Priority Use

Generalization.
USA
Getting over things.
Home.

Sometimes I do things that just aren't "me." Like this weekend for example. Who that was, I have no idea. But, she sure did have a lot of fun. I talked to my friend about this. It sort of worried me on one hand--to do things that I always said I would never do (that wasn't the first...), does that make sense? But, she made me really think about what it means to be "me." If I did it, then obviously there is something in me to compel me to do certain things. I don't know how to express myself, really. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I am trying to have more confidence in my ability to be whoever I feel like being at whatever moment in the day, for whatever reason. If I didn't hurt anyone, and I was having fun, then that's what matters, right? So, perhaps it was me. It just was a me that doesn't come out very often.

Yesterday, I went to the University of Barcelona and studied in their library. For some reason I really enjoy going to schools that I don't attend and walking around. When I am home while CU is still in session, I like to walk around campus, picnic on the field, etc. I've even been known to attend classes! There is something about being somewhere anonymously, where I'm really not supposed to be that I find really exciting. Yeah, as you've probably figured out by now, it doesn't take much....

Time for a falafel.

If that's not exciting, than I don't know what is.

I have plans...lots of them!

Tonight: Going out for the night with a friend from class. There's a huge fiesta on the beach all night long (when Spanish people say "all night" they truly mean "all night").

Saturday: Taking a train to Girona with another couple of girls that I met. That night a part at the friend from class's apt!

Yay!

Hmmm...all this excitement has made me tired. Time to rest.

I just found out that a friend with whom I served on a city board in high school died this weekend. He was only 22. Although I didn't know him very well, and never kept in touch, I still feel personally affected by his death. Death is such a weird thing, because it can just happen. I think I have this perception that other people die, but that I won't (at least not for a very long time), but I realize that I never know what is going to happen to me, and that's an odd realization to have. My mom and I got into a mini-argument on Monday because I told her that I was going to go to a "Traveller's Bar" that night to try and meet some compañeros for my travells. She told me that I should be careful. At that moment, I was so bored with being by myself all the time, that I just started crying....I was finally taking the risk of doing something about not knowing anyone, and all my mom could do was say "be careful!" Of course I was going to be careful. I don't usually do ridiculous, stupid, unsafe things, so it made me mad that she said such a meaningless thing at that moment. But, I can't even imagine what it's like for a mother to have to let her child do things, to not make her stay inside everyday in case something bad happens, in case she never sees her child again. That's what this poor mother of my friend is now dealing with, and that's really painful to think about. So, of course, we can't go about our lives always looking up and down and all around, not willing to "do" out of fear. But, I also want to always remember that my moment could be one of many, of any. That even 20-somethings are not immune to death.

I don't know how my friend died, but I do know that it could have been me. I don't want to forget that when I talk to or see anyone dear to me could be the last. When I was younger (and even now), I hated going to bed being mad at anyone. I have an obsession with reconciliation, with forgiveness. What if something happened in the night, and I never got to say I was sorry.

Okay, this is no longer making any sense, and I'm just rambling on. I know I shouldn't be sad that he died. And, I'm not really sad. That's not a good word to describe how I feel. An opposite of "happy" that doesn't really mean much. His death should serve as a reminder of how I want to live my life. Something that I do, honestly, think about every day.

I think I may have been a little harsh on home videos in my last entry. I must honestly admit, that I, in fact, do enjoy watching other people's home videos. But, only because I'm weird like that.

No one really likes to watch other people's home videos.

Why?

Because they're boring.

This really doesn't make sense, though. Even the people who tape family events, vacations, etc know that they wouldn't want to watch someone else's video. That they probably won't even watch their own. But, this case really isn't necessary and shouldn't be. If people would just follow the simple rule of home videos (that they would want other people to follow: let's call it "The Golden Rule of Home Videos."), then all would be good. "Do to people what thou should want done to thyself." In other words, if you don't want to watch someone else's (or your own, really) 5 minute tape of their (or your) son picking his nose, or a 2 minute take on the wake of the boat, or the slow progression of the family as they wait in a line to see Michaelangelo's David, then it'd probably be a good idea not to tape it.

It's really not that difficult.

