So you know it is bad when you realize that you have set your alarm seven different times in one day: all to wake up at various times from various naps. Last night, I decided to take a nap before meeting up with my friends and I ended up waking up this morning at 11. I guess that is the reaction my American body gets from a Spanish schedule. My roommate’s philosophy is that we can sleep when we die. I guess I agreed until the point when my feet started throbbing, I ran out of the cover-up I used for the circles under my eyes and I found myself having daydreams about my bed. (I can see the look on my Dad’s face right about now, but don’t worry Dad, I can sleep when I die.)

In the theme of this post, last weekend, we went to the third largest carnival in the world, in Cadiz, Spain. The carnival lasted all day and all night, and the entire time we were there, I literally couldn’t move. To get places, we would all hold hands, and enter the stream. I barely had to take a step as I was simply jostled through the crowd. And if that wasn’t fun enough, you could throw out any idea of going to the bathroom. We were informed on the bus that we should be prepared to pee on the street and the guide proceeded to demonstrate what she named the “circle pee”. I decided that I would rather die of a bladder infection than partake in the circle pee, so the burger king became our central location of the night. During every push to the king, we would undoubtedly meet a new group (or six) of people dressed up. I think my favorite group was the three musketeers, first of all because they legitimately looked like they walked out of the sixteenth century and second of all because one gave me his sword.

Yesterday, we took a trip to Jerez de la Frontera, a small town in Andalucia known to be the birth place of the famous “Tio Pepe” sherry. Therefore, first stop, the “Tio Pepe” bodega! After the tour there was free sherry for all. I thought it tasted like gasoline, but everyone else seemed to like it. A family sitting at the table next to us even shared the sherry with their three year old daughter. In fact, I saw her down that sherry like a cup of apple juice. I decided instead, like any good college student, to take advantage of the free potato chips that came with my untouched sherry. After being hissed at (I guess he thought I couldn’t speak Spanish) I managed to obtain 4 bowls of potato chips for our table. Pshh…uncultured Americans. While licking the salt off my fingers, I glanced over once more and saw the 3 year old Spanish girl down her second glass.

Well, I must go and practice my Spanish-ness because I am apparently not up to par.