Moody Morning Vent

Will it ever stop raining in Vancouver??

My alarm goes at 6:00 a.m. waking me up from a deep sleep and a dreams I was having about.... Cuba?  I'm reading a book on Cuba so that sounds about right.  Sunny, hot, bizarre, difficult Cuba.  As the dream of Cuba dissolves, I realize where I am and have a sinking feeling in my heart and stomach.  This is the same feeling I've been waking up with all week.  I'm back in rainy Vancouver, it's June 27, and I have a life that falls short of almost everything I'd ever wanted.  Or at least this is how I feel each morning I've been back from my grand vacation in Spain.

One more day going into the office, an office that is now becoming slower and quieter, and people are starting to be let go in every department, in every office around the globe.  This week I've been looking for work again with a vengeance, and today I'll put in phone calls to all of my recruiters and make contact with them again.  The market isn't great - we are definitely in a downturn, and I can see that by the lack of decent job postings.  That can't stop me.  It won't.  I have to keep on trying because trying seems to be all there is nowadays.  This gives me something to hope for, to look forward to.  But it's not just work that's bringing me down.  It's the lack of sunshine, the lack of fun in my life, the lack of love in my life, and the general overall feeling that I don't have anything to look forward to.  The reality of my life is like a gremlin trying to creep up onto my back.  I keep pushing it off, the ugly thing, but it keeps trying to come back.  Sigh.  What is the meaning of my life?

Living with my friend Bonnie has its ups and downs, obviously.  Yes, rent is definitely cheaper and this is the entire reason I've moved to her place.  But I've given up a proper living room (she has one but it never gets used because it's usually scattered with kids' clothes, or used as a storage space for hockey gear and toys).  The kitchen isn't a place I can normally sit comfortably for long either as there's more kids' toys, books, paperwork, Bonnie's office, dirty dishes, and computers in every space available.  I can cook my own food there and I make sure the counter is clean at least, and of course I clean after myself.  But this place is truly a kids' home - two vibrant, loud young boys live here and that's what I chose to move into.  So I shouldn't complain because these things aren't going to change ie: it's not going to become a sexy, social, adult home anytime soon.  Still, when I made this decision I felt really strongly about getting ahead with my bills and getting ontop of my life, and cheaper rent definitely seemed like it would be the way "out".  If I think about it for too long, the wide screen shot of my life makes me get really down.   

Today I am struggling to hold onto the beauty, the sun, the heat, the joy, the sights and sounds, and the love that I felt a couple of times while I was on vacation.  I felt love for almost everyone, and it was really easy to do. For me, any lack of sunshine makes it difficult to feel this love, enthusiasm, and optimism about almost anything, and I've said this before. True, I can't help who I am and I'm certain my ancestors were exactly the same as I am - ever struggling and fighting and searching for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But maybe the sun helps to bring some positivity to life's struggles, even though of course it doesn't take them away. In Ibiza where the sun shines all the time, my love for myself flowed freely and effortlessly, no blocks whatsoever. It extended out to others who were able to then feel it themselves, and then reflected it back to me. It's the way love works, it's the way light works. I've started taking Vitamin D supplements since I've been back again.

I feel sad this morning also because there has been love in my life but it wasn't complete - there was always a catch to it and it would have meant me giving up a big chunk of myself in order to make a true go of it.  And so I couldn't give the love back fully, although I definitely did give it back as much as I could and I learned a lot from it.  But I am discouraged by the stunted feeling I have about it all now, and I am saddened that even that is over now too, and the vision of him with another woman in his bed, which he so kindly threw my face last night, kindof makes me sick to my stomach.  I know, I'm completely hypocritical.  I can't help it - it's an Aquarian trait. I do love and I need tons of freedom myself, but I never said that I wasn't jealous or insecure or that watching someone move on to another relationship wouldn't bother me.  I wish I could be so resilient, so insensitive!  I wish I was more like those self-help books that tell you to "cheer up", "stay positive", and give directions on how to be "resilient", as if it's indecent to admit that one might have dark blue feelings sometimes.  I'm ready again to be in a full relationship but the lack of quality men in this town is quite disturbing for a 40-something woman, where I'm treated as if I'm past my "expiry" date.  I know many other completely fit, beautiful, 40-something year old women who feel the same as I do on this point. grrrrr!

Those good, bad dreams I keep on having of winning the lottery don't seem to help.

Some say it's a good thing that I didn't have children with my ex-husband, but nowadays I'm thinking that at least having children would give me some meaning in my life, focus, and grandchildren to look forward to.  Don't they see the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence?

