Weekend in Paradise Part One

Sometimes I look at fellow bloggers' posts documenting their recent mini excursions or road trips and I can't help but think to myself... I won.  It's not their fault.  Not everyone has some of the most amazing landscapes and impossibly charming villages so close to home.


This past weekend ended up being a big deal.  For a long time, David and I had been contemplating cashing in the lovely gift that Sonia and Manuel had given us for our wedding.  It was a Smart Box, one of those gift certificates that comes with a booklet of several options.  As soon as we opened it, we knew we were going to go with a spa day.  So, last week, we finally selected a date and facility, and decided to make it into an event.  We booked a night in the same hotel as the spa.  I consulted with a coworker to find out which little towns in the surrounding area would be the most worth checking out.  The week slowly but surely came to an end, and Saturday morning—bright and early—we were north-bound, giddy to embark on a long-overdue adventure!


MENU.  MUSIC.  ARTISTS: GLEE.  SONGS: ALL.  GO!  Despite the GPS sporadically tweaking David's nerves a bit, the drive was a blast!  It was totally reminiscent of all the road trips we used to make together out of Columbus (Chicago, Michigan, Pittsburg, Cincinnati...).  We arrived at the hotel and promptly took in what would be our home for the next twenty four hours.

The Old Wing, where our room was.

The Grand Staircase

Cute little common area by our room.

After check-in, we went up to our room to leave our belongings and change into our swim suits and robes.  Our spa appointment was at 11:30, so we headed right down.


I have never relaxed as much as I did that afternoon!  The name of the hotel is the Vichy Catalan, which is also the name of a brand of sparkling mineral water (of which the factory is right next door).  The Spa's theme was this special water, which is supposedly, due to the minerals, beneficial to the body in many ways.  We began our session with an hour in the thermal circuit.  This entailed a giant jacuzzi filled with Vichy Catalan, two amazing saunas, as well a strange path of smooth stones and water jets meant to massage your legs and feet.


After this luxurious hour, we had an inhalation session.  For about a half hour, we sat in front of tube that expelled Vichy steam in our faces.  It sounds ridiculous, but it was one of the most relaxing experiences of my life!  


Next, we were taken up on an elevator for the main event.  An hour-long double massage.  My masseuse was a godsend.  I'd never had a professional massage before, let alone a full body massage, and I struggled to contain my ecstatic moans.  David, on the other hand, was struggling not to whimper.  His masseuse was a stocky blonde woman who looked like her name could be Helga and who quite possibly hailed from Sweden.  Not long after her "man hands" attacked him, he was already pleading for mercy!  But, despite the pain, he enjoyed the massage almost as much as I did.  Afterwards, they gave us a few minutes to lay there before we got up and got dressed.  Neither of us could move.  The aromatherapy, the candles, the music.  It was all too much.  I was pretty sure that elevator had taken us straight up to heaven.  Luckily, the reality we then had to go back to was nothing to fret about.


We went up to our rooms and relaxed a little while watching a movie about Judy Garland.  And then we decided to take a little road trip.  David had seen a little blip on the map, representing a lake, so we decided to head up to Banyoles and check it out.  We were not disappointed.

As soon as we arrived we found a little bar right on the edge of the lake.  I saw a sign for cheap mojitos and new it was meant to be.  They ended up being the best ones we had ever tasted!  (Except maybe for Sonia and Manuel's.)

After our drinks, we decided to take a walk along the lake.  Being from Michigan, you wouldn't really expect lakes to impress me all that much.  But being from Michigan, I'm not really accustomed to seeing lakes flanked my mountains.  The combination is breathtaking and creates an atmosphere more serene that I could have ever imagined!

 

All along the lakeshore, there were these tiny abandoned houses where people used to dock their boats.  When I saw this one, I immediately fell in love.  I instantly wanted the deed to this little place.  Can you imagine having this as your writing space?  I just know I could gush out a whole novel in one sitting if these were my surroundings.

