It's hard to find a moment just quiet enough to write in this life of mine...

So what's happened since I last blogged?
Lots of stuff, really.

Things are getting very Christmassy around.
I spent last weekend in Dublin, with a bunch of people from D&D, and it was absolutely brilliant even though I didn't have the chance to hang out with L., E., or N.; But I met some really lovely people! I specially want to mention V., 'cause she's great fun, and we even went shopping together yesterday evening!*. Before that, we had had lunch in this place called Lost Society. This is important because it's in this shopping centre somewhere around Grafton Street (but not the one at the end of it... maybe it was in Powerscourt street? whatever. Just somewhere there.) and very place was packed but this restaurant was like... completely deserted, but the food was nice, and the decoration, brilliant. Seriously, check it out!
We did that after the sketching-in-the-museum-with-an-orchestra thing, and I need to say, that the museum part was very nice (it was in the Dublin City Gallery), specially Francis Bacon's studio, kinda shocking!

Because my checkout time had been 10am, I went for a walk (and breakfast) by myself before meeting up with everyone else for the gallery. I was disappointed to find the Ha'penny Bridge Café closed down, but I found another cute little place just around the corner, by the Grand Social, called something along the lines of "The Traditional Bakery Café", and it was basically that, but with seriously good prices.

I had gone to bed early the previous night because, even if I tried to hang out with all the different drinkanddrawers from different places, I had come out of Dr. Sketchy's with a terrible headache. I've got to say, that even with the peculiar choice of music and its volume, I found it very enjoyable! I was a bit lost because I hadn't done any life drawing in an awful long time ("Ein? This? A pencil? How does one hold it? What does it do?), but I think it was brilliant practise! I did feel more confident as the poses went by anyway!
Oh, and congratulations to E. for her cupcake! Those looked veeery yummy!

Before getting there we had only all gathered together, had a craftsy dinner in a fancy place (to fancy for crafts, probably, but... who cares... right?) and checked in in our respective rooms in respective ho(s)tels. And this is when I re-thank E. for allowing me to keep her room thus making the trip possible for me. Seriously, she's awesome in too many levels.

Related to that above, and before going on to the rest of things that have happened since October 6th, I want to thank everyone who was concerned for the fact that I didn't have the money to go to Dublin, and offered to help me, including, but not limited to, my parents, who are awesome, S., C., P., and R.

Now, before last Saturday, in the last 2 months I... decided to move, found a house, moved**, had several rows this the letting agency, got my cat to be a cat, got another cat (I love you Crowley!) had S. and S. over for Halloween/M.'s birthday, dealt with several friends breaking up with their partners, reorganised my room 3 times, had my credit card eaten by Isis (dogie) and, oh, yeah, most recently, had another baby dog adopted by my housemates.

Anyway, a piece of music for ye:

*Don't you worry, we'll be buying fancy dresses in Brown Thomas any day now...
**I'm living with L=Dean and B now :)

Sorry for not finishing my last post...

... as quickly as I siad I would, but I really didn't have the time, because, you see, I've getting quite a bit of work, and I've got that paper I need to write, and a degree to study, and then...

... I spend my evenings rushing through gloomy, misty alleys in Cork, dodging dark puddles and cars that are trying to stop us from getting to Dyke Parade, with my heart beating hard against my chest as the bells on a nearby church mercilesly strike eight...

So nope, no time for blogging!

Can you believe today is Arthur's Day?

That means I got to Ireland tomorrow.
A year ago tomorrow, i mean.
On the 28th of September, anyway.

It doesn't even seem like too much time. My life here has changed that much over the past 12 months, and it feels so settled now, that it is hard to believe it has only been a year since I landed in Cork airport for the first time.
And tomorro has taken so long to come...

I cannot even relate to what was my life last August, to what I used my time for and to what I thought when I closed my eyes before I decided to follow M.'s steps and come, as aupair, to an area at the eastern edge of West Cork (AKA "Farran". It may ring a bell to you. There are some Woods there.).
Of course it never occured to me to go anywhere else but to Inis Fail*. Only the other day my mother was retelling the story of how at 9, in summer, I started learning Gaeilge because I had decided that I would live in Ireland when I grew up.
And here I am.
I tend to think that deserves one big loud FUCK YEAH!
It just takes too much effort to be loud sometimes.

[Will be continued...]

Culinary Experiment: Gravy

So here we are, the three of us, waiting for Omnipotent C to come for dinner. Of course he's late! But the chiken is going to get dry...

[So he came, eventually!]

It's after dinner now...
There was this mystery in our lives before, named Gravy :P Neither M. or I had ever seen real gravy, so we wondered what it actually was, we asked google, and we ended up watching a youtube video about how to throw away half the contents of your kitchen and get some gravy to freeze in return. I was obviously outraged! But it did make me find out what gravy means to be: enthickened roast sauce.

So that was the project for tonight's dinner and the reason why we had C. over- S. does eat well, but a whole big chicken for three can be quite too much!
It's all about being pacient, really: I put the carrots and garlick cloves and onions general veggies in the oven first, with some herbs adn pepper and salt and oil and a cup of water, on a low heat (160º in my oven probably equal 120 actual degrees...) and after an hour I put the chicken and the potatoes, with the corresponden salt and oil, having put the liquid apart first (you keep getting more, it's fascinating- cooking is fascinating, in general!), and let it roast ( heat up, too).

So now the real gravy making part comes! and it's very easy and very tricky too, because... you will see xD

You can eoither make it with olive oil or by gettin some more sauce from the chicken in the oven, that will very quicky start letting grease out of itself and into the sauce. Anyway- you put the grease of your choice in a frying pan and you add a small tablespoon of flour. You fry it, letting it toast a bit- A BIT, I BEG YOU, DON'T BURN IT! I know what I'm talking about! And then you add the rest of the sauce. It will get thick when it boils, what it does quicky. So in that sense you can say that gravy is wha tI had always known as the elavorated version of Spanish Sauce: there, mystery solved!

So yeah, that kept me in the kitchen all the afternoon (well that, and sopu, to be fair).

And it is a new week again tomorrow- isn't life just exhausting?

I'm also quite afraid of next week because new student and so on, starting tomorrow at 9.30. I didn't have the time to prepare the lesson, with all the cooking. We will see... I would like to get someone wish me good luck anyway.

The weekend was great craic, of course, with Dean and Supernatural and another ICC walk adn everything a weekend needs to include (lie- no chess game yet, I home to fix that soon!)

back to life

I was going through high levels of anxiety and feeling quite depressed since before I had to go to my parent's for the exams, but being there was (as always is) better than can expected, and now things are slowly falling back in place here too so my spirits are gradually higher.
The course hasn't started yet but I already have some of the books for my new subjects!! And that is only exiting if you're crazy out about discourse analysis, but hey, don't pretend to be surprised by my nerdyness. I never hid it.

M.'s boyfriend just moved in and I've said this in every possible social media platform but I can't grow tired of repeating it: he plays chess!! He does!! We were playing fridge scrabble yesterday (what, I'm not the only nerd in the house) when he suddenly asked whether I played chess "because it is the kind of thing he can see me doing", and I said yes, and he said we should have a game sometime. Yay!! I'm only afraid we don't have a board. Such sad souls we are...

And the writing club is being slowly worked on, and E. is going to find a way to be in two different places at the same time so he can still be in Cork while he studies in Dublin. I'm obviously very looking forward the development of such a technique.

