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I got home last night, and one of the first things I saw when I got into the airport was:

Oh, America. I'm so happy to be back.

My Last Spain Blog

I just finished packing and was about to pack up my computer, but decided I should probably write a final blog first. Overall, this year has been really amazing but I'm happy I get to go home. I just wanted to say a final thanks to everyone in my program for everything. I'm going to miss you guys a ton.

I Will NOT Miss Spain

Even though I'm going to miss Spain a lot and the second I step on the airplane I'm going to have some instant nostalgia issues, as of now I want to get the hell out of here. Reasons I will not miss Spain:

- Everyone has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome
- This morning on the train (at 7am) people were skateboarding up and down the aisles, running into innocent bystanders. They would apologize profusely, then continue their mission to wreak havoc on the train. Douchebags.
- Loudness is EVERYWHERE. Especially in the form of vespas without mufflers.
- It went from uncomfortably hot where I can't even sleep at night to pouring rain so heavily I was drenched within seconds of leaving my apartment, even though I had an umbrella.
- I purchased said umbrella a few days ago and it's already broken because nothing in this country actually works.
- My cell phone has to be recharged with money regularly. The going rate to call people with other service providers: €1. 20 per minute.
- Even though I have been here for exactly a year (as of today), people still start speaking to me in broken English when I speak to them in Spanish. My Spanish is that bad.
- All the food is mediocre.
- I constantly feel sick and and acquiring new health problems by the instant. My finger has been jammed for a month, limiting my ability to write. I broke out in hives today (for one of the first times in my life) because it was raining.
- My internet is perpetually broken.
- I'm down to knowing 3 people in Spain: Rosé, Ros, and Marc. Everyone else has left.

Two more days. America, here I come. I hear there are fatties everywhere (according to Ross), but at this point I really don't care.

Joanna

This morning, Marc and I took Joanna to the airport. Since Joanna was essentially one of my first friends in Spain, it's REALLY UPSETTING that she's gone. I still can't get over it. I was reading her blog (j0clay.blogspot.com) and she was summarizing things she enjoyed from this year and the majority of them were things I was also there for. It made me pretty nostalgic. Even though I'm sure I'll see her soon, this is really weird.

Spanish Spelling

French:Americans::English:Spaniards

In the US, we find products with French on the label to be exotic and of higher quality. Oddly enough (probably because it's also 6000 miles foreign), Spanish people feel the same way about English. Unluckily, Spaniards only have 5 vowel sounds, so to replicate English noises they have to alter the spelling (and, beyond the vowel issue, things are just pronounced differently here believe it or not). Some stuff I've seen in the past week:

Flaixbac Radio (ix=sh in Catalan)
Estriptis (Eh-Striptease for all you non-Spanish speakers)

I swear there are more examples out there, but that's all I have for now.

Pamplona

I went to Pamplona for Running with the Bulls (I didn't run), which was pretty predictable. It's better to watch on TV, though. I put photos on Facebook but none of them are that good because it was dark and I didn't have anything to prop my camera on, so everything is pretty blurry. It was fun, overall. Also, going to Pamplona was one of my main goals for the year and since I'm going home in four days it's a good thing I got to see it.

Flight

I just called United to request a window seat for my flight home and they informed me that one of my connecting flights was moved and I now need to change my ticket. Unluckily, all of the offices are closed because it's the weekend so I need to call back on Monday (coincidentally, when I will be in San Sebastian). I need to do something to up my karma.

I'm Ready

I'm ready to move out of my apartment. There has been a glass of urine sitting on the counter in my bathroom for the last week. I'm not sure which of my roommates put it there, but I suspect Rosé. I'm not talking about a sealed, plastic cup. I'm talking about a glass that I used to drink out of that I cannot distinguish from the rest of our glasses. I will now invest in a pack of water bottles.

Instant Messaging

I have a younger sister named Brett (for all of you that aren't in my immediate family and don't know this, she's the one on the left):

Recently she's been online a lot, and likes to IM me. She's probably the nicest of my family members, but she's really spacey and obviously gets really excited/overwhelmed by AIM conversations. Unless you know her, this conversation probably won't be that interesting: (Actually, even if you know her you might not find this super interesting, for some reason everything she does kind of fascinates me since I've known her since she was born.)

1:25:50 AM Hillary: hey!
1:25:58 AM Betty: hhheeeyy
1:26:03 AM Betty: mom there
1:26:12 AM Hillary: no, she's on her way back
1:26:12 AM Betty: i love you
1:26:15 AM Hillary: love you too
1:26:18 AM Betty: <3
1:26:35 AM Betty: sso
1:26:46 AM Betty: howd it go with mom there
1:26:58 AM Hillary: it was really fun
1:27:10 AM Betty: really? great!
1:27:18 AM Hillary: how was it back home without her there?
1:27:31 AM Betty: I m excited shes coming home
1:28:11 AM Betty: bab ok good im a slow typer
1:28:36 AM Betty: good
1:29:00 AM Betty: 3 ichats going
1:29:39 AM Hillary: who else are you talking to?
1:31:09 AM Betty: morgan my bff and cami who is not reasponding
1:31:14 AM Hillary: oh ok
1:32:15 AM Betty: back again
1:33:00 AM Betty: now 2 ichats
1:33:07 AM Hillary: who left?
1:33:12 AM Betty: cami left
1:33:19 AM Betty: :'(
1:36:07 AM Betty: hillwy
1:36:15 AM Hillary: what?
1:37:27 AM Hillary: all right, well i'm going to go but i'll talk to you later
1:37:50 AM Hillary: bye

Also, she goes by Betty, in case you didn't catch on. And the time is Spain time, she's not awake in the middle of the night. She's very responsible.

Ross

As I near the end of my year abroad, I've started to have to say goodbye to people which is really upsetting. Today was Ross' last day in Barcelona, so we walked around and went shopping all day (our store selection was based more on who had air conditioning than what we were looking for). Overall, it was a really good day, and it was pretty relaxing. Even though I'm going to see Ross pretty soon, and then will be living with him all year next year, his departure is pretty traumatizing. Here's a photo from back when Ross was still here (even though, techically he's still here since his flight doesn't leave for a few more hours):

Also, if you're reading this and are offended because you aren't Ross, and you already went home and I didn't blog about you, don't take it personally. I know Ross actually reads my blog REALLY regularly, and him leaving is a pretty pivotal moment for me.

Sant Joan

Yesterday was Sant Joan, which is when everyone in Barcelona celebrates the shortest night of the year by lighting off all the fireworks that are leftover from the last three weeks of the "fireworks outside Hillary's window" show. My friends and I went down to the beach and watched drunk people light their personal explosives on fire for a while and then went home. It was fun and all, but I think that going out every single night/being unemployed is getting to us, and so another excuse to go drink on the beach is getting progressively less exciting.

Radiohead

I meant to blog about this before, but right before my Balearic Islands trip, I saw Radiohead in concert at the Forum in Barcelona. Like always, I didn't take my camera, so here's a photo I stole from Deja:

The concert was one of the best I've been to, and if any of you ever have to opportunity to see Radiohead in concert, you should go. It was amazing.

Urban Camping

I just got back from a camping trip through the Balearic Islands off the East coast of Spain:

Here's basically what happened:

Day 1 - Friday, June 13, 2008

Got home from Radiohead concert at 2am, showered, finished packing, went to sleep. Woke up STARVING at 5:30am, ate some cereal, got dressed, went to the bus station.

