Ohh you mooove my soul

Things to never travel without:

A nail clipper

Ferbreeze (you never know when you'll have a homeless man living in your hostel, or when you non-smoking room is a previously smoking room)

Ear plugs (you never know when the homeless man will want to dig through his bags at four am for a snack)

A pocket-knife

A pen and paper

A good book

An apple

Okay that's just the list I wanted to make speedy quick so that I don't forget to write it down for the future.

Yesterday I went to Burgos, which is in Old Catille and Leon (a region to the south of Cantabria.) When I woke up, I went on a mad search for my passport, since I was not quite as prepared as I thought and didn't pack it Thursday night. Normally, my passport stays in its grey zipper pouch right on the bottom shelf of my night stand. When I say normally I actually mean ALL THE TIME. Which for me is a huge accomplishment because organization is not my strong point in life. Thus, when it wasn't there, I immediately went into a state of total panic. After searching my undies, my jeans, the boxes of the boots I just got, the trash, my six drawers, under my bed and in my bathroom bag, I gave up. I really don't have very many places to lose things here. It isn't like at home when it could be: at work, in my car, at home, at school, let alone all the places at home it could be, like my room, bathroom, living room, kitchen, etc. Tete came in at 9:30 to tell me I was going to be late for the bus, at which point she asked why I was laying on the floor with my arm under my bed. It is fairly embarrassing to have to admit that you might have lost the one document that is vital to your status as a resident of a nation. She progressed to get a long broom and sweep under the other bed in my room, producing none other than my passport in its little pouch. At which point I got my first Spanish mother spanking.

I did manage to make the bus, and 11,45 euro later I was headed to Burgos. Returning to somewhere cold, with sleet snow reminded me that I am going to probably have hypothermia constantly when I go home. Burgos has a legendarily horrible afternoon wind, and mixed with the snow it was a fairly miserable afternoon. But I managed to find the hostel on my own, which really just involved wandering around for a bit and then climbing the stairs in a place I'd have picked to use for the orphanage in Annie. It was about as nice as that... I'd have given quite a lot of bravas for a Daddy Warbucks to save me last night as I listened to an army of pigeons have a yelling match over which ledge to sleep on, which nearly suffocating in a non-smoking room that should have been labeled "non-smoking for you because you are a non-smoker." However, there was no homeless man in my room, so life is improving on the hostel front.

After dropping my things off at the hostel I went to the Cathedral, which is spectacular. In a typically bright move, I forgot my camera in my backpack at the front locker, so I won't be able to show you want it looks like. But there are lots of important tombs of kings and queens and bishops. Behind it, the old castle is up on a hill in the park. The only issue with that is it got the life bombed out of it during the Civil War, so now it is mostly just a pretty park with the walls of an old castle.

My guide book was selected due to its reference to the most famous patatas bravas in town, which I tried to have at around four but the kitchen was closed, so I waited till seven and returned and it was absolutely worth it. Other than that I survived most the day on coffee and pastries and chocolate.

This weekend is Carnaval, which I have deduced to be about equivalent to Halloween, with all the kids dressed as dogs or Belle or firemen, and all the girls dressed as French Maids, home wreckers, or Britney Spears. There was a band of bees on stilts playing, and some huge floating head balloons; other than that I'm not entirely sure what was going on. Lots of drums and loud music and things like that.

This morning I got churros and chocolate for breakfast, continuing on my health streak for the weekend. Then I walked around the plaza for a bit before heading back to the station for my bus back to Santander. On the bus ride back we were going through eastern Cantabria, which is virtually nothing aside from countless small houses with their green fields full of... cows! So of course I spent the whole ride leaning over the kid who got the window seat trying to see the Spanish baby cows. They are the really furry caramel brown colored ones. And the dairy baby cows are so precious. All around, I was thrilled. Some people get really happy about certain things, like my dad about skiing or fish. That thing for me is baby cows and ducks. I literally feel immense joy like my heart is going to pop and I have to squeeze them and love them in my mind because they are so cute. Which makes me possibly certifiably weird, but it's just the truth. What is cuter than a baby cow, plus, it will grow up to taste so good. What could be more perfect? So the overall highlight of my entire weekend was the soul touching baby cows walking along the side of the road with their farmer smacking them with a stick so they didn't turn into a baby cow pancake under the bus. There's nothing cuter than that. (Except my future kids.)

Arco Santa Maria en Burgos

My afternoon companions :)

Chinese dragon at the Carnaval fiesta

Legendary patatas bravas y cana!

The Cathedral when it was sunny!

The weird bee band.

View from Castillo Park

The Book Irish Bar... such a great combination

One of that statues in Burgos

Walkway along the river; in the summer these trees are full of purple flowers so it's like a purple tunnel.

For the love of food.