Also, September is a month for beginnings, so there's lot of new people in town, and several of them are absolutely lovely individuals! To further increase my enthusiasm, some of those lovely newcomers want to be my students- oh joy!
Spanish tapeo meetings are back, along with ICC meetings, there is a Bank of Time to organise... we're all so busy it actually seems Summer was long and quiet,, it makes it almost feel like we did have holidays...

more on visiting home

Tomorrow is the day and I could not be more stressed! There's tons of things I've got to do today... plus I need to check whether I've got the money for next month's rent or not (it's a lovely sensation, this dubiety), and M.'s friend F. arrives today, and I need S. to print out my tickets, and my room needs a thoroughful tidying and cleaning and I need to bake something for D&D's fourth birthday (Yay!) which is tonight, because thanks Murphy.

Seriously.

It's so tiring.

But the worst part is that I won't be flying home tomorrow, nope: I'll be flying to Barcelona, then I'll be killing time to get a train that will get me to P. after a four hours journey, and there I will find my mom waiting and another half an hour later, I will, fuck yeah, be finally home.

Visiting home is always some sort of epic adventure, with all the tedious giants to kill before you get to enjoy your glory.

blah blah blah blah blah

I'm going to Spain again for a few days next week, and I'm not any prepared for it.
Visiting home is always anxiety inducing, but when I come back, the soothing effect of the Lee is there for me.
I can't be sure the Lee will be any soothing this time, though, and I'm worried.

I was supposed to meet E. sometime this weekend but I didn't get any word from him and it's so unsettleing! Our time is short! I'm slowly realizing how unprepared I am for him to go, because everything up there is about that too.
So hopefully I'll hang out with him tomorrow, and if not I'll go occupate Dean's sofa, and we'll watch Howl's Moving Castle there. Maybe both? That'd be definitely awesome!

Anyway, on the bright side:
Yesterday I had so much fun doing crafts with Dean, we're like little kids! Seriously: we bought this crafting kit for the child she's minding, but in the exact moment when we got home, we opened it and starting creating foam monsters and... well, I don't think the poor biy will be able to make anything with it, but he'll be allowed to play with our creations!

Today was completely eventless, and also, I've run pout of cigarretes. Eh, what if that is were all the anxiety comes from? :P

Cheers, whoever's reading!

How I met Dean

[semi-fictional piece in which "Dean" stands formy very dear friend L. and a reference to "Supernatural"]

I'd had a very stressful day yesterday, so I called E.  and convinced him to come all the way to the city to sooth me as we had dinner in SubWay. He couldn't posibly escape because he recently told me to just whistle whenever I needed to chat with someone, he's so nice.
So, as we were ordering our chicken rolls there, two super geeky girls came in. They got my attention because they were... super geeky, and Spanish.
We quickly went out once we got the food, and what did we find there? God, there was this beautiful kitten with think black stripes on a b rownish grey background meowing at our sandwhitches! We stopped to stroke her (even if it wasn't any easy) and fed her some of our chicken, and that's when the two Spanish people came out. The delight was obvious in their faces when they saw the cat, specially in one of them, and she as with us in a moment, feeding and stroking the little fella ( :P ), and we quickly starting talking to each other. Her name's Dean, and she's trying to stop the Armagedon that she started herself...

We all had dinner together and after crazily laughing about silly stuff for a good while we walked E. to the bus stop, and dropped the other girl home. Dean asked me whether I could help her go pick up her boyfriend at work so there we went...
The way to his workplace involved walking past the subway again, and there was still the kitten, who, probably remembering that we'd fed her before, followed us all the way to Dean's boyfriend's workplace. I spent all the way there lamenting how we are not allowed to keep any pets in our apartmen, but Dean said she could help her, and that made me feel extremely happy! She's such a nice girl, I'm so happy I met her! So we decided that the cat was going to be called Gwen, because I really really always wanted to have a cat named Gwen and even if she won't exactly be my cat Dean let me pick her name!!

So got there, and as we waited for B. to come (B.'s Dean's boyfriend), this person went into the building. And this person was... hm... he was a 50/50mix of Batman's Mr. Penguin and Silent Bob, so well, both of us were paying him lots of attention, so he dialed the code to open the door and opened the door and closed the door and I was focusing all my attention in that person who was a Silent Penguin and once he walked away I realised that I had memorised the code to open the door. So we tried, and it worked and we quietly stayed out but we felt we had something huge, and that, in case any of you don't know it, is a great feeling!

So the last bit of the story is that, once B. came down, he saw the cat, and agreed to keep her (-ish, but whatever), but he said every animal in his house needs to be given and Egyptian name and Dean and I didn't want wen to stop being Gwen but we decided she could have two names. That was when she became Gwen Anubis.


[That up there is a very distorted version of yesterday, but I did have a lot of fun with  L. and we did end up with a kitten named Gwen Anubis so... the essence of it is true. We just realised that the actual way how L. and I met isn't any cool so we decided to fit it into yesterday's story. Now, pretend you don't know this is not how it happened!
Also, thanks, E., for starring in my story :P I couldn't love you more :(]

More culinary experimenting!

Well today's cooking was not that experimental I just made Sheperd's Pie for dinner, which is just... something I'd never cooked before and that I'd only ever had at my hostfamily's.
So it could be called Cultural Adaptation Cooking, because, being quite a simple recipe (make bolognese sauce, make mashed, put the mashed over the bolognese in an oven tray, cover with cheese, grill) there was not much place for experimentation.
The reason why I'm specially happy about it is that in S.'s words, it was actually a good Sheperd's Pie.

Apart from that... the sky is cloudy! Oh joy! At last! We have had such sunny and warm weather lately, and... it was nicce the first couple of days, but I was starting to get annoyed. On the other hand, everybody loves clear skies, so the loveliness of the weather brought lots of awesome social gatherings, mostly in the form of barbecues. That was very enjoyable indeed!
So I went to E.'s house yesterday for a D&D BBQ and it was the most fun ever like! And her house is amazing, both the inside (I expected that) and the outside and the surroundings! It is amazing an amazing place, with the terrace over the creek, with its fish and its plants, and all the surrounding trees and bushes, the birds flying around (apparently whispering "eejit, eejit") and the star covered sky when night fell.

I discussed it with M. this morning and we decided we'll kick them away and keep the house for us when we get a driver's licence and a car :P

Don't know, everything's just great.

It's probablyMerrily's doing.

Didn't I tell you? She's our part time cat, with part time kittens, Merrily Murphy.


P.S.: We just made a shopping list three post-its long...

D&D, so

Hm...
So the last two D&Ds have been particularly awesome, and not only because E. was back there, but also because they're just a bunch of nice, fun people and because I'm getting used to them (well, yeah, I take my time, so what? ) and I'm getting to actually draw there too.
Anyway the other day was very nice and I got to hang out with E. before (and also afterwards... I hope he got home safe, by the way, I never asked... ), and K. is just unfairly talented and A. is so fun and whatever. I know you knwo, but I absolutely love D&Ds.

Here are some of my drawing of the last ones, by the way!

I'm very sorry about the quality of the photos. I could photoshop them into something decent, but I think I rather moan about how I have neither a photo camera or a scaner. "I wish I had a good camera or a scaner so I could get nice enough picturees of my drawings :( "

I think there's a few more new drawings somewhere (most probably the big pad) but I'm not going to get off my rocking chair to get them... some other day!

The kitchen smells of a kitchen.

A lovely light mixture of coffee, herbs, soap, and chicken soup.
I've been cooking a lot these days, and quite successfully too, I dare say! It makes me really happy when after a lot of guesswork (because cooking still involves a lot of guesswork for me) I manage to get my granny's soup or my mom's chicken stew.
And the thing is... it's hard to cook if it's just for yourself. That's why I hadn't really done it beore M. moved in, since I cooked for K. a few times but then she wouldn't eat it and... well, I stopped doing it anyway. But M. loves food xD so it's great to cook dinner for her too.
And every single day it is fun to set the window instead of the table and to climb onto it and to eat there. It's our little everyday thrill (as if we got any though...).
Anyway, my point is that my kitchen smells like a kitchen and I love it!