As we entered the town, it became clear that there was some sort of sporting event going on.  As we neared a large park, we caught the final phase of a triathlon.  It must have been a tense one, because before long we were dodging an ambulance on its way to treat a participant.  Minutes later a helicopter swooped in and landed right next to the track to rush the patient off to the hospital!  It was a truly surreal thing to witness!

 

After that little incident, the walk back to the car was quiet and relaxing.  All and all, the excursion was a perfect follow-up to our day at the Spa. But soon we would need dinner.  So we decided to make our way back towards the hotel.  Right by the car, we found this sign and decided to honor our brief stay here with a photographic farewell.

The route we ended up taking to get back ran right through the city center of Girona.  Just to give you an understanding, We live in Barcelona, which is part of the Autonomous Community of Cataluña.  Cataluña is broken up into four provinces: Barcelona (in the middle, on the coast), Tarragona (also on the coast, to the south), Girona (to the north, on the coast as well), and Lérida (to the west of Barcelona).  Each province has a capital of the same name.  All of the places we visited this past weekend were to the north, in the province of Girona.  But now I am talking about the city.


David and I had come up to the city of Girona once before, for a flower festival.  I fell in love with it.  It's charm is so unique and the lifestyle here is palpable.  It's not an enormous city like Barcelona, but it's just big enough.  The vibrant medieval neighborhood gives it a truly romantic air while the quirky riverside denotes an authentic European metropolis.


Now that I'm looking at photos and reflecting on that festival, I'm realizing how badly I want to blog about it!  But just to give you a sneak peak, here are a couple of photos from that day!

WOW, right!  Just wait until you see the photos from the festival.  This place is MAGIC.  And, as it turns out, it's just as spectacular at night.  

We decided to stop and eat here.  We were wondering through this trendy, old neighborhood when it dawned on David that his old co-worker's parents owned a restaurant nearby.  We asked a waitress who'd just stepped outside for a cigarette if she knew where Artusi, the restaurant in question, might be.  Low and behold, it was just around the corner!  The ambience in the restaurant was divine and the food was absolutely exquisite!  It was an ideal date night, made even better by the fact that it wasn't even planned!


An hour later, after a drive far darker than we're used to these days, we arrived at the hotel.  I wanted to party long into the night, but David had sleep on his mind.  This was probably a good thing, since we had a long day ahead of us!  A day, I'm afraid, I'll have to explain in Part Two.  I can't believe how long it's taken me just to get here!  I'm sure you'll need a break too, but check back soon to hear about the wonderful medieval villages and exotic rock islands we discovered in the conclusion of our fabulous weekend that we somehow managed to cram into a single weekend!

Surprise! Pt. 1

It's the evening of February 6th, 2011. I'm watching TV on the couch, where I've spent most of the day due to a lingering hangover from the bachelors' party the night before. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. I'm too dazed to notice that David has been washing the few dishes we'd used for dinner for a suspicious amount of time, so when he asks me to answer it, I hesitantly comply.

I look and feel disgusting and I'm not at all in the mood to tell the crazy, old lady who lives one building over that this is not, in fact, her apartment. I look through the peep hole, totally intending to ignore the situation if it is her. That's strange. All I see is... nothing. Someone is blocking the peephole. Naturally, my first reaction is "HOLY SHIT BALLS THEY WANT TO ROB US!". David is already coming around the corner, telling me to open the door. Finally, I do, but placing myself behind the door and David in plain sight of the potential axe murderer. Seconds pass, and neither him or the mystery guest say anything. David gestures for me to look, so I do. This is where my brain fries.

There are three figures standing in the doorway. My cousin Shelly is standing closest to me in the middle, but my mind can't process that at first, so it focuses on Sonia and Manuel, our cousins, standing behind her. My eyes bounce back to Shelly... and then back to Sonia and Manuel. As my brain fails to react to the situation, my body steps up. Apparently (and as you can see in the video below) my jaw drops as soon as I see Shelly. I'm talking and hugging as the pieces start frantically trying to force themselves together, but it seems like they're all from different puzzles.

