My Day at Work

So. Today was fairly uneventful. I spent most of the time between groups floating around in the hot tub. It was only about luke-warm today. Anyway, while I was in there, I thought about several things: Rafa's car accident and whether he is ok (more about that later), the exciting prospect of Cristiano Ronaldo coming to play in Madrid, and the sad idea of him playing for another four years in a country that doesn't love him. ¡Man U does not deserve Cristiano! ¡He is no appreciated in England! When I got especially sad and pensieve, sometimes I could feel the Closet Hand (I'll explain this sometime) in my hair. It felt nice, and comforting, although it could have been the bubbles.

Rafa's car accident: Rafael Nadal, my celebrity crush and one true love, crashed his car into an electrical post yesterday. I'd really prefer not to explain the entire thing again, as I translated the whole Segundos Fuera article yesterday. Why don't I have any friends who can speak Spanish and read the articles I send them? Basically, Rafael is fine, although he was a little dizzy and confused for a bit. However, I read a note from him, and he seemed very happy and cheerful, (the fishing went well) and ended it with 'un abrazo a todos'. That means 'a hug to everyone'. Anybody watch The Office? Does this remind you of Dwight, in The Injury? Concussion?

I finally no longer have the fang-tooth attached to my mouth. Gracias a dios. Maybe I will be able to speak better now? Maybe I will be able to say words with an 's' in the beginning, and not confuse 'l' and 'r'? I hope so, although I did call one of the Cape Kids ehStephanie again. And, I started speaking Spanish to them a lot, and they don't seem to care, or even notice. Excellent. Whenever I see little kids I want to teach them Spanish. I almost went so far as to ask a question that requires an answer in Spanish, but figured it was too much. Too bad. I like to say ¿Te divertiste? more than Did you have fun?.

Dad told me an unfathomably bad joke about the weather in Madrid today. This came up while I was ranting about how Ronaldo will be better off in España where he will be loved. Anyway, the joke goes as follows: En Madrid, hay un mes de verano y once meses de infierno. Which means: In Madrid, there is one month of summer and eleven months of hell. The reason this is funny is that the spanish word for winter is invierno, only one letter away from the word for hell. As I said, unfathomably bad.