Que pasa en el barrio...

Ok, so I give in. The past five months have been nothing but complaints from me about how much Spain sucks, but whatever; this is my life now, so I'm gunna love it. This new optimistic point-of-view may just be because I've had a good day, but hopefully it doesn't wear off with the caffiene.

I spent the day in Valencia with my friend Ben, and the elements were pretty miserable because it was raining the entire time, and the sky was completely overcast. So why the good mood, some might ask? Well, I think that most of my hatred towards Spain and its inhabitants come from the Colegio Adventista prison that I live in, so getting off campus for a day and realizing that I can, in fact, leave whenever I want was a good feeling. I think that up until now, I've always restricted myself to going out only when my girlfriends were going out (not that that's horrible b/c we always have a blast), but I think that I'd come to feel as if I'd lost control over my life, and that there was no freedom anymore. Also, don't get me wrong, I love to party, but it seems like I only go off campus to do so, and that's not all my life is about. I miss the nerd inside who likes to sit in Starbucks all day reading and who goes out just to enjoy the city and its people. With that said, this is indeed what I did today....and holy crap did it feel good. The rain almost made it better because we got to see the city in a different light: the streets were practically empty and the buildings just seemed different. Ben showed me a couple of funky barrios (neighborhoods) with crazy wall-art and stuff, and I picked up a kebob at Sophia (not to be mistaken for Sofra), so, to make a not-so-long-story even shorter, my little outing today was the much-needed medicine that I was looking for. Plus, it was cool to hang out with someone new. Let's see how long this mood will last...

New Phylums

So Laura and I were out running the other day, and, como siempre, we had to stop for a moment at my favorite spot in Spain: the one on the overpass directly above the center lane of oncoming traffic. Now it's not the Lake District or anything, but it's my thing...you know? Anyways, the only irksome aspect about my spot is that sometimes...well...all the time, as the truckers pass by and see those of the fairer gender staring down, they honk....very obnoxiously. Yea yea...old news. However, the last time Laurita and I were on the overpass, we discovered an entirely new breed of truck. Instead of our usual camionophalic specie, two trucks of the I-have-a-horn-that-sounds-like-a-whistle breed, passed right on under. We were rather taken aback actually, because you know somethings wrong when truck start sounding like chauvanistic men.