Ramona's Barcelona Diary

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Ramona's Barcelona Diary

by

RD Larson

March 1, 2011 Tuesday

I thought that I would begin a diary. I haven't kept a diary since I was a young girl. I will just put down random thoughts as I ready myself for the biggest adventure in my life. I am getting ready to go Spain to live. There is nothing for me here. My parents are both dead and my sister and I have always been at odds. We're never going to be close. Not ever. I envy those women who say their sisters are their best friends. I have sold or given away many of my possessions. Funny how you realize that your “things” are really worthless. My hutch from long ago when my mother and father down-sized and gave it to me. I kept my beautiful china set in it for all these years. I certainly won't need it in Spain. I don't plan to have any friends and will eat out for most of my meals.

March 2, 2011 Wednesday

Today I went to the health department and got shots. Nothing too painful. Barcelona is a relatively safe city to live. I gave away my beautiful queen-size bed to a college girl today. She will come with her boyfriend to get it on Saturday. Sleeping around is so simple these days. I wonder how girls just get so devoted without any commitment from the boys. Well, it isn't my place to say what she does with the bed. Or doesn't do. I gave her the beautiful quilt that Joan made me so many years ago. The years before she died she sewed constantly, going even to quilt shows. I think she just missed Dave when he died. He fell over in their garden with a stroke one day. Three days later he died in the hospital. She never admitted she loved him or even missed him. I didn't like him anyway. I missed her when she died three years ago. Anyway the quilt is berry, forest green and gold. I hope the girl keeps her boyfriend's muddy feet off of it. I took good care of it.

March 3, 2011Thursday

The shots have made me sick. I have been lying around the house in my bathrobe. I even opened a can of chicken soup. I must feel very sick before I eat that crap. Do you, Diary, have any idea how much junk is in a can of that stuff? Chicken feet and too much salt. I've given that up and having lemon aid and vodka now. I am feeling much better. You know what, Diary, I feel like you are a silent person, just listening to me in a way that no one else ever has. It is a good feeling. Rather like when I was a child and had an imaginary friend. I suppose the religious would call you the God Diary. I don't believe in fantasies. I am a realist and a fatalist. So there, Diary. Or Diary God.

March 4, 2011 Friday

Still feeling punk. I took a couple of pain pills and a jigger of whiskey. I am going to guess I will be better shortly. I have a lot to do before I leave on April 1st. I don't drink much really. A glass or two with my dinner; whiskey or brandy if I have a cold. I don't dare drink. My father drank. Anyway, Diary, I am confessing to you that I do like wine. Remember when people who drank wine were called winos? Ha. Now they are connoisseurs. I've got this cold and I am going to sleep it off. I still have a lot of time to do what I have to do to get read to move my life to Spain.