The thing is, I was in 100% pure shock. Later, everyone told me that they were expecting and hoping that I would cry. But the thing is, how can you cry when you're not really there? I couldn't even make sense of the situation. With all of that shock and confusion, there's no room for emotion! Your brain just doesn't have the capacity!

It was hours before what had happened finally started to sink in in steady waves. I liked it that way. Imagine getting one of the best surprises of your life. Now imagine instead of having that surprise served to you at one fell swoop, having it dished out little by little over the course of several hours. Each time, it's heaven.

The excitement, along with the celebratory champagne... and then wine... gave us enough energy to stay up pretty late. I didn't want to go to bed, for fear of waking up and having it all been a dream. Plus I was just so damn excited to be sitting on my couch in Barcelona with one of my best friends in the world!

Have you ever had one of those mornings where you wake up from an incredibly realistic dream in which something amazing had happened only to be severely disappointed when reality sets in? Well the morning after was the opposite of one of those mornings. Shelly was staying in my home in Barcelona, and I had only had hours to process the idea! I was tired but excited to take her out into my world.

We checked out Las Ramblas and La Boquería market. Then we couldn't resist heading to the beach.

We settled on a nice little restaurant I like in Barceloneta. There we caught up while sipping sangría and enjoying some tapas. I'm so glad Shelly decided to go back to eating Seafood for the duration of the trip. Not doing so would be a travesty here in Barcelona where the seafood is so fresh and the tapas are to die for!

"Shelly, you're in Spain!" became the catchphrase of the day. There's something so special about having your friends experience Europe for the first time in your own city. There is something even more special about having someone you love make such a trek to be part of your wedding!

We spent a good amount of time over the next couple days wandering through the city, especially in the shopping district. Shelly was looking for a new dress to wear to the wedding. We made time to go on a run by the river Besós, which passes near my apartment. Shelly was concerned about halting her marathon training, so I humored her. I didn't manage the distance she's used to, but I think I did alright! Unfortunately my legs killed me for the next two days.

As the wedding week quickly came to its end, Shelly did an exceptional job of calming both David's and my nerves. I don't know what I would have done without her!

Come Thursday, I was smacked with a whole new surprise. A surprise, that is, for another post! Let's hope it doesn't take me three months to write that one!

Two Bachelors: One Party

David and I sat on the terrace, sipping wine and anxiously awaiting company. It was already half-past the time by which the "anonymous" voice had instructed us to be ready. The downtime was starting to get the best of us. It finally set in that in less than week, we would be married. I silently reflected on the months of planning that had lead up to this week. Tears flooded my eyes as I thought of how this "small, informal" event had transformed itself into what was to be our one and only big day. I explained to David through restrained sobs what had just occurred to me. In the beginning it was okay that I was doing this on my own. But now that it had become a big deal, I wasn't okay at all. The thought of going forward without the most important women in my life, the women who had been there for me through so much wouldn't be there for me when I needed them most. "I need Shelly or my mom or somebody here!" I plead. And then I quietly tried to make peace with the impossibility of this notion.

The "Cubelles group", all sporting penis hats, marched into our tiny apartment like a small—albeit loud—army. Gerard, Mark, Gloria, Edu, Elena, Cristina and Jordi gathered around our Ikea coffee table and began setting up a game that they had crafted themselves. We were informed that we had an itinerary to stick to. A truly eventful night was set in motion.

Lambrusco and an assortment of liquor was poured into cups and shot glasses as we picked our pieces and began a Peter & David-themed game: a hybrid of Chutes and Ladders, Cranium, Trivial Pursuit, Truth & Dare and every drinking game I've ever played. It was a race to get to the end of the board, that is: the wedding!

In good bachelor party spirit, this segment of the night was not without a few humiliating moments caught on film.

