Sunday, October 28, 2007

Tennis Club

A couple weeks ago, I decided that I am on vacation (since I don't really go to class anymore) and that I should start doing vacation-y things. So, I joined a tennis club and a Barcelona tennis website. Through this site, I meet forty year-old women who kick my ass in tennis and then run back to the British instructor to tell him about how good they are.

This morning I was waiting in the reception area of the club for a re-match with a British flight attendant who beat me a couple weeks ago. The instructor was hanging out waiting for someone and we started talking. Every single one of his stories involved a. A date, b. Getting really drunk, and c. Him being the only guy there. He told me about 16 girls he went out with last night, a nice woman who lives near me that he took out to a movie last week, etc.

As he brushed his wedding-band-free hand over his mouth, I realized that he has herpes. Gross.

Shorty after, I beat the woman who had previously defeated me (he had given her a private lesson to the day before).

Saturday, October 27, 2007

F.O.B.

Freshman year, I lived a couple doors down from a Chinese boy who had just moved to the US to go to school. His real name was totally un-pronounceable so he went by Arvin. One of his best friends (Wang) lived down the hall from a friend of mine in another dorm. My friend and I would constantly compare notes on funny things these boys did (made bowls of Cup-of-Noodles the size of football helmets, go to all-night raves in the woods, sneak Chinese chicks into their rooms when their roommates were out).

I distinctly remember a conversation I had with Arvin about dorm t-shirts. I was taking orders and wanted to get him one but wasn't sure if he wanted one/would understand that he had to pay for it. He claimed he really wanted it and I figured if he could take Chemistry classes in English, he probably understood what I was saying - even though he just appeared to be smiling and saying "yes" a lot.

In my current living situation, the woman I rent a room from is the one Spaniard that I can only understand about 5% of the time. Our conversations always end with her saying something incomprehinsible and me saying "Sí," as I back up into my room and lock the door. I'm pretty sure she thinks of me as a total F.O.B. (fresh off the boat, for you non-racists) who hates to leave her room unless it's to go drink all night. I'm sure my situation isn't that similar to Arvin's, but I definitely understand him better now.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Sick

I think I'm getting sick again. Which sucks because no one likes being sick but rules because I can utilize my disease (a very light cold) as an excuse to never go to class (which I wouldn't be doing anyway) and stay in bed all day reading Oprah's Book Club books and watching TV on my computer.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Ma Birthday

Monday was my birthday, and even though some people

weren't here to celebrate it (I'll someday manage to forgive them, I'm sure), it was really fun. The main highlights were going to a Pirate Bar on rap night, cutting class to find a seedy bar in the middle of the day with Ross, and a really nice dinner my mom paid for. Since I hate recounting everything that happens in detail, I'm just going to post a mini-photo-montage of Ross at dinner.



Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Old Men Are Gross

This morning I decided to go to my US Literature class again (I really don't understand why I keep making this mistake). I hadn't showered in a couple days and threw on the first clothes I could find which happened to be really dirty because I wore them all weekend at La Granja.

On my way to the metro, I passed an old man. As he hobbled by me, he slurped (yes, that's right, slurped) at me. I was pretty disgusted but decided to keep making my way to school (instead of going home and crawling back into bed and crying like I wanted to).

Class sucked.

After class, I was rushing across the street toward the metro (that could take me home to my bed where I could cry about this morning) when an old man said something to me about "chorizo" (sausage), followed by an "adios, guapa" (bye, pretty) as he looked me up and down.

Gross.

Monday, October 15, 2007

La Granja


This weekend we went to our friend Marc's farm in La Garriga. His family is Catalán and have a farmhouse they don't use that he has access to, so we visited. It was really cool, had enough beds for everyone, and the woman who takes care of La Granja fed us a couple meals. Saturday night, we went through 13 bottles of wine and a bottle and a half of vodka (12 people), not to mention the beer we consumed before dinner.

After a couple games of billiards and hide & go seek (what else are you expected to do without technology?), people started passing out. A friend of mine who was visiting for the weekend fell asleep pretty quickly, and for some reason, people decided to wake her up. After some semi-violent shaking, she woke up, ran to the sink in her bedroom (it doesn't drain), and vomited in it. Since the sink is non-functioning, her roommates (two girls who had never met her before) scooped the vomit out of the sink with a cup into a bucket.

