wingolog

It has been quite the week, this ninth of 2006. Excuse the boringly sober prose below, I attribute it to the concrete jungle outside the window.

Sunday. A Belgian arrival on an overnight bus from snowboarding in Tignes (pics to come soon[0]). Pieces of a FOSDEM Sunday, went out a microbit in Gent with some of Thomas' friends [1]. Good folks, very alive.

Monday. Back on the train, plane from Brussels to Barcelona. Took a Catalan test, and out to aikido. It seemed my instructor there had found me a flat out in Sant Andreu, so arranged to go and see it.

Tuesday. Back to work. Left early to go to a Guadec planning meeting and drinks. Packed up all my stuff from what was home for my year in Barcelona.

Wednesday. Worked late, preparing for next week. Afterwards with Wim's help I moved out, and so closed a chapter on 4% of my life. Then out to dinner, skipped the bar to go back to Christian's, where I'm staying now.

Thursday. Out early to see the flat -- didn't look so good, but I managed to find an agency staffed by non-psychopaths which is a rarity. Into work and working late, picked up Catalan test results at midday -- 96%, not bad at all. Asked out my catalan teacher. Proposition declined!

Friday. Up before 5 to catch a plane out of Barcelona through Frankfurt, too much snow -- the flight from BCN couldn't land, so I missed my direct flight to Portland. They rebooked me through Denver, but after getting on the plane we sat on the runway for 7 hours.

Saturday. Woke up in a Denver hotel at 5 local time. My internal clock is a bit off. The waitress at breakfast is a drug pusher. My hands jitter from the cofffee.

This week leaves me like a riverbed in a rainstorm, events coursing through the perceptual venturi that is me. It's not going to stop soon either. On Monday I start a week facilitating 40 hours of training classes. After a redeye back to Barcelona next Monday I have tickets to Belfast to investigate St. Paddy's day with my sister that lives there. Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake eh.

[0] f-spot has temporarily become my favorite application. It rocks to the power of rock.
[1] At first, instead of "friends" my fingers typed "threads". Something ain't right.