faces that scream your name as you pass by... as I think, "I'm still that cool to them?! Go me!" The teachers understand me and I understand them... There are mutual joking seshes in Spanish... All of this comes and goes. The days repeat.

I walk the 5 minutes to my house and decide what to make...I made tortilla española on Monday. A process that consists of frying sliced potatoes in olive oil for 30 minutes. Add it to scrambled egg batter and cook. It's delish.

I have ground turkey, gnocchi, and zucchini waiting for me for tomorrow with a homemade tomato sauce. I eat for an hour.

Yes, I eat like an 80 year old woman. But, an 80 year old woman only eats pudding...and maybe a banana... in an hour. Due to gravity or something...The older you get, your body shrinks, and all the weight goes to your head...you get tired and eating gets harder because you have to hold up your head and open your mouth at the same time...That's why they sleep so much.

So, then I take a nap...echo una siesta...

Isn't that what you do?

Then, ughh, I have to get up. I turn off the brassero. This contraption that the Spanish invented AFTER they decided to stop doing cool shit once they had discovered the New World. Spain's history in American history book consists of Columbus and Franco... Next to be added this brassero thingamajig.

So, you sit down. There's a long tablecloth encompassing the length of the circular table (or rectangular...) Underneath, there's a heater with another silver cone contraption so you can't put your feet in. There are two settings: hot and hotter. This thing is God's only gift to Andalusia. They have extremely long, sweltering summers when the only thing that keeps them alive are their siestas. Therefore, the houses are built to keep out the heat. Sun rays, beams, lasers...NOTHING that could possibly keep a human warm should enter.

Speaking from experience. I can tell you...it doesn't.

I reluctantly leave my man-made heating experience, unplug it, as not to set the house on fire, and go out into the day--ray, shine, wind. I walk for four hours.

I walk to a house. Stop. Stay an hour. Try and convince their child that English is important. They ask me to play a game. I ask them if they know what "Can you speak English means?" They say, "Comó?" I respond, "Exactly." They repeat, "Comó?" with a condescending look of confusion on their faces (how a 9-year old can look so condescending when so confused is beyond me...these kids take after their parents in so many ways...) So, I repeat this process for another three houses. Four hours can fly or can crawl.

The days when it crawled, my Spanish was horrible, I wasn't used to the cold, and I found more refuge in a cold beer with "friends," who would put up with my broken Spanish because... well, I still don't really know why.

Now, three months later, I find refuge in my space. I'm comfortable here. I have my friends. I enjoy my life. But, I have been sick for the past months...First, with the flu...Five days in bed...Now, congested without much motivation to go out. I just keep thinking how little time I have left and about all of the vacations I am about to embark upon...Barcelona, Portugal, Rome, London... all in the next month!?

Then, I thank the universe for all of my blessings. I comment upon my experiences here because I believe that life is short... It passes us by. We regret not doing things. We place importance on the future--on money, on a house, a car, etc. But, we don't enjoy. We don't salvage. We don't experience. On Saturday, I spent 8 hours in the forest, camping. Then, Carnaval on Sunday dressing up as "cine negro." Friends and family are pillars. They are our support system. When one falls, it is the other's job to reinforce the foundation that the other has established.

Give and take. Wholly and equally.

Love today.