"Me gustaría inventar un país contigo"

It's spring break. I was excited to leave because I very much missed home. I felt like a lot was missing at school. But then I got here and realized that this really isn't my home, not completely. Madrid is still 1/3 of the fantastical, nonexistent place I call home. How can I be in one of my three homes without pining for the other two? Wherever I am, 2/3 of my home are missing. Before, it was only 1/2... I'm not math major but 2/3 is more than 1/2, ergo 1/6 more languishing. Vaya mierda de situación! I'm moving to Madrid.


"Que recordarás
las tardes de invierno por Madrid
las noches enteras sin dormir"

"An artist can do anything slovenly."

PHOTOS POSTED. The link is in the right menu under "What does this all look like?"

My semester abroad is over. I am home. I eat cereal for breakfast, sometimes I skip lunch, dinner is always before 8pm; I drive anywhere I need or want to go; I watch TV; sometimes I wear a t-shirt and jeans; my hair requires daily washing once again; my Spanish is no longer required. It's not the same at all and I'm sad. I am home, and home is good. I couldn't possibly begin to describe how this feels; unless I call it culture shock, that's a tiny beginning, but there is so much more to it. I'm looking at my credit card statement online and even though I have only 1/3 of the money I need to pay it off, it makes me happy because it shows I was in Madrid, Salamanca, Rome, Venice, and Milan in the last month. It's weird because I know I've been gone for 4 months, I've seen and done so many things, I'm beginning to see that I've changed, so I expected everything at home to feel so different and unsatisfying but it's not. I can tell that I'm the one that is different and unsatisfied. I'm the stranger that has come in and disrupted things, not that I feel unwelcome or unloved, but that I'm the only one who sees that maybe I don't belong. I don't expect any more than what I'm getting from number 51 and the family inside. I think I want more, though. I don't know, I'm thoroughly enjoying being home and I wish winter break would last a little bit longer. I'm excited to go back to school and see everyone and get back into rugby and take some cool classes, but it feels like this whole school and home thing is just something I'm doing until I go back to Madrid, whenever that will be.

Instead of droning on about feelings, ick, I'll recount my last few European adventures. December 14th, we (API kids and Sara my wonderful Spanish roommate) went to La Casa de las Cervezas and had a wonderful time dancing and hugging and professing how much we'd miss each other. Then we had planned to go to Kapital, but that change to a club called Palacio, but on our way everyone but Gisella, Sara and I changed their mind and went to Dubliners (LAME!). The 3 of us continued on to Palacio, which is a 2 or 3 floor club that looks like, who'd've guessed!, a palace. We must've gotten there around 3am, because it didn't feel like we had been there too long when we left at 6am. Sara's loveliness got us invited into a little VIP sitting area (you can rent these areas and then the club gives you a huge bottle of Bacardi, a bunch of cokes, and a bunch of glasses). We sat there for a bit conversing with these guys, then Sara told them Gisella and I were going back to the States, and they made us stand up and drink to our health in travel. The 3 of us went to dance for a little bit and then we walked home.

I woke up the next morning at 11 (I must be unable to sleep past that time) and began packing, because it was Friday and everything had to be taken to the Puertos later. Somehow I got it done. All I had was the Eurohike daypack packed with the things I was taking to Italy. That night was the residencia's "typical Spanish" Christmas dinner. The kitchen and sitting area had been closed since lunch that day, unusual, and when it was time Sara and I went down and realized everyone was very dressed up... more than usual. Luckily, I had packed my nice clothes away and sent them to the Puertos, so I made due with a top that is nice when paired correctly with nice bottoms, jeans, and a hoodie jacket. I felt very out of place, but it's not like no one knew I was American already. We walked in and all the tables had been pushed to the walls and covered with tapas and Fanta, you can't get much more Spanish than that unless you have sangria. Then I saw that Isabel, the lady in charge, was walking around with a big pitcher of homemade sangria. She saw us and said, "Ah! Las americanas! Ven aquí. Esta noche bebes sangria, mañana pierdes al avión." Tonight you drink sangria, tomorrow you miss your flight. She was very intent on filling our glasses every chance she got. There were about 10 Americans in the residencia and we all were leaving the next day, so it felt sort of like a going-away party was mixed in there too. The food was delicioso, and we found out the dressed up Spaniards were not actually going anywhere after this but that this was a party and everyone was getting drunk slowly (including the ladies who make our beds and cook our food) and would be up and about for hours. I had a flight to Rome to get to the airport for at 5am, so I had to go to bed rather early. I said Goodbye to Gisella and Ginger before going to bed, Sara had left for a university dinner so we had done our goodbyes even though she said she'd see me before she came back in time. I woke up and got out at 5am, a lot of people were still awake and staggering around the residencia. I caught a taxi to the airport, and he got me there quicker than normal and it cost my €5 less than normal too. I think because I told him my story and he thought I was pretty cool for leaving home to live in Spain for 4 months and that I was off to Italy before I headed home. I checked in and took one last look at my favorite Terminal in Barajas, Terminal 4, and I was off to Rome.

The flight was rather miserable, and understandably so considering I was pretty sleep deprived and the guy next to me seemed to think my chair reclining button was actually his chair reclining button. I took a train from the airport to the train station in Rome 2 blocks from the hostel, I dropped my stuff off and went for a walk. I walked pretty far, saw the Colosseum, the Forum, and some other things. I forced myself to get some lunch when I was finally a few minutes from the hostel and rather hungry. For some reason, I have the worst time getting myself into little places to eat when I'm alone in a foreign country and I don't speak the language. When I went back to the hostel, Laura had just arrived and we still had 2 hours before we could check in at 3pm. I was dying but we walked for a bit, and on the way back saw some ceremony with the Italian army and a band. We have no idea what went on but it all seemed like a lot of show, something we're kind of glad the U.S. doesn't do. We took a nap, went out to dinner, and walked around again. We saw the Spanish steps and the Trevi Fountain in daylight and night light, we ate gelatto, and we tried to remember scenes from Roman Holiday. Molly was supposed to get in at 1am that night, so we went to our room and stayed awake til she got in and we could be sure she was safe.

Sunday we decided to get up and go to St. Peter's Square just outside the Vatican. We went: Molly jewish, Laura nothing, me unitarian universalist. There was a big to-do in the square probably because it was about a week before Christmas. We got in line for St. Peter's Basilica and when we were about to go in, we saw that everyone was looking up in one direction and someone was talking. We asked and found out the pope had come to his papal window and was giving some address to the people. As we couldn't see the papal window from the entrance to the basilica, we left and went where we could see. He read in maybe 8 or 9 languages, basically thanking us for coming, blessing us, and wishing us a blessed Christmas. How nice of him to bless us. We felt a tiny bit guilty being there so we went to the papal gift shop. After making a few jokes in there about the postcards, stamps, erasers, magnets and things, we decided we 3 are going to hell and we left to look for lunch. After lunch we walked by the river to the Bocca della Veritas, from a scene in Roman Holiday, then we walked around towards the Colosseum. After that we went to the Pantheon to see the perfect semi spherical dome, and then to the street where Gucci, Prada, Fendi, Salvatore Ferragamo, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, and other such names had stores. Qué lujo. After that we hurried back to the hostel, collected our bags, and went to the train station where we caught a train for Venice. The ride was about 4 hours long, and then we had to take the vaporetto (the boat-metro) to where our hostel was. By this time it was about midnight or 1am, and we got a little lost. There were about 4 people on the streets, and 1 or 2 open restaurants. Some man noticed us and knew we were lost and offered to help... in Italian. I and my Spanish skills came to the rescue, sort of, and he showed us the way, unfortunately we got lost again, but then found ourselves and realized he was right and we had just missed it. The hostel was practically like a hotel, very nice indeed. We went to bed worn out.

