MAIPS

Yipes well there goes five more days!
Lo siento, chicos.....and future-heartbroken-Morgan.
This weekend was altogether rather normal.
Experienced some serious family boot drama in Vigo, made French toast for Pelayo's (brother of Olivia) friends, visited Tui.....y nada mas.
I swear every day is still a huge surprise that I am in Spain.
Like, you'd think I'd be used to it by now.....but I still say things like:
"WHOA LOOK AT THAT PALM TREE"
"I feel as if I am nestled in a cozy little bowl of mountains"
"What classes do I have on Wednesday? Because I have no idea. Literally. No idea."
"What does 16:00 mean?"
"What's your name again?"
"Wait, how cold is 15 degrees Celsius?"
"Wait, how do you even spell Celsius?"
"Seriously EVERYONE in this room is speaking Spanish right now"

So.....I'm really popular. I have 35 friends on Tuenti (Spanish Facebook!) and lots of MAIPS because I ask everyone to be my MAIPS.
MAIPS: mejores amigos inseparables para siempre
Mejores amigos inseparables para siempre: best friends inseparable forever
I'm even MAIPS with the cute waiter at the BiCafé! Hashtag #SUCCESS

Speaking of the BiCafé, boy do I have story for you! Dios mio. Preparate, we've got vampiros.

Okay, so I'm café-ing with my homegirl Iria and we were discussing in English which window our apartment is (we live rather close to the bicaf.....very very close. The bicaf is practically up our noses every morning.) and this man dressed in all leather and totally decked out in piercings came up to me and we had a small, eccentric English conversation.
"Excuse me, where are you from?"
"America"
"Which state?"
"Michigan"
"Oh I not know where this is"
"That's nice"
"I prefer Europe over America"
"That's good."
"But there are many strange people in Europe"
"There are many strange people in the whole world"
"Yes but take me for example, I drink blood"
"Oh good, that's good."
"It really is!" (insert physical excitement here) "It supplies the body with much energy"
"Of course, I would imagine so"
"But you see, I have just the hemoglobin (I think that's what he said), you know this? I just drink this"
"That's good"
"Yes it is good for energy"
"Is this for a medical purpose?"
"No no, there is no medical explanation!"
"Oh that's...that's good"
"Very strange, no?"
"Oh no, not at all."
"Well, I go now, you should try sometime"
"Well I certainly will! Goodbye!"


The cute waiter (my other MAIPS) laughed, we discussed the man, and that's how we became MAIPS. Now, every time I go to the BiCafé, we acknowledge each other with a "chao". MAIPS.

The vampire's name is Hugo (I officially attract all kinds of Hugo's....muy bien Morgan, buen trabajo) and he had mental problems and got addicted to his medication and never speaks to anyone.
...........MAIPS!
Okay but en serio, I saw him on my way to afternoon school and I hid behind a lamppost.


So after a very long day of running for two hours and taking our pulse every four minutes and translating numbers and yards into Spanish and meters and writing ghetto phrases on Olivia's arm (I'm deprived of ghetto things, okay?) and café-ing with MAIPS Raúl and Hugo and Olivia, I shall retreat to the cama with a pulsing headache.
Good luck with that hurricane over there......

The smallest dog thing I have ever seen in my life ran up to me today and it made me miss my baby Moose. I shall return soon, Moosifer.....all too soon....

Red and Green

It is raining and the sky is a block of light grey. I am blanketed in my very European black peacoat and sitting outside at a café. The chairs are shaped like little egg things (what else would you expect at a modern European cafe?...) and they are bright red and the little square tables are bright white. I am alone and waiting for my sister to get out of the math class across the street, but so much has already happened here. I can still see Paula opening peanut after peanut and I can hear Sarah teaching me how to properly say "cacahuate". I can see David (dah-veeee-th) and his blonde curls and I can smell the smoke from his cigarette (stop gasping, it's Europe) (ugh I'm going to seriously get cancer from secondhand smoking) (but oh well, maybe when I'm older I can come back and campaign against smoking in public places) (well, maybe not, because everyone dies eventually right?) and I can still hear the sound of the plates rattling from when we played a very intense card game of Egyptian Ratscrew (that was fun to explain in Spanish) (ever played?) (no?) (learn).

Today I'm thinking of lights. Here, all I do is start and stop.
I find myself watching the light turn from red to green and thus I am jerked from my comfy little stopping position and I have to force myself to get up and understand what the person next to me is saying and quickly come up with a response so they don't get bored and walk away.

