My friend M*, an American girl who is now dating a very, very Spanish man, told me a few weeks ago she got into an argument with her man because he stood her up at the last minute. He'd suggested a few days before that he pick her up in his car one evening after work. Well, he decided to change his mind and not pick her up - which meant she then had to walk all the way home late at night, carrying the several heavy bags of groceries which she'd bought earlier because, of course, she'd thought she'd have a ride home and wouldn't have to carry them. Amidst what I'm sure were very reprimanding comments from M* when they were later arguing, the Spanish b/f dropped this little gem as explanation: "When I say I'm going to do something, it's just an idea - not a commitment or anything."
It's neverending here, the list of times that I've been stood up or had to change my plans because someone else bailed on me (if not a whole group of people). And it aggravates the crap out of me every time, no matter how used to it I am after living here for over a year.
Thing is, I just don't understand it. I mean, I can totally get why it's okay to be a few minutes late here - maybe it's the lackadaisacal way many New Orleanians live seemingly without schedules (always running late, always apologizing to others, and in return always telling others it's okay when it happens to you, etc.). I actually embrace this aspect of Spanish culture - the fact that if I get there a bit early, great! But if I'm running a few minutes late, who cares? Nobody's counting minutes here.
But...to me, being relaxed about tardiness is so different than the "commitment" issue in Spain. I understand that making a commitment, saying you're going to do something, is a bit of an obligation and you should have every right to do it when you damned well please - if you're a few minutes late or have a slight change of plans at the last minute, I'm cool with that. Shit happens, you know? But, the difference for me comes when (and this happens like clockwork, friends, EVERY time...), always at the last minute, people who have said they'd do things with me, who seemed nothing short of thrilled to do these things, not only change plans but CANCEL them altogether, citing a regular handbag of excuses that I'm all too familiar with by now.
And I just don't get it! This is honestly the most perplexing thing I've discovered about Spanish life and culture, and it is simply beyond me.
And I honestly try hard to figure it out - here's a little example of what goes on in my head, with regard to cultural differences: Hm, maybe it's rooted in the language? Maybe the word "plan" in English is different than the word...wait, wait, Spanish has the word "plan" too. Okay, so maybe the definition is different? Do the Spanish have the metaphor "time is money" built into their language? - can you spend time, in Spanish? I think you can, at least my students never make a funny face or tell me I'm wrong when I say "gastar tiempo" - but then that can mean to spend time, or to waste time. Hm.... ok so if it's not in the language, it's definitely in the social attitude as filtered through the language - what the words plan, commitment, idea, date, meeting mean to the Spanish is very different from what they mean to Americans. Ok, ok, so maybe I can understand a bit - it's just a cultural difference, right? But wait! No way, because with every single other cultural difference, I can relate to the Spanish perspective. But this one, I absolutely can not see why this is a preferable way to handle the making of arrangements with other people. It's so selfish! And that's perhaps what's confusing me the most - I can almost ALWAYS understand decisions made out of selfishness. I get it, you know? You gotta "Look out for number 1?" But...oh I'll stop my ranting now.
If anyone's got an anecdote to throw at me, or something to offer a bit of clarity, I'd greatly appreciate it :)
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Not for Naught
I've always loved that expression. Let's bring that one back, ok?
This week has been amazing, and it's assured me that, indeed, life comes in cycles. Especially life in Granada, where the every whim of the local peoples seems to be entirely dependent on the weather. Now that the sunshine of Spring has arrived, now that everyone can walk around without their heavy coats and boots, people seem physically and metaphysically lighter. (As I consider this, I am simultaneously wondering if perhaps it's just me that's feeling this way, and whether I'm projecting this onto everyone else??)
Whatever the real case may be, the energy here now, so reminiscent of this time last year here in Granada, is truly inspiring me. With my lightened work load, I've been able to go out and meet new people, hang out with some not-so-new people, and take it easy once in a while during my week. It's exactly what I needed.
In other news, I've gotten some really great reports from students this trimester - FOUR are increasing their hours, they're so pleased with my classes! This really makes me feel good. And it's so much more encouraging than seeing dollar signs add up as your validation for work; I don't care that this means I'm getting more money each month. To know my students are willing to pay their hard-earned money just to have an extra hour of MY instruction. Well...that's humbling. Sigh.... It's taking me back to my days at the Writing Center. I feel good about what I do now, like no matter what challenges I may face as a teacher, I'm good at this - and one day, I will be damned good. That's all I could ever really ask for - just to have others appreciate what I do, to affect people's lives personally, and to know that I may not be the best at what I do, but by god, I'm pretty close.
