Chewbacca's in the Bathroom

Hola Hola Coca Cola!
Well since I last updated this thing, a lot has happened! Let's see, let's start with last weekend when we all went to Sierra Nevada to go skiing.

We got up ridiculously early to meet at Isabel Catolica (a fountain in the center of the city) at 7 a.m. to catch the bus to the mountain. At this hour, because it takes the sun longer to rise over the mountains, it's pitch black out. If I hadn't looked at a watch, I would have assumed it was 2 or 3 in the morning. So after munching on a hearty breakfast of gummy worms I found in the bottom of my purse I bought the night before, we got to the bus station. Luckily, we were able to rent skis and stuff there for pretty cheap! As always, a little bit of drama follows the American stragglers everywhere, and MaryPat was called an imbecile by a Spanish lady because she accidentally whacked her in the head with her skis. "You say that you are very sorry but you are not, imbecile!" jajajaja

After a pretty twisty ride up the mountain, and many attempts to pop my ears, we finally arrived at the base of the mountain. The town, which I shall refer to as Christmas Town because I don't know its actual name, and it looks like the town from Nightmare Before Christmas (solid movie, by the way, if you haven't seen it, it rivals The Labrynth except without the David-Bowie factor), was adorable. MP and I bartered with a Moroccan man for some gloves and then we were on our way! Now, I used to ski with my family all the time, as a nina. Somehow I assumed skiing was a skill you just don't lose.... I was sorely (yeah, that's a pun right thurr) mistaken. Madre Mia, I was terrible in the beginning. Good thing MaryPat was blessed with enough patience to try and re-teach me how to ski; I mean, I still ended up making out with the mountain for a lot of the day, but she kept me alive up there.

After spending the morning following the little ones who are a quarter of my age zip down the mountain, we decided it was time to upgrade to where the rest of the group was. On the way, MP's cell fell out of her pocket on the chairlift. Shiza. That's not Spanish, exactly, but it gets the point across. When we got to the top, the only runs we could take down to where she had lost her phone were Blue runs....I had only practiced on Greens, which mean "easy"....

Now, the view from the higher part of the mountain was spectacular! Keep in mind, I only got to see it for a view brief seconds in between scampering after MaryPat and trying not to die. After a particularly awkward fall in which my body, my ski poles, and my skis went in opposite directions and I ended up more twisted than some trippy-hippie dreadlocks (even their DOGS' hair is dreadlocked here-- they don't mess around- they hard core), a very kind spaniard offered to help me get upright. Because I presumed he didn't understand English, I muttered how much I wish I was in America, because that would make ghetto-skiing that much easier. Turns out, he understood, 'cause he laughed. But he might have been laughing at the fact that I was a first-time skiier wearing a knee-length Liz Claiborne coat, pajama bottoms, and probably black-market gloves.

After a few more run-ins with a fence and some chicken wire, we were hungry. So we scurried down to the base to get our bocadillos (sandwiches, but way more fun to say) from the locker. We. Were. Famished. And just our luck, when we opened up the locker, in MP's bag where her two bocadillos, fruit and nuts were supposed to be....was....a head of cauliflower! She grabbed the wrong bag from the fridge! Her poor Senora..probably wondering how she was going to make cauliflower soup without the cauliflower...No I just playin'---POOR MARYPAT! She's a great sport though, and we all shared what we could with her.

So that was skiing. Other eventful things that ha pasado...hmmm.

OH. The first time my senora did my laundry was interesting. The itty bitty washing machine is in the bathroom, right next to the bidet (thanks Sarah!) and the thing is a monster. She didn't tell me she was doing laundry, and I was sitting in my room, listenin' to my Sony, chewin' on bubble gum (Herman the worm anyone? No? Okay), I literally hear a noise I can only equate with Chewbacca. Chewbacca has somehow scurried up 7 stories and snuck in the bathroom and was making a ruckus in there. When I ran to ask Lina what was the matter, she laughed at me and explained my dirty clothes were aggravating her lavadora....whoops.

Saturday wa sour first experience with a discoteca..they open around 2 a.m. here and close at 7, 'cause they take their partying very seriously here. The first one we went to was in the barrio Sacromonte, and it was so-so. There were lots of little caves, and tunnels, and the whole time I felt like I was playing Mario64 and was stuck in an underwater level. Except these ones didn't have red coins in Giant clams...

Speaking of clams, I ate some! On Saturday, we had a four-hour seafood lunch, and...I liked it. Sorpresa! We had fried clams (I think, can you fry those?), calamari, octopus, shrimp, and SHARK. I don't know how I feel about eating Jaws on a regular basis, but it was good for that one time. (That's what she said...?)

Alright, amigos, I'm out.