I think it’s time.
Nobody calls me Ice Cream anymore.
I don’t live in Madrid.
I’m back home, where people hold doors for you, say please and thank you, and are conscious of personal space.
If you drink on the street here, you get a ticket. Staying out till 3am constitutes a very late night. I’ve gotten used to speaking without planning it out in my head first. My grocery bills have grown exponentially, and my vitamin D levels have fallen. This is, very much, not Spain.
This blog was an interesting experiment. I wrote a lot more than I posted – I’m still internet shy, and it still seems strange to post (personal) things that anybody could read. But it did get me in the habit of writing more, which I’ve carried through to life in Canada (I’m taking a class, even!).
I wanted to have some kind of concluding post, instead of leaving it hanging back in April with my story about buses, beers and bunnies. I’m glad I started the blog, and I hope to have another one sometime soon. In the meantime, you can find me in Halifax, sitting under my daylight lamp, reading the Globe and Mail, listening to the CBC, running in Point Pleasant park, drinking pints of Garrison, studying at the King’s library, reading plenty of fiction, teaching Spanish classes to kids instead of English, dreaming about travel, and planning my next adventure.