Before we could even complete the game, we moved onto a photo montage video they had put together. And then it was time for a second, less complicated game. This one was more my style. We were handed a giant box filled with newspaper, confetti and an assortment of small, wrapped gifts. Elena read off a number and then a "clue". We would then find the corresponding present and open it.

Before I forget, I have to explain the glorious accessory you see on David's head in these photos. A week or two prior, David and I were watching Sex and the City: The Movie. We had been hitting the wine pretty hard (as we're apt to do whenever Carrie Bradshaw is involved) and David turned to me to say "I want a bird for my wedding". He was, of course, referring to the blue headpiece that Carrie wore to her first and unsuccessful wedding. He made me promise I would find one. Well, I couldn't, so I had to settle for making one. He didn't know what to think when I handed him this deranged-looking concoction just hours before the party. Quickly, though, he began to wear it with pride!

Anyway, the gifts ranged from the mildly embarrassing to extremely thoughtful. We couldn't help but gorge on some cookies one of the boxes contained as we completed our task.

Before we knew it, we were late! For what? We had no idea, but we were ushered to the Metro where a third and final game was played. Drinks still in hand (God bless Barcelona!), we each had a notecard with a word or expression attached to our forehead, all of which had to do with our wedding. From there, to the delight of the fellow commuters, we went around in a circle asking questions in order to guess what word we were assigned.

Needless to say, it was a blast.

As we neared our stop, David and I were blind-folded. Our friends ushered us (an experience I will never forget as I was lead into several obstacles "by accident"), to our final destination. We were greeted by some "mystery guests", who were instantly identified as our cousins, Sonia and Manuel. They gave us a mini makeover while still blindfolded, and carefully maneuvered us into the location.

Obviously I wasn't pleased with said makeover. The surprise location was a VIP table at a swank restaurant with an impressive drag queen show! The dinner was great, the entertainment was better and the conversation was just to die for! We even had a great photo opp with Lady Gaga!

Well, through my drunken haze I suppose she was a bit more convincing. The host of the evening made "her" rounds, embarrassing the guests of honor at each VIP table. David seemed nervous to me as "she" interrogated us in the spotlight. Apparently, he was nervous, as he answered "America" when asked where we were going on our honeymoon. Lucky for him, I didn't remember that detail until he reminded me of it a week and a half later in Michigan! But now I vividly remember my crawling suspicion!

After dinner, we migrated to a popular gay nightclub where the party continued. It was seriously a bachelors' party to be envied, and I thank everyone that had a hand in it! My only wish is that they would have been there the next day to help clean up all the confetti that David had intelligently decided to toss all over the apartment!

All That Jazz

"Some friends come into your life for a reason, others only for a season." There are many quotes floating around to that effect. But what's really funny is when when of those "seasonal" friends, someone you somehow had mistaken for a mere acquaintance, swoops back into the picture and claims a permanent residence in your heart.

Beth and I both studied Apparel Merchandising & Design at university. We were around each other pretty frequently and even did one or two group projects together. When I was interviewing for my former job in Columbus, I initially called up Beth to see if I could stay with her, as she was already an employee there. Something came up, and I ended up turning to another CMU alum, Megan—a serendipitous twist that ignited one of the most meaningful friendships in my life thus far!

Despite our miss, Beth still popped in and out of the picture over the course of my C-Bus days. She was always welcome, livening up any social gathering with her infectious smile and unwavering charisma. As we said goodbye at my going away party in Columbus, I kind of thought that would be the last I would see of Beth. Nope!

Beth had some vacation accumulated and was toying with the idea of taking a trip to see Spain. I was flattered that she'd even factor me in to her first European vacation, and started preparing ideas for how I could make her stay as pleasant as possible. Every time I talked to her in the months leading up to it, she was so excited. I was equally excited. Someone from my world was coming to this one! I could speak English all the time again, even laying on the American slang as thick as my heart could desire! Finally, the day came! Beth was in Barcelona!

Here I am, Spain!