Work prospects are definitely getting me down, and I imagine that as I get older my prospects will be fewer and farther between.  It seems to be going that way.  Where the hell is my Knight in Shining Armour!?  Yes, I fully admit that I bought into that vision, that belief that someone will come and sweep me away from the misery and the mundane.  I'd even venture to say that most women feel the same, as it was ingrained deeply into us as children while reading fantasy stories about Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, etc etc.  I'm admitting it, you should too.  The only problem with the fantasy is that Prince Charming really isn't so charming, and Snow White, having given herself up to the first Prince Charming who came along (yes, she may have a nice house and 4 lovely children  to keep her occupied), sees now that the grass is so much greener on the other side of the fence and wishes she could have been more independant, travelled the world, found her Self.  No one talks about how Cinderella and Snow White go on to do their own things and face great conquests in their life - it's just assumed that they live happily ever after.  The young and beautiful Princess will forever more be the young and beautiful Princess, her Prince will always be kind and handsome, and they shall want for nothing more as long as they shall live, The End.  Yeah right.  Pfft!  Still, her lawn looks kinda nice to me, while I'm sure my lawn looks absolutely liberating to her.  Grass grows weeds.  Nothing is perfect.  So much for that friggin' fairytale.

Sigh.  What to wear to work?  What to pack for lunch?  What to bring to wear to the gym?  Does any of it really matter?  I try to move away from my computer and get going on my day, slowly making my bed and considering jumping into the shower.  Then there's the detail of doing my hair and makeup.  Blah.  I'm feeling less and less like doing any of this today - who really cares anyways?  It's not like my job is high traffic or client facing anyways.  sheesh.  This sucks.

I sloppily get ready for work and trudge out the door into the rain, catching the first bus that passes (shock! Usually I have to wait so long for those dang buses!).  Passengers on the bus are hunched over, holding their sopping umbrellas, looking glum, and are obviously just as sick of this weather as I am.  A guy is talking on his cell phone and the entire bus can hear him.  He's saying something like "...what we're going to have to do when we have to fire everyone..." and I realize that the questionable economy is something that has an effect on not just me and the company I work for, it's all around.  Does this realization make me feel smug and somehow acceptable?  I feel a mixture of encouragement and depression when I hear his words.  But as I get to work and start my day, absorbing the buzz of the office, saying goodmorning to people, the dark cloud starts to loosen itself from above my head, little by little.  I now have something to keep my mind preoccupied and to stop those gremlins from climbing on my back, at least for now.  I sip my tea and open the applications on my computer, and silently give thanks for my job, my life, my freedom, and all the dang confusion that comes with it.  My job is what made it possible for me to go on such a wonderful Spanish holiday, afterall.  As I remember this, the twinkle starts to come back into my eyes and I realize that I'm just being hard on myself this morning  There are so many other realities that I could focus on, thank goodness.  This week when people ask me how I am doing, I reply with a hearty "I'm great!", because I still do feel that warm Ibizan sun in my heart.  The Canada Day long weekend is coming up and the weather report calls for sun and high temperatures by Sunday (although I think maybe the weatherman is just telling us that so that we'll all feel relieved).  I have made some wonderful friends and created some very cool memories.  I live in a good home and I am safe, for now anyways.  Writing definitely helps me stay sane, force the gremlins off my back.  And you know what?  Maybe I'll even start to date a little?  Who knows?

Green grass on a raining summer morning -

it even looks better down the street than from where I sit -

it's all just an illusion anyways.

Afternoons are much easier for me.  :)

Charleen xo

Bringing Brightness Back

The rooftop terrace - a great space for yoga and writing

This morning wake up with a start.  Where am I?  What day is it?  What time is it?  Oh yes, I quickly remember that I’m on vacation in Ibiza, and I peel back my eye shades to the bright sunlight streaming through the windows of the doors to my room.  I’ve rented this cute little room at the home of my friend, Alok, who happens to live on my favourite side of the island.  I stretch and let the bad dream I just had slowly turn into mist, then into nothing.  I try to capture the meaning of it as it quickly starts to fade away from my memory; I was dreaming about work, but also dreaming about conflicted pleasure, so it must’ve been about how to find pleasure in work?   I dunno.  Still in a groggy state, I try to stop analyzing and just let it all go.  I’m on vacation afterall, and this is no time to worry about work, Char.  Forget about it!

