7:00 pm
I'm feeling very "miss-y" and misty-eyed. I'm lonely. I want to "go home." I don't want to stay until November if I can't travel. I can't travel if I don't have money. I won't have money if I don't work. I can't work if I want to travel. Hoo Boy. We're being whiney. I have no desire to go to the beach. It's too hot to ride. So I've been inside all afternoon. Got a letter from Carolee, and mail from Steve. Right now I have $3000 in the bank. Shit. I need to work, don't I? Didn't get paid again. Didn't meet with Bernardo. Same old. Don't know what I'm gonna do. Down. Down. Down. I've got to get out of this house! I'll just get on the bike and go -- somewhere. I could go for a nice Michigan snowstorm right now! Arrgh! I can't believe I said that! But it's true...
8:30 pm
So it was a nice bike ride. Went a little way up the "tetas." And I'm exhausted. But I feel good, too. My back has been hurting again -- but in a different place. Great. I've been being a news-aholic lately. Nine-o-clock Spanish news. ABC News in the morning. But I only buy papers every 3 days or so. Too expensive! I hope I don't have to take $$ from my Visa. The dollar has plummeted. I like when this neighborhood black kitten comes over to play. He got into my apartment in the middle of the night the other night. Scared the hell out of me. I want to write tonight. Stoned.
9:15 pm
So I'm watching what appears to be the weekly bullfight round-up. Actually, there are shows on 2 channels. Reviewing the Ferias of Malaga and Bilbao. Ouch. A picador got thrown but good. Looked like a ragdoll. I think they said he'll be okay. Yow. I'm flipping from the news -- Hurricane Andrew in Miami. Double yow! 42° in Sevilla -- that's 108° F. Only 35° here. And, man, I can't believe what's going on in Sarajevo. Stunned. How can there be such hatred -- between neighbors. Miami isn't the capital of Florida! Y'know, Kiko told me yesterday that he doesn't like the Feria. And not just because of the crowds. He doesn't like people dancing Sevillanas. This is Malaga, not Sevilla! They should be dancing Malaguenas. Well, that's just silly. Besides, there are some people dancing Malaguenas. Malaguenan Pride. Here's an interesting ststistic. 85% of Spanish youth don't disapprove of homosexuality. Surprising. Documentary on pinguinos on the Moroccan channel. In French. Man, they can swim fast!
11:30 pm
Well, Anneleis came over and we watched "El Dorado" and ate popcorn and drank juice. Nice. I had been jammin' with The Smith's. I had thought of going out tonight, but I won't. Save up and go out tomorrow. I have 1000 pesetas to my name! I should call Kasia and arrange a tennis match, but my back hurts again.
Monday, August 24, 1992
Sunday, August 23, 1992
2:00 amThis is what I consider a nice night. I had stayed in -- watching the news, reading, writing letters -- until almost 1:00. Then I got dressed and went out to Bolivia/Donde. Saw several people I knew (but not the ones I wanted to see -- Joel or Tomas), then came back home at 2:00. It feels good that I know people, though. Mostly transients, however. Now I'm home listening to Laurie Anderson and eating pound cake. Perfect. I had thought of going to the feria, but decided not to, Too expensive, y'know. I did wander around the day-time feria today. It's really great, just observing. Seeing horses tied to buildings on narrow streets, probably as they were 100 years ago. And the dancing in the streets. I'll have to go again tomorrow. Last day.
11:50 pm
Why do I have such an inferiority complex? I'm so amazed that Joel has taken such an interest in me. Do I think I'm not worthy of his friendship -- just because he's got money, a great job, good looks, friends in high places and an outgoing personality? Maybe he really likes me. Who am I? Sally Fields? Why is it so hard to believe? I have the same complex, of course, with my Spanish. I think it's so bad that no one would be able to stand listening to me. But I do get a lot of encouraging words. Why don't I believe them? Why am I so guarded? Why shouldn't people like me? Or want to hire me? I'm reading another self-help book, "The Road Less Traveled." I do need some therapy. I can examine myself only so far. Now I need another point of view. I did nothing today. Okay, I did go through a Spanish TV production manual. I thought it'd be helpful if another job opportunity comes up. I just watched the fireworks from my terrace. Nice. Why couldn't they have been there last time, so we wouldn't have had to scramble at the last minute! I've slept a lot this weekend. I needed to catch up. The nights have been much cooler lately -- even needed a blanket. But the days are still 95°.