1. Tuesday: I went to Starbucks and bought some tea. I read my book for 3 hours on the comfy chairs while it rained outside.

2. Thursday: I bought an ice cream cone at McDonalds. I hadn't been to McDonalds in 6 years. The last time I went, I also bought ice cream. It was really good and really cheap.

3. Friday: I wanted ice cream from McDonalds. I looked for one but couldn't find it. But, looking for McDonalds felt sinful enough.

4. Sunday: I stood in line for 10 minutes for ice cream at McDonalds. When I ordered, I was informed that "no hay conos." And, she wouldn't serve it to me in a cup. I left. Vowed never to go again. I took it as a sign.

I really like adults.

I think that most young people shrug off adults. They're boring. Uninteresting. They have nothing in common.

I am just always so fascinated and inspired by what people do and know. I so enjoy talking to people about their lives. About what they have done and about what they still want to do.

The other day, I went for a hike with 5 men and 2 women who were at least 35 years older than me. It must have looked absolutely ridiculous. But, I loved it. They just talked to me the entire time--having an opinion that reflected the accumlation of experiences that comes with years. Living. The older I get, the more I realize, too, that it is not the events in one's life that makes them interesting, or the experiences that one has had. It's really just the act of living. This all brings wisdom.

My mom really likes old people. Maybe I get this from her.

I really hate to say it, but I am ready to come home. I don't hate to admit this because I don't think that people should want to come home, but more because I don't want to rush through my experience here. I know that I am doing something incredible that most people never get a chance to do, and I feel terrible for not wanting to do it right now! So, I am going to try and be happy to get home, while enjoying myself here.

Mostly, I just have too much time and don't have a good plan for things to do. Last night, I scheduled out the coming week, so hopefully things will shape up better. I don't know.

I sort of assumed that travelling alone was the thing to do. That I was doing something exciting. Special. However, everyone seems shocked as to my situation! They can't understand how I can manage! It's funny how I had this assumption that everyone did this, but it turns out this isn't the case.

Hmmm...that made no sense. As is usually the case, it makes sense in my head.

I'm off to enjoy something. I don't know what. But, I'm sure that I will find it.

Nothing incites my independent spirit more than knowing that I have friends! Florence was pretty much boring and lonely. I didn't know anyone there and I just couldn't wait to get to Rome. I actually spent much of the afternoon writing an email and ended up taking an earlier train than originally planned.

But, I got to Rome, met people, and wanted to be free! The people were wonderful and I appreciated their willingness to be my friend, but the next day I just walked and explored and watched for hours and hours upon hours. What got me through the day was knowing that I was going home to people who know me!

My roommate and I, here, have become really good friends. I have weird perceptions of things and I never think I'm good/cool/pretty/skinny/smart enough to be with these people that I'm always comparing myself with. She has always been one of them. I was worried when we decided to live with each other that I would constantly be comparing myself to her and that it would make me crazy. Instead, it has been such an amazing experience. Our Chicago lives couldn't be much more different. I don't know any of her friends. She never does campus activities. She's one of the people that I just assumed I couldn't relate to. But, here, it's totally different. We're so similar (we're also different, but that's good) and we talk in a real, meaningful way.

Anyway, the point of all of this: I was invited out to a Hookah lounge the other night. She was going and I really didn't feel like it. That made her really mad. It was the excuses that I used, for not going. Not that I didn't want to go. She gave me a really long "lecture" (that term is so terribly demeaning, but I don't mean it that way. It was a very heartfelt, emotional lecture) about how she wished I would go and how she thought that my excuses were terrible and that I should reexamine why I didn't want to go. It all got to me so much. I always think that I have it pulled together in that I'm really good at hiding how I actually feel. And, truth be told, I am really good at hiding how I feel: I'm not as confident, as nice, as "pulled together" as I appear to most people. But, hiding all of this is exhausting. And, I think she sees right through it. What an amazing experience. I don't even think that she realized how meaningful it was that she brought everything up. She said that she thought she was overstepping her boundaries--and she probably was. But, isn't that what good friends do? They overstep their boundaries? I still haven't said anything to her about her comments. And, I don't know if I will. But, in any case. It meant a lot to me that she cared enough to try.