Four Days? You Kidding?

So it's Sunday May 16th and I'm freaking out.
How can it be so close to the day that I leave the second best country in the world?
In so many ways it feels like I just got here, but at the same time, I can hardly remember what it was like to live at home or in my old dorm.

I've developed a really strange habit as a result of being here and I asked a bunch of my friends if they have it too, and it turns out I'm not alone. We are CONSTANTLY thinking, "how would I say that in Spanish?" as we go through our days here. Constantly. That being said, we've begun to do almost the same thing as we look back on situations we've already been in or are about to go through. For example, I was thinking about how I quit my job at Red Robin, and seeing as it was a sticky situation, I thought to myself, "seriously, how did I get through that??" before I remember that I was still allowed to speak English at that point.
Then, I was thinking about how it will be when I got to see my grandma again. I kept planning what I would say first, and how I would say it, and this weird thought process continued till I finally remembered she doesn't even speak Spanish, so I should probably switch to English again.

There's also something I've yet to mention that I wanted to wait till one of my last blogs to discuss... because it's disgusting:
Here in Spain, they've taken a number of measures to keep the heat from entering the homes of the Sevillanos. Such as, marble floors, which stay cool, no screens in any windows, gaps under all the doors, which are bigger than the ones in the US, and lots of smooth, stone surfaces. This makes for some awesome acoustics. So, when one is called by nature, that one's business is heard by EVERY ONE in the apartment. There is nothing to muffle the sounds and there is very little that can be done to counteract the effects of the acoustics.
That being said, there is a certain kind of closeness that is maintained by people who have to share that same echo-friendly apartment. You learn each other's... "schedules". It's awful.
I can't wait to have a bathroom with a fan (because bathrooms here don't have fans either!)
I also want a politically incorrect, long, water-wasting shower.
I also cannot wait to share a living space with people who aren't going to judge me for not going out every single night.
The other day, Mari told me, "No sales casi nunca... Pero cuando sales... OO-EE!" She thinks I never go out. She is accustomed to the Spanish kids who go out almost every night of the week (leaving the house at about 11 or 12) and getting back at around 3 or 4. But, I am an American. And there are some things that I may WANT to change... but I can't. So, when I am getting ready to go out and it is 11:45 and I've yet to leave the house, my body goes into "all-nighter mode". So, I don't come back till 6 or 7 (right around when she gets up and significantly later than most Spaniards). I sleep in late, I'm groggy all day, and I can't get up the strength to go out that night. So, my host mom judges me.

