Sunday, April 22, 2012

Poem: Op-a-le-scent

I dreamed in op-a-le-scent green 
But only because
I liked how that word slurred milky from my hummingbird tongue
And not because
I actually dreamed
In the shade of the dragons
Perched in the window of the Chinese shop downtown
I always thought
The gold-dipped claws were a cheap touch to a perfect, roughhewn thing
My first perfume
My mother's  old scent
From a plastic stick pulled free from beneath eyelash curlers with long cold handles
Smelled of man-da-rin oranges
But not really
It was just that I hoped it did
So when the other kids asked with voices like a tetanus shot
Why I smelled so strange
I could tell them in in-dig-nant and righ-teous tones
That I smelled of man-da-rin
And their eyes would pop wide like flowers the day before they start to fade
And I would pull my lashes down low with sweet mystery
And bask in the elegance of my exotic tastes.
My parents were never angry
They were FU-ri-ous
And I was never sad
But des-PON-dent
And the sky was never gray
So much as a color shared with the underbellies of doves
I'd visit my grandmother
And kneel in church
On the benches I wished the Catholics would share with the rest of us God-fearers
Thought that I'd never heard of anything so beautiful as "Holy Water"
Prayed my eyes would open up a-qua-ma-rine
like a torturous sea
or the wall of a storm.
I wished away the simple sweetness of common words
Family words, home words
On syllables that twisted between my teeth like ribbons
Like ma-ri-o-nettes 
Had no time for forest
or blue
And everything blue means.

12:30 AM

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Time Travel with Me to the Morning of last Thursday

April 12th, 2012
6:29 AM

You know those mornings when you feel like the poster child for general disarray and walking chaos? I'm having one of those mornings. This wouldn't be nearly so frustrating if I didn't go to such great lengths to keep exactly this sort of a mess from happening. I'm a very organized traveler- everything has its place, its proper weight, ready to pass inspection and cross borders sin problemas. However, this morning, I was not particularly on top of my game. Mascara was not in a little baggy, earrings did not have backings, and iPods had mysteriously failed to charge overnight. Granted, overnight might be a bit of an exaggeration. I didn't actually get to sleep until 3:00 AM, which meant that my evening recoup was really more of a catnap. 5 AM wake-up call was not welcome, although it certainly did the job. Do you think they design hotel telephones to ring so abrasively? Dastardly architects of wake-up call efficiency. 
Here is the itinerary that should have been followed:
  • 10:00 PM - Asleep
  • 5:00 AM - Wake up call (luxuriously stretch arms and roll out of bed with perfect hair)
  • 5:30 AM - Catch shuttle to airport
  • 6:00 AM- Be well on my way to passing through the check-in desk with a breezy smile and relieved of my enormous bags
  • 6:34 AM- Be sitting in the Louiu Airport Café awaiting my boarding gate and drinking a hot milk with Bailey's, smiling breezily out the windows at the sweet night fallen over the runways. 

One of these things happened and I'll give you a hint. It was the one that included Bailey's. If one thing was going to go right this morning it had darn well be the Bailey's. Let me provide you with a more accurate itinerary.
  • 3:00 AM - Asleep
  • 5:00 AM- Wake up call
  • 5: 15 AM - Actually get out of bed, all aspects of physical appearance in a state of acute hot mess and severely in need of tylenol, according to the living dead status of my eyes
  • 5:15-5:30- Run all over the hotel room collecting my things, think frantically on the idea of how I managed to spread out so much in the space of twelve hours.
  • 5:33- Arrive downstairs for the 5:30 shuttle, which is blessedly waiting (grab breakfast while receptionist checks me out of my room. Breakfast is a stale croissant- somehow still delicious, pin it down to desperation)
  • 5:40 - Arrive at airport and put on makeup using a compact. The woman sitting next to me watches with fascination without even pretending to hide it. I wonder briefly if she has ever seen eyeliner before.
  • 5:45- Begin check-in process with a very nice lady who cannot seem to find my reservation in the computer
  • 5:46- Discover that one of my bags is severely overweight and that flying Iberia (although I will be switching to American Airlines) I am charged for my second bag (50 EUROS! alskdjflaksjdflakjsfdlkajsdflkajsdflkajsdlfkjasldkfjalskjdfalskdjI'mokay.)
  • 5:46- 6:15 - Sit on the tile floor in full sight of the entire arrivals terminal and move things from one bag to another. Try to smile at people like I'm enjoying myself and generally wait until I arrive at the airport to complete the packing process. Sit in zen position during the process to appear more convincingly calm.
  • 6:15- 6:25- Require four boxes to organize my things through security. Listen to woman jokes from the two young men standing behind me, who apparently only see that my passport is American and therefore presume that I do not speak Spanish.
  • 6:25- Embarrass two boys horribly. Do not feel even the tiniest bit bad about it.
  • 6:29- Arrive at the Louiu café and order my drink, which is perfect in every way and look out at the runway, amazed by how calm and steady the blinking of lights can be, against a windy darkness.

Let's hope that the remainder of the journey is more straightforward. I'll cross my fingers and hope for it. But like wi-fi while airport hopping, it seems that such sweet goodnesses as simple travel, are to be savored when they happen to come along.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

This is More or Less the Story of My Life

Lists from the Ever-Never-Satisfied

Things I miss about home while I am in Spain

  • I-Hop
  • Peanut Butter
  • Panera
  • My mother's extremely well-stocked cupboards
  • Real rainy days
  • Not spiders
  • My unbelievable bed
  • My mother's cooking
  • Portsmouth
  • American power outlets
  • My parents. There, I said it.
  • Getting my eyebrows done prior to their usurpation of the top half of my face
  • Cafés where you can buy more than a coffee the size of your index finger
  • My iHome
  • Amigos

Things I miss about Spain while I am home
  • Discotecas
  • Chorizo and Tortilla Española
  • Age Expectations
  • High heels, everywhere
  • The churches
  • Spanish
  • Tapas tapas tapas tapas tapas tapas tapas tapas
  • My Spanish family
  • My sweet, old, broken down apartment where nothing works
  • The gorgeous Spanish sun
  • The well-dressed, eligible young bachelor types
  • Easy public transportation, just hop on the bus and you're in the city!
  • Private dance parties in my single apartment (aka: the bachelorette pad)
  • The oldness of things
  • Pervasive culture of personal style
  • My job
  • Feeling useful all of the time
  • Pull&Bear, Bershka, Blanco, Zara *sigh*

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Bamboleo - Gipsy Kings

Because there can never be enough Latin-fueled music in one's life.

Friday, March 23, 2012

A Springly Sprightly Jaunt to the Park

Oh, you know, just some ruins in the middle of the park. It's whatever.

My first day of spring outfit did prove to be a bit cold, but it was worth it.
Pull & Bear asymmetrical dress, high Bershka boots, and my "carpet bag" earrings from Maurices

Trees in bloom in the center of Logroño