Six months of Spain, Sangria, Tapas and Patas: Life is rough when it's Lent

Okay here's the problem:

I have nothing to give up for Lent. Well, I do. I have a lot of things to give up. Like:

judging, chocolate, cussing, slacking at school, coffee, Coke, Facebook stalking, holding grudges, not going to Mass enough, spending excessive amounts of money on dresses I'll never wear, not giving money to poor people or African kids, taking too long of showers and taking the bus to school so thus contributing to global warming even if I think it is fake, obsessing about flan going straight to my thighs instead of where I'd like it to go... on my ass, drinking lots of red wine, and probably I should stop being so superficial, materialistic, rude and harsh. The only problem is that those things could also go on my list of New Years Resolutions, which I'd have already forgotten about except I wrote them down so I could go check.

My problem with giving things up or working on things is that then I spend lots of energy feeling like I need to fix myself. Maybe I have been approaching Lent incorrectly for the past 10 years (since I really doubt I gave anything up before the age of 9) since I am thinking maybe it should be about suffering so we can appreciate Jesus dying for us. As a Catholic, I should probably know the answer to that and have some Bible verse to throw at you in a super know it all way. However, I don't. I know the principle is to give something up, but I think this year I want to do something that makes me feel like I am improving myself, not causing an abundance of stress and punishment which always results in more chocolate eating, canceling out any good that was being done.

I considered giving up chocolate, except chocolate con churros is not avaliable in the US, and seeing as I only have 24 days left here, that would culturally be a poor decision. I don't think the same goes for coffee, however when I get back I will immediately purchase a Starbucks, so why doom myself to failure from the start. So basically cross any food off the list of things I can give up. Then I thought about giving up Facebook: my one life line to the States and the madness I like to call my mother. If I was to give up Facebook even for three days I would receive lots of emails with links about recipes, with advice about how to obtain those recipes, with advice on fifteen hostels to stay at, with advice on what TV shows to watch, etc. etc. Take Facebook off the list of possibilities. Then I contemplated removing Grey's Anatomy from my life, but it isn't doing any harm so that won't positively effect my life.

Thus, I am at a loss. I fixed this so that now you can leave comments (maybe?) so if you have a spare minute and can think of something I could give up or do for Lent, I'd really appreciate it. If not, then I shall get creative and maybe I'll give up oogling Spanish men at the beach. But I'd rather not give that up either.

Today it was 67 degrees and sunny out. WHAT. WHAT. Is this real life? 67. Degrees. In. March. Also, how is it already March? Who let that happen? Rude, March, rude. Not for being 67, cause that's fantastic, but for being March. Was September and my frantic packing for three weeks not just last month? And did Sweden for Christmas really happen? Where, I would like to know, has all my time gone.

So due to the 67 degrees, I spent this entire afternoon napping and reading on the beach. I figured out, with my highly advanced math skills that will surly get me through a May semester of calc (right?), that I need to read 30 pages of Harry Potter a day in order to finish before I go home. Too bad I can't use that for "Lenten life improvement" which I shall now be calling it. Tomorrow I am going to babysit Maria from 10-1:30, and prayers would be greatly appreciated since this morning, we spent two hours changing the diaper on her Tickle Me Elmo and cutting up pieces of paper.

While I realize that the two presentations I have due this week and the two finals that are on Monday might be important to start preparing for, the beach is just much more enticing than any of those. There are about six beaches within ten minutes of my house, but normally I go to Sardinero 1 or 2, or Bikini Beach. I'm not sure if I told you about Bikini Beach yet? If I did skip this part. But if not: it was named Bikini Beach because during Franco's dictatorship bikinis were banned, but all the Americans would go to the small hidden beach to wear theirs. And supposedly, that is what made Santander a popular Spanish tourism location: all the Spanish men came to see the illegal bikini wearing American girls. Now though they opt for topless beach going, which Gloria has said is a necessary thing to participate in at least once. So when Theresa Cutter visits me on Friday, we might have a terrifying topless experience at Bikini Beach.

I was talking to Gloria about the whole "don't guys just about have massive heart faliure with all the girls topless" issue, but she said that at the beach, you can tell the tourists because they are the only ones phased by boobs. Nobody else cares. Last summer, she went to the beach topless with lots of her friends, half of whom were boys. Then later, she was changing and one of the guys accidentally walked in on her in her bra and immediately started apologizing like he had accidentally dropped an atomic bomb on her family. It's just different, I suppose, being topless for the sake of making sure you don't have a ridiculous tan line, and being in your bra.

Yesterday I was going to try to be really productive but instead spent an hour watching the seals at Magdelena Park. They are not as cute as cows, but they are fat and snuggly looking so I really love them too. One of the seas was hanging out by the drain getting a nice sucky scratchy belly rub from the pipes and water. Or trying to escape out the tiny hole into the ocean. Either one. Here are a few pictures of them :)