First Post! Hurrah!

Well howdy, y'all. This is Comrade Rafa, here to tell you that I have yet another blog. Yes, new and exciting! Here are the ground rules I've set myself for this one: 1. I can type en español cuando quiero, y nobody is allowed to argue with me about it. If it's so necessary, ask for a translation. 2. It can be about whatever I feel like, including el tenis, el comunismo, y el tenista Nadal. 3. I will post on it a bunch and it will be fun for everyone!!! 4. Regular features will include Mad Rants, boring descriptions of my everyday life, my tournament results, and recent English mistakes I've made.

That seems to be about it for ground rules. How do I get my font and color to change? I can do it on Windows, but not Mac, which is bad news because I am a Mac user.

Tennis: Rafael Nadal ha perdido hoy. I'm sad in a pathetic way, y my dad is feeling sorry for me. Between my brutal loss to 'Hantuchova' on Friday and Rafael's heartbreaking defeat, I guess there's reason enough. He let me watch Limewired episodes of House while eating dinner and then didn't wince while watching me consume a Klondike bar. Even I was wincing inside, due to the sheer unhealthiness of the thing. And on Friday night, I had Diet Dr. Pepper. That's soda. For those of you who don't know me or my Dad, soda is considered devil-juice in this househould. My mom is basically addicted to Diet Mountain Dew, however. But she still almost never lets me have soda. Dad keeps making comparisons (me-'Hantuchova' to Rafa-Roger) which is usually my job. Ha sido un fin de semana full-on weird.

Errores in inglés:

Man I work with: You want any of this, y'all?
Me: What's y'all?


Gas Station Lady: How are you?
Me: I am good. Well. Adverb.
---slightly later-----------
G.S.L.: Have a nice day!
Me:You, also, have a nice one. Day.
G.S.L.: Thanks.
Me: Yes


Cashier at Borders eyes my copy of National Geographic en español
Dad: Do you want to know the World Cup Scores?
Cashier: Soccer? Sure
Me: Football. With feet.
I point to my foot.
Me: Italy, they won. It was shoot-out.
Dad: And that foul by Zidane! Red card, no?
Me: What a moron, no?


That guy probably thinks we're visitors from Barça.