Two Posts, One Night.

October 15th, 2010.

School.
Kicked it up about seven notches.
My first assignment? A non-argumentative paper about importance. (Specifically the importance of Spanish.)
To begin with, this concept of a non-argumentative paper about the 'importance' of something.
The concept still hurts my mind.
I asked the teacher in rather broken Spanish, like I do, how one writes a non-argumentative paper, over something like this.
The difference?
Facts apparently.
Non-argumentative papers, have facts.
Argumentative papers have opinions. (And generally boil down to 'Morals, which are Bollocks, but that's another rant.)
I don't know about you English majors out there (What do you do with that major? Explain things like this to people like me?) but as someone who loves to argue, I can't tell the difference.
I have to lie to myself, and tell myself the difference between the two papers is an argumentative paper tackles a subject with a lot of controversy, and a non-argumentative one covers something most people would say 'Okay, I guess.' to.
The importance of an entire language, is pretty easy to argue for, sure, especially the fourth most common language in the world, but immediately my mind starts arguing against it. Which is more fun.
Anyhow I never finished the paper.

More pour choices.
My intercambio and I had set up a meeting, to go out for a couple of beers on Thursday night, and at the time (Tuesday or so) it sounded like a good idea. I forgot this was one of the weeks where we'd have school on a Friday.
Not only that, but I had a paper to be working on.
A frustrating and difficult paper, where I was trying far to hard to follow construction rules.
I got to the area where we were to meet early, so I could pregame the meeting with a pint. (I figured it would loosen me up, stop worrying about speaking grammatically correct, and focus more on expressing ideas.) Like I mean to imply with the short title, these aren't my greatest choices.
What was a great choice was a new addition to my surgical steel collection. (This was before the drinking, and before the bad choice making, though there are those who would disagree with me. I'm sure the next time I see my Grandpa Tim he'll tell me how stupid it is. He does so with every piercing I get.)



Subtle, no?


Hardly even noticeable with that silly scarf and hat. Also, this kid needs to shave!


A little bead of light.


If you haven't found it yet, here it is.

I like it, and it was cheaper than anything I've gotten state-side. I may go back for more...
It was a cold day, and my ears were not exactly covered by hair or hat, so they were getting chilly, and a dull pain was setting in.
Solution?
Shot of vodka.
After that and a few beers, and an interesting night of hanging out with two other USACers and all of our intercambios (These are like Study-abroad buddies, who we get assigned if we want to, so we can hang out with locals.)
I arrived at my flat, and sat down to write my paper, and it simply was not going to happen four to five drinks in, (One pint, One shot, and two glasses of beer) so I made the same stupid choice I always fall for. I went to sleep, and set my alarm for 4:00am.
This time, however I did wake up.
I tackled the paper, and actually finished it in word.
What I didn't finish was transcribing it to paper.
Bollocks.


Today.
After a very slow and tired day in class (Friday classes are always slow and tired here) we went to have a tour of the local futbol stadium.
'The Cathedral' where the Lions play.
The Athletic Club. (Team Atleti)
In case you are wondering, they are the Lions because San Mames was supposed to be fed to the Lions like your average christian joe back in the day.
Strange these romanticized things, like torture devices and barbaric crowd pleasers.
Speaking of romanticized things, (Don't tell me I wasn't!) the all Basque futbol team hasn't been doing so well as of late, even though they were an amazing team back in the day. Reason being, they are stubborn, and kind of interestingly so. The Athletic Club only hires Basque futbol players. Not only do they not scout outside of Spain, but they won't take anyone who isn't Basque.
That is actually really cool, and considering where they rank it is actually a really good team, but they cannot keep up with most of the other teams in Spain. Lately they've been losing often, but not badly.
Strange things, pride and the results.



Official old-school futbol hats!


Mister Pentland was one of the first coaches in Bilbao.
The first famous coach. His hat and cigar were his insignia.
Coaches in Spain are called Mister, because they were
originally all from England.


The official Lion.


This guy, whose name escapes me now, was one of the first Club Athletic players, he was really great, and now whenever a new player joins this particular team, they give flowers to this bust.


The official trashcan of Club Athletic.



This man is the true hero.


Club Athletic's response to not having a wide variety of players to choose from.



This is going to be an extension of the current field.


Goodbye Futbol stadium, it's been fun!

Afterwards me and 'That Boy,' for Siddhartha's sake lets give him a name, a fake name of course, can we call him 'Jack.' (I don't know any Jacks, I do know a Jackson, but he's in Olympia. Funny story, Austin Nichols and Jackson Daniels living in the same house. Pity Dani isn't named after alcohol. Ah digression, I shall miss you when I am married to my faithful readers.)
So me and Jack went to get some pastries, and to go shopping. (I am such a sucker for pastries.) We wanted something they call Churros and Chocolate. Supposedly Hot Chocolate and semi-sweet fried dough (not like the American/Mexican kind with cinnamon, but similar idea).

Oh no.
No.
Hot Chocolate is a poor translation.
Hot Chocolate is a milk based (Don't put water in that! What are you doing!?!? You are ruining Christmas! I swear I will un-propose to you so fast!) drink that you make by mixing powder and marshmallows to hot milk. (I said no water! I'm sorry I threatened to un-propose to you, but you really hurt me with all your talk of water and hot-chocolate. I promise I will try and express these things before I let myself fly off the handle again, but I need you to promise me you won't insult the idea of delicious cocoa with the idea of water.)
This? This was more along the lines of Hot Fudge.
In a cup.


Looks like a beverage to me.


So smooth!


Uhm.... what?


OH MY GOLDEN BUDDHA ITS HOT FUDGE!!!


Yeah, I like 'em cream-filled.


Apparently, they actually are pretty tart.

They had no churros, but we made do with sweet croissants, and I had a few more pastries... cheap as dirt these. Well, cheaper than you'd think.
I spent 5€ all told. Not bad.
Oh.
And they serve Gelado based Helado.
I didn't get any because I gorged myself on pastries, but next time.
Helado+'Hot Chocolate?' = Win.

The rest of my day was spent in bed sleeping, and updating this blog. This kid's got more sleep to catch up on, so you all enjoy the strong opinions, pictures, and have a fantastic weekend.


Kishpike Out.

No comments:

Post a Comment