Catchup

Highlight of my trip to Lisbon with my parents:

Walking down a wee little staircase in the Alfama, I turned around to warn them to be careful. "These steps are slippery," I noted, and promptly fell on my ass.

They were very considerate, and made fun of me for the rest of the trip.

*****

Now the parents have come and gone. They left yesterday morning on an uber-early flight, and I pretty much slept until ten and spent the first three hours of my day doing nothing but paperwork before going into work. To do... more paperwork!

The parents' departure is always bittersweet. In some ways, I was ready for them to leave; as awful as that may sound, it's not: I have work to do and exams to study for, and that's not so easy when mom and dad are offering to feed me M&M's and do crosswords instead. I had a lot of things that fall in the "responsibility" compartment of my brain that were pushed to the wayside (rather successfully, I might add) while they were here.

Also, it's a bit tricky to play hostess at this point. They know the Paris well enough to not want to visit the Eiffel Tower or the Mus�e d'Orsay. I'd honestly prefer to avoid them myself. Yet, they don't feel quite right about going to the movies or just sitting around a caf� for four hours, which are my favorite ways to relax around town. So there's a delicate balance to be found - somewhere - between being a succesful tourist while still doing things that don't bore them to tears.

Not always easy. It's easier in Portugal, of course, where you can rent a car and drive down the coast. Or you can wander the streets of Lisbon. Or you can fall down the stairs. That's entertainment, right there.

But when it comes to actually saying goodbye, I'd be lying if I didn't get a little teary eyed. I make fun of my mom for tearing up (jokingly, of course) but I do it myself sometimes, too. They're great people - funny and fun to be with. Besides some notable bumps in the road, we got along swimmingly as usual. They leave a sort of gaping hole in my life once they're gone, which it takes 24-48 hours getting used to.

I'm now on hour 26. The realization of just exactly how much work I had been neglecting hit home yesterday, and I had a mini panic-attack around noon. I haven't seen any of my friends for 10 days, and I'm having a hard time getting back in the social circuit. W eird how that happens.

In the meantime, I'm playing catch up for at least another three days.