Picture this: My cheek resting gently on the toilet bowl at 3am. Greg, in the bathroom down the hall, has his cheek on the other toilet bowl. Intermittently, our cheeks rise, heave a bit, then rest again. As the bathrooms are close to each other and all the doors were open, my heaves prompted his and vice versa. Greg, the far more experienced drunk puker, was sending encouraging comments my way. Our interaction went something like this:
G: How you doing?
M: aaaaaaaaaggg
G: You're doing a great job!
M: aaaaaaaaaggg
G: I love you
M: aaaaaaaaaggg
This was round II of throwing up for the evening. I was laying on the couch when Greg went into the master bath the first time and I could vaguely hear him. The next thing I recall, I was on my knees thinking - I'm not joking - how convenient it was that I was in front of the toilet because I think I need to puke. I spare you the details but I was totally horrified because I HATE throwing up. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I cry every time. I spent some time contemplating how anyone could be bulimic. Greg was brushing his teeth.
I changed clothes and went to go brush my teeth. Greg was asleep on the bathroom floor so I stepped over him and took a hard left to the toilet again. I woke him up and he crawled to the other bathroom, which is where the story begins.
It was Greg's birthday and we had spent the day on a mountain bike ride to Powerline Pass. Yes, we biked to the top of a mountain pass and back. It was hard and a bit above my biking ability. After we got back to town we took showers and rode downtown for dinner where we ran into the Latino festival, then onto a dive bar.
There we accidentally ran into some folks Greg works with and people were buying rounds, which means that there was always a beer in front of us and two random people bought shots for the house. Basically, we shut down the bar and had a great time.
The bike ride home, which would normally sober us up, did nothing of the sort. Greg did comment on how much better of a biker I am than my brother because he fell off his bike when they biked home after a night on the town, whereas I stayed upright. Because I like to find small moments in which I am better than my brother, I will leave the story there.
PS We are both hurting a lot today.
Monday, July 30
Wednesday, July 25
I Save Babies
You may recall my one-friend-Jillian's boyfriend from an earlier posting. They were over for dinner last week and Steve said something about how his job is to save babies. Amid much confusion I reminded him that he is an environmental engineer. He responded that his job was to clean up waste and pollution in the environment which made the world safer and healthier for everyone, including babies. Because of what he does babies don't get horrible diseases and die. I said a very timid "yeah...I guess, although I never thought of it that way." To which he replied that everyone wants to feel like their job makes a positive impact on the world and no one can argue that saving babies is the one thing that pulls on everyone's heart strings and serves the higher good. His theory is that everyone can find a way in which their job saves babies.
We tried testing out his theory on Jillian, which turned out to be pretty easy because she is a social worker in charge of a preschool that helps teach emotionally disturbed children to control their emotions and integrate into the education system. She works with the children that cannot handle traditional preschools and in the course of doing so alters these children's futures. Plus, she helps the parents with parenting tactics. Jillian saves babies in multiple ways: 1) the children are young and could still be considered babies, kind of, and she is saving them by helping them succeed in their future schooling and control their emotions by finding positive outlets, 2) teaching parenting skills saves future babies because it helps the parents nurture the children they already have and ones they may have in the future, and 3) the children Jillian helps will be more stable and responsible people, which may give their future babies a higher quality of life.
We moved on to me and decided that by teaching university students how to write more effectively, I am assisting them in becoming better critical thinkers, which means that they are less likely to become parents accidentally. If they do accidentally have babies they are more likely to raise their babies in a supportive environment. I also help my students develop their writing skills which will assist them in attaining gainful employment which provides them with a secure income that allows them to have enough money to support their baby. Thus, I save babies.
Greg saves babies by running trains safely and not derailing the train (especially on playgrounds or a maternity ward). Furthermore, 80% percent of Alaska's fuel, and all of the fuel for Anchorage International Airport is supplied by the railroad, and planes leaving ANC sometimes transport sick babies or pregnant women to Seattle for more specialized health care. He saves lots of babies.
This is a fun game and I encourage you to figure out how you save babies in your jobs and tell me in the comments. Now lets go save some babies!