Marc was carrying the bucket down the stairs when he slipped and spilled puke all over himself. Somehow, it also got spilled in the kitchen and the girl who got sick mopped the floor up the next morning before she left. Luckily, I managed to fall asleep before she threw up, and wake up after it was all cleaned up. All in all, it was a pretty good weekend.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Classes

I made it to all of my classes this week for the first time since real classes have started. I even got to go to my Introduction to US Literature class on Thursday morning! We discussed "The Raven" because class is ridiculously pointless. Our teacher made us listen to an eight minute long reading of the poem by Christopher Walken she pulled up on YouTube (background noises of a storm included), while she talked about how amazing his voice is.

I'm dead serious, she said Christopher Walken has a good voice.

For homework, she advised that we watch The Simpsons Halloween special on YouTube of "The Raven." She tried to explain why would enjoy it, but I couldn't understand what she was saying since she's not a native English speaker and screws up her accent sometimes.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Universitat de Barcelona

I just got back from my Introduction to United States Literature class (this class is a total joke). I probably shouldn't be enrolled to take this because it is targeted at Spaniards who don't really know English and are only in their second year of college. But Davis agreed to give me credit for it, so I'm taking it.

Today, we spent the third consecutive class section covering Washington Irving's "Rip Van Winkle." Classes here are an hour and half long - which means we have spent four and a half hours discussing "Rip Van Winkle" (also, we never actually look at the text in class). The teacher's English is horrible and her views on American literature is incredibly skewed (she's convinced that everything we do is a reflection of the Revolutionary War in some way).

Another thing I've noticed about Spaniards is when the teacher rhetorically asks "Do you get what I'm saying?" they have no problem responding "No." So, we usually spend an average of 2 hours on each concept because there's always someone who doesn't get it.

I haven't yet made it to a Thursday class since I keep going out Wednesday nights (class sessions are Tues/Thurs), so I may be consistently catching her on her "off" days. My goal for the week is to actually go to all of my classes, so we'll see.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Hug Me Constantly

On Wednesday night, I was considering staying in since I keep missing my Thursday morning class due to hangovers (even if it is Intro to US Literature for non-English speakers) but decided to participate in a bar crawl under the conditions that I was allowed to leave early. At the first bar, while waiting for my mohito, I realized there was no way I was leaving early and was going to probably make it to the end. All the bars were so close to where I lived and I couldn't use the metro closing as an excuse since I didn't need to take the metro.

I ended up missing both my classes the next day (the first due to a hangover and the second due to H&M), but all in all I'm pretty sure I'm better off than Ross.

The night before, a few of us went to Cafe Del Sol - a bar near where we live that is in the running for becoming 'our place' - and the entire time Ross was complaining about how he hasn't been drunk in Spain (and how the last time he was actually drunk was June). I guess this discussion drove him to realize how much he wants to drink?

He showed up to the bar crawl totally plastered. He had finished 3/4 of a bottle of 5 euro vodka on an empty stomach in an attempt to end his sobriety streak. He immediately ran up to a girl he didn't know and kept touching her and talking to her. She came over, introduced herself to me, and told me "Ross is cut off. I don't even know Ross, but he is cut off."

We decided this was a good time to give Ross a shot of vodka (from a second 5 euro bottle) that we had snuck in. We poured it out of the plastic waterbottle we had used to smuggle it in, into a used shotglass in front of him. When we handed him the shot his response was "Aww! Did you buy this for me?" He then tried to get everyone around him to dance, even though no music was playing, and he doesn't usually dance. His dance consisted of waving to the bottles and saying "Bottles, bottles bottles" then switching sides and waving to an Audrey Hepburn poster and saying "Audrey Hepburn, Audrey Hepburn, Audrey Hepburn."

On the way to the next bar, we temporarily lost Ross since he refused to move because he was "waiting for someone to pee." He then refused to go into the bar because "this is the place where murderers are murdered." He also kept telling people things like "I'm as drunk as an animal that shoots odors out of it's rectum... A SKUUUNNKKK," and asking people to "Hug me constantly" (he initially only did this to girls but after some provoking it evolved into "Marc, my man, hug me constanlty"). You would think this would motivate him to stop drinking, but instead he continued to buy beer, and ended up puking under the table at the last bar after passing out: