The Typical and Not-So-Typical

It's about that time where everyone in my program is feeling a little bit homesick.  It has been exactly two months since we arrived in Granada, and the honeymoon stage is most definitely over.  Yes, Granada's great, but many of us are craving the comforts of home right now.  With that in mind, these last few days have been unexpectedly stressful for me.  Many of the things that have happened are very typical for me, and the other ones are most certainly not.  Allow me to explain...

First of all, the typical:  1. Picking classes.  My pick time is tomorrow at 4 PM Spain time and, as always, the process is stressful.  Two of the worst times of college per year are housing selection and class selection, since both will affect my life to a great extent.  Housing went fine, and I'm living in an apartment with people I love, surrounded by people I love in apartments nearby, so that's a relief.  Class selection? I guess I'll know tomorrow, but I need to get into a writing class for my history major, or graduating on time is in jeopardy (maybe this blog is not the best way to tell my parents this-oops).  I found out yesterday I have to take a summer or winter class as well, because my politics class here apparently does not count for poli sci credit (figure that one out...).  So, that's stressful, but certainly not unusual.
2. I was late for soccer on Thursday and began to run there because I hate being late for things.  Unfortunately for me, a curb popped out of no where and got in my way.  I tripped over said curb and landed flat on my face/stomach/elbow while all my things went flying.  My elbow is all cut up, and so is the side of my stomach.  This is a typical occurrence for me, though, so no big deal.  People saw it happen, people laughed, and after yelling a few choice curse words that I hope the Spanish people did not understand, I laughed as well.  I am a silly, ditzy, clumsy American.
3. Of course, I am sick. At one point or another, I decided I am one of the most sickly people I know, since I always seem to be sniffling/coughing/headache-y.  Luckily my current sickness is not one that will send me to the hospital (knock on wood), since I think it's just a dumb cold combined with my usual allergies.  Still annoying, but not anything I haven't dealt with before!
4. Finally, on Friday Keri and I walked up to the Albaicin (a hippie area in the hills of the city) to the lookout that overlooks the Alhambra and the rest of the city.  It's really pretty up there and I like sitting and people watching, but apparently the random hippies who sell things like to people watch as well. One of the said hippies saw me looking at his artwork and said (in Spanish), "Oh, where are you from? What is your ethnicity?" I mean I guess it's a weird question, but for some reason I get asked that ALL the time.  First he said, "You must be from the south of Italy!" I get that one a lot. I have zero Italian in me whatsoever, but I wish I did, so that's cool by me.  I didn't answer the man because he only had one tooth, so he continued talking and said, "No? Well, you also look very Turkish." Turkish?! Now there is a new one.  I guess that wasn't so typical, but the questioning of my race/background is.  I don't think I look Turkish, because I think that infers that I am Arab and well...nope.

And for the not so typical:
1. Lauren is stupid, and went to the beach on Saturday and forgot to apply sunscreen. Due to my previously discussed dark skin, I suppose I felt I didn't need to.  I mean, it was chilly, and I was wearing pants (but only my bathing suit on top), so clearly sunscreen wasn't necessary! Right?! Wrong. I returned back to Granada (the beach is only an hour away) with the first major sunburn of my life, which I guess is an accomplishment of some kind because I've lived 21 years without one.  I sent Maggie a picture of my peeling face this morning, and I hope she wasn't horrified.  It's probably not even considered a major sunburn by most people, but when I looked in the mirror I was a bit shocked.
2. Spain in its entirety is going on strike next Thursday. Why? I don't fully understand, but there is a labor law being passed that Friday, so the political parties opposing Mariano Rajoy's policies have called a strike. The Internet says it's an anarchist group, but apparently this is going to affect all of Spain's public transportation.  This includes airplanes.  My father so happens to be arriving in Spain Thursday, so we'll see what happens.  I told him to rent a car, because apparently his flight from Madrid to Granada might be cancelled. Anyways, I don't even really understand the point of a general strike, or why the Spanish feel it's necessary to have a strike for one day and one day only.  Do they really think that will accomplish anything at all? It also makes no sense to stop working (and not get paid) when so many people are complaining about NOT having work and money. I don't get it, Spain.
3.  On Sunday, I traveled to a small region in the Granada province called Alpujarra.  Alpujarra, I think, is a bunch of towns up in the mountains.  The ride was curvy, pretty, and also nauseating, and I envisioned my death multiple times as the bus precariously wound itself up the mountains.  However, the towns were cute and I liked them a lot. In a city, you can't really envision people who live more simple lives, and I don't usually see the results of the economic crisis first hand.  In Alpujarra, though, it was clear that the people there only lived on the necessities.  I can't imagine living in such a small village; I didn't even see a school when I walked around the area! However, the views were breathtaking, yet slightly brown because of the massive drought Granada is going through.  It was a good day, minus my sunburned swollen face and stomach.