We tried testing out his theory on Jillian, which turned out to be pretty easy because she is a social worker in charge of a preschool that helps teach emotionally disturbed children to control their emotions and integrate into the education system. She works with the children that cannot handle traditional preschools and in the course of doing so alters these children's futures. Plus, she helps the parents with parenting tactics. Jillian saves babies in multiple ways: 1) the children are young and could still be considered babies, kind of, and she is saving them by helping them succeed in their future schooling and control their emotions by finding positive outlets, 2) teaching parenting skills saves future babies because it helps the parents nurture the children they already have and ones they may have in the future, and 3) the children Jillian helps will be more stable and responsible people, which may give their future babies a higher quality of life.
We moved on to me and decided that by teaching university students how to write more effectively, I am assisting them in becoming better critical thinkers, which means that they are less likely to become parents accidentally. If they do accidentally have babies they are more likely to raise their babies in a supportive environment. I also help my students develop their writing skills which will assist them in attaining gainful employment which provides them with a secure income that allows them to have enough money to support their baby. Thus, I save babies.
Greg saves babies by running trains safely and not derailing the train (especially on playgrounds or a maternity ward). Furthermore, 80% percent of Alaska's fuel, and all of the fuel for Anchorage International Airport is supplied by the railroad, and planes leaving ANC sometimes transport sick babies or pregnant women to Seattle for more specialized health care. He saves lots of babies.
This is a fun game and I encourage you to figure out how you save babies in your jobs and tell me in the comments. Now lets go save some babies!
Wednesday, July 18
Cuntree
There were several humorous things that occurred during my English language teaching course last month as a result of inexperienced teachers trying to explain words and concepts. Gestures usually were involved. If you're interested in hearing more, tell me in the comments and I will share some more stories and maybe fess up to my own. However, the best story came from our very, very cool teacher about a previous course she taught.
Pronunciation is important when learning a language. You can say the right word in the correct grammatical structure, but if its not pronounced correctly (or close to correctly) people will still not be able to understand. There are several ways to help students with pronunciation, one of which is drilling. The teacher says the word correctly, the students repeat, the teacher says it again, the students repeat, etc. until the students are pronouncing it right. It is quite loud and sometimes can be heard down the hall.
Well, one teacher, bless his little heart, noticed that the students were mispronouncing the word "country," so he started to drill them. He then noticed that they were having trouble with the first part of the word and so broke it up (incorrectly, by the way) and just focused on the first part of the word.
T: count
S: count
T: count
S: count
Say it out loud as the first part of the word country if you aren't laughing in horror.
Pronunciation is important when learning a language. You can say the right word in the correct grammatical structure, but if its not pronounced correctly (or close to correctly) people will still not be able to understand. There are several ways to help students with pronunciation, one of which is drilling. The teacher says the word correctly, the students repeat, the teacher says it again, the students repeat, etc. until the students are pronouncing it right. It is quite loud and sometimes can be heard down the hall.
Well, one teacher, bless his little heart, noticed that the students were mispronouncing the word "country," so he started to drill them. He then noticed that they were having trouble with the first part of the word and so broke it up (incorrectly, by the way) and just focused on the first part of the word.
T: count
S: count
T: count
S: count
Say it out loud as the first part of the word country if you aren't laughing in horror.
As you wish
I got a surprising amount of suggestions for a new batch of lists, so at the risk of over doing the list thing, here are some more.
Top five preferences of head-to-head products:
1. pepsi over coke
2. blizzard over mcflurry
3. netflix over blockbuster
4.title wave books over barnes and noble (translation: any local bookstore over a huge chain)
5. mac over pc
Top five halloween costumes for this year in no particular order (this is a toughy as I struggle with creativity - I have to admit I found some of them on the internet):
1. an ipod commercial (all black with an ipod and dancing)
2. railroad conductor
3. ceiling fan ("go ceiling" sign and cheer)
4. Marie Antoinette (period clothing and a cake, say "let them eat cake")
