Sometimes, Irish I had slept.

November 27th, 2010

Still in Madrid.
Sleep.
I sleep in, but thankfully, Heather is super chill, and we meet 30 minutes after we had agreed on. (My hostel is less than a stone's throw from her apartment.)
Yesterday was long.
We go for breakfast first, because I had missed the complimentary Breakfast, or rather I ducked in at the last minute for a cup of coffee. (The Waitstaff told me, in English 'I'm gunna Kick your ass you come in so late.' I found it amusing.)
At breakfast I have Bailey's and Coffee, expecting Bilbao's small coffee cup (they give you a smaller cup for this usually) with about 1/2 coffee and 1/2 Bailey's.
Nope!
They gave me a full 16 or so cup, that I swear was a Mocha, only instead of milk, they used ALL Baily's,
It kicked.
I felt better after that.
Me and Heather then wandered around some more, this time buying some dulces. Spanish Macaroons. Less good than french ones, and lacking coconut. (Apparently they do this in France as well.)
In the world of a Kishpike, this a lesser sin.

Heather!
I don't think I've mentioned it, but it was fantastic to meet with Heather, and have another Idaho Theatre Student to speak with. While I've started to develop friends here in Spain, it was super awesome to get to talk to Heather. A luxury I will not have next semester, but I think I will be able to manage without it (Really it has been a huge stress reliever, both times we met) since I am starting to make some good Spanish friends.

Cristina,
I think that was her name.
I knew her as Machda for about three or four hours, so I struggle to remember her real name.
However, Cristina and I met at 12:30 to go over her script, sadly we didn't have enough time, but we did photocopy it, and I have a copy. I'm going to read it an email her my thoughts.
Tell that isn't awesome.
You're wrong.

The Fallen.
Me and Heather then went to the Park, and more shopping, of course.
We talked. A lot, which was great.
We also saw the statue of 'The fallen angel.'
If you have strong christian views, you may skip this paragraph, or suffer from thinking less of me.
I have identified with the character of Lucifer for sometime now.
I've had several dreams where I am the first of the fallen, and have explored his character in various mythos(es?)...Stories.
Lucifer is fascinating.
The idea that he fell because he did not want humans to have free will is even more fascinating.
He either fell because he wanted us to be perfect, or because he was jealous of the inability to have free will.
The second being even more fascinating, because if Lucifer lacked free will, he was completely incapable of not falling.
Now here's the question that haunts me, most people agree that the Son of Light's primary sin is pride. Pride to challenge God. Pride that freezes his wings in hell. Pride that removes him from God's presence.
What would happen if he asked for forgiveness?
Can he?
Hmmm.
I think the thing I identify with the most is sacrificing that which you love most of all, for the wrong reasons. Or the idea of even God for what you believe is right.
Needless to say I loved the statue.
It captured the fall very well.
I love sculpture.

Safe To Read.
Well.
Let's be honest, reading is dangerous in general.
It may make you think.
After the Park, Me and Heather went for Mcflurries, she had assured me that they were better than they were in the States.
I had promised myself I wouldn't do Mcdonald's in Europe.
I made an exception, and Heather was quite right.
Fantastic.
(I had broken this promise in Italy for a bottle of water, which I feel isn't really a breach of my self-contract.)
We had had Thai food for lunch, so I was a well fed little weasel.
When I returned to my hostel, I wanted to sleep at 8, but decided to internet it up.
Around 10:00 I decided to sleep.
The Amsterdamians, however, were not keen on this idea.
Around... Oh I don't recall, 11 or 12, I got out of bed and walked down stairs to check out the Hostel Bar.
I did not know that they served FREE pallela, and 'small' Beers.
This 'small' beer? It was about as much as you'd get at your average bar.
The Large beer, however, lived up to its title.
I only needed the small one.
After an hour or so I went back to my room.
The Amsterdamins were still fucking about, but I was beer-cozy, and decided to sit it out.
After an hour the beer-cozy wore off, but the Amsterdamians finally left.
Two American girls were talking in the sleeping quarters, but quietly and with the lights off.
One of their comments made me laugh, and they learned I could speak English, and I asked them what they were doing.
Apparently studying in Greece.
I asked what brought them to Madrid.
One responded 'The Men.'
I aksed 'Why Spain? I'd figure Italy would be better.'
...
This is moment in my life that I failed.
Brace yourself.
She responded with 'Naw, they're too Faggy there. With their well manicured eyebrows.'
How did I respond? '...oh.'
What didn't I do?
Tell the bitch that this word was a fucking stupid way to describe someone.
Chew her out royally.
Explain to her that her use of that word was promoting of a huge misunderstanding that drastically affects many lives.
Nope.
I just said '...oh.'
But it's okay.
She apologized.
'Oh, uh, Sorry if you're...'
What should have come next? The word 'Gay.'
That should have been what the bitch said.
'...originally from Italy or whatever.'
I didn't respond.
I rolled over and went to sleep.
It was like 2 in the morning, and I was tired, and pissed.


Agur!

No comments:

Post a Comment