We woke up Monday morning to pouring rain and frigid cold. It was a bit late for breakfast so we headed towards St. Mark's Square and found lunch around there. Venice is considerably more expensive than Rome which is more expensive than Madrid. After lunch we tried to do something but we couldn't figure out what so we went back towards the hostel but not before stopping in a grocery store. We bought Limoncello, an Italian liquor, for that night whatever we decided to do. We read through some tourist books and decided to tour the Doge's palace, also in St. Mark's Square. It was pretty cool, and the power went out in the middle, which is kind of a cool experience except it got cold. But it came back on before we got to the prison, thank goodness or it would have been dark and scary instead of just scary. We went back to the hostel and sat a bit before going to dinner across the grand canal in a wonderful local restaurant where no one spoke English and I once again used my Spanish and got the general message across. The food was delicious and pretty cheap. It had stopped raining so we walked around the city, which was completely asleep for the night. No one was out, nothing was open, no noise, no bright lights, just Venice. Amazing experience.

The next day it was not raining, so we got on the vaporetto and took it down and back the grand canal to see Venice from the water. Gorgeous, lovely, wonderful, indescribable. Perfect time of year to go because it's just Venice and the Venetians, no tourists; and there's nothing to see that can't be seen in the middle of winter. We got some lunch and did some Christmas shopping, I finished my Christmas shopping in Venice. We did some more exploring around the city and got dinner at another delicious, inexpensive, out of the way place. We went to bed and watched some bad American Christmas movie I've never heard of and don't remember that had been dubbed into Italian. The next day, Laura and I were headed for Milan, and Molly for Rome to meet up with her Mom to do some travelling.

Laura and I got to the train station the next morning, and she knew what train we needed to take to get there around 10am to have some time to walk around the city before we had to go to the airport to fly back to London and Madrid. We went to buy the ticket, and the guy was incredibly unhelpful, gave us very confusing and I think wrong information. Long story short we had to get off the first train, catch a train back to Venice's station, and get on another train which would arrive in Milan at 1pm. I had to be at the airport at 3:30. GREAT. On the train, we had our own compartment, like in Harry Potter. I watched out the window pretty much the whole time. The Swiss Alps were always in the near distance of the landscape I took in. I saw the Swiss Alps. They don't come out well in pictures. I hate that. In Milan we walked to a restaurant, ate lunch, and then took a bus to the airport. We were an hour early so we had to wait to check in. When we finally checked in and got to the waiting area, it was an absolute mess. I had no idea where exactly we were supposed to be waiting, I was waiting with about 3 other flights of people to other European countries who were also confused. My flight was an hour late, but I got into Madrid at about 9pm. Rita Puerto was there waiting for me, and we took a taxi back to their piso. Rita, Marta, Lucía, and I went out to dinner. It was the end of classes for a bunch of the universities so it took a bit to find a place not inundated with hoards of these loud Spanish kids. We ate, and Ana came from work in time to join us for dessert. We got back and discussed what time I had to be at the airport, and what time everyone had to get up. They also said they had a present for me. They gave me a pair of very cool red gloves with a pair of red earrings to match, and a gift basket of lotions and washes made at the Farmacia Puerto for the girls in my family.

Everyone was going to get up at 7am on Wednesday December 21st. I slept in Marta's room on her trundle bed... and we actually woke up an hour late, nothing new to me though. I showered and as I was eating and getting my stuff together, one by one the girls all left for classes and I said goodbye. Rafa and Rita drove me to the airport. I answered some questions about a possible intent to kill the president (who says yes to that question?!) then Rafa and Rita saw me off just before the security area in Barajas. Rita made me lunch. A ham sandwich, a cheese sandwich, 2 granola bars, an apple, and a Kit Kat. Yum. All I had to do was buy water. I sat in the waiting area, trying desperately to fix my iPod which gave out on me after playing 2 songs. I wasn't as worried though because I fully expected the seats to have personal TVs in the headrest with on-demand movies like on the night flight on the way to Madrid. NOPE! For some reason, it seemed smarter to give people the option of movies and tv shows while they should be sleeping on the way to a country where they will lose time, rather than on the way to a country in the middle of the day where they will gain time. They showed Pirates of the Caribbean 2 and some football movie. I wanted to nap but I couldn't sleep. The lady next to me was Spanish. There was a 1 yr old girl in front of me who seemed very interested in us, and a 2 yr old girl in front of us and in the middle column of seats who was also very interested in us. So I was entertained. The 2 yr old's mom was American, dad French, and they lived in Madrid. She knew English and Spanish, and understood French. This kid is my role model. She gave me Santa Claus sticker, and knew to speak to me in English and the lady next to me in Spanish for the most part, but she switched off which was okay because we both are bilingual. In Philly, I had to claim my bags and go through customs then recheck them. Somehow the roughly 8 other students abroad on the flight gathered near where I was standing and we discussed the riskiness of having alcohol in our bags, being under 21. Customs accepted "clothes and christmas presents worth roughly $800" as an acceptable declaration of goods, so none of us got busted. I rechecked my bags, and went through security.

This is the part where my self-esteem shoots through the roof: Philadelphia's airport is filled with Americans for the most part, not Spaniards. I was not grotesquely overweight compared to EVERYONE ELSE, I was average maybe even on the thinner side; I was not less fashionably dressed compared to EVERYONE ELSE, I was way better dressed; I was not trying and failing to be a Spaniard, I called my friend Kelly and left a message in Spanish with an extremely convincing accent to the ears of the ENGLISH SPEAKERS all around me. It was dinner time in the U.S. and bed time in Madrid, but I was wide awake and quite full because I was coming from Spain, and everyone else waiting for my flight was simply flying domestic. I felt cool and different and interesting. On the 17 minute flight, I whipped out my Spanish Cosmo and thoroughly confused the businessman sitting next to me who was annoyed at the mere 25 minute delay in take off. We taxied longer than we were in the air, but I've been in worse situations in Madrid. And I've lived in Madrid. I did it. I made it through 4 months in a foreign country, a foreign culture, a foreign language, with foreign/new friends, foreign clothes, foreign attitudes, foreign apetites. Am I not allowed to say that I'm just a little bit Spanish now? I'm back in my home country, and I am a full-blooded mutt of an American of the United States persuasion, but I do think a little Spanish flavor has been added to the concoction of nationalities. Not Spanish through inheritance, but direct cultural infusion. And if there are no genetic races, who's to say I'm not part Spanish?

"You have delighted us long enough."

I updated my photos. They're at the link on the right that says "What does all this look like?" And I updated the link because I hadn't realized til recently it was still showing the old one.

Not too much has gone on, just living as much as I can while I'm still here. I finished my exams Tuesday. I know I passed all of them, and I'm pretty sure I have a B in all the classes except Translation in which there is a good chance I have an A. And I got my 10-page (mine was 8-page) Spanish culture paper back yesterday. I don't remember if I ever said anything about my satisfaction with my work... but I truly felt that using that paper to wipe my bum would have been a more useful reason for its existence. I got a B. Haha. Who knew?! The paper really deserved a C, any honest English professor would have given it a C-/D+. I'd like to know what would have happened if I had taken the time to write it, expanded on the one paragraph that concerned the culture part, re-read it, accurately cited my sources, etc. He probably would have made me president because a B for the piece of crap I handed in is just insane.