I am on page 100 of Harry Potter in Spanish. I also managed to make a hostel reservation for tomorrow night in Burgos, in Spanish. Then I ordered the most delicious thing on the planet, although I did order in Spanish it was a "see that one on the bottom in the front? That one." kind of deal. So now I can't tell you the name. Instead, I am going to give you one of my "Michelle fails at explaining things without adding -y, -ish, or -type thing to the end of her words" explainations.

Okay here we go:

Have you ever had that type of bread they bake and it dries in layers and gets hard and kind of flakey like a crissount? It was two layers of that, and in the middle was cream. But the cream here isn't like the fake cream filling in the States. It is a yellow color, but not because it tastes like vanilla or because they add coloring. It tastes like chilly sweet cream, and is a consistancy between mousse and pudding. And then on top, you know the frosting they use on those Christmas cookies that is usually a horrible dyed color like pink, actually Easter cookies might be a better season to associate them with. But anyway, that frosting turns into one hard and shiny layer when it dries. Well that was on top, only it was just white and natural, so you don't feel like you are eating the Easter Bunny's entire year's supply of egg dye when you eat it.

My original plan for the day went something like this: wake up at 8:30, breakfast, work out, shower, go to school and work on my project, lunch, babysit Maria, go do my language exchange and then meet with Gloria to talk about my trip to Burgos tomorrow.

This is how it really went: woke up at 9:15 (an improvement from the past 10:15 wake ups this week), checked Facebook, ate a banana (two points for waking up and being healthy), had two cups of hot chocolate, read HP7, ate Milka chocolate instead of working out, watched three episodes of Grey's Anatomy instead of doing homework, found out Maria was with her grandparents and my intercambio had a meeting with his professor, so spent the afternoon eating things and watching tv and googling things to do in Burgos. Then went to see Gloria, talked about boys who care too much about their hair and boys with too much hair, and then went and spent 3,10 e on three sobao (pound cake with the air sucked out of it type thing) and the delicious creamy thing.

I just got on Facebook and saw the dreaded daily special of Backcountry Provisions. Now, prior to this summer I wasn't a fan. The whole obsession with BCP was kind of foreign to me. But then I discovered the following sandwich: 1/2 a french baguette, roasted turkey, munster cheese, pesto, avacado, lettuce and tomato. My life will never be the same. And so now I am fantasizing about that sandwich while eating too much sobao before dinner.

Yes, I miss my family and my friends and Roo and his stinky farts. That's just a given. But deep down in my heart, the one thing I ache for is food. While I realize life is short and we have to love the people in our lives, I know they will always be there for me. Even if they died, they will always be there loving me. So honestly, what I miss the most is food. Because that won't always be there because right now, someone is eating my perfect sandwich and that munster cheese will never be mine. Ever. But when I leave, someone will be eating the patatas bravas and the churros con chocolate that I should be eating. So many poor pieces of food will never know how much I truly adore them.

In the movie "A Horse With A Grey Flannel Suit" which you probably haven't seen because it might have been one of those movies only my family was in love with, but anyway, he falls in love with her when he is watching her eat a hot dog. I think if a guy ever told me he loved how I ate and loved watching me eat, I would cry from joy. And if I met a guy who truly adored food like I do, AND loved watching me eat AND understood that his food is my food but my food is mine, I would just have to marry him on the spot. The post I put up about dating a girl who reads, well it should be "Date a girl who reads and eats." Because food is the next best thing to falling in love. And unlike falling in love, which can sometimes go south and leave you, food will be the one that is in bed with you (although hopefully in a container or your mouth and not in the sheets) making you feel so much better.

Everyone's famous in a small town

http://www.realracingclub.es/comunicacion/actualidad/ampliar.php?Id_contenido=6848

We're kind of a big deal!

Want some honey, honey?

There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a nice cup of tea. ~Bernard-Paul Heroux

I asked Tete if I could use some honey for my tea. I turned around to get the second cup of boiling water out of the microwave. Upon turning around, I saw Tete using a cooking spoon to pour honey into my Seville travel mug. A cooking spoon. Now, I am all for honey. I love honey sticks and honey before ski races and generally I'd eat a spoonful just for fun. But as she dipped that three tablespoon sized shovel back into the honey, I froze. Normally, when someone is serving you, they say " Tell me when!" and then you awkwardly respond "When?........" and hope they stop. I haven't figured out the Spanish version of this, which results in massive amounts of honey, soup, salad, chocolate, blood sausage, microwave potatoes, and squid out of a can with ink.

I will have no lack of energy today, when we go to see the Magdelena Palace for class, that's for sure. And the next thing on my to-do list is figure out how to say "When!" in Spanish.

