Mad-town

Lived up to its nickname. Madrid was insane. (Disclaimer: I'm not about to pretend that I'm getting used to this ridiculous "hopping-from-amazing-foreign-city-to-the-next" lifestyle...or that I'm not still waiting for my alarm to go off and wake up in a crappy twin bed in Worcester, Massachusetts.) But I'm doing my best to take advantage of "the Fun Express"--P.S. thanks for that phrase, Pops. And for everything else.
So, back to the weekend. Jenna and I flew from Pisa to Madrid on Friday morning. I sat next to a girl from Long Island. What the hell? Found our hostel in the Salamanca district of the city no problem. Checked into room 55--since been nicknamed the "Honeymoon Suite"-- because when we opened the door we found that we had accidentally booked a "double room" meaning ONE double bed. Proceeded to have a pretty solid chuckle at what the concierge must have been thinking. So what if we're a young lesbian American couple? (This picture illustrates the size of the 'loveshack' please ignore the size of my body. It's a problem.)
We mastered yet another subway system and found ourselves in Plaza del Sol--which I have incredibly vague recollections of from New Years 2006 when we were visiting Cate... I'm sure most of you remember those stories. I have a scar, if not. But the weather was beautiful so we wandered around the city with Jenna's friend from high school, Eva. She was an absolute riot, and she took us to get some authentic Spanish cuisine- that, let's face it, sucks. But that's okay because it was accompanied by delicious sangria. After some more eating and wandering we returned to our hotel for a nap. I am, for the record, in full support of a culture that has naps built in to their day. So we met up that night and had a SUPER fancy dinner of Doner Kebab and giant beers. Solid. We were, unfortunately, seated across from a group of hyper-sexual Spanish preteens. Who are just as bad as Italians at controlling their PDA. Gross.
After meeting up with Eva's friends from school we found ourselves in the infamous cave bar. (Made infamous by one Catherine Evans Morin--it was the only place in the whole city she told me to go. True story.) El Chapandaz, as I guess it thinks it should be called, is exactly as I said. A bar that is cave-themed. The entire interior looks like a cave, complete with a specialty drink called "Panther Milk" that pours from a stalactite hanging from the ceiling. Outrageous. We obviously took advantage and danced the night away to a playlist that I would have compiled in the 5th grade. Not kidding. "I Want it That Way" by the Backstreet Boys and "Wannabe" the Spice Girls hit single in 1996 both played.
The next day consisted of more wandering around the city. Visiting an incredible farmer's market-type place and being scared half to death by the "street performers" in Madrid. Who don't do anything impressive. They just dress up as scary things and make noises at you. This was my (least) favorite.


Jenna and I really wanted to see a Flamenco show, but due to poor planning and a general laziness on our part, we only put forth an effort about 2 hours before one would start. Apparently they require more notice. Woops. So we shared a hilarious, romantic dinner for two. Just to keep up the appearance of a honeymooning couple, I guess. Yeah, Spanish food, you're nothing to write home about.
That night we ventured out to a super authentic Spanish hotspot called "Dubliners Pub" (....) After we got over the culture shock it turned out to be an outrageous night. When we arrived there was a rowdy group of men in the back of the bar all wearing funny red hats. It quickly became obvious that they were a bachelor party and not long after we became their honored guests. "Where are you girls from?" "America." "AMERICA?! We LOVE America." They were British. And middle aged. And very drunk. After I told one of them I was from California he told me that he lived there for 4 months working on a walnut farm...close to...Pismo Beach? (the ellipses are meant to illustrate how long it took him to formulate these thoughts) Turns out this goofus worked in Paso Robles. What the hell are the chances? Anyways. We spent the rest of the night with these group of hilarious men. The fact that the buckets of Corona just kept on comin' wasn't turning us away... at one point I was leading a limbo with a man nicknamed (not inappropriately) "Big John". He will be the gentleman using my hair as a mustache.. Yep. That about sums that up.
Travel home the next day was annoying, but we made it. Ready to face another week of school before we head of to Venice this weekend :) Another week of school, minus university tomorrow because the students are striking. On Monday in class our professor (who bears a disturbing resemblance to Queen Elizabeth) informed us that the students would be striking on Wednesday and there would be no class. Things that don't happen in the US: that.
Today was also my first day doing my actual cultural project. Who's surprised that the Liberation Movement made me just a liiiiiitle uncomfortable? So now I'm helping in a CCD class once a week. Much more my style. The class is for 5th graders, and today I was much more of a participant than a teacher. The girl sitting next to me explained that the Bible is divided into two parts. The first part is before Jesus was born and the second is after. So long, Holy Cross. I've got all the religious studies I need right here. Taught by an 11-year-old. Who later asked if I was 16. I don't want to talk about it.
This is obviously really long because I don't want to do my homework...Hope you're all enjoying my rambling. Hell, I hope reading this is keeping you from doing something productive! Va bene.
Miss and love you all. Baci!