Spain, Spain, Spain
Ah, the joys of being with a borderline, bipolar, schitzophrentic psychopath. What 16 year old teenager really enjoys being with his mother, anyways? Not to mention insane mother. I swear, just by being with her for this long, I feel myself going slowly insane. No joke... I can really feel myself in transformation. Not to say I´m already sane... but, you know. Anyways, a quick recap of the trip.
1. Madrid: Slept when we got there, mom got very angroso, ranted about how she´s completely alone... blah blah blah. Alright, this is not supposed to be completely about my mom, I guess. Walked around. Was really bored. Forgot pretty much all of my Spanish. Met tour group later on (woohoo!). Half the group (of 12) is Austrailian. Other half American or Canadian. Not all old people as I had presumed though a few.
Outlook: Get me out of here.
2. Sevilla: Got there by six hour bus ride. On the way, talked to the tour guide (youngest person there, 24). She was pretty cool in all aspects (being the closest one to my age). Walked around the city with my mom. She´s dead afraid of being alone, so I have to constantly be at her side (Paul, come here, do this... blah blah). I´m kind of with Alex on this whole communicating emotions thing here... There´s no way I can throughly explain the terrors of my mom. Argh. Went to a chapel... Actually planning a film this time (making adequent film clips, unlike with Japan). Palace was cool. Was hot, really hot. Got completely destinated by mosquitos.
Outlook: Meh, ´tis alright.
3. Tarifa: Bus ride. Wow, it´s windy. Another tour guide in training came with us, was quite cool. Went to a restaurant (tapas and paellas, yes!), pretty much talked with this tour guide who was pretty awesome. Uh... went to where the Mediterranean and Atlantic meet. Really windy. Next day, to Gibraltar. Big rock in the ocean. Nice. Monkeys and stuff. People spoke english. Ate a hamburger.
Outlook: Alright, everyone except my mom is okay.
Yeah, that´s pretty much it. I can´t really communicate how fucking frustrating it is having only an insane mom to talk to. Can´t really talk to another person... Because she´s not a social crazy as I call them... She´s acts ¨perfectly alright¨ with other people. Oh well, I guess I just have a bad attitude about this whole thing. Spain is nice, I guess I should be looking at the bright side of things.
1. Madrid: Slept when we got there, mom got very angroso, ranted about how she´s completely alone... blah blah blah. Alright, this is not supposed to be completely about my mom, I guess. Walked around. Was really bored. Forgot pretty much all of my Spanish. Met tour group later on (woohoo!). Half the group (of 12) is Austrailian. Other half American or Canadian. Not all old people as I had presumed though a few.
Outlook: Get me out of here.
2. Sevilla: Got there by six hour bus ride. On the way, talked to the tour guide (youngest person there, 24). She was pretty cool in all aspects (being the closest one to my age). Walked around the city with my mom. She´s dead afraid of being alone, so I have to constantly be at her side (Paul, come here, do this... blah blah). I´m kind of with Alex on this whole communicating emotions thing here... There´s no way I can throughly explain the terrors of my mom. Argh. Went to a chapel... Actually planning a film this time (making adequent film clips, unlike with Japan). Palace was cool. Was hot, really hot. Got completely destinated by mosquitos.
Outlook: Meh, ´tis alright.
3. Tarifa: Bus ride. Wow, it´s windy. Another tour guide in training came with us, was quite cool. Went to a restaurant (tapas and paellas, yes!), pretty much talked with this tour guide who was pretty awesome. Uh... went to where the Mediterranean and Atlantic meet. Really windy. Next day, to Gibraltar. Big rock in the ocean. Nice. Monkeys and stuff. People spoke english. Ate a hamburger.
Outlook: Alright, everyone except my mom is okay.
Yeah, that´s pretty much it. I can´t really communicate how fucking frustrating it is having only an insane mom to talk to. Can´t really talk to another person... Because she´s not a social crazy as I call them... She´s acts ¨perfectly alright¨ with other people. Oh well, I guess I just have a bad attitude about this whole thing. Spain is nice, I guess I should be looking at the bright side of things.