Anyway, it's Springtime and I'm a teacher. My job defines me, and I define my job. How awesome is that??
This week has been amazing, and it's assured me that, indeed, life comes in cycles. Especially life in Granada, where the every whim of the local peoples seems to be entirely dependent on the weather. Now that the sunshine of Spring has arrived, now that everyone can walk around without their heavy coats and boots, people seem physically and metaphysically lighter. (As I consider this, I am simultaneously wondering if perhaps it's just me that's feeling this way, and whether I'm projecting this onto everyone else??)
Whatever the real case may be, the energy here now, so reminiscent of this time last year here in Granada, is truly inspiring me. With my lightened work load, I've been able to go out and meet new people, hang out with some not-so-new people, and take it easy once in a while during my week. It's exactly what I needed.
In other news, I've gotten some really great reports from students this trimester - FOUR are increasing their hours, they're so pleased with my classes! This really makes me feel good. And it's so much more encouraging than seeing dollar signs add up as your validation for work; I don't care that this means I'm getting more money each month. To know my students are willing to pay their hard-earned money just to have an extra hour of MY instruction. Well...that's humbling. Sigh.... It's taking me back to my days at the Writing Center. I feel good about what I do now, like no matter what challenges I may face as a teacher, I'm good at this - and one day, I will be damned good. That's all I could ever really ask for - just to have others appreciate what I do, to affect people's lives personally, and to know that I may not be the best at what I do, but by god, I'm pretty close.
Anyway, it's Springtime and I'm a teacher. My job defines me, and I define my job. How awesome is that??
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Crowds for Crowds' Sake
In case anyone was curious about whether the Spanish are every bit as enthusiastic as the rest of humanity is about gettin' plain ol' drunk, well...the Fiesta de Primavera (this weekend - basically just a general term for the coming of Spring, not like an organized party or anything) is a prime demonstration of the Spanish lust for the sauce.
Last night there was a huge Botellon, and I kept hearing people mention it all day like it was this big, exciting event not to be missed. When I'd ask someone where it was going to be, they all replied, "El Hipercor." ("Huh??!" I thought - "Why would a big fiesta take place at a supermarket?") Well...it seems a botellon is just a massive crowd of people getting drunk in a parking lot. And I mean MASSIVE. I didn't go, myself, but every single person I talked to yesterday was going - all 15 students from my Business English class, my 2 students preparing for the FCE, and even my 14-yr old student who was going there directly after her private class which ended at 7:45pm.
Obviously, my younger students were not going to the botellon to drink alcohol, just to be with their friends and hang out. So maybe it's not about the alcohol. Spanish people just really effing love to crowd up a place, man.
So, that's one example. Then, there's the Dragon Festival (pronounced with an accent over the O). This, also, was something I kept hearing about all week: "Vas a la Dragon?" Before I ever had a chance to answer someone when they asked me this, a huge group of people would all start speaking excitedly at once, in a mixture of several different languages, and I never even got to find out what the hell it was. When yesterday I finally asked a Spanish girl (A*) living in our house, "What IS the Dragon Festival?" she laughed and said, "Un festival normal." Effing Spanish - so direct! It's like when you ask someone at a restaurant, "What kind of cheese comes with this cheese plate?" - the response to this is always, "Queso normal" followed by a confused look as if you are either an alien or an idiot for asking. So, needless to say, I had to probe A* for more information about the Dragon. What I found out is that it's just another massive group of people, this time not in a parking lot but way the hell out of town, getting drunk and imbibing in illegal substances, sometimes listening to or playing live music. For two straight days.
"No, thanks," I say. I don't know if I'm just too old for this stuff anymore, if I've finally embraced the fact that I prefer to either be around a crowd of people I semi-know or else NOT around a crowd at all, or what. Or maybe it's just that I don't have any friends here that I'm completely comfortable and happy to be around. Whatever it is, it's seriously harshing my social life. I've gotta get on the crowd bandwagon sooner or later, dammit.
Last night there was a huge Botellon, and I kept hearing people mention it all day like it was this big, exciting event not to be missed. When I'd ask someone where it was going to be, they all replied, "El Hipercor." ("Huh??!" I thought - "Why would a big fiesta take place at a supermarket?") Well...it seems a botellon is just a massive crowd of people getting drunk in a parking lot. And I mean MASSIVE. I didn't go, myself, but every single person I talked to yesterday was going - all 15 students from my Business English class, my 2 students preparing for the FCE, and even my 14-yr old student who was going there directly after her private class which ended at 7:45pm.
