Is it the dark edges of your mind? Or are things really going Bump in the night?

          Anywhere you go there are noises. We get used to the everyday sounds. Sometimes so much so, they help us sleep at night. They can be endearing, if it's your partner snoring (or not), or the crickets chirping. It can also be disturbing when you realize what's helping you sleep are the sounds of ambulances, fire trucks, helicopters, and gun fire. But I digress that was long ago. 
          I have lived in a lot of different places and apartments. All of these places have had their own unique sound. Some have similarities, but still each have their own individual vibrations. The same is true of the place you live. Apartment, house, camper or tent. This my friends, is about the noises in the house.
          When I was young, I had a very hard time falling asleep. Everything kept me awake. Then I grew up. "Grew up" might be an overstatement. Heh, heh. The point is, throughout my adult life I have been moving from one place to another. As a result, I am currently able to sleep through almost any sound. I am happy my body has adapted this way. It makes up for the sleep I lose staying up late writing stuff no one wants to read. Hee, hee. (I am speaking for you because I can. Post a comment if you want... I would love it!!!)
          My boyfriend warned me about the noises from the street here. He was very worried about it. For me, I like it. I also enjoy hearing the people who walk by. One night while writing (quietly) I heard two guys outside the door talking. I innocently decided to listen in. Hey trying to learn Spanish... duh! I started to tune out once I realized it was Catalan, but I couldn't help but get a kick out of the laughing and obvious drunkenness of it all. Then right in the middle of a sentence... A big loud fart! It was truly awesome. Who wouldn't love that? They kept right on talking too. I am smiling now thing of it!
          Moving on. This apartment has the normal sounds inside. The constant hum (with sporadic gurgles) of the refrigerator motor. The creaks. The after flush noises that last for ten or fifteen minutes. And of course the stove noises. The stove.
          Our stove is just two burners. Electric. Set into the counter. Once you turn it off, it starts making a sort of clicking noise as it cools off. That intermittent clicking can last anywhere between a half hour and an hour. Pretty normal. 
          What I was not ready for was what happened about a month after I got here. Or should I say started happening?! Not every night mind you. But maybe once a week. My boyfriend would get out of bed about 5 minutes after the lights went out, saying, "Did you hear that?" "NO... I was about 2 seconds away from full sleep, half in a dream... of course I didn't hear, 'that'!" I think my actual response was, "hhhunhhh? ummm, whahht?" By then my curiosity was sparked. So I would wake up because I NEEDED to know what it was.
          So I watched my brave man (and his cute butt) peek out our bedroom door to see (in the dark), what it could be. Eventually he would decide it was the refrigerator. The one time I heard it first, I went to check. I came up with another possibility. There is a minute chance that there is a rat stuck inside the motor scratching to get out. However, I do not believe this is the case. Phew!
          Then he went away for a week of work. It was my first time in the flat alone at night. Okay I will admit I was looking forward to a couple of things. I was going to get to finish off the ice cream! And I was NOT going to have my covers stolen in the middle of the night! What I didn't expect was the noise at night to be something OTHER than the fridge.
          First night. Suddenly the need to sleep hits me like a tornado hits a trailer park. So I slide into jammies, turn out the lights and put my head on the pillow.I can feel sleep slowly taking me over... and then I hear it. Crap. Every single cell in my body is now super alert. Right up front I noticed, it was NOT the fridge. 
          Okay. So it's not the fridge. It also was not the noise we heard before. I am alone however. Before I could have any funny images go through my head of what it could be (in a parallel universe), I sat up noiselessly. Then I soundlessly slid my ass to the end of the bed and sat for a second. The click, click, click was still repeating. In one more incredible, inaudible move I stepped to the door and peeked out. The noise was coming from the stove.
          This clicking was almost like an irregular pulse. And it was not the same click as the cool down click. It was a sound I had heard before. A very distinct sound. One that I had made happen. With my own hands. I'm thinking all of that as I am staring at the stove, in the dark. I can see just enough to know that no one but me is in the house. Not even a mouse. Heh, heh.
          To turn on the burner, I must turn the knob. The knob has a very specific CLICK to it. ThatUsually, when weird stuff happens, as soon as you are close to it, poof, it's gone! And for about two weeks this happened randomly, day or night. No rhyme, no reason. Sometimes I hadn't even cooked that day. And my boyfriend heard it too so I am not nuts (well, at least not for that). Although I don't think he is as convinced as I am that it is that specific sound. But I know my noises. Just as I know when he's taking more than half the bed (Heh, heh), in all fairness, I may not take more than half the bed... but my ass does take a lot of the bed space!
          Now however it's been almost two months without the noise. And even though my boyfriend heard it that one night, I'm beginning to wonder, was it real? Or was it just my mind playing tricks on me? I would love to think it was a ghost, but I can't really sell myself on that one. I would really have to see a ghost to believe in it. Maybe you have an opinion. Or a similar experience...

