Well who saw this coming.....

So today was the big day! Meeting our senoras!!

This morning we were supposed to meet our senoras in the lobby of the hostal at our scheduled pick up times. My time was 11 a.m., so I woke up early, repacked my life into my two suitcases and showered 'cause I didn't want my senora to think I reeked of Hannigan's regularly. Yick. Now I am not sure how familiar you are with European elevators, but they're more or less made for one person. And maybe a broom, if you're lucky, or a pretzel stick. Janet would definitley have some trouble I think. So Kaye and MP load me into this deathtrap and lower me down to the first floor. It's a good thing I'm not claustrophic or I would have been forced to drag my 170 pounds of luggage down 210 stairs. Lug lug lug, Lo siento! Lug lug lug. That's not any fun. The elevator, if you can even call it that, stopped at every floor on the way down, and everyone opened the door, looked in and saw me squished to the back, holding my breath to conserve oxygen, and made this sound "EEEEE!". Something screwed up and sent me straight back up to the 5th floor with Kaye and MP and by this point I was laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. Not really, but it was hilarious.

Now when I'm downstairs, I'm rehearsing in my head everything I want to say to my senora when I meet her. "Mucho gusto! Me llamo Kelly!" (I seriously debated telling her my name is Kelly-jandro. Kelly-kelly jandddro for the Gaga fans reading this). I asked Miguel how to translate "Sorry I have so much stuff," and I think what he told me was "Lo siento pero tengo mi novio en my equipaje"....which translates roughly to "Sorry, but I brought my boyfriend in my suitcase".

I sit by the side of the lobby with my mountain of stuff I probably didn't need (you were...right, Mom) and I watch all the lovely little senoras come to pick up their students. Every time one walked in the door, I looked at her kind of hopefully, and thought "oooh! she might be mine!" Some of them were so cute. If I hadn't brought some much stuff I seriously contemplated snatching a pocket-sized one up and shoving her into my carry-on.

So I wait and I wait, anxiously awaiting the arrival of my senora. As I watched all of my friends scamper off with their new old lady friends, bravely attempting to help carry their bags and luggage, I felt like I was on the island of misfit toys as everyone else got scooped up and I was left behind. Don't you go feeling bad for me, I spent my time trying to convince a senora to just take me in (jokingly) because mine was so late. "Que es una mas?" Jajaja (That's some Spanish laughter right there).

Well, they called my senora. And called her. And called her. Now I'm freakin' out. Great. I've got the senora that's gone and kicked it. So they plop me in a Taxi and drive me to her house with one of the directors Violeta. Ojala para Violeta. So we show up to the address and I've never been more uncomfortable in my life. Except maybe for the time I fell off that treadmill at Cardinal.

She rings the buzzer and whaddya know!? Senora esta en casa! But she had NO idea I was coming! Just try and imagine this little blonde girl showing up at your house with enough luggage to clothe a small family in Uzbekistan saying "I'M HEREEEE!" Now I couldn't fully understand what passed between Violeta and my senora, or "senora" I suppose since she doesn't really know about me..., because they were speaking so fast and cutting each other off like....like I did..that one eventful night in Lockport. So if you've ever flipped through a telenovela, this is what passed. A lot of raised voices and "ayyys" passing through the intercom, all the while with me standing by the curb trying to balance my luggage like a lost puppy. I know that's a terrible cliche, but really, I think that applies. That or I felt like a child meeting their father for the first time...and their father didn't know this person even existed. So you can imagine, I was damn excited to live with this senora for the next couple a months.

Next thing I know, we're trucking along the street, me flailing to keep up with Violeta, sweating because I still can't understand degrados celsia and I thought 12 degress Celsius would be chilly, so I wore a sweater and a parka basically because I like to be prepared for an arctic chill. She takes me to an apartment nearby where I more or less crashed another girl's "senora party". Oh hey. I'm just gonna hang out here, ya know. Til I find a home.

Lunch, or almuerzo was interesting. We had some type of filet, but I couldn't tell if it was pork or fish. I guess that's more of a personal problem..but we also ate some mushy green soup, mmm, and salad with little pointy pickles in them. But I was ready to gnaw my own hand off so I ate it.

That is where I leave you thus far, on my misadventures. I'll keep you posted if I ever get taken. This is like not getting picked for dodgeball, times a thousand. Put me IN coach!

Hasta Luego