Careful what you wish for...

About a month ago, halfway through my second academic year here, I found myself wishing I had made a more romantic choice of living arrangements. The place I had was nice enough. Strategically placed in between work and the places I go for fun. Seemingly nice roommates. Una terraza de puta madre. Yet still when I walked down the street, pretty much all I saw were block after block of boring mid-twentieth century apartment buildings largely filled with disgruntled old rich people. The president of my building's association, for example, was a man who had proudly worked the way to the tops of Franco's air force, and hated our appartment (the only one filled with twenty-something subletters) with a passion. After he abruptly forced us to cancel my birthday party last year, I can't say I was a big fan either. So from time to time I found myself daydreaming about living in Malasaña, La Latina, or Lavapies, one of those neighborhoods filled with young, poor but hopeful people.

Well, I got my wish.... but the road that's taken me to Malasaña has been a little bumpier than I would have liked. After dwelling on the negative for more than a week I'm trying to focus on the good things. Suffice it to say one of the old roomies hiked up the rest of our shares of the rent, a move that hurt me more emotionally than it would have hurt my finances. At any rate I decided to leave, and by great luck in my friend Syreeta's appartment there was a room available that was very fitting for my bohemian fantasies. Maybe too fitting. It's small, about big enough for a dress and a twin bed, which is fine. The killer is there's no window, but it's only for three months, and I will be able to save for the next phase of my life. The current game plan is to leave Madrid in June and backpack around until fall if possible, maybe with some camp-counseling or wwoofing worked in there.

And the location is perfect in all the most impractical ways. The morning commute will be slightly longer but the neighborhood features several of my favorite things: the best pizza in town, the best vegetarian restaurant in town,  a store with second-hand books in English, and just that dirty but vibrant charm I love. (Check the neighborhood newspaper which features not one but two articles about graffiti. )