Almost 11 years to today, I was moving from San Francisco to Chicago.

Huh. I've been here a while....

Sorry about the mondayish of today, Dana.

I've never been to Barcelona. It's on my list though.

I blame Jesse.

I like this plan.

I really liked Barcelona, though I had to get used to the fact that they had no concept of personal space. Zilch. Nada. And were way more talk-to-strangers, which ended up being awesome.

It is quiet. and I have no noise to add.

I loved Barcelona right up until I got food poisoning and spent nearly a week in a public hospital. That part was less fun. (Tip for travelers in Spain: do not call an ambulance, for they are privately run and extremely slow to respond! Unless you have a broken neck and can't be moved, go to the emergency room in a taxi instead. Also, it helps to know people who can pull strings and get you admitted to a private hospital where they will have room enough to actually admit you, at which point they will give you food.)

My mom went topless on a beach near Barcelona when she was about 45--she giggled while she was telling me of this daringly risque event when she got back from her trip. That, combined with the fact that she kept on getting hit on all over Austria, made her feel wonderful, considering she had officially moved into the "empty nest" phase of her life just then.

Am in orientation. Apparently I'm not allowed to approach armed troublemakers.

The current speaker had a plant stolen from his desk. And replaced a month later, looking much better, with a note threatening to steal it again if he didn't start treating it better.

My mom went topless on a beach near Barcelona when she was about 45--she giggled while she was telling me of this daringly risque event when she got back from her trip. That, combined with the fact that she kept on getting hit on all over Austria, made her feel wonderful, considering she had officially moved into the "empty nest" phase of her life just then.

When I'm 45, my nest will still be full.

Of teenagers and pre-teens.

Yikes.

I suppose it's possible that when I reach 45, I will have started filling my nest.

Yikes! Which means that I'll be close to retirement age by the time my nest is empty....

Believe me, Cindy, you don't want my mom's marital background for yours. She was married right out of nursing school and had a son with a man who ended up being a complete asshole. He didn't abuse her, but he was a gambling addict who ended up serving time for kiting checks (she told me about the time the cops came to their apartment looking for him, and with my brother in her arms, she answered the door, looked at them in disgusted resignation over the asshole's behavior, and just told them, "He's hiding in the bedroom closet"). After the divorce, she married my dad on the rebound, and popped out my sister and me in a few years. She says her 20s were the worst decade of her life, even though she had the reward of having us kids during that time.