False Evidence Appearing Real

So I promised you some juice last post and I've got more than Barry, Marion, and Floyd combined. You wanted to know about my roommates? I share a place with 3 guys: one French (wife/2 kids whom he visits every weekend), one Malaysian (also married) and one Dutch (decidedly single). The French guy goes to my school, the Malaysian to another one, and the Dutch guy to one that I've never heard of cos I thought Barcelona only had 2 B-schools. The last guy, he is what you would conventionally call the best looking of the group but with a soupcon of sleeze. Case in point: He parties it up because he's on break and I'm up when he comes home because I'm still jet lagged. He brought a girl home the other night and remember how I told you I could hear everything? Well, I heard. Every. Little. Thing. I suppose I could have put a pillow over my head but I wasn't going to bed until 9am anyway so I figured I might as well be entertained. But the best part is that afterwards they had some sort of discussion that my salacious mind swears ended with him kicking her out of the apartment against her will.

But I've also been doing things other than listening to my roommate have sex. I woke up while the sun was still out on Friday and it's amazing what that can do for your spirits. I walked to La Pedrera and, that night, invited myself to dinner with my Malaysian roommate. We ended up meeting a big group of first years from my business school at a Malaysian restaurant that was surprisingly good considering that the chef was English (the waiter was Filipino). We went to this cute gothic-style wine bar afterwards and although B-school is a sausagefest, the ratio here seems to be more 1:4 compared to the 1:3 in the States. And since none of the girls wanted to talk to me, I chatted with the guys including one who was wearing a Female Body Inspector shirt. I guess he could kinda get away with it since he was foreign but not really considering that he was lamenting the fact that he hadn't inspected any female bodies since arriving in Barcelona.

This brings me in a rather circuitous route to today's topic (a Buseyism). Fear makes us act weird sometimes. I feared never learning Spanish, never meeting people, and being the one person who doesn't like Barcelona. So it stands to reason that instead of forcing myself to get over the jet lag and get outside during the day, I let myself sleep during the day and didn't even try to speak Catalan. It doesn't matter if I never hang out with those people ever again because it was good to get over my fears and have F-U-N. On a happier note, I briefly went to a school event Saturday night at a bar and started a class today (6 hours a day for the week, ugh!). This school is so much nicer than MSB. It's new and modern and has a small cafeteria--everything MSB is not and does not have. I also went to bed at a reasonable hour last night since I had class today. I went to the pharmacy and was so desperate about my lack of sleep that the pharmacist told me he was going to give me valerian but gave me unisom instead.

You don't have to say what your fears are but I think it's good to acknowledge them to recognize how unreal they are. Hopefully, I will be friendly enough with people to go out on the weekends and that's all I ask for. And I also hope that you guys realize how great you are.