Today I was lucky enough to be able to reconnect with an old friend from my college study abroad days. Having bonded over cafes con leche and many, many cervesas (and maaayyybe a few shots of absinthe) when living in Spain, we both finished our maturation into adulthood separately, with Jess going to nursing school and finding herself a delightful man to settle down with, and I diving deep into the debaucherous world of advertising and giving my heart away to a succession of Mr. Wrongs. But, despite the (gasp) seven years that have passed since we last drunkenly mumbled sweet Spanish nothings to the Alicante locals, there we were having another cervesa and catching up on the staggering amount of major life events that can happen between college and now.
And since Jess and her lovely new husband are the first Americans from home I’ve had the chance to entertain on my new home turf, I was like a giddy kindergartener at show and tell. Telling them all about my experience (since I’m such a seasoned Sydney-sider after my whole 2.5 months), asking them what they’ve liked so far, trying to explain that they REALLY don’t have to tip. It was an interesting study to reconcile the me of years ago with the me of now; having a moment reminiscing about our shenanigans at Flaherty’s Irish Pub in Elche while recognizing the weight of everything that has happened between those carefree days and today. Even though I totally crashed an evening of their honeymoon, I’m so glad I got to see my old friend and meet her new husband. I wished it could have lasted longer, even though crashing a honeymoon even for only a few hours had the potential to be awkward. Which basically means all my single ladies really need to get their asses into gear and put in a proper trip to see me. I promised one year of not getting wifed up when I came here, so take advantage while you can! I make no promises after the time limit has expired.