Saturday, August 22, 1992
2:30 pm
I feel I should write, write, write. So much to say. But I also feel I should sleep, sleep, sleep. Even though I didn’t get up until 12:30 today. Went to another disco -- Carambuco -- with Joel. I loved the music. A lot of my old college faves -- Talking Heads, the Cure, Dexy’s, Sugarcubes. But there was nobody there. Too bad. It’s a wonderful open-air disco out in the country. Beautiful setting. The Polish girl, Kasia, and 2 Germans and 2 other friends of Joel’s came, too. The German guy, Tomas, is rather attractive. Ay. Another fantasy lover. But he’s tall, short blond hair (I love that), well-built, nice smile. He’s a psychiatrist, 31 years old. Must pursue. I’ve been fantasizing about Joel, too. Gettin’ dangerous. He still talks, talks, talks, about girls, but the way he looks at me ... Aw, I’m gonna drive myself crazy! He’s so nice to me. I saw him at Bolivia Thursday. First thing he said was, “You blew the job of your life!” Seems he had been to Bolivia looking for me Tuesday and Wednesday nights. In fact, he brought the producer from Canal Sur with him! There was an opening for a camera/audio position. Joel said he even came to my apartment complex and called me at work. Couldn’t locate me. So they gave the job to someone else! $1800/month. Oh well. I’m being pretty philosophical about it. It just wasn’t “meant to be.” Maybe something else will come up. Joel’s going to London on Monday -- said he’ll look into what’s available. The BBC does a lot of shooting down here. I’m really feeling like I want to go back anyway. So it just doesn’t matter! I had expected to go out “for a drink” just to see Joel on Thursday. But he invited me to Oh! Marbella!, the exclusive disco in Marbella. Of course, I accepted! There were two other guys going, Kenny -- a Spanish guy, pretty obnoxious -- and a German named Uli. So we went over to Donde to find some girls to come with us. Que guay. Finally, after a 1/2 hour search and several rejections, two girls agreed to come. We had two cars. Joel wanted me to ride with him -- just the two of us. Makes you go, “Hmmm.” When we stopped for gas, I noticed the invitations on the dashboard -- Black and White Party (I was wearing jeans and a pink shirt, hadn’t put cologne or even deodorant on, looking scruffy -- really feeling like I’d fit in in Marbella!), and it said it was for August 18. Never mind that this was August 20. Oh well. I, of course, kept my mouth shut. I just wanted to see what would happen. So we drive the 30 miles to Marbella and arrive at this beautiful setting. At the door, the invitations were refused -- I’m having fun now. Luckily, Joel knew one of the workers. Apparently, he had brought some famous actors and producers there once, so he’s got some clout there. The place was gorgeous. Rather packed. Typical techno music on the dance floor inside. Outside, there was an incredible pool -- often used as a location for commercial shoots, says Joel -- surrounded by tables and chairs and a jazz band on stage. Very nice. There was also access to the beach. This was about 3:30 am when we arrived. We stayed about an hour. The girls danced, Uli danced a bit. I thought it strange that we had spent all that time tracking down these girls and then ignored them! I ordered a beer. Joel had told me it would be expensive, but I didn’t pay for it. Well, she never asked me! I had my 2000 pesetas ready! I’m so glad I didn’t pay. I’m so broke! So anyhow, we left and I was home at 5:00 -- after I had told myself, “2:00 at the latest.” Right. Joel and I did get a chance to talk a little on the drive. I’m becoming more and more attracted to him. He seems to like me, too. But keeps talking about girls. I say nothing on the subject. I think he was a little jealous when Kasia gave me her telephone number. We’re going to play tennis sometime. So when I have nights like these past two, I think, “Wow, I could really like it here.” But I do need to change my job situation. It’s just bringing me down! But the social life’s been bringing me right back up. I’m actually enjoying Donde/Bolivia! Because I’m meeting people. Why is that so hard for me to do? Joel is so good at it! I found out his mother is English, father is French and he was born in Malaga. He also works for a Dutch clothing company called Nomad. Damn interesting guy. Rafa came over last night. I was supposed to meet him and Kiko at Donde, but didn’t see them. Tengo que practicar mi espanol. I haven’t gotten any mail lately. Arrgh. I wonder if Steve has paid my Visa bill. I may need to dip into that account soon. Shit. I don’t want to spend the rest of my savings. But I don’t want to work either! People love my American accent! That’s nice. I haven’t gone back to the Feria. Too bad. It is kind of fun seeing people on horseback occasionally riding down the street or on the beach! Only in Spain. Only during the Feria!