On a completely unretated note [I'm awesome] getting to get used to my new bedroom. I still don't like it and it doesn't feel like mine yet and I don't have enough space for all my stuff and everything seems to be in the wrong position and I can't sleep, but at least I can tell when it's daytime and when not. I like that.
I also stopped opening M.'s bedroom door everytime I want to get into my room.

And that's it about my routine. However...
Last Saturday, it was s.'s birthday party and we obviously were very enthusiastic about going (you get the most amazing compilations of people in that house, you really do :) ) but it was really late by the time we managed to get there and then we needed to leave super early because we were hosting the Spanish Summer Party in Cyprus Avenue. But! it was actually quite nice since I met two very lovely people there (appart from the always cheerful L.', and S.' and some other nice people) and they are like people with whom I would actually enjoy to hang out (because I'm not any picky or anything, you see ;) ): they're L.'' and B.

Now, I was going to also comment on last D&D because it was super fun, but I think I'll do it in another post so that I can also put some photos of the drawings I've made there lately and so.

people keeps and keeps leaving...

The fact that I'm specially sensible too the speed in which everyone I know seems to be leaving Cork may or may not be caused by M.'s absence this week. She knows how to make herself missed, you see.
But that doesn't mean it is not an objective fact.
People are indeed leaving, and it is worse than I thought it would be...
At the begining, it was people that had came to stay for a few months (like me) and that were OK with leaving when the time came (unlike me. How are they psychologically able to get out of this place? Has Murphy no strength over them?).
But now...
People I had taken as an idiosyncratic part of Cork are leaving too. S., and most of all E. God, E. is leaving Cork, and everything seems to lack logic now.

And now... now it is me who is stuck here, ...
When everyone leaves, M. will have a boyfriend and I will be stuck in a city that I love and that I don't want to want to leave but I wont have a life, and it is already starting to feel depressing.

But I'm fighting it hard.

However, as a positive point, today's Writing Group meeting has been very nice, and it wasn't even an actual session but just a meeting :) And also, because little A. is leaving too I met her in Thursday and it was very nice! And she got to come to D&D because it was her last chance (to have an opinion about E. :P) and I think it was a specially pleasant one! I got to chat with a few people who are very very nice but with whom I don't normally chat because... I don't normally talk to anyone... and it felt ood and warm...

And well, I thought that, even if the city is emptied of the people I love, those great gatherings of awesome people will still be working and they will always feel warm, because they are what make this city my city, and that the sunset will always look amazing from the living room's window, and that Cork will always have the Lee in the middle, and that the memories I made with those people will never fade, because that's my brain for you.


On a funny note:
So today in the writing session I was talking to this Croacian girl, T, and we ended up talking about languages in Spain and she asked me about Basque and I told her that you can't understand it no matter how good your Spanish is, since it is not related it, and she said "Ohh so I understand everything now, that's why you don't have and Spanish accent when you speak English!!" And I was like "Ermh... no.". God, the Basque accent may be the only one worse that the Spanish one when it comes to speaking English xD

Culinary experiment of the day: Success!!!

I decided Wednesday was going to be my free day on this crazy pre-exam week. Oh, how I needed it!

So after picking up M. at her house and walking all the way to Douglas under an unbeliebablely warm sunshine, lying on the floor of "Art and Hobby" for about half an hour, having a latte and some apple pie (thanks for that, M.) as my only lunch (OK, that's not accurate, I also had an apple later!) walking back to Cork and meeting Oink there, and chatting and drawing, I got back home at 6.17 and hell, I was starving!
So I cooked myself some very Irish style dinner, and it was yummy, but I didn't feel like I'd finished handling food yet so after unsuccessfully trying to study for a while, I went back to the kitchen, opened all the drawers, thought for a minute and decided to cook... Chocolate Rice Pie!

After that, I failed to study for a while longer and then... I'm not going to say here what I've done then *Blush*, so I needed a treat, and I am now enjoying fancy glass of the rice pie I made.

Slightly too sweet, but it meets my needs xD. Great to have still warm.

It's really easy to make: You cook 3/4 of a unit rice on 1 unit of water with some (smaaaaall bit) of sugar and cinnamon and when the water dries you pour in 1 unit of milk and melt half a bar of coberture chocolate on it. Let cook until the rice is very tender. It should be creamy, not at all dry. While you get there, melt some more coverture chocolate, adding a bit of water. Pour the rice in the cups/bols/glasses and cover it with the melted cholocate. Sprinkles welcome.


Anyway yeah, as if I didn't have enough stuff to stress over with all the studying, and the bus-fligh-but-wait-bus home this Saturday, and the exams, and the enormous anxiety of going home just to visit and sleeping in my-bedroom-which-is-not-really-my-bedroom-anymore, I did THAT...


OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod.

Experience has proved that it works both ways

"And when you think things can't get any worse, they do" is a very recurrent sentence in this world an dI have found myself saying it several times on previous stages of my life, and I was just thinking that sometimes, we fail to notice that it works both ways.
So, yep, the main theme of this post is "And when you think things can't get any better, they do", in which "things" stands specially for "people", as horrible as that may be :P.  Long story short, I love my friends.

Right now, I mostly love how they keep susprising me.
Do you know that sensation, when you are surprised? Do you know how your world suddenly expands itself a little further? Do you know when that expansion actually happens because of, not only yourself, but someone else who's there to help you discover stuff? Have you ever felt the warmth in your chest, and a smile you can't stop showing up on your face?
Well, the whole week has been like that for me.
I thought it would end with the Rocking chair but that was actually only the begining.

The actual, planned, surprises are a big part of it but that is not all...

Sometimes it is just discovering that those heroes, those people you can't help but look up to, are also human and suffer the same fears and anxieties you do. And finding out that they actually like you an denjoy your company.

Others, it is the choice of words your friends make to comunicate with you, the extent to which they adapt their discourse to make you as happy as possible.

Somethimes is people being sincerely thankful that you had them over.

Or creating a mess by crafting a box into a puppet-thetre-fort, an dthe fun on thinking every detail of it.

Seeing how people really thinks of you and pick the most propriete presents for them to give you, presents you love yourself and that will always make you think of them.

Realizing someone is whistleing in your living room and enjoying the sweetness of the sound.

Being wished "Happy Birthday" in a whole lot of languages.

Listening to people you love share their dreams and hopes with you and eveyone else.

Discovering how eager some people are to see you, when you thought they weren't really.

Hearing about some of all the planning that has been done so that everything turns out perfect for you and being able to emphatize with the excitement and anxiety felt by others for your sake.

And all the rest of the tiny details, every single one of them. They make the sun shine on a cloudy sky.

The best part of getting a Rocking Chair or your birthday is that it comes unasembled, in a gigant box, and that your friends got it for you.

And seeing the poor post man breathe "in through the nose, out through the mouth" with his head tilted to the left as he decided how he was going to get the package into my house, when I hadn't seen the package yet. adn then see him get a big box that just kept coming of the van as if it was never going to end.

Also, seeing as the box landed that a drawing of its secret surpresive contents that I wasn't allowed to know off was on it, and having M. at the other side of the phone and laughing at her for that but also being unable to believe that they had got me a Rocking Chair. And yes, it is the kind of Rocking Chair that beats the rules of capitalization.

Staring at the aforementioned postman with a look that clearly said "that thing still need to be moved into my sitting room" ans seehim walk away, and look at the box that barely fitted in the corridor. Being able to actually get it down without much difficulty.

Leaving the box and the house to themselves and going to pick m. up to help her walk her not-so-new bike home. Discovering it is a Lady Bicycle that beats the rules of capitalization, green with an actual basket, and that people are not allowed to ride it if they are not wearing a flower patterned summer hat.

