Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Pillow-Stealing (not Shadow-Stabbing)

I don't know what it is about lunch — whether I eat at an odd time (2 or 3 ni the afternoon), or pick unpopular places, or what — but just about everywhere I've eaten for lunch has been deserted. I had raviolis at La Rústica, un restaurante italiano, and I was the only one there. Yummy oil-and-green-stuff for the bread, though, and very finely grated Parmesan.

Over the weekend I told Silvia about my pillow-induced headachs. She totally understood, and we commiserated un ratito about how we travel with our propias almohadas, and she with her sábana, también. We went into another bedroom del patio mexicano (donde vive Ann, no sé porque, pero quizás porque está en Oaxaca algunos meses), and we stole one of the pillows from there that I liked better.

Silvia said that the room belonged to another student who'd been there a while, but he was currently out travelling. Thus not around to defend his pillowage. Muahaha. And his pillow really is much better.

Anyhow, Sunday night I was by myself at the dinning dining room table (*grin Squirt*), cosiendo. I heard the front door/gate open, which meant someone with a key had just gotten home. But everyone I knew was already in their own bedrooms, so I wondered who it was.

This guy, about my age, wearing a backpacker's backpack came over to the dining room. We exchanged holas, then he asked, "¿Hablas inglés?" followed by an "Oh good." Hehe. We talked a tiny bit, then he went off to find Silvia. I think today was his last day here, and he's off to do more travelling.

However, the point of this long-winded introduction was just to mention that backpacker-dude also has a Moleskine notebook that he carries with him. :)