similies.

I decided to be brave today and run in the Retiro (the huge park). The weather has been incredible today; just sunny enough to be beautiful, just windy enough to need a cardigan, and just cloudy enough to look like it might rain soon. Spain needs rain. It's flowers are looking drab.

Anyway, running in the Retiro was refreshing. For five minutes. Then my body started to complain. It started slow, from my gut. Then my knees caught on, then my lungs. How in earth did I ever run three half marathons in four months? How did I let my favorite thing become a roadblock? I'm glad I ran today and I'm falling even more in love with the Retiro. But by the time I made it back to Paloma's, my face was glistening like a nose hair after a sneeze. That's about what I felt like too.

Today is Monday, which means we started a new class today! I'm taking history, which covers from literally the beginning of people in Spain to the present day. My professor is a male, which is kind of unusual in our school. There's only like three and all the rest are females. The class is mainly lecture, but he takes small breaks to ask us what we've been doing in Spain and where we're going this weekend, giving us suggestions on things to visit. He lived in Ireland for five years and has visited most of Europe, and he's just really intelligent. He lectures like he's having a conversation with you, like there's nothing more important to him than giving us the information he's processing. I already have a lot of respect for him and I don't even know what his name is!

He's kind of paranoid, I think. He made two comments about avoiding cancer today: one in reference to how sunburned we all are after Alicante, and the other in reference to the glass bottle he uses for water just in case plastic ends up killing us all. He also has this deep, throaty genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up. You know?

I'm finding it harder and harder to deal with the New Yorkers. One: they use our shampoo and soap in the shower. Have they ever asked? No. Does it really matter? No. But it's rude. How are you going to use something that's not yours without even asking? Two: they use Sara's soy milk... That she pays for. One of them tried to use it in front of me and I asked her to put it back. She said she was only going to use a little bit, but Sara bought that for herself! If they want soy milk, they buy it just like Sara did. Three: they was their faces but don't rinse all the soap off. How do we know? The soap bleached one of Paloma's hand towels. She was all over them like a colony of E. coli on room temperature Canadian beef. It's one thing to use mine and Sara's things, but how dare they be so inconsiderate about something that belongs to the lady who opened her house to us like family? I don't appreciate it one bit. Plus they take too long in the bathroom. Paloma comes in our room almost everyday to tell us how she feels about them. She's not a fan because she thinks they aren't nice. Hm.

Paloma is on the phone a few rooms away and I can hear every word she is saying. What a fireball, that Paloma. I wish I could bring her back to Auburn with me. She would be such a fun roommate.