Karli, Adam, Deja, Alex, Elyssa, Josh, Sebastian (Adam's friend) and I all made the bus to Valencia. John Karlo (who wasn't actually coming on our trip but his trip coincided with the beginning of ours) missed the bus but met up with us in Valencia. We had some boat confusion about which boat we were actually on since apparently Spain is just on strike in general right now and a lot of things aren't working out (e.g. the truck drivers are on strike so we don't have food), but we worked it out.

We wandered for a while, Valencia is way cooler than I thought it would be. We had a picnic in the park, wandered to a bunch of other parks and playgrounds (including a SLIDE PARK) and then got some coffee and killed time until our bus to Denia (where our boat left from).




(photos from Deja)

By the time we got to Denia, it was dark out and we didn't know where to find a campsite. Deja, Sebastian and I split off and slept on the beach and the rest of the group slept together somewhere else.

Day 2 - Saturday, June 14, 2008

Woke up at 5:30am on the beach.

Walked for what felt like hours to the Isomar boat, met up with the rest of the group while we were waiting. Got into Ibiza and decided to cross the island to find a camp site, but first ate Indian food and went to an internet cafe to check our e-mails and see if there is an alternate to expensive ferry monopoly as far as inter-island transport (there isn't). We crossed the island, camped on top of an abandoned one-story concrete building with a puddle of water dripping through the roof. To get onto the roof, we had to use a rusty bed spring frame as a ladder.

Once we got up there we lit some candles, ate our food, split 2 bottles of tequila and had a rapping/beat boxing session. Before we went to sleep, we all made predictions of who would wake up with the most mosquito bites, since we were sleeping next to standing water and had a pretty intense bug problem.

Day 3 - Sunday, June 15, 2008

Woke up to everyone laughing at Deja whose eyes had swollen to slits and had a lip that looked like it had undergone a cheap collagen injection from her bug bites:

Everyone else had a few bites, but I'm pretty sure she won. We walked down to the becah and spent all day sitting around. At one point, Karli, Sebastian, Adam and I rented a Zodiac boat and drove around the island.


We said bye to Josh and Elyssa and went back to the main city/club part of the island to wait for our ferry to Mallorca. We wandered around for a while, lost Alex, and then got a 6€ beer since everything on Ibiza is expensive. While we were drinking, this woman who Deja saw doing coke in the bathroom and her equally drugged boyfriend sat at the table next to us (with their dog). I then realized everyone on Ibiza is on drugs pretty much all the time.

Day 4 - Monday, June 16, 2008

Took the 1:30am ferry to Palma de Mallorca and managed to somehow get in early (at 6am) so we didn't get the best night's sleep. We went to breakfast and then wandered around while Alex slept on a bench in the train station because she wasn't feeling well. (Probably heat exhaustion from the day before.)

Then, we took a bus across the island to Alcúdia to catch another ferry and got some Tex-Mex food at a mediocre restaurant where every item on the menu has a random US city or state tacked o0no to end of its name (think Burger Oregon).

We caught our ferry (which entailed retreiving Alex from under the bridge where she had been sleeping all day and then immediately going to hell and back to find the ferry office), missed the last bus to Sant Tomás (where Marc and Ross were), caught a bus to a closer city, took a cab, and hiked in the dark for at least an hour to get to their camp site. We had a fire.

Day 5 - Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Our beach:


Woke up on the beach and decided to walk into town to get coffee and more food. We went back and went swimming/snorkeling and Ross talked me into climbing the rocks to jump off, which was a bad idea since the rocks were ridiculously sharp and hard to climb.

Then i sat on the becah all day and read. Eventually, the rest of the group made a shelter since they were all really sunburnt and wanted shade in which to drink their tequila (sombrero, scarf, and mustache included on the bottle) while I sat in the sun and read more.

We made another fire and then ate dinner and went to sleep.

Day 6 - Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Crazy blue Menorca sea:


Marc and Ross left before the rest of us got up to catch their boat back to Barcelona. Then, we woke up and hiked to Sant Tomás and got coffee until it was time to catch the bus to Mahón (where mayonnaise was invented AND where the airport is). While killing time in Mahón we went to the gin distillery and had some free samples.


Our flight was roughly 9 million years late and then the Barcelona Nit bus system kind of let us down but we got home eventually and showered and by the time I got in bed (roughly 4:30am) I literally said out loud: "Oh my God, a real bed," before falling asleep.

Fireworks

Apparently there is a holiday celebrated in Barcelona (Sant Joan, June 23) that involves launching a ton of fireworks. Unlike the United States, Spain doesn't seem to have "disturbing the peace" laws and launching said fireworks weeks before this holiday is completely legal. As a result, there are constant fireworks in the street these days, especially in the alley outside my window.

People in the street hand out catalogs of available fireworks and patrons can go into any firework distributor and buy whatever their heart desires (as long as they are over the age of 14). Yesterday, Marc and Ross bought some poppers and other little kid fireworks and the clerk was sure they didn't know what they were buying. She informed them that the fireworks in question were "very small."

So, not only are fireworks completely legal, but launching them at all hours of the night is completely fine, AND the clerks encourage you to buy large and noisy fireworks. I need to get away. I was raised in a household where noise-emitting toys were never allowed and I don't do well with loud noises. This is my hell.

South of France

I recently visited the South of France with my childhood friend, Courtney. This is us when we were younger:


We started in Lyon, then took trains to Avignon, Aix-en-Provence, Marseille, Beziers, Montpellier, Toulouse, and Carcassonne. I took a bunch of notes as things happened, but they aren't that interesting. The only important highlights are: we ate a lot of cheese, drank a lot of wine, smelled a lot of lavender and bought comical postcards we never sent.

Piso Photos

I took some photos around my apartment this weekend while I was procrastinating (I really didn't want to work on my essay):


A polaroid of one of Rosé's daughters from when she was younger, from our fridge


A succulent in front of our toaster


Flowers on the porch


The kitchen


The kitchen from the living room


My bed (I accidentally put my finger over the flash)


My desk


Weird


Fake Flowers

Internet

Throughout the year, I've been mooching wireless internet off my neighbors, but every few weeks they change their wireless service so I occasionally have to suffer through a day without internet. For the past week, I haven't had internet and it doesn't look like it's coming back. This is extremely upsetting for me, since I can't illegally download my favorite TV shows or communicate with friends from home anymore. I've temporarily resorted to checking my e-mail in a nearby plaza that has really crappy internet but it's just not the same as lying in bed watching America's Next Top Model. The plaza is also pretty unfriendly to those using it for anything other than hanging out and drinking beer/smoking pot. Dirty hippies keep walking by and giving me a look that says "Up yours, get your recently showered ass out of our plaza, and don't forget your computer on your way out." So I should probably go back home and get in bed and read a book or something. It's just not the same.

Granada

I'm in Granada for the weekend visiting Matt (my friend from Cádiz) and so far it's been really fun. Last night we went out and ended up staying up all night and getting schwarma at 5am (after running around in the rain and me eating it).

Cruise: For Ross

I recently got back from a cruise with my dad through Croatia, Turkey, and Greece. As an experienced cruiser (not to be confused with "cruise folk," the strange people who take cruises regularly and have adapted their lifestyles so the cruise is their ideal atmosphere), I boarded the boat knowing more or less what to expect. However, my world was flipped upside down when I realized that the hand-sanitizer stations in every room of the boat (and on the docks when we left the boat) were new and unfamiliar. Apparently, the cruise companies have decided they are going to show their customers how they battle disease to avoid an E. Coli outbreak. Unluckily, their hand-sanitizer guards (people who force you to put on the hand-sanitizer in case you don't do it voluntarily) and tongs (used to pick up things like pre-packaged butter and other foodstuffs) were extremely over the top and annoying. By the end of the cruise, I contemplated licking a piece of bread and putting it back in the bread pile in front of a tong guard to see what my punishment would be.

