But I thought it was TEFLON!

Here I am with the padres in a restaurant in Barcelona...the champagne is in celebration (I just had gotten in to UPenn).

Sorry for the lack of pictures. I've been studying my butt off all day for my Contemporary History of Spain test tomorrow. Basically all you need to know is that every other year from 1808 until 1875 Spain changed not only presidents, but total governing systems. And that Isabel II's children were not the king's (who was presumed homosexual according to wikipedia facts) but one of the member's of the Royal Guard. And with that knowledge I'm hoping to rock the face off an essay exam.

It's Sunday night (exactly 2 weeks from when Adolfo told me he was leaving--- Adolfo is the owner/roommate/guy who kicked out my friend Eduardo from the apartment putting me in an awkward situation landlord). Paco (who moved in to replace Eduardo) and I have a bet on when he will be back. Now this is complicated, possibly in the future I'll draw a visual map to guide you through it, but Adolfo basically lies to us when he leaves so that we don't have parties. And he told Paco from the beginning that he would be back in 4 days (two Thursdays ago) and told me that he'd be back today (2 weeks from take-off). Now that he's not back I give it 2 more weeks, Paco gives it 1. Which is all fun and games until I need to do my laundry (washer's door is still not fixed). Interestingly enough it's all connected because the broken washer door was part of the initial ammunition for "echando" Eduardo.

Maybe a map would be better next time? Wow, it's like more complicated then Spanish history from the 19th century.

Basically moral of the story is as follows...don't live with the owner of the apartment and don't ever pay 2 months security deposit because then you can't leave. And never put plastic in the oven (I'll explain that one next time)