Dating is not a war so WTF are you doing? (post #2 for straight men)

Your collective behavior can only be interpreted as a cry for help. Fear not. Help is everywhere. In fact, help has always been everywhere. This is one of the most excruciating aspects of being female in this culture. We're pretty much waiting around for the chance to help you and you keep kicking us in the teeth. Again, I will not hear your arguments about women being crazy. IF YOU BREAK SOMEONE'S SANITY you lose the right to complain about their insanity. Clear? So far I've never broken a woman's sanity, so this whole crazy side you refer to is your crime and your doing. You should, in fact, be indicted for that. You don't get bitching rights about damage that you, yourself, have caused. If someone even has the audacity to think the words "it takes two to tango" I will hunt you down and kill you in your dreams.

When someone is discounted as not fully human they will probably go insane eventually. You want to complain about your crazy mother? Your crazy aunts? Sisters? GF's? CHANGE YOUR OWN BEHAVIOR. It's like magic, really. It's like watching straight women hang out and play with their gay male friends. Miraculously these women are always having a blast with people who treat them, well...like people. So, jealous no more! You no longer have to wonder why she's so much more relaxed and cool around her pals than she is with you - they are good to her!

I think men are due for a reality check - they've got women pretty whipped right now. Women don't care much about or are confused about Feminism, they still have little earning power, their prestige is still lower than men's, and now they have to contend with the "pornapocalypse" of unchecked violence and humiliation that is rewriting the definition of "subhuman". But they've got everyone saying that that's okay. The veil is okay. The porn is okay. Stealing my potential and my psychological health is okay. Destroying any chance we have of experiencing deep relationships and sex with men is OKAY. It's okay with people. They talk about how many reasons it's okay. It's not okay. How could this ever be okay? Can most of you even kiss a woman well (again, I am only addressing hetero men here - gay culture is different and has its own issues)? Can you? Do you even know? Do you have the slightest clue what you're doing, or are you stumbling through it like everything else, because people make excuses for your ineptitude? Physical contact constitutes billions of unique languages - the one you speak with another is its own language - that particular language is created by and for you and that one lover. Each one is the product of billions of years of evolution and your own life of impressions, experiences, and desires. Even if it's not romantic, this is what is available to us in our sex lives. Unending creation and discovery. You do a disservice to the word "sex" by using it to refer to whatever happens to go on with your dick, no matter how checked out you are.

Tragically, that's not even in the realm of many people's imagination, much less their worldview. People talk about sex like it's a simple thing, like getting off and having sex are the same thing, like getting off is better, in a way. I'm not sure how we got here. Oh right - patriarchy. Which you think is benefitting you. Not having rights to your one and only wild soul is not a benefit - just in case you're unclear on the exchange. Being artificially stalled in your emotional development in order to fit a societal standard of disconnected, zombie-like behavior is not winning. The only thing is that even though you're losing your true inheritance as a human being, you get a little power over other people. You get to basically live like a fuck up but instead of calling you out, the society builds a web of industries to support not only the fiction of who you are but convincing everyone else that their greatest achievement would be to successfully tailor their own behavior to yours, so that you feel like you can "relate" to them. So you don't feel threatened by their questioning your brutal stupidity. So all you ever have to do is look uncomfortable with a situation and everyone will scramble to adjust reality to meet your numbed out, tepid comfort level.

If you approach your life like it's meant to suit you, instead of looking at how your life and the lives of others intersect to influence, shape, grow and care for one another in a progression that is not controlled by your comfort level, well...you get what you get. Not only is that useless and life-stifling for you, but you're meant to be interacting and infusing the lives of others with your spirit and your heart - and you're not. So you're pulling that bullshit on everyone, not just yourself. It's time to talk about that.

You're Doing It Wrong - Yes, Everything, But Especially Breaking Up

From here on out this blog will mostly talk about American men and their social, emotional, and relational habits resulting from their total emotional abandonment by almost every single person in their lives. I am DONE with people not talking about this. This is probably one of the biggest reasons we have destroyed the planet so needlessly - men are willfully isolated emotionally and then they cannot be fully human.
I do not care if everyone thinks I'm completely cracked. It hurts - physically - to continue to leave this topic unexamined. I don't want to talk to women about men - I want to talk to men about men. As a lesbian (homoflexible but culturally a lesbian), as a person who has always considered herself to be somewhat in the middle in terms of social gender categories, I say to you: YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG.
I want to help. This is not a debate. This is a lifeline. I will not discuss. I will not do a comment thread. I will not listen to your point of view. I will use hyperbole. I will make generalizations. If you're a man who has figured these things out then EXCELLENT for you but do not ever say to me: not all men. Because ALL MEN. Of course there are exceptions - this blog isn't for them and they know it because they see the same bullshit I see. People raised as men - this isn't about negating anyone's true identity - this is about looking at the intentional disguises we force boys and men to wear in this culture and how the emperor has no clothes. This is a very deep honoring of men and a demand that they be more active, honest, and open in their struggles and their relational lives. This terror of silence MUST END. In an effort to get this karmic duty of mine out of my personal life, I am taking it public.

