This week I write in complete comfort, as I moved into an apartment with two American gals around my age. We all have the job, just in different nearby towns. So I can shower when I want, eat when AND what I want, and play my music out loud (like I am doing now). Our little apartment is in the middle of the town, and is really a blessing. Since I moved in Wednesday, several things have made me ecstatically happy.
If you know me, you will find the first rather unsurprising: I went to the grocery store here and bought myself a weeks worth of food. I originally went in planning only to buy a few things, like bedding. I took a little plastic basket with this intention; however, by the time I got through the store, the basket was overflowing and I had goods piled up in my arms. Best deals: tiny fully cooked chickens vaccuum sealed in plastic for 1.50 euro and a big jar of olives for 3.50 euro. Things I avoided: whole baby pigs in vaccuum sealed plastic, fresh giant squid (but only because I don't know how to make it ;). But the best part was trying to check out. I had just thrown my produce into those produce plastic bags and kept shopping. When I got to the register, the woman told me I had forgotten to print out the produce stickers that are in a machine at the produce section. I ran back to the section while she continued to check out my countless items. The tomatoes sticker: easy. BUT I SWEAR: there was no lettuce printout available. I searched, I researched, I asked fellow shoppers, I prayed to God to reveal to me the item code of the Arugula, all to no avail. Because there were angry shoppers waiting and stomping around, I dejectedly threw back the lettuce and ran back to check out. To this day, I open the refrigerator and stare moodily at all the items that would go perfectly with lettuce, then close the door with disgust. Next time the produce will not get the best me!
The second happening was beginning to teach at the other school in Monesterio. Last week I only taught at the school in Zafra, but part of my contract is to go to a school a good 40 minutes away two days a week. So now I am catching rides to the other school with a teacher to teach 5th and 6th grade students there. The rides are awkward, as this particular person has habit of blurting out things that no one but one's confidant should know.The kids didn't have the same reaction to me as did the kids in my Zafra school because I am not their first Auxiliar. However, in all other respects they are on the same level of English as my older Zafra kids, so I will probably be able to use the same types of worksheets and music for both.
Besides that, this weekend both my roomates left town for the holidays so I will basically have the apartment to myself for this huge winter break-- three weeks. It will be the longest I have lived alone, kind of weird and fun. This weekend I hung out with my Spanish friends again, and went out for two chill nights: Friday for a few drinks at a bar very close to my house and same Saturday plus dinner at a gambling joint and after, coming back to my apartment and watching a hilarious cartoon, La niña repelente, and youtube clips. Check out the cartoon if you have time, it's about a little bitch girl in Spain, who f's over everyone, including her pillhead mom (who thinks inanimate things are talking to her) and her sweaty, stressed dad.
We did this till 6:30 in the morning. It was fun, and I felt like a little girl at a sleepover party ha. One thing the Spanish girls l meove to do is to imitate hilarious radio segments/ tv voices / random crazy people. They have me cracking up all the time, especially with the imitation of an announcer who says in a very silly way, "¿O que chulo, no?" y "Soy una puta. ¿Y Que? Me Gusta!"
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