Getting to the obvious conclusion that people who can get the biggest box ever down a stairway can get a Lady Bicycle up a stairway.

Opening the biggest box ever to find that, appart from the promised Rocking chair it also has The Biggest and Most Awesome Piece of Cardboard Ever in it. and deciding what to use it for even before further exploring the box.

Most of all, discovering that the footstool that accompanies the Rocking Chair is nothing else but a Rocking Footstool!


And it went on and on, really.
Such a Capitalization Rules Beating Morning, it was!


And apart from everything else, I get to build a fort out of the box =D


So, basically, thanks to everyone for making me feels this happy (you can ask M. about my actual level of happiness, she should be able to describe it quite well). Seriously. I think you may get some benefit from visiting a shrink, all of you, but you are most certainly awesome friends.

Time goes By

So, as I explained on my last post, I went back to be looking for a job, and it's not easy, but my spirits are high.
Also, Mid Term is coming again already and even if that brings a personalised hell to all aupairs in the country M. has been given two free days so we are going to Belfast, yeah, why not, from Sunday to Tuesday, luckily being back on time for D&D? and...

Tuesday is also the day when Easons'/my birthday present to myself is arriving home! Yay! So I'll have to go and pick it up on the post office, but still! Books!
And talking about books I'm reading Cloud Atlas and it is very nice and charmingly complicated.

And also I need to very seriously get into studying, because finals are not that far away, and, well, I have got the flight to Spain booked and I'll be there for two weeks, one for my exams and the next one for a fun time with family and friends, or probably just family, and then M. will join me for a lovely half weekend or whatever in... yeah, finally... Dublin!

So that is a lot of travelling and as a result I won't be joining the next two Sceitse trips, and that makes me a little sad, but I hopefully will be there in July...! (Sorry, I tried, but it is too far away on time for me to be sincerely enthusiastic about it.)

Apart from all that, it's been like a couple of weeks since I went out of the shadows and became an official administrator of SPiC, which is not really a big thing, but still adds to the pile of responsabilities and small stuff I'm into.

In addition, it seems that now that I'm living in the city I absolutely can't miss any ICC meeting... or any other thing C. and  S. organise. And they are probably (certainly, even) into more stuff than M. and I are, so my life gets busier by the moment.


And all this scenario is missing the most important point of my life right now-

People are leaving. But not just people, like, people. I mean J. and Mi.. What is our live going to be from now on? Who will come and have a 4 hours long coffee at our sitting room?
Just thinking on their absence makes me feel empty...
...makes me think of how serious the compromise we joke about actually is. I can't go through this again.

And it brings to my mind that sentence with which that book begins "You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friedns' nose" and how that book's main characters conclude that you can't pick your friends really, but you can pick their noses if necessary.
So whatever, I'm thinking of picking my friends.
Of picking settled friends, to be more accurate.

I don't want this numb emptiness on my chest.


Anyway. 've been listening to this all day like.

I hate it when people doesn't treat people as people.

What I mean is that I honestly believe that there are certain individuals scattered around the place who deserve to be fired from their job in the very moment they call sick because they've got the worst floo ever as the corpse of their lover lies by their side.

Because that certain individuals love to play this game in which they are unable to notice the humanity within the people around them and they deal with their daily live using the rules of it.


As a conclusion, I've decided I need to get a proper job, as I don't want to allow other people make me kill myself.


And sorry about the anger.

My favorite places in Cork for...

I have been thinking of writing this for a while, and I think this is the perfect moment since I've been living in the city for almost a month and I am getting usd to it's corners.
So here's my list...

My favorite places in Cork for...

... a pint: Franciscan Well.
Obviously like. Plus it includes awesome drawing evenings!
It was the "my favorite place" that I discovered first, and I'm so very glad for that. Thanks, Jota and all DrinkandDrawers ;) And this is also where I discovered the best brand of cider in the world... I owe so much to this  pub!

... a long talk over some coffee: Café Eco
Perfect for those after 6pm evenings when you don't want to go to a pub, which happens quite often to me. The staff is nice, they do all kind of handy things there that you can't do anywhere else after 6, and... well, a very brilliant place :)

... pancakes: Fellini's
Seriously.

...some nice live music: Sin É
Plus the best cider ever!

... a night time walk:
Banks of the river Lee: loveliest walks home ever, granted!

... enrichening an otherwise eventless morning: Crawford Art Gallery
I've actually only been there once, and we promised to go back on that very same morning, but... we don't have tha many spare mornings really, do we? It's great and big and free, though, so it's good to pay a visit every now and then.

... lunch: AT HOME!!! but, well, that's only now that I can freely cook, and, anyway: Uncle Pete's
We should be VIP here or something, I can't count how many times we've eaten here! Plus the music is very nice!

... organising random stuff we're into: Franciscan Well (yeah, again <3)and Old Oak
It is amazing how, in this city (or maybe country) you can ask to book the upstairs of a pub so freely and easily. So here's where we do Wriing Session, Spanish Gastronomical Meetings, Karaoke Parties and such... even a-political meetings like- everything we are into hapens there!

... a lazy coffee on a weekend morning: Nosh+Coffee
They've got very yummy pastries, and if you're lucky, some nice rock music. We discovered it by chance looking for somewhere different than O'Connails.

... a very posh ladylike coffee while reading the paper: Isaac's Hotel
No Comments, you need to go and experience it by yourself... it was king of surrealistic to go there with my marteens and be treated that way.

... spending half an hour wishing you had all the money in the world: Vibes and Scribes (both of them), Waterstones, Easons and Brennan's Cook Shop
If you are crafty, bookish and/or cookish.

Not So lovely Life of Mine

So Ireland is this awesome country where you can emloy half an hour everyday for breakfast and that shines in sparkling green whenever the clouds open up a space for the sun to come out. This last thing, by the way, has been pretty usual lately :)

But some other stuff also goes on in this atlantic island.

First, you need an evidence of residence for everything you do.
Getting the PPS number was complicated enough, and seeing the letter didn't get "home" in the expected time was... awful given that I needed it to complete the lease agreement, and the unhelpfulness of the girl at the post office (I went there to ask for it because they told me so at the Social Welfare office), who didn't even turn around to check if the letter was there or not. But I had though that after I could prove that I proved the Social Welfare office that I do reside in Ireland, some doors would open for me.

Well, that doesn't exactly match what happened. The PPSN is not accepted as evidence of adress to open a bank account. A lease agreement isn't either (seriously? I still can't believe it). You need a bill, or else... a bill, or a bill, and you can also use an statement from your employer, but it need to be writen in headed paper, addressed directly to the bank, and accompanied by a bill on the name of your employer.

So, basically, you need a bill on your current adress to be able to pay the bills of that address, but then also...

You can not have a bank account to pay bills.

In this other bank, you can have a bank account to pay bills, but you can't have two people managing one account. Also, your bank card and details will get to your address by mail, in a maximum time of... well, I don't really know yet, but yeah, at least two weeks from the day you sign up.


Also there are little lovely cafés that have been looking for staff for, like, two months and haven't contacted me in any of the two times I handed my CV. That should sort of mean they don't really need someone that much, right?


And there are firends leaving, and more frinds leaving, and friends not coming...

Lovely Little Life of Mine

There has been way too much stuff going on on my life during the last few days, all with leaving my family and staying at M.'s for a week and the (yeah! It actually happened!) moving to the apartment and so, but I didn't have internet for quite a while and then, well, I don't have that much peace and spare time anymore either!

So the week with M.'s family was very nice. They are incredibly nice people (of course this is obvious enough, given that they let me stay with them...), making plans and checking stuff and feeling like adults but not quite being adults.