I feel I should write, write, write. So much to say. But I also feel I should sleep, sleep, sleep. Even though I didn’t get up until 12:30 today. Went to another disco -- Carambuco -- with Joel. I loved the music. A lot of my old college faves -- Talking Heads, the Cure, Dexy’s, Sugarcubes. But there was nobody there. Too bad. It’s a wonderful open-air disco out in the country. Beautiful setting. The Polish girl, Kasia, and 2 Germans and 2 other friends of Joel’s came, too. The German guy, Tomas, is rather attractive. Ay. Another fantasy lover. But he’s tall, short blond hair (I love that), well-built, nice smile. He’s a psychiatrist, 31 years old. Must pursue. I’ve been fantasizing about Joel, too. Gettin’ dangerous. He still talks, talks, talks, about girls, but the way he looks at me ... Aw, I’m gonna drive myself crazy! He’s so nice to me. I saw him at Bolivia Thursday. First thing he said was, “You blew the job of your life!” Seems he had been to Bolivia looking for me Tuesday and Wednesday nights. In fact, he brought the producer from Canal Sur with him! There was an opening for a camera/audio position. Joel said he even came to my apartment complex and called me at work. Couldn’t locate me. So they gave the job to someone else! $1800/month. Oh well. I’m being pretty philosophical about it. It just wasn’t “meant to be.” Maybe something else will come up. Joel’s going to London on Monday -- said he’ll look into what’s available. The BBC does a lot of shooting down here. I’m really feeling like I want to go back anyway. So it just doesn’t matter! I had expected to go out “for a drink” just to see Joel on Thursday. But he invited me to Oh! Marbella!, the exclusive disco in Marbella. Of course, I accepted! There were two other guys going, Kenny -- a Spanish guy, pretty obnoxious -- and a German named Uli. So we went over to Donde to find some girls to come with us. Que guay. Finally, after a 1/2 hour search and several rejections, two girls agreed to come. We had two cars. Joel wanted me to ride with him -- just the two of us. Makes you go, “Hmmm.” When we stopped for gas, I noticed the invitations on the dashboard -- Black and White Party (I was wearing jeans and a pink shirt, hadn’t put cologne or even deodorant on, looking scruffy -- really feeling like I’d fit in in Marbella!), and it said it was for August 18. Never mind that this was August 20. Oh well. I, of course, kept my mouth shut. I just wanted to see what would happen. So we drive the 30 miles to Marbella and arrive at this beautiful setting. At the door, the invitations were refused -- I’m having fun now. Luckily, Joel knew one of the workers. Apparently, he had brought some famous actors and producers there once, so he’s got some clout there. The place was gorgeous. Rather packed. Typical techno music on the dance floor inside. Outside, there was an incredible pool -- often used as a location for commercial shoots, says Joel -- surrounded by tables and chairs and a jazz band on stage. Very nice. There was also access to the beach. This was about 3:30 am when we arrived. We stayed about an hour. The girls danced, Uli danced a bit. I thought it strange that we had spent all that time tracking down these girls and then ignored them! I ordered a beer. Joel had told me it would be expensive, but I didn’t pay for it. Well, she never asked me! I had my 2000 pesetas ready! I’m so glad I didn’t pay. I’m so broke! So anyhow, we left and I was home at 5:00 -- after I had told myself, “2:00 at the latest.” Right. Joel and I did get a chance to talk a little on the drive. I’m becoming more and more attracted to him. He seems to like me, too. But keeps talking about girls. I say nothing on the subject. I think he was a little jealous when Kasia gave me her telephone number. We’re going to play tennis sometime. So when I have nights like these past two, I think, “Wow, I could really like it here.” But I do need to change my job situation. It’s just bringing me down! But the social life’s been bringing me right back up. I’m actually enjoying Donde/Bolivia! Because I’m meeting people. Why is that so hard for me to do? Joel is so good at it! I found out his mother is English, father is French and he was born in Malaga. He also works for a Dutch clothing company called Nomad. Damn interesting guy. Rafa came over last night. I was supposed to meet him and Kiko at Donde, but didn’t see them. Tengo que practicar mi espanol. I haven’t gotten any mail lately. Arrgh. I wonder if Steve has paid my Visa bill. I may need to dip into that account soon. Shit. I don’t want to spend the rest of my savings. But I don’t want to work either! People love my American accent! That’s nice. I haven’t gone back to the Feria. Too bad. It is kind of fun seeing people on horseback occasionally riding down the street or on the beach! Only in Spain. Only during the Feria!
