Well, in that case....

I went into this little grocery store today to buy a snack. I picked out a bag of cracker-y type things that were very clearly labeled 0.75 € (that's 0,75 € in European). The guy at the counter was from the Indian subcontinent. He asked me "¿Eres española?" (Are you Spanish?) I said "No, soy Americana." (No, I'm American.) He smiled and said "Fifty cents." I'm not sure what that was all about.

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The world is not out to get me. The world isn't out to get anyone, because the world doesn't have intentions, it just is. And even if it did have intentions, I'm sure it would have better things to do than be out to get me. But still. I had three sets of plans for today/tonight fall through. When that happens and you're left with nothing to do on a Saturday night in a foreign country where you've now lived for a while, it makes you dejected. Sigh.

...I'm writing this at a cafe and they just started playing Sweet Caroline. (Clearly not the hippest place in Barcelona, but it's smoke-free and it's not Starbucks.) And I CAN'T STOP SMILING. (I tend not to stay dejected for long.) I want to sing along. I am such a dork.

[Maybe some explaining about the blog is in order. I usually write it in a notebook and then post what I've written the next day. Maybe that was obvious, I dunno. Anyway, that's why you're reading about Saturday night on Sunday at the earliest. I don't have internet at home so if I write at night I can't post it until the next day. And the romance of writing (even if it's just a self-absorbed weblog) feels much more authentic when it's done hunched over a tiny notebook in a crowded cafe. I'm a sucker for shit like that.]