Our first stop was Dubrovnik, Croatia which is probably the smallest capital city in the world. It was extremely pretty, but the entire area could be explored in about twenty minutes. We drove outside of the city for a little while and saw a farming area that was completely flattened in 1991 during the war that they lack funding to rebuild. It was impressive how little was there, but it was still really pretty.

Next, we went to Ephesus, Turkey which was amazing since it has stayed so well preserved in the last 5000 years. The entire time, our tour guide seemed to be pitching the idea that we should love Muslim people. He spent the majority of the tour explaining how much Muslims love Jesus.

After Turkey, we went to Santorini, Greece which is a small town on the top of a mountain. It was one of the most beautiful places I've been. It's main problem was that it's on a giant hill, and everything has to be towed up by donkeys, so a cup of coffee costs roughly 10€.

Finally, we went to Corfu and saw the Achillion. Greece in general has really blue water that looks like someone put a bunch of blue food coloring in it (like they do at Disney Land) which was probably my favorite part.

There is assigned seating at dinner every night, so you always get to sit with the same people! At the end of the cruise, you can order an 8x10 glossy with you and your table-mates. 3 of our table-mates never showed. One was a woman from Michigan named Daryl traveling by herself (one night she got drunk and sang "Desperado" at karaoke) and a couple named Dave and Annie from Seattle. They initially seemed like cruise folk, but turned out to be pretty cool. Dave got mad at the cruise and filled out 8 comment cards (including one where he called the cruise director a "bitch" resulting in her phoning his stateroom and explaining why she is not a bitch - he wrote his name and room number on each card) and him telling us about his rant was pretty funny. They almost crossed the line and became creepy when they told me I could stay with them if I ever come to Seattle, but I'm going to just forget that ever happened.

I never win anything in my life, but on the cruise I managed to with a Sudoku Tournament! It was very exciting. I also got to play a lot of Bingo (which I did not win) and watch a lot of bad karaoke. It was all very exciting.

Lucid Dream Locura

Since I'm sick, I now have plenty of time to stay in bed all day doing nothing. I've been passing a lot of time alternating between assuring Rosé I'm getting better and napping. Today during my nap, I had a lucid dream, which was really cool:

It started with my brother, my friend Courtney and me at a baseball game. We were in the parking lot and to get into the stadium we had to either take a bus or take a theme park ride (this made perfect sense in the dream - it was one of those large boats that sways back and forth and eventually flips and even though you aren't strapped in you can't fall out) which wasn't attached to anything and did absurd hurricane moves instead of just going back and forth. When I got off, I was instantly drunk and ran into a giant sign.

For some reason, I got tele-ported back to my apartment in Barcelona, where Rosé was making a ton of pastries. She was having me hold some cookie dough and I ended up dropping it on the ground and she threw it away and then started going through all of her cupboards talking about how she has no food and no money to buy food.

Then, I was back at the baseball game, but it was just three big-screens of baseball games and all my favorite teams were playing and winning by at least 40 points. Then, I ran outside and started explaining (in Spanish) the theme park ride we took to this man who was sitting at a bus stop. I was trying to remember all this jargon from high school physics and then translating it when I stopped and looked around at the city (suddenly I was in Los Angeles). I turned to Price (who was suddenly there) and said something like "Isn't it crazy that we made all of this?" And then I thought to myself "How did I get here? I don't remember taking that miserably long plane ride back," and realized it was a dream.

Then I decided I wanted to fly, so I ran and jumped a few times and started flying into this giant zoo. Then my dad, step-mom and Price and I started playing in the zoo. This bear tried to get me to come hang out with him and his bear friends but his nails were really long and he insisted on holding my hand so I ditched him to go hang out with some raccoons. As I played with this baby raccoon, his ears got longer and softer which was weird. Then, my dad came running around the corner of the raccoon section yelling "Go! Go! Go!" I asked him what was going on and told him to stop ruining my dream. He told me Price was getting in trouble and we should all run away. I went out to look for Price and Albert Einstein was going through his wallet and robbing him. So I beat up Albert Einstein. And then I woke up.

Sick

Yesterday I decided not to go to class because I hate my Shakespeare and film class and am still struggling with the concept of learning English from someone who speaks worse English than I do. So, I decided to stay home and watch bad television on the internet instead.

Fate or God or whoever was not okay with this and decided to give me the flu. So, I've spent the last two days in bed unable to move or eat anything while pretty consistently feeling more dehydrated than I've been in my life. I've spent the last 24 hours alternating between watching Grey's Anatomy, taking cat naps, and reading a really bad book.

Luckily, I'm just now starting to get my appetite back but I'm still to weak to go out to the store on my own (I walked a block today to buy a bottle of water and almost passed out). But luckily Marc brought me bananas and apple flavored baby food (the closest thing they have to apple sauce, apparently) and I've managed to get a couple bites down, so that's pretty good. Knock on wood.

Today before Rosé (whose name is apparently spelled Roser but I think that looks weird) left for work she informed me that until I get better, she'll be my mamá.

Morocco

I just got back from five days in Marrakech and Fes. Since it's pretty boring to go through and explain every detail from my trip, here are some highlights:

In Marrakech, there is a huge plaza where street vendors and performers hang out. You can buy fresh squeezed orange juice for 3 Dirham. To give you an idea of how cheap this is, a US Dollar costs around 7 Dirham and a Euro is about 11.

Food in Morocco is amazing. They only have a few dishes they offer: Tajines (a bowl of meat and vegetables), Cous Cous (a bowl of meat and vegetables over cous cous) and desserts (such as orange slices with banana and cinnamon). This is actually perfect, because you run no risk of getting something weird and these dishes are pretty much the same everywhere.

In both cities, but especially Fes, people will try to help you find your way then demand money. Usually they don't actually know where your destination is, but they will walk with you for a few blocks, inform you that where you want to go is "closed," and then force you to give them money.

We went to a Jewish synagogue in Fes where an old man gave us a tour in French. We don't speak French. Mostly he just pointed at photos on the wall and talked about them (in French, of course) really slowly until we smiled and nodded.

There don't seem to be pay phones in Morocco, but there was an entire park devoted to free internet in Marrakech. The park is giant and has stands every few hundred feet where people could check their e-mail. Finding a free stand is difficult.

On our second day in Marrakech we ended up walking really far away from the city's center. While wandering around, we walked past two teenage boys. One of them tried to grab my crotch. He failed, and I don't really understand the etiquette for that, so I let it slide.

Everyone has donkeys. And Crocs.

In the square where one can purchase orange juice, they also have dried fruit stands. One of the more unique items is a giant banana necklace.

Snake charmers DO exist.

Children think it's really fun to run up to you and say "Bonjour," especially in Fes.

When people would figure out that we were from the US, they would tell us how much they like Barack Obama.

Marc successfully showered without taking off his sweatpants. Apparently, he only washed his hair and doesn't understand why this is weird.

Overall, Morocco was an extremely cheap and interesting country. I think of it as Mexico but better. I might need to move to Fes.

Catalán is Everywhere

I found this in the entryway to my apartment building.

Chupitos

As part of my solo weekend, I gathered a group of people to go to a bar near me called Chupitos (translation: shots) since I have only been once and have never actually gotten a drink there. The concept behind this bar is you mostly buy shots because they are cheaper, and tend to be comprised of various liqueurs and are served in creative and delicious ways. For example, I had a "Harry Potter Chupito," which consisted of an orange slice, covered in sugar, and cooked with a flame thrower over an extremely sweet shot. I also had a "Boy Scout Chupito," which involves them making a small fire on the counter which you roast a marshmellow over before taking a shot.