I'm So Done Breaking Up With You in Silence and Misery

It doesn't have to be this way. I simply cannot fathom walking away from or ignoring a lover. Do not walk away from someone who needs to talk with you. If you like someone enough to be dating them, then it would be a fantastic idea to act that way as long as you know them unless they do the sorts of things that leave a person feeling dehumanized and degraded. Otherwise, um yeah - you're in this together.

Stop acting insane once you touch someone's body. RESPECT YOUR GOOD FORTUNE. If you are lucky enough to have someone to screw, respect your luck and remember what irresistible pleasure that person is able to create with you, by the grace of your nervous system and theirs. WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TREAT SOMEONE WHO CAN GET THAT REACTION GOING WITH YOU LIKE THEY'RE NOT A SMALL MIRACLE??? I do not know. I don't want to know. I've had sex with a lot of women and honestly have never been treated like anything less than part of their inner circle afterwards. It's enough to make you think women aren't the problem. Because they're not. I have not slept with many men - it's too awful (not the sex, the people) to want to do often. When I have, I am continually shocked and depressed by the sheer inhumanity displayed towards me. And this is from men I clearly once considered to be good people, since we've dated. But no. I am a lesbian, motherfuckers - I do not believe your bullshit about women being crazy. I've broken up with lots of women - IT'S FINE. To this day I have never broken up with a woman to see her transform into a devil. Not once. I've seen anger, lies, hysterics, etc, etc - never saw one of them turn into something not human - quite the opposite. I would say almost every man I've dated has turned into something not human during the break up. An entirely different person. Straight men make women the enemy during break ups. Let it be known that that is insane. You know who your enemy is, dudes? YOU. Men are allowed to turn into absolute monsters and no one calls them out - I'm calling it out. Relationships take guts. If you don't have any, start working on it. If you have the will to address the blank space where your interpersonal bonding ability should be, you can fix it. And you should. You will be happier. And so will the people in your life.

If you like someone enough to have sex with them, I would try to remember that after having sex with them. Sex is for grown ups. If you are so traumatized that the intimacy of sex turns you into Godzilla and you know this from past lovers - you really have no business going there with someone unless you are at the very least working on the issue (openly - not fake working on it in your own mind).

That's it - I did it - I put something constructive out there - this is the beginning of a long discussion of male socialization, why we all want to wring your necks, and how to begin to address it. Sexism is not personally your fault, but it is sure as hell your responsibility to eradicate. Or you can go on being miserable and ruining everything. This is for all of us to fix, but men aren't trying, and it's work, people, it's work.

Next time: HOW TO DO IT RIGHT

I'll have what she's having

Every once in a while I share the list of what supplements I'm taking because I think it's really interesting to find out what works for people and it seems all of my friends have health secrets we'd all benefit from learning - but who stands around listing their favorite vitamins? Besides me, I mean. 

My post today isn't an endorsement of any health treatment - we are each responsible for doing our own research on suggested products and evaluating for ourselves whether or not it's worth a try or if it applies to our personal health needs. 

That said, I'd love to hear any comments, feedback, wisdom, cautionary tales, etc...

So here is the list of things I currently choose not to live without:

maca - energy - fountain of youth, people, fountain of youth

Raw Kombucha - enzymes - I needed these my whole life and only stumbled upon recently.

dhq (Siberian Larch tree extract) - stamina, energy

reishi mushrooms - Google the benefits - too many to go into here.

New Chapter Every Woman II - best all around multi-vitamin I’ve found. Miles ahead of the others.

resveratrol - reverses cellular aging

cat’s claw - improves dna copying

molasses (organic, unsulphured blackstrap molasses) - iron, magnesium, potassium - best source of iron I have ever used, including Floradix.

probiotics - gut bacteria

copper (chelated) - we don't get enough of most minerals

bamboo extract - for skin and hair

topical magnesium oil - for cell function - nothing short of a miracle!

