It is my last day here because today at 2:30 I get to move in to my very own apartment. I was telling my parents that I cannot wait to lock the door behind me, lay on the floor and roll around screaming, "Mine! Miiine! Miiiinneee!! There is something about American's and property, something that stems from a severe dependence on privacy that makes us feel comfortable or at home. Our obsession with ownership and exclusivity has really taken a toll on myself and our culture as Americans. I can just picture a paraphrased version of an intellectual property litigation suit where the two fundamental arguments are:
Plaintiff: "It's mine!"
Defendant: "Uh-uh, it's mine, give it back!"
But, truth be told, my stay for 2 1/2 months requires some sort of haven, some sort of reclusive get-away that allows me to shut my door, tap my heels three times and wish for the bible belt. I want a place to invite people over, a place to cook, a place to really engrain my existence into so as to create a displaced comfort. The apartment is in a great location with a frutería, verdurería, quesería, charcutería, carnecería, Burger King, Starbucks and McDonald's all in one block.
So who shall I invite to my housewarming party tonight? Hmm..maybe I'll invite..well, or maybe...hmm well. HAHA no one's invited! 'Cause who the %$&%^! would come, I don't know anyone. I jest, there are about two Spaniards I think may make the trip out. Probably only one, Jaime the furniture restoration store owner, will be in attendance. But it will be the most awesome two-person housewarming party EVER!
Don't forget to bring some Manchego cheese, the Deputy loves that stuff.