Friday, August 21, 1992
5:10 am
One drink! I swear I went to Bolivia for one drink! Just a re-cap for now. Details to follow.... Joel. Bolivia last two nights. Job -- camera, audio, languages. $1800/month. “Blew the job of a lifetime.” Oh, Marbella. 2:30 am. 18 August. 20 August. Black and white. Pink shirt, no deoderant. Donde looking for girls. 30 miles -- me and Joel. English car. What does he want from me? Why is he so interested in me? So nice to me? Why ask?
12:00 pm
I should get a shirt that says “I got fucked in Spain.” No money yet. Herbert says we’re going to sit down with Bernardo on Monday. I’m really feeling that I may not see the money. I definitely will quit if I do get it. Right now, I have $25.00 to my name. Fucked.
One drink! I swear I went to Bolivia for one drink! Just a re-cap for now. Details to follow.... Joel. Bolivia last two nights. Job -- camera, audio, languages. $1800/month. “Blew the job of a lifetime.” Oh, Marbella. 2:30 am. 18 August. 20 August. Black and white. Pink shirt, no deoderant. Donde looking for girls. 30 miles -- me and Joel. English car. What does he want from me? Why is he so interested in me? So nice to me? Why ask?
12:00 pm
I should get a shirt that says “I got fucked in Spain.” No money yet. Herbert says we’re going to sit down with Bernardo on Monday. I’m really feeling that I may not see the money. I definitely will quit if I do get it. Right now, I have $25.00 to my name. Fucked.
Thursday, August 20, 1992
11:00 am
So I’m back at work today. Herbert’s not here yet -- money’s not here yet! At least I do have some work to do. Looking through tapes, finding usable shots for a promo video. I keep telling myself to hang on for another four weeks, but my heart just isn’t in it. I think I can’t hold on anymore. I want to get out. I want to run away. Run home. Be safe. It is and option. And a very good-looking one these days. I wish Steve would send me my mail so I could see how much money I don’t have. So Herbert just called. He’s over at Bernardo’s trying to find out about my money. This’ll be interesting. I’m fed up with nothing working here. Now the Beta machine is down. Along with 2 other dubbing decks, the camera lights, one camcorder’s sound -- the other is still lying in pieces from 30 May. I really see absolutely no future.
11:00 pm
I’m feeling rather thought-less tonight. I don’t have a clue what to write about. Feeling blank. I wonder if I “need” drugs in order to be creative. Seems that way sometimes. I talked with super-cute Fran today. He was on vacation in Galicia and is now going to Ibiza. Ibiza! I thought he was gay! God, he’s cute. Um..... So Herbert never came in this morning. I still don’t have my money. Absolutely ridiculous. Y’know, I’m hoping that something will happen to “force” me to quit. Although I kinda enjoyed playing with ideas for the promo. As long as I have a concrete goal. An idea of what I’m supposed to do. Usually, I don’t have a clue. Went to the beach with Jeannet today. The waves were great! I’ll go to Bolivia tonight to look for Joel. Tomorrow’s Friday already. I wonder if we have a wedding Saturday or next Saturday. I should make an audiotape this weekend. It’s funny how I equate time with TV. It’s 11:20. I should be watching the local news. In the morning, I should be watching “The Today Show.” At 7:30, Jeopardy. I really don’t miss prime time, however. Oh, I just had a thought. No college football! Saturdays won’t be the same.
So I’m back at work today. Herbert’s not here yet -- money’s not here yet! At least I do have some work to do. Looking through tapes, finding usable shots for a promo video. I keep telling myself to hang on for another four weeks, but my heart just isn’t in it. I think I can’t hold on anymore. I want to get out. I want to run away. Run home. Be safe. It is and option. And a very good-looking one these days. I wish Steve would send me my mail so I could see how much money I don’t have. So Herbert just called. He’s over at Bernardo’s trying to find out about my money. This’ll be interesting. I’m fed up with nothing working here. Now the Beta machine is down. Along with 2 other dubbing decks, the camera lights, one camcorder’s sound -- the other is still lying in pieces from 30 May. I really see absolutely no future.