Then, the day came. Saturday the sixth. I can't elieve it's been that long already. And it feels like I've been here my whole life at the same time. I think this is what normally happens when you count days, at least it's what I felt when I counted the days at the begining of my aupair experience. Then I counted the weeks. Then I stopped counting. Anyway: 16 days since we came to the apartment to meet the lady from the agency and the landlord, to sing the lease agreement, from the back door. We intended to use the front door but... we didn't know were it was and... we planned to arrive with plenty of time so that we could look for it but we kept meeting people on the streets... and we were too exited about everything not to stop and tell them... so we came in from the garden door, were there was this trembling old man cutting the grass. I noticed there were wind strawberries mixed on it. Joy.

The gardener happened to be our landlord, everything ran smoothly (probably due to our lovely lady costumes) and, in less than an our, both of them left from the front door. We live in one of the comparatively few places in the word were you need to go up to get out from the front door. I love it.

So, first thing, we double-checked what we needed to buy and we decided that duvets and sheets and pillows were the priorities. Oh and the coffe maker to. Then, we went out to see what our front door looked like and what could we find in W. Road. Well, there's a sushi take away. Just saying, like.

So we went to the an lár and met some more lovely people to share our exitement with, and then bought our stuff, and then went back home with atching feet and ridiculously big bags, and I broke the handle of the coffee maker, but we did have a coffee, M. in her purple cup an dI in my green cup.

Because yeah, there was a brand new set of cups and they were green and purple. This city is seriously making it hard for me to believe in chance.
We didn't do much (well, we teorized a lot) that first day (J. And M1 called in :) thankyou girls for being our first visitors :) ) apart from a stuff-that-you-can't-live-with shopping that we got home by the means of vandalism.

Sleeping here for the first time felt both weird and logical. It alse felt yoky when, during the throughoutful cleaning session of the next day, we found some stuff that I'm not going to mention here.
So that was all we did on sunday, yeah, C L E A N I N G.


The next step before we could become full adults was waiting. For everything (my PPS, a meeting with the lady of the agency, a bank account, K. ...) but that deserves a full entry for itself.

On this one, I want to leave you with the the sensation of inner peace felt by me when, while having luch at our favorite restaurant to celebrate this step, soap bubbles were floating on the streets, and love was walking past us on them too.

It is happening.

I'm shifting the language of this blog to English.

I've been with the D. family for six months.

I'm leaving.

I've spent the whole week packing an dunpacking and packing again, and trying to decide if there's stuff I don't need anymore or not. Fighting against the spacial limitations of my three small weel-less suitcases.

Reading borrowed books.

Applying for jobs.

Skyping home.

Being hugged by Ele and Erre and Be.

Slightly hating A and Ka- slightly because I didn't want to biuld a bad karma while I was still here.

Thinking about the Nonosvamosnosechan concentration, the Diachrony and Typology of the English Language PEC, the Writing Group meeting, the transfer of my money, the inherent difficulties of moving houses without a car when there's a 20' walk to the bus stop, translating stuff for my cousing, reading blogs, trying to believe everything is going to be OK, and trying to make the Dwarf believe it too; preparing the classes out of which I seem to need to make my living next month, shoving past my last week of this routine.

Realizing that, no matter what, no matter how much I long to finishing it, I'm going to miss it.

And today, I did it all again, and tomorrow- tomorrow is the day. NExt Saturday will be the day again, but for now, I can only think of tomorrow.

Of how glad I am for the C. family for being M.'s family, for being nicer to me than my actual hostfamily has lately been.
Of how fun and, at the same time, utterly crazy is going to be having S. and S. visiting this weekend. How can I be so exited about someone I don't even know coming over? I guess it comes along whith sahring your person with another body.


Mhhh... that's (not) all, I would say.


"Omnia mea mecum porto" M. would say.

Cork is that city where chance happens

...in case someone hadn't noticed yet.

But that's only the title for the post, I'm actually going to tell you about something completely unrelated, concretely, about the stuff that happens when the family becomes aware that you're living, tha tthis convivence is coming to and end.

Which is, mainly, shit.

No importa lo lovely que tu familia sea, que van a decidir pasar de ti, van a dejar de tener detalles bonitos y van a empezar a tenerlos feos. Supongo que es porque, total, si te queda un mes, no te vas a ir en dos semanas. Pues hay momentos en los que no me faltan ganas (lo que me falta es piso y curro).

De repente, tus horarios ya no son tus horarios y nadie te pregunta nada. Si no es imprescindible, tampoco te lo dicen. Ya irás tu viendo que no aparece nadie por el salón. Con un "thankyou" de pasada queda apañado.

Tu hostmom te deja colgada en la ciudad porque da igual que cada miércoles, religiosamente, tu vayas a y vuelvas de Cork con el niño porque su horario de clase coincide con tu mañana libre. Le montan una playdate y tú te las apañas. Si tienes que mendigar dinero para el autobús, pues mira.

Llegas el domingo a la noche a casa y te encuentras la fregadera desbordada con todos sus cacharros del fin de semana. Y sabes que cuando tu empieces a trabajar el lunes, eso va a seguir ahí.

De repente se decide que la petarda (que conste que yo a Ele la quiero mucho) se sienta a tu lado en la mesa. Y que se comporte como es debido pasa a ser deber tuyo por muy fuera de tu horario que estés (porque ya no tienes horario). Y tampoco se van a molestar en remarcar en hecho de que, in fact, sentada a tu lado sí parece humana, y sí se come la cena, y sí deja de jugar con [juguete estúpido tupo i-phone de imitación de plástico rosa] y no hay berrinches.

Y así un poco con todo.


Y si a esto le añades que Cork es la comarca hasta que te pones a buscar alojamiento y te encuentras con pequeños reductos Campoclareños/Mordorosos del copón infecto en medio de el barrio más fancy de la ciudad, y que después de dos intentos la calefacción central ha pasado a segundo plao y lo que prioriza es que el acceso sea una PUERTA, POR FAVOR Y GRACIAS, pues nada.

Pero una se ríe de todo, y cuando no le queda risa, se la deja prestada su otra mitad, que para algo está :) , y para algo están los D&D (sé que os debo alguna fotillo, a ver si me pongo a ello or something) (exactamente para liberarte del martes más estresante de tu vida como aupair en el cual to hostparents se fueron a un funeral que duró 6 horas, pero eso es ontra historia y debe ser contada en otra... entrada xD), y para algo está el chat, y para algo está Oink y para algo está todo. Cada pequeña cosita en su sitio. A veces, cuando nadie me mira, me planteo susurrar un pequeño "Gracias Murphy" sin tonillo irónico ni nada. Because Cork is that town where chance happens :)

Deadlines

Supongo que, antes de ir al tema que da título a la entrada, tengo que mencionar varias cosas.

La semana Mordorosa del Copón Infecto que pasé en Londres con el enano: ¡Qualquier otro acompañante hubiera perecido en el intento! Supongo que el Karma decidió que, una vez empiezas a contares historias a tus nietos, no van a dejar de pedírtelas y optó por proporcionarnos unas cuantas en forma de Anécdotas de la Semana que El Enano y el Hada Abrigada Pasaron en un Hostel Infecto del Centro de Mordor Haciendo Exámenes en Territorio Español.
No tuvo desperdicio.

Volví a la rutina un poco deprimida, a pesar de todo lo que había echado de menos Cork... la vida de la aupair es, en cierto modo, un cautiverio. Uno muy lovely, con muchas sonrisas de niños y abrazos, pero en los que el frigorífico no es tu frigorífico, y la moqueta que aspiras tampoco es la tuya.

Así que M. y yo propusimos en deadline, que concidía con el fin de mi contrato de aupair: dos meses. Para Mayo, casa y curro. Casi nada. Y otro: mañana (que es hoy) tienes la charla con tu hostmom.

