a weekend from march, not blogged before

This has been one of the most entertaining, aesthetically pleasing weekends I've had in a long time. It began on Friday with a fabulous exhibit
in my local shopping mall of world class female artists (Frida Kahlo, Lee Miller, Lempicke, Claude Cahun and so many more)and progressed from there.

At 03.30 in the morning, I was just about to go to sleep when I received an odd but very complimentary text from an unknown number. "Eres una bonita flor de invierno. Si quieres, te invito a comer." (You are a beautiful winter flower, if you wish, I'd like to buy you dinner.).

I grinned. Probably some drunk Spanish Romeo with a wrong number- but how delightful! I responded with,
"Well, thank you very much...but who are you?".
him: "Your platonic love."
me: "I have a lot of platonic loves. Do you have a name?"
him: "You are the little red riding hood of my forest."
me: "...and you are the mystery of my night."
him: "You are an exquisite bonbon, the heavens and the most beautiful rose."
me: - mildly irritated but fascinated by the texts which now include a word I don't know (caperucita "Little Red Riding Hood)
him: "...and will you agree to dine with me?"
me: "but how will I know you?"
him: "only come, you will know me."
me: "Ok, if you will not tell me who you are, then tell me who I am."
him: "An American girl, charming and cheerful, beautiful and full of energy. I'm Jose. Tell me yes or no."

-Now, I was thinking that I knew perhaps 4 men named Jose that I didn't think had my phone number. I thought of one more, that I felt instinctively that it might be...and was his name Jose? Couldn't say. He's the sommelier at one of our favourite restaurants and although he rarely ever speaks more than hello and goodbye to me, once came running out of the restaurant, and halfway down the block distressed that I hadn't said goodbye. This was much to the bewilderment of the entire group of friends I was with. I was also shocked- I didn't even know he knew my name, let alone that he was upset I hadn't said goodbye. Hmm...it's a family restaurant and one of the sons has a cooking show called "Para Comerte Mejor" (all the better to eat you). Yes, must be him...but WHY text me at 3.30am 2 months after the last time we saw each other (because I ate in his restaurant)??

I agreed to meet him. After all- a free lunch is always welcome and no matter how it went- I figured that it was an interesting story either way. He took me to a rather expensive restaurant. The lunch cost a minimum of 100 euros. The thing I couldn't figure is that his body language was very odd- as if to say, "Right, well, since I asked I'll have lunch with you but I'm not really sure what to do nor am I interested in finding out more about you or talking...except that I suppose I must." That said, we DID talk (although granted I carried the topics and asked the questions) and in fact lunch lasted for several hours. In the end, he walked me to the metro because I was going to the opera and gave me to two kisses goodbye, then looked at me, grabbed me dramatically by the shoulders and pulled me to him, where he pressed his closed lips against mine, TWICE and then turned abruptly with an "Ok, see you." and left without a backward glance.

Something in his manner inclines me to think that he's never going to call again- but then again I'm not sure why he called me the first time.

Ten minutes later...

Elena, Cesar, Jen and I met my flatmate in line for the opera, only to be chased away by shockingly aggressive old ladies in furs, angered because only one of our group had waited since 17.30 (5.30pm)and the rest of us were NOT WELCOME in front of her. We decided that it would be folly to try and get in- the old women would likely attack us, so we went to the nearby Van Gogh Cafe for a drink. An hour later, we headed to another jazz bar and had good fun drinking Brazilian drinks I can never remember the name of and CesarSamurai bought the three of us roses. (He's a darling man). (see below pics)


Jen was wearing this- and I couldn't stop playing with the holes.


Fabulous cosy head shot of Elena (ignore Jen and I sword fighting with our roses in the background)



Jen demonstrating the proper use of a spoon



CJenesar being coy with Jen and Elena



Man with two women (subtitled)



Love and fear in Madrid (Leyn and me)



looking at pics with Jen(I just cut my hair much shorter than it was in London!)


Jen choked up with laughter and wine


Unbelievably...Jen, Elena and I managed to get up this morning and drag ourselves to the Reina Sofia Museum- which is free the first Sunday of the month. We wandered around enjoying Picasso's, ManRays, Dali's and so much more. It was rather brilliant.

:-) I love this country. I love my friends.I love fun surprises. xxxx

the best bits...

I've had a lovely weekend.
Highlights:
1. I saw an exhibit of 430 Picasso works of art at the Reina Sofia Museum. The director of the Picasso Museum in Paris told journalists, 'It is the first time that this many works leave the museum in Paris. You can only stage such an exhibition every 30 or 50 years,'

...and I saw it for free. I love this country.

2. Inadvertently, our Spanish flatmate was planning a dinner party last night, as were my other flatmates. Fortunately, our flat is big enough to create two separate dining areas. I turned the bar into a dining space complete with candles and such and we had a cozy dinner for 5, while in the next room they had a dinner for 10.

I love this flat.

Best conversation:
A friend who had stayed in our guest room, to me upon entering the room to collect her absinthe (she was the only one who had been drinking absinthe the night before).
"Hmm..I might still be drunk," she reflected.
I smiled sympathetically.
"Well, you know...I didn't actually drink that much."
I raised my eyebrow and stifled a grin.
She grabbed the bottle of absinthe, which was down a third. We both looked at the bottle and I stifled a giggle, eyebrow still raised. "Uff, wow, maybe I did," she thought further, "but I wasn't really drunk."
I looked at her and barely contained the laughter.
"Well," she continued,"I mean, I didn't drink all of that. Some of it splashed out when I caught my hand on fire."
I burst out laughing hysterically, "Oh no, you weren't drunk- just caught your hand on fire!"

-it was a priceless moment, glass after glass, she had studiously poured the absinthe over sugar, into the glass with water and lit the spoon on fire while doing so. We were all fascinated and always looked over when she was burning it. So, naturally all of us were watching when suddenly, she jerked, her hand went up in pretty blue flames and she exclaimed, "Oh! ...Shit!" then blew it out. (Please note- her hand was not injured- she had splashed absinthe on it and the alcohol was all that burned.)

Best picture on a profile


Thank you, for this beautiful pic , you have made my day that much brighter. :-)

where is that large automobile?

Do you ever have those moments where you look around and suddenly panic. You think, where am I? How did I get here?
This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife.

I've spent today in bed watching Rome, the series. Last week went well, and I've decided to see about arranging my summer there. I think that the exposure to the particular subculture of guides and gatherers will make for good short stories, so I'm devoting myself to all things Italian and Roman to prepare myself.

The internet went down, so I went down the hall to unplug and plug the wifi in again, and when I walked out the door I felt incredibly discombobulated. I thought, "Where am I? How did I get here?" Sometimes I move so fast that I forget my centre. I've lived in so many places, so many countries and languages and states, and careers and people...

Do I have a car? Travel by Metro? By kayak or swimming? Live on an tropical island? A temperate one? Am I living in the mountains with campesinos? In the jungle? Do I fear the dangers of ice? Will I get icicles inside my nose if I walk outside and breathe? Are my neighbours sharks and turtles? Elephants? Grumpy old Spanish ladies? Do I greet people with "priviet" or "salaam aleikum", or "koba kiheney"? "Buona sera" or "Hola"?

I hate these moments, when I feel like physical reality is only a dim illusion, time doubly so. Nothing is real and all may change in a moment like in a dream.

Nothing to be done, I turn to the Talking Heads .

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful Wife
And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the moneys gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!

Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...

Water dissolving...and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Carry the water at the bottom of the ocean
Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean!

And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right? ...am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
My god!...what have I done?

Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...