11:00 pm
I’m feeling rather thought-less tonight. I don’t have a clue what to write about. Feeling blank. I wonder if I “need” drugs in order to be creative. Seems that way sometimes. I talked with super-cute Fran today. He was on vacation in Galicia and is now going to Ibiza. Ibiza! I thought he was gay! God, he’s cute. Um..... So Herbert never came in this morning. I still don’t have my money. Absolutely ridiculous. Y’know, I’m hoping that something will happen to “force” me to quit. Although I kinda enjoyed playing with ideas for the promo. As long as I have a concrete goal. An idea of what I’m supposed to do. Usually, I don’t have a clue. Went to the beach with Jeannet today. The waves were great! I’ll go to Bolivia tonight to look for Joel. Tomorrow’s Friday already. I wonder if we have a wedding Saturday or next Saturday. I should make an audiotape this weekend. It’s funny how I equate time with TV. It’s 11:20. I should be watching the local news. In the morning, I should be watching “The Today Show.” At 7:30, Jeopardy. I really don’t miss prime time, however. Oh, I just had a thought. No college football! Saturdays won’t be the same.
Wednesday, August 19, 1992
3:00 pm
Listening to Tracy Chapman gets me down. Naw. Imagine that! I guess it reminds me of the time of life when I first heard it. Makes me think of "back home" and my friends. Yes, I think I'll be ready to go back in November. If not before. I was thinking of the elections. I'd sure love to be there to celebrate a Democratic victory! God, it would make me feel so much better about my country. About the direction in which it's headed. I was thinking more about living with Bob, too. Today I'm feeling that what I need is to be with Bob. I want to write him. Nothing syrupy or morose. Just honest. I stayed home today, because I pinched a nerve in my back and I'm pretty immobilized. Anneleis gave me a massage and that seemed to really help. But I’ve just been lying in bed all day. Sittin’ ‘n’ thinkin’. I had one of those strange chains of thought. I found myself wondering how to spell “Hozlo,” the British/Indian/Finnish guy. Why? Well, I had been thinking of whether or not I had written about him. I want “records” of everyone I’ve met here. I had been thinking of his friend, Reijo, and Barbara. I had thought of the time they stopped by my house on the way back from Aldi with two loaves of fresh, warm bread among their groceries. They had only asked for one, but since they couldn’t resist eating it so warm, they had almost eaten one loaf already and were glad they had another! I had been thinking how good that bread tasted -- because I’m hungry, and I had meant to get some bread at Aldi, but didn’t. Not too many jumps there, but still pretty weird. So I’ve been thinking that I really need to learn to play the guitar. I stayed in last night. First time in a while. I was going to cruise by Bolivia to see if Joel was there with job news, but I was too tired. Rafa came over. I didn’t go out with him and Kiko, either. Nor did I even go downstairs to talk for a while. So, should I “get involved” with Rafa? I’m not really attracted to him, but he is a nice guy. And I could certainly use some sex. It’s been a while. But then I think of Bob and his “dates.” And I get jealous. So I’m reading “Kindergarten” and one story is about eating at small cafes and diners. I think: wouldn’t that be fun? To travel across the USA? Meeting people would be easy -- they all speak the same language! Remember yelling, “Olly-olly-oxen-free!” when it was time to give up the hide and seek game and start over? Why did we say that?
7:00 pm
I wonder if my friends think of me often. I mean, I’m always thinking of Bob, or Matt and Eli, or Alyssa, or John. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have all my music here. Or to watch ABC News every morning. Makes me think more of “over there.” You know, the more I think about going back, the more excited I get. Why? Running back or charging forward? A little bit of both? This has been a nice day of doing nothing.
8:40 pm
You know, I just got another idea. Maybe I should move to Denver. I have family there. There’s a good-sized gay community. There’s a Latino community for my Spanish. CU at Boulder is close by. The winters aren’t great, but it’s sunnier than Detroit. Another thing to ponder.
9:20 pm
Crazy neighbors. Anneleis told everyone I was sick and my back hurt. Matilde sent Danny up with and analgesic spray. She says it’s the change in the weather. (What change? It's still HOT!) Danny asked if I had a cough or if my lungs hurt. I said no, but he brought me soup anyway and said I shouldn’t sleep with the windows open. Really, I just strained a muscle in the tiny shower stall! But it’s nice...