Yesterday I had a lovely and lengthy chat with my favoritist aunt of all time (the time is definitely ripe to invent a new word). There was so much more that I needed to say but there is only so many words that fit into a telephone line, ya feel?

Pronunciation lesson of the week: here, v's sound like b's, and c's z's and d's sound like th's, and r's sound like d's, and j's are to be said with a very overemphasized and throat-hacking "h". I hope you know what I mean by throat-hacking, because I have no idea how to explain this with words.

I'm ridiculously obsessed with T-Swizzle's new cd. Have you bought it yet???? No? Are you going to go buy it now? Yep. Thought so.
I can always picture a face or a personal situation when I listen to her songs, and I am quite thrilled that when I look back on this experience, there will be an entire cd playing in the background!
Ohhh qué triste, I don't want to think about coming home.
Ever.

In other news, the social life never stops!
Most of my friends are studying for the big test in economía tomorrow, but I'm not in that class and the big group of boys in the neighboring cafe sure doesn't care about it.
Before now, I would be rather intimidated by this, but now that I know half of them and am feeling more confident within myself and Spanish, I have successfully waved and smiled and blew off the fact that I am completely and totally alone at the moment.
Go me.
One point for the weird American girl.
As I learn more Spanish, I understand more and can be witty and flirty and silly and my personal favorite....sarcastic. I'm almost a real Spanish person now...!
I think it's safe to say that I can survive here without English.
I certainly don't understand every word, but is that really necessary?
I know enough to understand the convo through context clues and gestures. Also mentionable, all my friends are quite enthusiastic about helping me understand what's going on.
However, I'm a little sick of the girl in one of my classes who always sighs "pobrecita" every time the teacher says something.
Girlfriend, I knew what I was getting into when I got on that plane!
Jk, I had no idea I would lose my wallet and be forced to relocate.

40 days....39 nights....

That must be why it still hasn't stopped raining.
JAJAJA.

40 days? Forty days? Cuarenta días?
No.
It can't be.
It.
I just.
No.
I can't even.
That's a long time, bro.
Long time.

By now I'm like a little chameleon.
I molded into one family, folded into another, weaved through a couple friend groups, and here I am hyperventilating when I think of home. I have to go be a junior, a new and different species of high school. And then I have to get used to another place.
Sounds like a lotta work for a little chameleon.

I took a history test on Friday morning.....
Yipes.
All of the questions were disgustingly easy but I didn't know enough Spanish to answer them properly.
It took me the entire hour to write 2-3 sentences for each question.
UGHH HOW FRUSTRATING.
Vidal, I promise I'm not ignorant and uninformed.
Thanks to Romak, I know all of those industrial periods like the back of my hand.
Better than the back of my hand.
I don't know how many bones are in the back of my hand but I know how much the salary of Andrew Carnegie's factory workers was.

Yesterday we went to Vigoooooooooo!!!!!
It is positively ginormous. I felt like I was in old-fashioned Chicago.
Just kidding, Chicago is flat.
Vigo is like....the Appalachian Mountains.
My host uncle, Paco, kept telling me that Vigo is so young but like...it's as old as America.
Ugh I live in a baby country.

Iria had a fancy French class for legit three hours (little trilingual genius) and in the meanwhile I cafe-ed with the fam. We were surrounded by everything you could possibly wish for in life. Big beautiful city, a crystal blue salty ocean, mountains, and vicious pigeons. I wish I had taken more pictures, but I still have 73 days here to do that.
When Iria got out of class, we went out to eat and then literally shopped until we dropped.
I am officially safe from hypothermia in school now.

So far I have had a day of mega relaxing. Here in Spain, they only permit relaxing on Sundays. At first I was like twitching at this because Sundays are my days to get everything done but NOTHING is open and now I am used to it.
I "breakfasted" (breakfasting is a verb here: desayunar), showered, lunched (also a verb), and translated all of my history into English in in between.

I feel like I just need an entire day to sleep.
Just sleeeeeep forever.
It tires me just to think of another day (tomorrow) drowning in Spanish and struggling to stay afloat in life because half the time I have no idea what's going on.
But it's really all fun and games, I assure you. All of the things I used to worry over en Los Estados Unidos....so seeeeelllly. Eees joke. Was joke.

My host sister is sick.
I have officially been sick three times here.
I might die if I get sick again, or at least go into a very violent rage.


TAYLOR SWIFT'S NEW ALBUM COMES OUT TONIGHT!!!!!