This bar is notorious for their "Monica Lewinsky Chupito," which they try to trick new-comers into getting. I'm not going to go into details, but I witnessed a girl in my program taking a Monica Lewinsky a couple months ago on her birthday and it was not pleasant.

Overall, Chupitos was cool but kind of nauseating since everything (including all the mixed drinks) had SO much sugar in it.

Picnic

As part of my solo weekend, I decided to branch out and hang out with friends I don't see that often. So, I bought a bottle of wine and some cheese and went out to the park by Sagrada Familia to hang out with Ryan and Meika (some friends from Cádiz who I don't see that often).

After hacking at the wine cork for about thirty minutes with a pen, then almost successfully pushing the cork into the bottle with a Chapstick, a random Russian man took it upon himself to help me out so I didn't even get the satisfaction of conquering the bottle. Throughout the entire process, a middle-aged woman watched my every move from a neighboring bench. It was a lot of pressure.

Toward the end of our mini-meal, Ryan pointed out a couple making out a few benches over. The woman was showing of her stomach by pulling up her pink t-shirt while mounting her incredibly dirty-looking boyfriend. After watching them for a few minutes, we were disgusted enough to go home.

On my walk out of the metro, I passed an old man who barked at me, then stopped walking for a moment so I would be walking several feet in front of him. I think that means we're dating now, or something.

My Solo Weekend

This weekend, Ross, Marc and Joanna are all out of town on vacation. So, I am trying to come up with things to entertain myself and am going to hopefully have some new adventures? Mostly, I'm going to have a lot of spare time on my hands, so I'll probalby be blogging more than usual, but about less interesting events.

Hugo

Today I played tennis with a new guy named Hugo. He's a British student from Cambridge spending his third year in Barcelona working and studying linguistics on his own. He told me early on in our game that he is more of a soccer player, and then used every opportunity possibly to try to juggle the ball with his feet (e.g. after faulting on the first serve, instead of just picking up a second ball, he insisted on playing with it with his feet for a few seconds first).

I know that I am not by any means the fashion police, but Hugo was wearing this ridiculous white polo (VERY RETRO) with rainbow stripes, and a red headband. He is extremely pasty and was showing off his legs in a pair of black shorts with a white stripe around the bottom the emphasized that the shorts were actually wedged up into his crotch. The few times he actually picked up a ball with his hands, he would bend over right in front of me (usually on changeovers) with his butt facing me so I could see his really bad underwear lines from his tighty-whities.

Regardless of the fact that he was arguably the most awkward person I have met in Barcelona thus far, in his defense he didn't ask me out (see Tennis Joe) and actually beat me 10-8, 6-3.

Another Tennis Joe Update

I just received ANOTHER text from Tennis Joe:

Between 4:45 or 5pm.ok?what did u do yesterday?

I want him to leave me alone.

Tennis Joe Update

This just in:

Hey!i asked u to hang out yesterday cause i had some free time.i went with a friend.would like change.can we play on thursday instead wed?thanks.

Tennis Joe

Recently, I have been taking advantage of the Barcelona Tennis website by sending out mass e-mails detailing dates and times I am available to play. Through my new method, I have met a short, Peruvian man named Joe. After canceling several times due to illness, we finally played a couple weeks ago and were pretty closely matched so have played again since then.

When we play, we mostly speak English because he likes the practice. I'm probably the worst person to practice English with since I never correct him (he says things like "I don't want to be too gossip, but what is your um..." when asking about my rent).

Each time I meet up with him I realize something new and strange about him. On the metro home last week, I realized he has a coke pinkie nail. A couple times ago, I noticed his strange patchy chest hair that shows through his v-neck jerseys he plays in. I initially guessed he was in his mid to late-30s but it turns out he's 28. He is also shorter than me.

Today I received a text message from him saying:

"Hi Hillary!ive seenur email.would like play this wed.r u up 4 drink or eat someth.later?Horton is another option.tickets go on me.just do 1 missed call.joe"

I think he's asking me out? I am not okay with this. We are exclusively tennis partners and being asked out by short, hispanic men has secretly been by biggest fear with the tennis website up to this point (especially after I played a Spanish man who thought it was funny to hit me in the back with spare balls when I was walking to the baseline). The fact that I only semi-understand his text message really doesn't help. I know Horton refers to the new animated English movie I have no desire to see, but "1 missed call"? Why would I do 1 missed call? As much as I want to get to the bottom of this, I now want to change phone numbers and avoid seeing him for the rest of my time here. Luckily, he isn't a member at the tennis club.

Bilbao

Since I'm too lazy to blog, what happens in Bilbao now stays in Bilbao. Unless you read Joanna's blog.

Dublin

Since I'm bad at remembering back to things that have happened over vacations, I decided to just type up my notes from our Dublin trip (as you can see, they are very incomplete):

Day 1 - Joanna pops foot blister in airport using pen and Chapstick while waiting for plane.

Joanna and I take bus to city center (14€) to learn our hotel is not in city center. Take cab ride from nice but scary black man who doesn't know where our hotel actually is but finds it somehow (34€) even though hotel receptionist doesn't answer phone. TV in hotel doesn't work. Joanna and I establish Ireland is Leprochan conspiracy. Also - threw up at Girona airport and we are starving at this point but there are no vending machines in our hotel (a Comfort Inn, interestingly enough).

Day 2 - Museum of Ireland, gardens, McCafé, BAGELS (a delicacy not offered in Spain), and Temple Bar where we met Sebastiano (a German DHL engineer) and John Wayne (a drunk Irish man who told us about his time in Boston - which mostly consisted of him having a bad haircut and buying lots of drugs).

Day 3 - Rain/Paradise Hotel/Tommy Boy/Guinness

Day 4 - Stag's Head, Fish n Chips. One night we took the bus too far. The driver drove us back to our hotel.

Day 5 - Joanna and I get stuck waiting for parade behind Illinois folk who use charming catchphrases like: "Look at that Dutchish façade."

Overall, Dublin was fun and the people are wonderful. It's basically a cheaper, more friendly version of England.

Top Ramen

A couple weeks ago, I found "Noodles of the Orient" at my local grocery store. It looked exactly like Top Ramen, so I bought a couple packs and brought them home to cook them. I was making the first pack and following the directions on the package, which involved adding a tablespoon of salt. I felt like this was more salt than necessary (especially since I don't remember ever having to add salt back in the US) so I just added a teaspoon. The broth was so salty I couldn't drink it without gagging.

Today, I decided to prepare the other package (a more familiar chicken flavored ramen) and was reading the instructions and realized I was instructed to add Olive Oil, NOT salt. In Spanish, those words aren't even similar (aceite vs. sal). Thank God I'm not a chef.

Bad at Blogging

Today I realized that I haven't blogged in a while, but it's not because my life is so chock-full of action that I can't find a spare second to blog, trust me. Mostly, my internet has been sporadically broken and I don't really do anything new these days. BUT Spring Break (or Semana Santa if you live here) is next week and we're going to Dublin for St. Patrick's Day and then Bilbao and Basque Country for another mini-vacation. So, hopefully, things will happen and blogs will ensue.

Grácia Day

This morning I was trying to snooze through my alarm clock when a parade decided to go down my street, pelting people with candy. Apparently it's some saint's day and they only celebrate it in my neighborhood. And by celebrate I mean throw candy at innocent bystanders while riding by on horses and playing drums.

