The Life I Love

Today is my final day of vacation. Kind of. Tomorrow is the last day that I am officially not working, but with an 830 bus ride to Sevilla followed by a 1315 flight to Paris and an evening in the City of Light for one, tomorrow is seeming less and less like a vacation day and more and more of a day that Paige designed.

Sometimes I really feel like sitting that hyper-active, plan-a-thon of a woman down for a good long chat. =o)

But that's the difference. She does these things when she is in NYC and well, I feel differently here. Here, in the place I love.

Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for an evening in Paris. I love that city. I love the romantic lighting. I love the charming views. I LOVE the food... infact I already know my menu for tomorrow -- moules frites and steak tartare with a lovely Bordeaux. I love Paris.

But I love the life I live in Spain more. This morning I got up and attempted to run, but this non-sensical congestion in my chest eluded me, and I biked a few miles instead. I had coffee and pan at a breakfast spot on the corner and spent the entire afternoon in the sun...broiling. I returned to Eline's (she's working so she can't really play today) and made a mimosa, wrote in my journal, got online to check the tennis scores, and then daydreamed about the day that I can finally figure out a way to make this Spanish escapade happen. I want that more than anything.

In the few days I have been beachside and my mind truly gets to relax, I compare moments like this -- of absolute calm -- to those that I know too well in NYC of constant frentic energy. Here, well, I am here. I have nowhere else I want to be. Even in Sevilla, I can sit in a cafe for hours, on the sidewalks drinking cafe con leche or tinto de verrano. But in New York, there is a state of craze that follows me. I can't multi-task enough, I can pack a bajillion things into one afternoon, or have a dozen things done before noon and still feel like I am not doing enough. Its nuts. Here, I have no need to pick up the phone. Here, I allow my mind to wonder, my thoughts to become what they will. There, I fill every 5 or 10 minutes up with calls to family or friends when we really don't get to chat, but more or less fill 5 or 10 minutes with as much as we can fit in.

I have often said to my mother that when I am here I understand her life in Cartersville and why my sister is there as well. They don't want to be anywhere else. Yes, they lead busy lives, but they are home. When I go there, I get restless. Cartersville is not my home. Its where I am from, but its not where I feel peace, its not where I dream, its not where I want to be. Nor is New York, or anywhere else on that side of the Atlantic.

This life I am staring out at, is everything I want. Blue skies, friendly people, warm weather, and an ease that you just don't find in the States. When I am here I find a way to fit in all the things I enjoy -- writing, being outdoors, beach, friends, reading, catching up, etc. There, its all the things I have to do. Its a depot for me, a stop along the way, until I can get back to where I want to be...however and whenever that may be.