One of the many great views! 

My friend Kobe and I pretending to like each other

Today I had a grammar exam, and I either failed or got an A.  I'm not going to say I think I failed (even though I think I did) because my mom and everybody else in the world gets mad at me when I say that, since somehow I always manage to pull out good grades.  But, I am a perfectionist, so anything less than an A is kind of sort of not good...

Afterwards I went to a shwarma place with Ally, Alyssa, Amanda, and Rebecca (although I did not get shwarma-I've discovered that it makes me really sick!).  I haven't hung out with them that much throughout the semester, but I always like spending time with them so it was really fun. I like having lots of friends (who doesn't) and getting to know people better, and I've missed just sitting and talking with people lately.  So, that was a good de-stresser with class selection looming tomorrow!

It is lunch time, so hasta luego!

Lauren

The magical world of London and life in Granada

Two blog entries in one day! It must be a really gross, rainy and cold day outside. Oh wait, nope. It's 73 and sunny. What am I even doing inside? Well, I had a long week with a lot of work and needed to sit down. I'm exhausted! There's plenty of time for outside activities later anyways, and I think I'm going to the beach Saturday.

So, as previously stated, I went to London this past weekend with Jen.  Again, I did not plan on going to London originally, but the plane tickets were cheap and Jen said she could meet me there (She is studying in Scotland), so I decided to go for it.  Thank goodness I did.  I officially want to live in London one day. I loved it that much.  I always thought my cousin Carrie was slightly insane for constantly talking about London, and how she needed to be there, but I get it now. So Carrie, take this as the one time I will tell you this: you were right.

I did so much, and I saw all the typical London sites such as Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park, the London Eye, Big Ben, the Millennium Bridge, the London Bridge, and the Globe Theatre.  While all of those sites were impressive, my favorite place was Abbey Road.  When I was little, I pretended to hate the Beatles because, "eww, that's my parent's music!" but as a grew older, I realized the Beatles are actually great.  I walked across Abbey Road, snapped a few touristy pictures, and read the wall outside the famous Abbey Road Studios.  People from all over the world visit this wall and sign it, so there was a lot to take in.  Jen and I spent a lot of time adding our own favorite Beatles' lyrics to the wall. My favorites have always been from "Blackbird": "Take these broken wings and learn to fly/all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise" and "In My Life": "All these places have their moment...In my life, I've loved them all."  So, I wrote both of those, along with "I get by with a little help from my friends."  The wall made me realize how much of an impact music has on people's lives.  I mean, people's lives have been changed by the Beatles' music, and all of their songs show how there are people in the world who truly believe peace is possible (stated between sexual song lyrics, but hey, the Beatles can do whatever they want).

I got to see my friend Cambria, who is studying in London for the semester and is loving it.  We got pizza and it was actually really good, and I'm saying that after traveling to Italy (So, for the record, British food isn't bad at all-it's the same as the U.S.-they have everything!).  Talking and catching up with her made me wonder if maybe I should have studied in London instead.  I loved the people there, the accents, the huge pretty parks, and honestly, everything (except maybe how expensive it is!).  On the plane on the way there, I lost my paper that said the address of my hostel.  A nice British lady next to me had the kindness to look it up for me on her phone, and then spent a good half an hour telling me what I needed to do in London. She was unbelievably nice and willing to help a stupid little tourist, and I was so grateful.  I guess if I lived there every day I would not notice these kind of qualities about London and British people, but I like to think I would.  I think people give British people a bad reputation sometimes for being rude and pessimistic, but their sense of humor fit perfectly with mine (read: sarcastic).  I know I will return to London one day, and I can't wait for that day.

