Where's Panchi?

So I was walking home from school a couple of weeks ago and ran into my roommate, Megan. We chatted and Megan said to me "Hey, Loles" (our madre) "bought a new fish...and a pet bird." For any normal person, this wouldn't be a big deal. But I hate birds. I'm really rather afraid of them. They're so twitchy and I hate the noise their wings make when they flap them frantically. It makes me very nervous. So really, this was like a nightmare come true for me. I acted excited when I got home and Loles showed me the new pet, although I was sort of grossed out. AND THEN she told me that she wanted him to become accustomed to sitting on her finger and FLYING AROUND THE LIVING ROOM. Basically, my worst nightmare came true.

College has taught me how to deal with my surroundings, so I've just been avoiding the living room for the most part. I occasionally say "Hi Panchi" and that's that. Today, however, I came home and Loles was sitting with the door wide open in the living room. She asked me if I knew where Panchi was. I most certainly did not know where Panchi was. I'm always very careful to keep all the doors to the living room closed so that a tiny green bird doesn't show up under my covers when I pull them back at night. So this nightmare got even worse.

Although, never fear, Panchi has been found! Loles' boyfriend found him sitting in the vines next to his cage. Although I believe the doors to the living room are still open, so Panchi could escape at any moment. Yikes!

Judys in Italy 5 O'clock Meal

What do you do when you're in Italy with your girlfriends and you haven't had lunch, but it's not really dinner time? You have a "Judy's in Italy 5 o'clock meal," of course. I visited Beth in Milan last weekend and so did her sister/my friend, Grace who is studying in London. Lucky for us, Beth has an apartment in Milan and enough space for all of us to sleep there so we saved some money...although I did get totally ripped off on my cab fare...twice. Ahh, well, when in Italy (and you don't speak Italian), suck it up and deal with it.

Beth is really the hostess with the mostest. She made us some fabulous food (brie and crackers with apple, gnocci with herb-cheese-mayo topped bread, tortellini, kiwi, potato soup) and we did what us girls do best. We Skyped with Laura back home, watched the Fashion channel, talked, explored. I arrived late Thursday night, having only slept one hour the previous night, and Gracie was already there. We slept in the next day and when I woke up, I couldn't tell what time of the day it was. Beth had closed the shutters, so I thought it could have been either

very, very early in the morning, or the afternoon, for all I knew. So I checked the time on my iPod. 5:45am. I was pretty sure that was the time in Michigan, but I really wasn't sure. So I checked my cell phone. 11:45am. But I wasn't sure if that was the time in Spain or in Italy (turns out they're the same time zone). As it turned out, we slept all morning and it felt great, if not a little bit like the Twilight Zone. It rained hard all day, so we only ventured out for a trip to the grocery store for sustenance. Basically, it was a perfect and much needed day relaxing with friendly faces.

Saturday we enjoyed the perfect weather by eating gelato (5 in total for the weekend) and walking to Duomo, the Galleria to stomp the bulls balls, and through the big park. Sounds like pretty average, tranquil day, right? Wrong. It happened to be Carnivale so little kids in costumes throwing confetti and silly string had taken over the plaza in front of Duomo. There was confetti EVERYWHERE. Stomping the bulls balls sounds a lot harsher than it is, in reality. Its a tile bull in the floor of the Galleria and people stomp on the bulls balls for good luck. There's a big indent in the ground where everybody stomps. There was a fair going on, too, so Beth bought some cotton candy and we went down the giant slide. I guess I would have expected a fair in Italy to be different than in the

US, but it's really much the same. There are rides, junk food, games, giant stuffed animals to win. I guess the main difference is that people yell "step right up- a winner every time!" in Italian.

When I returned to Valencia, a lot of people asked me if I liked Milan. Well, sure, I liked Milan like I like all cities. Mainly, I really liked my friends who were in the city. I mean, really, Milan is a big city. People don't really speak English, but you can get by pretty well by pointing and nodding. There is much more history in the architecture and such, but it

didn't feel so drastically different and fantastic than any other city I've been to. My I'm just completely desensitized because I've been dealing with cultural difference nonstop for the past however many weeks. There is one more thing I really ought to say about Milan, though, and this is very important, so listen very carefully. Everybody in Milan is FABULOUS.

We did do one very Italian thing. Aperitivo. You go to a bar-type place and order a drink. Yes, I said a drink. Just one because that's really all you need. It was the most massive drink I have EVER seen. Then you get to eat from a buffet of appetizers. It seems like such an American idea to me. Pay a small amount of money, eat from a huge buffet. The Italians, do it with so much class.

More photos...

Tid Bits

I feel as though I have very little to post. I've started settling in here and I'm becoming more accustomed to things, but I'm going to fill you guys in on some little things.

Parking here is quite the adventure. I don't know if it's a Spain thing, or a Valencia thing, or just a city thing in general, but here's how it works...

If there's a parking spot along the street, you park there. If there's not, you park someone in. Sounds like hell, right? I'm pretty sure that would NEVER fly in the US. But here's how they do it. When you need to leave and you're parked in, you just honk your horn like mad crazy until the other person comes out to move their car. OR that person has left their car in neutral so that you can just push it aside.

Did I mention yet that there are dogs everywhere? Well here it is. There are dogs everywhere. I think 85% of Valencia has a pet dog (I made up that statistic, but it's probably pretty close). The dogs are everywhere and so is their poop. It's all over the sidewalks, especially in the evening (because that's when people walk their dogs), so if you make a trip to España, watch your step.

Yesterday while I was walking home from class, waiting for the light to change at the crosswalk, a woman asked me a question. I told her I didn't know the answer, but then I realized what she asked me (how to get to the Ayora metro station) and I realized that I knew the answer! So I told her how to get there and she really seemed to understand me!

Just a few things y'all should know.