Hurrah!

Tomorrow, I get to go home (if the weather permits).

You know what this means, right?

YES.

EATING.

Lots of lovely eating, which is good news for my rack, which has depleted greatly over the last three months.

Poor measly flaps of flesh.

The Ear WILL be pleased.

You see, I haven't quite got used to the eating scheme here in Spain.

So I just don't eat.

Which is sad.

When I left England, I thought that it was rather brilliant because I would FINALLY not have to answer to anyone,
have The Ear to cook for and a whole bunch of freedom.

As it turns out, The Ear buggered off to Pamplona, my housemates stalk me via Facebook and cooking for myself is
just...

UNSATISYING. No one to impress apart from myself and at 9:30pm, after pratting around in front of semi-dead
spaniards for five hours, I'm really not that fussed with impressing myself.

And as for freedom? Well fuck me, there's so much freedom that I have filled it with sleeping and hanging out
with my best friend 'lappy'... he's reliable, he plays sweet music and he allows me to look at other blogs all
night long if I feel like it. God bless technology.

I did try swimming, but with the snow it quickly became the past and I do go for coffee on my own every day
to write in my diary. After Christmas this is going to change. I have Spanish lessons planned, swimming will
recommence and I will start tutoring 3 children for extra pocket money.

So, I seem to have strayed from the point.

HOME.

Yes.

I am muchos excited... I get to see all of my lovely friends and family and bestow them with gifts and cuddles.
I get to go to M&S, oh god how I have missed M&S, and then I'm off to Canterbury to see the greatest hairdresser
of all time and see more friends and give even more gifts.

BRILLIANT.

I wonder if I will miss Spain at all?

And I MUST remember to start saying 'please' and 'thankyou' again in England, it has completely escaped me here.

Yes, I will miss Spain. I will miss my Friday Bastard Nine Year olds, the loudest children on earth, I will miss
wearing skinny jeans (ain't no way I'm fitting into them after the feasts in England) and I will miss the nice lady
at the Pasteleria.

And yet, the battle still rages on.... Spain vs. England.

One day, one of them has to win my heart.

England currently has the edge, but I suspect that has something to do with my being able to speak the language
more than fluently.

Pull your finger out Sally Spoon, get some of that Spanish language behind you!

Go go go!