I hear Alok moving around in the home above.  A few minutes later I hear him walk out, his car starts in the carport just to the side of the house, and then I listen as it slowly drives away.  So I am home alone, which is perfect and exactly what I needed.   I splash some water on my face and throw on my flip-flops, open the sliding doors to my room, and step out into the warm Ibizencan air.  A start to stroll around the gardens and give myself a few moments longer to really wake up.  I gaze off into the distance to take a glimpse at the peak of Es Vedra against the blue sky.  Today I’m so thankful that I’m not waking up and having to think about work, getting ready for work, preparing my lunch, what to wear to work, what to pack in my gym bag for work, or the time it takes me to get from home to work, blah blah blah, or any of the other stuff that makes me feel like I’m on daily rollercoaster ride.  Letting it all go.

Alok has a beautiful yet very natural garden which he enjoys spending time working in and it shows.  Plants whose names I couldn’t possibly know are much bigger and healthier than I could have ever grown them, and there is even some design and artistic thought put into his property.  I can say that it is a meditative place.  I make a mental note to try out the swimming pool which he put in two years ago and is now placed strategically at the foot of his property alongside of a new garden house – perfect for an afternoon dip when the sun is at its highest.     

Alok's garden with new pool and garden house

Although I like to think I know it all about this island life, I am only a tourist.  I have to remember that I don’t know everything there is to know about this island, and the way of life that comes with it.  I’ve been here now countless times for vacation, and each time I become more a part of its essence, learning more and absorbing more every time.  I enjoy being here in June or September when it’s still busy enough to be exciting, but not so busy as in July or August when it’s almost impossible to take a casual cruise through the countryside without some crazy tourist tailing your bumper the entire way, or traffic slowing down your ability to get anywhere in less than an hour.  Also in July and August it seems to be clearer what you’d come here for: the party.  In June and September you can still be guaranteed some level of quiet and peace, and there’s still some partying to be done if you really want to.  It is Ibiza afterall.  All the best music starts from this place.  It’s an important fact to remember.  I know it’s what drew me here in the first place.

Today though, I am thankful for a quiet morning and the chance to write.  I arrange a seat for myself on the terracotta tiled, upper terrace of the house and I look out to the valley where everything is still green, birds are floating in the breeze, a breeze which makes the weather very pleasurable.  Its all about pleasure Char.  Do you even remember what that feels like?

I think about my writing – what do I want to say today?  Do I have to say anything special?  Does there have to be a point to my writing?  I read something recently by Paulo Coehlo.  He said that although he feels touched when his readers tell him how enjoyable they find his writing, the most important thing for him as an author is to write the truth, no matter if it’s enjoyable or not.  It has to be the truth.  For me to write only what I think others might want to hear or read would be a total injustice for me and te entire reason I write in the first place.  I don’t really write for anyone else’s enjoyment (although it’s nice when I hear some people say they enjoy my writing) – I write for myself, for my own therapy, for my own reasons.  My truth doesn’t have to be anyone else’s truth, and what I say doesn’t have to be therapeutic to anyone else.  Some people say to me “So you’re a writer, what have you written?” with the expectation that I’m some impressive author with several published works under my belt.  Pfft!  I admit there are some days where I clearly do have a good story in mind and I want to tell it so that it could possibly be enjoyable for someone else to read.  But still what’s behind that and at its very core is how honest it is for me.  And that is good enough for me.  A good point was made about this very subject on a recent Facebook post that a friend of mine wrote.  She made a good point when she said that she wanted to look more closely at some of the truths that she’s believed about herself in the past, truths that others said were the ONLY truths to own, the only way to success, the only way to know you’ve accomplished something.  She called BS on it:

“...The Lie: I will be worthy of calling myself a 'X' practitioner and have the potential to become a successful 'X' only when someone else Certifies me in their own method of 'X' and then will I be able to charge enough money to support myself and feel fulfilled as a self-employed professional.
My Truth: If I am already having a positive impact on myself and/or someone else, who's to say I'm 'not ready'?...”

