In the short span of the two days that have passed of my weekend I have managed to watch not only Pride and Prejudice but Shakespeare in Love and Mona Lisa Smile as well.
(Before you go thinking that I am a hermit or should have been doing more educational things I also went to the beach and out to lunch with my friends and the movies were in Spanish.)
So I basically went from wanting my very own awkward antisocial Mr. Darcy (although I must add that I secretly find the ginger that marries Jane attractive as well) to wanting a romantic chest haired poet that probably doesn’t shower more than once a week to developing a serious distrust of male Italian teachers and Wellesley College in general.
Anyways after finishing the last movie I started thinking about what qualities would really make up the perfect guy. First thoughts admittedly erred towards the stereotypical guy Disney convinces you exists when you are a small child (LIES) then I made a mental list of all of the characteristics that the perfect guy would have. After having finished I simply decided that when I’m older I will conform with someone who enjoys folding the white laundry loads - although if he’s smart, funny, foreign, and likes to dance that would be cool too.
Then today after supposedly having solved my perfect guy debate I found out that my little sister has a boyfriend and that ‘he’s just the most perfect boy there is’. I pestered her with the usual questions: How old is he? Is he smart? Is he cute? Is he nice? only to receive shrugs of relative indifference and a general response to some unidentified question that I wasn’t even aware I asked.
“He has a really big pool in his house.”
There you have it Tumblies.
My father is so cute and modern with his Facebook chat and shortened words. Still he has a point - I have not posted a single picture to my American Facebook from this year. Well..thats normal.
Today I walked downstairs to grab some breakfast. Feeling too lazy to plug in the toaster (seriously…sometimes I even amaze myself) I just grabbed an apple out of the fridge and sat down at the dining room table. Since I was the first one up I sat waiting a while until Mamá and Iñaki found their way down. Half way through munching down my apple I watched without words of greeting (I’m not exactly a morning person) as they walked into the kitchen. Mother hen as always Mamá began the normal good morning pleasantries only to stop mid “buenos” staring distractedly at the sink.
Groggy and deciding it would simply be better to wait out the silent sink-mother stare down I just continued munching. It was then that Iñaki followed Mamá’s glance and said “What’s the toilet sponge doing in the sink? Ostras…you don’t think someone used that to wash the plates last night do you?” At first all that popped into my mind was “Ha..what idiot would use the toilet sponge to clean the plates?” A thought immediately followed by my realization that before that moment I never knew that we had a toilet sponge and that it had been my turn to wash the plates last night.
I leave it there.
Today I had a day filled with yard work in bikinis followed by laying out for a generous pair of hours with my mother and sisters. They occasionally applied SPF 30 and have notably become much tanner while I applied a metric ton of SPF 50 and managed to become if not tan a shade or two pinker. Small steps.