I also saw my friend Katie from Simsbury, and we ate bad (but so good) Chinese food in Chinatown, went to the M&M store in Piccadilly Circus (which felt exactly like Times Square-if I hadn't heard British accents everywhere, I would have thought I was in New York City!), and reminisced about high school in a pub near her dorm.  It was a fun and relaxing weekend, and despite having to share hostel rooms with strangers, Jen and I had a great time.  When we were saying goodbye to each other, I was so sad to leave both Jen and London.  It was the perfect weekend at the perfect time, since Jen and I had both been feeling a little homesick and needed to get away from the cities we were studying in.

part of the Beatles' wall

Big Ben and a good friend :)

Time is seriously flying by. Keri, a friend from a summer soccer team I played on, is coming to Granada this weekend, next weekend I have a program trip to Madrid, and the Thursday after that my dad will be here!! I've been planning my dad's visit since I got here, and I can't believe it's almost already here.  The weather is beautiful and so is Granada. My classes are frustrating because there are always things lost in translation, and my professors assign a lot of busy work that I absolutely despise, but for the most part, life is good. My daily thirty minute walk to school is an enjoyable one, and every day I notice new things.  For example, there is always a group of five or six elderly women who sit in a park near my apartment at 4:30 every day.  I always wonder who they are, what their life stories are, and if one or two are missing, I think of where they could be instead of at the park.

Last night, I played on a soccer team with a lot of Spanish girls. I wish I could say I understood all of their Spanish, but they talked so quickly and used so much slang that I really don't know what they were saying at all.  They did, however, say I was "muy valiente" or very brave, for coming to play on a team with a bunch of a strangers when I did not even speak the language.  All of the girls were very skilled players, but they don't play with a shape or formation.  Positions don't exist.  It's kind of like how people play street basketball in the U.S., but street basketball is very different from an organized game/team.  They were impressed with my "movement" on the field (errm, court. They play on tile here. Weird!) and invited me to play with them twice a week, including games on the weekends.  I think they were surprised that I was an American who could actually play, and they were shocked to hear that I have played on some kind of organized team since I was six (That exists in America?). If you had told my eight year old Squadron Line field soccer playing self that one day I would play on a team in Spain, I would have burst into tears.  If you had told my high school self that I would one day play in Spain, I would have laughed in your face and walked away. I might have even had the same reaction freshmen and sophomore years of college.

 I have come a long way, even in the last few years.  I grew up quick (sorry, Mom!).  I honestly don't even recognize myself from freshmen year of college, although I know I have kept the same morals and general foundation.  My freshmen year of college self would have never taken half the chances that I have taken in the last two months. I didn't have enough confidence for that back then.  Even being here, really and truly learning Spanish when I don't need to (since I'm not a Spanish major) says a lot.  I also don't care if anyone thinks that last sentence is bratty or self-promoting.  I am unbelievably proud of myself for being able to do this; I literally put myself in a foreign country and told myself to adapt.  Yes, I miss home, my friends both from Simsbury and at UConn, and I miss random things about the United States that I never expected to miss. (For example, today I realized I miss hearing Barack Obama speak on TV.  They show a lot of news about the U.S. here, but the Spanish news reporters always translate what Obama is saying, so I can't hear his voice!)  Even though there are difficult days and sometimes I look at the calender to see how long it is until I can see my friends and family again (two months, for the record), I know I am going to be a better person because of this.

I am going to see a tango performance for class now, and it is Gail's birthday so we are celebrating.  Adios for now!

Lauren :)

Aaand I'm back.

I took a slight blog hiatus, due to midterms, essays upon essays, and my long-lasting illness.  I ended up having to go to the hospital again because my stomach pain was not going away.  I'm lucky I did, because I actually had some kind of infection (don't worry-it was easily treated with antibiodics!).  I was super nervous about not being able to make it to London last Friday, but magically I woke up Friday morning with minimal stomach pain and no headache! ¡Que suerte!

A lot has happened in the last week (a week went by already?) but I never finished writing about Italy, and I know everyone is waiting anxiously and everything (ha) so I'll do that now.

Day 3: Florence-I think I ended with Hannah and I passing out at 10:30 pm. Well, we woke up the next morning (Egyptian drifter man was still asleep, thank God), ate breakfast (which in Italy is entirely made up of pastries. How Italians are so skinny is a question that will always be on my mind...), and went to the train station to catch our mid-afternoon ride to Florence.  I was looking forward to Rome originally just because hey, it's Rome, but I was always way more excited for Florence.  Even though I had clearly never been there before, many of my closest friends studied there and told me how beautiful the city was. So, let's just say I knew Florence would be a special place for me.

