From the moment I knew I was going to spend 9 hours of my life on a plane sitting between two strangers I started picturing who those people could be. Well, you know the kind of nympho I am, actually fantasizing about all kinds of sexy people… I swear, my favorite scenario was the one I sat between a Mexican dude and a Spanish one; you must know exactly what I mean, two of the finest samples of what both countries have to offer: young, hot, funny, and with a very thick accent (ha! you thought I was going to say something else, huh?). Apparently, someone listened to my prays, but just to half of it. I sat between a Mexican and a Spaniard… Around their 50s.
Ok, the Spanish dude had this George Clooney sexy vibe going on… But, whatever.
Nothing major happened other than that. I went to the bathroom, and it said it wasn’t occupied; so, I pushed the door and someone pushed right back. I see now that knowing how to use a lock is a gift given to only a few lucky ones.
My brother drove 5 hours up to Madrid just to pick me up (he’s such a sweetheart, isn’t he?). On our way back to Oviedo (city where I’m going to stay until classes start) a fucking pigeon crashed against the windshield. Just like that. I thought that kind of things just happened on horror movies; just there birds have a death wish. There were blood, brains and feathers splattered all over (if you needed help picturing the whole thing).
I’ve been staying on my brothers apartment, and if you read the last part of my ‘Something about me’ section just to your right you would understand how that could be an awesome thing for me.
He has a girlfriend now.
May I go back to Mexico, now?