In Madrid

In Madrid, encantada.

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Back to the USA

I had a crazy last few days in Spain. With my parents visiting, revisiting Barcelona, packing, and saying goodbye to everybody, the sadness didn’t hit me until my plane took off. The funniest thing was that my flight was delayed by 4 hours and I had a crazy list of connections I was supposed to make to meet up with my parents, going from JFK to DC and then to Allentown. Because I was delayed, they switched my airlines and put me on my parents’ whole itinerary. It was so good to sit by my momma when I shed a tear saying goodbye to Madrid.
Saying farewell to my host mom and dog was hard. We tried to play it cool and I know I’ll go back to see her someday but it was still painful The dog didn’t deal well. He dug in my bed, rolled on all my things, and watched me pack like I was abandoning him.
I’m glad to be in good old America, but reluctant to think about starting work.
Thank you all for following some my little posts! See you in real life!

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My Momma and Poppa are coming tomorrow and I could not be more excited!!

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Back from Italy! Leaving for home in 10 days! Ahhhh where does the time go?

Back from Italy! Leaving for home in 10 days! Ahhhh where does the time go?

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The quietest subway ride I’ve had all day and it’s still quite loud. Also I swear that’s not dandruff on my blazer but seeing as I haven’t dry cleaned anything since I got here I’ll just assume it’s Spain dust.

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What was that drink anyway?

Thinking of Dad-
I just drank a glass of flat sprite- a soda I haven’t had in ages. The taste reminded me that you used to put scoops of sherbert in red koolaide. I’m not sure if it had sprite but I remember having a koolaide mustache and a sugar high!
Also, Carmen was wondering how it was possible for me to eat a pop-tart “raw.” They don’t have pop-tarts here except in some candy stores…u guess that says something about the nature of pop-tarts. Anyway I was remembering when we had a toaster oven on miller road and eating my first not “raw” pop-tart. I’ve always like them raw. I’d also like you to know, however, that I think of you more than when I’m eating weird American foods!
I took a dive into the freezing Mediterranean sea and Carmen made a Spanish gesture that essentially means “that was balsy!”
Still cold.

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Hello from the ocean!

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Churrete gets a haicut, wears my underwear.

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There’s no better way to find out that you weren’t made to live in a city than by going 3,500 miles away from home and living in a foreign capital.

I love the convenience of the city, the life-force it generates.

I hate the idea of seeing a thousand people a day who I’ll never meet, who are just useless automatons in my memory.

I love the feeling of having the worlds of art, food, music and language all at my fingertips.

I hate commuting 30 minutes to get anywhere, getting there, and still not being precisely where I want to go.

I love the public spaces, the idea of sharing an entire park with three million people who will all have different experiences in the same place.

I hate the disembodied noises that flood into the streets.

I love Madrid.

I hate that it has to be a city.

In short, I want peace, simplicity, and quietude. I want control over my commute. I want to know the people I see and to see the people I know. I want to see the deer scatter away in the driveway as I pull in at night. I want to see a tree that wasn’t planted, but instead simply grew. 

This, ladies and gentleman, is what we call ‘homesickness.’

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The beach

Be jealous!

My host Mom, Carmen, is taking me to the beach for a whole week starting next Monday! Although I have a lot of work for finals, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I think I’ll actually get a lot done considering the only thing to do on the beach is read anyway.

We’re going to a place called Cabo de Gata in the south of Spain on the Mediterranean sea. I’m so excited (but not very excited to wear a swimsuit after months of eating olive oil soaked bread, Iberian ham, and cheap pastries!).