Peace Ibiza!

As I sit in the Ibiza airport and wait for my flight to take me back to Barcelona, I have to admit I’m nervous. There really is no rational reason for it, and I’m trying to remind myself that there’s nothing to worry about. When I think about the direction I’m heading in today, the direction of “home”, I stop and wonder what home is all about. Just a couple of days ago I received word from my roommate that her boyfriend is coming to live with us, just while he’s “looking for work in Barcelona, and then he’ll find a place of his own”. Well, what can I say to that? Do I have a choice in the matter? It really is her place that I'm renting a room in, and if the roles were reversed I would probably be doing the same thing.  But my warning flags go up.  When I get there, a strange man (who is probably very nice), will be sharing the tiny apartment with me. I can only think that it will really feel like it is “their” space now, and I am just occupying a room in it. Had I known that having Pam’s boyfriend come to live with us was a probability, I would have thought twice about living there. Less than 700 sq.ft. between three adults and a cat, only one bathroom, and probably very different time tables... these are the obvious negating factors. The hidden factor is that I’m just not ready to live with a man. The last man I lived with was my husband, and all others are just totally strange to me right now.  It feels just plain wrong to live in such close quarters with one. (No offence fellas, eh?  You understand, right?)  :)

There is a chance, of course, that all will be well when I get back to Barcelona and that I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill. We may all get along famously, who knows? But I have to admit that my instinct is to get the hell out of there quick like. Pam and I already have a very honest friendship, and I’m sure that we will be in discussion about this when I get “home”.

Ibiza has been so awesome. It has been raining cats and dogs for the most part, which is strange not just to me but to everyone else here. The roads are flooding, people get caught under awnings and just have to stand there for a while, awestruck, watching the pounding rain. I did get three kick-ass days of sunshine though! And I hear the weather is quite nice in Barca right now too. So all is good. Last night at the last minute I went to the We Love Space Closing Party, and it sucked big time. Sloppy, disgusting muck-fest is what it was. It was pouring rain on the Terrace, for one, and two, everyone in there either had cross-eyes, googly eyes, or bloodshot eyes – except for me that is. I was the only one sober enough to know that the music was shite! Several rooms and not one of them spinning anything worthy of bootie shakin’. Hmph. I don’t think I’m interested in ever going back to that hole of a “club”. Give me Pacha, Amnesia, and even Privilege any day! I’m done with crappy bars.

So today I spent my time roaming around the island, free as a bird again, and dropped by to say “adios” to Alok and Shelu. I hope its not long before I see them both again. I don’t know why, but every time I leave here I get a little sad because I really DON'T WANT TO LEAVE, and it somehow makes me feel like I'll never be back again.

Here’s something to be happy about: as I sit here writing to you from the Ibiza airport, I just received a phone call from the boyz at the Barcelona airport. (drum roll please….!) THEY FOUND MY RUBBERMAID CONTAINER!!! YEEEHOOOOO!! And right in time for me to pick it up when I land, too. I’ll swing by on my way out and grab it, but I guess I won’t be taking the train home now will I? oooooh, I can feel the micro-current on my face already. It’s gonna be good….oh! And think of the studying I’ll be able to do with the awesome lessons in my kick-ass cerlox bound Spanish II binder! It is so exciting! Like a kid opening up her stocking on Christmas Day!

And with that I must say “Chau, Ibiza!” Peace and love always,

Charleen xo