5. flamenco dancer
Top five shows:
1. Daily Show/The Colbert Report
2. Sex and the City
3. My So-Called Life (I still miss it)
4. Friends
5. Dancing with the Stars
Top five cities in Spain:
1. Barcelona
2. Ronda
3. Seville
4. Madrid
5. Granada
Top five preferences of head-to-head products:
1. pepsi over coke
2. blizzard over mcflurry
3. netflix over blockbuster
4.title wave books over barnes and noble (translation: any local bookstore over a huge chain)
5. mac over pc
Top five halloween costumes for this year in no particular order (this is a toughy as I struggle with creativity - I have to admit I found some of them on the internet):
1. an ipod commercial (all black with an ipod and dancing)
2. railroad conductor
3. ceiling fan ("go ceiling" sign and cheer)
4. Marie Antoinette (period clothing and a cake, say "let them eat cake")
5. flamenco dancer
Top five shows:
1. Daily Show/The Colbert Report
2. Sex and the City
3. My So-Called Life (I still miss it)
4. Friends
5. Dancing with the Stars
Top five cities in Spain:
1. Barcelona
2. Ronda
3. Seville
4. Madrid
5. Granada
Saturday, July 14
Top Five
Top five things I like about Anchorage
1. Greg is here
2. Bear's Tooth $3 movie theater with raspberry wheat beer on tap from the local brewery
3. Good running loop from my house (even though I hate running)
4. Huge mountains that explode from the Cook Inlet
5. Sunshine all night
Top five places I want to go (as of today - tomorrow could be different)
1. England
2. Thailand
3. A yet to be decided country in South America
4. Any country in Western or Central Europe that I haven't already been to
5. The above two categories are so broad I think I'll leave this one blank
Top five reasons why I can't wait to get back to Portland
1. My family and those kiddos
2. My friends
3. Walking everywhere and having places to go for walks to
4. The vibe, man
5. The funky clothes, tattoos, and hair
Top five favorite drinks
1. tea
2. diet pepsi with lemon
3. vanilla stoli and squirt (dude - try it)
4. Ruby beer from McMenamins
5. margaritas blended with salt
Top five favorite foods
1. chicken burritos with tons of veggies and pico de gallo
2. hummas, lamb, pita bread, tomato, and cucumber
3. curry - all kinds
4. sushi
5. good hash browns
Any ideas for more top five lists you want me to make?
1. Greg is here
2. Bear's Tooth $3 movie theater with raspberry wheat beer on tap from the local brewery
3. Good running loop from my house (even though I hate running)
4. Huge mountains that explode from the Cook Inlet
5. Sunshine all night
Top five places I want to go (as of today - tomorrow could be different)
1. England
2. Thailand
3. A yet to be decided country in South America
4. Any country in Western or Central Europe that I haven't already been to
5. The above two categories are so broad I think I'll leave this one blank
Top five reasons why I can't wait to get back to Portland
1. My family and those kiddos
2. My friends
3. Walking everywhere and having places to go for walks to
4. The vibe, man
5. The funky clothes, tattoos, and hair
Top five favorite drinks
1. tea
2. diet pepsi with lemon
3. vanilla stoli and squirt (dude - try it)
4. Ruby beer from McMenamins
5. margaritas blended with salt
Top five favorite foods
1. chicken burritos with tons of veggies and pico de gallo
2. hummas, lamb, pita bread, tomato, and cucumber
3. curry - all kinds
4. sushi
5. good hash browns
Any ideas for more top five lists you want me to make?
Thursday, July 12
How Could I Forget?!?
What is an evening out in AK without a stuffed Polar Bear? Fortunately I remembered to include the moose in my original posting.
7 Glaciers
For Christmas my dad got Greg and I a gift certificate to a fancy restaurant on top of Alyeska mountain, which is the local ski resort. Tuesday night we used it and had a lovely time. We even got to take a tram to the top of the mountain. Here are some pics.
I just wanted him to give me a little kiss. I scratched his wee waddle and everything.
The view from the top of the mountain at Cook Inlet.
Because I am very classy and have to inappropriately handle my salad.
The chair lifts. the town of Girdwood, and the Cook Inlet.
Sunset at 11pm on the tramride down.
I just wanted him to give me a little kiss. I scratched his wee waddle and everything.
The view from the top of the mountain at Cook Inlet.
Because I am very classy and have to inappropriately handle my salad.
The chair lifts. the town of Girdwood, and the Cook Inlet.
Sunset at 11pm on the tramride down.
Tuesday, July 10
a brief british translation guide
You know what is frustrating? Having about 10 blog ideas written down on a piece of paper and then LOSING THE PIECE OF PAPER. I did, however, find a piece of paper from El Copetin (the mojito bar on Paseo del Born) with a British translation guide that Carly gave me. Because I am a nice person, I'll share it with you.
In order from bad to good:
rubbish
acceptable
relatively pleasant
palatable
quite refreshing
pleasant
pukka (wtf?)
quite delightful
delightful
crackin'
ace
top (only to be used in Manchester)
You can print it out and keep it in your pocket. Good luck.
