Johanna Writes Madrid

Changes

There have been a lot of changes during the past several months and still many more to come. As you know, we have a new member of our family- Luca Miró. He is now almost 6 months old!

A few months before he was born, it became clear to us that we were going to have to leave Madrid which was naturally stressful news. I´ve loved living here and have made many wonderful friends so the news that we´d have to leave was not welcome. To top it off, finding this out only a few months before having a baby was not ideal timing.

Pregnancy is a time when a missing jar of peanut butter can send you into fits of rage. It is not a time when you want to take up skydiving or wear a great deal of costume jewelry. It is not a time when you want to suddenly start wearing fuchsia and it is most certainly not a time when you want to be informed that you will be moving at some point in the near future to parts unknown.

Nevertheless, this is what happened and for a number of months, we had no idea if we´d be staying in Spain or moving back to the USA. In the meantime, Luca was born and then a few months later we all got swine flu. Luca was hospitalized, I vomited a lot. It was horrible but we got better. We then found out that we would be staying in Spain after all, but moving to Barcelona. Next we hopped on a plane and went to the US for a month before zipping back over to Madrid where we will spend the next 4 weeks or so searching for a place to live in Barcelona before we move on March 1.

So that´s it in a nutshell. Oh, and I also found out that due to visa issues, I can no longer write for the Spanish food and wine magazine where I´ve been working for the past year. This is a big disappointment since it´s been a fun job which has also given a bit of structure to a life that´s been just a bit chaotic of late. Worst of all, I will no longer have access to all those fun food industry trade magazines that give me an inner glimpse into the scintillating lives of European fruits and vegetables. “A complicated year for the Spanish apple,” and “The French tomato faces a new crisis” are just a few of the intriguing headlines that I´ve perused in the past several months. I guess it´s back to People magazine for me now though.

NYC Day One

So here I am in NYC. Nico went to Las Vegas with Alex and my mother-in-law which means that I have nine days to myself here in my favorite city in the world. Actually, the flight over was what I was looking forward to the most. Imagine- 8 hours on an airplane- ALL BY MYSELF! People who are used to flying on airplanes with their small children will identify with what I'm saying.

I'd forgotten how much reading one can get done on a flight when one isn't continually prying toys from between the seats, mopping up spilled juice and lurching around tiny airplane bathroom cubicles with a small child who is determined to rub his fingers over every germ ridden surface in the room. I managed to finish Middlemarch and read all of Sloane Crosley's hilarious book of essays I Was Told There Would Be Cake.

When I finally arrived at my mother-in-law's apartment on East 61st, my primary challenge was actually getting inside. My first task was to get the key to the mailbox which she had attached to the underside of the welcome mat. Under the several layers of duct-tape which I was forced to gnaw apart with my teeth, I found the key sealed in between two self-sticking sneaker in-soles. Then I had to go back downstairs and open the mailbox. Inside I found all three house keys which had also been duct-taped together and placed inside a paperback copy of Honor Thy Father (subliminal messaging?) which was hidden in a manila envelope which had also been subjected to an enthusiastic amount of taping.

Unfortunately she had neglected to consider that I would not be able to get the key to the mailbox which contained the key to the downstairs door, without first entering the downstairs door. Crafty as I am, I managed to insinuate my way into the building using only dexterous charm, the details of which I will not go into. Sufficed to say, not everyone in her building is as careful about letting in strangers as she is.

Every time we come to New York, something in my mother-in-law's apartment breaks down- usually an appliance. This time was no exception and soon after entering the apartment, I found out that both the Internet and the phone were not working. Before the night was over I had also managed to melt part of the bedside reading lamp. (I have no doubt that more will be revealed on the malfunctioning appliances front.)

For the next few hours, I just wandered about the city, trying to keep myself from falling asleep before 8pm and still in that hazy state where every time I heard someone speaking English, I wanted to run up to them and ask them if they happened to be American. It's only been three months since I was last in New York so for the most part, not much has changed. “The Girls Next Door” is still pretty much always on TV and the salon downstairs from my MIL's apartment is still probably operating as some sort of illegal botox bodega. I have never seen a customer stay longer than five minutes and today the place was empty except for the Asian male receptionist who was passed out on a satin upholstered love seat.

Since I couldn't access the Internet or contact anybody, I headed to Barnes and Noble, Blockbuster and the supermarket- the three places I always hit first when coming back to the States because they are the three places where I am sure to find something new. For a few hours I wandered around like a feral child or someone who'd just been released from a long prison sentence- marveling at the new books, movies and varieties of cereal. Later, sitting with my latte and stack of gossip magazines at the bookstore, I kept feeling like I should be getting back soon, that Nico would be waiting for me or that Alex would be wondering what was taking me so long. It was so strange to realize that for the first time in a long while, no one was waiting. It felt liberating but also a bit lonely. Should I really go wild and stay until closing time? I decided against it since I was so tired that I'd probably just zonk out amongst a stack of knitting books, In Touch magazines and empty latte cups. I wearily headed home with some rented movies, only to find out that the DVD player isn't working either. I started to read but after melting the lamp I decided it was time for bed.