No, I’m not making money from my writing (yet), and no I haven’t written any books (yet), but I still consider myself a writer.  If I don't write a book, then am I a failure??  If I have affected anyone in a positive way then doesn’t it mean that I’m successful?  Who decides when and if I am “successful”?  Whose truth would that be if I bought into any of that?  So today I guess I haven’t a point in my writing, except that it just feels good to allow my fast fingers to follow my thoughts.  This is what I wanted to do while on vacation, after all.  This is all I wanted, to be honest.  So I sit quietly with my laptop and listen to nothing, listen to the breeze blowing through the trees and the wild grasses.  Now and then my mind wanders back to life in Vancouver; my friends, my family, what I need to accomplish in the next month or two... but I force my thoughts back to myself.  Be in the moment Char.  This morning I’m even gaining pleasure from the little bit of hay fever I’m having this morning, knowing that all the plants and trees around me are thriving.  I can smell the sagebrush and the wild rosemary, mixed with the scent of fresh salt air.  These are such pleasurable, Ibizencan scents.  I chuckle aloud when I hear the neighbour who lives on the property next door sneezing as loudly as possible, and realize he’s also responding to the pollen in the air.  I get up from my laptop to walk and to stretch, and I enjoy the feeling of heat underneath my toes.  The terracotta tile on the terrace has heated up so nicely today.

Just then, I hear the “crunch crunch crunch” of someone’s footsteps coming down the pathway.  I realize without seeing this person that it must be the man who is renting Alok’s garden house, and who I haven’t met yet.  I wander over to the edge of the terrace and look over.  Sure enough, a tall blonde, and very German looking man is throwing his beach gear into his truck and getting ready to climb in.  “Well hello there”, I hear myself say and I notice inwardly that I’m coming out of my cool Vancouver shell.  The man looks around to see where the voice has come from.  “I’m up here”, I say, waving at him with a friendly smile on my face as he looks up to the rooftop terrace. 

“Hi, I’m Charleen.  You must be Alok’s friend who is staying in the garden house.  It’s nice to meet you”. 

The man doesn’t say anything to me.  Instead he blinks at me and smiles, but he stays quiet for a few moments, just looking up at me.  I wonder if I maybe shouldn’t have said anything, or I wonder if maybe he doesn’t understand English.  I prepare myself to apologize (as we Canadians do) for not being able to speak German, and finally the man speaks. 

“Hello.  I am Heiner”. 

“Hello Heiner, did I frighten you?”

“No no, I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone but now that I see you I’m glad you said hello.  You must be the Charleen that Alok has been waiting for. 

“Yes, I just arrived yesterday, it’s nice to meet you finally”.

“And how are you enjoying your room?” he asks cordially.

“My room?  It’s a good room.  Why do you ask?”

“Well Alok kept on saying ‘Oh I need to clean the room, Charleen is coming, Charleen is coming’, and it seemed he was a little stressed out.”

I paused for a moment, slightly puzzled by this statement, and decided to make light of myself instead. “Oh, well maybe that’s because I’m a Princess and he thinks I can’t have a little bit of dirt in my room.” I say to him.  And then I giggle out loud, hoping that Heiner has been able to make out my sarcastic joke on myself, and that I will at least warm up this big German man who I’m not yet sure has taken a liking to me.  Heiner is still looking up at me though, smiling.

“And so what are you doing up there?”  I enjoy his cute German accent already.

“Well, I’ve just started writing, it’s a nice quiet morning and I wanted to get a start on it”.

“Well would you like to come for coffee with me?  I need to get something to eat also, I’m very hungry.”

That suggestion caught me off guard a little, but since I’m on vacation and I’m letting go of my strict roller coaster ride, I say “I guess I could go, sure.  Where do you plan on going?”

“Ah”, says Heiner, “just down the hill to Cala D’Hort”.

“Okay”, I say. “Just let me save my writing and put my laptop away, and I’ll join you”.

What is great about being on vacation is letting go of the things you normally tell yourself you should and shouldn’t do, taking your wrist watch off and forgetting about time, and just enjoying doing whatever you feel like doing in the moment.  I quickly disregarded the little voice that was wagging its finger at me, saying “You SHOULD stay here and do your writing!!”, and opted to hop into the car with Heiner, and away we drove down the hill to Cala d’Hort.  The day was amazingly warm and we weren’t wasting a single second of it by being moody and worried about time constraints.  I appreciated that Heiner seemed to also have nothing but time on his hands and the freedom of a long vacation with which to be spontaneous.  The restaurant at Cala d’Hort had a beautiful view of Es Vedra, and with the warm sunshine hitting my shoulders and this open-minded and progressive free-thinking man sitting across the table from me, I was starting to enjoy my vacation immensely.  I realized that he and I were meant to cross paths at Alok’s and that there was a reason for it.  I had lot to learn from this man.  We chatted and philosophized all afternoon together, and ended up not only having coffee, but a beautiful seafood lunch and a delicious bottle of white wine too!  I really was intrigued by this gentleman, as he seemed to be so dynamic and a bit eccentric even, and have a completely different take on life.  He has had so many experiences that have brought him to locations all over the world, and I enjoyed hearing his stories of how he’s come to be who he is today.  I grew fonder of him as we lingered together in the afternoon sun.  I guess I also recognized myself in him a little, a man who seemed to take a positive, yet unconventional view on most things.  With all the sunshine, the wine, the delicious food, and the interesting point of views, I felt myself opening up again to ideas and feelings that I have hidden away from for awhile now, holed up in my dark closet in Vancouver.  Getting to know people of different cultures, learning new languages, and discovering different lifestyles and mentalities has always been such a huge part of who I am.  I found myself grinning all day long and thanking the Ibizencan Gods and Goddesses that I’d pushed myself to say “hello” this morning to this bright-eyed, super-smart German man.

