Things not to do in public.

There are a few things that you should never do in public:

1. Makeout in bus stops. The teenagers here have no where else to make out, it seems, because bus stops seem to be the place to get some action.

2. Read Chelsea Handler's books, or anything comical. People really are quite unaccepting to a person snorting and laughing continuously while reading. I learned this while laughing in a bus stop by two hormone induced 12 year olds who found my uncontrollable laughter to be a bit disturbing during their pre-mature makeout. The fact that they are younger than my sister wasn't the issue, just my disruption.

3. Lie on the ground in order to take a picture of the very tall church. Erin, who happens to be just about the tallest girl I know, and who I am determined to force into a modeling career, accomplished this, took a fabulous picture I am sure, and managed to get more glares than Josh McDaniels will get next time I get around to being able to watch a Broncos game.

As for an update on Spain: I just got back from a weekend in Salamanca. If you are ever in Spain, please go there. I have only been to a few places so far, but Salamanca is amazing. We got up Friday morning and our little ma had gone off for her weekend of sun-tanning in the Canary Islands while we packed every possible piece of clothing to freeze in Salamanca. We spent the afternoon walking around and I can proudly say that I resisted the urge to blow through all my Christmas money at H&M. That place is torture if you don't go with the no touch policy. Which I didn't. My theory is that if you walk through a store, you can look at anything you want, and as long as you don't physically touch it, you won't fall madly in love to the point of not being able to survive, breathe, live without it. Luckily for me, I grabbed the wrong size of everything I wanted. I hate trying things on in stores. Mostly because, due to being closely related to an ice cube, I wear excessive amounts of clothing everywhere I go. So in H&M I spent more time taking off my scarf, jacket, Lululemon jacket, hoodie, long sleeve and tank top than I did trying on the wrong size of the two sweaters I wanted. And after putting my tank top, long sleeve, hoodie, Lululemon jacket, normal jacket and scarf back on, there was no way in hell I was going to try to find the right size.

We decided that instead of freezing to a slow and icy death walking around to find dinner, we would go on a grocery adventure and have a picnic. Which meant that I bought a package of chedder cheese after having a nervous breakdown from excitement that they have cheedar cheese here, and a bottle of wine. Halfway through dinner and a sip into the wine, playing country music seemed like a fabulous idea. Which immediately lead to homesickness, depression over the lack of country boys avaliable in the world, and a sever increase in the rate of wine consumption.

Saturday morning we went on a walking tour of Salamanca. We saw a wall with a tiny frog carved into the head of a skull (I would tell you why, but I think that all the shivering hindered my ability to understand Spanish because it sounded like she was saying something about it being a sexual symbol and frankly, there's nothing sexy about a frog unless it turns into Prince Charming, Johnny Depp as a pirate, or Easton Corbin.) I'd go into extensive detail about the churches but I really can't describe them in a way to do them justice so I'll put some pictures up. Along our first walking tour Friday, Gloria had pointed out the top places to eat in Salamanca. So of course, throughout the entire Saturday tour I was salivating and fanatsizing about everything I was going to eat as soon as the tour was over. I am slightly ashamed to announce that I had McDonalds for lunch that day, because I am certain it was not on the list of the best places to eat. However, we went to the top bakery and I had "Natta con fremguesas" or however you spell it, which was basically like a block of cream with raspberry on top. I was pretty sure that I had been given an early birthday present by God when I ate it. I then began scheming how to seduce the man working there so that he would marry me and we could have kids to run the store and feed me natta con frembuesa every day of my life. But between the fact that he lives in the coldest place ever and the possible child slavery suit that would ensue, I decided against seducing him.

One thing that I have never been able to accept or appreciate is porcelain dolls. Whoever thought those things were a cute replication is incorrect. I am certain that there is nothing creepier than the pale little faces that have huge staring eyes. Lucky for me, the art museum was stocked full of tiny fake humans that would form a very effectively terrifying army if they came alive. The art museum is definitely worth skipping if you end up in Salamanca, unless you have a passion for dolls, in which case please keep that to yourself so I don't think about them every time I see you.

