I Look Spanish... Until I Open My Mouth

Please treat the date of this post as a warning that I may be posting on Saturdays as often as Fridays.  Forgive me in advance.  This week, my excuse of choice is that I’ve been sickish since Thursday and it’s incredibly hot here.

Spain is incredible.  The people here have a sense of community that I haven’t witnessed anywhere else.  Policemen help old men to their seats at soccer matches.  Random people strike up conversations on the metro.  Café owners politely tolerate the broken Spanish of a young woman who just wants a chocolate croissant, dammit.

Get Excited, Breeches

I'm in Spain.  Derek and I switched blogging days again, so I will be posting this Friday and you all may start posting whenever you want.  That is all.

-Rachael

So it has come to this...

It is the last week of Short Term. There is a large party being thrown in my house currently. What am I doing? Embroidering my underwear with sassy phrases next to a feverish, sleeping boy who has taken shelter in my room because he wants some sleep but the first floor of Hayes is too noisy. So. I'm doing needlework and have become the caretaker of a sick human. I am a mother. I am what a person might call the life of the party, if said person was being sarcastic. I am actually really, very content.

The Breaking of the Fellowship

You Have Options: Video or Text. (Each has some information that the other does not, so choose wisely. Or be the wisest of all the blog-audience and just skip over my post completely.)

Vlog or Blog, you decide.

"To old friends who deserved better than they got."

Well, this week's post title comes from none other than Rothfuss's Wise Man's Fear.  I felt compelled to take a picture of that page when I read it, that's how much I like it.

Poor Derek fits into the category of old friends who deserved better; his Ducks did not move on to the next hockey chapter, whatever that would be called.  I know I've been a vocal complainer of all things hockey on this blog, but I really did want them to win, especially after watching three games with him while I was in Middlebury.  I now know 100x more about hockey than I ever thought I would.  Ask me a question--there's a small chance I'll know the answer.  As Kvothe said about learning Adema, my hockenese has "progressed to the point where I could actually be considered inarticulate, as opposed to just confusing."  Maybe that's not a perfect fit, but I read it today, so it came into my mind.

Climbed a mountain and I turned around.

Hello, hello. I have one class left in 14th grade, and then some finals. Which, if I think about them, get me a little stressed. 'Cause one of them is a 3,000 word schmangarang due on Tuesday. I'm kinda over those sorta things. I'll get through it. Maybe. I'm flying home on the 18th. I really don't want that to happen because I'll miss my friends, especially those who are seniors, so I'll never see them again except when I do. I really do want that to happen, though, because it will mean I'm done with finals. And I'll be able to see you guys at home. Well, those of you that are at home. Rachael is here right now. Here as in Middlebury. Let's talk about that, shall we?