We arrived quickly on a speedy train that I accidentally bought a ticket for (instead of the cheaper, but slower option) and Gabby met us at the train station.  Gabby and Christy are two of my teammates and friends from UConn, and they agreed to host Hannah and me for a few nights.  I was unbelievably excited to see them, and even within the first five minutes of being in Florence I absolutely loved it.  We got gelato for the second day in a row (sensing a pattern?) and walked along the river to Gabby and Christy's apartment, which they share with six other girls in their program.  Their apartment was big, but also cozy, and since Gabby is the best person in the world she made us dinner!

The chef at work!

To be completely honest, the reason why Florence was amazing was because Christy and Gabby were the greatest hosts ever.  They gave us food, a place to sleep, and they are also two of the best people I know (I think I've said that already, whoops, but I love them!), which made things even better.  Both of them are so relaxed, kind, and seriously don't care what anybody thinks. I am so lucky to have them in my life, and I am also so glad I have an amazing soccer team to go back to in the fall! If I take nothing else away from Florence, it is that I am blessed with the most amazing friends/teammates and I should never, ever take them for granted.  (Side note: being abroad has made me appreciate my friends even more than I already did. I miss everyone SO much and think of everyone every single day, but being able to see some of these friends abroad is possibly one of the greatest gifts I could ever receive).

Anywho, aside from the corny mushiness of how much I love Gabby and Christy, I was amazed by the beauty of Florence.  My aunt told me how nice it was, but you never really understand things like that until you see it with your own eyes.  Gabby and Christy had to do a photo project for class, so we spent a lot of the weekend running around trying to get the perfect picture. Even though they hated their project, I had such a good time seeing the city with them!  Since I am a history nerd, the most interesting part of Florence in my opinion was the Ponte Vecchio.  Apparently, Hitler loved this bridge because he could see all of Florence from it.  At the end of World War Two, he destroyed all of the bridges in Florence to attempt to prevent the inevitable British invasion, but kept the Ponte Vecchio because he thought it was pretty.  So, there's your history lesson of the day everybody!

Christy, Me, and Hannah and the Ponte Vecchio in the background

Day 4: Florence: Christy and Gabby had to study for their midterms, so Hannah and I set off to wander Florence alone.  We saw everything, I think, in another whirlwind day.  I can't even remember everything we did, but in the morning we attempted to find a bagel shop.  We couldn't find it, and I was whiny and annoying, but I realized that I am a different traveler than I thought.  I am a very Type A person, and like to have everything planned out and get annoyed when things do not go accordingly.  However, and maybe this is me changing a little, I realized that when I travel I don't really like having a plan.  As I wandered the streets of Florence (with Hannah trailing behind me, whoops) I had the best time simply looking around.  I saw people riding bikes everywhere, clothes hanging from clotheslines over the street and out windows, tiny streets that I have previously only seen in movies, and the sounds of Italian pouring out of every storefront.  A little off-topic, but I absolutely LOVE hearing Italian.  It sounds so passionate, and every word is combined with grandiose hand motions.  Maybe if I master Spanish, I'll move onto Italian next (hey, there are fairly similar...shouldn't be that hard!).  Anyways, we went to see the David, which was cool, but again, I am not really into art, and wandered through a few other museums.  We met a nice Australian woman at the museum where the David is, and I realized another amazing thing about traveling: meeting people from all over the world!

My friend Alex has been in Florence for the whole year since she is an art major, and we decided to meet up for lunch.  It was great to see her and catch up a little, and I can't wait to see her again at UConn in the fall! After lunch, Hannah and I got gelato (third time, fourth for her) and wandered a little.  We went to San Lorenzo market, which is a huge leather market, and I bought a scarf.  I have been really good about spending money, so I figured I owed myself a little gift.  We went back to the apartment, and headed up to the Plaza Michelangelo with Christy and Gabby. The view was unreal-a panoramic picture of all of Florence! There was a man with a giant bubble making contraption, music, and people sitting and checking out the view.  It was incredibly relaxing to be there, and it was probably my favorite part of Italy.

Bubble man!

