2005-10-11 - 5:53 p.m.
Ahhh..it's raining. Oh beautiful, beautiful rain. I missed it. Not rain like those storms we were getting a month or two ago...but just rain, without the thunder and lightning and wind. And more than a drizzle. I am Michigan, through and through. It's a good thing I never bashed Michigan like I bash Spain...because I'd be eating my words right now. I love Michigan. I've always loved Michigan. Even that word, Michigan, seems beautiful to me right now. What a lovely name.
I went to the gym today. I am beginning to suspect that my misery here is compounded because I am so visibly NOT a Spanish person. I mean...when I walk on the beach I walk fast and keep to myself...Spanish people meander and talk to everyone. I mean...I talk to myself...a lot...I have never heard Spanish people talking to themselves, they are always talking to everyone else. And...I mean...that at the gym I always have to occupy myself while working out. I have a book to read on the bike, I have my CD player plugged into my head when I am on the treadmill and I whiz through my weight routine, jumping all over the place because my attention span can't tolerate leisure or patience. The Spanish people...well, if they aren't talking to one another on the bikes or treadmills, they are staring blankly in front of them. HOW CAN YOU DO THAT??? HOW??? I am the only one, THE ONLY ONE (unless Eric is there with his Cd player plugged into his head) that ever has occupation when I am working out. I have yet to see a book, a magazine, a CD player in the hands of anyone other than myself and my American husband. Is this, other than my thighs (which I am convinced label me as an American because these European women seem to have no fat, what-so-ever, on their thighs. WHY DO EUROPEAN WOMEN HAVE SUCH THIN THIGHS???? I EAT OLIVE OIL TOO!! AND DRINK WINE!!! WHY????), that makes me feel so displaced here? Or is it that Spanish people are simply just...well, simple?? I mean, they don't want crafty craft supplies or books (it seems, the lack of Spanish bookstores is apalling ot me)...so really, are they just really, really strong within themselves and their thoughts that they don't need stimulus...or are they just simple?? What?? I don't get it. Here I go again...bashing Spain. I heart Michigan. Oh...Michigan...home of gyms where people need to read or watch TV or listen to music when they work out. Sigh. And...YANKEE CANDLES...and MORNINGSTAR FARMS BREAKFAST PATTIES!!! (Recently I learned that Morningstar Farms is now owned by Kellogg's...which is HOMETOWN!! Kellogg's is my neck of the woods...!! I lived on Kellogg School Road as a child (though right about where our house was the name changed to Floria Road.) I went to Delton KELLOGG Schools!!! I think they OWE ME and they should bring me my Morningstar Farms Breakfast Patties!! I mean, they sell cereal here and I squeal with delight in the cereal aisle when I see Special K (which they pronounce as Special Kah in commercials) and feel all proud that that box of cereal was born in my neck of the woods!! BRING ME MY PATTIES FUCKERS!!!)
For the love of god, I get so splintered. Anyway. Boy has been gone for a week now. It's really terrible. I don't like living without him anymore. He's not home a hell of a lot during the week anyway, but it sure is nice to know he will be home before I go to sleep. I miss him. But...the exciting news is that I have broken myself of that protective device of shutting down whenever he leaves. That device that came in oh so handy back in the days when it was going to be six weeks, not ten days, before we saw one another again. I didn't go into automatic shut down this time when he left. I am simply, patiently, waiting for him to get home on Thursday night. COME HOME!!!! DAMN!!! He will be home for about a week and then he leaves for another long (ten days) stretch. Going back to Michigan for work. Sigh. Michigan. I should go but I just can't muster that kind of energy right now. Planes=stress. Leaving cats=stress. Lack of routine=stresss. Hell...I still don't even have a routine in place here other than waking up at 11:45 every morning. I need a routine to break before I leave again.
There has been a dog barking SOMEWHERE around here since midnight last night. My nerves are shot to hell. I tried to figure out where he was earlier today...because while it is annoying as hell that he is barking I am mostly just concerned about him...obviously he is not okay...and I can't seem to locate him. We live kind of on a hill, between two small mountain-ish type things and I think sound carries far...I can't find him, when I go to the place where I think he is I can't hear him anymore. I am stressed about this. Poor dog. And poor me. And poor everyone that lives around here. Right now he is howling and I just don't know what to do.
I love Johnny Lang. Go get Wander This World and tell me if you don't love it. I love it. I've been listening to this particular album for five years now. And I never tire of it.
I need to go finish my laundry now. Don't tell anyone but that laundry soap that I love so much from France...that laundry soap that I pined over while I was in Michigan, that laundry soap that we drive to France to get...that laundry soap is now my second favorite...Spain has this very popular scent, it's usually stated as "con jabon de Marsella" and it's lovely...they put it in everything, cleaning suppies, laundry soap...and of course in body soap. I like it but I feel somewhat disloyal for liking it because my French laundry soap is so perfectly beautiful too. That is one thing the U.S. totally sucks at...laundry soap and fabric softner. We (or I guess I should say, "you" since I hope to never return to the U.S. to live...at least not for a long, long time because I don't want my cats to fly and because I never want to do another International move unless I am going to stay) need an overhaul in that industry.
Shut up Whisper.|
previous - next