Fortune, the gods, and Spanish crushes.

And then . . . a new car!
Well, newish. White and sporty at that.
I pick her up today. She shall be named sometime soon. The last was called Silver. Hi ho and away. I have bequeathed Silver to my brother who will perform some sort of man's business on it, and resell it for a tidy profit.

Anyhow, what with the scholarship and the car, and managing Christmas without too much moroseness and no family arguments at all, I am growing a little anxious.
You know - it's all just going a bit too well to be comfortable.

There have been times in my life where it's been too easy to believe that the gods are gaming with me - 'HA, lets see what she does if we throw this at her!' Looking at misfortune like this gives a sense of perspective, fulfills hero fantasies and gives you something to rail against, to shake your fist at so to speak.
It's not illogical then, is it, when experiencing a run of good fortune, to be suspicious.
What are they planning?
Did someone hear a snicker just then?
I thought I heard a snicker.

In other news, I went to see 'Vicky Christina Barcelona' last week, and what was with that annoying Voice Over? I really would have preferred to gaze at Javier Bardem uninterrupted, thankyou v. much. In fact I could have done without the rest of the characters, and just watched Penelope Cruz and Bardem wandering the streets of the mucho guapa Barcelona, or painting/cooking/drinking/fighting etc in that covetable house with a fair lashing of sex scenes thrown in for good gratuituos measure.

Call me shallow. No, please, feel free.
They are both being sent to the list, along with Barcelona, the star of the show.