Mirrors and Boats

Disclaimer/warning/beware: today's post features....a strange and profound little rant.

Tonight I cannot stop thinking; my mind is running faster than I can keep up.
Being here and living and breathing everything differently is such a strange experience. I feel disconnected to many things...permanently.
Before I came here, I had a strong gut feeling that something about me would change. Everybody said "no no, you'll be the same Morgan!" but for some reason, I couldn't believe them and I think I was right. Maybe I'm not a different person, but I'm getting to know myself much better. And I still surprise myself. Who would have thought I could survive rejection from a family? I have learned that there will be people people in life who will not like or accept my choices and differences, but that is their problem and I have to still be content with myself and move the heck on.
Moving on is never easy for me because I like to overanalyze and rethink and learn from situations so I don't make mistakes, but here my time is just so short that I have to be open-minded enough to see and do everything. That's all I really want here. To collect experiences to keep in my pocket forever.
And then these experiences are molding me like a clay teapot in a kiln. Everything hardens permanently until something drops and is broken.

I don't know many people here very well and they don't know me. Many of them don't give me a chance when they discover that I have no idea what "ratatitavitalamita" means and they give up. Others are excited to hear from the mini American ambassador. And others see me as a person and care about my success here. I really like them.
But I always have myself, and finally that is a great comfort. We all drive our only little boats in the sea of life; we can latch onto others with ropes but we technically enter and leave the seven seas in our own, customized, little speed boat. Here I have found that I am content with my boat and what I am reflecting in the mirror.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder who is there, who will be there, who has been there. I wish the girl in the mirror had laughed at herself when the entire class chortled at her accent instead of sinking down and blushing, I wish the girl in the mirror had stayed longer to chat with the people she is uncomfortable with, I wish the girl in the mirror had went up to the boy tonight, or the girl who was crying at recreo. But alas, what's done is done and I have to keep steering.

These are my thoughts right now. Do with them what you wish, because I have no idea what to do with them. I am rather happy here, and feeling rather down when I think of returning to my slightly-loserish, quiet life where I don't affect six different people every day or meet people from Italy and Spain and Ireland and Romania every two hours.
Only two more months to soak up all of this craziness and to root for whoever that girl in the mirror is, to tell her to walk away or to jump in and watch her do it.

Huelga

Today was a rather strange experience.
We are still apparently huelga-ing, and so there were literally 4 other people in my class today. Four.
Hardly any of the teachers showed up either, so all day, every single hour, we either chatted (very bueno for my Spanish) or studied for the history exam tomorrow.
I am very determined to ace this history exam because it's about the industrial revolution and I get to answer in English.
However, since we are huelga-ing, I don't think I'll get the opportunity.

The instituto was rather barren and empty (and freezing but this is normal).
My Spanish (and my overall willpower) is rather worn out from speaking so much and pressing myself to use words I am unsure of.
There's not doubt that my Spanish is much better now, but there's so much to still learn.
Everything I use here, I learned here. We don't even say "como estás". Maybe it's because I learned Latin American Spanish, but my two years in Spanish class were useless.
I'm rather thrilled about learning Spanish here though, because everyone tells me how much better it is. I understand why; Latin America used to belong to Spain and Portugal. In those days, they spoke Spanish. Normal Spanish. Now it has been manipulated into almost a completely different language.
I'm dying to learn Portuguese. And French. Italian. Maybe a little German. Yep.

The food here is killing me. It's soooo delicious but a lot of carbs. Everything is much heavier than what I am used to and it makes me very tired all the time. Olivia and I frequently exchange tips such as "don't mix the proteins" "eat a bite of protein before anything else" "only eat one slice of bread with dinner" "don't put sugar in your coffee" "eat two vegetables a day" "eat fruit at dinner".
And now I am constantly craving sugar and bread.
Maybe its an addiction. I'm an azucaholic. Oh dios mio.

October 16th

Today is day one of three of the huelga.
Huelga = strike.
Strike = Spain's frequently-occuring attempt at bringing justice to the school system.
Side note: Did you know that these people don't pay taxes for their public schools? And yet my school here still manages to be more pleasant than Bedford?.....

