One More Day / Un Día Más

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

OK, THE TITLE should really be “Two Months More,” but no one wrote that song. Monday afternoon, I was back at the orthodontist for my monthly appointment. I got my first set of Invisalign braces in October 2016. I was told the entire course would last between 18 and 20 months. Now, 39 months later, I’ve been told I have just two months to go. I guess that was 18 to 20, more or less.

At least I no longer have the sets of plastic braces to remove every time I want to eat or drink something. When the orthodontist attached this one final wire to six of my bottom teeth two months ago, she told me I would have it for two or three months, which I figured meant six. I don’t like her math(s) skills but I finally understand. Besides, I love how my teeth look. Also, the price was fixed. So I haven’t paid a single centimo in 19 months.

San Geraldo usually drives me over and I walk home. It’s only about 3.5 km (2+ miles), but the entire staff was very concerned this time because I didn’t have a hat, hood, or gloves for protection and it was extremely cold outside. I assured them I’d be OK and would even stop and buy a hat if I found the weather too harsh. I toughed it out, though, and arrived home without frostbite — in the 15C (59F) chill. Oddly, my ears were cold by the time I got home.

Tuesday morning I woke with the crag martins to another dramatic winter sunrise on the Alboran Sea, our part of the Mediterranean Sea. One more dawn.

Go ahead. Click the images and watch the sunrise with me.

.

OK, EL TÍTULO realmente debería ser “Dos Meses Más”, pero nadie escribió esa canción. El lunes por la tarde, volví al ortodoncista para mi cita mensual. Obtuve mi primer frenillos Invisalign en octubre 2016. Me dijeron que todo el curso duraría entre 18 y 20 meses. Ahora, 39 meses después, me han dicho que me quedan solo dos meses. Supongo que fue de 18 a 20, más o menos.

Al menos ya no tengo los juegos de aparatos de plástico para quitar cada vez que quiero comer o beber algo. Cuando el ortodoncista conectó este último cable a seis de mis dientes inferiores hace dos meses, me dijo que lo tendría durante dos o tres meses, lo que supuse que significaba seis. No me gustan sus habilidades matemáticas, pero finalmente lo entiendo. Además, me encanta cómo se ven mis dientes. Además, el precio fue fijo. Así que no he pagado ni un solo céntimo en 19 meses.

San Geraldo generalmente me conduce y, después, yo camino a casa. Son solo unos 3,5 km (2+ millas), pero esta vez todo el personal estaba muy preocupado porque no tenía sombrero, capucha, o guantes para protegerme y hacía mucho frío afuera. Les aseguré que estaría bien e incluso me detendría y compraría un sombrero si el clima fuera demasiado duro. Sin embargo, lo saqué y llegué a casa sin congelación, en el frío de 15C (59F). Curiosamente, mis oídos estaban fríos cuando llegué a casa.

El martes por la mañana me desperté con los roqueros con otro dramático amanecer invernal en el Mar de Alborán, nuestro parte del Mar Mediterráneo. Un amanecer más.

Adelante. Haz clic en las imágenes y mira el amanecer conmigo.

.

Alone on the Hill / Solo en la Colina

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

ONE AFTERNOON LAST week, I spent a few hours up on a hill overlooking the city. I thought I’d be able to catch one of our recent spectacular sunsets from up there, so I sat and waited, watching the sun move slowly — oh, so slowly — across the sky. The spectacular sunset didn’t materialize. So I finally headed back down before darkness set in. For company at the top, I had music on my iPhone, an old stone tower, and the Osborne bull, a 14-metre (46 ft) high, silhouetted bull, which began in 1956 as roadside advertising for the Osborne sherry company until 1994, when a law was passed banning roadside advertising of alcoholic beverages. By that time, the bull silhouette had become such a recognizable symbol of Spain that bigger bulls were installed without the advertising. There are 23 of these bulls in Andalucía alone and around 90 total in all of Spain. They’re not all defaced by graffiti.

.

UNA TARDE DE la semana pasada, pasé unas horas en una colina con vistas a la ciudad. Pensé que sería capaz de ver una de nuestras recientes puestas de sol espectaculares desde allí, así que me senté y esperé, viendo el sol moverse lentamente, oh, muy lentamente, a través del cielo. La espectacular puesta de sol no se materializó esa noche. Así que finalmente volví a bajar antes de que comenzara la oscuridad. Para compañía en la cima, tenía música en mi iPhone, una vieja torre de piedra, y el toro Osborne, un toro silueteado de 14 metros de altura, que comenzó en 1956 como publicidad en carretera para la empresa de jerez Osborne hasta 1994, cuando se aprobó una ley que prohíbe la publicidad en carretera de bebidas alcohólicas. En ese momento, la silueta del toro se había convertido en un símbolo tan reconocible de España que se instalaron toros más grandes sin la publicidad. Hay 23 de estos toros solo en Andalucía y alrededor de 90 en total en toda España. No todos están desfigurados por el graffiti.

The first step is a doozy! / El primer paso es un ”sueño”.
Finally, the grand sunset. / Finalmente, la gran puesta de sol.

.

Man Buns And Bike Shorts

Another collection of man buns (and other hair-dos), which I love, by the way.

CLICK THE IMAGE FOR FULLER, MORE LUSTROUS HAIR.

Speaking of man buns
While I was on a great walk Wednesday, a bicyclist passed me by. Well, many bicyclists passed me by, but this one screamed for attention. He was wearing padded, white Lycra cycling shorts.

I didn’t find his rear-end at all attractive, but I found it especially less so shining pinkly through his old and worn-out shorts. The image was further enhanced by the broad streak of sweat (I hope it was sweat???) running down the crack of his ass. I was unable to whip out my camera quickly enough to get a photo. So… you’re welcome!

MY MOCK-UP:
MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE. BELIEVE ME!

And another thing I saw on my walk…
AGAIN… YOU’RE WELCOME!

There’s A Hole In The Sky

As most of you know, I live with clinical depression. I do what I can to keep the dark days — and nights — at bay. Medication helps, but needs to be adjusted over time. Without medication, I couldn’t survive. And sometimes I feel like I have to justify that to others.

“Oh, just change your attitude,” they’ll say.

“I just pull myself by my bootstraps and put a smile on my face,” some tell me.

“Just spend more time at the gym.”

Sorry, it doesn’t work that way. Attitude helps. A smile helps. Exercise helps. But they don’t cure clinical depression.

With the help of San Geraldo, I manage to keep the worst bouts from returning, simply by being aware and getting help when I/we see the patterns returning. What returns are the voices in my head. They tell me I’m not good enough (for what, I don’t know). I’m not handsome enough (for my life as a fashion model?), I’m not smart enough, kind enough, rich enough, confident enough, talented enough, humble enough.

On my good days, none of that even matters.

On my bad days, I’m simply not enough.

Lately, I’m not finding myself interesting enough, which explains my recent dearth of blog posts.

But, finally, rather than trying vainly to be enough for you (OK, for myself), I figured it was time to just tell you what’s been going on in my head.

The walks have helped. Usually about 11 km (8 miles) in 2-1/2 to 3 hours, with a day off between. Monday, it’s back to the gym. Really. No excuses.

This is what I saw on the walk home Friday…

And I wanna fly, too…