Anyway, I've been wandering about Madrid a lot lately, visited Retiro for a while to people-watch, Christmas shopping and such. I blend into the packed streets of holiday shoppers quite well. Shopping is a universally performed task, it speaks all languages. And I suppose the fact that we're all bundled up makes us appear less different. I mean, my coat is from Zara, THE Spanish clothing store. Except the bottom button got really loose and was starting to come off, so I "mended" it but now it's even looser except that it's not going to fall off anytime soon. Two of my four pair of jeans (the only pants I wear) have holes on the inner thighs. I mended one pair... pretty darn well if I do say so myself. (Get it? "darn"!) I've been looking for a new pair of jeans around here, but they do not make them for American girls. They come in my size, of course, but the waist is SO low and my bum is not that big so I don't understand why the waist needs to be that low. It just comes to the crack. That is ridiculous. These Spanish females have some pretty insane body builds, that's all I gotta say. Sara was nice enough to pretend we'd ever be the same size and offered to let me borrow a shirt. I pointed out I'd probably not fit even if just for the chestal region, and she said that I'd then just have a big escote (cleavage) and I could cover it up with a scarf. Then I mentioned how her shirt would be stretched out and she said never mind then. She's a sweet girl.

On Thursday night, a couple of the girls at school who share an apartment threw a Christmas party. Everyone from Suffolk was invited and we were supposed to dress up. We weren't there for too long because we were starting to bother the land-lady, but it was really fun to have everyone together and it not be cliquey like some other schools I know (cough, DULANEY, cough). After we all went to this club called Chesterfield's which I had avoided like the plague because all the fliers they send out are pictures of American kids looking like drunk American kids: oh yeahhhh let's go there while I'm in Madrid!! But it turned out to be not too bad, and about half Spanish kids. It was pretty fun, but I left a little early because I tried to wear high heels again and my toe still feels bruised, plus I felt sickish.

On Friday I went to a Mexican restaurant with Gisella, Kacie, and Stacy because we heard about it from some people at school. It was so very good. I got a pina colada, and they put cinnamon on top! I wasn't a huge fan of the cinnamon, and the drink was at least half rum so I could barely taste the pineapple coconut party. I don't think I've ever mentioned that if you go to a bar and order a vodka and fanta limón, for example, it's always half (and very often more) vodka and then limón. So the drinks are about €7-€8. BUT, in the U.S. it's at most a quarter of the alcohol and the drinks are about $3-$4. Then we met another friend Alejandro and went to this little bar that played rock music like The Doors and Jimi Hendrix, and had posters up on Pink Floyd, Bob Marley, The Beatles, etc. It was cool, except when it started to get crowded we realized everyone but us was in their late 20s - early 30s. I left because I was rather drained, and I again felt a little sickish.

The rest of the weekend, I went out and explored during the day and at night sort of rested because I did, in fact, get a cold. The cold is just now going away. A ton of other girls on my floor got colds or bad sicknesses, so I suppose I got off easy. I finished my exams and yesterday I went Christmas shopping. I'm just about finished. I have to get a few more things which I'm having difficulty finding, but that's it. Let's hope it all fits. After Christmas shopping, I went to TGI Fridays with about 5 other people for Happy Hour. Yeah, I know, one of my last few days in Europe and I go to TGI Fridays. Well let me tell you about Happy Hour: the drinks were half price, so I got this big huge drink (which was already kinda cheap at €6) for €3. The smaller drinks went down from €4 to €2. I tried some new drinks yesterday, it was really fun. After that we tried to go to Chesterfield's to meet up with other people, and it's supposed to be girls get in free before 1am, but they told us it was €10 to get in. Gisella and I flat out refused and walked away, but our other friends went in. I've been there and it is not worth even €5.

Tonight we plan to go to Kapital all night for our last hurrah. Tomorrow I have to pack and take my stuff to the Puertos so that I can leave for Italy Saturday morning at 5am. So that means that this will almost definitely be my last post in Europe. How incredibly sad. But I won't think about that today, I'll think about it tomorrow. Today, I'll pretend like it's not my last. I can't wait to come home and see everyone!

Vale, venga. Hasta luego, tío.

It's quarter to 4 in the morning on a Friday night. The Spaniards drunkenly passing through outside my residencia window are singing... loudly. I think it's a Spanish Christmas song because they all got really into it, especially the females. And this is completely acceptable. What will I do in the quiet and boring old United States?

Si nunca ha ido a España, le falta algo; si ha ido de España, le falta algo.

"Single women have a dreadful propensity for being poor. Which is one very strong argument in favor of matrimony."

This past weekend I went to Salamanca and Segovia with API. We left Friday afternoon on a bus and about 3 hours later we were in Salamanca. It's a college town! How great is that?! The University of Salamanca joins the ranks of Oxford, Cambridge, and the Sorbonne in Europe... according to the Spanish tour guide. It's one of the oldest in Europe, and the oldest in Spain. It was founded in 1218 by King Alfonso IX, then reorganized in 1254 by Alfonso X, not 200 years after Normans invaded England in 1066. It has something like 80,000 students. So during the day the town is rather peaceful and calm; but at night, if you can't find something to do, then you are both completely blind and completely deaf. Having said that, we stayed two nights and I did not go out at all. Leave it to me to accomplish such a feat.

Friday night, I ate a delicious dinner at an Italian restaurant with Laura, Gisella, Ginger, Stacy, Kacie, and Alejandro. After dinner we went to some packed bar, but Laura and I shortly left because we weren't in the going out mood (and I'm poor). She and I went back to our room, because we're always hotel roommates on these trips, and watched a little TV before going to bed because we had to get up kinda early for our tour the next morning.

The tour, as tired as I am of them, was quite nice. I like the little bits of info they share with us. Like the professors wore their professor robes with a colored piece on their chests which represented their field, the room they taught in had/has inscription in front of it with the subject and the same colored background, so they students knew where to go for class. Yellow for medicine, green for political science or whatever juris civili means in Latin, and BLUE FOR LANGUAGE aka "linguis". I took a picture of the blue sign. It has a little description underneath, which I believe says the languages taught, and then something probably about knowledge:

LINGUIS
Hebraicae, Chaldaicae, Arabicae,
Graecae, ut omnis pateat ad
sapientian aditus, Senatus
publicum ludum statuit.

On the elaborate sculpture decoration of one of the entrance doors, there is a skull with a tiny frog on it. Although the professors meant that as a warning to students of the evils of women to their studies, the students changed it that if you found a frog/woman you'd be sure to pass your exams. This is because the frog is soooo tiny and hard to spot on the wall filled in sculptures and decorations. So the frog in Salamanca, is a sign of luck. I wonder if "salamanca", then, has anything to do with "salamander". Anyway, the school seemed pretty gosh-darn amazing, and I really wished I had chosen that API program rather than Madrid. But no, because Madrid has the Puertos and an airport, and that's enough to say that I would not have done it differently.

After the tour, Laura and I took a nap and then went out in search of food. We ate at a bar-café, and wandered around through the Plaza Mayor/University area for a while. We bought some wine and cheese for that night because we decided not to go out again but to stay in with wine and cheese. We went back to our room, had quite a long chat about our pasts, presents, and futures, then went out in search of dinner food. I bought pomegranates and apples for dinner because I was still really full from lunch. Gisella and Ginger came over and we had our wine, cheese, and some of their bread things with herb cream cheese (a thoroughly un-Spanish selection of food), and watched the Eurovision Kid's Song Contest on TV, which was ridiculously hilarious. Russia won, that's all I know.

Sunday we had to get up early to go to Segovia for a little tour. I'd already been to Segovia so I fully planned on skipping the tour and giving Laura and whoever else wanted my own tour, and then having more time to eat. The bus was something like 2 hours late to pick us up, when we got there it was raining, and we still had to leave Segovia at the same appointed time. So Laura and I went off on our own and I showed her the important things and we ate some pasta and then I stopped at a panadería (bakery) for a bit of chocolate. We ended up with an hour left so we sat in the tourist office and waited. The tour group took almost the entire time leaving everyone with 45 minutes to eat, and they were soaked. Laura thanked me all the more for my tour. When I got back I was greeted with a large box, full of 4 tins of cookies from Mommy dearest. LOVELY! So I ate and watched a movie and did some mending on my pants and coat which were coming apart.