David and I could not have asked for a better houseguest, or a better tourist for that matter. We did our best to balance enriching cultural experiences with just plain fun. The whole time, she was along for the ride, soaking it all in and leaving her impression on whomever she met. She still comes up in conversation with our family and friends here on a regular basis! (Also,since she's left I've heard "all that jazz", one of her catchphrases, uttered from the mouth of my now husband more times than I can count!)

Taking our friendship to a whole new continent!

Not many girls could look this happy swimming in a sea of gay men!

Figuring out how to drink from the damn fountain.

Bonding in our own... special way.

Beth was so excited to experience a new country, and I was so excited for a taste of the familiar that I don't think either of us was prepared for what would inevitably be the biggest and best part of the whole thing. We might have been acquaintances going into this incredible shared experience, but coming out of it we are most definitely real, quality friends. It was sad to see her go, tears were shed even, but the truth is that the unmistakable mark she left on David and me has yet to fade. I have a feeling that before it does, she'll be back.

Barcelona misses you, Beth!

Autumn Indoors

I think pretty much everybody has a favorite season. I think artists, especially, have a certain time of year they spend the rest of the year looking forward to, a season that brings them more inspiration than the rest. Since I can remember, I've been undecided between Summer and Autumn. Summer has the sun, the beach and its long, warm nights. Fall has, well, fall fashion, bonfires, Halloween, and the most vibrant scenery of all the seasons. I'm particularly fond of the latter, which is why the arrival of fall this year has me a little bummed out.

I was recently stunned to learn that Barcelona is latitudinally comparable to Southern Massachusetts. The Mediterranean climate, however, prevents the leaves from ever actualizing their exquisitely colorful potential. Instead, we just get a sort of dull brown-green shade sprinkling the parks and lining the streets (in addition to the always green palms that are perhaps more abundant to begin with).

This morning I woke up to a bit of a mess that I don't plan on cleaning up anytime soon. For the Halloween party that David and I threw in Columbus last year (in September, mind you), we bought a pack of fake autumn leaves. David was so in love with them that he took them back to Spain with him. When we unpacked the Halloween decorations this year, he spread the leaves all over the table. Naturally, with a kitten in the house, they wound up littering the floors of just about every room.

It's amazing that I didn't even ASK him to pose for these.

Anyway, it seems pretty trifle, but since I spend so much time alone in my apartment these days, it's nice to have one of my favorite parts of the outdoors come inside. It's amazing how something so simple can bring so much joy and inspiration!

Oh! Why am I alone in my apartment these days? David got a job! Sorry I haven't mentioned that yet, I just don't really believe in posts that solely consist of "this happened". Boring.

So anyway, that's what happened! (o_O)

Cleaning up Nature's Mess

Over the past week, Spain has witnessed some crazy weather. Floods have devastated several communities. Barcelona and other places that didn't see quite that much rain have been smitten with destructive winds.

The wind really got out of hand the night before last. We could here it rattling who knows what all night long. Not long after waking up, a huge gust flew in through the door we keep cracked so that the cat has access to his litter box. Across the room, a frame that holds some awesome Buffy artwork from my cousin Shelly instantly fell from where it had been leaning against the wall. David tried to carefully remove it from where it teetered on the edge of the cabinet, but a large shard fell from the frame, smashing on the floor below it.

The letter S was the unfortunate one

We quickly closed the door before anything else could be destroyed... inside the apartment, at least.

Before I came to Spain, David attached some privacy panels all along the railing of our terrace.

See the yellow things there?

Just fifteen minutes after the cleanup of our first little disaster, David watched as the wind ripped one of these panels from the railing. We called his parents, with whom we were to be meeting shortly, in order to delay our plans. We used the ties that had "secured" the panel to reinforce the remaining three.

After lunch we headed to the store where both victims had been purchased. On the way, we passed our apartment and noticed that, CRAP, another panel had broken. We purchased two of the thicker and hopefully much stronger alternative, and headed back to the apartment, where, CRAP, a third had bit the dust.

