A rather pessimistic view and I don’t normally hold it, but there are days when it proves unfortunately true. I had a little fling with Murphy on Monday, September 5. I had been up doing homework until 2 am and then had classes at 8:30 the next morning. I had to print my CV (curriculum vitae, aka résumé) so I planned to eat breakfast quickly, print it, and catch the bus. However, the cafeteria did not open on time, so I went straight to the front desk to get my CV printed. The printer wasn’t on, so the man at the front desk got it warming up. After ten minutes of waiting, I asked him if I went to get something to eat quickly and returned, would it be ready? He said yes, so I shoveled some breakfast down my throat and came back, only to find out that he didn’t have the login information for the printer. I waited for nearly ten minutes before deciding that I would just try to print it at campus.
Murphy’s Law decided it would rain. And so it did. I was not prepared for this, like the rest of the students who were all in shorts and tank tops, and was sufficiently showered by the time I got to the bus stop. We waited for about five minutes for the bus and 20 of us students watched as our bus slowed down and then rolled on by without stopping. The look on our faces must have been priceless because we were all in shock and horror. It was raining and our bus had deserted us.
It felt like nothing else could go wrong because it already had. I would come to class late and without my homework. In the wise words of one of my friends on the bus, “You know who’ve hit a low point when a bus rejects you.” We sang our woes in a jazzy tune entitled “The Struggle-Bus Blues” on the way there and ended up walking into class a half hour late. Our teacher was less than pleased that only one person had managed to make it to class on time. However, she saw how miserable, embarrassed, and genuinely sorry we were, so she forgave us and even let me bring in my CV a day late without penalty.
Yep, things were looking up. Murphy’s Law had its fun and would leave me be for the rest of the day.
It was our third and last week of classes and everyone was getting antsy to move out while others were still struggling to find their piso.
On Tuesday, I went shopping with a few friends. Now, I don’t normally go shopping because I kind of hate shopping. It’s annoying. It’s boring. And sometimes, it’s depressing. But mostly just annoying. However, when shopping, I realized how despite my attempts, I still look rather American. Now, I’ve never been a terribly fashionable person or even cared about fashion, but now I do. The goal is to fit in and feel confident, to have people come up to me and assume that I’m Catalan. I want to be one of those fashionable European types! (Who would have thought the day would come?) So, as I was just looking around, I was filled with these terrible thoughts: Was I doomed to look like an apparel-challenged American for my trip? Should I even bother trying if I’m totally not cut out for this?
But on Wednesday, I was resolved: I was to return to the stores with money and try. However, earlier that day I had a field trip to the Catalunyan History Museum, so my friend and I walked up the Ramblas to Plaça Catalunya. We were determined to return from the store victorious and super monas (super cute). I came home with a few good buys, but I still feel like there is room for improvement.
The Spanish, even on a basic, everyday level, have a different sense of style. People here are in good shape and wear clothes that fit them well. I don’t know how, but they just put their outfits together differently and they do it well. Additionally, I have become quite used to seeing men carrying bags. In fact, most of the men are quite well dressed. I could definitely get used to it. My favorite thing, however, is seeing men in nice suits riding their motos to work.
Things I will never get used to?
- Mullets. For men and women!
- Pants with the crotch down to the knees.
- Mullets. For men
and women. Really???
Haha! I feel the same way about the mullet thing. Why??????
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