A day in the life

Sooo last time I wrote I mentioned running. Hasn't happened since. Well, maybe once, but that's it. Every night, Liz asks me if I want to go running with her the next morning, and every night I say, "Sure!" The next morning, Liz's alarm goes off at 7:30, and she asks if I want to join her. I mumble something in sleep-jibberish before rolling back over to sleep for another hour or two. The one morning I actually ran, it was completely black out. There were actually still a few stars in the sky.

I was actually talking to Alejandro today about running, or at least I thought that's what we were talking about. He was talking in the past tense, and I thought he said something about carrera, which means a run, and was under the impression he was referring to how he didn't have much time or desire to run. I responded that I didn't like to run much either, that I preferred fun activities for exercise. He agreed, but then said when he was in school, they didn't have enough time for fun activities with the work they had to do. That's when I realized that he'd been talking about his education the whole time, and had said "tenia la carreta llena," which means weighed down with stuff, NOT carrera.

Also, Liz today asked for seeds instead of stamps accidentally.

The other day, Katie McLean, after dropping a jar of marmalade, asked her host mom, "Where's the joke? There's a mess in the folder!" instead of "Where's the broom, there's a mess on the floor!"

We don't have class until 10 every day, and it's only for an hour before we go home for siesta. (Except for Mondays, when we watch a movie for our film class from 1100 to 1300.) Then we go back from 1700 to 1900 for another class. Dinner isn't until 2130, so sometimes we go out for tapas right after class to stave off hunger. I'm a huge fan of the tortilla española, which is basically a quiche with eggs and lots of potatoes. Starch central.

Also, our family thinks that "dessert" means fruit or sugar-free yogurt. Not acceptable in my world. Liz and I stop by the sweet shops almost every day on our way to and from class, and stare in at

the chocolates and churros and tiramisu,

and cakes and truffles and almond cookies, too.

We look and we look and our eyes get real big,

And our stomachs yell out, "Just be a pig!

It's your right and your honor, after days with no sweets,

Please, oh please, just give us some treats!"

Most of the time, we walk on by,

But on those day when we think we might die

Days when our tongues can no longer recall

The taste of anything sweet, no nothing at all.

We slip in and dare to spend a euro or two,

On the most delicious goodies in Pasteleria Andaluz.

Dr. Seuss imitation because sugar makes me feel like a little kid. Apparently I still do the same "happy dance" when I'm excited for food that I did when I was eating in a high chair. I think I just wiggle around a bit in my chair and wave my hands at my side and smile really big; it's subconscious, but people always tell me when I'm doing it.

The one sweet we did get at home one time had two ingredients; the yoke of an egg and sugar. Bizarre, but it was sweet, so I enjoyed it.

Also, my milk consumption has gone from the 5+ glasses a day I'd consume in the states to 0. I know it's a Hogue thing, but I swear I can feel my bones already starting to deteriorate.

Anyhow, for more details about the food here, I think at least 50% of Liz's blog is dedicated to describing our meals.