View of Es Vedra from Cala d'Hort beach and restaurant

I catch myself one or two times wanting to run away, or make some type of excuse for having to get back to doing absolutely nothing on my own, but then I remember that, actually, I have nothing else to run back to!  We hung out for awhile there at Cala d’Hort and then together decided to go to another beach, Es Cavallet on the southern tip of the island.  All afternoon we layed in the sunshine and chatted about life, ate salty sardines and Spanish olives, sipped hierbas (an Ibizencan liqueur) and americanos, and even swam in the blue Mediterranean.  Heiner used to live on the island and knows it well, and I was curious when, after the beach, he drove down a dirt road that led to a new restaurant, Cap des Falco, which I never even knew was there. There we sat down at two cushy beach beds and ordered a pitcher of White Sangria with Cava, and then watched the sun go down together.  It was a brilliant day!  I think it was my good luck that I just happened to pop my head over the side of the terrace this morning to say hi.  He says that the reason why he was so quiet when I first introduced myself to him was because when he looked up all he noticed was the contrast between the bright green tank top I was wearing and the blue, blue Spanish sky.  He said it was beautiful.  His honesty and poetic conversation endured me to him even more.  Heiner will be a good friend to me, this I know. 

I have been feeling so far removed from my own truth that I sometimes can’t see my own spirit any longer.  I sometimes feel that life is full of anguish and that I will constantly be trying to beat the same drum that everyone else beats on, or scoring my accomplishments and goals by the same terms that others have structured their accomplishments and goals.  Maybe that’s why days such as this are such gifts to me because they help me to remember who I am on the inside.  Like the warm Ibizencan breeze, this realization kind of just blew in and it has stayed.  I feel positive and light again.  When I’m feeling positive and light, then I’m doing exactly what I should be doing on the planet, and that is spreading love and acceptance and open-mindedness to everyone I meet (I truly am a 60’s baby, a walking Peace Sign!).  Maybe that is really what I’m here to do anyways.  I hope to bring this type of warmth and creativity back to Canada with me or wherever I go.  Maybe it’s true that I haven’t achieved so many great successes in others’ eyes, but to me this small clarity makes me feel like I have succeeded already.  I get an “A” for success, and thanks to Heiner for helping me get there.  J

  

Enjoying sangria and sunset at Cap des Falco

Love, 

Charleen xo

Plaza de San Miguel

Looking over Plaza de San Miguel, Madrid

Today felt like a completely free day all to myself.  The sun was out and there seemed to be a heightened pace and liveliness about the city.  It was a Monday but there were tons of tourists wandering around and enjoying sitting for cafe or sangria in any of the city's beautiful plazas.  One such plaza that I found myself in today was a plaza just west of the Plaza Mayor, called Plaza de San Miguel.  There is a mercado (market) there, a big old church, and this cute little plaza had one restaurant which managed the outdoor seating space as well.  

It's just an ordinary square, nothing fantastic or amazing about the place.  Perhaps I liked it simply because it was unassuming.  The sun was high in the sky, it was close to 1:00 pm, and I decided that now would be as good a time as any to sit and watch the world go by - one of my favourite things to do.

I sit down and order a sangria from the attentive waiter.  All the tables around me are occupied.  I stretch my legs out into the sunshine by putting them on one of the other chairs at my 4-top.  I realize this gives my occupation as a "tourist" away, but in the moment I really don't care.

A couple of German women are sitting to my right.  They appear to be mother and daughter, or a similar combination.  They are overdressed and, in my opinion, snotty.  Their strong "zzz" at the end of each word grates on my nerves.  They order another round of sangria in English.  They probably think that speaking Spanish is beneath them.  I'm not sure of this of course, it's just my analysis.  To analyze and watch is what I'm here to do, after all.  I turn my cheek and decide not to focus on them.

