After a nice afternoon nap, I was up and getting ready to go into Madrid. I was to meet up with a guy I'd met last weekend while out at the Brazilian bar. Haha. I'd told him how it was near impossible for me to practice Spanish, despite LIVING in Spain, and how I could really use somebody to practice with. Moments later we had exchanged numbers.
The next day when he texted me and I'd remembered the whole thing, I laughed to myself, wondering when I'd become the girl who randomly gave her number out at a bar... Well, no, stupid question; I'd become that girl last night at the ripe young age of 23 years, 9 months, 14 days and 7 hours. Not that I was judging myself for it but any means... See, a few weeks ago I had the epiphany that I would be turning 24 years old in a mere few months. To me, 23 is still a kid, but 24 is the first year of being adult aged. And, along with being adult aged, comes responsibilities and benefits: By 24, you should really have a decent paying, steady job that forwards your professional career I some way... But you should also stop feeling guilty for doing things like giving your number out at a bar. You see that logic there? ;) Yeah, me neither... But it just makes sense in my mind. Haha.
Anyway, this guy had been very persistent with following up on the whole thing, so I'd agreed to meet him for coffee Friday night. Of course, once again, when it came to 5pm, all I wanted to do was cancel, but things had turned out so well the last time I randomly met up with somebody new that I knew I couldn't back out now. I threw on what I had worn that morning to school, put a wee bit of makeup on and left for the train.
This is a other weird thing that has changed in my personal philosophy about life recently: when going to meet somebody for the first or second time, do not dress to impress or get made up or pay any more attention to your hair than you would have otherwise. I can impress you later with the the fact that I can occasionally be persuaded clean up surprisingly well... But if you're not utterly enchanted by my winning personality (okay - extremely strange and unique personality), the forget it. All the desire I used to possess to impress people had run dry and has been replaced by the pure exigency to be nothing other than myself.
I think this changed on my travels. I remember my first night in Dublin wanting so badly to make everybody love me, and then how I was my last night in Brussels, really not giving a crap what anybody thought of me and being comfortable in my own skin. I think the issue previously had been that I'd never really been certain that who I was was actually likeable, and so I tried to cover it up by trying (sometimes too) hard, or by clamming up and not knowing who to be. I think it was Christmas Day when Lucia and Sebastian told me I was cool and they wished I could stay longer that I began to realize maybe just being myself was awesome enough for certain other awesome people... And that the only true was to determine another's awesomeness was to be 100% authentic and see how they take to it. ^_^ It saves such an amount of time and energy, and keeps a girl from wondering, "What would they think if they really knew me...?!" Haha.
There is some Marylin Monroe quote, I think, that says something like "It's far better to be absolutely ridiculous than it is to be boring and normal." At this point, I really couldn't agree more. :) It really takes a certain amount of balls to wear my monkey technicolor dream coat and my sequence glitter Chucks and talk about my undying love for cupcakes and mention my stuffed dog that I've slept with since I was 16. It's just not "normal"... But, then, I'm not normal, either, which is what, I'm finally beginning to grasp, makes me so worth getting to know. Awesome people like bravery. Awesome people like uniqueness. Awesome people like self-confidence. Awesome people value a certain amount of ridiculousness. ;)
I met up with the guy at the bear statue in Sol and we went on a stroll down to Plaza de España and over to Templo de Debod, just in time for the sunset (obviously the most perfect time to be there, as it boasts a great view of the Royal Palace, and when it starts to get dark, they turn the lights on to illuminate the temple and it looks so magnetic yet mysterious!). The whole way we talked - about what, I don't really remember... all I know is that it was all in Spanish. We continued our journey until we ended up at Starbucks, where I ordered a white mocha and was surprised with a cheesecake (hell yeah) for the second time in the past week (possum style, yo!). ^_^ We sat there for at least an hour, giggling and speaking more Spanish until he told me he was supposed to meet up with a friend and did I want to come. I said sure, and we went off to a more typical Spanish bar and hung out with his friend - who was a very odd sort of fellow, but with good stories. :) We all shared our roommate horror stories and they were hilarious!! It was actually really cool to hang out with two people I hardly knew - and all in Spanish! - for the night. :) At some point, though, I was ready for Friday Night Adventure: Part II, and I told them I should get going... After all, I had been speaking Spanish for FIVE hours straight and I was impressed enough with myself for the moment. Haha.
I didn't want to be rude and not invite my new friend along, but, well, I didn't want to invite my new friend along. I'd had fun, but I was ready to part ways for the night. So, I told them I was going back to Alcalá. The guy offered to walk me to the metro stop... Which turned into him taking the metro with me to the train station, then to entering the train station, too, as he also had to take a train home. >_< In all honesty, I was within walking distance of my next destination when we'd left the last bar, and I had planned to just leave the metro station after he walked me there and head for my friends... But after a long metro ride and using my Cercanias pass to enter the station, I was €5 poorer and about twenty minutes away from where I needed to be. >_< THANKFULLY the guys's train got there first, so I could get out of the train station and head back to the metro to back track. >_< Haha. Lying FAIL. Brother.
As I made my way back to the other side of town, I stopped at a corner shop ("chino" in Spanish, because they're all owned by Chinese people! So racist at first, but so disturbingly normal after a little while...) for a beer. The lady smiled at me as I reached in my wallet and cradled the can in her hands. "Are you 18?" she suddenly asked me, looking genuinely confused. I gave her an awkward laugh and then realized she was serious. I handed her my Spanish ID, telling her I was in fact 23, but here was my card anyway. She looked at it very closely before once again smiling and apologizing, clearly a little shocked.
O_o
I remember the other summer when L got carded in a Chino in Toledo for buying a beer, too. It was even more hilarious, though, since she was 26 at the time! Haha. When I finally caught up with 53 (I can't keep giving people letters for blog code names, so I'm switching to numbers for now - and yes, I have sound reason for this particular one) and told him the story, he just laughed and laughed. It's not so surprisingly a little awkward to tell somebody who is 28 that you were just mistaken for being less than ten years younger than them... Yeah.
>_<
He and I went out to a bar to meet his friends, then went to a bar in the Letters District that turned out to be magical! On the main floor they were playing late 80's and early 90's music, but in the basement there seemed to be an underground Lindy Hop dance going down! The Lindy music was up, the girls were twirling, the guys were doing a few aerials here and there... I felt like I'd just walked down the stairs and back in time to Spain's answer to the Savoy!! I was mesmerized, 53 was weirded out, but we stood there, sipping a drink and watching song after song. :) How weird it was to realize that was my first partner dance I'd learned! Now that I've branched out into West Coast and Forró and Argentine Tango, Lindy looked so silly - like a bunch of people just flailing about! Haha! Of course, I remember how much fun it was, and how I'd get the giggles when a fast song would come on! :) But, I can conclusively say that I am very grateful Fond du Lac's Shut Ip and Dance school allowed me to branch out. ;) Haha.
Another thing about Lindy is that the music really starts to get repetitive after a few minutes, and full on annoying a few minutes after that, and so eventually we wandered back upstairs. There, we created our own dance - a sort of Forró-Rock fusion - and I thanked the Dancing Gods for having blessed me with not only a love of dance, but a decent ability to follow so well. :)
XOXO
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