Pues he tenido la charla con mi lovely hostmom y ya puede darse prisa con el beeping justificante de residencia después de la que me ha soltado.
Opina, por supuesto, que es muy lovely que me quiera quedar. Y que, ah si, que el uno de abril se van de vacaciones y La novia del Hostgrandpa llega antes de lo que pensábamos y que... que mi contrato acaba en día 1 en vez de en día 30.

¿Y se puede saber a qué cojones ha estado esperando para decírmelo?

Mosqueo aparte,
la questión es que ahora tengo un mes para encontrar trabajo y piso y compañero de piso y... ARGH. Un Mes. Y Todavía No Tengo PPS.

Se me está creando una ulcera.

Una muy lovely.

"Remember: you are a lucky girl"...

...que dice mi cuchara de emergencia.
Porque soy muy obviamente alguien con buena suerte. Be lo descubrió cuando todavía no llevaba aquí ni una semana, y yo le explique que tuviera cuidado con mi suerte y se fuera preparando para el desastre.
La cuestión es que yo, en esencia, soy una chica con muy mala suerte, y mi suerte fue empeorando y empeorando durante mi vida hasta que, llegado un punto, se creó un agujero negro de suerte dentro de mí. ¿Qué implica eso? Pues eso implica que empecé a absorber la buena suerte de mi al rededor y a hacerla mía, y así de bien me va en la vida, muy a pesar de las lavadoras y las baterías de los coches y de los compañeros de clase que no se hayan estudiado el único tema que yo me sepa de any given subject.

Pero últimemente me da la sensación de que he ido, incluso, más allá.
Más allá de los agujeros negros y más allá de la buena suerte, hay un lugar donde las cosas ocurren sólo con desearlas suficientemente fuerte.

No ha pasado un día en el que no haya recordado, ligeramente incrédula, aquella mañana nevada de Cork.
La desbordante alegría que el manto blanco me causó no manaba de su existencia, sino de mi deseo de nieve.
Realmente me costó creérmelo.
La semana anterior había nevado, así en general, por todo.
[Y yo quería que nevara]
Pero en Cork no nieva.
[Y yo quería que nevara]
Iba a nevar "Somewhere in Ireland".
[Y yo quería que nevara]
Y el domingo por la noche hablé con alguien que me contó que había nevado durante una excursión que habían hecho al deep countryside de Cork, mientras caminaban y  dibujaban.
[Y yo quería que nevará]
Y me pasé toda la noche sin dormir, y la luz por la mañana era extraña...
[Y había nevado]

Desde aquella mañana, cada vez que las cosas salen como quiero (que no son pocas), me cuesta más llamarlas "casualidad".

Y eso es todo por hoy.

"1. Solo puedes desear realmente
aquello que consideras posible.
2. Sólo puedes considerar posible
aquello que forma parte de tu historia.
3. Sólo forma parte de tu historia
aquello que verdaderamente deseas."

"La Escuela de Magia" - Michael Ende

Biggest step ever!

No he traducido mi currículum, ni he pedido el justificante de residencia para el PPS, ni he decidido dónde voy a buscar trabajo, ni siquiera he acabado de leer el libro de Sociolingüística.

Estaba yo tranquílamente Hablando con mis padres por Skype, cuando mi madre ha soltado lo siguiente:
"Pues estuvo Silas de visita el otro día. ¿Qué tal estás por ahí? ¿Estás agusto? Yo creo que estás más agusto que en casa. Haces más cosas. ¿No has pensado en quedarte?"
Como yo no podía contestar, ha seguido:
"Tal y como están las cosas aquí, sería lo lógico. Hombre, nosotros te echamos de menos, pero no te preocupes por eso. Estamos bien. Nos apañaremos. Es que vino Silas y..."

Es que está claro.
¿Cómo no voy a querer quedarme?

Ha sido más fácil de lo que pensaba. Supongo que que te saquen el tema y planteen tu opción como la solución lógica ayuda.

También es cierto que nunca en los cuatro meses que llevo aquí había sentido tanto "etxemina" como ahora mismo. Quiero abrazar a mi familia. Porque son increíblemente grandes. Porque sus amigos son increíblemente grandes. Porque ven a través de mi como si mi piel fuera papel cebolla: eso es una familia, esa gente a la que no puedes ocultarle cosas aunque lo intentes.

Y ahora puedo legítimamente empezar a dar todo el resto de pasos.

Que se note que, aparte de pasarme la vida hablando de cucharas, soy aupair.

Yo no sé que leches le pasa a Erre pero últimamente, "cranky" es poco.
Y enseñarle a hacer punto a una criatura de seis años que te ha dicho que no necesita que le ayudes mientras juegas a shop assistants con una de tres no es particularmente sencillo.
Estás luchando con ello cuando aparece tu hostmom y te pregunta cuándo te vas a hacer los exámenes con cara de susto, y ves como se le cae el mundo cuando le contestas, porque, sí señores, mi semana de exámenes coincide con las mid-term holydays, y yo lo siento mucho pero me alegro considerablemente, ¡que ya sabemos las aupairs lo que las vacaciones implican!

A las seis y cinco una se va a subir a estudiar pero aparece súbitamente Ka y anuncia que ha traído las shelves para la habitación de las niñas de las que tanto has oído hablar... y tú te das cuenta de que A es una lady y él no las va a subir solo. Ya os contaré mañana como de moradas amanecen mis manos.
Cuando todavía no has recuperado la respiración tienes tres niños llamándote, para que les ayudes a encontrar sus zapatos, enseñarte los trofeos de taekwondo y preguntarte si pueden ver Peppa Pig en tu /'pju:.təʳ/

Y mientras todo esto y mil cosillas más pasan en tu vida de pancha, tienes que estudiar, escribir un par de mails, hacer Skype a casa, redactar dos cosillas, acumular cucharas para eventos posteriores de la semana, pedirle a tu hostmom un justificante de residencia, escribir tu currículum, y hacerte mapas conceptuales para enterarte de lo que pasa en tu vida, porque no te da (-n las cucharas) para seguir el ritmo de los acontecimientos, las conversaciones y los silencios.

A eso, gracias a quién sea, hay que añadirle pequeños detalles que te sacan sonrisas, como que Ele se te duerma en el regazo antes de acabar de decirte que estás nice and warm, ir a maldecirte porque se te olvidó comprar café y ver que alguien se acordó de ti, ver que una discusión de vez en cuando forman parte de la amistad (porque M. y yo no somos, por mucho que G. diga, una única persona desdoblada), que haya quién se acuerde de ti y te haga favores sin que tú se lo pidas, darte cuenta de que estás haciendo cosas bien y la gente lo agradece.

Todo lleva a que una se pregunte (como tantas veces ha hecho en su vida) quién le manda meterse en semejante berenjenal. "Who asked me to get into such an aubergine patch?".

The very worst of it all es que I actually feel way more like myself when a certain level of anxiety me consume.


P.S.: Pillándole el puntillo a la Sociolingüística, after all.

roll your eyes and breathe deep...

Vaya semanita... no  sé si las cosas malas eclipsan las buenas o al revés (náh, ¡en realidad lo tengo clarísimo!).
Creo que nunca tanto como esta semana había necesitado el café con compañía del miércoles por la mañana,y no pudo ser. Y tener cosas que contar, alegrías que compartir, y no poder hacerlo, no poder sonreirle a alguien y dar palmadas (dar palmadas sola en tu habitación) es un poquito frustrante.

Pasarte la semana esperando a que sucedan cosas es frustrante, pero la ilusión cuando ocurren ¡es tanta! ¡Sienta tan bien tener mariposas en el estómago por cada mínimo detalle!

