You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

-Mary Oliver

Sunday, 19 October 2008

The spirit is joyful; the flesh is weak

I've been popping ibuprofen like it's my job. For the past week, my bottom and top left wisdom teeth have been slowly and painfully pushing through the surface of my gums, and finally on Thursday I caved and went to the pharmacy where they gave me some extra-strength magic in pill form. Turns out that drugs actually work! Now my teeth just have to stop growing.

Dear Teeth,
Please stop growing. You're hurting me.
Love,
Isabel

Dear Teething Babies,
Oh my God, I know.
Love,
Isabel

Also, I'm getting a cold. The price one pays for staying out at Bombar til 4am two nights running. But I'm taking care of myself, and other people are taking care of me, too, and really if the worst thing that I have to report is a runny nose and sore gums, I'm still in pretty decent shape.

And I am. Creation has been very different this week with only four of us, and we're still not quite sure where we're headed or how we're going to get there. But I'm not too concerned... really I'm just enjoying the ride. It almost feels like I'm treating this time in Portugal as a holiday of sorts, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

This week, Diogo performed for a competition of local artists and won the grand prize of 500euro. We're all very proud. There was much shrieking and jumping up and down (well, actually that was just me. The Portuguese aren't much for shrieking, and Martha and Aram are both slightly lower-key than I). And whenever they actually give him the money (apparently it could take up to 90 days), drinks are on him.

I just have to get over this cold first.

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