In the event of shopping, run.

Some people are capable of spending mass amounts of time looking at clothes, shoes, jackets, socks, jewelry, you know, the normal things. Spending an entire day in a mall or walking from store to store sounds like a fabulous way to spend a day. For the most part, I would claim that this is the female population. There is, I will admit, something fabulous about finding a really awesome deal and walking out of a store with a really great new pair of shoes or dress.

My mom asked Dr. Dudley "What do you do with girls?" when she had me. Despite what she likes to portray- the whole, I am woodsy and outdoorsy and hate girl type things- she is a total shopaholic. If there was a store that has: horse riding boots, ceramics, men's clothing, women's clothing, jewelry, antiques, clocks, flamanco dresses, spices, pots and pans, mugs, tea, shoes, leather, horse riding equipment, or any type of rain boot, we went in it. Or stood wistfully staring in the window, cursing siesta. I am a fairly grumpy person in the mornings, and get very impatient with tourists, and my mom has been a real trooper dealing with me. But let me say that as much as I love her and am excited that I got to have her here, her shopping habits are nearly enough for me to begin binge drinking. Part of me wishes that I did love shopping; I can appreciate stores that have things that are not for tourists, not over priced, and are unique. We found some fabulous little stores that had things that were hand made, and food stores are right up my ally. But going into every possible shoe store in her determination to find me rainboots, only to find that every single store is sold out of normal black size 38 rainboots was nearly deadly.

Yesterday we went to the Alcazar, which is the old palace in Seville. While my mom can spend countless hours going into nearly identical tourist shops, I would voluntarily become homeless if they let me live in the gardens of Alcazar. Avatar was enough to send me into a mild hour long depression thinking about how much better life would be living in a jungle with pretty light up plants. The whole jungle feel and that misty, cool air that you can only find in a few places is delicious. Walking through the forests on the coasts of Oregon was the same; there is just something timeless about the plants and the huge trees. If you ever get cocky, take a walk through a huge garden and you'll remember real quick how small your life is compared to the massive connections of life that somehow continue to grow and have existed for longer than anything you have accomplished.

Ideally, seeing the documents from Christopher Columbus in the Archivo de los Indianos should have had a similar "Wow I am kind of puney" effect. However, I am very sad to report that the museum doesn't actually show you any of the letters he wrote to Spain reporting his discoveries. Although I am fairly sure he left out the mass killings of Indians and general douche-baggery that he participated in. Howard Zinn taught me enough to know that Columbus wasn't the pallio that he claimed to be with the Indians. If you are at all interested in history, Zinn has an earful to spout off. And "Lies My Teacher Told Me" is actually pretty awesome. But I am an AP US History lover so if not, then just know that Columbus was a jerk.

In Spain, Santa is just a fat American. Today is the 5th of January, and in Spain that means the Three Kings are coming tonight. If you have been good and polish your best shoes and leave them outside your door, they will leave you presents in your shoes tonight. I would try that, except that my "best shoes" are my four year old Blow Fish boots and if someone took them I'd be shoeless. One step closer to garden homeless living, but not my priority right now. Last night we ended up randomly walking into a parade of the Magi (Three Kings) and all the little kids gave them letters with their Christmas wishes. This evening we watched the parade, which involved these beautiful floats; my favorite was the Narnia float and the Cinderella float. One word of caution: if you end up at this parade, wear a helmet because the little kiddos on the floats throw their candy like they are trying to assassinate the kid that stole their kindergarten boyfriend or cut in line for the finger paints.

What I also have discovered is that in Seville I have a sudden fabulous sense of direction. Usually I am the one wandering around totally clueless about where I am. It could be a combination of my desire to find patatas bravas, or the food I know is waiting in my room. Our hostel is precious, but the shower situation is kind of frigid. Tomorrow is the dreaded shower day; one gets to a point at which freezing water is no longer able to be avoided. It is crazy that it is Wednesday again... I have been 20 for a week and only have one more full day with Ma. Two very depressing thoughts. I am also in the process of attempting to figure out classes for next semester, and in typical Spanish style am totally clueless about what is going on. As is the school.

As sad as I am for Mom to be leaving, I miss looking out my window and seeing the ocean and all the pervy old men in their swim suits (or not......) regardless of the temperature and the green and the waves and my little Spanish mommy feeding me flan. So here's to the last day tomorrow and to a fabulous week :)