I am going to sleep now... we'll see what awaits. My guess is nothing.

kimbersfrog       

          

It has happened......

          Finally it has happened! I am glad it has too! I know, I know, it's been obvious I have been having a hard time with the language and little things here and there. Trying to adjust in a new country isn't necessarily hard. When it's for REAL however, that is when it becomes hard. At least for me.
          There were days I could tell I was almost feeling I was at home. But then I would rush in and change from my slippers to shoes. Maybe I would start outside... then slip back inside because I had forgotten to even put a tiny bit of effort into taming my hair. That is not to say that it would work, my hair can be quite unruly!
          These things are easy for me when I feel I am at home. I feel strong enough within myself to just be, no matter what kind of stresses are hampering my life. I don't care if I leave the house with my pajamas on. Forgetting to brush my teeth, if I'm only running to the corner store. I am confident enough in myself and love myself enough that I don't care about others opinions of me. What can still hold me back is if I feel I don't belong.
          I am not implying that I fit in. I gave up the ghost on that one years ago! I will always be a foreigner here. Anyone who lives outside of their native land will always be a foreigner. I also want to point out that there is one home I have been feeling all along. My heart has been at home since I saw my boyfriend's smile waiting for me at the airport.
          It's the literal, physicality of living here, that I wasn't feeling. I'm not sure I even realized it to be honest. Today, I was taking a short trip to the shop. I was walking and thinking in Spanish about all the things I had to do after lunch today. I was halfway there before I realized that not only, was I in my slippers still. I was ALSO still without my bra. I hadn't even looked at my hair since I threw it up in a bun (without looking in the mirror), and although I had brushed my teeth I felt like I still needed to.
          I was only halfway there. So if I had turned back around right then, that would have cut three quarters of an unpresentable trip. However, I just kept walking. I didn't even make a decision. I just went on. On the way back, it hit me. I finally feel like I live here.
          Not only does my heart feel like it has a home here (as it has since the day I arrived). But I actually physically feel like I am here. And it feels good. It doesn't take away the struggles, stresses or potential problems that might come my (our) way. It is comforting all the same.

Now on to lunch!

kimbersfrog

What I did not intend to write about Formigal....