Yesterday, Monday, I went with Ginger to the Mercado Navideño, Christmas Market, in Plaza Mayor. I was hoping to see a bunch of different things, but it was the same 3 kinds of stand repeated. There were stands devoted ENTIRELY to Nativity scenes, I've never seen such things: animated Jesus the carpenters, breadmakers, every animal imaginable, palm trees, different mangers, etc. There were stands with bunches of Christmas junky decorations: lights, little signs, moss?, hanging things, ornaments, ribbon, etc. And then there were the joke shop stands with the masks, fake blood, whoopie cushions, trick water fawcets, face paint, costumes, etc. Ginger and I were QUITE thrown off by these. I found out later that December 28th is their sort of April Fools Day, día de los Santos Inocentes. Only they get a little more into it than we do on April Fools. Puerta del Sol and the streets leading up to it were all lit up and decorated, I got some photos. We walked back to the residencia because I had asked to meet up with Lucía because 2 of the cookie tins were for the Puertos, and I had to return their books to them, so naturally I needed to freshen up.

I went to their piso at about 8pm, and I won't recount the mass of awkward that is me, but I was finally let in by Lucía and then was greeted by Rita and Ana. I gave them the cookies, and they loved them. They were very happy that Mom had gone so far as to send cookies for them. They'd also never had gingerbread cookies, but they know who the gingerbread man is, la muñequita de jengibre. They asked me all about my trips. And when I told them about my Italy trip (Dec 16-20th) I asked if I could leave my suitcases at their house because I have to be moved out by the 16th, and not only did they readily acquiesce but they offered to take me to the airport for Italy, pick me up from the airport after Italy, and take me to the airport for home (Dec 21st). I said thanks very much, but they wouldn't be taking me to the airport for Italy because my flight is at 6am, so I'll get a taxi. Then Rita wrote down the dates to put on her calendar, and realized there's a day between coming back from Italy and leaving for home, and said I could stay with them. I'm a wretched person and pretended I didn't realize that at all and said thank you, but really had she not offered I would have asked. Rita then said I should stay and they would order some pizza with... HAM and cheese. They really don't lose an opportunity to eat ham in Spain. Anyway we ate and talked a bit, mostly I listened. We talked about differences in cultures and such. It was enlightening. So we finished and said we'd be in touch about dropping my stuff off with them and flights and such.

That's all for now, I'll post photos as soon as I swipe someone's camera to put them on my computer. I have my last class later today. Tomorrow and Friday are national holidays in Spain, so I have nothing to do. Thursday, Monday, and Tuesday I have exams. Other than that I have Madrid to myself to explore before going to Italy.

"Life is far too important a thing to ever talk seriously about"

Not much of anything happened last week. This is my last week of class, so last week I mostly tied myself to a computer to try to get research and such things finished before going to Amsterdam this past weekend.

On Thanksgiving, API put together a dinner for us homesick at the holidays Americans. All day at school and in the residencia us United Statesians just went through the motions and sort of moped around, so at least misery had company. At lunch in the residencia we had a nice long discussion about our different Thanksgiving traditions, and the way we cook the turkey, and things of that nature. I didn't have much hope for the API dinner, especially as the restaurant was called Reina Victoria, obviously a Spanish place. We were all seated at the long and wide table in a separate room for the dinner (at 9pm, by the way) and you could look around and tell that no one was expecting anything Thanksgivingish, and that everyone wanted to go home just for the day. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "If they bring out ham..." They brought out broccoli, then turkey, then gravy, then mashed (sweet?) potatoes, then stuffing, then corn, then more gravy, some more stuffing, more potatoes, more stuffing... They always bring everything out almost as though they're separate courses, so you're expected to be eating from the arrival of the first dish until you're finished. I was full when I finished. I haven't felt such a complete fullness in a long time. You truly can be full of one thing, but have room for another. When they cleared all the plates, I couldn't have eaten anything more... except pumpkin pie. And I did. They brought out pumpkin pie with whipped cream. Our program director, Quique, made it, along with the stuffing and the gravy, amazingly. It was of course not up to par with any of the Thanksgiving food I normally eat, but it far surpassed my expectations and we even went into food comas! Gisella, Ginger, and I decided it was imperative for us to walk home after that.

I had to catch a taxi at 3:30am Friday morning to the airport for my fight at 6am to Amsterdam. Luckily there were about 12 of us going, so I shared with 2 other guys from my residencia. I tried to sleep on the 2 hr flight, but I was most uncomfortable, and managed maybe 45 minutes. We arrived in Amsterdam and, other than feeling like a zombie, I was so excited because the airport was BEDECKED in Christmas decorations! That's what I'm talking about! The day after Thanksgiving begins the Christmas season!!!! (If not sooner.) I was also excited because I fit in (physically, mostly) so much more there than in Madrid. It's ridiculous how un-Spanish I am, truly. Everything was so cute: the crooked little Dutch streets with the leaning Dutch houses, the little old Dutch ladies, the gratuitous amount of Dutch bicycles, the Dutch language, and, let's be serious, a lot of the Dutch guys (far surpassing the amount of guys in Madrid). They all speak English. I think they have to learn it from a really early age, because literally the people working at McDonald's knew it.

Courtney and I weren't able to get a hostel before going, so we booked one at the tourism office at the train/bus/metro station. We dropped our stuff off at the hostel and went back out to meet Katy and Rob. Here's where the drugs come in (I promise I went to Amsterdam for other reasons than legal drug activity). They bought mushrooms, then we all bought individual pizzas. I ate mine with cheese, they ate their's with mushrooms, understood? Rob also bought some weed and rolled a joint in the park next to the Van Gogh museum. I had a few puffs. It's legal, I'm 20, don't judge me. I was a little high so when they started "tripping" it was amusing for a while. Then they got fuller into their trip after 2 or so hours, and my lack of sleep caught up with me. So I bid them goodbye, even though I felt I should maybe be with them to make sure they're okay, and went to nap at the hostel. (The hostel, by the way, was the kind of place where you're skeeved out by everything right down to the sheets and pillowcase on your bed.) All of us had planned to meet at the place called The Grasshopper at 10pm, so when I woke up and it was dark, I sort of panicked and ran out the door. It was only 7pm, so I wandered around Amsterdam by myself for a while. I ate some dinner, did some touristy browsing, heard a lot of Spaniards in the streets and shops (the entire country is full of pot-heads, I swear), and checked my email at an internet cafe. I also got a McDonald's chocolate milkshake, Spanish McDonald's do not have milkshakes. This one was better than American McDonald's chocolate milkshakes because it was a DUTCH McDonald's chocolate milkshake! Mean anything to you? No? Take out the "McDonald's"----> Dutch chocolate milkshake. DELISH. Anyway, I went to the Grasshopper at 9:45... and at 11pm I left rather pissed off. No one came. I waited outside this place (which was just outside the Red Light District) in the freezing drizzly weather for an hour! I checked inside a few times but no one was there. The last time I checked inside, I fell down the half-flight of stairs in front of half the bar. Mortified isn't exactly right because I was so enraged at still being alone. The finger I broke last year started to feel (and still does) like I'd broken it again, and I'm 95% positive I've bruised my tailbone. That was the last straw and I marched my bruised bum right back to the hostel, at that point wanting nothing but my bed at home with my down comforter and my mommy. I survived, though, it was just a bad night.