I'd love to take credit but I can't

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

—

Rosemarie Urquico (via kblitz)

(via conversationslips)

Rosemarie no longer has an active blog, but she can be found on Facebook here:http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/profile.php?id=585211028

To see the post about how she was found, please go here. Thanks, Jonathan (who should eventually get a website that I can link to, yes) for searching!

This is just kind of one of the best things I have read. Someday, I want to write something this great. New goal.

Fish and Futbol

Just a few pictures from my day today :)

Which included: ab ripper, Harry Potter 7 in Spanish while eating a chocolate crepe and having mango tea, buying two new pairs of boots, the Bachelor, two and a half hours of playing Rummi with my host mom, and a tour of the Racing Santander futbol stadium.

Fish Market

Hopefully he didn't find Nemo.

Racing Santander

Just a few fun facts about Racing:

They were the first team with 25 paid players.

They were also the first team to have foreigners on their team.

Some guy just bought the club and gave them like 30 million euro to stop sucking. Hopefully it works.

Before games, players have to arrive at ten in the morning. Every minute they are late they have to pay their coach 40 euro.

They have a player from Sweden on their team. Fantastic.

Before they play, they take speedy leg baths between hundred degree water and 33 degree water to get their muscles all freaking out and working.

Their weight room is less impressive than our high school one.

When they first started the club, it was people who were working and studying and also played soccer on the side. Now it is real, so all they do is play soccer. And take ice baths.

One of their players is a model. He is very attractive.

They were the first team to use advertisement on their jerseys.

At one point they were the team with the most consecutive years in the top division. Not anymore, but you've gotta remember the good ol' days.

Once, they beat Real Madrid. And everyone still talks about it. Whenever you say "Racing sucks" they say "OH WELL WE BEAT MADRID BY FIVE POINTS" and they have shirts with the date and a hand on it, one finger per goal they won by. It's a big deal. You don't mess with Racing when you are in Santander.

recipe for gezpacho

Una Receta Para Gazpacho de www.cocinayrecetas.net (Recipe based off of this website)

Ingredientes y que necesitas: (Ingredients and what you will need)

Una batidora (A blender)

Una jarra (A pitcher)

Un colador (A strainer)

Un pepino (A bell pepper, red or green is fine)

Cinco tomates, mediano (Five medium tomatoes)

Un pimiento (A cucumber)

Un ajo (A few cloves of garlic)

Un poquito de sal (A bit of salt)

Una rebanada de pan (A slice of bread without the crust)

Medio vasito de vinagre (blanco y blando) (white, bland vinegar, about half a cup)

Medio vasito de aceite (oliva) (about half a cup of olive oil)

Y agua fresca (cold water, as much as you want depending on you soupy you want it)

Primero, quítale la cortecita de la rebanada de pan. (First, make sure the crust is of the bread)

Pon en remojo. (Put it in water, it should be nice and soggy)

Quita las impurezas del ajo. (Peel the garlic cloves.)

Corta el ajo en trocitos. (Cut into small pieces)

Parte los tomates. Elimina las impurezas. (Cut up tomatoes but don't use the bad parts like the top)

Córtalos en trocitos pequeñitos. Estos son mejor. (Cut into small pieces)

Eche a la batidora. (Add all of that to the blender)

Corta un trocito de pimiento. Abre en la mitad y corta en trocitos pequeños. (Cut up the pepper and don't use the inside of it. Cut it into small pieces)

Eche al batidora (Add that to the blender too.)

Se corta un torsito del pepino y quita la peladura. (Peel the cucumber and cut it into tiny pieces. I wouldn't add it to the blender cause I like having the chunks in there when I eat the soup, so leave it out even though she says to add it.)

Corta también en trocitos pequeñitos. (Again with the cutting it up.)

Ahora, tienes los tomates, el pepino y el pimiento en el batidor. (Now you have everything in the blender but NOT the cucumber cause I said so!)

Ahora continuación, corta el pan y ensena. (Okay so now you are supposed to add the bread but I already told you to so whatever.)

Pon la sal, como quieres. Si te gusta más, use más. (Add the salt, however much you want. Aka use lots! Yum!)

Eche el vinagre y aceite. (Add the oil and vinegar.)

Y eche el agua fresco. (Now add the cold water.)

Si quieres más espeso o más caldoso, use más o menos agua. (Again, how soupy do you want it? Add that amount of water.)

Pasa a triturarlo. (Blend blend blend!)

Pon en una jarra y use un calador. (Strain it if you want, and put it in the pitcher. Now stick it in the fridge, after you add the cucumber.)

Sirve fresquito. (Serve it cold.)

Pon en la nevera. (In other words, keep it in the fridge.)

Okay and my final advice is that you should toast some white bread, but good white bread not the cheap Wonderbread stuff. But toast if after you cut it up into pieces, about one square inch pieces. Then you eat that in it and it is super delicious! The picture up top is the gezpacho I had in Barcelona. Que rica!