so, i live in spain now
if I’ve lived in three states and four european countries, am I really an american anymore?
Some personal news: Tom and I moved to Spain last week!
I didn’t intend to take an extended break from this newsletter. Believe it or not, I do have a little content plan table in my Notes folder that is filled in through the end of April. While I did account for the move from the Netherlands to Spain with a couple of dead-easy-to-write-up posts, I did not account for a land war in Europe.
What am I most looking forward to about living in Spain?
I learned a long time ago that my giant forehead and small chin mean I look fucking good in almost any sunglass shape.
Plus, my eyes are hyper-sensitive to light and I need sunglasses on overcast days even more than on sunny days. The bright grey light feels like someone is hammering an ice pick through my eyeballs into the centre of my brain. Sunglasses are as necessary for my sight as my contact lenses.
Calling oneself a “highly sensitive person” is like declaring “I’m an Empath” as you scam someone out of their time and goodwill. But I do believe that my light sensitivity indicates a general hyper-sensitivity to things most people don’t notice.
Including bad vibes.
And boy howdy, are there too many bad vibes on this continent right now.
When that little bitch Putin invaded, I had packing and cleaning to distract myself with during the day. Now that there is nothing to do but wait — wait to find a flat, wait to apply for residency, wait to receive residency, wait to see if we’ll all die of the plague or nuclear war — the bad vibes are like a tsunami on my soul.
Look at me, trying to be modern and cheeky but using the term “bad vibes” when the more accurate phrasing would be “the overwhelming pain and suffering of a world being destroyed by a virus and by viral toxic men.”
Also, not to be a little bitch myself, but the weather in Spain since we arrive has been dismal.
The one bright spark to which I cling is that I wanted and needed to write this and put it out there. Well, not this this. The fact that I wanted to, and could, write anything more than a text message means that my brain isn’t broken. I sat down and wrote this out and I don’t hate it or myself.
Now, if only the Spanish weather would behave like it’s in Spain, so I can break out my collection of fucking amazing sunglasses so I don’t feel so bad about my giant forehead and tiny lips.
no links here, but if you have any thoughts on the question of my “american-ness” please share them with me! that was not a rhetorical question!