The next day, Courtney and I got breakfast at a restaurant where there were 7 British men drunk (at 11am) watching a soccer game from the '70s. My plan was to go to the Anne Frank house and then to the Van Gogh or Rembrandt museum. Courtney suggested we stop at a coffee shop for a splif. I had maybe 4 or 5 puffs of a joint with her in this coffee shop (where you can't buy coffee, only weed), and let's just say that I didn't get to go to the house or either museum because I absolutely had to take a nap. It was a horrible experience, and I will never smoke weed again. I have to be the only person in the world who becomes MORE anxious, nervous, and paranoid after smoking marijuana. Courtney, being more experienced, was very helpful and patient with me, and I slept it off til 7pm. Then we got up and ate some felafel sandwiches for dinner and walked around. I still felt a little sick from the earlier experience, so I was just trying to think of other things, but when we passed a movie theater we both stopped and said "Hey! Let's see a movie." It was between Borat and Casino Royale, I was a little partial to Casino Royale, but we decided on Borat. We bought our tickets for 11pm, and walked around til then doing a little tourist shopping. We got Ben and Jerry's on a Belgian waffle for dessert. A Belgian waffle in Holland! It was sooooo good.

Borat was in English still, but with Dutch subtitles, and obviously the movie was full of Dutch people, so it was a really interesting experience. In case you live under a rock, it's making fun of American culture. Borat is making a movie for Kazakhstan so he and his partner travel from New York to L.A. and document their experiences. Only, they only travel through the south, from NY to DC to VA to GA to AL to TX and such to L.A. So you can imagine how the whole thing went. Courtney and I were very very embarrassed to be American as we left the theatre, so we spoke in Spanish. Not that the Dutch would hate us, we just didn't want to be associated with the appalling mess we just saw on screen. It's a funny funny movie and everyone should go see it. It also illustrated my point about how the deep south starts where Northern VA ends, no one here ever believes me when I say that. Anyway, you all should see it. In theaters is cool because in whatever culture you're seeing it you can see other people's reactions, but it's not such a great movie that you can't wait to rent it.

Our flight on Sunday was in the morning so we had to get up at 6ish to get to the airport on time. On the flight back I sat in an aisle seat, but the couple next to me was a Spanish woman and a Scottish man. They spoke in English, but he knew Spanish quite well. I didn't talk to them, but they made me happy. In fact I don't think I said one word to them. I think I just didn't know what to say and in which language. I slept, it was nice. When I got back, Sara was out with her visiting English boyfriend, and went to see Gisella who didn't go to Amsterdam and we went for a nice long walk through some parts of Madrid we hadn't seen.

I'm really going to miss Madrid. Yes, the Spaniards can be ridiculously loud, discourteous to those who aren't family or close friends, and incredibly well-dressed such as I will never be able to imitate, but I love them. They love life. Their lives are made up of so many things, work being one of the less time-consuming ones (and I mean that in a good way). I can't explain why I find everything about this culture, including the faults, so endearing, I just do. Maybe it's just such a huge change and I made a decision to like the Spanish culture before I even came. I love that the government doesn't tax alcohol because the people would throw a collective fit if they did. They're always a tiny bit intoxicated, and a tiny bit aggressive; so they never get absolutely wrecked, or incredibly violent. I love that there are about 4 national holidays each month when everything closes down. I don't know how I will deal without comida/siesta time, not that I nap just that I need that designated pervading relaxation time when I know nothing's going on without me. I love being able to walk everywhere, and being able to take the metro when I feel lazy. I even like ham (only jamón serrano, though). I could go on with each individual thing I love, but that's not all there is to this place. Something's in the air, not the pollution or the lack of moisture, but something. I know it's cliché, but I don't really care.

I do miss home a whole lot, especially because it's Christmastime, the most wonderful time of the year. I can't wait to come home and see everyone and then to go back to school and start up rugby again. I miss it so very much. It's like there are rubber bands that keep me attached to home and school, and they've been stretched for so long that they're really in need of a break. And the cold winter wind keeps attacking them and making them sway, which in turn pulls at the area in the middle of my chest where they're attached to me. The empty area next to your heart, where the two sides of your ribcage meet in between your lungs. I hate metaphors. But I fooled you!! Because this is a simile. Actually I don't really like them either, but sometimes they're easier to use than actually describing the real thing. Metaphors, so you know, are when you say that something IS something else in a comparison, as in they are the same thing or they are equal. A simile is when you say that something is LIKE or SIMILAR to something else in a comparison, acknowledging that they are different and not completely equal.

Alright I've gone completely off track (which is a dead metaphor), so I'll end this quickly. I turned in my 10 page paper, I'm not happy with my work but I only need a C. I turned in my 3 page paper by recycling an old paper that I edited and added a paragraph to. I did my presentation on art. I have to finish a book and write a 4 page paper and then I just have exams left. Wow. I can't believe how amazingly fast this has all gone.

Oh yeah I almost forgot. Ginger went to Portugal and check out the painting/graffiti she saw on one of the walls.

"Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative."

I'm sorry, I'm falling out of the habit of writing consistently. Other than Laura coming to visit, which unfortunately was a little less social than we hoped, nothing much has happened.

Laura came to visit. She arrived Thursday night at 11ish, and we came back and went to RedSprint for her dinner, a dinner of champions. We went to bed once we got in, because Sara was already asleep. Except instead of going to sleep we talked and caught up for a while. The next day we went to school to check email and such as my internet was, surprise surprise, out of commission; and I took her to La Tienda Verde for lunch. Then we took the metro to the Alberto Aguilera Zara and El Corte Inglés, spent a while in Zara and walked around 5 or 6 of the 7 floors of El Corte Inglés. Had to show her Madrid's clothing culture at Zara and the ridiculously expensive convenience of El Corte. We walked down towards Parque del Oeste, which is really not much of a park, past Templo de Debod, which is under restauration, to the Palacio Real. She took some lovely pictures, like she tends to do, and then we snaked through to Sol by way or Calle Mayor, where I did my first real souveneir shopping and ended up with next to nothing. I showed her Km 0, and we walked back north to my residencia, where we sat and caught up some more before eating dinner. Not many people were in town for the weekend, so I didn't really know what to do at night; and those who were home were not really interested in going out. We ended up having a botellón (pre-game), with €1.50 Don Simon Sangria, in Segundo's room in the residencia with some Spaniards and Americans. We hung out there for a long while, until we realized we were kind of tired and people started to leave and, despite pre-gaming there was no game, so Laura and I went to bed.

The next day we got up and went for a tour of Santiago Bernabeu Fútbol Stadium, where Real Madrid plays. It was a drizzly day, we bought the tickets and then waited in line for a good 45 minutes. We saw the stands and the benches where the players sit during the game. We were apparently supposed to see the locker room (to smell the sweat of Sergio Ramos and David Beckham!) but it was closed because it was a game day. We went through the trophy room, which was ridiculously jam-packed with trophies, and to the official store. So many clothes! I wanted to get a Sergio Ramos replica shirt or a long-sleeve blank replica shirt, but there were no price tags. So we had to get in line to get to the register and see how much they were... a slight miscommunication and when I thoguht I bought the cheaper one for €45, I ended up with the more expensive one (the long-sleeve) for a rather exorbitant amount of money that I'd rather not say until I've had the chance to explain to Mother and Father. I may return it still, but I may keep it because that was the one thing I planned of buying before I even came. After that, Laura and I took the metro back and ate at Rodilla, a sandwich shop and then went to the residencia for a rather long siesta. I didn't actually get to the sleeping part, but Laura did. Then we ate some residencia dinner and tried to figure out what to do. Once again, I couldn't get anyone else to come out, despite great efforts, so after a long time we decided on going salsa dancing in Sol. But first, we bought some coke and some red wine and made calimotxo, yum. Then my internet started working and we thought of how fun it would be to call some people back home through Skype. We talked to Kasie and Brianna for about 1.5 to 2 hours (it cost me about $2, how great is that?!) and then went to Sol at midnight. Oh, I will also mention that Brianna was walking with a freshman rookie on the rugby team, as in a new player we haven't met, so we had Brianna put her on the phone and we introduced ourselves. She'd heard great things about us and was honored to meet us... telephonically. This satisfied our egos quite well and we went on our way to salsa. It was fun, like always pretty much. Guys always ready to dance with American girls who they think are easy, so they are pacient and teach you how sort of and then, at the opportune moment, you go to the bathroom and "get lost" for a bit and find a new partner. But we just left after the first partners, we'd been dancing for an hour or so, plus I got us in for free by acting uninterested in a club you had to pay for. We went for churros at 2:30 am, it was packed, they were yummy. We went back to the residencia, Sara was still hanging out with the Spanish guys in the residencia, and we went to bed. Laura had to leave the next morning at 11 to catch her flight back. It was a good weekend.