Further across the Plaza at a table not too far away is a group of American tourists.  I could tell they were American not because I could hear their accents, but because of the way they were dressed in their solemn colours and button up shirts.  Their hair was trimmed straight and short above the collar, all of them, and to boot they all had big bellies which protruded over the tops of their belted chinos.  They all had very serious expressions on their faces.  I realized that this group completely generalized the American population, and I was momentarily saddened and disgusted.  Like, for heaven's sakes!  Do they have to look so obvious??  Heck, they maybe could have been Canadian, except at that moment I honed in on their conversation and one of the females in the group, the busty blonde with thick eye makeup and a bouffant type hair-do, said something like "... that rice dish....".  Sheesh.  She was referring to "paella".  Couldn't you at least say the word in Spanish, now that you're here in the country, ya dummy?  Ah, but I digress.  Realizing straight away that this type of (lack of) fitness and fashion mirrored something inside of myself, and I decided not to pay attention to this feeling of discord any longer.  This is my vacation and I am trying to get away from that all, thanks very much!  I wrinkled my nose up and turned my attention away from this table, too.

But it was the Spanish couple sitting at the table right in front of me who caught my attention finally.  They were obviously local.  I couldn't hear all of their conversation without making it totally obvious that I was eavesdropping on them, but I could tell that they'd been dating only a handful of months, 3 or 4 at most.  He was a roughish looking man, not dressed poorly, and she was... well, she was pretty.  She had straight reddish hair and was wearing a bohemian halter top which revealed that she had nicely-shaped breasts as well.  The rest of her was, well, she was a plump girl.  She was wearing a skirt and boots that didn't match her halter top at all, but I understood immediately that she was trying to look pretty for her man, who she was obviously smitten with.  Smiling at him and saying "vale, vale, vale" to everything he said. (Okay, okay, okay).  I appreciated her femininity right away, and in fact I appreciated her as a woman who seemed to be doing whatever she could to support her boyfriend.  They seemed to be having some serious conversation about many points of view, from work to the countryside, to politics, they were touching on everything.  And he seemed to appreciate her very much also.  I watched his eyes as he watched her get up to go inside the restaurant to use the washroom.  I wanted to know what he honestly felt for her.  I smiled as I watched his eyes soften with desire and pride as he watched her walk away.  When she came back, in his brutish way he said something obviously quite charming to her, because her eyes lit up and instantly she moved in for a long, mushy, passionate kiss.  As if no one was looking!  She was saying something like "ohhh my love my love my love, don't you know how I absolutely adoooooooorrre you?!" Then I watched him blush, even while he kept his eyes focused on her.  She had hit something inside of him, this pretty girl with the mis-matching clothes.  Today was the day of truth, and he thought she was fantastic!  I turned my head away just in case they noticed I was watching them, but only for a couple of minutes.  I liked how I seemed to be incognito there in the Plaza de San Miguel, watching everything from behind my sunglasses, my expression giving nothing away.  Now she was showing him a picture of "Pablo" on her phone... Pablo, I deduced, was a friend of hers.  But her man didn't like it and he got jealous as soon as she spoke of her friend "Pablo".  I was a little shocked at his childish behavior, but she wasn't turned off at all.  She didn't back away or tell him to f-off like I would have, oh no.  Instead she pulled her chair in closer and looked him straight in the eyes, saying "Pablo is a friend of mine, my dear love, he is only a friend".  Perhaps it was the sunshine, perhaps it was the sangria, or a mixture of all of it, but that was all he needed to open up to her.  In his gruff voice he proceeded to admit that he was jealous, but that it was because he was insecure in himself.  But at the same time he didn't apologize for it.  It was really sweet to see; this man who embraced and loved his insecurities.  She just kept on smiling at him and saying "Vale".  I could see he still doubted himself, but she planted another big lingering kiss on him again and then pulled back, smiling, connecting with his eyes.  

And me?  Well I guess I'm just a complete romantic fool, because I found this wishy-washy scene so touching and tender.  An ordinary man and woman proclaiming their love for one another on a Monday morning in the centre of town, both of them imperfect and beautiful just as they were.