Listening to Tracy Chapman gets me down. Naw. Imagine that! I guess it reminds me of the time of life when I first heard it. Makes me think of "back home" and my friends. Yes, I think I'll be ready to go back in November. If not before. I was thinking of the elections. I'd sure love to be there to celebrate a Democratic victory! God, it would make me feel so much better about my country. About the direction in which it's headed. I was thinking more about living with Bob, too. Today I'm feeling that what I need is to be with Bob. I want to write him. Nothing syrupy or morose. Just honest. I stayed home today, because I pinched a nerve in my back and I'm pretty immobilized. Anneleis gave me a massage and that seemed to really help. But I’ve just been lying in bed all day. Sittin’ ‘n’ thinkin’. I had one of those strange chains of thought. I found myself wondering how to spell “Hozlo,” the British/Indian/Finnish guy. Why? Well, I had been thinking of whether or not I had written about him. I want “records” of everyone I’ve met here. I had been thinking of his friend, Reijo, and Barbara. I had thought of the time they stopped by my house on the way back from Aldi with two loaves of fresh, warm bread among their groceries. They had only asked for one, but since they couldn’t resist eating it so warm, they had almost eaten one loaf already and were glad they had another! I had been thinking how good that bread tasted -- because I’m hungry, and I had meant to get some bread at Aldi, but didn’t. Not too many jumps there, but still pretty weird. So I’ve been thinking that I really need to learn to play the guitar. I stayed in last night. First time in a while. I was going to cruise by Bolivia to see if Joel was there with job news, but I was too tired. Rafa came over. I didn’t go out with him and Kiko, either. Nor did I even go downstairs to talk for a while. So, should I “get involved” with Rafa? I’m not really attracted to him, but he is a nice guy. And I could certainly use some sex. It’s been a while. But then I think of Bob and his “dates.” And I get jealous. So I’m reading “Kindergarten” and one story is about eating at small cafes and diners. I think: wouldn’t that be fun? To travel across the USA? Meeting people would be easy -- they all speak the same language! Remember yelling, “Olly-olly-oxen-free!” when it was time to give up the hide and seek game and start over? Why did we say that?
7:00 pm
I wonder if my friends think of me often. I mean, I’m always thinking of Bob, or Matt and Eli, or Alyssa, or John. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have all my music here. Or to watch ABC News every morning. Makes me think more of “over there.” You know, the more I think about going back, the more excited I get. Why? Running back or charging forward? A little bit of both? This has been a nice day of doing nothing.
8:40 pm
You know, I just got another idea. Maybe I should move to Denver. I have family there. There’s a good-sized gay community. There’s a Latino community for my Spanish. CU at Boulder is close by. The winters aren’t great, but it’s sunnier than Detroit. Another thing to ponder.
9:20 pm
Crazy neighbors. Anneleis told everyone I was sick and my back hurt. Matilde sent Danny up with and analgesic spray. She says it’s the change in the weather. (What change? It's still HOT!) Danny asked if I had a cough or if my lungs hurt. I said no, but he brought me soup anyway and said I shouldn’t sleep with the windows open. Really, I just strained a muscle in the tiny shower stall! But it’s nice...
Tuesday, August 18, 1992
1:45 am
Hellos, good-byes. Good nights, bad nights. Said hello to Jeannet and Bek who are back in town again. Bek was bummed when he found out he just missed Andre. Whom I didn’t get a chance to really say good-bye to. The truck they were going to ride with didn’t go. So they were going to stay. Well, while I was at work, they decided to take the train. It’s okay. I hate emotional, long good-byes. I said good-bye to Yop, too. It was a long, drawn-out good-bye recalling the past, talking of the future, trying to find a pen and paper for addresses. I guess it kept me there long enough to see Bek, though. So it was a “good night” even though I didn’t see Joel. I knew several people there. But they’ll all be gone soon. Sometimes -- usually, now -- Bolivia/Donde are bad nights. I wrote a nice letter to Neil tonight. So many thoughts. Jeannet and I talked about how positive my experience has been, even if it hasn’t been “perfect.” Nine months -- or less, even -- may be long enough.
