||[May. 14th, 2005|11:51 am]
|||||the damn seagull on the roof||]|
Ireland was fabulous. I got to be 100% self centered, sleep and get up when I felt like it, follow whims, make no plans. I had a super fabulous time.
I had a very weird moment, though, sitting alone in a restaurant. The waitress spoke to me and I was almost SURE, from her accent, that not only was she spanish-speaking, but Catalan. Sure enough, the girls at table next to me, though they were sitting with a bunch of Aussies, were from Barcelona, and talking to the waitress about home. So here I am, expecting to feel at home in an English-speaking country, and better able to understand the Castellano at the table to the left than the thick Irish to the right... and that made me feel at home.
The conclusion is, I'm completely homeless. Or I have 4 homes, none of which seem to take any precedent over the others.
Now I'm bored in Barcelona, alone... trying to avoid this guy who hit on me at the park yesterday and wants me to meet him for lunch... posting to a blog that no one is reading :)
Five more days.