Overall, it's pretty amusing because there are piles of multicolored candy everywhere (there seems to be only one supplier who just makes run-of-the-mill hard candies in colored wrappers) and everyone's shoes stick to the ground for the rest of the day because of all the sugar melted to the street. I thought this festival was more of a morning thing (just to wake up the citizens of Grácia) but it's currently 8:30pm and it seems to be the climax of the parade (more horses and music, more cheering, etc.).

Today I decided to take a stand against unemployment and tried to get a job as a babysitter/English teacher for this really adorable family who lives near me. It works perfectly with my schedule and I really like the kids, but Barcelona hates me (based on how, during my apartment hunt, I'm apparently the last person anyone wants in their house). I find out by tomorrow morning if I got it. I may have won some points by being named Hillary, though, because the 8 year-old boy loves Hilary Duff.

Kike

We have a club promoter here named Kike who constantly e-mails all of us. His arch-nemesis is a fellow promoter with the same name but spelled differently: Kyke. (Pronounced Key-Kay for both) They've been around since fall, but I just got an invitation to one of their birthday parties ("CELEBRATE KIKE") and decided to share.

My Magical Day Continued

After missing my class earlier today (see George blog), I decided to leave my room for a little while and go grab some coffee with Marc. I ended up leaving my apartment at the same time as Rosé who was on her way to work finally (5pm). On the stairs, I made some small talk, and told her I was on my way to get coffee with a friend.

When we got downstairs, I introduced her to Marc who may very well be one of the worst people at coming up with things to say to people he doesn't know (not to mention that she was standing on the side of his deaf ear so he had no idea what she was saying or that she was even talking to him). After her making a joke about coming to get coffee with us (which he didn't hear), she decided to just stop walking and stand in the middle of the street waiting for us to walk away. Marc didn't understand what was going on and looked back at her - she was just starting at us. Then, instead of going straight to the coffee shop, Marc pushed me down a random side-street beacuse he was uncomfortable but it was coincidentally the same street she needed to go down to get work. The entire thing was gut-wrenchingly awkward. Esepecially since Rosé and I don't really talk that much so we won't be able to laugh about this later.

I also just found out/realized a lot of my friends aren't going to be coming home from school this summer so I probably won't be seeing much of them, which is really too bad. I'll write another entry if anything life-altering takes place in the next few hours.

Idiota

So far this semester I had made it to all of my classes. Last night I read some more of Don Quijote (even though I hate it) because I was planning on going to class today. For some mysterious reason, my alarm went off at noon (class starts at 11:30am) and I was initially pretty annoyed that my newfound life of actually attending class was obviously coming to an end. Now that I don't have my perfect attendance record, I feel less inclined to go to every single class.

I pulled a full on George Costanza (blamed my oversleeping on God - he only believes in God for the bad things), but then I realized that this entire thing is my fault. Yesterday morning my alarm went off at 10am and I decided I wanted another hour of sleep, so I reset it to 11am, then reset it to noon an hour later.

The bright side of all this is I now have more time to sit around and finish my book, and drink some tea. The down-side is that Rosé apparently never goes to work anymore and being home all day is way less pleasant if you aren't alone. Her computer is broken so she now spends all her time in the TV/common area of the apartment, slowly turning into the Spanish equivalent of a midwestern couch potato.

Natural Beauty

Today I consumed at least 3 cups of coffee. Maybe more, but it's possible I forgot about them from caffeine-overload-induced-blackouts or something.

Cup 1: Lunchtime coffee (my usual 1 cup for the day).

Cup 2: Pool game coffee. Usually I have beer during pool games, but, due to mini-lent I had to select a new beverage. This cup was a little colder than I like my coffee to be, but it had chocolate flakes on top to compensate for the tepid milk. I was walking to Joanna's afterwards, and I passed someone who may have been a homeless man. He said something to me in Catalan, and I had no idea what he was talking about. 9 times out of 10, if someone speaks to me in Catalan, I will know what they are saying based on A. the situation, or B. the fact that they are saying something extremely basic/asking me for a cigarette while acting out smoking. I told him "No entiendo," and he followed me, repeating what he was saying. Luckily, I was only 10 feet away from Joanna's apartment at this point. As I opened the door to her building, I resorted to saying "What?" on the off-chance that he spoke English. He motioned to his lip and said "Is that a piercing or is that natural?" Since my lip is NOT pierced, I said "It's natural..." and he responded with "Oh. You're very beautiful." I nodded and just walked away unsure of what he was talking about. When I got into Joanna's elevator, I looked in the mirror and saw that I had a piece of chocolate stuck to my face above my lip. I wiped it off, so I guess I'm not beautiful anymore. Sigh.

Cup 3: Joanna and I had the genius idea of going to a café and getting some reading done. We ended up just drinking coffee and going back to our apartments to read (which I'm obviously not doing right now, so that fell through).

What's strange about all this, is after all that coffee now I just want to take a nap.

Plant

Rosé has this disgusting plant in the bathroom right above the sink that literally smells like a 90-year-old man's anus. Not that I would know what that smells like firsthand, but I'm assuming it's something like this plant. The worst part of this is, when I brush my teeth, my mouth tastes like mint, so I can smell things VERY distinctly.

As a result, I have to inhale the smell of anus at least twice a day. Even if I step away from the sink for the actual brushing, as long as I am still in the bathroom I can still smell it. I'm waiting for it to die, but it's been going strong since at least September, and I'm pretty sure this f-ing flora is going to outlive me.

Facebook

My little sister, Brett, now has Facebook. She's 10. My family is taking it upon themselves to take over the site, apparently. Now my mom, brother and sister all have Facebook. There's only one sibling left.

Mini-Lent

Ross and I decided to give up drinking for a little while - not because we have evolved into miserable, homeless alcoholics or anything like that, but because we end up spending a lot of money on going out for beers when we should be coming up with better things to do. Initially, we were going to give up drinking for Lent, but then I realized that St. Patrick's Day and Lent don't work well together, and since I'm going to Dublin in March, it's probably not going to happen.

Now, we have invented mini-Lent, and are not drinking until St. Patrick's Day. We're already experiencing effects: we don't really care that it's the weekend, and are being extremely productive. It's horrible.

Carnival

I went back to Cádiz for carnival this weekend. Carnival was really cool, they wear these really bizarre disguises and you and your friends are supposed to have matching costumes. They find it hilarious for men to dress as women. ESPECIALLY if fake breasts are involved.

Initially, I felt like a little kid in a candy shop - going back to Cádiz was fun and it made me pretty nostalgic for summer. But, by the middle of the night (our train back wasn't until 5am) I felt like I was in some sort of apocalyptic disaster where everyone had whistles and noise-makers. As someone who was raised in an essentially noise-free household (my mom hates sound), I wasn't doing too well with the noises. Also, as the Spaniards got drunker, the men who are typically pretty respectful adopted tendencies of the average construction worker without the consequences of being maced/sued.

We went back to the Residencia a few times to visit it and use the bathroom, and were considering taking a picture inside when we were asked to leave. The doorman recognized us as people who don't live there. At this point, I was ready to go back to Barcelona. I had fun, but it's nice to be back.

Hostel Life

For the first time in my Euro-tripping experience I'm staying in a real, live Hostel. Up to this point, we've gotten by with budget hotels and bumming off our friends who live in the cities we visit.

Right now I'm in Sevilla getting ready to go back to Cadiz for carnival on Saturday and we're staying in this hostel I found online. Last night, it took me about three hours to fall asleep since my bed was right next to the door and I could hear every conversation happening in the lobby. By the time I managed to pass out, someone tried to bang down the door so I had to get up and let them in. Turns out, this British guy had shown up around 1 in the morning and wanted a room so they stuck him with us. After seeing what the setup would be (Joanna, him and me) he went back into the lobby to complain. I listened to him tell the hostel worker how "unpleased" I looked to see him, and argue his way into a different room.