Now then, if this scene were to happen in Canada, let me first say that it would have been ruined by the fact that the couple also smoked liked chimneys.  It seems to be the fashion here in Spain though and so the smoking seemed to add to their personalities, or at least I thought anyways.  I did briefly wonder to myself how they could still kiss one another after smoking so many cigarettes.... but I let the thought go right away because those are my hangups and they were ruining the feel-good scene I was witnessing.  I wanted the good vibe to last!  Heck, they don't seem to mind one bit so why should I bother projecting? And second of all: public displays of affection aren't the norm in Canada, especially two people sitting so closely together and looking one another in the eyes. That makes most people squeamish.  We're more apt to say something rude like "Get a room!", and then have a good elbow nudge with our friends.  Oh brother.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit such a predominantly red-neck attitude about love and affection.  But for me, their act made me flustered in a good way.  After watching this romantic scene for awhile, I decided to stay a while longer in the Plaza de San Miguel, and I ordered another sangria and a pincho of tortilla (small plate) to go with it.  I stretched my legs out even farther on the empty chair, and I kind of giggled at how I was the only one in the Plaza who seemed to truly be wanting to absorb sunshine.  Pfft!  I must be a tourist!  How uncouth!  ha!

The Germans were still talking.

I thought briefly of my life back home in Vancouver.  It occurred to me that I hadn't thought about my job and the stresses and irritations that come with it since I'd left Vancouver on Thursday afternoon.  It all seems so insignificant now.  I realize that the writer is coming out in me again, and that this scene, this time and space here in the sunshine watching people go by, is exactly what I'd asked for.  I raise my face to the sun and soak in that awareness for a moment.

A Dutch man walks across the Plaza.  How do I know he's Dutch?  Aside from the obvious giveaway - he is wearing a tight fitting G-Star t-shirt that shows how hard he's been working on his lats - he carries himself with a straight back and has a certain look of cockiness and a twinkle in his eyes.  That's how I know.  "Ahhhh", I think to myself.  "It's always so nice to watch a Dutchman."

Charleen xo

The Long Haul to Come Home

I didn't think I'd make it here.

Three days ago I came down with a flu that completely took me off my feet for two days.  I did have to go into work for a few hours to finish some month-end reporting, and that was difficult enough.  But what I found the most difficult was the fact that I knew I had to get on a plane for my two-week vacation to Espana!  How painful was that going to be??  So I popped as many vitamins, homeopathics and liquids as I could, and I tried not to wimper like a baby while doing it (because God knows I can be the world's biggest baby when I'm sick!).  Thursday morning came and, while I was still blowing my nose and coughing a bit, I could see I was totally on the mend.  Lucky for me I am a very well-organized person and so the majority of my packing had been done, and the other activities that one must do before travelling overseas (last minute shopping, running to the bank to exchange money, printing off travel reservations, etc), had been done.  My friend Malcolm helped me out a ton too by actually being there while I was sick to pump me full of hot liquids, and then when the time came he drove me to the airport as well.  Thanks Mal!

It has to be said that KLM is a great airline.  I was tickled when I had originally started looking for flights across the Atlantic that KLM actually had some great deals.  Not only that but their in-flight service is always excellent and I never have to worry about whether my luggage will get lost.  I love an efficient Dutch company!  The flight to Amsterdam was fine, except for the fact that, well, the only people in the cabin who didn't have video options were me and the other two gals in my row!  A teenager, a twenty-something year old, and myself got to know one another quite well because of the frustrations we were all having with our remote controls.  The cabin crew re-set the system several times and finally offered us each a KLM credit towards our next flight as a way of apologizing and making up for the boring 9 hour flight we had to endure.  Yes, a handful of movies would have definitely made the flight more entertaining, but THANKS KLM for the credit which I will definitely be using sometime in the next year.  Now, where should I go?  hmmm.....

A long layover in Amsterdam was maybe exactly what the doctor had ordered, even though originally my travel plans only included a couple of hours' stay at the airport there.  Thankfully my good friend Ries stepped up to the plate and planned some business meetings in Amsterdam for himself that morning, making it super easy for him to pick me up and whisk me away for the day!  Weather was on our side yesterday for sure!  It was fantastically warm and sunny, and Amsterdammers were out in fine fashion soaking up the sun in every corner of the city.  I like them even more now.  Having previously traveled to the Netherlands at other times of the year, a hot day in June was a nice change.  The city was absolutely twinkling with energy, and Ries rolled down the roof of his vintage Mercedes as we sped around the city.  He has always been a great tour guide - in his next lifetime he says he'll come back and he'll be a Specialty Tour Guide - offering tours and charm to women only.  hee hee.  Oh Ries.  You smoothie you.

Ries' new baby - his 1973 Mercedes

I had hoped that I would have had time to drop into the Van Gogh Museum but I liked Ries' idea of driving to the Museum Park and taking a walk, and then hitting a cool nook of the city to sit outside and have lunch! Van Gogh will have to wait, but I did get to see the Park itself which is something that I'd only seen pictures of before.  Parks and green spaces are just as important, if not more important, to the Dutch as they are for us in Canada.