In order from bad to good:
rubbish
acceptable
relatively pleasant
palatable
quite refreshing
pleasant
pukka (wtf?)
quite delightful
delightful
crackin'
ace
top (only to be used in Manchester)
You can print it out and keep it in your pocket. Good luck.
Saturday, July 7
Falling in Love
I sat down to write in my journal, but think I would rather talk to you. I'm not sure where this is going, so just bear with me.
I was talking to my dad this morning about the magic that some places in the world possess and how the type of magic is different. New York and San Francisco are two of my favorite cities of all time and my love is based on their energy and magnetism. Barcelona had a different kind of majesty. It draws me in because of its confluence of Catalan and Spanish language and culture, its history as a Roman city, and the way in which the old and modern merge to create such vibrancy.
There is a moment in which I get swept up in loving a city, in which I think that this is what life is about. For me, it boils down to falling in love. My heart leaps, my stomach comes alive, my face brightens, and I want to twirl around in circles (sometimes I do). Perhaps that is why I crave traveling and seeing new places so much - I am chasing the moment of falling in love. I can tell you where I was when each city captured my heart; the moment in which I sighed and felt the world wrap its arms around me.
When I was in high school my brother and sister-in-law lived in New York. I visited them multiple times and as they both had to work, I was left to my own devices during the day. One mid-morning I made the trek to Jen's office to meet her for lunch. I got on the subway feeling quite self-sufficient. When I stepped out of the train, there was a musician playing a song that I don't recall, but gave me butterflies. I floated up the stairs and came out of the subway station to feel the cool warmth of the winter sun on my face before being swallowed into the humanity. I looked around, breathed the energy, and just like that, I was in love.
I recall drinking a bottle of wine at the base of the Sydney Opera House. I was there on a three month backpacking honeymoon and wildly in love with my new husband. I looked across the table at Greg and then swept my eyes across the harbor, the bridge, and the skyline. It felt as if the city offered itself to me as a representative of the world waiting to be explored and in that moment it hit me how great my marriage was because I had someone to share it with. He wanted to see the world and fall in love with new places too. Sydney told me it was possible.
I was talking to my dad this morning about the magic that some places in the world possess and how the type of magic is different. New York and San Francisco are two of my favorite cities of all time and my love is based on their energy and magnetism. Barcelona had a different kind of majesty. It draws me in because of its confluence of Catalan and Spanish language and culture, its history as a Roman city, and the way in which the old and modern merge to create such vibrancy.
There is a moment in which I get swept up in loving a city, in which I think that this is what life is about. For me, it boils down to falling in love. My heart leaps, my stomach comes alive, my face brightens, and I want to twirl around in circles (sometimes I do). Perhaps that is why I crave traveling and seeing new places so much - I am chasing the moment of falling in love. I can tell you where I was when each city captured my heart; the moment in which I sighed and felt the world wrap its arms around me.
When I was in high school my brother and sister-in-law lived in New York. I visited them multiple times and as they both had to work, I was left to my own devices during the day. One mid-morning I made the trek to Jen's office to meet her for lunch. I got on the subway feeling quite self-sufficient. When I stepped out of the train, there was a musician playing a song that I don't recall, but gave me butterflies. I floated up the stairs and came out of the subway station to feel the cool warmth of the winter sun on my face before being swallowed into the humanity. I looked around, breathed the energy, and just like that, I was in love.
I recall drinking a bottle of wine at the base of the Sydney Opera House. I was there on a three month backpacking honeymoon and wildly in love with my new husband. I looked across the table at Greg and then swept my eyes across the harbor, the bridge, and the skyline. It felt as if the city offered itself to me as a representative of the world waiting to be explored and in that moment it hit me how great my marriage was because I had someone to share it with. He wanted to see the world and fall in love with new places too. Sydney told me it was possible.
In Which My Dad Is Right On
Talking to my dad on the phone this morning:
M: I had a layover in London on my way back home and stayed with my friend Sally's parents in Windsor. They took me by Windsor Castle, Eton, even the place where Prince Charles and Camilla got married...
D: So, it was a little like going to Mecca for you.
M: I had a layover in London on my way back home and stayed with my friend Sally's parents in Windsor. They took me by Windsor Castle, Eton, even the place where Prince Charles and Camilla got married...
D: So, it was a little like going to Mecca for you.
Thursday, July 5
Back in America
Overheard as I was boarding my flight from Chicago to Anchorage:
"If it's not Christian or this country, I don't care."
"If it's not Christian or this country, I don't care."