Meanwhile, Joanna ran around the room stuffing her things into her suitcase and locking it, sure that this guy was going to steal all of her valuables and make a run for the border. This morning when we woke up, he wasn't in our room because he had moved upstairs. We got to eat breakfast with him, though, which could have been potentially awkward but it turns out his friend was in another room so he had an actual reason for wanting to switch.

Some good things about hostel life:

- FREE coffee machine

- Cheap

- Comfy beds

Some bad things about hostel life:

- No hot water in the sink in our room

- One shower/toilet for about 20 people

- Korean girls who run into your room in the middle of the night screaming and looking for other Korean girls. They also do their laundry in the sink of the bathroom that everyone has to use.

All in all, it's great.

Cleaning Lady

The cleaning lady comes twice a month and I'm pretty sure she's actually a retarded person that Rosé takes pity upon and pays to hang out in our apartment for a few hours here and there. Usually she just mops the floors over and over again and then yells at Caco (the dog) as he runs across them, falling down and making them muddy.

Rosé has coordinated her schedule with the cleaning lady's so they are never there at the same time, but I'm ALWAYS there since I'm less included in this coordination process. Basically, this means that I constantly walk into the kitchen holding a water-free mug with a teabag in it, then look at the disassembled stove that is undergoing her "cleaning" process and just mumble something incoherent and to back to my room. Tea-less.

Caco and I don't like her very much. She used to be on my better side back when she would make my bed but now she just mops my floor which may or may not make it dirtier than it was before she showed up and then goes on her merry way to inhabiting the rest of the house so I'm banished to my room. I'm coping with it.

My Life

For the first time since starting classes in Cádiz I feel like I actually have no responsibilities now that finals are over. So, I've been spending a lot of time sitting around my apartment and watching Nip/Tuck and other TV shows that can be found on the internet (e.g. "True Life: I'm Happy and Fat"). Last night, Ross and I decided to go on a walk up behind his house so we snuck out and ended up walking through the woods. It ended up being a pretty good adventure and we saw a sign advertising "Esquaix," which took me a while to figure out. (IX is pronounced SH in Catalán, so it says "Esquash" as in squash.)

Walking around in the middle of the night was probably not the best idea ever, but Ross apparently knew where he was going and it all worked out fine. On the way back to my house I saw this window full of plants that I've never seen before because I'm always looking down to make sure I don't step in dog poop. Today I went back and took a photo of it:


The other day I was telling Zoe about how when you're in Spain you have to adapt your taste in music with your taste in fashion and everything else. My example of this was that I was listening to E-40 (I was a little homesick) on my iPod and walking to the beat and I kept almost trampling small children, dogs, etc. Then, I switched the music to Mika (VERY popular here) and walking to the beat of Mika actually worked, and I managed to not run into anything. Videos of my Spanish walk versus Bay Area walk to come.

Semester One Reflections

First of all, I'm done. So for all you people who aren't done yet, that totally sucks. I was like you once. And then I took my last final and spent all day holed up in my room finishing my essay and now I'm free. It's amazing.

Semester One Reflections:

I went to every single class one week of the entire semester.

My classes kind of sucked and were really long and painful to sit through.

I asked what the word "solipsism" meant on my final today (answering a really stupid prompt on Rip Van Winkle) and was told that I was supposed to know that term. That teacher sucked.

Today I finished for the semester and it was amazing.

That's about it. I'm now on vacation until February 4th. Because we didn't just have Christmas break or anything.

The Final Stretch

I have one more final to go at this point (and a paper to write, but I'm pretending it doesn't exist right now) and it's getting really hard to stay focused to finish studying. I'm going to be so happy when this semester is over. All I have left right now is my Intro to US Lit class (English) so hopefully I pass that one, or that's pretty humiliating.

And Then There Were 70-Something People Minus One

I have now been in Spain for roughly five months, Barcelona for four, and up to this point no one has permanently left or been sent home. But tomorrow this will change.

A girl in my program is being sent home, and initially we didn't know what happened to her. It started circulating that she was leaving and we all assumed she got caught smoking pot or something (especially since I read the EAP rulebook to see what she could have done to be asked to leave).

The other night she came and hung out with us and told us why she's leaving. There was a "Welcome The New Abroad Students" party at a club on the beach last week and she decided to go with some of our friends. She ended up getting really drunk and splitting off from the group. She left the "Dance Floor" area and headed to the "VIP Seating" area to meet some new people. She met a group of French boys who were all ganging up on this one guy, calling him gay. She started taunting him as well and asking him things like "What, you don't like girls?"

He took her hand and started to lead her toward what she thought was the dance floor. He was pretty cute, so she was fine with dancing with him. He ended up pulling her into the bathroom and raping her - during which she lost her coat check card that she was keeping in her tights.

He left, and the club closed and she had no way of getting her coat back. She went back to the French boys and asked them if they knew where their friend was, since she thought he might have her coat check card. It turns out that they had just been talking to him because they were all French, but they weren't actually friends. Luckily, the French boys were willing to help her out and got her coat back for her. Since she didn't have money for a cab, they offered to let her come stay at their hostel for the night. Which she did.

Three days later, after having multiple threesomes with the French boys (turns out they are brothers who had immigrated to the United States and went to Cornell), she decided to go home.

All the things that had happened over the last few days caught up with her and she was extremely depressed. She ended up taking 33 Valium (since 33 is her favorite number) and chasing them with half a bottle of gin. She passed out for two days and then fell out of her bed, waking herself up.

She went downstairs and talked to her roommates for a little while, and messaged one of her friends. A couple of her friends came over and one took her to the hospital where she drank two liters of Charcoal (the blood stabilizer for when things like this happen) and then was checked into the psyche ward for two days.

They let her go, but our program director decided it would be best if she went home. So, she called her dad who wired her $2000 to buy a plane ticket, found a ticket for $1000 and went on a shopping spree (where she bought a D&G jacket, a Tous bag, a couple piercings, etc.). Later that night she called her dad and asked him for more money and went on another shopping spree the following day.

She's been with us since Cádiz, so it's really strange to be losing her, but it's probably best she goes home at this point.

Brett

A lot of you don't really know my family. This video of my little sister at the airport pretty much sums her up.

Finals

Right now I'm about halfway through my finals. Here, you get three hours for finals but you really only need about twenty minutes. Yesterday I missed the excursion to Montserrat (some mountains near here) and Codorniu (a winery that produces cava) because we would have gotten back at 6pm and I had a final that started right then. Arguably, I could have just been late for my final but they frown upon that here. Weird.

All finals are held in these special classrooms that I've never actually had class in, where the seats are actually benches with dividers (think old school church pews but less comfortable) probably so you'll be as miserable as humanly possible. That's the only possible explanation.

Insomnia Update

Now, instead of not being able to fall asleep at night, my body is doing this new really hilarious thing (it loves playing tricks on me, it has a great sense of humor) where this morning it woke up at 7am and wouldn't let me go back to sleep (even though I didn't go to sleep until after 3am).

This is how people with infants must feel. Only they get to blame it on something instead of lying awake with their eyes hurting from lack of sleep for no apparent reason.

Insomnia

I've had a really hard time sleeping lately and I think it has to do with the fact that my newest hobby is to sit around and think of completely ridiculous hypothetical situations that will never happen to me and how I would confront them. For example, if I became a singer/dancer/actress (known as a "triple threat" in the biz), how would I deal with the paparazzi? Would I ever stoop so low as to accept money from them to let them into my hotel room/house/etc. as an alternate source of income?

