We met at a pizzeria called En Guay Si. The pizza was not as good as N Y C pizza. Very small and quaint, I hadn’t been there previously, a friend recommended it. I was struck by how she looked better in person than her pictures, maybe because she had barely any make up on… Read More Norwegian Narcissist
Since the beginning of what I label my awkward years, age 12, I have had this conception of the passing of time as a way to bury unpleasant memories and shame, or at least a desperate hope that the passing of time would make the memories fade. I always held out hope for a new blank slate… Read More Fear and loathing on Long Island
I came to the Camino looking for profound experience, and I found it. It met and surpassed all the expectations I had. I have always been an introverted person, a highly self-conscious person, bordering on obsessive. An isolator, a loner. Many people realize and acknowledge I am a personable and easy-going person. By all outward… Read More The Camino de Santiago, A turning point
Two things happened to me recently in Madrid where I immediately thought, I thought that only happens in the movies. 1. A bus splashed a large quantity of water here on Gran Via all over my legs and I became soaked and freezing. 2. I showed a 25 year-old British girl my apartment, so I… Read More Reverse Culture Shock- On returning to the U.S. from Spain
I quit my job as an English “Language and Culture Assistant” at a High School in Spain today. The town of Pinto, Spain took me an hour and 20 minutes and 3 different transfers to arrive at. The commute was too far and was becoming a hindrance to my foot healing. I’m not sure what… Read More Closing a Chapter Teaching English in Madrid
I encountered a homeless man today, while I was walking out of the metro, blabbering on to himself standing next to the elevator that would take me up to street level. There was a pungent odor emanating from his body. I took a beat, one or two seconds, and then decided to carry my bike up the one… Read More Ruminations on homeless people in the Madrid Metro
I’ve gotten used to playing the part of the inconsiderate, able bodied asshole who takes the handicapped seat in the front of the city bus. My feet still haven’t healed from the Camino de Santiago. I think there has been nerve damage, but they don’t know that. There’s no boot or brace. 10 or 15… Read More Teaching English in Spain-A Day in the Life, and drunk daydreams
I’m just waking up now after my second cafe con leche, hitting my stride with this 30 minute group “sprint” we do. The caffeine lifts me temporarily out of my baseline state of apathy. I’m at the Writer’s group that meets on the top floor of this cafe in Chueca: the trendy, gay-friendly neighborhood of… Read More Meditations on Death/Language Brain Fog/Expat Rage
Spanish girls and guys are warm and gracious in a way I was initially shocked by. I am not accustomed to such hospitality and genuine concern for my well being. My friend Maria, over the three months I have known her, has offered to call the Spanish doctor for me, and has written a full page ad… Read More Serial Intercambio-ing (1 on 1 Language Exchanging) and Tinder in Madrid
As someone who considers myself shy and timid, I feel like a celebrity at my school. I teach about 200 different students, I teach for 16 class hours, seeing each class of mine only once a week. They seem to like the handball I bring to class every day and throw to each student when… Read More Teaching at a suburban High School in Spain
The Sober Hombre 