Tener que decidir si te sientes como un niño o como una adolescente es extraño.

Tener miedo de hablar con casa causa mucha ansiedad, y la ansiedad causa más miedo, y, aunque te paraliza, te hace sentir extrañamente hiperactiva. Cuando te armas de valor y haces frente a la ansiedad, te sientes la reina del mundo, sobre todo si sale bien. Y respiras un poquito.
Aunque no puedes evitar pensar que ése trago lo vas a tener que pasar igual, que empujarlo hacia el futuro no es saltar sobre él, y te das cuenta de que ya se te han roto todas las uñas.

Llega el jueves y recibes mensajes de texto y por Facebook. Alguien te pide ayuda. Una, dos, y tres veces. Y tú no puedes hacer nada. Te corroes por dentro despacio hasta que una mano se alza y se presenta voluntaria para ofrecer esa ayuda que tu no puedes dar. Y aunque sigues frustrada, respiras otro poquito.

Preguntas y no recibes respuesta.

Y el viernes vuelve a ser tu día, así que se te corta la respiración del todo pero das muchas palmadas.  Saltitos. Pasas la mañana sola en casa, y "la mañana" dura hasta las 15.30.
Hablar de cosas con gente da gusto. Ser capaz de comunicarte con alguien sin que te suponga un esfuerzo. Que incluso los temas más comprometidos funcionen. Palmadas y saltitos, y una sonrisa enorme.

Y otra cosa habitual los viernes son las playdates, que dan mucho trabajo pero son maravillosas... hasta que entra a tu casa una niñata manipuladora a la que te tienes que pasar la tarde vigilando, pero sonriendo, porque es la amiga de Erre. Y tu sientes como se te va creando una úlcera en el estómago y te dices "respira" y vas sobreviviendo a la tarde pensando en todo lo bueno que ha pasado durante la semana.

Así es la vida.
Llegas al sábado arrastrando tu cuerpo, a base de esperanza, y piensas que la semana que viene es, y será siempre, la semana que viene.

Why not?

Me quedo. Está decidido. Y empiezo a tomar las medidas necesarias esta misma evening*.

A veces necesitas caminar durante horas hasta sentir como tu cuerpo se va congelando para pensar con claridad, a veces que la persona adecuada te mire a través de un café y te pregunte "¿Y luego?" para darte de cuenta de que, más allá de las circunstancias que te rodean, tu futuro es sólo tuyo. Y a veces todo pasa como y cuando tiene que pasar, y te sientas a plantear tu vida.

Haces una lista mental con todos los pasos que tienes que dar para poder identificarte como "esa chica con suerte a la que las cosas le salen como ella quiere".

Te pasas el día sonriendo y dando palmadas.

Llegas a la conclusión de que un alto porcentaje del aire de esta pequeña ciudad que quieres llamar casa está compuesto de partículas de cuchara, porque, ¿qué otra explicación hay que justifique tu vida ahora mismo?

Y a la mañana siguiente te despiertas (aunque no hayas dormido, estrictamente hablando...) y ha nevado, sales de tu habitación y una niña de tres años que no recuerda haber visto nevar antes te dice que ha nevado, y tú te dispones a aplaudir, pero en el último momento decides que caerte por las escaleras es una mucho mejor manera de demostrar tu alegría por Todo En General y lo siguiente que sabes es que, efectivamente, estás tirada al pie de las escaleras (y por una vez, agradeces sinceramente la obsesión con la moqueta que tienen en este país...)
Te haces el desayuno y miras por la ventana mientras te tomas tu té y una vocecita dice que nunca te había visto sonreír tanto.
Y tú contestas "¿Seguro?" pero piensas "Pues claro que no".


evening*: cuando empecé a escribir este post, que fue ayer a la noche cuando llegué a casa, decía "según acabe de escribir", pero una maravillosamente surrealista conversación en facebook me impidió hacer ninguna de ambas cosas. De hoy no pasa, though xD

I love it when silence is not awkward

Soy consciente desde hace tiempo, diría prácticamente que desde que llegué, de lo bien que me estaba portando socialmente hablando. Participo en las conversaciones de mi alrededor, miro a la gente cuando me hablan y también al hablar...

Y estaba identificando ese comportamiento con "llevarlo bien".

Ayer llegué pronto al D&D y me senté con los que ya estaban allá, que no incluía a nadie de mi grupo (acabé felizmente sentada al lado de Oink, by the way). Cuando llegó M. me levanté de donde estaba para ir a hablar con ella pero dejando todas mis cosas en mi sitio, hablé un rato con ella y con F. y luego... luego me volví a sentar con esa maravillosa gente extraña que conforma el D&D.

Y ahí estuve, sentada, pintando, escuchando la conversación que tenían en la mesa, disfrutando del silencio que emanaba de Oink a mi lado, tranquilamente... y lo disfruté muchísimo e hizo que me diera de cuenta de que, por muy bien que lleve ahora mismo el contacto social, yo sigo siendo yo y mi medio no es el oral.

El silencio sigue siendo mi estado natural y en el que me siento más comoda aunque ahora me cueste mantenerlo, a veces.

(Aunque lo mejor de la noche fuera el hecho de que, cuando yo me iba a ir, Oink abriera por primera -vale, bien, segunda- vez la boca para decirme que le había gustado mi dibujo y estuvimos hablando un ratito -qué felicidad más estúpida)

Edito para añadir pésimas fotos de los dibujos que hice :)

 Esto lo tengo que digitalizar y currar un poquillo en ello y acabará siendo mi fondo de escritorio xD

No se aprecia del todo bien, pone "Read. Be a Smartass". Quería meterle más tiempo también pero empecé a plantearme ponerle mostacho a la muchacha y cuando me dí cuenta, me obligué a dejarlo estar...

heading to four months: I want to stay here

Es algo que yo, conociéndome, sabía que pasaría.
No ha habido, de hecho un sólo día desde que llegué en el que mi mente no haya reproducido aquel momento a solas con mi prima, sentada en el sofá de su casa por primera vez, unas horas más tarde de que ella, y toda la familia de mi padre, se enteraran de que me venía a Cork.
Mi prima, la loca de mi prima, se sentó a mi lado, me miró gravemente, y escupió lo siguiente: "¿Vas a volver?".

Yo, ya desde entonces, sabía que mi respuesta, si dependiera sólo de mi, sería negativa. Ya ni me acuerdo de hace cuantos años decidí que mi país era Irlanda.

Pero nada es tan sencillo como eso.

No sé como está mi padre, porque siempre lo veo sentado y, en las conversaciones por Skype con mi familia, el tema se toca pero sin entrar en detalle. No sé si mi padre va a vivir más o menos de cinco años, y no sé cómo de rápidamente se va a convertir en alguien completamente dependiente.

No quiero tener que hacerme cargo de mi padre.

No quiero que mi madre tenga que hacerse cargo de mi padre (ni sola ni con ayuda de nadie).

No quiero que mi padre necesite que se hagan cargo de él.

No quiero volver a casa y aterrizar en una realidad tan horrible y tan encadenante, y no quiero quedarme fingiendo que no pasa nada, fingiendo que puedo quedarme, y sabiendo que no es cierto, sabiendo que mi ausencia tiene consecuencias allá donde falto.


Pero quiero quedarme, porque no pertenezco a mi casa ni a mi pueblo, porque quiero pertenecer a esto que estoy viviendo y quiero ser libre...

y no puedo seguir escribiendo esto porque no es buena idea llorar sobre un ordenador portatil.

Nota aclaratoria: nomenclatura

No tengo del todo claro qué hacía al principio, pero cada vez hay más y más gente a la que menciono en el blog, y desde hace unas entradas empecé una clasificación nomenclaturística (xD) que supongo que tengo que explicar, porque una es como es y no usa nombres, pero luego todo se complica mucho.

