I woke up early and I have a bit of time before I go to work. I'll describe as a matter of fact what I did this weekend. It will be low-effort, disorganized and very likely messy cause my mind is not very clear close to my waking time.
On Friday I came back home from work after yoga and then embarked on a house-wide clean-up since my guest was arriving. I wrote an entry justifying myself making an invitation to young attractive lady. I didn't publish it but it gave me some peace because I worked through some sensations (feeling like a creep mainly). It basically concluded that I'd be a decent host based on previous performance, and inviting someone because she is beautiful is not very different from inviting someone who is a very good cook.
My guest arrived to Cibeles at around 1am. It's about a 15 minute walk. I offered to pick her up but she said that she could handle her luggage. She's jacked so she's right. I wrote back "Oh I'm sure you can handle your luggage, but I'm not sure about the drunkards on the street, you'll cross the party area", which was completely true, the shortest way to my house (and the one she would follow from the map) would land her on the party street of Huertas, which was what I wanted her to avoid.
On Saturday I went to yoga and she met up with a girl from a female hospitality site, I don't remember the name of the site. My guest said you can find other women with whom to hang out and you can also stay like couchsurfing etc. I've hear about this site before from other guests, and they say it's great for meeting up but bad for finding a host. This intrigues me and illustrates strange intersex dynamics: not enough women are willing to host other women, so they spill over to couchsurfing where they skim the male hosts to find safe people.
(I'm now at the office so I will simply register what happened quickly and go on to work).
My guest sent me a considerate message asking if it was ok for her new acquaintance to stay at home for one night. Her friends were arriving tomorrow and she could skip the hostel for a night. I considered it for a moment, I don't like when people start asking for more once you've given them something: it's correlated with manipulation as you're more likely to agree to a favor once you've done another so I always get a yellow flag when this is done. But then I thought: my guest gains nothing and I lose nothing. It's ok. The friend was a black 23 year old gal from Chicago who was finishing a degree on IT, and was pleasant.
That night I went to Govi's birthday at an ecuadorian restaurant. Despite being seated next to people I was overwhelmed by the amount of people and generally enter survival mode when this happens. It's simply nodding smiling responding and thinking when the hell is this going to be over. After dinner we walked along Madrid Río, V. staying close to me most of the time. I was injustifiably annoyed by almost everything she said. There's something going on, I thought, I've begun to resent her.
On Sunday I invited to yoga my guest, her friend, and Andrés, my former roommate in Barcelona who was visiting Madrid. The four of us went to the studio and had a nice intense practice. After this I had coffee with Andrés who is in transition to going to his parent's apartment in Asturias, leaving BCN for good. Seeing Andrés always reminds me of my own insecurities: I wish to grab him by the shoulders and shake him screaming at him: dude you're fine it's your self-doubt which sinks you, and that stupor with which you meet life! And of course these words could be directed at myself.
After that I went to the park and practiced my handstands. I smoked and fell asleep. I had agreed to go to the theater with V., but I felt absolutely no inclination. I decided to have a nap at the park, perhaps when I woke up I'd be more willing. Instead, I overslept and had to excuse myself for cancelling on such a short notice.
My Canadian family is visiting Puebla, the brother of my father is married to the sister of my mother, and they had gone for my cousin's wedding. They informed me Naranjo, the dog, had passed away. Rest in peace. I didn't want the dog. He was a large German Shepherd stray mix who appeared in front of the house one day. The neighbors and my mother started leaving out food for him. Then someone called animal control and they came to take him away. My aunt from Canada is the most sensitive and caring person in the world, "a living saint" I call her because she gives so much attention and kindness to children and everyone generally, including animals. However, these qualities become cumbersome when you want to be practical, and my aunt plead with us to shelter Naranjo, my mother and sister plead suit and I was the only one saying they (we) didn't know what we were doing, we would make the dog suffer so much, it was best for him to be put to sleep. But my mother said "you will leave and I won't have company, I want the dog", towards which I finally conceded.
The dog had a venereal disease, and blood dripped out from the tip of its penis. It was very unsightly. It's difficult for me to express exactly what I felt, like the dog was a material manifestation of my sexual-psychological state. Subconscious depths that I don't with to explore at this time. I took him to the vet and he recommended putting him down, and I felt the same thing was being told to me. I looked at the dog and thought putting him down would be some form of bypass.
The dog suffered the fate of all our dogs when I'm not at home: he lived a miserable life locked up on the front yard, eating heads of chicken and drinking stale water, finding whatever shelter from the rain it could. I asked my cousin (the one who is getting married) to buy a dog house for him, but he never did and I didn't follow-up. I still don't know what is the lesser of evils in this case: would you rather be alive with a prison-like miserable existence, or be dead?
It's only appropriate that my aunt was there when Naranjo died. They had gone with him for a walk, and the dog seemed very tired. He wandered off and disappeared. The next day the found him curled up next to the river. They took him to the vet and the vet said it was time to put him down.
May you rest in peace Narajo, and that your passing may also take away whatever phantom is it that I identified with when I met you.