Semester del Sol

Someone in my religion class asked me if I go to the mikvah. Bahahaha

They just dropped me off back at my house after our overnight in Granada. Unfortunately I wasn’t feeling too well, but I still had lots of fun with them and I’m glad they came. I wish more had been open, so I could have shown them more, but that’s the downside to a week filled with holidays. I’m grateful that I did have the holiday week, so I was able to spend more time with them and less time in school. That being said, now I have to study for my Spanish exam tomorrow. blegh.

This happened Tuesday the 29th:

Usually when I drink too much, I wake up the next morning with this weird taste in my mouth. I like to describe it as “my mouth tastes like bad decisions”. So this morning, my mouth tasted like bad decisions. These bad decisions happened to be two pitchers and two glasses of Sangria. Save me the lecture, I know it was a Tuesday night, but I swear the Sangria at our favorite bar isn’t normally that strong.

Well last night it was, and this morning I went into my 8:30 am Spanish class with the bad decisions in my mouth, and probably a fairly high blood alcohol content in my bloodstream. I make my parents so proud, I know.

There you have it, my one, stupid, STUDYABROADISAWESOME, post. 

Jenny and I went shopping yesterday (I bought some cute stuff, don’t worry) and on our walk back up our street Jenny pointed down the street and said, “Is that trash can on fire?” It sure was. It was also more like an entire dumpster on fire, and it was growing pretty fast. We realized we didn’t know the emergency number for this country (“911” should really just be an international thing) so we went upstairs and told Karina that there was a fire on the street. She seemed pretty chill about it. She and Ivan went to go look out the window and then looked at each other and said, “What should we do?” Meanwhile, Jenny and I were raising panic with Lauren and Santi (more just for fun than anything, it was a contained fire after all) “Fuego! Fuego en la calle!” So Santi starts running around the house yelling “Bomberos! Bomberos!” which means “Firefighters! Firefighters!” and then he called the firehouse and told them. Keep in mind he didn’t call the emergency number, he just called the regular number for the fire department.

We kept watching the action on the street until the fire truck arrived. “Action” might be the wrong word for it. No one really seemed to care about what was going on. People just walked by, looked at the fire and kept going. No cars slowed down, nothing. Some people came and moved the other trashcans from around the dumpster to keep them from melting from the heat.

Finally the fire truck came and we all ran around the house imitating the fire truck noise and watched them put out the fire.

WE’RE OBNOXIOUS. 

It’s 50 degrees when you leave for class, it’s 70 when you come home. What jacket do you wear?