Stop two of the food excursion was the legendary Spanish hot chocolate and churros. I would happily clog every artery and every part of my body if it meant that I could eat churros continuously for days on end. The chocolate is not not not for drinking though, let me warn you. If you want hot chocolate like the milky goodness do not order chocolate con churros. Because I am fairly positive that they melt lots of chocolate bars and think it is hot coco. However, it is better than coco, so just be prepared that if you drink it, your going to feel like you are drinking a yogurt only warm.

America is a little behind on their drinking styles. Here, when you buy a drink, you get a free "pincho" or baby appetizer. The chorrizo in Spain is probably my favorite thing ever. People keep asking me what I like the most and what I have been doing here; I eat, and eat, and sit and wait to eat, and then eat more. That is honestly all I do. I will go to school and sit and think about what I will eat when class is over. I come home and eat and then sit and think about what we will have for dinner. In between, I go on runs or walks or do homework, but am planning what I will eat as a reward for being so motivated and doing work. That's my other problem: when I work out or run, I immeditely feel like I deserve a prize, like a Regma ice cream or three donuts.

This weekend I was exposed as the number one person most likely to "snatch" a baby. Erin found me the perfect basket for snatching one in. I would be all down for snatching them and keeping them to cuddle with whenever I wanted, except that then they cry and need food and are irritating after about an hour, so as my Aunt Jeni said, babysitting works as great birth control. I'll keep it for an hour and that's it, thanks.

After our pinchos and drinks we went back and motivated and went out to meet Kim's friend named Brad, who introduced us to his friend Emily who it turns out lived with my host mom in August. So we of course swapped food opinions and discussed the fact that our feet hang over the end of the beds. Then we began a trek around Salamanca to have the traditional drinks. I decided that the possibility of freezing to death was too great to be too crazy, so we skipped the Green Devil shot of Absenth and cannibus, and instead had BJs and then moved on to a bar that serves "agua de Valencia." If vodka, champagne and fanta are water to those people, then I am sure that they are on the same level as Ke$ha brushing her teeth with Jack. (If you are bored or want to watch a very hilarious video about Ke$ha, here you go: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOYMU15bjlA)

Sunday morning I somehow managed to get to the market with Erin and Tess, and discovered that regardless of the nation you are in, you will find some old man waving a bible and yelling at you to get saved. All I had to tell him was I was proud of myself for saving my money and resisting from buying a cow print suit case and that maybe Jesus will give me one for Christmas, but I didn't know how to say that in Spanish unfortunately. I know God loved me when Erin and I went to get a quick lunch at the bar next to our hotel following our market exploration, because when we walked in, Harry Potter 6 was on TV. I took it as a temporary high five from God about resisting the cow bag, and as another early birthday present.

Now I have to do a quick update about the Thanksgiving in Spain. I was the only person in Spain who managed to get past their mother and out of the house without tights on. Not completely volunteerily since my tights were in the wash, but I now know why Spanish mothers yell at you to put on more clothes: you never know how you will get home, and if you end up walking, you will freeze your behind off. Which is just what I did. That is also why anyone who knows me or anyone from Colorado knows not to wear heels. But again, that is what I did. The dinner was fabulous, they had warm yummy soft bread and potatoes that were a little past the mashed and closer to the mush stage, and a little precious turkey we named Henry. The pumpkin pie was an adventure... it was covered in chocolate and was more similar to the inside of a pumpkin you take out before carving it. But I was a happy camper because despite the slight sketchyness, I escaped Thanksgiving without crying or being homesick. Other than on the walk home at midnight in a cocktail dress and heels, when I was really wishing I could call my daddy and make him come get me. Not that he'd have ever been pleased if I needed a ride due to a fashion desire to wear a dress in the middle of winter, but still. (Side note: just read that Steamboat has a foot of snow. If I tried walking home in a foot of snow in a dress, I am fairly sure my dad would laugh and then hopefully have pity on me and come get me.)

I can proudly look back at the last five days and say that I ate just about everything possible and successfully made it to all the famous places to eat, as well as the famous churches, museums, schools and buildings in Salamanca and now just have to find the same level of motivation I have for eating in order to finish the last three weeks of school before I go to Sweden. Time to get busy :) but also, time to start the excessive listening to of Christmas music, so let's be real here and just admit that I won't be doing much homework.