Oh, grenada, how you sing to me

That is, when people aren´t pouring booze on my head. This is how it went down.
(Alissa, walking back from park bathroom during botillon, where everyone goes to park and gets smashed)
Spanish Assholë: Tienes cigarollo?(cigerette)
Alissa: No fumo( i dont smoke)
Spanish Asshole: De dondes eres(where are you from)
Alissa: Chicago
THen the spanish asshole´s friend poured some of his rum and coke on my head.

WHO DOES THAT!

That was a mild disturbance of the night. The greater one was realizing that between highschool and now, it apparently it possible to become a wholly different person. A friend i met in grenada, who i havent seen in years, used to be intelligent, well-spoken, and basically not a buffoon(sp?). Not anymore. We saw a fubal game together, the real madrid and barcelona game(INTENSE!) and he just went off about soccer and players knowing a smidge more than nothing. I used to play, i knew more than him and i wasnt tearing everyone´s ears from their sockets. Do ears have sockets? hmm. But that could also be that i´´ve become accustomed to listenign along more here. What´s that quote though? Ah yes

¨¨I´d rather say nothing and have people think me a fool, than speak up and remove all doubt. ¨´

The dumbest thing he said all night was how he and his friend, while in a small beach town, had been ¨´date raped by fat chicks.¨¨ I asked if it would have been better if it had been by a ´´not fat chick´´´and he said , gee alissa even you have to admit that for one night stands its all physical.

Clearly what happened, is that he got drunk, made a poor choice, and now wants to shirk responsability for it. But by no means is he a victim here! I don´t know, i remember him being, well and maybe im the naive one here, but nicer. More noble, or something. Ok, and now i sound prissy. Ah well. I ended up going with juan(my spanish friend from ire) to a bar with his cousins and it was loud, crowded, and stuffy but other than that good. Hmm i seem to have dipped into a negative mood. But, its just that each day here i really try my best to survive. I try my best not to cry and give up because this is the hardest thing i´ve done in my life. Give me back my thesis, my improv mag and my internship. Double, triple the work. I promise, it would have been easier.

Last night, park of the park was on a hill. I looked down and saw little spanish dots of color. Drinking, laughing, and i felt like a watcher. That, i´ve become a watcher an observer in these past 7 weeks. And, while i know am rich with material to write about, i wonder if misery really is necessary for good fiction.

ps off to morroco(i hope) in 2 weeks!