So only about half of the people in all of my classes showed up, which opened wide the door of opportunity to interract with my Spanish peers.
Let´s start with TICS (computer science).
I always have TICS first thing on Tuesdays.
TICS Tuesdays.
Well, in TICS I now have two new friends. Best friends. Mejores amigos. Pablo and Iván.
They both fill the Spanish quota you are all hoping for: tall, dark, and handsome.
Another side note: There are no blondes here. None. Nada. Nadie. Zip.
Pablo and Ivan like to pick on me and make fun of my very American accent (in a loving and playful way, I restfully assure you). Usually, I ignore them or smile awkwardly because I don´t know how to say "shut up" in Spanish, but today I forgot that it is required of me to speak Spanish here, and I said "Can I help you?" extremely sarcastically, as if I might say to a pesty English-speaking person.
Pablo and Ivan thought this was the best joke in the world.
They were snorting up a storm and repeating over and over "Cahn I eh-help you?".
Mejores amigos.
Then, Pablo decided to Google-Maps my town and I showed him the school website and tried to explain Big Ball.
Curse you, Bedford, for posting pictures of Big Ball on the front page.
I don't even know how to explain it in English.
Everyone was quite intrigued by our 56 different gymnasiums and even Brais (asked him where TICS was on the first day and never spoke to him again) ambled over to have a look.
If you can't tell, only boys take computer science here.

October 15th

Can we please discuss how ridiculous my life is right now.
I can't figure out of I'm going to be bored when I'm not starring in my own movie or if I'll welcome it with arms wide open.
Today, I was walking with my pack of friends and we were being followed by LITERALLY every attractive boy in bach 1º and 2º (juniors and seniors). There was a fire hose box thing sticking out of the wall and I successfully slammed right into it very noisily.
The entire bunch of boys trailing behind us positively ERUPTED in laughter and all my girlfriends kept saying "estás bien? estás bien?" which was nice but let's be real here, that just elevates the overall situation to unbearable levels.
Uggggghhhhh.
That weird chica Americana.

Furthermore, the entire class is slowly but surely, one-by-one, discovering that Hugo is absolutely in love with me. Andrea (girl that I am not entirely sure how I feel about now) whispered loudly to a dead silent room "Morrgon, que tal con Hugo?" and then burst into a fiery flame of laughter. I got a bunch of warily-raised eyebrows from Hugo's friends and Hugo himself got all pouty.
What an awkward situation that is my life.

And the English teacher that hates Olivia and me announced that she wants to see us after class and everyone here is actually seven years old so they did the typical "ooooh".
Die. All of you.
I never did find out what good-ole' Olga wanted.

Due to all of these charming events, the day has been endless.
However, Latín gets better yet.
Forreal, no sarcasm.
I did indeed choose to take this class and I only had a hateful passion for it because I don't understand Spanish and everyone else has a full Latin year under their belts (that phrase was solely used to get a chuckle out of you, Beezy). My funny little Latín teacher brought a book for me that explains Latin in English!!!!!
I love it.
I already did two chapters about two girls named Cornelia and Flavia.

Last night.
I made some new friends.
I went with my host sister to El Patio to meet up with Flor, Pedro, and new amigos Martín and Roberto, and eventually Iván.
But, I always forget that I'm the foreign girl until situations like these happen.
I didn't have a proper introduction and I couldn't really just jump into the conversation because I didn't know what the heck was going on. Poor Emily had to endure my overzealous over-emphasized text messages constructing plans to jump in and stop being an outcast.
Well, I found a window of opportunity to joke with Pedro and he didn't understand it but his friends did and they laughed and decided that I was okay after all.
We went to the parque and Pedro and Martín were amusing themselves by talking to me in Spanglish, an awkward combo of Spanish and English.

There is a certain pattern regarding the ettiquette of fitting in with these people that I am starting to understand.
Step one: feel horrendous and wish desperately to spontanously combust
Step two: accept loneliness
Step three: try to understand the conversation
Step four: understand the conversation 5 minutes after it's over
Step five: say something awkward and strange and distracting when everybody pauses to take a breath
Step six: understand everything that everyone is saying to you so you don't scare them off again. Everything.
Step seven: bask in popularity.

Cristobal Colon

We are currently in the middle of a holiday celebrating when Spain owned America because our buddy Crystal Ball stumbled upon the Americas. 

I never know when people are talking about Chris Columbus because here his name is like Cristobal Colon. Something crazy like that. 

We had the day off school yesterday and started off by attending mass that which all the important people were at. There were like 50 veterans from the Spanish Civil wars and their families and the mayor and whatnot. Even some Portuguese soldiers came to represent. 

They all wear very strange hats. 

And the service was in Galego. 

I felt very American. 

That is all. 