I had texted Lucía to ask about getting a tour at the stadium because Ana works there, and she gave me the info and asked to meet for lunch on Sunday with her sisters. So I met them at El Corte Inglés on Alberto Aguilera and C/ Princesa, and we ate a Gino's. It was fun... I kind of felt like the really quiet, adopted 4th sister almost. They were teasing each other like sisters do when not in the presence of parents. I told them about my Spain's languages/dialects paper, and they told me they'd studied that in Bachillerato (high school) so they brought me back to their piso to borrow some books. I borrowed one from each of them. They're actually really interesting. I went home and that was that. I regret being as quiet as I was. Why am I so awkward?! How come I can write for years, but I never know what to talk about? I'm better at monologues, I guess, singular activity. But I tried to keep the conversations going as much as possible, I know I was too quiet though. I was also out of practice of Spanish. Sara is so used to speaking English to me now, as it is the language she naturally speaks to most of her friends and her sister, and it's hard to get to speak Spanish. And because she doesn't speak Spanish, I'm too insecure to start into it. So I'm working on it.

"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination."

I know, I know, and I'm sorry. The weekend following my last update was rather uneventful. Sara and I joined some other Americans from API on Thursday for salsa dancing. She and I bonded a little that night so we're comfortable together now I suppose. And it's cool because when we go out she's like my hall pass or something because she's Spanish, so I'm okay by association. It rained all weekend and most of my friends went on trips, so I basically moped around and watched movies and ate with Sara. I had her watch Old School which she loved, "funny american comedies!"

Then I went to classes Monday through Wednesday which is never fun. Suffice it to say that I have a whole bunch of papers/presentations due in the next two weeks and I really should have started a lot of it but I haven't. Thursday I went to Paris on the API trip, so with at least 50 or so other American kids studying in Madrid and Granada. The flight attendants pretty much hated us... I would hate us too: all loud, and some kids were belligerently drunk, no one was quiet for the safety spiel. We arrived in Paris at 9ish, and on the plane flying over the city we could clearly see the Eiffel Tower in the city! I took a picture, we'll have to see how it turns out. We checked into our hotel rooms and a couple of us walked to the Eiffel Tower to see it all lit up. We got some crepes on the way, mine with Nutella, it was okay. I'd rather just have chocolate than chocolate and hazelnut. Well it was all lit up and gorgeous and breathtaking and we took millions of photos.

Friday API organized a bus tour of the city for us. It made 3 stops for us to get out to take some photos, and I got some good pictures of the Eiffel Tower with the sun still low in the morning sky righ behind it. They let us off at Notre-Dame and all my friends wanted to go up it, but I didn't so I split off and walked through the Left Bank through the University area to our hotel. I stopped here and there, it was really nice. I felt like I belonged so much more in Paris than I do in Madrid, maybe because I'm not Spanish at all but I am a little French. Maybe because Madrid's fashions are outrageous and trendy (and expensive), whereas Paris' are classier (and expensive). Maybe because I'm so pale and have relatively light hair and eyes and I'm larger than a size 2, and that actually happens sometimes in Paris but not in Madrid. Whatever it was, I didn't feel like such an outsider until I had to speak. How painful it was not to know the language!! I tried so hard. One semester with a bad professor is not enough French. I understood them okay, but then I stood there mute because I could not think of anything and couldn't decide if it was better to answer is Spanish or French. I ended up switching off, but I never got any bad looks, comments, inconsiderateness from French people. Either they couldn't tell I was American, or unless you act like an asshole (as per some of the males in my program) they don't mind you. I even got asked for directions by French people twice!!! We went to the Louvre and saw the Mona Lisa among other things. Friday nights 6pm-10pm students under 26 get in free! The place is an insane maze. And did you know it used to be the royal palace? Kings just kept building onto it so it's ridiculous. We ate dinner at an Italian restaurant where they were very nice to us, and then we walked around the Latin Quarters. It was kinda cool, but we went back home pretty early. Laura and I watched a German sitcom on TV before bed.

The next day, Saturday, we went to the Palace of Versailles. After my Western Civilization class freshman year that was taught by a French history obsessed olf man, I was quite excited to see the relic of opulence and royal self-indulgence. It's probably the biggest building I've ever seen. I couldn't believe it. Saturday was Armistice Day, a holiday, so it (along with many other things) was closed. We were allowed to go into the gardens though, which was enough for me. BEAUTIFUL! BELLE! BONITA! HERMOSA! MAGNIFIQUE! SPLENDIDE! It had rained the night before and was cloudy all day, so I can't even imagine how amazing it is on a pretty fall or spring day. I wanted to walk the whole length of the gardens, but there was a tiny matter of hunger, thirst, and lack of toilettes. I took a lot of pictures of course, but they can't possibly express what I felt walking through there. Louis XIV walked through there with Marie Antoinette. So cool. I will return. That night we went again to the Eiffel Tower and it was still pretty. We also talked to a homeless German man with a guinea pig. Actually Courtney talked to him and I sat there a little freaked out with Laura and Gisella. He ended up being rather harmless, and I really think his guinea pig was keeping him alive like a dog does. We were really careful and the police were watching us like hawks, before anyone gets their panties in a bunch. I got a crepe avec chocolat et banane which was ok except the chocolate dripped everywhere. We went back to the hote and Laura and I watched an Italian "Dancing with the Stars" show. Multicultural television.

Sunday we checked out and went to see the Moulin Rouge, took a picture and moved on to Montmartre. Montmartre is a little neighborhood sort of north in Paris. It's also the part of Paris in which the movie Amelie takes place!! There's a big hill at the top of which is Sacré-Coeur, and an amazing view of Paris. I made everyone go to Montmartre and then I made them climb the hill to the top. I think they appreciated my stubbornness. We ate at a restaurant near the hill and then went back to the hotel to take the bus to the airport. I got home last night at 1am. Unpleasant. But all in all, I only ended up spending about €60-70, which is amazing because Paris is so much more expensive than Madrid. However, I only bought food, so it's also a little pathetic because I spent that much money on food in 3 days.

This weekend, Laura is coming to visit. Next weekend, I have tickets booked to Amsterdam. I'm considering cancelling the Amsterdam trip because I have a 10 pg paper, 5 pg paper, and a presentation due the Mon and Tues I come back. We'll see. I put photos up.

"If one scheme of happiness fails human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere"

Tuesday the 24th, I got a roommate again. Amy is from Essex, England just outside London. She was temporary. She only had to stay here for a few days in her journey from Andalucía to Galicia where she was going to do a nature camp for kids. She was really cool, majored in English literature, and was totally free for those few days to do whatever she wanted.

