The Penny Drops

It was a full moon this weekend.

The full moon and I don't agree.

Oh no.

We most certainly don't.

It starts with a bright, brilliant feeling. Everything is clear, I feel vibrant and alive.

As the day progresses, the light starts to disappear, irrational thoughts spring to mind and start to multiply.

Soon I am seething, brimming and boiling with intense emotion and it grows and grows until I burst into a huge sea of tears and verbally crap all over the Ear via the telephone.

This completely strange process and polar ends of the emotional spectrum are totally unexplainable.

'What is WRONG with you?' I ask myself.

'Snap out of it woman.'

Quietly, after having completely expelled every word in my head, I then turn my snot filled face towards the window and there she is.

Big ol' moon.

Playing her moody mood games.

However, this time, Mrs Moon did me a little favour.

She made me realise and totally admit that I am not happy here and above all, I am not myself.

Generally, as a Cancerian, I love to be around people but I also love to faff off on my own and be totally isolated, but this is a CHOICE. In Zamora, I have no choice but to be alone.

I don't know what I want to do with my life, and what I am actually good at that could potentially fulfill me and earn me a cosy living, but I do know that I love to love, and I love to give and receive.

I moved here for love, and I find myself totally alone.

So, that's it.

It's ok to admit defeat.

I'm not running for the hills like a maniac, but I am actively seeking to find open doors and walk straight through them with confidence.

Fuck Zamora, I just want to be loved.

England or Pamplona better make room for me, whom ever calls first.

xxx

I'm not going to lie to you.

I have been ILL this week, with everything from moon doom, to snotface to migraine joy.

I think everyone at work thinks that I am some kind of hypochondriac maniac.

So I haven't been up to much apart from sleeping and crying like a total loser.

When I did manage to surface I took a bunch of random photos.

These were from a coffee date:

Then I got bored looking out of my window at freedom:


And this was taken to accompany some seriously bad creative writing that I started in a feverish moment but never finished.


So yes, this is how boring life gets when you're ill.

Yes sir.

I can't sleep.

So I started doing a little dead of the night web browsing.

And...

I found this picture by my friend Rich on his website (www.richmurray.co.uk)

I think it is very cute.

I'm sure you will agree.

PS. How fricking cute is this kitten too?

I cannot believe I forgot to put cupcakes on the top ten.

CUPCAAAAAAKES.

Ten things that make me happy

1. Music! Joni Mitchell/The Kings of Convenience/Fionn Regan/Florence/Madge/The Fairport Convention etc will always sort me out.


2. Danish companies like Noa Noa, Miss Etoile and Lisbeth Dahl because they totally press my colour/fabric/ephemera buttons.


3. The Ear and his daily 9:30am morning text. It always wakes me up and makes me smile. His grumpy face also totally delights me.


4. My Family. My lovely Daddy who takes me for coffee and regails the contents of his New Scientist magazine to me in great detail.

Woman, who pesters me on a regular basis about the goldfish/snails 'The snail hasn't moved all day, what do you think I should do? Sally? SAAALLLLYYY?'...

Pie, who smells funny and annoys the hell out of me but is silly and cosy and makes me smile.

Boy, who doesn't have much to do with us but whose humour is sharp and he has deligtful moments where he is actually
quite affectionate and the most fun!

Marley, who won't talk to you when he passes you by but if you catch him half asleep he will roll onto his back and allow you to give him a full body massage before he throws you a disgusted look and faffs off...

and Bubba who is just the kindest, sofest, most wise cat that e'er lived.


5. Food! Especially smoked salmon, afternoon tea and cake, humous and kettle chips and guacamole!!


6. Maria and Alex in my First Certificate Class (mainly because I had to add something Spanish here, and because Maria made me a FIT brooch and they are the only two students that I believe actually really like me... we often exchange silly presents or emails.) I am also totally in love with my daily PET class who are
pretty shit at English but have so much enthusiasum and kindess. A few of my nine year olds are also so so cute and think that I speak Spanish even though I assure them repeatedly that I don't.

They still rant off on one for ten minutes and I have to nod and say 'Wow! Really?'.


7. Friends (Bobbie and Vicki, my true loves)


8. Buying delightful objects from ebay, etsy, car boot fairs...


9. Candy Corn- I could eat that shit all day, seriously.


10. Nostalgia- aaaah, good old memories. Pictures, letters, little ornaments, smells, tastes...
I love the past... Good or bad, it either fills me with immense warmth or with bittersweet laughter at the memory of behaving like a royal twatface.

Hello.

I'm back.

And it's all over.

Just me and the Kings of Convenience again.

A lonely room.

Social hibernation.

Rapidly fading memories of cosy coffee dates with friends and family.

In exchange for THIS.

Don't get me wrong, I don't completely hate it here, but when it is so starkly contrasted with the recent
memories of my lovely homeland it just all seems a bit... bleak.

I moved here to be closer to the Ear, but he's now on the other side of the country. It's not easy letting
go of the ones you love, when all you want is to be close to them. However, he needs to grow and flourish
and who am I to stand in the way? I am only responsible for myself and have to make my own happiness.

Speaking of the Ear, I'm off to see him this weekend. 142 Euros, a 14 hour round trip and a 6am start
for one day's worth of quality time.

Thank god he's paying for it.


So how was my Christmas, you ask?

Well, after excessive eating I am happy to declare that the flaps are fully flourishing again and resemble two
big, bountiful melons. It was lovely to see the family and the friends... Oh, and one of the cats now weighs in
at an astonshing 10kgs...

There is nothing quite like being surrounded by everyone you love.

And good food.

I shall miss the food. Now I am back to the chicken diet.

That's all I seem to eat here.

Chicken.

Everyday.

The melons are aching at the thought.

Not in a good way.

Ooh and while I am here, may I just throw a little pickle into the mix?

I have been offered an exceptionally delightful bedroom in a flat that I fantasise about.

The top floor. Huge balconies overlooking the mountains and with stunning sunsets. A cleaner.
Warm colours. Friends.

All for more than twice the price of tiny room next to loud traffic lights and fire station with housemates that
like to interfer in my life more than I desire them to.

But the money... the money... what do I do???

The one plan in my exciting life here is to accumulate as much money as possible... so looks like I'm stuck with
my housemate who I often suspect is stalking my every move via facebook or spends hours devising ways to piss me
off.

Por ejemplo...

I walk in the front door.

He pops out of his room like a jack in the box (I think he has been waiting, fingers on handle) demanding to know

where I have been.

'My mother has been waiting to meet you, and you weren't here, where have you been? She had to go. She was very...
very... emotional'

Now, I certainly wouldn't mind if I had been informed of her visit but, as it turns out, I had just finished
work and been to the supermarket. CRIMINAL.

So then he sighs and says 'I go to my room now to call people about the internet. I am suffering for YOU.'
and skulks off with the pout of a fat child.

Suffering for me? The internet is down so I have my laptop perched between the ledge of my double windows
trying to receive a signal from the art college.

And my fingers are freezing off.

I promise next time I write it will be about happiness, small bunnies and joy.

xxx

Mi hermana y gato

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!