Himalayan pink salt

oregano oil (wildcrafted, in olive oil)

chia seeds

raw cacao

raw, organic coconut oil - how did I ever live without this?

goji berries - superfood and great snack

astaxanthan - a colorful, fat-soluble pigment found in microalgae, yeast, salmon, trout, krill, shrimp, crayfish, crustaceans, and the feathers of some birds. It’s harvested from the sea, and sold in capsules. One of the richest sources of antioxidants available, it gives noticeable protection from the sun after a couple of months of regular use.

So happy researching to you, and I hope you'll drop a comment here if you have a health secret you'd like to pass on :)

Gay marriage blah blah blah

The gay marriage debate...on the one hand, and on a strictly personal point - I am not interested in getting married, so that's not why I am behind it so intensely. And it's boring - it's such a no brainer of a debate, which is why when it goes to court the results are always the same. But it does need to pass, on the other hand.

This morning a client asked me, "Would you have gotten married if you could have? I mean, have you wanted to get married and not been able to?" Out comes "Yes!" faster than I could even think it.

I wanted to get married ( and should have been able to) and the fact that I could not definitely changed my life. Everything that happened around that was a source of incredible growth and change for several years.

I needed to get married for visa reasons and couldn't. I can't tell this story so I won't - suffice to say the stress and sense of terrible defeat that came with being gay and from different countries, neither of which yet allowed gay marriage was crushing. It was unreal - and we suffered everything from Immigration agents mocking us to deciding how many laws I was willing to break in order not to have my heart break fatally through forced separation. Some people one cannot live without. Hopefully we all have someone like that in our lives. The fact that people are okay destroying others' lives and hearts and futures by refusing to recognize everyone's right to marry and keep the people without whom they cannot live close, is unacceptable, as it always has been.

The thing is, if you asked me on a given day if I believe in marriage (marriage in general) or not I would more likely say no, than yes. I have become so used to the fact that I can't do this very simple thing, that I have convinced myself I would not choose it. I cannot conceive of being able to get married to a woman. Now I have no idea - I would like the chance to find out.

Clarence Clemons has apparently left the building. He will be sorely missed.

I have absolutely no right to be writing about Clarence Clemons - I'm not one of those die-hard E-Street Band fans from way back - I only fell in love with them in 2002 after breaking up with one of those South Shore girls who embodied everything in Bruce's songs. She used to say she had doubts about my character due to the fact I wasn't a Bruce fan. I grew up on the North Shore, where the innocent sentimentality in Bruce's music cannot be understood because people there, as far as I could see growing up, were mainly concerned with money and being assholes. They were way too materially privileged to sense the sweet, nerdy, outcast love in the E-Street Band, so they focused on the driving anthems whose lyrics I don't think they ever listened to. They understood Bruce about as well as Ronald Reagan did. I believe their fan status probably made Bruce scratch his head in wonder. But anyway, I got out of there through a pretty major personal tragedy. More than 15 years later I was sitting on my balcony on Prospect Park West, missing Anita, and started listening to Bruce. I totally fell in love. I started annoying my super hip upstairs neighbors by listening to hours and hours of Bruce and The E-Street Band, and about a month later The Rising tour arrived back at the Meadowlands for a ten night stand. I had to go. Vair, vair, funny, said my friends - you'll be the only gay person in a stadium of 30,000 middle class white people re-living their high school glory days, getting legless and mooing "Bruuuuce!" like a crowd of honky Baptists who go see a  gospel choir once every 5 years to prove they can still feel the spirit of God move them through their beer guts.

I bought a ticket through Craigslist from a lawyer in Philadelphia who had bought tickets for his whole family, who had all bailed on him. He was incredulous. This was my first glimpse of the personal, therapeutic nature of the Bruce fandom. We decided where to meet up that Sunday, and I spent the rest of the week trying to convince my Park Slope friends what a huge opportunity they were missing by not going with me. They got endless enjoyment out of this. 

So I was going alone, no problem. The only way to get out there by public transportation was by bus, so in the extremely down-to-earth spirit of the Boss, I made my way to Port Authority and got on a bus out to The Meadowlands. It was filled with people going to the show - and like any Bruce fans, they were comparing the pedigree of their fan status (which is tallied up in years of devotion + number of shows seen + an amazing capacity to remember set lists from specific shows). I was feeling pretty gay...

