Message in a bottle
And just in case the mighty River Tormes doesn't deliver the message to all of you:
My laptop is no longer with us.
Long live my laptop.
Tomorrow I will wrap her in swaddling clothes and carry her gently to the local e-computer shop, where I suspect Juan will look deeply into my baby blues and break the news. But then, and I this I promise, unless I am swept up in some utterly in character completely illogical impulse to hike off to Carrefour or who knows where and immediately replace Ms. Toshiba, may she be recycled in peace, unless I run off like a wild wandering technology shopper....I will race right over here to friendly CyberAnuario and make up for my shameful blogging behavior. Promise.
So just what were the adventures of the ingenious Doña Erin Patricia during the last few weeks, you ask? What will you have to look forward to if you choose to return to this humble place? Hmm, well, for starters, there's:
Chapter One. In which our heroine quits her job to do who knows what. But wait, that was months ago, she just couldn't tell you.
Chapter Two. In which she spends an idyllic week in a restored 15th century monastery in the sierra of Seville, and meets a most amazing woman, a Mexican sculptor, and many Iberian pigs.
Chapter Three. In which our Sevilla-addicted hidalga conquers the language (that being pueblo Andaluz, vs. plains Castellano, of course), random bus schedule and contradictory directions to hop a bus to Sevilla for a night out and a morning in at the home of her favorite Sevillian newlyweds, only to find herself facing a talkative visiting Argentina along for the required marcha (night out). She is forced to translate every sentence from andaluz to argentine (zhaves??? zhorrar??) and back to castellano, allowing her to perfect her pronunciation of the word "Cómo?" (Translation of cómo: Say what???)
Chapter Four. In which, after sufficient sherry, Doña Erin and the incomprehensible Argentina come to a brilliant realization about Spanish men.
Chapter Five. In which, according to reliable native eyewitnesses, she completely misses the fact that a Sevillano is trying to ligar with her, and finds him merely annoying. Leading to further development of the Pan American Spanish Men theory.
Chapter Six. In which the company she is about to leave is spontaneously sold to its nemesis, the reputedly evil competitor. She learns alot about how her Spanish coworkers handle change. Or not.
Chapter Seven. In which our heroine battles the dragons of CounterOffers and Wait! Have I got a fat workaholic job for you.
Chapter Eight. In which she repeats "What a country" far too many times to be clever, as the food, and wine, cava, besos and singing flow at work (neither owner being present) before her coworkers head off for a New Year's weekend.
And that's just Part 1...
Sorry about the disappearance. I'll be relatively unemployed soon, so you can count on me to be here.
Once we bury Ms. Toshiba.
Labels: on living in Spain