This week was a roller coaster ride. Monday seemed to keep creating situations that would smash me over the head till I was beaten and bruised by 6:10 pm. To give you the short version: it was supposed to be the best kind of day, but it turned into a beast of a day. It was to consist of 2 field trips and a movie. Fin.
Instead, we walked 20 minutes to get to the museum for my first class (after getting to school early) and the museum was closed. So, we walked all the way back to continue with a normal class and get our tests from last week back.
I did awful on my test and I thought I'd done at least decent.
Then, the movie for my second class turned out to be a dubbed version of the SAME MOVIE I'd used to write my FINAL paper for the SAME class. I'd used an English version (bc no Spanish translation was given on the site) and it was my main source for the paper. I'd sited it the whole way through, but never put in direct quotes because, technically, it wasn't being quoted, it was being translated... I was TERRIFIED that my professor would think I'd just copied the Spanish version and he'd give me a zero (it didn't help that he was my super-handsome professor!) Finally, my third class was supposed to be a field trip too, but apparently, my Lit teacher wasn't the only one that forgot that, in Spain, all museums are closed on Mondays.
GRRRRrr...
Tuesday was normal, I asked my prof if he wanted me to change my paper and use the Spanish version, and he said it wasn't a big deal and not to worry about it. (I should have known!!! This IS Spain, for Heaven's sakes, since when do they get bent outta shape for ANYTHING?)
I prepared for finals all week. Thursday was our last day of classes. Friday was my most important final... Lit. I had to make up for my bad test score. I studied really hard, and I was sure I had most of it down. Come Friday morning, my allergies are in high gear. My nose won't stop running and I keep sneezing. So, in lieu of being "that girl" who during the whole test sniffles and during the whole test you just want to command her to get a tissue so the class can resume taking their test in peace, I took some "non-drowsy" benedryl.
During the test, it was all I could do to wake up before my head came crashing down onto my desk as I nodded off YET AGAIN.
Despite my drugged state, I actually think I managed a good grade on my test.
As the day wore on, I turned out to be just the first, and not the only, person in my apartment that took an allergy drug.
As we were eating lunch, I was staring at my plate and drinking insane amounts of water between bites to keep my mouth constantly busy, as usual, and as my roommate grunted, cleared her throat, cracked her neck, stretched her arms, laughed at a message on her phone (whatever it takes for her to call attention to herself. Normally, were it any other person, you would ask, "oh, are you sore from your martial arts class?" or "what's so funny?" or "you sick?" but, I've gotten so used to it, I almost hardly hear it. Plus, if you get her talking... she doesn't stop, which makes it really awkward when I've already finished eating and I'm standing at the door "listening" and nodding, wondering when I can interrupt her and exit the kitchen). Anyway, she's mid-bite in this little fried tuna thing that we have almost once a week. Suddenly, she curses in Spanish (because, after all, she "thinks" in Spanish (HER version of it, anyway), so it's hard for her to switch back.......... GROAN) and she BOLTS from the room. Very dramatic. Very her.
She comes back in, and I already know EXACTLY what is going on. We'd gotten an extra sweet batch of tuna things and it even caught my attention. But, she was "CONVINCED" that there were peaches in her fried tuna thing. SO, she was worried her terrible allergy would flare up.
I didn't initiate conversation with her when she walked back in.
I didn't wanna hear it.
So, I kept eating, but faster. She sat there huffing and puffing and acting nervously. Finally, she spoke. "Did you taste peaches?"
I slowly looked up from my plate and said, "no, I did not."
"Well, I did, and I ate one. So, good job, S******, you killed yourself."
[eye roll]
She continued eating, but slower and I could see her look at her arms and rub them every now and then. She was "checking for hives".
If you had a super strong allergy, wouldn't you QUICKLY question the maker of the food about the ingredients? I would!
She waited to ask Mari about the peaches until after she finished eating... Mari looked at her like she was some kind of idiot when she asked her. "Who would fry peaches???" hahahhahahhah
So, she spent the rest of the afternoon very nervous, but I wasn't conscious for it. I was in a benedryl-induced coma.

Friday was also Angela's birthday. I got her a sweater to replace the one that was stolen from her on the Love Boat the weekend before. I also rounded up as many people as I could so we could all head to the Torre to celebrate her birthday and get together one last time.
I was QUITE happy and surprised by the number of people who showed. I'd sent the invite on FB and only 20 people could receive it at once. So, obviously, some people were left out.
We botelloned (to botellon = to drink outside a bar, or in the street, it's illegal, but not enforced (like every other law here) in fact, several cop cars drove by during our party haahha.) for a while until people began getting fussy or running out of booze. It was so nice having so many of us together. There were prolly 60 or 70 people there and at a school of 100 (when people aren't on vacation) that was impressive.
We ended up at one of the bars we frequented during our first, naive weeks in Spain... On Calle Betis.
It SHOULD be called Calle Americano because there are SO many American students and English speaking bars down this one road. We didn't stay long.
We went to Buddah and pretended to be dating some random Spaniard boys to get in. FAIL.
So, we went to El Catedral. We got in right away, but were constantly hit on and this week Jenny's coat was stolen! This must be the bar where any Spanish guy who wants to get an American girl goes. Because, those were the only two kinds of people there. No Spanish women (which I THOUGHT would be a good thing).
It was a great night though. So fun.

So for now, I'm wrestling with time. Trying to soak up all the Spain I can, but thinking about my family and friends in the USA. I think I'm the only person at CC-CS that's ready to head back. I mean, my bags are 75% packed... hahaha
Only two more finals, a party, a plane ride, another plane ride, and I'm home!
Wait for me! :)