Molly was here from Thursday the 26th to Monday the 30th. I tried to show her all I could and have the best of times, but it was difficult because 2 or 3 of my friends who would help a lot in making it easy to have fun were out of the country. Friday night I had to see a play with my Literature professor, her husband, and 2 of my friends/classmates. It was awkward being out at night with a professor and her husband, but luckily our seats were separate from hers. The play seemed like it was good, but halfway through I lost the capacity to focus hard enough to get what they were saying. The play was mostly composed of monologues within dialogues. After the play, Molly and I wanted to get tapas, so we stopped in my room and told Amy and she said, "Yeah, let's do it! Let's just go to some bar!!" There are tons of bars in Madrid. My residencia has a bar on either side of it. So we went up a little side street off our road, and Molly and I got cerveza con limón ("clara" is how it's called) and tapas. They were yummy, and "con limón" is the only way I will drink beer from now on. Saturday night I tried to get some salsa dancing going, but it was kind of a bust because I am horrible at organizing and no one else was really doing it. We were able to salsa for a little bit before we turned in for the night. Sunday was probably the best day because Molly and I just got up and went to Retiro for the day. For the first half we meandered through the park and people-watched on a bench, guessing nationalities (which we were very good at). The second half we went to the monument near the big lake to watch the drummers. The drummers start to arrive every Sunday around 5pm, they bring dreaded hair, weed, dirty tshirts, converse shoes, forties of Mahou (Spain's beer), bongos of all sizes, cowbells (there was not enough cowbell for me), and their hippie attitudes. I LOVE IT. They don't even all know each other, you can tell, they just sit down and start the beating. It's nothing rehearsed, it's nothing specific, but it grows and grows in numbers. It's so marvelous. We stayed to watch and feel the beat for about an hour and a half, we climbed up on the stone wall behind the benches where they sat to sit and watch. I purposefully wore my converse, jeans, and Jimi Hendrix tshirt to fit in, I do think I was a little too clean though. I even started to think about my hair in dreadlocks... and no, I was not high. Anyway, it was fun and I'm gonna go as much as I can from now on. That night, Molly, Laura (italian from Long Island), and I went for churros con chocolate. Molly and I split an order, it was more than enough. It was a nice way to finish the weekend. She left Monday morning and I went to class.

Oh yes, and I got ANOTHER roommate. But this one is permanent!!!! On Saturday, I had Kacie come over to give Molly a haircut, and Ester (the cute old lady who lives in the residencia and calls everyone "hijo/a" and "niño/a") came in to change the sheets on the other bed, which is odd. She told me a niña came earlier to get a room for the rest of her courses. Sara arrived on Sunday with her suitcases and her little sister, but she said she'd be back Monday because she was going to spend the night with her family in their hotel. Sara is 18, from Alicante in Valencia, she's studying Interior Design at a school that starts class next week, and she's gone to English schools her whole life so she speaks PERFECT English with a London accent. Her first night here, we pretty much just asked each other questions in Spanish because I told her I want to learn. I introduced her to Gisella, and we went back and forth between English and Spanish, it was kind of fun. Every time she speaks English with her British accent, I'm just so jealous. Number 1, she's a Spanish girl and speaks Spanish with the accent I'm trying to pick up here. Number 2, she speaks her second language (English) perfectly and with a pristine accent. Number 3, SHE HAS A BRITISH ACCENT! YOU CAN'T BE BRITISH AND SPANISH AT THE SAME TIME AND LEAVE ME BEING AMERICAN, IT'S NOT FAIR!!!!!! I honestly do not hear a trace of a Spanish accent in her English. Boo. But she is very very nice, and only knows 2 or 3 other girls who live in an apartment a few streets from here, so I'm going to integrate her into my group... umm yeah.

We went out for Halloween last night. And by "we", I mean Gisella and I. Laura met up with us, though. Sara was going to the same area, she thought, but we never met up with her mostly because I forgot to exchange phone numbers with her. Gisella and I sort of dressed up. Enough that they would pass as costumes, but we could adjust a piece to just look super-Madrileña. Have you seen Mean Girls? If not, don't judge me until you have. I was Karen Smith on Halloween from Mean Girls. I bought a long long short sleeve black shirt, black sequiny belt, black tights, a head band, and black ear muffs. I made the ear muffs and head band into mouse ears, straightened my hair, put on rather whorish makeup for me (I still can't get the eyeliner off), and put my headband ears on. "I'm a mouse. DUH," [point to mouse ears]. GET IT?!?!?! Haha, no one really got it, but whatever. I had fun, even without a single piece of candy. All the Spaniards who were dressed up, were dressed up scary. I kind of wanted to walk around and say, "Eww, why are you dressed so scary?" (also a quote from Mean Girls by Karen). Anyway, today is All Saint's Day, so I have no classes and almost everything is closed... so you can imagine how many people were out last night. Bob is in town with his friends from Copenhagen so I'm going to meet up with him later. Goodbye!!

"Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love."

It's been quite a fortnight here in Madrid. You can probably tell from the lack of updates. I'm going to try to avoid going into great detail, but as you know, and as you can see currently, I tend to babble. I apologize in advance.

Mom and Janet came on Thursday morning Oct 12. I went to collect them from the airport, it was exciting. I waited for about an hour which isn't bad considering recollecting your bags from baggage claim takes something like 45 minutes. We took a taxi to their hotel and dropped off their stuff then we went to my residencia. I showed them my room and such, and then we tried to go to lunch. I don't quite remember why, but I couldn't find my intended restaurant so we ate at the Café Oriental, or something like that, the café that's right next to the Palacio Real. After that we took the metro back to their hotel and they pretty much went to bed, understandably so because of jet lag. They decided I could be on my own for dinner that night because they were going to sleep. And I do remember this quite well, the residencia had the yummiest chicken and little pizzas for dinner. It was delicious. Most all my friends were in Morocco for the weekend, so Laura and I went to Red Sprint for some entertainment magazines, soda, chips, and dip. I'm not sure why but we went to the park at Plaza de España to eat and drink and chat. It was nice.

On Friday we went to the Prado, I repeated the things I'd heard from the tour guide in August and translated a few signs. Then we walked up through Sol and did minimal shopping, I got some coooooooool bronze ballerina flats that feel almost like slippers, and a winter coat which I have recently been using quite a bit. While in the shoe store, Rita Puerto called me to offer to take us to Segovia the next day. As I was caught off guard and shoe-shopping, I'm sure my Spanish was rather pathetic, but we managed to work everything out. Mom, Janet and I went to dinner in Sol I think and then went to Chocolatería San Ginés for churros con chocolate.

Saturday we got up bright and early to meet the Puertos at 9am (ohh, sooo early!!!!) for Segovia. Rafa and Lucía came and we went in their car, Marta and Rita went in Marta's car. We would've split up to make it more comfortable but I think it was that we weren't sure how it would work with the language barrier. Segovia is cool becausee it was a Roman city, and it has an aqueduct that is still perfect. It's also home to the castle from which Walt Disney got the idea for Cinderella's castle. PRETTY! At lunch, Mom and Janet ordered baby pig with Marta and Rafa. Mom's and Rafa's had a hoof on it, with claws or whatever. Marta's had an ear. Janet's had nothing... yikes. On the way home, Rafa suggested "las jóvenes" ride together since he and Rita were communicating okay in English. So Marta taught me car vocabulary, Lucía slept, and I felt super cool!! Rafa dropped us at the hotel and Rita told me she would call the next day to give me ideas for what to do with Mom and Janet in the afternoon.

Sunday we went to El Rastro and Retiro. El Rastro is Madrid's Sunday open-air flea market type thing. It's not very much of a flea market and there was no food, so it wasn't that great. But I got a scarf and a Spain fútbol shirt. Then we went to lunch at a tapas bar (by the way, when I say bar in reference to Spain, it also means café; but café does not always mean bar) and I ordered 3 raciones, which are plates for the whole table to share. I thought I did a pretty good job except I accidentally ordered one with ham and I meant to order it without. Rita called me and said she'd get us tickets to a flamenco show that night. EXCITING! Then we went to Parque del Retiro, saw a bit of a street show, and went to move on but I was incredibly tired and started to feel a bit sick. I went home to take a nap, and left Janet and Mom. We met at the Plaza Tirso de Molina at 8, and there were Rita, Marta, Lucía, Rita's sister Isabel, and her daughters Isabel and Marina. So --maybe only I thought this-- it was kind of like a family girls' night out. 4 sisters, 5 daughters... so what if 2 of the sisters aren't related to the other 2?! Anyway, the flamenco show was in a theater and it was incredibly popular because Sara Baras, the lead dancer I guess of the show, is famous in Spain. It was my first flamenco experience, it was amazing. I would so love to learn how to do it just a little bit. After the show all us girls went to a pizzeria in La Latina, which Isabel the elder kept badgering Marta about how well she knew the area because she was a bit worried about it's safeness. The pizza was yummy and the conversation was interesting. Rita invited us to dinner the next night.