David is busy prepping for an interview tomorrow, and the wind hasn't completely resided, so we haven't gotten the new panels up yet. As we live on the seventh floor, our cat is now quarantined in the house. We just don't feel all that confident in his... er... astuteness, and believe it would be a matter of hours before curiosity quite literally killed the cat. His litter box remains on the balcony, where we've put the best barrier we could craft to prevent him from going beyond it. He can still jump it, though, so he has to be constantly monitored during potty time. He's great at cueing us to let him out with his not-so-subtle whining/meowing. The only problem is that most of the time he wants to go out, it's not to go to the bathroom, but rather, to annoy us. What is it with cats and closed doors?

Overwhelmed with the money we had to spend on replacing damaged goods, and the time we've spent and have yet spend resolving the matter, I said to David, "You know what? I really don't mind taking care of problems that I caused, or problems that you caused, or even problems that the cat caused... but dealing with shit that the WIND caused? That's just not tolerable." Seriously. Thanks a lot, wind!

First Quarterly

In the company I previously worked for, every three months the CEO would round up the troops for an event that was equal parts financial progress report and high school pep assembly. I thought that for my blog, I would try to do the same, only without the free beer and half-naked male models chucking T-shirts into the crowd. (Yes, it was professionalism at its finest!)

The fact that this post comes a week after the actual three month anniversary of my arrival is a clever tribute to the tardiness that has become so typical to this blog. Bullshit, you call? Alright, fine.

So, where does one begin in trying to recap three of the most significant and eventful months of one's life? Hm, let's try to break this down to make it a little bit easier on me. The four aspects of my life that are most important, or at least that I spend most of my time thinking about lately are as follows:

1. Location
2. Language
3. Labor
4. Love

Alright, so we have our four L's. And so I shall set forth and begin with the first, this lovely city that I've begun to call home. Barcelona.

Location

Three summers ago, I took out a hefty amount of student loans to finance my first excursion to Europe. Two months were to be spent in Barcelona where I would intern for a pair of independent fashion designers. For the rest of the summer, I would attend a course at the Paris American Academy.

Being a fashion student and a person that watches movies, I was extremely excited about spending a month in Paris. I obsessed over it. I wasn't, however, exceptionally anxious to visit Barcelona. I had seen many photos of the city, but nothing had invoked too much enthusiasm. It was merely an opportunity for me to knock off the internship requirement for my degree and work on getting my Spanish back up to par. My first days in Spain, boy did things change.

It was love at first sight. The city had an energy to it. It was like we were on the same wavelength. The architecture inspired me so much. The beauty here is gritty, gorgeous in a dark, odd and truly unique way. It has mountains, the beach, a vibrant nightlife, it oozes culture, everything I believed a city was meant to offer. Before I knew it I was wishing the two months would drag on forever, Paris could wait. I expressed in my journal a strong desire to come back someday, and make it my home.

The city must have heard my plea. One serendipitous night, after a twisted series of events, I found myself on a dance floor, separated from my friends and face to face with a gorgeous Spaniard with whom I'd eventually ask to marry. I loved the city and in return it blessed me with a modern fairy tale.

So now I live here. Weird right? Well to be honest, it really isn't anymore. There was no sudden shift, it's just something that's happened gradually, but when I think to myself, "I live in Barcelona", it doesn't spark any emotion, any shock. It's just another fact.

In ways I suppose the city has lost some of its allure, but that's just the natural process of things. The honeymoon phase is only enthralling because it is temporary. Perspective changes with experience. But what I love about any great city is its ability to surprise you at any moment by making you feel the magic once again. All of the wonder that turned me on to this place is all still here, waiting for its opportunity to leave me speechless all over again.

I could go on and on about the city itself, but a lot of the thoughts I would like to share will find themselves in the post I plan to write later this week, about my trip to Madrid. Meeting the capital provided a whole new perspective on my new home, and cemented in the sense of familiarity I finally feel for Barcelona.

Language

Ugh. Spanish.

The above thought goes through my head in various incarnations on a daily basis. Don't even get me started on Catalán.