Obviously, my younger students were not going to the botellon to drink alcohol, just to be with their friends and hang out. So maybe it's not about the alcohol. Spanish people just really effing love to crowd up a place, man.
So, that's one example. Then, there's the Dragon Festival (pronounced with an accent over the O). This, also, was something I kept hearing about all week: "Vas a la Dragon?" Before I ever had a chance to answer someone when they asked me this, a huge group of people would all start speaking excitedly at once, in a mixture of several different languages, and I never even got to find out what the hell it was. When yesterday I finally asked a Spanish girl (A*) living in our house, "What IS the Dragon Festival?" she laughed and said, "Un festival normal." Effing Spanish - so direct! It's like when you ask someone at a restaurant, "What kind of cheese comes with this cheese plate?" - the response to this is always, "Queso normal" followed by a confused look as if you are either an alien or an idiot for asking. So, needless to say, I had to probe A* for more information about the Dragon. What I found out is that it's just another massive group of people, this time not in a parking lot but way the hell out of town, getting drunk and imbibing in illegal substances, sometimes listening to or playing live music. For two straight days.
"No, thanks," I say. I don't know if I'm just too old for this stuff anymore, if I've finally embraced the fact that I prefer to either be around a crowd of people I semi-know or else NOT around a crowd at all, or what. Or maybe it's just that I don't have any friends here that I'm completely comfortable and happy to be around. Whatever it is, it's seriously harshing my social life. I've gotta get on the crowd bandwagon sooner or later, dammit.
the Good Stuff
Woke up early today to a casa tranquila, made myself a nice breakfast and a stout coffee, toked a bit, then took a cat nap in the sunshine. After that, I did yoga in the newly opened salon upstairs in the house, sat in the sun again, took a shower, and then went out for a daytime tapas crawl with two lovely ladies from the house, during which I enjoyed a double-scoop ice cream cone of menta y tiramisu flavors (my only actual goal for today was buying an ice cream).
It's 7pm, my day's not half over yet, and already it's been rock solid. Bring it on, sunny springtime. Bring it ON.
It's 7pm, my day's not half over yet, and already it's been rock solid. Bring it on, sunny springtime. Bring it ON.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
A long, unexpectedly blessed day...
The word "blessed" has this strange gospel-Christian connotation to it for me (as in, "Leave a message, and have a blessed day!" as said by turbo-Christians on their voicemails, which always gives me a bit of the creeps), but I really can't think of any other word to describe yesterday. Just to be clear, however - the day was blessed by fortune, not by baby Jesus or his father, or any such diety. If anything, it was blessed by the sun and by some really, really nice people.
I got home on Friday 100% depleted - my work week was HELL, and my Friday work kept me out of the house all day from 8:30am til 9pm, and just before my last class at IML, I started to have an allergic reaction at the school after "hoofing it" from one class to the next in the pollen-infested Spring air. I'd taken an antihistimine earlier that day, but it obviously wore off around 5:00pm. Unfortunately, I didn't have any more allergy meds on me except for my epi-pen, and if I'd decided to cancel class and try to make it home before it got too serious, I'd have to either walk pretty far to the nearest bus stop or climb up the monstrous hill to my house; luckily, I had about 45 minutes before my student arrived, so amidst near panic, I decided to try to relax and push through it. I sat completely still in the classroom the entire time, with my head down, unable to breath, face and body writhing in itchiness and completely red, eyes itchy and watery, etc etc...just trying to pretend like all was ok and not panic. Thankfully, this worked, and once my student showed up to distract me from freaking out, the symptoms started to subside. The one great thing in all of that is that I made it through without any antihistimines! Now I know that if I can just calm down in a place that's relatively well insulated and allergy-free, I can slow the reaction and avoid DEATH. Good to know.
Anyway, I got home after all of that and discovered that Daniel and Pils (from Denmark, who have a van) still wanted to go to the beach, as well as Simone (from Beliz). All was not lost! I went to bed early and happy.
