Just a Little Hump Day Treat

I know its only 12:25 am my time, hardly "hump day" but, technically, the new day has already started. So just bear with me on the title. And, while it's fresh on my mind, I would like to acknowledge the inner debate that just occurred in my head as I went back-and-forth trying to figure if "bear" or "bare" was the correct word for the above phrase. It was painful. Anyway, I will continue about how my past week has been.
After returning from Brussels, I have to say, it was very difficult getting back into "role-model" mode. Not like I was gone for a very long time, but still, it's just as coming back to any job is quite difficult to do after a lovely vacation. Despite feeling lazy and fighting the urge to just crawl into bed and wish I was vacationing again, I have been relatively productive lately. I don't think I have mentioned before, but I have a friend in Vitoria-Gasteiz, and I feel like shouting it from the roof tops!! I am just so excited about it. Furthermore, SHE'S AMERICAN. And let me tell you-- there is nothing as refreshing as the good ol' American accent when you have been among broken English for 3 months. Not that there's anything wrong with broken English. Actually, it's really attractive, and sometimes sexy (depending on the circumstance). However, I have created this mental radar. I can be on a different planet spacing out while going on a walk, or having a coffee, not listening to the murmurs of Castellano, but as soon as I hear English, more specifically American English, I freaking perk up like a meerkat out of his little tunnel. My radar is super powerful and strong. And then of course I feel the need to say something in English, just so the other fellow English speakers will know they are not alone. Most of the time, it's just a friendly, "hello!" with a nod though. But, I have an American friend nonetheless. Her name is Melanie and we hang out almost every day. Our schedules are very similar, allowing us to spend our weeks pay on coffee instead of saving for future trips. Sad, I know. But, walking around the old city can only entertain one for so long.
I also made friends with a bartender. Okay, yes I know that sounds sketchy. But I wasn't at the bar at night, and I only go in there for coffee. Patxi makes a mean cup of joe. And on top of that, he forces me to talk in Spanish. Yeah, that's a laugh. Pero, necesito practicar mucho y Patxi ayudame! (Please, Spanish speaking friends, don't make me look bad and correct my grammar on here. Just pretend it's correct and carry on with yourselves. I'll get there!)
Speaking of horrible Spanish, I started my Spanish classes yesterday! I am definitely the youngest person in my class. The second youngest is this woman from Latvia, and she's 28. She seems nice, but dang, she likes to talk. While I'm trying to listen to la profesora, Latvia girl is trying to have a full on conversation about how she lived in Atlanta once. I appreciate her being friendly, and I understand that she's probably trying to make friends, but come on! I'm trying to learn.
Secondly, everyone in my class speaks fluent, or almost fluent Spanish. I'm in the beginners level class. Don't ask me why. I'm still perturbed by this too.
In addition, Latvia and I are the only light skinned people in the class. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But allow me to explain the situation a bit more:
Today, we had to go around the room and say our names and where we were from, what we were doing, etc, etc. I was the fifth person to introduce myself. I stood up, smiled, said hello and told everyone "Hola! Me llamo Sydney. Soy una niñera para dos niños y soy de Estados Unidos!" I felt dagger eyes from more than half of the people in my class. Hold on, I'm getting to the point. The next 6 people, in a row, to introduce themselves were all from Pakistan. I know our relationship with Pakistan isn't the greatest thing in the world right now, and I also understand that many do not like the United States. To make matters worse, after introductions, I was chosen to try to name as many people in the class as I could. I could remember everyone's name, except for the Pakistan people. Not because I didn't listen. It's just all of their names were really difficult to understand or pronounce and I just felt so bad. I thought "great! now they REALLY hate America and it's all my fault because I didn't remember any of their names."
Lastly, I am using my time wisely and applying for scholarships and schools again! As a matter of fact, I just submitted my first application to Champlain College tonight! I'm pretty excited about it. And working on essays all the time makes me feel all professional on my laptop. I love it.

I know I just said "lastly" on the above paragraph, but I must inform you all of one more unfortunate even that took place in my life. I dyed my hair last night, as some of you may have seen on Instagram. I bought the dye and the color looked like a very nice dark brown--perfect for winter. Well, I didn't dry my hair before going to sleep last night, and so I never really got to see the end results. Long story short, it has been a tragic day. My hair is in fact NOT dark brown, but black. My hair is ebony. This is not a joke. And to make matters worse, I finished the dye last night, but did the really awesome thing where I missed pieces of hair. So it's just all really awkward. I'm not sure why I decided to share this information publicly. Maybe just as a forewarning that if you see any pictures of me and my hair in the future (it will be fixed. Fixed as in all the same, ebony color) please no snarky remarks. This is the most trauma my hair has ever received, and we are in a state of shock. I would post a picture to make everyone giggle a little, but I'm not feeling that generous right now.

I apologize for not having any pictures to post this time around. But it's late and I must bid everyone goodnight.

Missing everyone dearly.
XX