Afterwards, we checked out the cemetery where Iria's grandfather is buried. It is small but very old and beautiful. Here, as Iria's uncle explained to me, they don't have as much land space as America so instead of burying everyone in the ground, it's like walking through an open Mausoleum. Yes, kinda creepy. 

There were four or five rows of, well, dead people and each coffin-space had a pretty little glass picture window. There were lots of people cleaning the glass and stowing new flowers inside. 

The rows of lost souls wrapped around and around the cemetery like a maze and there was a pretty roof at the top. Iría said that when someone has just died, there will be flowers just spewing all around wherever his/her pretty little window box is. 

Afterwards, we met up with Iria's tio, tia, abuela, and tia of her abuela. We went to a restaurant in Porriño that apparently they go to every time they are together. It was like the best meal of my life and they are all so nice and fun. 

One of the biggest reasons I chose Spain was because they value family so much. I am so lucky for a family so willing to let me into their life. Manoli tells me daily that I am her daughter and Iria and I toss the word "sister" around like it's nothing. 

After dessert, Iria and I headed to El Patio, our usual place of gathering, along with our friend Pedro. 

We talked for hours and Skyped with my tia and prima and Tigre. I could not hear them but they could hear me and our Spanish. Tonight or tomorrow, I want to introduce my padre to everyone. 

I can't believe I didn't Skype with everyone until now, it's been over a month, but it makes me homesick. 

I miss America so much sometimes, but then I feel awful when I think of coming home because I have established so many friends here and I wish I could see them through the end of the year. I feel like I'll be throwing myself back into a world where I don't know where I fit in. 

Está Lloviendo

How did I already let two days slip by without blogging??? The hours here are passing through my fingers so quickly these days. 

I am currently in historia pretending to understand. 

Last night I had a cardiac arrest when I thought we had a big test here, because I still have 13 very long pages to translate into English about the Industrial Revolution. 

But alas, the test is on the 18th, not the 11th. I never ever ever ever ever know what day it is. 

Oh, and multiple choice doesn't exist here. 

It's all essays. 

Even in Maths. 

American school? I love you so much. 

I'm so glad I'm blogging because I barely remember what happened yesterday. I think I liked my outfit, lunch was really familiar (grilled chicken WITHOUT skin and bones.....this never happens), and I went to Iria's extra English classes with her. She's in a really advanced class so everyone was tossing all kinds of English words all over the place and I was more than happy to catch them. I miss the English language a lot, but I'm going to be super disappointed when I come home and have nobody to speak Spanish to. 

It rains a lot here. 

Literally every day Manoli is telling me "Está lloviendo!! Donde están tus botas?" but I love the rain so much. It's not cold yet, just pristine sweater weather. 

I like this. One day I will live in London. 

Speaking of big cities, nobody here wants to go to America, they want to go to Nueva York or Los Angeles and homecoming. Yesterday in Informatica, I showed my friend María my cheerleader friends on Facebook and pictures from homecoming and she couldn't believe how similar to the movies it is. 

Gag, it really is just like the movies and TV shows. 

Exactamente. 

Okay so today in Filosofia..........here is like, a perfect example of my life here. 

My Filosofia teacher does nothing with us but talk talk talk and she talks soooooo fast. I was examining a Eurocent (they are very strange and intriguing) and she was talking and talking and then I dropped it and clattered loudly on my desk and everybody shifted glances my way and I melted into my seat and wanted to die. 

The weird chica Americana is at it again. 

HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE: ¡No más Latín!

Big deal. Huge deal. Grande. 
The worst part of life here was Latín because everyone has studied it before here and I've been stumbling and lagging behind all month and I just wanted to die every day in this class sooooooo I finally whipped out my little dictionary and figured out how to ask if I could just study my Spanish textbook from home until I'm a Spanish genius. The teacher (a funny little old guy) smiled and rambled and I was very confused until one of my friends laughed and said "¡FIESTA!" which directly translates into "no más Latín". 