I get there and meet Andrew - middle aged lawyer, clearly a bit surprised to see this small lesbian with a ceasar cut as his Bruce concert mate. I was wearing clogs, if I remember right. Yes sir, I was. We tried to give each other some space, but once the music started he couldn't contain himself and started , as any responsible Bruce fan would do, to ask me what I knew about the band. I said I knew nothing. He stood right next to me, like a coach, and proceeded to explicate the show. He was very serious and sincere, and the only chance I had to laugh and stare as much as I wanted at the astounding spectacle of thousands of white guys DANCING WITH FEELING AND SOMETIMES CRYING A LITTLE BIT was when Andrew went for refreshments. That alone, my friends, that alone, is a reason to give your heart to Bruce and Clarence. They made the impossible happen, and made it piercingly, poignantly, hilarious and they could, apparently, do this anytime they wanted. After suffering the attitudes and bullshit, willful disdain and blunt brains of this slice of the population, I really could not have invented any sweeter revenge than seeing them unmasked in this way. 

And that was just what I got from watching the fans :)

Watching Bruce was even better. He is a stunning individual. There is absolutely no one like him - he makes Jon Stewart stutter, and I totally get it. Bruce (and it's never just him, right - it's the whole band) is For Real. And like a lot of great people, he has little to do with his titanic fan base. He's said as much. It's a bit surreal seeing this amazing group of friends who clearly have pierced the veil together, conducting a sort of revival for the spirits of white Americans, who are mostly participants in everything Bruce and the band reject. This became crystal clear once he started writing essays on politics and talking about the war at his shows years later. He gets booed a lot by his devotees. 

Anyway the love and beauty radiating off the stage at a Bruce show is absolutely intoxicating. Now two members of the E Street Band have died. I'm listening to "When They Built You, Brother" for the tenth time this morning and having a private wake for Bruce's dear friend and all around fascinating person Clarence Clemons. 

That Meadowlands show, the year after 9/11, tapping into the crack in the souls of East Coasters that tragedy had created, lasted 4+ hours and I'll always remember it. I've never seen anyone else light up a stadium like that - Clarence smiling at Bruce was seriously effervescent. If you ever have the chance to see Bruce with any of the various combinations of the band or solo, don't think twice. 

Like Arnold, I'm back. But not with a crazy story about secret children...

America, seriously. Being away for a while I realized my country makes me very sad. If you know me you know I'm always quick to point out the drawbacks of living in the States, but even I wasn't prepared for the deep sadness I felt coming back. You can say whatever you want about nothing exterior being able to make a person feel any particular way, but the circumstances are tragic and if it didn't impact me I'd be a very disconnected individual. Which I am not. The instant I got back to the States I was hit with an oppressive wave of racism and classism. I flew into the Atlanta airport, where it is extremely creepy that only black people work there. I don't think I saw a single white person in a service job there. Why don't any white people work there? Keep in mind this is Georgia - nothing to do with race is a coincidence. There is a high, tightness in service people's voices there. One thing I didn't experience in the airport was sexism, probably because everyone was just as beaten down as the next person. All of this amidst a constant flow of soldiers taking off for Iraq. Is your head hurting yet? Mine was.

And then I made the mistake of going to a bar to use the internet.

Let me start by describing waiter service in Europe. You walk into a place. If it's not a fancy place when you walk in you're not greeted - you're either alone in an empty room or there are people eating and drinking and you walk in and you can either sit down or wait. I'm so Yank I'll be waiting to be seated until the flesh falls away from my bones. Conditioning. So you sit or stand. Eventually someone comes out and says hello and tells you to sit down without degrading themselves in any way...it's spooky. In fact, they seem to not grovel, out of some deep conviction that they are not doormats. What's an American to do? (Celebrate European democracy). They do not fawn over you as they describe a list of specials that no one should have to recite 40 times before they get through with work. In fact, they are so cheeky as to ask you what you want without going into 27 degrees of insane conditional verbs, like "I'd love to get you something if you'd like to have something let me suggest that you might want to try our....ad nauseum. They do not tell you their name. They may even make you ask what they have - as they raise their eyes to yours - as if they're equals! Warning to middle class Americans here - they actually get paid whether you tip or not, avoiding a lifetime of performing like trained seals, whereas in the U.S., they work regardless of whether they get paid or not. In Europe they even get paid if they take a long time getting to you because you're not the only customer and they have work to do to keep the restaurant clean and running smoothly. You're expected to wait! It's like...manna from heaven. I HATE eating out in the U.S. because of the possible ruptured friendships resulting from people in my party saying things like, "God, I've been waiting like 3 minutes for my drink - it's like this guy/girl doesn't know they're working for tips." Or "They didn't even come check on us and I wanted more (free) chips. There goes their tip." I avoid eating out here like the plague because it often brings out a side of people that should really be reserved for their therapist in an effort to purge it from their character. In Spain I could enjoy a wonderful, guilt-free public dining experience and didn't even feel like I had to reassure anyone working during my meal that I wasn't a complete prick. Because they don't care if I'm a prick or not! And waiters aren't the stress receptacle they are here so people do not take out their anger on them. It's like a miracle, only it's just simple respect. Which may qualify as a miracle in my supposedly democratic nation.