I had a final today at 3pm but I had to go to school at 11am for office hours (which involves waking up at 10am). So, last night, I got in bed at 1am, tried to fall asleep, and was up until 4am. I just found out that my last final (a week from tomorrow) is at 8:30am. I'm screwed.

Even though I really enjoy that school is such a joke here and they expect next to nothing out of you, I'm starting to miss actually learning things that you may be able to bring up in a normal conversation (instead of a conversation about how Latin evolved into medieval Spanish) and having some sense of accomplishment at the end of finals. Instead, I just feel like I completed some sort of day-camp.

If you have access to Zoe's blog, you should go read it right now, it's hilarious. If you don't have access, you should friend her on Facebook and harass her until she gives it to you.

Vall D'Hebron

Today I went to the Vall D'Hebron tennis club because I was supposed to play this British guy (Chris) who never actually showed up.

When I got there, there was a huge gathering of 30-something year-old guys who were probably arranging some sort of tournament. I made my way to the bathroom, since I have no idea what Chris looks like and didn't want to creepily loiter outside the group of guys.

At the tennis club, the bathrooms only have one stall, and the women's room was occupied. Since I had time to kill, and the men's room is gross, I decided to wait. In the time I spent waiting, three guys managed to use the men's room. There wasn't a line or anything - a guy would use the restroom, leave, a few minutes would pass and another guy would come in and use the restroom.

I had already tried the door so whoever was in there knew I was waiting and was intentionally pacing herself. After what felt like half an hour, a really gross couple comes out of the bathroom together. By really gross, I mean some young girl (she looked about fifteen) and her male tennis coach (who looked about fifty).

After I got stood up by Chris, I was leaving the tennis club and saw them playing paddle (this bizarre cross between tennis and badminton that only exists in Cataluña) and him yelling at her about her strategy. Strategizing in paddle and getting mad about other peoples' strategies is the equivalent of training for ping-pong.

Stye Update

If I did have a stye, it's gone now. I had it for about 24 hours and it never got that big so I'm pretty sure it was just allergies and not a stye. Phew.

Also, Edward, I don't know if we ever discussed the Ricky Martin "She Bangs" video, but I feel so honored that it reminds me of you. Supposedly he got to pick what went in the video and REALLY wanted a box of naked people that he could dance on top of. He's so amazing.

And Zoe, if you're going to go online to read my blog and comment on it, then you should update your own, damnit. Don't make me unfriend you on Facebook.

Sorry for all the people who aren't Zoe and Edward. This blog was probably really boring for you. You should scroll down and read about Ross.

Some Ross Anecdotes

When Ross was in elementary school, he was lining up to go in after recess and tapped the girl in front of him on the shoulder (coincidentally the girl he liked) then vomited as she turned around. He had peed his pants earlier that week.

Ross peed in a bottle once while driving (he was in the car alone) by putting the car on cruise control and steering with his knees.

Today Ross asked Marc "Would you rather lose your testicles AND balls (I'm serious - he said this) or your penis? Like, if you had to get one chopped off?" And then, when Marc was unsure, told him that HE would chop off his penis because he "doesn't want to turn into a girl and you turn into a girl if you don't have your testicles."

We're about to go out, so more to come, I'm sure.

Stye?

Yesterday I was watching "Office Space" at Joanna's apartment and my eye started itching a lot. I ignored it, but by the time I got home I had developed a small bump on the edge of my eyelid. I assumed it was an allergic reaction to something, since my mom gets bumps on the inside of her eyelids all the time, but after Google-ing things all morning, I'm starting to suspect that it's a stye (which you can do nothing about aside from put a warm pack on it for 10 minute increments, four times each day).

I thought back to high school when a boy in my Spanish class had a really bad Stye - his turned red and was inflamed and obstructed his vision. You couldn't look at him without fixating on it. Mine is still borderline microscopic, but I'm terrified that it's going to grow into a massive blood-mound like his did.

I considered going to the Farmacia, but they can't really do anything about it; antibiotics are helpless when it comes to styes. It kind of hurts and I can feel it every time I blink. Apparently the last thing you're supposed to do is pop or touch it, so I'm going to just leave it alone I guess.

Life Update

I'm back in Barcelona.

I went and saw "The Darjeeling Limited," and it was really good. If you like Wes Anderson movies, you should probably see it.

"Juno" is one of my favorite movies now, but my standards might just be lowered since they tend to only bring cheesy Hollywood blockbusters to Spain, then dub them.

Wes (not Wes Anderson) is coming to visit me in less than a week.

I start finals soon.

I'm still taking the same classes I was before I left because of the semester system.

I'm still working on the whole "not being a hater" thing. It's going well.

Oh, Rosé

I got back to Barcelona last night and the first thing Rosé told me was "I thought you weren't coming back!" Apparently she thought I was only going home for a week, realized I took a GIANT suitcase and assumed I had left her forever (with some of my clothes and grocery store membership cards). I think she's excited to have me back.

Guess Who's Back?

ME! Almost. I'm in Frankfurt right now enjoying my 6 hour layover but I'll be in Barcelona tonight at 6pm.

So, if you're sitting at home constantly refreshing my blog waiting for this update, now you know.

New Year's Party

I spent my New Year's acting as a designated driver for my friends, which involved surrounding myself with obnoxious Tiburon kids while remaining completely sober. It's not as bad as it sounds. Especially since I'm working to be a more positive person.

My friend Kevin Wu got a little too drunk, and after almost starting fights over things he couldn't remember saying, he passed out with his head in his own lap for a little while.

We were at a friend's house, but his older sister (3 years older than us) had all her friends over as well. Instead of the two groups mixing fluidly, we were segregated in different sections of the house, and Kevin had passed out in their section.

The older kids (er, adults) wanted to make sure Kevin was okay, so they consistently poked him and tried to feed him water/give him bowls to vomit in/etc. When it was time to go, they were loudly yelling at him and trying to carry him, even though he was fully conscious and just wanted to be left alone. Once he got up and told them to "Get the fuck away" from him, they still followed him outside to make sure he didn't fall down the stairs or anything.

When we got to the car, they thanked us for coming and Kevin drunkenly turned around and responded: "Hey! How annoying were you guys?"

New Year's Resolution

My New Year's Resolution this year (with some help from Ross): Don't be a hater.

Some Mexican Conclusions

We got back from Mexico at 3 AM last night (really this morning, but it's kind of obnoxious when people say that). Overall the trip was really fun and I even managed to get sunburned (I blame the 8-year-old who was supposed to keep my back covered and missed two crucial chunks).

I realized that Mexico looks like what the Wild West must have looked like to the cowboys. Even though it's pretty in its own way, I have a really hard time imagining anyone deciding they want to risk their lives for something that barren because they think it's paradise. That's just me.

In Mexico, they put chili powder in all their packaged products. They carry Flaming-Hot Cheetos in most convenience stores (of course), but then they also sprinkle what appears to be pepper mixed with chili powder on their regular cheese-flavored Cheetos.

My Spanish in Mexico is more widely understood but I always use the wrong words (zumo vs. jugo, etc).

Rain in Mexico is way cooler than rain anywhere else in the world (except maybe Wyoming or Colorado or one of those states that looks like a greener version of Mexico) because they have SO much thunder and lightening, even if it's not raining that much.

Fruit in Mexico is bland and they don't think so. Their orange juice is light yellow.

Mexican people are less likely to congregate and aggressively play sports than American people. We went to the public tennis courts one day and they were all occupied by people in jeans who appeared to be dicking around (for several hours). Next to the tennis courts people were playing "volleyball" (throwing an inflatable light-weight ball from Toys R Us over a net and chasing it) and "basketball."