3:30 pm
Just sittin’ on the terrace -- thinkin’. Wrote some letters. Now I’m contemplative. Still thinking of quitting when I get paid. But I don’t think I will. I mean, I’m still only working 4 hours a day. It leaves me time to sit and think. Or to look for another job. If I quit now, I could probably make it to the end of September on the $700 I should be getting. I could spend another $1000 from savings to stay another month and travel a bit. That would just about deplete my savings, though. Or I could go back Oct. 1st. I wonder if I’d get my $500 back from my security deposit. I could work at BHSD until January, then take ESL and Spanish classes -- in some other city. Or I could come back to Malaga. I’d only want to came back if I had a job lined up. I wouldn’t want to go through all this uncertainty again. And I couldn’t afford it! But more likely, I’d stay in the States. Maybe I’m serious about going back to school in Fall ‘93. Instructional Technology? Spanish? ESL? Maybe something totally new that I haven’t really thought of yet. Something with travel, no? Or Linguistics. I think I could use some counseling. While looking back at my life I realized -- maybe for the first time -- that I didn’t really have a childhood. My mom was sick from the time I was 6 years old. That’s pretty heavy. I never felt really close to my family then. I still have a lot of walls even with my brothers and sisters. And especially w/cousins and aunts and uncles. Why is that? What’s blocking me? Am I really comfortable with my sexuality? Signals say no. Still not out to some people. Haven’t had serious relationships. But is it -- as Neil says -- just society’s view that we should all be in happy, loving relationships? It’s okay to march to a different beat. To develop your life as you see fit. Heck, yeah. I hate the heat during the day here. I’d love to go on a bike ride down the coast, but it’s still too hot. I need to sit on the beach and think. I miss Andre’s “All right, mate.” His pathetic attempt at sounding British. I met a Polish girl in Bolivia the other night. Actually, she lives in Munich now. I love sittin’ and thinkin’. I’ve been occasionally writing letters -- like a short note to Matt telling him how I miss “The Flintstones” -- or reading my journal, or eating something in between writing things down in here. Jolts my mind to all the little anecdotes of Malaga. Maybe I could write. I know, I could go live with Bob while I write my experiences -- maybe even compile my entire 15 years of my journal. That would be amazing. Sometimes I feel antsy. Like I “should be doing something!” Can’t even enjoy an afternoon of sittin’ ‘n’ thinkin’ without some guilt creeping in. Of course, I am doing something. Adjusting myself. Tinkering with the inner knobs and levers. Learning by reading, by writing, by observing. I’ve noticed that I can’t sit long without a million thoughts going through my head: I’d like to pick some almonds off that tree; why do flies like my feet so much; is it true that cicadas come up from the ground and make that awful August buzzing only on the last day of their lives; where are those busloads, but loads, of people coming from and going to; why doesn’t Malaga have -- or enforce -- a noise law -- the motorcycles are terrible!, could this fly be someone I know back on earth in another form -- he seems to be playing with me. All right, so they’re stupid thoughts, but I am doing something! And I’m reading “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” Simple thoughts. That make you think more complex thoughts. So why am I antsy? Because I “shouldn’t” be alone? Because I “should” ride my bike? One thing I need to keep reminding myself is that I can’t do everything! Oh, but I want to! I feel I need to. Experience it all! I think I’m pretty well-balanced. The Libra in me. I do bits of this and a little of that -- but don’t do a whole lot of anything! Does that sum up my life, or what? I’ve lately been comparing my experience here with college life. My apartment is the size of a dorm room, I never feel like studying or going to work (classes), the social life revolves around drinking, it’s fairly easy to meet people -- superficially, though, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life,” blah. blah, woof, woof. It’s 6:00, it’s getting cloudy -- time for a bike ride!
7:30 pm
There are so many things that I still don't know. For example: why do fish occasionally jump out of the water? Is it fun? Are they trying to escape? I know salmon do it while spawning, but that's going upstream in a river. Makes sense. But right in the middle of the sea? I'm sitting seaside at a fairly deserted beach about 10 km. east of my house. A very peaceful evening. Strange that it's cloudy. Makes everything look so different. I could sure go for a good thunderstorm. But I doubt that will happen. It's rained one day in the past (at least) 7 weeks.
Hellos, good-byes. Good nights, bad nights. Said hello to Jeannet and Bek who are back in town again. Bek was bummed when he found out he just missed Andre. Whom I didn’t get a chance to really say good-bye to. The truck they were going to ride with didn’t go. So they were going to stay. Well, while I was at work, they decided to take the train. It’s okay. I hate emotional, long good-byes. I said good-bye to Yop, too. It was a long, drawn-out good-bye recalling the past, talking of the future, trying to find a pen and paper for addresses. I guess it kept me there long enough to see Bek, though. So it was a “good night” even though I didn’t see Joel. I knew several people there. But they’ll all be gone soon. Sometimes -- usually, now -- Bolivia/Donde are bad nights. I wrote a nice letter to Neil tonight. So many thoughts. Jeannet and I talked about how positive my experience has been, even if it hasn’t been “perfect.” Nine months -- or less, even -- may be long enough.