Wednesday, July 4
When My B Game is Good Enough
Saturday morning was rough. I was at a great party all night and stumbled back to my apartment at 6:30am, which is after the sun is up in Barcelona. I fell into my bed and quickly to sleep.
Three hours later I had to get up and move out of my apartment. I eventually (I'm am saving a lot of boring complaints here, so thanks are in order) made it to my friend Angela's apartment where I was fortunate enough to inhabit the living room. I laid there for a while in a half sleep, half deep thought about the unfairness of the whole concept of hangovers. I wasn't able to sleep because, as I mentioned before, I was in the living room and my friend has (lovely) roommates who got up at the reasonable hour of 11.
By 3pm my friend Sandra (who was also crashing at Angela's) and I went to meet Sally in Gracia for food. All of us were hungover for the second or third night in a row. We had all had very minimal sleep. We all felt like shit, and let me tell you, I really looked like shit. It didn't matter, though. It didn't matter that I didn't have my A game; that I was lucky if I could bring my B game to the table. I didn't have to wow them with stories or wit. I could put everything else aside and just be myself. It dawned on me that perhaps this is what friendship is: feeling like crap and wanting to be with them regardless. Knowing that they already love me, accept me, and we can set everything else aside. We were too tired for pretense so we got the core of each other for the day. It was perfect.
We found this wonderful Lebanese restaurant and sat there for 5 hours watching the summer rain come and go. In those 5 hours we laughed so hard we cried, chatted about nothing, shared, talked, and sometimes, we were just quiet. Angela joined us later in the day - I'm not even sure when. I was content.
The table of locals sitting next to us asked us to join them and help them eat their food. We did and had a great time talking in a combination of Spanish and English about all sorts of things. We begrudgingly left at 11 to go meet friends for drinks at another bar. For the second time that day I was struck with the depth of experience that was showing itself to me. What a great country, I thought, where an American, a Canadian, a New Zealander and a girl from Wales can sit at a table for most of the day and end up sharing dinner - sharing plates, even - with the Lebanese and Spanish folks at the next table. We were all able to come together across nationalities and languages to share a meal, the most simple and meaningful of things, and walk away having created something rare: a real connection.
Three hours later I had to get up and move out of my apartment. I eventually (I'm am saving a lot of boring complaints here, so thanks are in order) made it to my friend Angela's apartment where I was fortunate enough to inhabit the living room. I laid there for a while in a half sleep, half deep thought about the unfairness of the whole concept of hangovers. I wasn't able to sleep because, as I mentioned before, I was in the living room and my friend has (lovely) roommates who got up at the reasonable hour of 11.
By 3pm my friend Sandra (who was also crashing at Angela's) and I went to meet Sally in Gracia for food. All of us were hungover for the second or third night in a row. We had all had very minimal sleep. We all felt like shit, and let me tell you, I really looked like shit. It didn't matter, though. It didn't matter that I didn't have my A game; that I was lucky if I could bring my B game to the table. I didn't have to wow them with stories or wit. I could put everything else aside and just be myself. It dawned on me that perhaps this is what friendship is: feeling like crap and wanting to be with them regardless. Knowing that they already love me, accept me, and we can set everything else aside. We were too tired for pretense so we got the core of each other for the day. It was perfect.
We found this wonderful Lebanese restaurant and sat there for 5 hours watching the summer rain come and go. In those 5 hours we laughed so hard we cried, chatted about nothing, shared, talked, and sometimes, we were just quiet. Angela joined us later in the day - I'm not even sure when. I was content.
The table of locals sitting next to us asked us to join them and help them eat their food. We did and had a great time talking in a combination of Spanish and English about all sorts of things. We begrudgingly left at 11 to go meet friends for drinks at another bar. For the second time that day I was struck with the depth of experience that was showing itself to me. What a great country, I thought, where an American, a Canadian, a New Zealander and a girl from Wales can sit at a table for most of the day and end up sharing dinner - sharing plates, even - with the Lebanese and Spanish folks at the next table. We were all able to come together across nationalities and languages to share a meal, the most simple and meaningful of things, and walk away having created something rare: a real connection.
Prepare to be wooed
I'm in the Chicago airport. I am tired. I have to pay for the internet and am cranky as a result.