Ugh okay, more exchange student drama coming your way. 
One day, I will look back on today and laugh. One day. 
My class has gym every Tuesday for two hours. 
Two hours. Are you feeling the significance of this?....
The gym teacher loves us American girls (think back to that lovely introduction on the first day of school) and he likes to single us out. 
We played several different games where he told us what to do. Of course, Olivia and I understood absolutamente nada and he had to repeat everything very slowly. 
In fact, he repeated everything very slowly even if we did understand because he just got a kick out of treating us like three-year olds. 
Also, in fact, three-year olds understand more Spanish than me. 
I am so bad at any sport involving a pelota. 
So I'm sure you can imagine how wonderful my futból skills are. 
More unnecessary attention. 
So, we have to go back for two hours after lunch on Tuesdays (don't you love Tuesday's? I do) and I had Griego and Filosofia. My profé de Filosofia made me read outloud. 
She chose something really hard. 
I didn't recognize anything. 
So I'm sitting there stumbling over words and the class is snickering and muttering "dios mio" and I'm wondering why I didn't predict this earlier and take cover while I could. 
As if that wasn't a horrendous experience as is, I was also asked to translate the passage into English. 
.....…........…
Yeah, um, no. 
I completely and totally made up a little story and rambled on until the teacher said they got the picture. After class, Olivia was like "was that really what it was about?" 

Also today, at recreo, a boy asked me what the correct way to pronounce "water" is. We worked for like five minutes on this and he is still saying "watair" instead of "water". 
These weeks and little experiences are absolutely flying by. 
I have been in a weird headspace for the past three days. I'm dying to return home, but then when Pedro mentioned skyping when I return home, I didn't even want to begin to imagine leaving this new life I have established. 
How weird, I have another life to live at home. 

Ahora, ¡estoy en biblioteca y todo el mundo está hablando muy rápido! 
Must concentrate. 
Chao

El Día de Inglés

Hoy es el día de Inglés!
My host family is speaking English all day today.
My host mom is so cute. As she is leaving the apartment: "I go working!"

Today Historia was cancelled so the whole class sat around goofing off in our primary classroom. Muchas Cosas (Ian) kept saying Morrrrrrrgon (tongue-roll on the rr) and I didn't want to turn around because I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or not because despite the fifty times he said it, I still couldn't figure out what he was saying. Finally (73 Morrrrrgon's later) he said "MORRGON, YOU GEEEEVE ME THEEE CAHHDS NOW???" turns out he dropped his cards and wanted me to pick them up. What a fiasco.
Furthermore in this class of shennanigans, my two mejores amigos in the class are named Raul and Sergio and we frequently draw pictures to each other because they are not as patient as Eva and Aisa and Leila with my Spanish. Today, I decided that a cancelled class was a perfect opportunity to create a masterpiece so I decided to be really really normal and average and draw them a picture of Hitler.

There is a bulletin board next to the door in our classroom and Raul hangs all of our drawings there. 

School gets so much more comfortable every day. 

I mean, except for the ciencias teacher. Playa. 

She is the biology teacher of Iria and my Mundo Contemporaneo teacher. 

She is quite mean to Iria and she calls on me and Olivia for hard questions about riesgos. 

I don't even know what riesgos are and I just don't care enough to look it up. 

Something about volcanoes or earthquakes. Or hurricanes. Maybe. 

OKAY SO THIS IS FOR THE MASSES.
My dad has informed me that my blog posts are rather popular, so I took a gander at the pageviews of this blog...
15,666??!?
This is what it's like to be famous.
Jajajaja. 

El Partido de España

Today is domingo. 

This means that everything is dead in town. 

Nothing is open. 

The Spanish take every opportunity to not work, which is truly a lovely thing. 

Note to the economists out there: we are all in crisis. It is not because Spain takes Sunday's off. Trust me. 

I went out to eat for lunch with Manoli and Iria at a cafe right under the apartment today and they were bombarding me with questions about America, which were rather exciting to answer. 

They asked me about school and fútbol americano and homecoming and claim that all my answers mirror the movies they watch. 
I like being an actress. 

Especially in my own familiar movie. 

Manoli left early but Iria and I stayed to chat in English (my Spanish is a little dead today). 

A group of cute boys from my school sat down in the table next to us and were intrigued by our quick English. Iria was listening to them and said they kept trying to translate what I was saying.

I love being the weird American girl. 

Last night, I watched my first pelicula en Español!!!!!!!

It was very confusing because all the little details had an important reason behind them. Every. Little. Detail. 

We had to pause the movie a couple times so Iria could explain what was going on. 

Tonight was not as brilliant. 

I watched my first partido de fútbol this evening and I was surrounded by lively Spainards. Everyone was shouting and I couldn't even begin to hear any of my friends let alone understand them, so I ended up lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. Every time someone would say something to me, I would understand 5 minutes later and be able to think of a response but they were already moved on from talking with me. 

So frustrating. 

I wish I could understand more quickly. 

