Ikea + Biblioteca = una Kelsey feliz.

If I can only have two things in life, it might be dreaming of a house with a beautiful kitchen and wonderful bedsheets and couches plus ice cream plus libraries. That is an exaggeration, to be sure (it would really be cereal and ice cream), but since this was my day, after being told to leave my school, and I loved it so much, these things could suffice.

Getting to Ikea here takes an hour, no matter which of the three you choose. I chose one way south and east of the city, the second to last stop of the Line 1 Metro. It's attached to a beautiful mall, which I mostly used for it's aseos (restrooms) and to drool over Zara clothes, shoes, and bags that I can't afford yet (remember: we don't know when I will be paid...). What I'm saying is I passed through the mall relatively quickly once I caught the scent of the Ikea (read: Swedish meatballs and 25 cent ice cream cones).

I obviously went to the "last stop" in the big Ikea circle first, the cafetería, to buy a 25 cent ice cream (I mean, they are on sale right now... can't miss a special like that!) and a 1 Euro soda cup that I was allowed to refill as much as I wanted. I had about 3 before I took off into the beautiful fake homes they've created to make me feel bad about my mediocre income and lack of geographic stability. I pretended they all were my kitchen, bathroom, living room, or bedroom, though all I actually needed were bedroom things. I bought a comforter for 3 Euros (probably won't be warm, but I am thinking winter can't be that bad in Madrid for a Mainer trained in Minnesota, right?), a pillow, a comforter cover, and some really cheap hangers to get my dresses off of the belt they are currently wrapped around in my closet.

I wandered and wandered and dreamed of what I might do if I actually were to live somewhere, coming to the conclusion that that is such an indefinite goal and possibility that I should give it up. I had stashed my cup in my shopping bag, so I went back to the cafeteria and filled the cup with two espressos (one caffeinated, the other not, as I tend to do) to enjoy while I played Solitaire on my phone. That game pretty much sums up life when you first move to a city, so I used it to pretend to look busy for a while before paying 15 euros for all my things. They don't take cash, which was weird, but luckily my USA card went through, thank you TD Bank!

I returned to the city and found the closest public library, one that falls outside of the "municipal" system to which I already have a card. I got to get a new card! I checked out 3 books, brought all my finds home, and left the house again for what I'm realizing is a vital plan for daily success here. If I stay home between 6pm and 9pm I will inevitably eat earlier than I should. If I go out for a walk I will stay busy and be unable to eat until I return. It works great! I met up with Anne and Sofia from Carleton and we walked into the center before I slogged my way home to eat with my roommates.

Dinner conversation: strikes in Spain, pronouncing movie names like Shrek, how my famous crush is Fernando Torres and my secondary is the rest of the Spanish national team (Manuel's is the woman who does the weather on the news and some other girl I don't know, he brought this up), and how my dinner of carrots/bread/cheese really isn't that weird, but the middle of the USA where there is only corn and no mountains or ocean is pretty lame.