          Wow! I finally got a chance to go up to the Pyrenees. Well, I was able to all along, but this was the best time for it really. Sorry, did I mention that is where my boyfriend has been working all summer? Yeah. Once I sort of knew the buses I was taking, and what day I was leaving, BAM, I was off!
          It takes 3 buses to get there. The timetables are few and far between. Worse yet, there are not many scheduled per day. Especially if you are going all the way from Barcelona to Formigal (or back). I was. And there was NO way I was going to miss out on spending time with my man!
          On the first bus, I had the luxury of sleeping a little. Un poco. When I decided I should start paying attention (about two hours too early, but well worth it visually), I started getting excited about meeting all these people I had been hearing about for so long. The people in my boyfriend's life that I haven't met yet that he really cares about.
          Unfortunately this quickly turned into stress. Ahhhh, he cares about these people. They are his Formigal family (for lack of a better term). What if I can't think of anything to say in Spanish? What if I don't understand what is being said? Crap. I want to be able to speak well with them. Basically, I psyched myself out. 
          I think most people can understand that second, third, or fourth family away from family feeling. You know that group of people that you are around all the time. You bicker like families do. Annoy each other like families do. Sometimes you like and love them as people, sometimes you don't like them as a person but you love them anyway. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.
          Family and groups that are 'like family', they are wonderful. However, when they are not your own, but the loved ones of your love, it can be a little nerve racking. I will say, since I've been here I have been meeting family and friends since day one. I am not complaining here. I would like to make that clear. In some ways I am lucky, there is not a person I have met so far that I didn't like. How's that for good fortune! But maybe that advantageous fluke could be the reason for my misfortunes in learning Spanish.... no? Damn, okay, that's not it. I know.
          The real pressure point for me, is when I start to get nervous. That is when I choke the worst. Sometimes, I feel as if I appear as if I am an idiot. I just can't get anything out. I can't understand as much either. I would probably do better speaking underwater than when I'm nervous. Guess when I get the most anxious? Yessssss. When I am around the people that matter the most to my boyfriend. Of course I do.
          It's not his fault. It's not their fault. It's in my head. It's the pressure I'm putting on myself to get it perfect. Why would I ever in a million years think that after this short amount of time that could happen. Perfection. Right. Everyone has been really nice too. Everyone has been welcoming. I just keep fucking it up all over the place.
          The tricky part, is how much Spanish I actually have in my head. Shockingly, I know A LOT of Spanish. It's not perfect to say the least. I can have basic conversation. When I try to say things that are more complicated, I get all sorts of messed up. Unfortunately, none of my books go that far into depth. So I have no idea what I am doing wrong. If I had the why's and the what's I could understand what I was doing right and wrong, I could fix the problem.
          Guess what? I can't help myself from trying to say complicated things. I am wordy. Just in case you hadn't noticed already. Heh, heh. When I'm nervous it's hard enough for me to try and think in a different language (words, changing the sentence structure, etc.), but then to also change my brain's way of thinking as well.... that's even harder. I haven't (OBVIOUSLY) gotten to the point of not needing to translate in my head yet... so everything is in ultra slow-mo for me. It's like I'm just watching the joke, getting it later, then I want to make a comment on it, but 10 more jokes have already come and gone in between. To late.
          I have gone off track a bit, but this happens. All this is basically how the various meetings with my man's friends went in the Pyrenees. There was one person I was much less stressed with, but I couldn't hear her well because she spoke in a tone that blended into the background. And of course there was a woman there who would really only speak English with me, and she was really funny. Even weirder for me... by the end of the week, I was understanding more, I was even saying bit more (I did NOT say a lot, just a little more), but I don't think it registered.
          I just have to figure out how to get my nerves under control and maybe, just maybe, some of that Spanish (that all day long I am forming sentences in my head- just in case!) floating around in my brain... might just start to click. It might even come out of my mouth one day. My brain might not even need a babel fish one day. wouldn't that be nice?!
       
Formigal in all it's natural beauty in the future.

(This photo is taken by an incredibly talented photographer. He takes photos as he travels the world. His photos are taken when he sees something that truly moves him, or touches his heart in some way. I think he would call them, Magic Moments. His name is: Joan Massó. He is from Barcelona, Spain.)

For now, I do think that (even though I am pretty sure no one from Formigal reads this it still should be said) everyone I met was truly good to me. Which showed not only what good people you were, but the respect you have for my boyfriend and yourselves. I thank you all, and I am lucky to have met you all. Hopefully the next time around, I will be speaking a little more (or a lot more... let's cross our fingers shall we?)

kimbersfrog 

About my english in these posts....

          Recently I noticed that I have blog readers that I most likely don't know! For me this is quite exciting. First, let me say, "Hello!" to the person or people in Germany that have been reading my blog periodically. I hope you have not been bored too much! And thank you for reading.
          Second all of the sudden in the past week I noticed a bunch of views from Spain! My first reaction was, "Cool!" Then it occurred to me, maybe not so cool. There is no way for me to tell if it is just one person (who is REALLY interested- or appalled) by my writing, or if it is a bunch of people. There is also know way for me to tell who it is. However, I have one big worry.
          I happen to think this is an important worry. If any one of my reader(s) from Spain happen to be a student (or for that matter someone learning English), please DO NOT use my writing as a grammar lesson. What I teach and how I write are two very separate things. If you are a student, and you want to read these, by all means go ahead. There might be words to learn. Even so, look them up or ask me about them. There are phrases and words that I sometimes use that are just old jokes between family or friends. Those don't always mean anything at all in the English language. So, please.... know that this is not an English lesson.
          On a separate note.... who ever you are in Spain that is reading this.... I thank you! And I do hope you enjoy it! Hopefully I will have a real post up later.

kimbersfrog

From chores, to the SLUTWALK.....