Museum Park, with Rijks Museum in the background

I think I was so stunned to be there that it didn't really even hit me until we drove back through the center of town by all the famous canals and side streets, bicyclists everywhere riding off to get fresh air and hit a sunny patch of patio somewhere.  A fairy is at home in Amsterdam, that is for certain.  :)

Can you see Richard's apartment?  

Perfect location right in the centre of Jordaan

Beer me please, Ries!  thank you!

A little square in the centre of Jordaan

It's so cool!  Wouldn't you agree?

We sat out at this outdoor restaurant/bar just down the street from Ries' apartment in the Jordaan part of Amsterdam, where there really aren't too many tourists and you get a better feeling for the true Amsterdam way of life.  As I was enjoying my beer and watching people walk by I thought to myself "yep, I could live here".  You know how it's become so unusual in Vancouver for people who are sitting at the table next to yours in a restaurant or on a patio to not even say hello or have small talk with you?  You know how everyone in Vancouver ignores one another like they're all too good for one another?  Well that doesn't happen in Amsterdam.  I guess it doesn't happen anywhere!  I love getting away from Vancouver and from Canada - it makes me realize that the people there and the mentalities aren't really that normal, even though everyone thinks they're so wise so good.  I always get a blank stare or strange look if I happen to speak to a total stranger in Vancouver.  But not here in Amsterdam, not anywhere really.  So this is my dose of reality.  It may seem like a vacation but it's actually an opportunity for me to get back to myself!  

Afterwards we did a bit of strolling through the shopping area and the red light district, all the while Ries and I talked and chatted as if hanging out with one another for the day was so standard for us.  We haven't lost our ability to get in sync with one another instantly, and I guess that's why we fell for one another those few years ago when we first met.  Now it's just really nice for me to have Ries as a good friend in my life, someone who knows some of the deeper parts of my life and my struggles, and I his.  We have a good friendship, I always feel blessed when I see him again and I am reminded how important it is to stay in touch with people and to make an effort, even if they live overseas.  Ries taking time out of his busy schedule to come and spend a sunny afternoon with me, the two of us elemental's laughing and being curious and walking together hand in hand all day, meant the world to me!  I am a lucky girl to have a friend in him.  

The day went by so quickly!  It was a very successful and fun layover in Amsterdam and when I got back to Schiphol I have to say that I actually felt a little teary-eyed - as if maybe I shouldn't be getting right back onto a plane and heading for Spain.  Why not stay right here in the Netherlands!?  I love listening to the accent and the language, and I manage to understand some things too (don't ask me how, I've never studied a word of Dutch in my life!)  Well, thanks to KLM I have a nice little advantage on a ticket to come back this way within a year.  Queen's Day?  ASOT 700?  Anything?

Back at Schiphol

As I boarded the plane for Madrid, I actually had a bit of a panic attack.  I actually felt scared for the first time in my life to come to Spain.  I was leaving the fun, playful twirl of the Dutch language and now had to quickly tune in to hearing Spanish (and to speaking it too), and for some reason instead of being excited I was a little saddened.  Well, after almost 24 hours of travel I think I was more than a little tired and emotional, and the whirl-wind of a brilliant day I just had was making me feel all nostalgic and romantic about the city and the people living in it.  What was I doing?  Misty-eyed, I layed my head against the window while we took off into the sunset, and crashed out hard, dreaming about magical, fairy-like Dutch folk and trance music.  I woke up with some confusion as to where I was about 20 minutes before we landed in Madrid.  

I just needed to write about this day really quickly and get my feelings out on it, because I have a couple of weeks worth of writing ahead of me and no better time than the present to get into the groove.  Furthermore, I just didn't want to let yesterday's brilliance get away from me.  One day I will go back to Amsterdam and I will STAY for a good long while.  I'll even get a bike.  :)  For now though, I have a credit to use which ensures I'll be back sometime in the next 365 days.  ha!

I landed in Madrid without a hitch.  Dazed and more than exhausted, I somehow got myself into a taxi and rambled the address of my hotel to the Spanish cab driver, who must've realized by the sight of me just how friggin' tired I was.  I thought of the week I'd had while we drove off into the night, and I looked inside myself to see how I was doing.  Yep Charleen, you are tired, your nose is still running just a little bit and you are still coughing just a tad, but you are more than good.  You are awesome.  :)

Thanks Amsterdam!  Hola Madrid!

Write more soon,

Charleen xo