But here at home? The waiter and the floor manager (not even a position in Europe unless you're into the high end places) were so subservient and concerned about my satisfaction with my iced tea and chips and salsa I wanted to pay them to make them go away. I had to reassure them many times that everything was fine and it was the greatest service I'd ever had - and even that didn't get rid of them. I wanted to write them a letter but I'm writing this instead - it's dedicated to Derek and his floor manager who I thought was going to give me a back rub when I couldn't take any more tea refills. I left him a huge tip - partly so they'd know I really appreciated their work, and partly so Derek didn't get questioned under hot, bright lights as to what he could've done to go above and beyond my expectations and hence to have gotten me to spend more money. His defense would be the huge tip. Why do I know these things? Don't ask.

Here I am back home. Back (sorry to obsess) in the land where people who speak Cervantes' language look at the floor when you walk by instead of saying hello. Don't get me wrong, it's not because people here aren't friendly - they're responding to the disgusting racism that governs our lives and is surprisingly rarely mentioned in polite company. The situation here has always been heartbreaking to me, but I'm feeling it more after having been in Spain for long enough to bond, where I was the obvious foreigner, the one out of place, the one who needed to worry about her visa status. And I did worry, because, as usual, I was breaking the law. But I wasn't worried about being brutally deported or arrested - just worried about my next visa.

Hispanic people here avoid my eyes when I go to the store. We live with, and often unconsciously support, a type of Apartheid in this country.  I speak Spanish at home. I'm fluent in Spanish but I'm white, so I have to stomach being treated as other white people are - as a racist. When I was in LA last year I rubbed my eyes as I was forced to accept that Hispanic people weren't even acknowledged in public - no eye contact on the bus, on the street, in cafes - none! I thought Texas was bad - and it is, but California, ouch. Wherever I went Hispanic people only talked amongst themselves and looked down or away when in mixed company. Clearly I'm talking about people who immigrated - not people born here. But we're working on making them slaves as well - there's a new push to not grant citizenship 'solely on the basis of being born in the U.S.' - just typing that makes some bile release from somewhere deep inside and thanks, America, it tastes like shit.

We talk about Hispanic people and immigrants as a big block instead of as individuals, we feel free to not go out of our way to say hello and break the culture barrier, and when white people are trying to be cool they come out with enlightened statements like, "We need them - after all, they take the jobs no one else will do." This is wrong. I hear so many stereotypes and assumptions about immigrants - about what they want, what they 'deserve', what role they play in our country...this situation has got to change (as well  as associating Hispanic people with illegality (a horrific wrong)). I for one would like to stand up and say that as a Caucasian American I break the law all the time in small ways, knowing I'll never have any problem. And so do you! I've overstayed any and all visas ever imposed on me, actually, because they're too restrictive. Because of my passport and my skin color, I can joke about it with friends, rather than have people look at me like I'm a criminal. But I am, technically, a criminal. If I were Mexican I'd probably be in jail or in hiding for doing the same thing.

So what? So why write about this? Because I work in yogalandia, where people are constantly plastering every blank surface with inspirational quotes, but they are ignoring the true opportunity for righting wrongs right here, right now.

Suggestions? Personally I hate suggestions...so please stop reading now if you've ever been subject to the tyranny of 'suggestions' that were actually 'commands', but many of my friends who were trained in corporate America will demand suggestions for improvement because that's the language they speak. Engage in conversations with people you are freaked out by. Take Spanish. Stand up for Mexico because we're destroying their country on purpose. Join groups that fight for black people's rights. Join groups that fight for people's rights who are not like you. If you're a man, join a feminist reading group or read up on what's going on. If you're straight, subscribe to a gay publication. Start to weave diversity into your life instead of feeling lousy about being uninformed. Make eye contact.

