Thoughts on Tshirts

I wondered at first why so many Spaniards wear t-shirts with English words printed on them. I know a lot of these people don't speak English, and probably don't even know what their shirt says. But then I thought again about Americans wearing shirts with stylish Chinese and Japanese writing on it. Tattoos even. There's an element of mystery and hidden meanings and symbolism. I think these people don't really realize that there are normal, everyday people out there who would find that shirt cliché or uninteresting or at worst incorrect and ungrammatical. How many people are there who would get a big tattoo reading, "Faith" or "Luck" or something, in big Latin letters?

If we don't really understand what's being said, our imaginations are free to make shit up and create some deep significance that is perhaps not really achievable with words. But then we just look silly to those who really do understand.

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Aside from that, Heather is arriving on Wednesday. That's super exciting! And sorry folks, no picture today. My camera is out of batteries and I'm too lazy to buy more. 

Planning

Sometimes I feel like a psychic. I know exactly what I will be doing during a given time, and it's kind of reassuring. Like during the week before Finals Week in college, I knew that I was gonna get up at 8 am on Monday, go to class for one hour, sit in the library for four hours to word-vomit a paper, go home, eat, study, and microwave the same forgotten cup of tea five times before going to bed. 

Sometimes these psychic powers are less specific, but more overarching. Like after I got my acceptance letter to Western, I had a vision that for the next four years I would be living in Bellingham. (spooky, eh?) 

But a lot of times, these powers of foresight fail me, and I don't know what's coming next. This not knowing is both freeing and scary. Freeing in the sense that I could feasibly do whatever I want, and scary in the fact that I am now an adult and somewhat capable of understanding what the consequences of my actions will be. (I know that if I bum around Europe all summer I will have no money come fall.)

So, lacking magic powers, I turn to logic, which has pretty much always served me better anyway. Therefore, here are a few of the pros & cons I've thought of concerning my plans for the future, specifically the summer. In case you don't know, I've applied for a summer course on Galician at the University of Santiago de Compostela, which lasts from July 4-24 and my options essentially boil down to A) Stay in Spain for the summer (I'm gonna be here again next year anyway), or B) Go home for the summer. 

Stay: Cheaper Two plane tickets is less expensive than the cost of living frugally in Santiago for two/three months Learn Galician at the University of Santiago How cool is that? Be in Europe for the summer again, pretty cool, right? Continue improving my Spanish No painful trans-atlantic flight Celeste may come visit

Go: See family and friends I'm sure they want to see me as well at least I hope so Visit old professors in person, talk about linguisticky things and big-girl school Go sailing Be in Washington for the summer which would be pretty cool as well Play my piano technically it's not mine-mine, but I do get to use it Did I mention see my family and friends already?

So, yeah. I think I've made my decision already (otherwise I probably wouldn't even be posting this. It will just take a little while for the idea to sink in, to let my psychic powers realize what the future has coming for me.
And now, since I do post a picture every time, here is this week's obligatory photo.

This is from this past weekend, when Julián and Sofía (remember them from way back when?) took me to see one of the few castles in Galicia. It was a little overgrown, but pretty cool to look at. 
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Oh, and hooray for my first ever adventure in HTML formatting! columns, woo!

Pome

So, my sister sent me a poem the other day, Greguerías by Ramón Gómez de la Serna. And I think it's one worth sharing more.

Here's the original Spanish: 

El pez más difícil de pescar es el jabón dentro del baño.

La nariz es el enchufe de las personas.

Las hojas caen con paracaídas.

El camión es la ballena que quiere comerse al ciclista.

La lechuga es toda enaguas.

La ametralladora suena a máquina de escribir de la muerte.

Cuando la mujer se estira mucho las medias parece que va a volar.

Las gaviotas nacieron de los pañuelos que dicen “¡adiós!” en los puertos

El desierto es la patria de los puntos suspensivos.

Roncar es tomar ruidosamente sopa de sueño.

El cero es el huevo del que salieron los demás números

Trueno: caída de un baúl por las escaleras del cielo

Ajos: dientes de bruja.

Celos: picos del amor.

La “ñ” es una “n” con bigote.

La “q” es la “p” que vuelve de paseo.

La “T” pide hilos de teléfono”

La “i” es el dedo meñique del alfabeto.

“Pingüino” es una palabra atacada por las moscas.

Un segundo es idéntico a un siglo: es un siglo en miniatura.

And my translation (though I'm sure Google could do a decent job as well)

The most difficult fish to catch is the soap in the bath

The nose is the electrical socket for people

Leaves fall with parachutes

The truck is the whale that wants to swallow the cyclist

Lettuce is all petticoats

The machine gun sounds like the typewriter of death

When a woman stretches a lot, her stockings seem like they're going to fly.

Seagulls are born from the handkerchiefs that wave "goodbye" in the ports.

The desert is the homeland of the ellipsis.

To snore is to slurp the soup of dreams

Zero is the egg from which the rest of the numbers are born

Thunder: the fall of a suitcase down the stairs of heaven

Garlic: the teeth of a witch
Jealousy: little bits of love

"ñ" is an "n" with a mustache

"q" is a "p" that has returned from a walk

"T" calls for telephone wires

"i" is the pinky finger of the alphabet

"Penguin" is a word attacked by flies.

A second is identical to a century: it is a century in miniature.

Some of these don't translate as well, namely line 14 (jealousy) because pico can be either: beak, peak, mouth, or a small amount; and line 19 because there's only one dotted letter in the English word. It could be swapped out for "Beijing" or "naïve."

EDIT: a better translation for lines 7 and 14, thanks to Celeste:

When a woman stretches in her stockings, she seems like she is going to fly

Jealousy: the stings of love

And now the obligatory photo:

It's a photo of Fonsagrada I took a while ago