Ugh. Catalán.

Seriously, this language is everywhere! It's in all the signs on the streets. It's spoken in the subway. It possesses half the TV networks. It's seriously out to get me. Sure, it's the official language of Cataluña, of which Barcelona is the capital, but I just can't deal with it yet. I'm struggling to grasp Spanish as it is, and here I am unintentionally accumulating a cache of a whole other vocabulary. It's all been very... frustrant.

Back to Ugh. Spanish. As most of you know, I'm a lover of language. I love playing with words and expressing myself in unique ways. I suppose I'm just a writer. In Spanish, I'm the opposite. I'm a fool. I have a very rudimentary vocabulary, which means I'm often redundant. Pair that with my flawed grammar and pronunciation and I imagine I come off like, well, a four-year old... with a mild mental retardation.

I suppose I'm coming along alright. There are two parts to learning a foreign language as far as I'm concerned: comprehension (understanding when others speak) and composition (the ability to express yourselves to others by forming sentences all by yourself). In comprehension, I am improving fairly rapidly. It just doesn't feel like it. I suppose a child with a serious growth spurt doesn't really notice as he sprouts six inches over the course of six months. Some changes are only recognized from a more distant and infrequent perspective. I'm getting desperate to understand everything. As I begin to feel more at home it's becoming more frustrating. How can one be so handicapped in his own city?

Composition is another story. All of that perfect grammar is in this brain somewhere. Spanish was my minor, and I learned how it all works over and over in numerous classes. So where did it all go? Sometimes I feel like the more comfortable I become with speaking, the more flawed my speech becomes. It's like, I don't think as hard while forming sentences anymore, therefore I'm more prone to errors. It's a cruel trade-off. Basically, if I don't start to feel some improvement soon, I'm gonna have to go back to the books. Again I say ugh.

Though I complain, pretty much every one I meet tells me how impressed they are with my Spanish. I eat up every word of it, too, not out of a lust for complements, but to combat the serious insecurities my frequent shortcomings provide. Sometimes I find myself just wanting somebody to tell me, "Hey, you will finally be a fully fluent speaker six months from now, don't worry!" and then I can rest easy. Be it six months or two years, knowing that it will happen makes it a little easier. It will happen, right?

Labor

I've been having this reoccurring dream. I'm in class and it's nearing the end of the semester. We receive a report card of sorts, and I discover that I'm failing the class. Then it gets worse. I realize that I'm failing more classes, classes that I'd simply forgotten about and hadn't attended for months. I have no time to get these grades up and I am surely not going to be able to graduate.

The situation, the location, the classmates, all of these details change. But that wretched feeling in my gut isconsistent through all of its incarnations. Finally, after having had the dream three nights in a row, I looked it up in various online dream dictionaries. Here's more or less what all of them had to say:

To dream that you forgot to attend a class you signed up for implies that you feel incompetent and that you will not achieve success in your endeavors. You may doubt your talents, or skills to meet deadlines and obligations.

Since I was five years old I have not spent this long of a period of time without either academic obligation or work. My life has always had structure, and to a certain extent, I've always been aware of and striving for "the next step". Right now, I'm kind of an anomaly. I can't join the workforce, not legally. I saved money for this exact reason, and everything is working out for the meantime. But as a not completely lazy human being, I'm not designed to handle this much downtime. It was heaven at first, but obviously, as the dreams imply, it's starting to weigh on my mind.

All of this free time and I haven't even worked on my book or even properly maintained my blog. I haven't touched my professional portfolio since I've been here. I haven't even pursued any of the things I always wanted to but never had the time for, e.g., learning to play the piano. Granted, I have been keeping busy. David and I have been enjoying making up for the time together that we lost over the previous nine months. We've done a fair bit of traveling, which often requires a fair amount of resting afterwards. But summer is over now, and so shall be my vacation. It's time to start dreaming of something else.