That night, I saw two of my other friends (lots of friends), Matt and Jordan.I knew them both separately and they didn't know each other at all before, but they are now roommates (small world, again).  Then, I met up with my good friend Mike's girlfriend, Liz, who I had never met but felt like I knew already.  She was super nice and I had such a good time talking to her.  Mike, if you are reading this (which you aren't), I approve (not that you asked for my approval).

The next morning, we woke up, got BAGELS (!!) at the mysterious bagel place we couldn't find before (with Gabby's help) and prepared to leave Florence.  I was so sad to leave Gabby and Christy and my new favorite city, but it was time to go back to Rome.  We said our goodbyes and were on our way.

I truly hope to get back to Florence someday.  It was such a romantic city, and I usually reject all forms of romance, so it takes a lot for me to say that.  I'm sure I can find other people who would want to go back to Florence too (Shannon, Braelynn, etc), so maybe it's not an impossible dream. :)

Rome Day 4: We got back to Rome by the early afternoon.  Before this trip, I strongly stated, "I REFUSE to see any more cathedrals on this continent."  However, in the same breath, I also exclaimed by desire to go to the Vatican. Oh, wait, you mean the Vatican is basically a giant cathedral? Blonde moment 8,000 for me.  I promise I'm actually smart.

So, we went to the Vatican.  Again, I don't like art, but I did want to see the Sistine Chapel, HOWEVER I did not realize I would have to go through an entire ART museum to see it. Much to Hannah's chagrin, I sped my way through the museum, en route to the Sistine Chapel (again, that's a chapel, which is a lot like a cathedral...).  Instead of pretending to be interested in my surroundings (Why are there so many tapestries? How many headless statues are actually necessary?), I counted the number of Yankee hats in the Vatican City. I think I got up to fifteen, versus one or two Red Sox hats.  This affirms my theory that the Yankees are the best team on the planet.

I know I sound bratty so I WILL say that I'm glad we went to the Vatican. It was interesting to see, and there is obviously a lot of history involved, so if I ever settle on what I actually want to do with my life, being able to say I've been there will be a valuable asset.  The Sistine Chapel was a bit of a letdown (I thought it would be bigger) but it's still amazing that Michelangelo was able to paint the entire thing by himself.

We left the Vatican, got dinner with Hannah's friend from school (pizza! mm) and then prepared to spend the night in the Rome airport.  In case anyone ever goes to this airport with the goal of spending the night there: don't.  They close the departures section from 2-4:30 AM, and security doesn't even open until 5 AM.  I slept (no, lied down) on the cold tile floor of the arrivals section, among many other American travelers.  I don't know if this is actually true, but I blame this night for the sickness that came a few days later.

Still, though, every single part of the trip was amazing, eye-opening, and 100% worth the exhaustion and illness that happened afterwards.  Although my contact with them was limited, the Italians are an amazing group of people.  They are passionate, loud, and intense about everything they do. The Spanish, in comparison, are intense in a quieter kind of way, which is very hard to explain over writing.  I guess the best way to explain is that the Italians openly show their emotions, whereas Spanish often do not (in my experiences).  The most accurate example I can think of is what Lindsay's mom told me about attending soccer games in both countries: In Spain (she went to a FC Barcelona game), the crowd was mainly quiet because they were focused on the game.  They burst into songs and cheered wildly when Barcelona scored, but for the most part, they were intensely glued into what was happening on the field (with obviously random curse words thrown in here and there).  The Italians, by comparison, are extremely loud when watching soccer games and (apparently) narrate the whole game through a slew of Italian curse words, slang, and excitement.  There is a time and place for both attitudes, but for now, I think I might like the Italian version better. (Random addition: I also like the way Italian men look in comparison to Spanish men, but this is probably irrelevant. And I don't mean Jersey Shore Italian, might I add. That's gross.) I absolutely want to travel to more cities in Italy one day. I think I could stay there for a month and not see everything I would want to see.

So, yeah, that was Italy.  I couldn't have asked for a better long weekend.

Lauren

Spanish hospitals but more importantly, ITALY!

