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....