Still Treading the Icy Waters of Cascais

 

...  and dreading the day I have to leave.  Although leaving my current apartment … yeah.  I’m ready to do that.  All the free beer and snacks in the world won’t make up for dealing with that smell.  And the bump on my head still hurts.

I arranged for a new place early in the week.  Because I like the area, I looked for a place nearby.  It was so nearby, in fact, that I walked my way-too-much stuff across a few streets and arrived at the new place in about 15 minutes.

This was another nice place.  I love the layout.  A decent sized bedroom for Europe with one of two balconies off it.  The other balcony was off the living room but couldn’t be opened because the handle had broken off. It could use a microwave, some A/C or at least a fan in the bedroom, and a clothesline but otherwise it was a spacious place to squat for a week.  And hey, we’re back to the electric blinds so that’s a plus.

The place was a bit noisy with the screaming kid downstairs and my next-door neighbor who insisted on talking on the phone with her front door open (why?). The decorations in front of her apartment let me know that they do celebrate Halloween in Portugal.  I always thought of it as an American/Irish holiday, but there was a shop selling spooky stuff in Cascais so there you go.

The job search continues and is still pretty demoralizing.  I’m either highly underqualified for everything or the job requires me to live in the states.  It’s getting cooler here in Portugal and I’m starting to consider my next move for the end of November when my Schengen days run out.  Kinda depressing.  I would have loved to be in my new place come winter, but that ain’t happening without a bank account and I can’t get a bank account without having a job.  Sigh.

In slightly better news, I’m also attempting to jump-start my freelance writing career.  I discovered a site called Medium where writers can post anything they like.  After getting 100 followers, writers can put their work behind a paywall and actually get paid.  Not only that, but I can use those articles (along with this blog) as an online portfolio to show potential clients.  I have no idea how this will go, but it’s a start and gives me motivation to write more consistently.

I’ve completed a course on SEO (search engine optimization) on Coursera.  My next course will be the Google Data Analytics Certification.  Data analysis is supposed to be the next big thing so I figured I’d give it a try.  Ideally, I could get an analyst job while still working on the freelancing and try to get those multiple streams of income I’ve been hearing so much about.

And a blast from the past.  I was sitting at my computer and my phone rang.  Scared the crap out of me.  I picked it up thinking it was my stepmom, but … no.  It was Zaza.  I gaped at the phone.  It had been a month since our last text and I could not believe he was calling me.  I declined the call while laughing maniacally.  I just … I don’t even know anymore.

Turns out there’s a name for this behavior too.  In talking about narcissists, this out-of-the blue contact is called hoovering.  The narc has been discarded and is trying to suck the victim back in.  Yeah.  Really not interested.  I wish him no ill will but have no desire to get involved with his problems again.

There’s always something going on in Cascais; weekdays, weekends, doesn’t matter. Mostly, there are pop-up markets selling souvenirs and handy crafts.  There’s also the occasional food truck with tables set out in a parking lot.  On Saturday, while taking my daily walk by the shore, I stumbled across a car show.  Porches as far as the eye could see along with crowds waiting to take pictures of people zooming off for a test drive (I assume they were test drives and not purchases, but it was hard to tell).

I had lunch one day in a café by the sea that I had visited during my last trip to Cascais.  One of the waitresses actually remembered my visit.  Her name was Angelina, and she sparked a conversation about my t-shirt.  I was wearing the one I got from the Hard Rock in Phuket and she mentioned how she’d also been to the island.  I told her how I was scoping Thailand out as a new home and she mirrored my thoughts that it was a nice place to visit but not to live.  I told her about my travels and how, of all the countries I’ve been to, Portugal is where I feel most at home.  She agreed and noted the chill atmosphere of the people.  This woman had never been to the states, yet she still knew what a ‘Karen’ was, saying they don’t get many of those women in Portugal.  It reminded me of Lamin, the Gambian native I met who had also never been to the states yet still knew about the gun violence.

And this is the view other countries have of the U.S.  It’s a wonder the country has any international visitors at all at this point.  With its reputation, visitors traveling to the states must feel like they're dropping into a Mad Max movie.