I found myself sitting there wishing I could disappear into the wall, because all of those people had a place in that cafe. They could understand the TV and the waitress and most importantly, their friends. 

Normal things I dream of having here. 

Ah well, that's what I get for being the weird American girl. 

Step by step....each step harder than the next. 

Final destination: blend with the gente of España. 

Current destination: my cama in this apartment above the noisy street that is still stuck on the Madrid-Barcelona game. 

I would be too if I lived here. 

But I can't even pronounce "Barcelona" correctly. 

Me: Barselona

Pedro: Barthelona?

Me: sí, Barselona

Pedro: ?

Ugh. 

Buenas noches, it is very late. 

Ps. I ate a hamburger today. It was very large and nothing like an American hamburger. At all. 

It was great. But I'm dying for some seriously American food.

P.s.s I'm still waiting for one of you to UPS my puppy to me. 

P.s.s.s WAITING PATIENTLY....

Homecoming

In EEUU, today is homecoming.

I would be piling my hair on top of my head and painting my face with makeup and sliding into a beautiful dress and dancing like an idiot today if I were not here. 

In the meanwhile, I have had a perfect day. 

I feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

I have to start over and mold into a new family now, and I am considering today "day one". 

Iria and I had a largely delicious breakfast when we woke up (after staying up all night learning about the people of this town) and I hung out with her mom while she was studying biology. We went to the supermercado and the Frutería and the Pandería and went for coffee with Iria's abuela. She is so sweet, but talks very fast so I never understand her. Poco a poco. 

Afterwards, I went to a cute little park with Iria and I brought my guitar and we sang and wrote songs. How cute. 

We speak in a tangled mess of Spanish and Inglés, it's great. 

I love living here in Spain, it is so relaxed and casual and beautiful. 

Everyone complains about how small this town is, but it has a huge village and paved cobblestone sidewalks and stores and fifty panderias and forty grocery stores and sixty cafes. I just love it. 

Oh, and not to mention we are basically chillin' in the middle of the bottom of a bowl of mountains. 

Every morning there is a mist of fog that blankets the mountain tops, and sometimes when the fog clears, I can see from my school window a huge double rainbow that is so much more brilliant and bright than anything I've ever seen in my life. 

It's perfecto. 

Tonight I feel far away. I do not feel homesick, just detached and floating, drifting, falling farther from America. In doing this, I have set myself apart. I will never experience my junior homecoming or my first Big Ball game (long story.....it's a Bedford thing). Instead I am over here making memories with beautiful people I will have to say goodbye to all too soon. I hate to admit this but a month has already passed and my future return to Los Estados Unidos is bulging ahead.....dark and colorful all at the same time. 

Okay I definitely do not want to think of this anymore. 

I'm off to watch my first movie in castellano........

Yipes. 

Later alligators. 

Ohhhh, more antics?

Quickly. 

Iria was talking about how she always confuses "shellfish" with "selfish" (so cute, I know I know) and I always confuses "lechuga" with "lechuza" (lettuce and owl). Gah, we are adorable. 

Also, today at cena, Manoli (Spanish mami) was talking about how she was going to work tomorrow with her friend. I looked at Iria and said "wait, we have to get up at 8:30 to go buy peas?"

Yikes, my translation was a little off there. 

We were all laughing for a good 10 minutes. 

Story of my life. 

American girl problems. 

On a brighter Spanish language note, I am finally learning how to be sarcastic and flirty in my Spanish! I consider this a major achievement, because where would I be without my sarcasm? Huddling in a dark corner on Pluto, that's where. 

Like I said. Poco a poco. 

Okay. Spanish movie time. Josh Hutcherson follows me everywhere, he just can't get enough of me ;)

Buenas noches!

Buckets of Meteorites

Okay so I am officially back to blogging every day, not to worry.
My life is slowing down now and I am settling into my new normal. There are plenty of things I will miss about my previous life here, but I suppose it is time to move on now.
I now live with a girl one year younger than me named Iria and we share many of the same interests and our lives are uniquely common. It is just her and her madre - her padre died a few years back. We bond a lot over music. She has a beautiful singing voice and loves all of my favorite artists. All of them.
Her mother is very sweet and I surprisingly understood everything she said to me last night when she was explaining life here and showing me everything around the house. She speaks only Castellano and French, but Iría has perfect English. However, we have a pact to only speak Spanish except for Monday's - which will officially be our Día de Inglés.
They have both welcomed me into their home with open arms, explaining that it is my house now too.
I feel as comfortable here as I did in my otra casa.