          It's interesting where the day can take you. The entire first half of the day I was waging in a full scale battle with the ants. Yes, they came back. And no they are not here anymore. That is all I will say on the matter. The point is I went from that and the normal daily stuff to football to psychological thriller, and now I am completely stuck on a particular women's issue. Actually my mind is swimming in the possibilities and limitations, and chances lost and taken. Now, I find myself asking, where do we all go from here? Or are women not likely to stand proud together anymore?
          I am by nature an idealist. Unfortunately, I am also a pragmatist or maybe realist is a better word. I can see how I would like it to be, how I think it should be. I also see how it actually is. How it actually is, is never as good as it should be or could be. Sadly. But wait! What did I read recently? A story about the 'Slutwalk'. I was so thrilled, I almost did the happy dance!
          How I missed the original turn of events I don't know. How I only just caught on to it, I also don't know. For those of you who, like me, are late in getting information. The 'Slutwalk' is a march in which women and some men don slutty clothes and march with peaceful signs of protest. This has gone global! This is not just for fun, although I do enjoy a slutty parade here and there. Heh, heh. In all seriousness, this is a response to a single comment in Canada. A Canadian cop told a group of college girls that they should wear less slutty clothes if they wanted to avoid getting raped. Yeah. It didn't shock you? I'm not surprised. Me either. I wish it did.
          Really this march is not about just this one cop, that would be silly. It's about the fact that still, in the year 2011, all over the world, women are still shamed and blamed for a crime inflicted UPON them. Not just any crime, an extremely offensive and invasive crime. How many times have you heard the comments: 'Oh she must have wanted it.' or 'You know she wanted it, did you see what she was wearing?' or 'She probably liked it.' Need I go on? 
          It doesn't stop there. There are some places in this world in which the laws make it impossible for a woman to even call it rape. An example would be: if she had pants (jeans, trousers, etc) it couldn't be rape. I guess the thought (as dim as it is) would be that she had to take the pants off so she must have wanted it. Seriously?
          I was beginning to feel like women had lost the ability to stand up for themselves. It seemed like we were reverting to the 1950's or something. It was only a short time ago Michele Bachmann let the, "be submissive to your husbands," fly. Then of course there's Sarah Palin, a sad and disturbing poster-child for women. Now, luckily there is this march. I feel like there might be hope for us yet.
          I don't want you to get me wrong. I don't mean go out like crazy bitches on a payback mission. I just mean work on your strengths. Remember, not to pretend to be something you're not for someone else. And strength comes in all forms. I've seen it with words, in action, in everyday life, in knowing how to navigate through your life when things get muddy. You can also partake in this march or something like it. Or simply stand up for something you believe in without backing down just to make someone else's life easier.
          Also, don't hate on men. Most men I know are damn good people. Others aren't bad, they aren't aware, but they aren't bad. Enlighten them. Nicely. Show them, put them in a situation where they can see the crap you endure on a regular basis. They might actually start to understand. That's the only way, if they can see it first hand.
           
          There are a lot of women in my life that I would consider truly strong women. I am lucky to know them. If I had gone into detail, I would have lost the plot entirely. Instead I am just going to raise my giant eyebrow at them to show them my respect. And note them in here. They should know their strength has not gone unnoticed (no, not just by me..duh). Here goes: My aunts, my sister, my mother, my cousins, my grandmother. As for my friends who I wish I were in a position to see more often. I think the easiest way to do this is list the places: Jersey City, Portland (or just outside of it, I've never quite known), Denver, Melbourne, Sydney, Taichung, Weymouth, and Hingham. If I have forgotten someone (It's either because I don't know where you live anymore, or it's 3 in the morning and I'll probably revise it later)

Just been on my mind
kimbersfrog