One point for getting out of bed.

Here is a brief run down of my weekend:

Christmas music. Sleep. Elf. Sleep. Eat. Sleep. Christmas music. Sleep. Fantasize about Christmas. Sleep. Eat. and repeat.

Throw in forgetting the name of a guy that I met the first weekend who for some reason remembered my name, my entire life story which I apparently felt the need to tell him (not short of the fake boyfriend I made up and my supposed desire to be taught to surf. Always wonder where I find things like this to say, apparently have very vivid imagination after a few drinks...) and obsessing over the dog named Marley in the bar, whose life story involves being one year and four months old. Between the dog in the bar and watching a little boy get his diaper changed in the middle of a pool bar I am becoming less shocked at the things that occur. I am sure that I have done my fair share of contributing to the strangeness (ie: falling out of a bathroom to "Sweet Home Alabama" due to an inability to walk in heels) but some things are just strictly Spanish. If you tried to take your dog to a bar to hang out/help you DJ you'd prolly get fired in America. But here, you are every homesick girl's new best friend and the most popular guy in town. Amerian boys take note.

I am proud to say that I emerged from our cave today and went for a walk. On Sundays and "fiestas" aka work holidays/government holidays everything shuts down. Which means that everyone sleeps all day, watches TV and goes on walks. Two minutes into my walk I realized I had completely forgotten that I was supposed to go babysit the baby doll obsessed and slightly insane three year old at six, and had no idea what time it was. So then bolted back home, realized it was 5:30, called them and was told that I could just come tomorrow. Which is nice but also a bummer because I was lucky enough to remember it today, and banking on remember that two days in a row might be asking too much.

Walk attempt two went much better. I didn't have anything else to have forgetting about (well, I might and just don't remember but that is beside the point.) and was reminded again why I love it here. I could take a hundred pictures of the same beautiful views every day and still not be able to appropriately portray how gorgeous Santander is. From the point of the bay, you can see the sparkely Christmas lights, the water with the light reflections, the tall pretty buildings that look like skinny and disproportional blocks and the snowy frigid mountains behind them. I'm not sure that many things are more beautiful than the ocean with white mountains behind them. Santander might be small and relatively limited in things to do, but I can never get enough of it. I think probably any "city" is an upgrade from the size of Steamboat, but the fact that I have a city on the ocean with mountains just about makes me want to kiss God fifteen times and ask why I am so spoiled.