Postscript : It's been pointed out that all these suggestions amount to one thing that probably represents everyone instead of who I happened to mention here : working for social democracy in America. I agree. Thanks!

Oh My God How Did This Happen I'm Going Home Soon

Excited and a bit sad about the end of my trip. Of course.

I will miss the deep darkness not being in town, and the amazingly loud and chatty sparrows. I'll miss the low, steep mountains and their days of mist so thick you can't see anything out the window. I'll miss the herb garden where I planted lettuces we don't have in Texas. I'll miss the army of old men, out and about from morning till night, socializing, flirting, drinking a little and generally being charming. I'll miss being a pedestrian. Every year I get worse about discipline in my use of the car. I hope this trip helps. I'll miss Ruth, my fast friend, yoga teacher and very silly partner in crime. Scrumping! I'll miss the quiet in the house, where either I'm alone or with hard-working writers. At least I think they are. I'll miss stopping by people's houses for a few minutes and not leaving for another 8 hours. I'll miss Spotify, and their funny ads, where they pronounce Spotify "Ehspotify". I'll miss the olive and almond trees. When I got here the first almond blossoms were coming out and now the almonds are huge, but won't be ready to harvest until after I leave. I'm not taking it personally.

I'll miss the dramatic, steep-sided grey stone peaks, and the low clouds that envelop them in mist so beautifully. I'll miss the roosters, the sheep and the goats. I'll definitely miss the sound of the goats' bells as they (sort of) hurry up home at dusk. I'll miss the local avocados, which Ruth orders by calling a friend instead of going to the store. I'll also miss her "Mailbox Chapatis" and kitten farm. There's too much to miss about Ruth to list here. I'll miss the stars, of course - back to my light polluted city. I'll miss taking the bus and basking in the neighborhood gossip and news on the way to Malaga. I'll miss being able to take a train anywhere I want to go.

I'll miss greeting new writers and getting to know them sometimes more, sometimes less. I'll miss taking the goat track to town, with the barnyard at the end. I'll miss hunting for petrified almonds on steep slopes of red dirt. I'll miss taking my camera with me everywhere because there's always something to photograph. I'll miss the Bar Niza in Velez Malaga and it's incomparable charm.

I'll miss being remote. I'll miss being more or less anonymous. I'll miss the donkeys and the characters who own them. I'll miss seeing people till soil with a plow. I'll miss seeing horses along the road. I'll miss explaining what a pretzel is to my well-traveled friends. I'll miss the fresh seafood - the enthusiasm over squid and octopus of every size and type. I'll miss the small, Pancake-sized glasses of wine. I'll miss being 7 hours ahead of Texas - I've gotten used to getting the news first. I'll miss breakfasts in bars. I'll miss olive oil being more prevalent than any other oil. I'll miss the career waiters and bartenders, who are not only cool and friendly but really, genuinely, insured and paid decently. I'll miss the relaxed faces and soft eyes. Back to stressed jaw lines and somewhat harder smiles.

I'll miss that no one even mentioned Bin Laden's death. I'll miss the absence of debates over evolution and gay marriage. I'll miss having political discussions where everyone in the discussion bases their point of view on actual facts, rather than fantasy. I'll miss blogging about Spain. I'll miss having no plans. I'll miss the rush hour that lasts ten minutes. I'll miss Europe's more logical mind. I'll really miss people saying, "Yes! Exactly! I totally agree with you!" It's like music...

I'll miss the fields of artichoke and endless orange groves. I'll miss the scent of orange blossoms, for sure. I'll miss people waving as they pass in cars, and always saying hello on the street. I'll miss the carnations. I'll even miss the dog barking right now. I'll miss having white bread, pasta, wine and coffee as if that's normal. I will miss looking at the calendar and having months left to be here. I'll miss buying local olive oil sold in recycled (read: used) plastic water bottles. I'll miss not having to explain myself for wasting time.

I'll miss the "Lookie Lookie Woman" who pushes local produce on everyone who walks up her street or runs into her while walking around. I've never felt so much pressure to buy so much that I already wanted in the first place :) I'll miss the old man who also has a shop in Comares who always throws in a little something for free, and whose place I'd love to take when he retires. I'll miss the supermarket that's barely larger than a convenience store and somehow supplies a village. I'm sure there's more - things I've gotten so used to I won't notice till I'm gone. Just wanted to get a few things down before it's too late!