Nonsense, Drivel, and Balderdash

It is weird, I have been back in Madrid for half a year and I feel very much back in the swing of things here, and yet every now and then I get that feeling that I have been gone for 4 years. This morning I had a high school flashback. One of my students had to cut the class short so I left around 9 AM. Suddenly I felt like if I was walking to school again, going along some quiet madrilenian street with my backpack on my shoulders. The square tiled sidewalk was still wet from the morning dew between the cracks. The smell of a wet city was in my nostrils: water, dust, mud, grass, gasoline. I was chilly, like I used to be often in high school when I would under-dress for the mornings in order to not carry around a coat during the hotter afternoons. I found myself missing my friend Charles, who used to walk to school with me for 5 years. I was surprised by the sudden flashback. Like I said, I have been back here for quite some time now and I thought I was over my nostalgia. Then I realize...

As we speak (or write, I guess), I am a prisoner. And yes, if that would sound like a very angsty/emo introduction if I didn't mean it quite so literally. I Yes, it's true. I am stuck inside 4 walls and a roof, behind a locked door, and with no way to get out. My apartment-mates left for work this morning and, forgetting that I dont leave earlier than them on wednesdays, locked the door from the outside once they left. Unfortunately for me, my key won't open it from the inside once this happens. So I am stuck. I am supposed to go to work in an hour. I called one of the guys and he is coming to open up once he gets off of work, so maybe I will make it out on time. These things only really happen to people like me.

You know what annoys and confuses the heck out of me? Girls, but not just any girls (ok, most, but these in particular) but the girls who are always pulling at their pants/skirts. You know the ones I'm talking about. I see them on public transportation, in bars, and on the street all the time. The skirt wearing kind are usually seen with some sort of strip of material around their waist, either a skirt or a belt (its hard to tell these days). The thing that annoys me isnt even the length of the garment, rather the fact that they keep pulling it down as it rides up a little, trying to cover that precious one inch of flesh that I suppose they consider inappropriate. Then you have the pants wearing kind (trousers to our english readers). They have those tight, low riding, jeans that keep riding lower and lower as the night goes on, revealing more and more thong and other things. These girls spend all night trying to pull the back of their jeans up. So here is my annoyance: if you are ...

Congratulations Rachel, you have achieved immortality via my blog via the web. Via. I just figured some people deserve a little Ebert and Roeper styled "two thumbs up." So why is Rachel getting a tribute? Well, because she is a kick-ass friend, that's why. Here are a couple examples: - Sophomore year I was going through one of the darkest moments of my life. Bummed, depressed, confused and feeling very much alone. It was late one winter evening, I was sitting in my room, wishing I were dead already, trying to distract myself with a movie or something. Enter Rachel, stage right. "Ryan, you should probably go check out the kitchen." Sophomore year I was an R.A. (resident advisor). I was basically the guy on my dorm floor that was in charge of making sure that everyone was not planning on killing themselves, or breaking any serious rules. The kitchen, being a common area of the dorm, was every RA's responsibility. "Why?" I inquired, hoping that noth...

I walked past a large clothing store on my way home. They still have the giant "Sales" banners hanging in the storefront windows, advertising a January sale that has probably long become stale. So stale, in fact, that even the mannequins in the display had been stripped of their wares. Now, I dont know why, but I always find it extremely comical when I go past a giant display filled with bare mannequins. I dont know why, perhaps it is just the random change that the whole street gets with these nudie displays. The neighborhood is turned from a respectable place to a red light district tableau. Of course, the mannequins are in denial. They stand there awkwardly, trying to keep their composure while exposed and vulnerable. They seem as if they are pretending that they are still doing their job. Perhaps this is what strikes me as funny. Futility and denial are always a bit comical, and to see a whole store putting "The Emperor's New Clothes" on display always bring...

It's sunday night. Tomorrow morning I am up with the crack smoking dawn and I'm off to work. While this is normally depressing enough; on top of it all, my predicament from last week still remains. I am stuck with some shoes that have lost their interest in keeping my feet dry. Instead, they have this crazy obsession with one of two things: becoming sandals, or giving me some sort of foot disease. I don't get paid until thursday, therefore the shoes must remain on my feet for another 3-4 days until I can find replacements and have them fired. I had some pretty high hopes for them this weekend. I thought that perhaps luck would shine its face upon me by having the sun do the same thing. But lady luck is a whore. The sun shone brightly this weekend and now, the night before I have to work, the rain is coming down, covering the streets with water, soaking my shirts on the clothesline, and washing my 'hopes for a dry week' straight into the gutter. Though my attempts at...

I may wear a suit, but I only "seem" suave. It is all a clever ruse, an external appearance that I work for... well, work. Beneath the layers of fine wool and cotton lies the same slovenly t-shirt wearing kid who forgets to iron things and wears mismatching socks as long as they are in the same "color group." Gray with dark blue? Why not! Neither are in the "brights" group. My scraggly beard may seem like it was grown to give me a sense of maturity and experience, but it is not. I gave up on ties months ago and instead opt of the business casual look, which in my dictionary means anything in my closet with a dinner jacket on top. Too hot for a shirt? wear a t-shirt under the suit jacket. Too cold? wear a sweater under your jacket. Is everything else too dirty? Wear whatever is left under... you guessed it, the suit jacket. As the spanish idiom goes, Aunque el mono se vista de seda, mono se queda , literally translated: "even if the monkey is dressed u...

Sometimes your life takes a certain turn, or encounters a challenge or situation that makes you sit up in bed and exclaim "eureka!" in horror as you realize something about yourself that was always there but that you never faced before. A couple of weeks ago I realized that I have been sabotaging myself for years now. It is the kind of thing that people tell you but that you never fully assimilate, or that you do but with a touch of dramatic despair, "woe is me, my greatest enemy awaits inside me." But suddenly I realized it. It happened after a long discussion with someone about the way I was handling a situation and I realized that my attitude towards life, my fear of failure, and my preemptive strikes of pessimism were really keeping me from enjoying life and perhaps even succeeding in the areas that I was really passionate about. I automatically assume failure and therefore don't try to accomplish anything. I am terrified about finding out that I am actually...