So I gave in. I went to the hospital. My señora was very, very concerned about me, so my director pretty much told me I should go, so off to the Spanish hospital my director and I went! I ran to the taxi when it came to pick me up (even though I am dying of a serious illness, duh), and arrived at the hospital quickly. No one there spoke English, so a big shout out to Lay (my director) for translating a lot of things (I understood a lot, but I felt as though hospital lingo was not something I wanted to mess up). The doctor examined me for five minutes, and said I had a virus that he sees in a lot of foreigners when they visit Granada. Oh boy, aren't I lucky? Anyways, they asked if I wanted a shot to get rid of the stomach discomfort, and I obviously said yes (I was in pain).  I expected a shot in my arm, like normal procedure. When the doctor (who was carrying an Adidas soccer bag to store his medicine in) told me to stand up, I realized I was wrong........let's just say it wasn't in my arm.

Anywho, they gave me lots of meds which added up to a grand total of 26 euro.  All hail the Spanish health system!

The taxi driver who drove my director and I back was hilarious.  I was wondering why he was so interested to know about the United States (Granada-ians don't normally care), and why I could understand him so clearly, and then I found out he was indeed NOT Spanish.  Peruvian, actually.  We had a nice conversation about how Spain has "no snow, no rain, and no jobs." It's true, unfortunately.  Then he said it snowed "A LOT!!" last winter in Granada. I laughed and asked, "How much?" He said..."Oh my, it covered the whole street and lasted for 2 hours!" ..........okay. Well, I told him that the snow was up to my neck last year in Connecticut.  His eyes widened. He could not believe it. Silly people from warm climates!

Soooo I guess now I'll write about Italy. This is going to be long, so I suppose I'll divide it into different posts. We'll start with the first day.

Day 1 & 2-Rome: Hannah and I departed Granada en route to Madrid on an 8 AM bus in order to make our late afternoon/early evening flight to Rome.  The bus from Granada to Madrid takes five hours plus a 40 minute metro ride to the airport, so we allowed extra time.  We flew Ryanair, and Hannah warned me that Ryanair is kind of the worst/corniest/weirdest airline ever.  My response was, "Who is Ryan?" Me and my dumb comments...

It actually wasn't that bad, in reality.  They were strict about bag size, but I only brought my backpack, so I was okay.  Hannah was right about the corny-ness.  When Ryanair lands they play a weird airhorn sound and announce "Welcome to your destination, another on time flight provided by Ryanair, the most on time airline in Europe!"  Too bad they list their arrival times as much later than they actually are...Oh Ryanair, always trying to make yourself look good.

So we landed in Rome safe and sound, and headed towards our hostel.  Kathleen and Taylor stayed there last year when they went to Rome, and said it was fine, so I trusted them.  As I climbed the 7 flights of stairs up the hostel, I cursed them the entire time.  Luckily, the hostel owner was very nice, spoke great English, and gave us our room. I signed up for a 4 bed room, thinking it would be nice to meet other young travelers.  Boy, was I wrong.  The hostel said they had a forty year old age limit, and a week long stay policy, but it seemed as though our roommate fell into neither category.  He seemed to be all moved in, and was certainly over forty.  He was an Egyptian drifter type, said he lived in Germany now.  Who knows though.  He ended up being harmless in the end, but it was definitely an interesting and sketchy experience.  I slept with my passport, wallet, and iPhone under my pillow.

The first night we went to a great restaurant right near our hostel.  We ate in the basement, complete with a piano and an older Italian man playing music the entire time.  The whole restaurant was beautifully decorated, and it seemed like it was from the movies.  I loved every second of it, and my spaghetti was delicious!

When we woke up the next day, we were feeling very adventurous and were determined to see all the sights in Rome.  Off to the Colosseum we went! It was cool to see all of the old architecture and ruins, since I had always read about them in my history books.  I'm not really big on ancient history, but at least now I can say I've been there.  We also saw the Roman Forum, the Pantheon (I didn't know this was in Rome-I thought it was in Greece. But that's apparently the Parthenon. Woops. Promise I am a history major, really.), the Spanish Steps (which were way too crowded and we didn't even venture up them), and finally, the Trevi Fountain. Whew, that tired me out just writing it down! Jen Brown, my good friend from Simsbury, was in Rome too, and we agreed to meet at the Trevi Fountain at three.  What we didn't realize was that the Trevi Fountain is a very very crowded place. After much searching, I spotted Jen in the crowd and SPRINTED towards her.  We embraced, yelled, and yelled some more, drawing the attention of pretty much everybody around us.  It was so awesome to see her, and how often can you say that you ate gelato at the Trevi Fountain with a childhood friend?

Most delicious gelato I had on the trip!

