Adios, Sevilla. HOLA, MADRID!!!

And so with tears in my eyes, I bid dearest Sevilla adieu.

-the cane-wielding citizens who preferred to station themselves in the center of the narrow walkways

- the youth who preferred to get it on in those same streets (but by night)

-all the drunken foreigners on calle Betis each night of the week

-the EPIC CATEDRAL

-none of the monuments because I didn’t visit a single one

- the helado stands every 5 ft – faaaabulous dinner option btw

-caracoles (SNAILS THAT I ATE even though nobody at my table would?)

- shrimps in their shells (WTFFFFFFF shrimps are crazy looking in their natural form)

-the good friends I made from China, Germany, Sweden, America blahblahblah

-Ana the best host mom ever who told me that I was disordenada, needed to be ordenada to be an au pair and told me that she would teach me how to be ordenada, took me out to eat snails and other important sevillan things, pretty much taught me more Spanish than anybody else including the all important “fresqita” – cold (apparently nobody actually says frio, but quite ironic seeing as how it is pretty much NEVER EVER fresqita in fucking Sevilla) and pipis (they don’t go to the bathroom – they do PEEPEES!)

- NOT the temperatures that reached 104 every single day or the sun that ate my soul

-the lack of dog laws leading to leashless poop-happy (everywhere) but somehow fairly well behaved puppies

-all of the people that I recognized from seeing on the street every single day including the men who sold tissues on the corners

- the 4 crucial Joses ,

- that one boy who I made do a cartwheel in a bar. He voted for John Mccain and believed in Jesus, but bought me a shot and told me I had a smoking hot body before trying to chew my face. I sent him a facebook message the next day. It said “Hey remember that time I made you do a cartwheel? In a bar? In Spain?” For some reason he still hasn’t replied…..

-NOT tostadas

-those random irish guys….. I really wanted to be friends with them!

-the fact that these people have so much spirit that I walked into 4 random parades before the end, including a protest of some soccer president for something about the world cup – I have pictures of this one, and luckily, I was wearing green like everybody else (I must say that my primary reaction was panic as I thought I was in fact aligning myself with some unknown political party)

-being called beautiful because somebody wants me to buy something from them

-the random “hah low” s – like hello.(Spanish boys are very silly and try to speak English sometimes. Always =FAIL)

-that “nice guy” (hahahaha VIVI)

-that adolescent book I read in Spanish called “The Prince of Fog”

-adventures, tapas, the most beautiful little streets i’ve ever seen, omnipresent happiness

So I made my way to the train station, packed bocadillo in hand (by Ana obvi) mildly sick because I RETARDEDLY stopped taking my antibiotics (for the love of god, never do this ever). I was terrified as I could not understand Olga on the phone that one time she called me. Had I ever seen a picture? No. Did I know anybody who knew them? No. What were the kids names? Dunnnnno. So with all this in mind, I showed off my utter brilliance once more by missing my train. Why? Because the ticket was written in 24 hour time (didn’t matter that I TEXTED Olga the right time before, nope). Panic. Fiasco. So much Spanish with different people. The good news is I survived, made it to Madrid, found Oscar by speaking Spanish over the phone (can I get a what whattttt? There were like 800 exits from this place LEGIT).

Annnnnnd then I showed up at this house. And there were these children and these parents. And I was like whoa, last night I was trying to accidently run into Jose #2 and now I am taking care of these children who I cannot understand. Well that was only 3 days ago and since then I have fallen in love with this family and these children. I can understand what the hell is going on. I may live in the attic without air conditioning, but I have figured out these windows (they have like 10 pieces and you’re supposed to do different things with them at different parts of the day to keep the house cool).

Also FUNNY STORY. So I may have accidently told the family that I take tostadas for breakfast each day. (Who isn’t wildly jealous of my wit by this stage?) Good news is that tostadas are actually just toast, and that his family gives me REAL toast (helllllz yess. although they still eat margarine instead of butter. F.). My first few days were a bit rough. Besides just having to adjust to the whole being able to do my laundry whenever I feel like and cold water that spouts from the refrigerator, I am LIVING with a family of four… and they don’t really speak any English! My Spanish is definitely improving and the majority of my responsibilities consist of watching Spanish cartoons, drawing and eating yogOOrt. Unfortunately they also consist of going to the pool about 15 ft away. They may seem to the majority as a slice of awesome, but to the girl who has avoided swimming in public since the EIGHT GRADE (have not done it), it was just one more situation in which to panic. Olga had to bring me to like three markets to get a bathingsuit (because I refused to wear a bikini) and nobody except the super-obese in spain where banadores (most don’t start until like size 14!) The lifeguards are HOT and the other girls my age here are flawwwwwwless. F.M.L. Today I got over myself. And got a wicked sunburn. In the most awkward shape. I was too busy trying to position myself certain ways so that I didn’t fall out of my suit that I didn’t apply the crema correctly. I mean even IIIII am envious of my sheer intellect. Go self.

Today is the first day that I was well enough to not have to take 2 advil ever 3 hours to quell my out of control fiebre. ALWAYS FINISH YOUR ANTIBIOTICOS.

Oh and I googled Jose #1 from his business card. He is OOOOOLD holy shit. But if you look him up, you can see his picture!

I probably forgot things. Maybe I’ll just add some more details later? Maybe I’ll just have a detail post.