Я не говорю по-русски

I have this Russian friend here. She's great. I like Russians and I like friends, so it's pretty much a win-win situation. There's just one slight catch. She thinks I speak Russian. I can't seem to disabuse her of this notion, even though I clearly can't form sentences or express even the most basic thoughts when I try to speak Russian. I've been accused of speaking Spanish better than I give myself credit for, and maybe there's a little bit of truth to that. When I say I don't speak Spanish, I mean I don't speak Spanish very well. But trust me, I DON'T SPEAK RUSSIAN. Unless the conversation is about my name, where I live, the fact that I like beer and don't really like vodka, the numbers 1-10, the location of my luggage (and that's only if the luggage is "here," not anywhere else), hello, good-bye, buying tickets, the hot water not working, or the fact that I don't speak Russian very well (the most useless phrase ever), I'm toast. And numbers don't make for good conversation. I recently had a Spanish language exchange that went horribly wrong and deteriorated into counting (not my idea); it wasn't pretty. I do have my Russian language textbook here in Barcelona--my friend who helped me pack thought I was insane for bringing it with me, but maybe it will come in handy. I really would like to learn Russian, but I really need to learn Spanish. So I'm tempted to try and learn both, but fear I'll end up learning neither.

Speaking of things Russian, there's this shot that seems to be popular here called Russian Cocaine. You make a little sandwich out of lemon slices, sugar, and ground espresso beans; put it in your mouth; do a shot of vodka. Not my first choice of cocktail, but it does wake you up.