3:30 pm
Just sittin’ on the terrace -- thinkin’. Wrote some letters. Now I’m contemplative. Still thinking of quitting when I get paid. But I don’t think I will. I mean, I’m still only working 4 hours a day. It leaves me time to sit and think. Or to look for another job. If I quit now, I could probably make it to the end of September on the $700 I should be getting. I could spend another $1000 from savings to stay another month and travel a bit. That would just about deplete my savings, though. Or I could go back Oct. 1st. I wonder if I’d get my $500 back from my security deposit. I could work at BHSD until January, then take ESL and Spanish classes -- in some other city. Or I could come back to Malaga. I’d only want to came back if I had a job lined up. I wouldn’t want to go through all this uncertainty again. And I couldn’t afford it! But more likely, I’d stay in the States. Maybe I’m serious about going back to school in Fall ‘93. Instructional Technology? Spanish? ESL? Maybe something totally new that I haven’t really thought of yet. Something with travel, no? Or Linguistics. I think I could use some counseling. While looking back at my life I realized -- maybe for the first time -- that I didn’t really have a childhood. My mom was sick from the time I was 6 years old. That’s pretty heavy. I never felt really close to my family then. I still have a lot of walls even with my brothers and sisters. And especially w/cousins and aunts and uncles. Why is that? What’s blocking me? Am I really comfortable with my sexuality? Signals say no. Still not out to some people. Haven’t had serious relationships. But is it -- as Neil says -- just society’s view that we should all be in happy, loving relationships? It’s okay to march to a different beat. To develop your life as you see fit. Heck, yeah. I hate the heat during the day here. I’d love to go on a bike ride down the coast, but it’s still too hot. I need to sit on the beach and think. I miss Andre’s “All right, mate.” His pathetic attempt at sounding British. I met a Polish girl in Bolivia the other night. Actually, she lives in Munich now. I love sittin’ and thinkin’. I’ve been occasionally writing letters -- like a short note to Matt telling him how I miss “The Flintstones” -- or reading my journal, or eating something in between writing things down in here. Jolts my mind to all the little anecdotes of Malaga. Maybe I could write. I know, I could go live with Bob while I write my experiences -- maybe even compile my entire 15 years of my journal. That would be amazing. Sometimes I feel antsy. Like I “should be doing something!” Can’t even enjoy an afternoon of sittin’ ‘n’ thinkin’ without some guilt creeping in. Of course, I am doing something. Adjusting myself. Tinkering with the inner knobs and levers. Learning by reading, by writing, by observing. I’ve noticed that I can’t sit long without a million thoughts going through my head: I’d like to pick some almonds off that tree; why do flies like my feet so much; is it true that cicadas come up from the ground and make that awful August buzzing only on the last day of their lives; where are those busloads, but loads, of people coming from and going to; why doesn’t Malaga have -- or enforce -- a noise law -- the motorcycles are terrible!, could this fly be someone I know back on earth in another form -- he seems to be playing with me. All right, so they’re stupid thoughts, but I am doing something! And I’m reading “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” Simple thoughts. That make you think more complex thoughts. So why am I antsy? Because I “shouldn’t” be alone? Because I “should” ride my bike? One thing I need to keep reminding myself is that I can’t do everything! Oh, but I want to! I feel I need to. Experience it all! I think I’m pretty well-balanced. The Libra in me. I do bits of this and a little of that -- but don’t do a whole lot of anything! Does that sum up my life, or what? I’ve lately been comparing my experience here with college life. My apartment is the size of a dorm room, I never feel like studying or going to work (classes), the social life revolves around drinking, it’s fairly easy to meet people -- superficially, though, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life,” blah. blah, woof, woof. It’s 6:00, it’s getting cloudy -- time for a bike ride!
7:30 pm
There are so many things that I still don't know. For example: why do fish occasionally jump out of the water? Is it fun? Are they trying to escape? I know salmon do it while spawning, but that's going upstream in a river. Makes sense. But right in the middle of the sea? I'm sitting seaside at a fairly deserted beach about 10 km. east of my house. A very peaceful evening. Strange that it's cloudy. Makes everything look so different. I could sure go for a good thunderstorm. But I doubt that will happen. It's rained one day in the past (at least) 7 weeks.
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