On Saturday, I was perhaps a bit too anxious. I woke up at 7am and showered and packed everything I would need for 2 days and a night of camping on the beach. Once everyone else woke up, we not only decided to just come back the same day but also to change the location - instead of Nerja, we'd go to the closer Salobrena because some friends of Daniel and Pils' were going there also. I was fine with this - as long as I had a ride and some company, and as long as I'd get some time in the sun and sand, I was ecstatic.
We made the journey to Salobrena relatively quickly, bought some food and beer, and by 1pm we were sitting on the beach in style. Salobrena turned out to be lackluster - as I'd heard from multiple people I've known who go there often, but it's closer than Nerja and for a simple day trip, it made more sense. After a few hours and an amazing lunch on the beach, we decided to head to Lajaron in the Alpujarras - that's the city where they get the water from; the snow melts from up in the mountains and falls down into natural pools, where they collect it, bottle it, and ship it out all over Spain. We found a beautiful vista with a nearby bar, drank tinto de veranos and watched the sunset. By the time we got home, it was prime tapas time, so I headed out with Daniel and Pils for a few drinks and some patatas asadas at a nearby bar. We got full really quickly and decided to head back to the house around midnight.
All-in-all, a very good day. I had time outside of Granada - two places that I'd never been to but heard a lot about, and there were lots of new people to chat with and get to know. And I still had all of Sunday to get ready for the coming week.
I am content. Time for yoga.
I got home on Friday 100% depleted - my work week was HELL, and my Friday work kept me out of the house all day from 8:30am til 9pm, and just before my last class at IML, I started to have an allergic reaction at the school after "hoofing it" from one class to the next in the pollen-infested Spring air. I'd taken an antihistimine earlier that day, but it obviously wore off around 5:00pm. Unfortunately, I didn't have any more allergy meds on me except for my epi-pen, and if I'd decided to cancel class and try to make it home before it got too serious, I'd have to either walk pretty far to the nearest bus stop or climb up the monstrous hill to my house; luckily, I had about 45 minutes before my student arrived, so amidst near panic, I decided to try to relax and push through it. I sat completely still in the classroom the entire time, with my head down, unable to breath, face and body writhing in itchiness and completely red, eyes itchy and watery, etc etc...just trying to pretend like all was ok and not panic. Thankfully, this worked, and once my student showed up to distract me from freaking out, the symptoms started to subside. The one great thing in all of that is that I made it through without any antihistimines! Now I know that if I can just calm down in a place that's relatively well insulated and allergy-free, I can slow the reaction and avoid DEATH. Good to know.
Anyway, I got home after all of that and discovered that Daniel and Pils (from Denmark, who have a van) still wanted to go to the beach, as well as Simone (from Beliz). All was not lost! I went to bed early and happy.
On Saturday, I was perhaps a bit too anxious. I woke up at 7am and showered and packed everything I would need for 2 days and a night of camping on the beach. Once everyone else woke up, we not only decided to just come back the same day but also to change the location - instead of Nerja, we'd go to the closer Salobrena because some friends of Daniel and Pils' were going there also. I was fine with this - as long as I had a ride and some company, and as long as I'd get some time in the sun and sand, I was ecstatic.
We made the journey to Salobrena relatively quickly, bought some food and beer, and by 1pm we were sitting on the beach in style. Salobrena turned out to be lackluster - as I'd heard from multiple people I've known who go there often, but it's closer than Nerja and for a simple day trip, it made more sense. After a few hours and an amazing lunch on the beach, we decided to head to Lajaron in the Alpujarras - that's the city where they get the water from; the snow melts from up in the mountains and falls down into natural pools, where they collect it, bottle it, and ship it out all over Spain. We found a beautiful vista with a nearby bar, drank tinto de veranos and watched the sunset. By the time we got home, it was prime tapas time, so I headed out with Daniel and Pils for a few drinks and some patatas asadas at a nearby bar. We got full really quickly and decided to head back to the house around midnight.
All-in-all, a very good day. I had time outside of Granada - two places that I'd never been to but heard a lot about, and there were lots of new people to chat with and get to know. And I still had all of Sunday to get ready for the coming week.
I am content. Time for yoga.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Lows and Woes
M* said something to me today, amidst discussions of the upcoming trip to the beach for my birthday (which was Tuesday), that made me think: I was talking about how I'm always disappointed on my birthday, when I make plans with friends to do something, and everyone seems super excited and into it, and then come the day of, they all bail. When I mentioned this, M* said, "Classic middle child syndrome."
