Per yooj, I woke up late. Whatever. I´m on fucking vacation. At first, I felt badly about it - like I should be out exploring Paris, but whatevskis. I´m le tired. Regardless, when I woke up, there was a choir practicing in the courtyard. Plus had warned me about this. She said "it´s like living in a Woody Allen movie - people just burst into song." I love Plus.
As I showered I remembered that during my post-jog shower last night, I had tried to dry my hair with the whiplash method. Girls know what I´m talking about. I didn´t have another towel and I didn´t want my hair sopping wet. So, I threw my head and hair forward and back violently. However, I threw my head too far forward and slammed my forehead on the bathtub area. Yeah, I´m flexible and yeah, I´m an idiot. When it happened a loud empty thud rang in the air. I laughed really loudly thinking "Did I really just do that?" Hilarity.
I walked around Plus´ area - which she told me they call Bobo (for bourgeoisie and bohemian). I decided to start calling her that. I read on some steps when I was done walking and waited for Bobo to get back from work. People kept trying to talk to me, but I felt a fool when I could only reply minimally. Usually I´d just ask if they could speak Spanish. If not, then English. I´d rather be a "Spaniard" than an American abroad...
Bobo showed up and we had decided earlier to make a nice hearty salad for us and some of her friends for dinner that night. We got prosciutto, figs, goat cheese, nuts, baguette, etc. It was going to be awesome. Bee-tee-dubs, I like that everything has its own shop. Bakery. Cheese shop. Etc. It´s fun - as long as they are all close to one another.
Plus and I lounged before her friends arrived. When they showed, we got to "cooking." Her friends brought wine(s) and dessert. The whole meal was delicious. We talked a bit. We ate a lot. We watched some "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and her friends called it quits at midnight. Maggie talked on Skype for a long while as I packed and did the dishes. It was perfect.
I needed some time to digest physically - and mentally, seeing as though today marked 3 years since Manni´s passed. I´ve decided against devoting a separate entry to him/it/whatever. I´ve pretty much said all there is to say about it: It sucks. He was great. He was loved. I miss him... I´m glad Maggie was preoccupied because maybe it was the wine or the upcoming lady days (sorry dudes) because I teared up a bit, but was happy to know I got to experience Manuel in a way most people had not (not in a gross way, sick-os). Maybe later I´ll blog about the AMAZING lunch I had with a great friend of his Olayinka... that´s how I´ll celebrate him instead.
Maggie and I chatted about how much we love each other, basically, and how great of a time we had had thus far. We fell asleep and braced for our last day together...
0 comments:
Post a Comment