Countdown To Camp

Remember those scars I got from summer camp last year?
Yeah, I decided to go back and get some more.
I've got some explaining to do.

I ♥ Lost

SO.FRICKIN.MUCH.

About A Boar

dean a. says: bueno, i'm gonna head on out... i'm starving, and figure i have to eat something before the Lost finale party so I don't devour everything in sight

trav! says: k

dean a. says: ps, I think stefan and erin are going to bring board

dean a. says: i mean, BOAR

trav! says: ?

dean a. says: get it? cuz it's on the island

dean a. says: boar is a wild pig

dean a. says: with tusks and everything

trav! says: right, they are bringing a boar?

dean a. says: stefan's crazy and erin's rich

trav! says: and who is going to take care of it when they are trashed drunk and the boar is shitting all over everything?

dean a. says: i know you're joking

dean a. says: tell me you're joking

dean a. says: a boar TO EAT

dean a. says: a DEAD boar, a cooked boar

trav! says: oh

dean a. says: I think stefan's making boar enchiladas

What I'm Doing Right Now

Eating a 7 month old cereal that Cathy's mum left when she visited.

What I will be doing in a few hours?
Dying from old cereal poisoning, I'm guessing.

Weekend Recap

The sun came out and the streets boiled. I tried to spend most of the weekend eating in establishments with air conditioning and avoiding the slow broil of my living room. Really, with the windows closed and curtains drawn to prevent the volcanic air from entering, the entire living room is set to 350ºF. Seeking refreshment, I took students to the bar on Friday and spent the rest of the weekend drinking tinto de verano, a drink with red wine and orange soda that you can pretend is just juice, but that may inhibit your ability to stand up later.

I also had a preparation meeting for the summer camp, which I'm repeating this year. Due to the fact that Leaders Number One and Two are both unable to continue this year, I've been promoted to English Language Coordinator. Under normal circumstances, this would entail a lot of hard work in preparation for camp, but the girl I'm taking over for has yet to relinquish control and is doing everything for me. I'm not really complaining, but hey, am I supposed to coordinate something at some point? Just checking.

People I See On A Near-Daily Basis & Have Never Met

1. Shuffles McPimp. (See previous entry)

2. Girl, late teens. Curly blonde hair. She has walked past me since October every Tuesday and Thursday and has yet to acknowledge me, which makes me stare even harder at her. Why would you willfully ignore me?

3. Woman, early 30s. She looks like a Spanish Tori Amos. She watches me out of the corner of her eyes.

4. Boy, early teens. Reads a book EVERY SINGLE DAY, waiting for his schoolbus and sitting on the steps of the dry cleaners.

5. Child, 9 or 10 & Woman, late 20s. The South American nanny waits at the same bus stop with the little white boy. He is abnormally excited at 7:45 a.m. and #4 sometimes gives him dirty glances.

6. Woman, early 20s. Most likely an American. At 8:30 a.m., she is the height of fashion. She alternates her Dior bag with her Vuitton, her giant bug-eye sunglasses always matching. Where does she go so early in the morning? Is there any way that she's going to teach English like that?

7. Man, 40s. Scary. Long hair, multiple piercings, and sometimes with a cut-off T-shirt. He always has on sunglasses.

8. Man, 40s. Handing out small flyers for a restaurant I will never go to. I have received approximately 800 of these flyers and immediately throw them away. Stop giving them to me, do you really think I'm going to eat falafel at 9:30 in the morning?

9. Woman, early 20s. Again, I assume she's American. With me as we attempt to swim through the soul-sucking crowd to get onto a bus to take us to company classes in the outskirts of Madrid. She always seems just a little sad and tired.

Shuffle, Step, Shuffle

He's got really thick glasses. When he shifts his gaze from his feet to his surroundings, he looks like a fish. He opens his mouth and closes it intermittently, blowing bubbles of nonsense words. He mutters to himself a bit. I see this man nearly everyday; he walks up and down my street. He's obviously very old and has some severe physical problem which limits his ability to take a full step, so instead he sort of shuffles, dragging his feet a bit and taking tiny, toddler-like steps. I've never timed him, but it must take him an hour to walk my little road, whereas it takes me less than a minute. He always wears a coat and looks prepetually prepared for Sunday Mass, a throwback to a different era in Spain. He seems fragile yet tough, someone who won't give up no matter the difficulties.

I was therefore a little surprised to find him yesterday sitting on the bench.
Smoking a cigar.

Keep on shuffling, pimp.