6.15.04 @ 11:45 PM Tuesday
“Like I’ve never seen the sky before”
The last song I heard on the radio was Aerosmith’s I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing. Unfortunately for me, this sort of sentiment ended up being a lot more true than I had desired.
We boarded the plane around 7:45 PM. My seat, 35C, was all the way in the back of the plane, interestingly enough. The plan had to have been one of those jumbo jets because there were two seats on each side and four seats in the middle. Once back at my seat, my cumbersome luggage knocked my plastic-wrapped blanket off of the seat. Silently berating myself for packing so much, I went to pick it up but was beaten to the punch. By who, you might ask? None other than creepy boy. Figures. I always have the best of luck in these situations. I managed to smile (quite grimly I might add) and said thank you, as I was thankful for the prompt return.
Kiss of death.
I spent the rest of the plane ride fending off his inexplicable infatuation. My second mistake was to switch seats with the Moravian-bound kid beside him. My desire for a window seat was just that strong. I found it absolutely imperative that I obtain a window seat in whatever way possible. I didn’t want to miss out on any picture-taking opportunities. Anyway, he spent much of the flight asleep, resting halfway into my seat. At some point he started caressing my arm with his thumb. Ugh, this kid was just gross. I had already thought it to be torture to spend the two-hour lightning delay with him. Oh yeah, did I mention that? Right as we were next in line to take off, God strikes down his thunder and lightning and delays our departure. I was none too happy to sit there motionless for two hours before leaving. What a way to build up anxiety. Needless to say I slept merely an hour that night. The worst mistake I made on this flight would torture me for much of my first week in Spain.
“Where you are, is where I belong”
I couldn’t have arrived at that airport soon enough. Once at the baggage claim, I met up with both of the aforementioned groups of girls I had earlier presumed to be part of my program. Turns out I was indeed correct in my assumptions and I gladly joined their guild. We had no trouble locating people from the fundación. One of the directors had come to pick all of us up, complete with signage to direct us. We were quickly escorted to the bus that would take us to Toledo.
That bus ride was most definitely the worst bus ride through which I have ever had to sit. I got carsick almost immediately. By the way, just for your information, Spaniards do NOT know what shocks are… Anyway, I got nauseous, sweaty, and I almost started to panic. I did not at all feel well. I moved to the front of the bus next to my newfound friend Rebecca. I immediately found myself thinking that relationship would not last long, as she was probably seeing me at my very worst. The migration helped me a little, but the hour-long ride felt like five hours of pure torture. As soon as the bus stopped, I immediately ran off and hurled more uncontrollably than I ever have before. Of course I did not make it that far from the bus, thus allowing all of my future Spain-mates to watch my ordeal. I felt a little better afterwards, but not as well as I usually do after I throw up. That should have been my first sign.
I spent the rest of the day throwing up. Turns out I had gone and acquired a little food poisoning from the airline food to which I had previously eluded. Once I got into my single dorm room, I tried desperately to fall asleep but was prevented from doing so by my frequent yet necessary trips to bathroom. Darn that hurling hindering my sleeping abilities. Eventually I managed to obtain myself a doctor. She gave me a bunch of unrecognizable things to take for the nausea. I smiled bleakly and silently swore to myself to throw the random medication out the window after she left. She had me turn over, and to my surprise that nurse stripped off my shorts and stuck a needle in my butt. I certainly was not expecting that. I could not determine what aspect was more offensive. I mean, the stripping part was a strong enough violation on its own, but the unexpected needle thing was just painful. Way to make me feel better nurse. I prayed at that point that she hadn’t just Spanish poisoned me or something. This nurse character left rapidly, giving me time to reflect on foreign medical operations. Yup, not so good. After that I took fewer trips to the bathroom before I finally found myself able to fall asleep. And sleep I did. For nine hours.
So now here I am, lying in my bed around 12:15AM in another country all by myself. I of course am no longer tired since I slept the entire day away. My mind is worlds away from sleep anyway. I keep thinking about Brandt and how much I want to get back to him. And then I slap myself for thinking that because I’ve only been away from him for a day. One day. I guess one day seems like a much bigger deal when you’re a whole ocean away. I still can’t wait until I see him again.
After my brief sleeping stint, I walked around Toledo this evening. Yes, that’s right, I stopped throwing up long enough to actually leave the fundación. I found the cathedral that I had visited four years ago with Mikey. I stood at the very spot I at which I had changed my camera battery. Just standing there made me smile. I think I am going to be all right.