Wednesday, June 29, 2005

...and an updatie WILL be had

Hola.

I'm not sure how I'm going to update this. My roommate, Katie, is stretched out on her bed snoring, and I'm sitting here listening to music and trying to figure out what I'm going to update about.

Her phone just rang. It goes "Black Magic Woman." I know that there's more to the song, only with my headphones already on, it's kind of hard to hear what else her phone is singing.

So school looks like it's going to be school after all. I'm reading a novella called "El túnel" (quite literally translated, it roughly means, "The Tunnel") and the art I'm studing in art history has some of the Romanesque and Gothic stuff from last quarter, except this time questions like these are thrown in:

"How does this make you FEEL"?
"Do you LIKE this?"
"WHY do you THINK that?"
"WHY do YOU think the artist PAINTED like that?"

After school, I've been walking around. Today, after I came back and put my stuff down after my last class at three, I walked over to the Prado and this huge park called the Parque del Buen Retiro. Which I think means "the park of the good retreat" or something. My computer dictionary only has retirar in there, so I'm only guessing. And that picture is of someone random. I found it on Google.

So that spent about 1.5 hours to walk to. Walked around there, looked at the crystal palace, the man feeding turtles in a pond, and walked back via Gran Vía and Calle Princesa. And Puerta del Sol.

Damn this internet connection to hell. I always get disconnected. I didn't think any internet connection could be conceivably worse than what we have in Newhall, but I have been proven wrong. As I always am in matters of computer and people.

This weekend Katie, Sheila, one other girl and three other guys are going to Morocco. I'm going to Toledo for a day, going around Madrid for another, and then the third I'm not sure. Maybe El Escorial or to the Valley of the Fallen. Ernest Hemingway's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" was written around there, and there’s a big hill with a HUGE cross on it and where Franco is buried. The prisoners of the Republican army after the Civil War built it, and lots of them died while working on it.

The internet still isn’t working. I’m writing this on word.

For the benefit of the people who I’m not in daily contact with, I’ll talk a little bit about the people who I see often enough at school to find out what they’re really like.

Samantha - the girl who goes to UIC. She’s cool because she’s not taken a Spanish class for 9 years and we still talk in Spanish whenever we do talk. She hates it when the kids at school don’t speak Spanish or when they “ACT LIKE FUCKING TOURISTS AT THE BARS AND ARE ALL LIKE ‘QUE ESTUDIAS’ ‘COMO ESTAS’” (she went out last night and got really annoyed with the kids around her). She's 24, and she has a boyfriend who was in a band and on tour in Germany last month. She doesn't know what music he plays because she thinks it probably sucks and if she doesn't hear it, she doesn't have to pretend to like it. She’s got pretty cool roommates named
Amanda, Katie, and Elizabeth - Amanda (ballerina) Katie (gets hit on by all the guys here) Elizabeth (has been here since the first summer session. She knows Spanish well)
Esther – met her in flamenco class. She is as uncoordinated as me, and she is very tall. She’s very nice.
Scarlett – we go to the grocery store to get figs and fruits for lunch because we’ve realized that the señoras aren’t too keen about fruit in the house. Actually, they’re really basically only keen about lard.
Alex – a girl I’d rather not see, but she’s always around. She’s loud, and she kisses up to the teacher like no one I’ve ever seen.
Julia – she’s also loud and she thinks she’s “the shit.” And she’s in my art history class. However, whenever she opens her mouth I want to run into a wall. Today’s question included:
“How come Jesus doesn’t have body hair anywhere? Were the painters just not big on body hair? Because, I mean, he was a GUY and guys have hair all over”

1 Comments:

At 4:47 PM, Blogger Sarah said...

I'm jealous of your adventures. Except I'm not jealous of being around the girl who talks about Jesus' body hair

 

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