Are we there yet?

These past few days have been crazy; I keep meaning to get on and write about my last days here, to remember everything before I go back and before it is over. But somehow writing about it seems too simple, like it is better if I just play everything back again and again so I don't ever forget. Just a few minutes ago Tete came into my room with an armful of gifts: dark chocolate truffles, a scarf, and some gifts for my family. After a year, she knows the two perfect gifts to give me, she knows I prefer tomato and cucumber salad to lettuce, she knows I worry about my sisters and would rather read all night than go out. She is, in the most loving way, my mom. Tomorrow she will head to Italy for seven days of driving around and causing Tete travel chaos, and her daughter will come stay with me for my last few days. Which is fine, I'm not looking forward to saying goodbye though, not to mention the lack of her cooking.

So just a rundown of my last week or so... Friday it was fantastic weather and I spent three hours out on the beach tanning, reading, watching Spanish boys in inappropriately small swim trunks play volleyball, and napping. Perfect day? I'd say so :) Then Friday night I spent time with Tete and had a long dinner, did a bit of work on my paper over the Lehman Brothers responsibility in the global economic crisis, and watched a movie. Saturday I started really packing, aka attempting to fit double what I arrived with into the same amount of space at the same amount of weight. Which is not too hard, since the majority of what was in one suitcase upon arrival was ten boxes of crackers and four pounds of fudge, and we can't forget the cookies and gummy bears I brought. So those are no replaced with two new pairs of boots and three new purses, and the two jackets I brought now share their space with my new leather jacket. And as far as scarves go... there's just no hope for those. There will be a few left behind as victims of my credit card scarf buying frenzi. As of now, both my suitcases weigh in at 50 pounds, and I have two pairs of shoes, all my undies and socks, lots of tank tops, lots of chocolate and my laptops to fit into my carry on. That task will be for tomorrow, when it will be raining (supposedly but hopefully not) and I can leave out just the bare essentials to be shoved in at the last minute. Being left out will be: my bikini, as I intend to spend all of Friday on the beach in the sun (please 71 degree forecast be right for once), my jammies, sweats, tennies, and one cute shirt for wearing out on our last night. Other than that, I will be existing in the same outfits with new undies each day so I avoid having to wash anything or unpack.

After the packing started Saturday I went for some Regma (delicious) and on a walk around Magdelena. I'm hoping to make it there one more time before I go, but I figure I have to take advantage of every chance I get to see green before I get back to grey/brown/snow/slush. And then Saturday night I went to Casa Lita for some tapas, again hoping to ensure I made it there at least once before leaving. I had the chicken and shrimp curry skewer, and nearly died in food heaven. Then more paper working, which really translated to Bones watching and wishing Booth was my real life FBI snipper boyfriend. And that I had a really awesome brain with the capacities of any of the people on that show.

Sunday I went to get lunch with Maria and her family; we went to a restaurant near Cabezon del Sal, which is near the town I visited last fall and this spring again called Comillas. In Spanish I think the phrase "Are we there yet?" is exchanged for "Donde estamos? Where are we?" and is repeated as incessantly as any America child stuck in a car for longer than 11 minutes. I suppose the "Are we there yet?" phrase does fit pretty well with the feelings I have had this week... I don't want to leave but at the same time since I have too, the work to be done, the things to be organized and most importantly the food that needs to be eaten just seems to prolong it. With Maria's family, I ate something I have done my best to avoid for six months: morcilla, which is pigs blood and rice fried... it looks like sausage and you peel off the wrapper so that you just have the rice and it is actually/horrifyingly/surprisingly delicious. Then we had croqettes, which is typical breaded cheese meat type nuggets of goodness, and for the main course we had cocido montones, which was NOT the same as what I had when Theresa was here. This time the meat came separately and did not include pig's ear. It was the most delicous meal I have had since getting here. And to top if off, or to ensure I would have a food baby the size of Alaska, I had arroz con leche for dessert, which is essentially like rice pudding with cinnamon. The amount of food I consumed in a two day period was spectacular and I am still surprised that I even get hungry now, I probably ate enough to keep me alive without food for a month.

Sunday night I worked on my paper and studied for my two finals I had yesterday. It was kind of a let down after such a full day of eating, but I guess that's the real life side of Spain. The tests yesterday went well and my paper is all turned in. I shipped off a box to Sweden today (just a note, you can't even use a credit card at a post office in Spain, if you ever come please bring lots of cash) and then attempted to close my ever-difficult BancoSantander account. For as hard as it was to get my debit card, it is harder to close the account. You have to go back to the original branch where you opened it, so hopefully if you moved to a new city you have money to fly back to close it, if you even remember where you opened it to begin with. So that got taken off my to-do list for today and replaced with an hour walk along the beach and sea shell collecting. Which brings us up to this afternoon and Tete giving me my presents and me almost crying. The reality that I will actually go home on Saturday doesn't seem real, since all I really can think about is how long the trip will be. We are heading to Madrid at 9:45 on Friday night, and my flight is at 11:30 on Saturday morning. Which means I'll have about eight hours in the Madrid airport before my flight. Then I'll fly to New York, and then have a bit of a layover before my flight to Denver, and then another layover before my flight to Hayden. At which end will be my family :) How weird is that?

Like I said, writing this doesn't do it justice. There's no way to preserve or express this feeling of pending change but stagnant waiting. As much as I want to be home, I don't want to leave. I'd love to be able to find the words to save this experience but after these 101 blog posts, I just realize even more how much the memories are greater than the words.