Mallorca and War! (although War could use a whole section on its own.)

Got back yesterday from Mallorca and it was absolutely beautiful. I left the country and it was cold and spent the week in the sunny Baleric Islands (part of Spain.. where Ibiza is). It wasn't that warm, but the last two days were nice enough to lay out and relax at the beach. We went shopping, walked around Palma, the capital and took a train ride to Soller and visited the small town of Valldemosa. Absolutely beautiful. I want to go back again some day and maybe party it up. All that were around were old German people and a lot of German speaking cyclers training for some bike marathon or something. Some 20 year old Austrian bloke just came up to us and started chatting with us. Me and Joy got hit on at the beach by some 15 year old Spanish blokes asking if we were going to 'fiesta' that night. But being the old fogies that we are we watched a bunch of German TV and tried to decipher the news in French, Spanish and German ( I swear it seems like the island isn't even Spanish!) and went to bed early.

It's crazy to imagine that I was laying at the beach and there was a war going on about 2,000 miles to my East.. scary. Felt a bit guilty about the fact that I was safe and sound and at the beach while people were being blitzed and hurt and killed. I could go on and on about how I feel about this war, but after having talked about it with my dad (mr. devil's advocate himself.. frustrating man that he is) and having a discussion with a pro-war ex-spopper of mine this morning, I don't really want to. I don't believe in it and everything I read in the newspaper makes me sadder and sadder at the state of our world and the American government. There seems to hardly be any humanity left in this world..