Estic Terminat*

Oh look, it's been 4 months and I'm already going home. I liked a lot, I didn't like a lot and I'm coming back.

Things I'm very very ready for

+Food
Specifically Chick-fil-a, apple cider, pumpkin anything, Hi Bombay!, peanut butter, flavor, popcorn, butter, broccoli, Mexican food, milk, and a source of protein other than pig.

+Being able to read a book from the library or a bookstore without having to think really hard whilst reading

+People I know

+Having a telephone that works

+Smoking bans in public places
I'm tired of airing out my smoky clothes from the night before since I a) forgot to bring Febreze b) don't get to do my own laundry and c) only have 2 pairs of pants.

+Snow
Until Christmas and then I want that ish gone.

+Being able to express anger or excitement or really any emotion and not sounding like an idiot

+Affordable shoes

Things I'm going to miss

+Being able to walk everywhere
Because it's never colder than 50F/10C, the sidewalks are huge, and everything's close. I'm especially going to miss my walk to school.

+People being really comfortable with their bodies
Also my breasts would like a healthy tan next year.

+The metro
The metro here had countdowns to tell you when the next train is coming, runs all night on Saturdays, costs 7.95€ for 10 trips, and has escalators. This is a far cry from arcade city Philadelphia, where the sham of the subway operates on tokens and frequently forgets to stop at my station.

+The metric system

+Noa
Yesterday, Noa built our pessebre/nativity which really deserves an entire post to itself for you to be able to fully appreciate the comedy value of it.

+Being able to speak three languages
This is a fun game: harto [spanish for tired] > fart [catalan for tired] > pet [catalan for fart, also a popular rock band] > mascota [spanish for pet]

+The beach

+The mountains

+The women
They have nice arms, they don't wear much makeup, they have shiny hair, they wear sensible clothes, they speak Spanish.

+Living next to a church
1/2 due to the laziness-inducing time-telling bells and 1/2 because it smells really nice and calming when I walk through it on my way home.

+Juliet

+Everyone having their own style
Note the stroller: actual adults dress like this.

+Dogs without leashes

+Kids
There's really no idea of kids' space and adults' space here. You'd have to search really hard to find someone who says things like, "Why couldn't they just have left the kids at home" and even if you did find them, they would probably not be from Barcelona. Parents bring their kids to bars, babies don't cry [much], and no one freaks the eff out about child molesters.

+Cheap things, flights, food, drinks, and metros

+Not tipping

+My gym

I would like to take Eloi, the trainer who chats with me while I exercise, with me please. And the cute cycling instructor with a tegan piercing who sings along to the music over her microphone while she's teaching classes. And the fingerprint scanners so I don't have to carry a card around.

+Monopoly money

+People standing patiently in line

If there is a line. You know those signs at King's Island:

Those would not exist here because people just don't care. If you're in a grocery chain or clothes store, no one cares about waiting around for 10 minutes until it's their turn, and if you're in a market it's an all-out push or be pushed smilefest of nice people.

+Assorted weirdness

Coming soon: Me throwing up all over you about how much I loved Morocco. As soon as my roommate from the trip sends me our photos.

*I know it should be "estic terminada" since I'm a girl, but you can't sing that to the tune of "Feliz Navidad."

i'm getting tired, i'm forgetting why

nothing is lonelier than living alone.

i like the contentment of coming home to a house with life in it. and maybe some love, too.

and i like the vulnerability that comes with budding familiarity, but i’ve got all the wrong kinds of uncertainty.

i’m watering my plants to see growth, eating to feel full.

everything breaks my heart and at the same time, nothing at all...at least not in the way i want it to. when i feel it all but can’t find the worth, i’ll remember just how small i am.

sometimes there’s safety in being so young. i want to be precocious forever, sassing grownups into taking me seriously.

do i really have to put up with being told to just relax when something’s not alright? isn’t that what they say when there’re so many of them? they’ll talk me down to themselves and to their friends and then to me.

i try so hard to get roughed up.

i fight back with words, but shudder realizing how real the frenzy can become. no one would beat up a kid. except, probably, another kid, a bigger one, you know?

there’s so little vindication in growing up to see the fights you thought we’d forget happen again.

i’m worried that all this loneliness is slowing me down. i’ll be prufrock minus the poetry, letting time bustle by without me.

my grandma said when you’re old, you can either be invisible or crazy. i’ll do anything to avoid more desolation. i’ve got to get out.

living in a house with windows that are glued shut is just a little too symbolic for my liking.