I went to classes on Monday. Then Mom and Janet came and saw the tiniest, most pathetic excuse for a school ever. LE ODIO! Then we ate lunch at VIP'S, and walked down C/ Princesa for some shopping. I got mixed up because we named the dinner time for 7pm, which is just so early to me now, so I sort of lost track of time and left us just enough time to hurry back to our respective places to get ready for dinner. I had meant to leave time for me to get some work done. But we went to the Puerto's apartment relatively on time. Mom and Janet met Ana and got the tour of the house, which was much longer than mine because Rita gave it and they asked questions like good guests. I'm incurious. We ate a dinner of tapas (refer to webshots pictures) which was pretty good even with the ham, for which I think I've developed a tolerance. Marta asked about Area 51, Lucía, Ana, and Rita looked very interested. Mom answered surprised because we didn't realize that people would wonder about it. We also explained about (I'm sorry) "Dumbfuckistan". They explained about their immigration laws. It's easy to forget that Spain does not have political-correctness but you're reminded, ever-so-slightly, when you converse. Lucía showed her photo albums to Mom and Janet, then I heard Marta and Ana talking about how the Sevillanas wouldn't download or transfer or something. Sevillanas is a type of Flamenco. Rita used to be quite the flamenco dancer, and all her girls took lessons. I knew we were gonna see some Puerto flamenco. Sure enough, out came the shoes, the skirts (IMPOSSIBLY TINY!), and the castanets. The girls danced, Rafa looked proud. Then they tried to teach us! I'm convinced that years of soccer have left me incapable of appearing graceful or trying to move my arms in legs in any kind of coordinated manner. I think Janet got it, but I was really focusing on my own feet. Spaniards are not self-concious. It was raining when it was time to go, so Rafa got us umbrellas and he and Lucía walked us to the Metro.

The next day I went to my literature class and then booked it home to get stuff to send home with Mom, and then went to the hotel. We got a taxi to take us to Barradas where I was dropped off and Mom and Janet went on their way to the airport. It was a very nice weekend for the most part. By the end, Mom and Janet were starting to understand some Spanish. And since we were with the Puertos so much, I practiced a lot of Spanish, and I think it improved a little. Ana told me it sounded like I'd improved a lot since the last time I was there which was only about 2 weeks before, so that's encouraging.

The rest of the week in terms of classes was not fun. First week of midterms, loaded down with commentaries, essays, books, stories, translations, research. More work than I've ever had at Mary Wash. I'm still in the midst of it, a week later.

Thursday night I was supposed to have a midterm in my Span Cultural Studies class, but I scheduled my flight to Dublin at that time. I told my professor (who's Irish, coincidentally) and he worked it out for me to take the exam Monday. He's great.

Took a flight from Madrid to Dublin, got there and took the best taxi ride ever to my hostel in the Temple Bar. The taxi driver heard my American accent and was so excited. He immediately started in with "Your man is bastard." He meant George W. He explained to me that Europeans, or at least the Irish, have nothing against Americans, just our president. He said George wants us to think that Europeans don't like us. I told him I got a less than warm welcome in Madrid, and he said don't worry about it because it's city-folk and you just have to be you. The hostel was quite an experience. I was in a room with I think 15 other people who I obviously didn't know. Bunk beds and a tiny bathroom. It wasn't dirty or cold or smelly so it was juuuuust fine.

Friday morning I went to the Book of Kells at Trinity College's library. It's an exhibit of this ancient text written in Ireland for a saint or something. It was REALLY COOL. And the library itself was amazing. We couldn't take pictures though, and you have to follow the rules in Ireland, so I'll google a picture or something. Then I went to St. Stephen's park and meandered through. I was looking at the lake from the little stone bridge and 2 cops came up to me and said, "Don't Jump! It's too cold for us to save you." Then they heard the accent and it got them talking even more. The Irish are the nicest people ever. Then I went to a little grocery store and got some apples, bread, cheese, and Starbursts for lunch and the busride to Galway. I got my stuff from the hostel and walked over to the bus stop and boarded. I got a window seat and shared with a lady from Galway, her husband was sitting in front of her. I felt the urge to offer my seat so they could sit next to each other, but I can't nap in an aisle seat. So I didn't, but I did offer her Starbursts, which she seemed grateful for. And we had a nice little chat too. I liked her.
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I got to Galway around 5 or 6, Molly came and we walked to her apartment. She shares with 3 Irish girls who go home on the weekends and another American girl, Emma. Then we 3 and their friend Patterson, who also plays rugby, went to the Connacht rugby game. Connacht is their "province" sort of. They were playing a team from England. It was really cool to actually see a real rugby game in person and listen to the team's fans with their respective accents. Then Molly and I went out to dinner in downtown Galway, which is very much like downtown Fredericksburg. As Molly put it, it's what downtown Fredericksburg tries to be but isn't. Then we met her friends at a pub and I had my first half-pint of Guinness, and as much as I hate beer, it wasn't too bad but it still tasted like beer. I'm not a genuine rugby player if I can't even like beer in Ireland.

The next day we went downtown to the weekend open air market. It was a little thing, not too crowded, but it felt like Fall and it felt like I could have been in Jacksonville except for the accents. There were a bunch of food stalls, and Molly had advised me not to eat breakfast, so I had a brunch of sorts at the market. There were fresh-made doughnuts, bagels, Indian food (which I tried and didn't mind), pumpkins, fruit, apples, banana bread, apple cider, hot chocolate, muffins, everything which makes Fall for me (except the Indian food). It smelled like Fall, it looked like Fall, it was even Fall weather. Madrid does not have Fall, or even Halloween, so I was very very grateful for this and I savoured every second. Molly and Emma decided that on Saturday they were going to go the shore and jump in the Galway Bay. It's cold in Ireland. I went with them and took pictures for them. I'm a chicken, I know it, I don't care, it was freezing even while dry. There were some little boys jumping in, and then Molly and Emma. After they got out, there were a couple of mid-20s-ish Irish guys who said, well if those 2 did it, we HAVE to so they jumped in too. We went home, Molly made a scrumptrulescent vegetarian dinner and we carved pumpkins. Mine and Molly's was a jack-o-lantern but he had an evil face. Then we all went "pub-crawling", but we actually only went to 2 pubs. The first one had some live Irish music. Just 4 guys sitting in a corner with their little instruments, improving away. And I had a pint of Smithwick's, Miss Lauren Rock's favorite beer from when she studied abroad in Dublin. Smithwick's is probably my favorite beer, but I still don't really like beer. Then we went to another pub which had a DJ and a dancing area, and we danced! Oh and also I met their Irish friend Jane who was 18, but I swear these Europeans don't age the same as we do, because they always seem way older. She was really nice, and so very stereotypically Irish. I loved it. We went home to bed because I had to get up at 7am to leave for the bus station to catch the bus at 8am to Dublin airport for my flight at 3pm. I got there about 3 or 4 hours before the flight so they didn't even know my gate yet. I got into Madrid at about 7 and got to my dorm at about 8. I ate dinner and went to bed to start the next week of enraging classes and papers.

This is not fully updated to the day but that's all you get for now. Molly is now here in Madrid, and I must be a good hostess and show her the sights. So read all this mess and then wait a while for the next update.