My Mente, I am Perdiéndola

It´s been exactly two weeks since my last blog post, and I haven´t really missed it that much. As I said in my first post, I knew that I´d get to a point where I just wouldn't want to summarize my life here, even if it has been, exciting , thought provoking, and eye-opening.

My eye-opening thoughts exactly, philosoraptor (obligatory LOTR reference)

Thus, my "narrative period" will withdraw from the octagon for the time being, and in its place I will have themed posts that will hopefully be a little shorter. And maybe I'll throw in some more pics, both real and internet-related. I dunno, sounds like a plan right? Vale, seguimos. 

As the title suggests,  my mind has hit a crossroads. One which not even Britney Spears nor Ralph Macchio can relate to.

I actually own this movie, too.

Lo siento, puta

Since my seminar class started, I've taken speaking Spanish incredibly seriously. We signed a written contract promising that we wouldn't speak English at our center, and so far I've adhered to that rule. And during the week, I'm pretty damn good at sticking to dat español. Weekends, I'm a little more lax, particularly at nights. I mean, hey, speaking Spanish all the time is legitimately taxing. Nobody realizes it (I'll be the first to admit it) when you're sitting in a classroom in Ann Arbor only speaking the language for only 3 hours a week. Now, the first bit of English I read/hear/type/say on a weekday is around 7:30pm when I come home and check my e-mail. 

Por eso, I now suck at both languages. My English is actually getting worse, as I find myself having to edit what I type all the time because it literally makes zero sense. And then my Spanish, while it is legitimately improving at a crazy rate, is still not lo mejor. It's even more discouraging when some Sevillanos who I do end up meeting and having enjoyable conversations with always say "noo, tu español es muy bueno!" But how can I believe that? I'm just not good enough.

Take dinner for instance. JODER, as I'm writing this I just realized I didn't take a picture of my meal, something that I vowed I would start doing. ANYWAYS, On the news there was a brief story on Zapatero (the current Prime Minister of Spain), and I decided to prompt a discussion with my host mom, Margarita, regarding her thoughts on Spanish politics and Zapatero in general. As an aside, the good ol' USA would shit itself if somebody like Zapatero were President. He's a goddamn SOCIALIST. Errr (reads ideology), wait a second....

This man wants to take your money. And your children. And everything you've worked hard to attain in your capitalist nation. Obama's got nothing on him.

Upon asking, "Margarita, le gusta las políticas de Zapatero?" She within a second responds with a vigorous head-shaking, "No. Zapatero no está llevando el país muy bien." I inquired further, because I'm legitimately interested in international politics, and Margarita clearly had some strong opinions about this man. However, my lack of political vocabulary and ability to quickly and seamlessly formulate complex sentence structures prevented me from having the super in-depth conversation that I truly wanted. I occasionally got a few good points in, but for the most part I was like Colin Firth before Geoffrey Rush saved the day.

obligatory oscar film reference

While talking about politics was rad, it could've been exponentially more rad. A couple times a week Margarita tells me, "No te preocupes, Griffin. En unos meses hablarás como si fueras un Sevillano!"

I really hope tiene razón. In the meantime, please check out this new photo album from my various excursions around Sevilla and a day trip to Cádiz, a most beautiful coastal city!

Next Episode, I'll chronicle just how goddamn hard it has been (and still is) to find a pair of shoes in my size. Spaniards and their tiny feet.

Song of the day: Nunca volverá - El Sueño de Morfeo. Lead singer's a hottie.