Empecé usando iniciales para todo, pero por alguna extraña razón pasé a utilizar los nombres de las iniciales ("Erre" etc.) con los miembros de mi hostfamily. Esto me vino muy bien porque me permite diferenciarlos de las amigas a las que menciono, que sí van con la inicial y punto.

En la última entrada os hablaba de Edwin y Oink... pues bien, eso son gente de la que hablo que no pertenece, en principio, a mi grupo, con los que uso, simplemente, apodos.

Bien es cierto que los apodos son algo a lo que una le tiene mucha simpatía y puede ser que acabe utilizando apodos para referirme a mis amigas, pero en tal caso también lo explicaré.

Ah, y después d ela tarde de hoy, me planteo utilizar nombres de dinosaurios con mi familia xD

Y como esta entrada es incluso más aburrida de lo habitual, os la voy a amenizar un poco;

My life is getting more and more weird every moment

A ver.

El último D&D fue relevante en dos aspectos que no comente:

1. "Edwin", que es un personaje muy curioso, nos invitó a un concierto de se grupo este viernes, que más tarde y via facebook descubrimos que en realidad era su fiesta de cumpleaños. Cuando todavía pensábamos que era sólo un concierto (aparte de montarnos una teoría conspiratoria) decidimos que molaría ir, y al descubrir que era su cumpleaños tooooodo se volvió muy awkward peeeeeero resulta que "Oink" va y...

2. Oink es la respuesta a algo que me preguntó M. la primera vez que vino a un D&D en condiciones: "¿Quién es ese chico y por qué no habla?. Y he decidido explotar mi sano interés en él.

Todo esto nos lleva a pretender ir a una fiesta de cumpleaños de un chico desconocido con, lógicamente, un regalo. Si resulta que no es el tipo de fiesta de cumpleaños en la cual se presupone que hay regalos, siempre podemos no dárselo...

Buffff.

Cuánta paciencia tengo que agradecerte, M. Porque yo en realidad no tengo cucharas para hacer esto.

Pero vamos a ver: hacer amistades irlandesas está dentro de la lista, ¿no?, pues eso.

Drink and Draw

Drink and Draw es la maravillosa actividad en la que me lió Jota, basada en, como el propio nombre indica, beber mientras dibujas. O dibujar mientras bebes, según.
Se lleva a cabo cada dos semanas el martes y el jueves respectivamente en un bar que mola mucho.

La mayoría de la gente que pasa por ahí es muy buena así que me da un poco de vergüenza hacer públicas mis creaciones, pero, qué leches, allá voy:

 Esto es... algo muy poco inspirado. De hecho, copié el posa vasos... pero fue idea de L.!

 Esto también es de la última sesión (este jueves), y fue muy divertido.

 Esto... digamos que lo explicaré en su momento xD. Se llama Ana Carla, ICarly para los clientes.

 Funny story, now. Esto lo dibujé en el primero de los D&D a los que fui con Jota... la cuestión es que se confundió y ¡no había D&D alguno!

Y esto es del primer actual D&D, al que fuimos F. y yo.

Christmas (three months)

Pues claro que han sido las navidades más raras (hay quien diría "bizarras" ;P) de mi vida.

El 24, que aquí ni es Noche Buena ni es nada, tuve mi primera crisis de ansiedad aquí, sin mayor motivo (bueno, sí, que no sabía que se esperaba de mí) cuando subí a cambiarme, y me encerré en mi habitación un rato largo... hasta que, cuando se iban a misa, a Erre se le ocurrió que yo podría querer acompañarles.
Que en el fondo no era el caso, pero yo no estaba en situación de decir que no a nada, y tengo que reconocer que me salvó bastante la vida.

Así que la primera cosa Navideña que hice fue tragarme una misa cantada, en inglés de hora y media. No puedo decidir cual de les tres características resaltar, así que voy a hacer la siguiente aberración: cantada, en inglés, de hora y media.

Según la información que yo tenía lo que seguía era pasar informalmente por Nana and Granda's a decir "How'yah", pero cuando llegamos me encontré con que ahí había primos que yo todavía no conocía. Después de que cada niño cantara un villancico (yo me libré escondiéndome detrás del sofá, literalmente) pasamos a la cocina, y ocurrió algo muy raro...
Nana abrió todas las cazuelas de comida que tenía preparadas para la cena de navidad, cortó varias rodajas de cada cosa, lo dispuso en una fuente en la mesa y a "cenar". A cuadritos me quedé.

Nos fuimos prontito a casa, y menos mal, porque cuando, a las 6.30 de la mañana siguiente, me despertaron los niños, casi me muero.
Erre me bajó al salón de la mano porque es así de mona, y... estaba todo lleno de regalos. Pero de verdad. TODO-EL-SALÓN-LLENO-DE-REALOS. Me costó muchísimo reaccionar ante semejante visión... pero más todavía costó desenvolver todo aquello.
A las nueve y media Ka hizo té y desayunamos, cada uno bastante por su lado, y yo me subía arreglar. Me puse mi vestido de 25 euros del Dunnes y Ka (con quien, por cierto, la confianza se disparó desde el momento del 24 en el que se enteró que le había regalado "The Hobbit" a Be por su cumple) me dijo que iba muy posh.

Bueno, al rato nos dimos un lovely walk que incluyó hacer cafradas como subirnos a los montículos de los márgenes de la carretera a admirar la view, y cuando llegamos a casa empezamos a cenar. Sí, a eso de las cuatro de la tarde... los seis y Jota. Siete personitas para el día de Navidad. Muy raro todo. Nos fuimos al salón y nos tragamos una peli antes del postre. Y después, otra. Yo no entendía nada.

Por suerte para mi salud mental M. estaba libre al día siguiente así que me piré para Cork y entre ella y L. me engañaron para que pasara la noche allá, al día siguiente tenía babysitting y en nada nos plantamos en el fin de semana que...

Bufff.

Me lo he pasado genial, pero no sé ni por qué.
(Bueno, claro que sí, por la compañía, porque a veces tienes ganas de esforzarte por gente).
A ver.
Este fin de semana me hizo entender que son las Navidades para un ama de casa, porque M. y yo nos pasamos cocinando desde la noche del sábado (¿quién tiene un plan mejor que hacer bechamel para croquetas un sábado por la noche? Yo no) hasta... hasta ayer a las cuatro de la tarde. No he excluído la mañana del lunes pero tampoco he contado las lentejas para el lunch del sábado, y antes de eso hubo que hacer una lista con todo lo que nos hacía falta, que luego se desdobló en tres listas: lo que ya teníamos, lo que había que comprar el sábado en el tesco y lo que había que comprar el domingo en otros sitios. Planeamos qué cocinar cuándo de tal manera que todo estuviera listo cuando J. tuviera el coche y L. estuviera en casa (esto último lo calculamos, aunque lo hiciéramos mal) y aprovechamos el exceso de materia prima para comer y cenar during the weekend.

Pues eso, cada una aportó su granito de arena para que, al final, las cuatro (-peladas que pasamos a Navidad sin volver a casa) tuviéramos nuestra cena de Fin de Año en condiciones, con uvas y Anne Igartiburu y todo.

Tengo que pedir perdón públicamente por ponerme borde de más con la bechamel el martes, espero que ya se me conozca lo suficiente como para saber que lo que en realidad estoy diciendo no pretende ser tan horrible como suena.

Y bueno, me voy a saltar detalles porque se alarga, pero también tuvimos comida de Año Nuevo :)

Y de momento las vacaciones de los niños no las llevo demasiado mal, aunque agradezco que no sea una semana completa lo que me toca aguantar...