My mom decided to start stretching to make it look like she was an extremely intense athlete to pressure them into vacating the tennis courts. It didn't work.

The Best Knock-Knock Joke Ever

"Knock-knock?"
"Who's there?"
"I'm a pile-up."

This was on day 9 or so of being the oldest in the batch of kids in Mexico (from both my biological and non-biological families).

I actually laughed out loud for about five minutes.

ID

While we were in Mexico, Price, Zoe, Ella, Alex and I were all sitting around and I thought it would be funny to bring up how Price once tried to convince me to give him my ID when I turn 21 (he's convinced we look enough alike for the gender thing to not be an issue). Instead of Price cowering in shame like I thought he would, he apparently is still convinced he can pull off using my ID.

Reasons Price will NEVER be able to pass as 21 with my ID (in 10 months):

1. On my ID, I am 5' 5" and weigh 110. Price is at least 6' 1" and weighs about 145. He claims that since he's light, it's close enough to 110.

2. On my ID, my gender is listed as Female. Price is not a female. He is sure that if he crossdresses and speaks in a fairly high voice, no one will ask him to "prove it."

3. Many of my features don't actually match up with Price's. Although we look alike, my hair is much darker than his (especially in my driver's license photo), and my teeth are very straight (whereas his look like he's been trying to chew concrete for the last five years).

I would keep going with reasons, but it's totally unnecessary. There is no way Price could pass as a girl. To prove my point, I have convinced him to participate in a "dry run," where we will go to 7-11 with my older ID that has expired and Price will put on a nice dress and try to buy cigarettes.

Mexico So Far

First of all, Merry Christmas everybody.

At the airport on our way to Mexico, the airline (Mexicana) sold our seats while we were waiting in line so my mom ended up yelling at the airline employee until he pushed the silent alarm and called security. After about 10 security guards showed up (I'll post pictures on Facebook when I get back to Spain) they ended up putting us on the next flight and we got here just fine.

The house we're staying in is huge and comes with people who feed us which is great. It's rained a couple times which has actually been kind of nice, and we don't do anything beyond drinking, puzzles, Monopoly, Scrabble, and sitting by the pool.

We're staying in San Miguel de Allende which is a small, artsy-feeling town in Central Mexico. I've only made it into town a couple times because I've been busy being the laziest person ever.

Even though being away from Spain is definitely cheaper, I'm definitely starting to miss it. Last night I realized I can't picture what Joanna looks like anymore. That's pretty much on par with a child forgetting what their mom looks like - it's really scary.

Mexico

I'm going to Mexico for 9 days! No internet or phones, so if you call me and I don't answer, don't get offended.

Spain Folk

I was just looking through my blog posts and noticing that Joanna and Ross have managed to comment on a lot of my blogs. I feel so missed.

So, I'm going to post unflattering pictures of you guys. Because I'm bored.

Homey Stuff

Some nice things about being home:

- Bagels and creamcheese

- Sushi

- Pedicures

- Movies in English without subtitles

- Limewire (not that I use Limewire, so please don't sue me)

- You realize how close everything you walk to is since you never walk for longer than 5 minutes

- You hear about celebrity gossip pretty much as it happens instead of a week later/by word of mouth (e.g. Jamie Lynn Spears)

- You can have actual phone conversations on your cell phone (instead of the usual 50 euro cent/minute quick calls)

- Hamburgers are made out of beef, not ham

Some less nice things about being home:

- Listening to your family fight and actual meaning it (instead of Spain where the only yelling you hear is between people on the street and it's all in good fun).

- Getting asked how Spain is going every 30 seconds by a different friend of my parents.

- Having access to a car but needing to ask when I can use it constantly.

- Cafe con leche is never an option so you end up with a minimum of 12 ounces of milky coffee (I know, I know, I complained about this before I left, but it sucks now).

- Having to do favors for your family instead of Spain life where you only really have to do things for yourself.

- Can't go to bars, so you end up sitting around either at home or in the homes of your friends - totally sober.

- Hearing about things going on in Spain and not being able to participate.

- Becoming incredibly high strung from too much stimulation.

- Knowing that I'm going to be getting on 6 separate planes in the next couple weeks - including the really long flight back to Europe.

It's good to be back though, don't get me wrong. Only right now my house is being remodeled so I get to listen to incessant banging right above my bed. Last night my bed was covered in ceiling chips from the re-flooring happening above me. At least I get good food, though.

Barcelona People

I leave for a few days and everything in Barcelona goes to hell: Ross wants the color orange to disappear because it sucks and no one likes it.

Home is good, still. I'm going up to Davis today to visit some people. It's gonna be pretty amazing. I can go to the Tea House and get boba.

It's probably good that I'm leaving since I'm getting back in my rut of sitting around listening to music and playing mahjongg all day.

Driving

I drove today. It was really scary because all that was going through my head was "WOW I definitely cannot walk this fast." Even though I've been in cars in Spain (mostly cabs) I haven't actually gotten to operate anything (even a bike) and so being in control of going faster than 5 miles per hour is pretty mind-blowing.

I'm Home

I'm finally home, and it turns out California isn't all burned down. Weird.

The main difference is that my family moved the kitchen into my room which is actually cool because the old rule of "no food after 10" can't be reinforced.

I'm hanging out with my non-biological family (Zoe and Ella - both freaks)

and watching Planet Earth. So basically I'm in high school again.

I ate Mexican food for dinner and it was really spicy. Be jealous.

Outta Here

I'm going home! I'll be back in Spain January 6.

Dim sum, here I come.

WWHD? (What Will Hillary Drive?)

A few days ago, my mom sent me an e-mail where she non-chalantly mentioned that Price got in a "fender bender in SF." She disguised this news by hiding it between other things she thought I would care more about.

Last night, I was on the internet (because I have so many friends and so much to do) talking to Josh, Zoe's dad (again, because I have so many friends and so much to do), and I asked him about the fender bender. Turns out, Pricey totaled my Passat (that I had not yet driven) by bailing out of an illegal u-turn and hitting a new Volvo and I am now going to be car-less over break. Josh sent me a Facebook message titled "WWHD? (What Will Hillary Drive?)" with this picture attached:


Every single person I tell this to has the immediate response of: "OH NO! Is he OKAY!?!?" YES HE IS OKAY, JESUS H. CHRIST. Not only is he okay, but odds are he is not going to get punished and my mother will buy him a new car.

On top of all this (and I am currently livid), no one in my family will come pick me up from the airport. My mom says she might, but only if that's what she needs to do to "make me feel loved."

So, Zoe, wanna come get me? I bought you a Christmas present and we're totally friends, for now, but that can all change really quickly.

Fútbol

Joanna and I went to the Barcelona game tonight. It's definitely interesting to watch, and the fans are pretty intense. Even though I used to play soccer, I never understood how people could be so riveted by it, so the fact that I made it through the whole game is pretty impressive.

The majority of the people who go are older men who sit there with their portable radios listening to the commentary while watching the game.


We met some tourists from Brazil who (once they stopped hitting on Joanna/taking pictures where she would obviously be in the background) semi-criticized us for talking during the game and appearing less amused than the drunk guys who were getting progressively naked-er with each goal (it was probably 4 degrees out).

During half-time we went to buy a snack and I got laughed at multiple times by the random lady standing next to me at the counter. Apparently my accent is the funniest thing she's ever heard. I'm sick of getting made fun of by people here, so it's good I'll get to come home for a few weeks.

It was amusing enough but I mostly just went to see what the games are like. I'm still happy I went, though.