So I'm wondering, now, whether this is all in my mind, or whether there's something more to it. Since the birthday has come and gone, and since I'm just about to reach the summit of my ridiculously busy schedule (the module will be ending soon, which means 15 more hours of "free time" each week), I've been thinking about myself, how I live my life, the people I choose to include in my life and the people I perpetually keep at a distance.
I've realized how long it takes me to make a connection with people - a really long-lasting connection, more than just a random "Hey, me too!" moment once in a while. The thing about my current situation is, I've been really busy lately - the past two months my workload has doubled, and when faced with the option of partying with the people who live in the house and have way fewer obligations than I do (and then feeling like shit the next day at work), I generally prefer to stay home, watch a movie on the internet, and wake up semi-ready for my long day of work. This has resulted in fewer and fewer people I can genuinely relate to, as the people in the house are constantly changing and it takes time and opportunity to get to know the new people who come in. Although I was aware of this when my busy days began, I opted to put my nose to the grindstone, save some money on the nights I wouldn't be going out and partying, and sacrifice the potential friends I might make. The only time I've had available to socialize is on the weekends, when the people who've already made bonds have their own plans and don't even think to include me, because I always say "no." I had to explain the saying, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" to one of my students the other day, and it was one of those strange, dejavu-y moments where I felt like the universe was talking to me.
So, that's one part of the problem. But it's making me think about deeper problems, and I now realize how the insecurity I always suffered from when I was young still plays a big part in my social interactions. I think I hold people at a distance because I'm afraid they'll judge me, afraid they'll see the American in me creeping out no matter how much I try to conceal it, afraid of...well, just afraid really. So, of course I love my work and love to be good at what I do, no matter what I do but especially now that I do something I love. But that's no excuse to avoid making friends, to put on this confident, "I don't need you" exterior and always do my own thing. Because in the end, doing my own thing means doing it alone. And I'm starting to realize how much that sucks.
So anyway, what's happening with the beach trip is this: I started planning this thing 3 weeks ago. I mentioned it to several people, and they were all excited and even talking about plans for food and alcohol, camping and activities we could do while there at the beach. I researched bus prices and schedules, looked up hostal locations and prices in case it rains, and put up signs all over the common areas of the house to remind everybody. And now that I've seen the weather report (perfect) and there's the possibility of riding in a van instead of the bus (read: FREE), the anticipation of this trip has been the one thing that's gotten me through my hellacious week - I keep telling myself, "Just get through this, and on Saturday, you'll be sitting in the sand, soaking up the sun, without a worry in the world." On my actual birthday, even, at least 4 people flaked out on the casual tapas/drink meeting I'd planned, and I ended up having a relatively lackluster "celebratory drink" with a few friends that I barely know, but I told myself it was okay because we would celebrate my birthday this weekend. And of course, now, 2 days before the trip, I come home and ask a few people if they're still coming, and every single one says they've got something else, some reason that they can't go. One even told me there was talk in the house of, instead of going to the beach, having a house party for two members who are moving out this weekend to a house down the hill. That, honestly, was the last straw - the fact that I've been planning this for 3 weeks, and someone only has to mention another idea for everyone who parties together routinely to jump ship.
And no matter how much I tell myself it's not a big deal, jesus CHRIST am I disappointed, and angry, and depressed, and let down, and upset with myself. Because somewhere inside my head, I feel like it's my own fault for not letting people in, not telling people how much they mean to me on a daily basis, how much it means to me just to have ONE day, one fucking day where people come to not only support me but just to be in the same vacinity as me and enjoy themselves. I don't feel like that's a lot to ask. But I can't be angry with everyone else - all the reasons they've got are valid, of course (money problems, obligations, moving weekend, etc.), but I am angry and I'm just too self aware to try and pretend I'm angry with them. I'm angry with myself. Which makes it all the more disappointing.
Anyway, all truly isn't lost. The guy who owns the van, and his girlfriend, as far as I know are still in. And M* has told me she'll do whatever she can to make it, even if it's just for the day and we don't stay and camp overnight. Even if we have to take the bus. It's just not what I imagined it would be - I had hoped, at best, for 5 or so people from the house to come along. I had hoped to make a barbecue on the beach, camp out in our sleeping bags under the stars, welcome the coming Spring in style. And to finally have time to talk to the people I live with, to connect with them in a way that I never have time or occasion to do because I work so damned much.
Anyway, this is me. Wallowing in birthday self-pity. Waah, waaaah, waaaaaaaaah.