I brought way too many summer clothes - IT'S FREEZING HERE. I have already purchased boots and a jacket but I am dying for some comfy sweaters.
Luckily, Iria has French class in Vigo every Saturday morning....which directly translates into SHOPPPINNNNGG!
Okay Dad, before you have a heart attack, keep reading; there is more good news ahead.

Iria was rolling off a list of awesome stores in Vigo and after realizing that "hache eme" is "H&M" and "thara" is "Zara" I kinda flipped out.
In America, Zara is super expensive and the only Zara close to where I live is in the middle of Chicago.
I have now learns that it is only expensive because of shipping.....because the owner of Zara lives right here in Galicia! Iria showed me a cardigan that she claimed was 3€ while in America totally would be $39.
The owner also has a more informal store here too, but there is no way I'll be able to spell the name.
It is sufficient to say...I am in heaven.

Okay so I miss normal cookies and bagels and ICE CREAM. And the second I get home, I'm going to require Tim Hortons for breakfast, Subway for lunch, and Taco Bell for dinner.
Last night I showed Iria my friends at home (yes, you people) and she said that it's funny that people here in Spain think of Americans as very large and fat but then every American she's ever seen is so beautiful. Interesting, right?

Ciao for now readers.

P.S. I have been here for 24 days. Holy buckets of meteorites.

Survivor

I'm still alive, sorry for leading you to believe otherwise due to my lack of sharing Spanish antics on here. 
Things have been.....complicado.
It would take me several blog posts of explanation and some serious mental confrontation to explain what went wrong, and let's be real, nobody wants to read that, so I will sum up the events of these past few weeks with a metaphor:
A bomb exploded in paradise, but I have made a sanctuary from the ashes.
Translation: my worst nightmare happened and my familia did not work out, but I am safely installed in a new habitat now.

I'm sure this has left you with 64 different questions, but for now, no pasa nada (significance: hakuna matata).
I hope you have songs from the Lion King plastered violently to your brain all day now.
I do.

Now I shall fill you with more fun antics of my Spanish movie life!
To know more castellano = to have more fun.
My Spanish has improved DRAMASTICALLY.
It is so exciting to have real conversations now, not just the cute little "smile-and-pretend-like-you-know-what-she's-saying" kind of thing.
Lately I have been explaining the significance of "hipster" quite often, which always ends awkwardly because I generally pluck an example out of the crowd. There are lots of examples to choose from.
Tons of hipsters here.

Yesterday, a girl in my computer class asked why it's legal to carry guns around anytime, anywhere. My computer class generally tends to ignore me but lemme tell ya, every boy around me tuned in. They asked questions like "aren't you scared to walk down the street?" "police carry pistols?" "on any street? It's legal?" Every day, we Americans fight viciously for our lives if we choose to walk to the supermercado. Tough as nails. 

My history teacher frequently asks us American girls to pronounce words and names from the first Industrial Revolution such as McCormick, Edison, Watt, Hoffmann, Goodyear..... I'm sure if you are
American you have heard those names at least fifty times. I sure have (thanks to being forced to swallow American history every year of my life). Each time, the class never fails to gasp. And laugh. And repeat six times. 

I love Spanish people. 

Actually, I don't sometimes. 

They are rather forward here. 

I don't know how I feel about such forwardness yet. 

For example, on Saturday night I was walking in Porriño with my amigas and a blonde boy (very rare
here) from my school stopped right in front of me, stroked my chin, and said "eres guapa". 

Suave....not. 

Solution: throw him "the face" by Jenna Marbles. 

As well, there is a boy in my class named Hugo named Hugo who informs me daily that he is triste because quiere ser mi novio. 

Awkward. Incomódo. Adíos.

This is quite strange for me....I'm never popular with boys. 

However.......the gorgeous model Spanish boys don't ever give me the time of día unless they are snorting at my mistakes (note to self..."embarazado" is not embarrassed....it actually means "pregnant"......). 

It is so much fun to speak English, this is stellar.

Not even kidding right now..

I spoke on the phone with the lovely mejor amiga Americana Emily last night and it was disgustingly
wonderful to finally be able to convey all my feelings about everything with all the words I wanted! 

For the first time I'm a little homesick today. I've lost track of how long I've been here (is it already August?) but it feels like a very very long time. I am wary of beginning a new 'normal' routine - that sounds mentally draining. But it can only go up from here, verdad?

I miss my puppy.
Moosey do you miss me too?
Can somebody please UPS her to me pronto?