In the next couple weeks, I'll start planning for my next book. While David is sending out his résumé every which way and attending interviews, I'll get started on my digital portfolio. I've even already begun to contact people about tutoring English, which could actually eventually provide a decent source of income if I manage my time correctly. Throughout my life, I've often felt like others believed in me more than I believe in myself. But the times, they are a changing, and I along with them. It's about time to prove them right and myself wrong.

I'm in a very exciting chapter of my life, one in which I'm trying desperately to recall my own identity. This is made an even more difficult task due to the fact that my current situation and surroundings are causing me to change at a rapid pace. So how does one get to know himself at the same time that that self is evolving constantly? All I can say is: not gracefully! But I'll take a life that resembles a jerky, speedy and surprising roller coaster ride over the smooth, slow and predictable ferris wheel ride one day.

Love

Still going strong! David's and my relationship is a truly unique case. I know all relationships have their obstacles, but man! We've still spent way more time apart than together. Most of our relationship has involved a webcam. So much so, that when we were finally reunited this time around, it was somewhat... awkward. What had seemed like such a burden (our Macbooks serving as an intermediary) had become a sort of comfort, without which we both didn't know what to do! Thankfully and without much surprise, we got over it quickly. It's truly an experience you can't comprehend unless you've lived it, and I know not many couples have.

When I proposed to David, despite a lengthy and complicated precursor to a relationship, we had only been "boyfriends" for about two months. Some of my friends thought I was crazy, sure, until they met him. Suddenly everything flipped upside down and they would be making me promise not to hurt him! What we both knew and felt inside transmits beyond us to our friends and family. Despite very distinct backgrounds, we're a match. It's easy to see that we just... fit.

Every relationship has its ups and downs... its hiccups. Ours is no exception. Prior to our reunion, we'd both spent nine months desperately obsessing over the end of seemingly endless tunnel. All we could focus on, despite the best attempts of our loved ones to drag us out of our despair, was the conclusion, the one that would grant us limitless happiness. But like I mentioned before, the honeymoon can't last forever! As could have been expected, once the ecstatic intoxication began to wear off, we were both faced with a question that neither of us were prepared for: now what?

David and I changed a lot over the time we were apart. I hadn't really changed for the better. I had become pretty negative, and for what seemed at the time like good reason. But here I was, exactly where I had longed to be, and so the reason was gone. The acquired mentality, however, was difficult to shake. Culture shock can be a bitch all on its own, but pair that with the anxiety over maintaining a perfect relationship and a perfect state of mind when it is no longer in your nature... let's just say it became overwhelming. I began to close myself off, afraid that my internal fears would taint the relationship we'd fought so hard to preserve. And we all know what happens when your emotions get all bottled up. It was a dark couple of weeks for me. But it all worked out in the end, as it usually does when something is meant to.

Open communication. The trick to any healthy, successful relationship. David and I speak to each other like best friends, sharing everything. It's not good to wallow, but if you don't acknowledge your personal demons, you can't expect them to go away. In the relatively small time David and I have been together, he's proven to me over and over that he can help me, more than any other person ever could before. I can tell him anything and everything, and he always has what it takes to make me feel better, be it words or just an expression of understanding.

Sometimes we frustrate each other, which I suppose is normal. But most of the time we have an absolute ball! I had missed our evenings together so much. Any random night can feel like a party, even if it's just the two of us.

When I look back to that awful goodbye kiss in the airport almost one year ago, when I recall that gut-wrenching feeling like someone was tearing me in two in the most painful way imaginable; I know that neither of us will ever be able to let the other go again. Life is just better together.

So there you have it, the reality of it all. Life isn't perfect. Ever. Period. But it can be, in general, so damn good that it's hard to believe. Sure, it won't seem like it at all times, but it really just boils down to perspective. The perspective I choose to hold right now, in this moment, is that a handsome prince has rescued me and carried me away to live in his magical kingdom where I've been blessed with the opportunity to start my life over with endless possibilities. I suppose I really am in a modern fairy tale after all!