So I'm wondering, now, whether this is all in my mind, or whether there's something more to it. Since the birthday has come and gone, and since I'm just about to reach the summit of my ridiculously busy schedule (the module will be ending soon, which means 15 more hours of "free time" each week), I've been thinking about myself, how I live my life, the people I choose to include in my life and the people I perpetually keep at a distance.
I've realized how long it takes me to make a connection with people - a really long-lasting connection, more than just a random "Hey, me too!" moment once in a while. The thing about my current situation is, I've been really busy lately - the past two months my workload has doubled, and when faced with the option of partying with the people who live in the house and have way fewer obligations than I do (and then feeling like shit the next day at work), I generally prefer to stay home, watch a movie on the internet, and wake up semi-ready for my long day of work. This has resulted in fewer and fewer people I can genuinely relate to, as the people in the house are constantly changing and it takes time and opportunity to get to know the new people who come in. Although I was aware of this when my busy days began, I opted to put my nose to the grindstone, save some money on the nights I wouldn't be going out and partying, and sacrifice the potential friends I might make. The only time I've had available to socialize is on the weekends, when the people who've already made bonds have their own plans and don't even think to include me, because I always say "no." I had to explain the saying, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" to one of my students the other day, and it was one of those strange, dejavu-y moments where I felt like the universe was talking to me.
So, that's one part of the problem. But it's making me think about deeper problems, and I now realize how the insecurity I always suffered from when I was young still plays a big part in my social interactions. I think I hold people at a distance because I'm afraid they'll judge me, afraid they'll see the American in me creeping out no matter how much I try to conceal it, afraid of...well, just afraid really. So, of course I love my work and love to be good at what I do, no matter what I do but especially now that I do something I love. But that's no excuse to avoid making friends, to put on this confident, "I don't need you" exterior and always do my own thing. Because in the end, doing my own thing means doing it alone. And I'm starting to realize how much that sucks.
So anyway, what's happening with the beach trip is this: I started planning this thing 3 weeks ago. I mentioned it to several people, and they were all excited and even talking about plans for food and alcohol, camping and activities we could do while there at the beach. I researched bus prices and schedules, looked up hostal locations and prices in case it rains, and put up signs all over the common areas of the house to remind everybody. And now that I've seen the weather report (perfect) and there's the possibility of riding in a van instead of the bus (read: FREE), the anticipation of this trip has been the one thing that's gotten me through my hellacious week - I keep telling myself, "Just get through this, and on Saturday, you'll be sitting in the sand, soaking up the sun, without a worry in the world." On my actual birthday, even, at least 4 people flaked out on the casual tapas/drink meeting I'd planned, and I ended up having a relatively lackluster "celebratory drink" with a few friends that I barely know, but I told myself it was okay because we would celebrate my birthday this weekend. And of course, now, 2 days before the trip, I come home and ask a few people if they're still coming, and every single one says they've got something else, some reason that they can't go. One even told me there was talk in the house of, instead of going to the beach, having a house party for two members who are moving out this weekend to a house down the hill. That, honestly, was the last straw - the fact that I've been planning this for 3 weeks, and someone only has to mention another idea for everyone who parties together routinely to jump ship.
And no matter how much I tell myself it's not a big deal, jesus CHRIST am I disappointed, and angry, and depressed, and let down, and upset with myself. Because somewhere inside my head, I feel like it's my own fault for not letting people in, not telling people how much they mean to me on a daily basis, how much it means to me just to have ONE day, one fucking day where people come to not only support me but just to be in the same vacinity as me and enjoy themselves. I don't feel like that's a lot to ask. But I can't be angry with everyone else - all the reasons they've got are valid, of course (money problems, obligations, moving weekend, etc.), but I am angry and I'm just too self aware to try and pretend I'm angry with them. I'm angry with myself. Which makes it all the more disappointing.
Anyway, all truly isn't lost. The guy who owns the van, and his girlfriend, as far as I know are still in. And M* has told me she'll do whatever she can to make it, even if it's just for the day and we don't stay and camp overnight. Even if we have to take the bus. It's just not what I imagined it would be - I had hoped, at best, for 5 or so people from the house to come along. I had hoped to make a barbecue on the beach, camp out in our sleeping bags under the stars, welcome the coming Spring in style. And to finally have time to talk to the people I live with, to connect with them in a way that I never have time or occasion to do because I work so damned much.
Anyway, this is me. Wallowing in birthday self-pity. Waah, waaaah, waaaaaaaaah.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)