Later that night, I met up with Lindsay and her family because they were all in Rome too! Thanks to Mr. Robbins for buying us dinner. I had my first pizza. It was great. It was also good to see Lindsay and her whole family (Minus Danielle), because I love seeing familiar faces in unfamiliar countries!

Hannah and I had plans to go out for a few drinks at the end of the day, but once we returned to the hostel, we climbed into our beds and fell asleep by 10:30.  Hey, we had a long day! 

I'll write about the rest of Italy later, as my stomach is being all cranky and I need to lie down.  Hasta luego!

Lauren

Apparently, you can die from a low fever.

In another one of my Señora's idiosyncrasies, she is absolutely, 100% convinced that I need to go to the hospital due to my low (100 degree) fever and stomach pains.  In the United States, this is referred to as the flu. Or even just "flu-like symptoms."  In Spain, this is considered death. They love medicine here. Can't get enough of it. Have a sore throat? Here, take a pill.  Headache? More pills.  Stuffy nose? Oh, here, this will help! I had a bloody nose a few days ago, you know, one of the normal ones everyone gets when the air is dry and cold, and my Señora repeatedly asked if I needed to go to the doctor or the hospital.  She was quite insistent, but that might be because I shoved two tissues up my nostrils.  Hey, at least I didn't use a tampon like in She's the Man.

They also love fruit, especially oranges, and orange juice.  Both medicine, fruit, and juice have been forced down my stomach today, as my Señora sits and watches me until I take/eat/drink them under her watchful eye.  The problem? Fruit always makes my stomach hurt more.  Also, oranges/orange juice and random medicine that might have aspirin in it=certain acid reflux episode.

I am doing well. I also happen to be a master at sarcasm.

Don't worry though, I already feel better. That part isn't sarcasm.  Last night the fever hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was suddenly shaking uncontrollably and ran to my Señora screaming, "TENGO LA GRIPE!" (i have the flu).  It probably scared her when I ran away mid conversation to attempt to throw up, and she has not calmed down.  By all accounts, I am fine.  Just a little virus-her daughter is a doctor and examined me, and said my throat was fine, my stomach was fine, and I have a virus.  And then she told me I needed to go to the hospital, but we'll ignore that (I am learning what to listen to and what to ignore, kind of like at home with my own parents...).  Also, apparently the way to beat a fever is to sit in a bed completely naked for an entire day. I don't buy it.

I woke up at 9 AM to my Señora staring at me from next to my bed. Now THAT'S a way to wake up. I jolted awake, and she started laughing and simply...walked out of the room. Why was she in the room watching me sleep? I have no idea.  I don't think I'm that interesting in my sleep.  But, it makes me happy that she is worried and cares about me a lot.

I think she is a little mad at my rejection of the fruit, the medicine, and the juice (I prefer water, or gatorade-which I don't have in the house but kind of want to go get at the grocery store-they have it here!).  But I care more about my random acid reflux attacks than her feelings, to be honest (acid reflux hurts and is uncomfortable and terrible).  I'm convinced her thermometer is wrong.  It says I have a fever of 101.3, but usually when I have fevers of 101.3, I can't move, lift my head, walk around, talk, or stare at a computer.  I've done of those things in the last 30 minutes.  Also, there is a strange man with suspenders on in the kitchen right now with a plunger over the sink.  The microwave is broken too. I am confused.

I haven't updated this in forever, and there's really no excuse-I only had two days of classes last week.  BUT, since I last wrote, I've been to Italy and back, and I plan on writing a lengthy post about the trip, because it was amazing.  Maybe I'll do that once my head stops spinning, and hopefully before I leave for London on Thursday.

In all honesty, she is a very nice lady and I like her. I am only being all complain-y because I'm sick, and also because I think all of her random (read: strange) habits are funny.  This is definitely a cultural experience: being sick without my real mom here is making me see that clearly. I've never had to Wikipedia medicine before to find out exactly what it is (thank you to my good friend Shannon, who is always reliable and looks up complicated things for me-apparently, the medicine did not have aspirin in it! Hooray!), and I've certainly never been told to remove all of my clothes for an entire day due to a fever. I'm not sick enough to not see the humor in all of this, and unlike my Señora, I am fairly confident I am not dying, nor do I need to go to the hospital.

Peace, love, and fevers,

Lauren