well, it seems as if i am adapting well to the spanish atmosphere, as it has been over a week since i've sat my sorry ass down and punched away at a few keys. what have i been doing since then? well, hey! i'll tell you.

i will begin with my most recent memory: sunburns. it appears i have my first. the splotchy red monster has once again assumed its favorite position on my forearms and shoulders thus re-affirming (as if it’s not already obvious given my aversion to kissing strangers on the cheek) that no, i am not from around here. it’s only february. i was only sitting in a solitary position for half an hour while watching a homeless man do some kind of tai-chi hybrid as he barked at small children passing in a park. don’t get me wrong, i love  being white and having about as much genetic flavor as a cup of mush, but not when i am the color of a freshly boiled tiger shrimp. someone toss me some kenyan chromosomes or something, please. my whole 
body has red eye.


 next, i suppose, would be this group of potential friends i have. we seem to get along rather well and end up doing things together most nights of the week. truthfully i think it's because we're all a bit afraid to see what happens to us if we spend too much time locked away in a room; but hey, friendships have been formed over stranger things. anyhow, it consists primarily of europeans ranging from bosnia to poland to italy, and me,  the lone (and lowly?) american. apparently i'm funny and know exactly what to say in the precise moment, which is i guess a common characteristic of americans. that's what the belgians told me. if that's the case, then, i want to know what the hell is going on in kentucky as i wish the majority of people would have their larynx removed. but a compliment? sure, i'll take it. 


at any rate, we've gone out quite a bit and i still am not used to it. i practically pry my eyelids open with tape and copious amounts of mascara so i can't fall asleep at the bars, but even still it only gets me so far. last night, for example, i thought i made a valiant effort of staying out until 4 am, alas as i was hailing my cab as if it were the last train out of dodge many of the other spanish people were just arriving. i suppose a 20% unemployment rate has its benefits.


classes, i hope, will go well. i've chosen three courses, being social and political movements in spain, arab-muslim political thought, and politics of security and defense. no major andaluz accents, which is very helpful (think a thick southern drawl yet in spanish and that's andaluz) for understanding. my arab professor looks like she's made out of wet papier mache and formaldehyde, but when she smiles it's a great reassurance that i'm not learning about ancient egypt from nefertiti herself. almost took a class in labor relations, and that was absolutely abysmal. i think child molestors and murderers should have to take that class. it would be a much more effective punishment. i was one of three international students stupid enough to even enter hell's gate and take a seat, and after class was over the professor asked the international students if they would come up to his desk so that he could tell us about our own exam procedure and enter our names in his computer system. let's just say i didn't want him to have to go to the trouble of even speaking to me.


i need to start cooking more. the extent of it here has been spreading marmalade and peanut butter on two pieces of bread and calling it a day. it's getting rather boring, and i think i have inadvertantly (well, with the exception of the tapas i have had on a few occasions) taken up a gluten-free diet. why? i sure as hell couldn't tell you. i'm just afraid that i will die in a tragic fire the minute i try to make myself pasta or an omelet. i can see the headlines now: "twenty-something girl abroad dies while attempting to cook." how 21st century. the feminists would be proud.


the romance section, for my mother: no one really intriguing yet. the only people who have introduced themselves to me have been exceedingly smarmy. i'm still searching for my own javier, though i suppose a bit of patience wouldn't kill me.