In addition to the above facts, I just caught up on my good friend Scott's blog and he has made the commitment to write on his blog everyday for a week. I wonder whether I have the will power to do the same. I should (hopefully) have some new readers and I did notice that last week I had no visitors (again), so perhaps it is time to do a wooing campaign. Ok. That's it. I'll do it. Every day for a week. Starting today. *
*I am stopping the post here so that I have two posts today, which can act as my "get out of jail free card" for when I eventually forget a day.
In addition to the above facts, I just caught up on my good friend Scott's blog and he has made the commitment to write on his blog everyday for a week. I wonder whether I have the will power to do the same. I should (hopefully) have some new readers and I did notice that last week I had no visitors (again), so perhaps it is time to do a wooing campaign. Ok. That's it. I'll do it. Every day for a week. Starting today. *
*I am stopping the post here so that I have two posts today, which can act as my "get out of jail free card" for when I eventually forget a day.
Saturday, June 30
To all you CELTA people looking for pictures
They´ll be up soon. Gimme a week or two.
(I think you´re great, by the way)
(I think you´re great, by the way)
The Love Story
Remember my friends Taya and Scott? The ones that got engaged a while ago? Well, they´ve both written their love story and you can find it here. Read it, sigh, and get swept away with how wonderful love is.
PS I make a guest appearance in both stories as one of the new friends who accept that they belong together.
PS I make a guest appearance in both stories as one of the new friends who accept that they belong together.
Tuesday, June 26
A quick note
I don´t have a lot of time before class starts, so I am going to make this story quick.
Barcelona has a (deserved) reputation for petty crime, especially pick-pockets and bag snatching. In fact, three of my friends have had their bag snatched from them while they were holding them. I am generally very careful with my bag and belongings, but in a moment of ditsiness last Saturday night I was standing in the Metro station on my way to meet my friends at the bar trying to figure out how I got my keys and camera in my itty-bitty purse when this guy came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed to the €20 bill sitting next to my foot. By the time I was done bending down to get it he had disappeared into the crowd. I hadn´t noticed the money had fallen out of my purse and he could have grabbed it and walked away without my realizing what had happened. But he didn´t. As a woman gave me a knowing smile about how lucky I was to keep my €20, I thought to myself how lucky I am to be in Barcelona.
I really love this city.
Barcelona has a (deserved) reputation for petty crime, especially pick-pockets and bag snatching. In fact, three of my friends have had their bag snatched from them while they were holding them. I am generally very careful with my bag and belongings, but in a moment of ditsiness last Saturday night I was standing in the Metro station on my way to meet my friends at the bar trying to figure out how I got my keys and camera in my itty-bitty purse when this guy came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed to the €20 bill sitting next to my foot. By the time I was done bending down to get it he had disappeared into the crowd. I hadn´t noticed the money had fallen out of my purse and he could have grabbed it and walked away without my realizing what had happened. But he didn´t. As a woman gave me a knowing smile about how lucky I was to keep my €20, I thought to myself how lucky I am to be in Barcelona.
I really love this city.
Tuesday, June 12
Whatsa Happenin'
Things here are going quite well. I love Barcelona and feel wildly content walking down the streets to school while basking in the glamor of Barcelona, Spain, and Europe in general. It is quite geeky, actually.
School has been pretty hard. Tonight I don't have much homework, but I put in a good 13 day (minus lunch) yesterday and it looks like I'll have to do the same tomorrow. I'm not complaining though. It is intellectually stimulating and I am having a lot of fun. We spend the afternoons teaching and I taught my last class to the beginners today. I am moving on to advanced intermediate tomorrow and the complete lack of understanding conveyed through blank stares when I say words like "arrive" will be replaced by the complete lack of understanding as I try to explain grammatical concepts. I plan on developing a more intimate relationship with my grammar books and confusion. It'll just get worse when I move on to the advanced students in another week or so.
A bunch of us went to the beach last Saturday and I am struck by how wonderful it is to be living on the Mediterranean. I mentioned that the people I work with are fabulous, but I have to say it again. I am infatuated with the vast majority of them and sometimes have to pinch myself. While my learning of the Spanish language has subsided slightly because of how much I am in class, my knowledge of British English has exploded.
I'm sorry this post isn't well written or elegant. I feel like I need to talk to you all, but my creative juices aren't necessarily flowing. Perhaps next time.
