Out of phase

But if I'd known how that would sound to you
I would have stayed in your bed
for the rest of my life
Just to prove I was right
That it's harder to be friends than lovers
And you shouldn't try to mix the two'
Cause if you do it and you're still unhappy
Then you know that the problem is you

-Liz Phair

I haven’t seen the moon yet here. It must be out of phase. Whenever I’m in a foreign country and I see the moon, I’m always baffled that it’s the same one I see from the yard back home- I’m on a different land mass, yet I can still see it. I miss it. I hope it comes back soon. It reminds me too that all of you are out there.

It’s been quite a two weeks. Wow.

The weekends (fin de semana) are insane. I was out till 5 am on Friday. All of us from class went out and just kind of went nuts. NEVER do shots of Jameson with an Irish guy. It’s a no win situation. The gals went crazy too, picking up guys and making out with them right on the dance floor. Ay Carumba!

For once in my life I used a little more discretion and rapped with this English gal from class, Rachel, for like two hours. I was then smart enough to go straight home and fall into bed (I kind of had to because there was no room in my cell with the laundry rack still drying my stiff clothes), unlike Martin (the Irish Guy) who wound up in a Spanish Police station. Rachel, Deidre and I said goodbye to him at 5am and he didn’t get home til 7, so there are 2 hours that are unaccounted for. Now Martin, 44, doesn’t not speak one solitary word of Spanish- not a one. I asked him what the hell he did to get brought downtown – to which he replied that he had no fucking idea. The policia were shouting at him in Spanish and he just kept saying “No habla, no fucking habla” but he pronounced the H which should be silent, which makes it even funnier (I usually handle the Spanish when we go out – and he just goes to English speaking places a lot). Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity. Or public drunkenness. We’ll never know. Just another one of life’s great mysteries. All he could say is that after he said “No Habla” 19 times, they let him go. Thank god. Otherwise I would have woken up to a text message on my phone:

Hello lad- Have you ever planned a prison break?