Some of my hair is blue, I have a masters degree and I confirmed that I don’t like yoga and do love netflix. I still drink wine almost every day, because it’s cultural and I finally read a book for pleasure. I’m also going to be making a “real person” salary soon, but not soon enough. I guess that’s the summary of my year and it seems pretty bleak considering all of these things minus the wine drinking happened in the last two weeks of it.

I could tell you more about yoga but what annoying “writer” hasn’t written a blog post about a yoga class. Having an experience. It was crazy, it was funny, the characters- really. Experience your way into this pose. Feel your heart. Feel your shoulder blades. Ignore see through stretch pants woman, don’t get startled by sharp teacher yoga breaths. Figure out what any of it means and you won’t be napping on the mat while everyone else is cross legged in praying pose (I don’t know the official name).

Or I could tell you I was inspired to write this post because of some brat in an elevator commenting on a receipt that had the date written in the “European way” and she remarked to her older brother “you mean the logical way”. I just about died. She was also in the yoga class. Of course. It is so logical, but don’t act all high and mighty. I am more than looking forward to going back to Spain because I miss so many things, and the way that they write the date wasn’t one that initially popped into my brain, but I’ll take it. I did also already consider my big cup of ice water that I was drinking out in my back yard and how I chose to eat lunch over the course of an hour but it was at one p.m, oh the earliness of it.

I made a tortilla the other day for dinner and flipped the thing while letting all thoughts rush out of my brain, like the gooey yolk layer still at the top, and it worked and it was delicious. My dad says I’ll never lose my touch. As if it makes me ‘more Spanish’. But I had only just remembered this skill of mine as the anniversary of my leaving Spain approached. I came back this time last year to start the AUSL program. Flung back into the American school systems and large watery cups of coffee on long dark commutes-both ways. Please don’t wash my windshield sir, and dear lord how did I not just run over the 20 + people that casually embark on conversational journeys in the pot hole filled streets.

I guess my year does have a lot more to it when I really reflect, but I was too busy to do much of that. I think some parts I’d rather not remember and even the parts I’d rather not remember and yet still do are “funny” now. It’s all worth it.

I’m going back to Spain mid July. This time as a vacationer, a visitor. I don’t have to teach anyone English but I do have to figure out how I am going to stay cool and stylish. I might burst into tears at my new role. I envy so many of my friends that remained there this year and will remain indefinitely.

In my interview for AUSL I was asked something along the lines of, ‘are you sure you’re ready for this, convince me that you are…’ I was kind of feeling like Elaine in that Seinfeld episode when she knows there is no way she is getting the job so I don’t think I knew what I was talking about when I said ‘I just know that this is the time for me to do this, no other time.’ I still don’t know if I was right, but I can’t imagine myself anywhere else right now. Then I had a nice little thought of myself about twenty years down the road. I had taught and was somehow a wise professor and a writer and I got to be in Spain just writing and being wise.  I never want to do this year over, but I think it will take me to where I want to go.




Shamrock shuffle. Hardly an aside that I became a runner...but I kinda did.

Shamrock shuffle. Hardly an aside that I became a runner…but I kinda did.

Make my hair blue, I don't care if you mess up. Radical rebel.

Make my hair blue, I don’t care if you mess up. 



With my mentor at AUSL graduation.

With my mentor at AUSL graduation.




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