School has been pretty hard. Tonight I don't have much homework, but I put in a good 13 day (minus lunch) yesterday and it looks like I'll have to do the same tomorrow. I'm not complaining though. It is intellectually stimulating and I am having a lot of fun. We spend the afternoons teaching and I taught my last class to the beginners today. I am moving on to advanced intermediate tomorrow and the complete lack of understanding conveyed through blank stares when I say words like "arrive" will be replaced by the complete lack of understanding as I try to explain grammatical concepts. I plan on developing a more intimate relationship with my grammar books and confusion. It'll just get worse when I move on to the advanced students in another week or so.
A bunch of us went to the beach last Saturday and I am struck by how wonderful it is to be living on the Mediterranean. I mentioned that the people I work with are fabulous, but I have to say it again. I am infatuated with the vast majority of them and sometimes have to pinch myself. While my learning of the Spanish language has subsided slightly because of how much I am in class, my knowledge of British English has exploded.
I'm sorry this post isn't well written or elegant. I feel like I need to talk to you all, but my creative juices aren't necessarily flowing. Perhaps next time.
Saturday, June 2
Report
My First Day of Class:
- went pretty well.
- was very hot as the building has no air conditioning and the classrooms were chock full of people.
- was exciting because of the very cool people I am taking the class with. We went for drinks after and I cannot remember the last time I had so much fun with people I didn´t know. I think they may be the best part of the deal.
- was frustrating because we had to teach and I had beginner students that had a hard time following my instructions. I don´t consider myself especially verbose, but I definitely talked too much and used words that were too big. It was harder than my first day teaching college kids.
- was scary because of how much work the rest of the course is going to be.
My apartment:
- has a great view. I look out a market, a beautiful street, trees, and lots of other great things. I will post some photos later.
- is really high up. It is supposedly on the 4th floor but I hike up 8 flights. The 25 minute walk (through Old Town and the Gothic Quarter) to and from school and these stairs I should keep the weight from all the wine I am drinking off.
- is owned by a really nice lady.
- is shared with another student from my course. She´s from Sweden originally but has lived in London for the past 15 years (where she used to own a bookstore focusing on literary criticism and poetry). She is fantastic and we hit it off immediately.
- is really, really hot. I need to invest in a fan. (But where does one go to buy a cheap fan, especially when one doesn´t know the Spanish - or more importantly Catalan - word for fan?)
- has a shower head that is in the tub and no shower curtain which means I take a shower by sitting in the tub and moving the shower head around.
A few other points:
- I am typing on a Spanish keyboard and the keys are just a little off of what I am used to, so every once is a while I am surprised when something like ñ or ç pops up on the screen instead of what I am used to being on that key.
- My feet are swollen because of the heat.
- My mom is still here and that is nice.
- Wine really is cheaper than water - €1.50 for a glass! And it´s good! I´ve been drinking way more.
- I heart tapas.
- I double-heart paseos.
- Nothing is written in Spanish. Everything is in Catalonian, the local language that is as different from Spanish as Italian.
Wednesday, May 30
French or Spanish?
G: What date should I put the house on the market?
M: I'm not sure. I'm not so good at practical right now. In my pretty little head we're moving to Spain, so why don't you do the decision making.
G: Moving to Spain? That is a long flight for the kitties.
M: They'll be fine and they'll love evening paseos.
G: But they only speak French!
M: I'm not sure. I'm not so good at practical right now. In my pretty little head we're moving to Spain, so why don't you do the decision making.
G: Moving to Spain? That is a long flight for the kitties.
M: They'll be fine and they'll love evening paseos.
G: But they only speak French!
Notes From Spain
I'm in Madrid's train station about to get on the Ave - the fast train - and thought I would share a few pictures with you. Words would take too long, but pictures will do.
Lisbon, Portugal - I started my trip here with Mom and HW.
Flamenco recital with little kids and adults. It was wonderful and we were the only tourists there. Cordoba.
Cordoba's Moorish Mosque.
My travel partners
Mom and I
I fell in love with Ronda and it was torture to have to leave.
The Alambra in Granada
Billboard along the side of the road in Andalucia.
Mom and Kathy navigating Madrid from the backseat.
More later. The train is calling my name.
Lisbon, Portugal - I started my trip here with Mom and HW.
Flamenco recital with little kids and adults. It was wonderful and we were the only tourists there. Cordoba.
Cordoba's Moorish Mosque.
My travel partners
Mom and I
I fell in love with Ronda and it was torture to have to leave.
The Alambra in Granada
Billboard along the side of the road in Andalucia.
Mom and Kathy navigating Madrid from the backseat.More later. The train is calling my name.
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