Mi cumple y algunas noticias muy emocionantes/mon anniversaire et des nouvelles très sensationnelles!!!!!!!!!!!

With Mary Kathryn, Fran and Molly on Birthday Night #2

Enjoying our day off of Lent

As many of you know, last Tuesday, the 24th, was my 21st birthday, so I thought I would write about the week of festivities. Obviously, turning 21 in Spain means actually nothing in terms of alcohol consumption, but it was still exciting for me to finally be “legal” (more on that later!). When I woke up on Tuesday morning, it felt just like any other day (especially since I had a 9am class to get up for!). As I sat at the kitchen table, munching on my usual breakfast of Fibre Flakes (which are actually surprisingly good!), I found a flurry of birthday messages and Facebook wall post notifications, and I must say, it was nice to get all of that attention that day! I opened my little cache of gifts and cards: a Mamma Mia! DVD and iTunes gift card from my parents, a pair of earrings and a bracelet from my grandparents, and cards from a few friends (in addition to some eCards from friends and family- a sure sign that we live in a digitized age!). I actually have a funny anecdote about the Mamma Mia! DVD: my mom sent me a package that got here a few weeks ago, and inside was a wrapped box, obviously a birthday present. After I had removed all of the items from my package, I felt like I was missing something, so I looked on the customs form to see if she had forgotten to send something. Well, she had, in fact, remembered those things, and she had also written “Mamma Mia! DVD” on the form. So I knew what I had gotten for my birthday! When I talked to my mom on my birthday, I asked her if she had consciously revealed my gift on the form, and she said, “Oh, oops…” Also, given my mother’s disgust each time I buy a new DVD, I asked her. “Did you get me that DVD because you wanted to see it again?” (because it was the last mommy-daughter trip to the movies we had), and she answered, “Um, YEAH!” . It was pretty funny.

In addition to the gifts and card they had already sent me, my parents worked very hard on a birthday email the night before with cheery, multicolored text, so I would have something nice to wake up to on their birthday morning. My dad also sent me an email, as he does every morning, telling me how he could still remember the day I was born at Alexandria Hospital. I’m pretty sure my mom remembers it too: delivering a 10lb6oz, 2 foot-long baby isn’t something that you forget easily (and no, you didn’t read that wrong!). I also got birthday messages in a couple of unexpected places: I had a “Happy Birthday from the Facebook team” message on my homepage when I logged in; and as I swiped my card at the gym, a message reading “¡Feliz cumple!” flashed across the screen (another reason why my gym is awesome!). And of course, the second I saw Molly that morning so we could walk over to class together, she let out an all-too-familiar exuberant exclamation of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!” It was like having my own personal birthday cheerleader all day ☺

During our break in classes, while Molly skyped with her mom, I did something that I didn’t know how much I had been looking forward to until I was actually in the midst of it: I picked out my classes for next semester. At Georgetown!!!!!!!!!!!! I have never been so excited for preregistration in my life! And I have never been more appreciative of the ease of the process back on the Hilltop! Aside from the fact that I was excited to be picking classes in English (and also actually knowing what my classes are going to be before actually arriving back on campus!), it was actually a really emotional moment for me, because it means that I’m so close to going back to the school I love so much, the friends I love and miss so much, and the family I love more than life itself. Call me sappy, but it was a big deal for me. And when I talked to Kate, my only other close friend who has been abroad for the whole year, about it, she shared my sentiment of overwhelming joy at the Georgetown preregistration process. It’s going to be an incredible year, I can tell already!

Also during the break, Molly and I went to Croissantería París (affectionately called Franceland), our favorite bakery in Salamanca. And yes, I am aware of the irony in the fact that I seldom had pastries when I was actually in France, but now can’t live without my French-style pastries. Molly and I gave up sweets for Lent, which I know I’ve mentioned, but we had previously designated my birthday and one day while we’re in London (so we can do high tea and go to the ice cream bar in Harrods) as sugar binge days. So we walked through the hallowed door of Franceland and got our one pastry each, savoring each and every bite. One pastry is not a sugar binge, you may be thinking, but wait, there’s more! A few hours later, as we were heading home for lunch, we stopped at Franceland again, this time to pick up a cake, which we had decided we would eat in the Plaza after dinner. Well, let’s just say that they made my particular cake with only me in mind. It was chocolate, and had berries on top (not to mention no nuts!). Pure perfection!!! Molly, Mary Kathryn and I polished off that cake with no trouble at all after going to an Italian restaurant for dinner. That cake probably could have served 8 people. But hey, what better time to live a little than on your 21st birthday?!?

I made the wise decision to skip my one afternoon class (seeing as three other Georgetown girls are in the class and I will have no trouble getting notes), something I would NEVER do at Georgetown. Spain, look at what you’ve done to me! But I must say that I was not at all repentant for my academic sin, enjoying a nice workout, and then, after a long, leisurely shower, setting into my bed to watch the latest episodes of The Office and Gossip Girl. It was a pretty incredible day.
What the hell?, you may be asking yourself. What kind of 21st birthday is that? Aren’t you supposed to drink so much that you throw up everything you’ve ever eaten? Hold on, I’m not quite done with my tales of birthday revelry. Friday night was designated as the “real” celebration night, and a group of us met up in the Plaza, ready to bar-hop. And bar-hop we did. Let’s just say that, by the end of the night, I had had: a beer, a glass of sangria, 5 shots of Bailey’s, 2 of tequila and lime, 1 of straight whiskey, 1 of bourbon, and one Sex on the Beach (which Mary Kathryn and Molly, the last two left standing with me, helped me out with). That is, without contest, the drunkest I have ever been in my life, and, in fact, Molly said that she was drunker that night than she had been on her own 21st birthday (although there WERE extenuating circumstances on her birthday, because it was the same day of the outbreak of Norovirus on the Hilltop). We went to a restaurant and, while I plopped myself down drunkenly in a chair, Molly and Mary Kathryn bought me a tortilla sandwich. I literally took two halfhearted bites of my sandwich and then felt my hand go limp. I dropped the sandwich back on the plate and rushed back to the bathroom, saying that I was going to be sick. Let’s just say I was very sick, and Molly, trouper that she is, held my hair back (she pointed out on Sunday that she was excited to be able to say that she got to have the experience of holding a friend’s hair back at least once in her college career).

I was mortified (or as mortified as you can be when you are totally out of it) as we walked down the street, Molly and Mary Kathryn on either side of me, holding me up completely. I was that drunken American. However, there was one fundamental difference. Unlike many Americans, who get obnoxiously loud the drunker they get, I just get more tired and more disoriented. So it’s not that I’m a nuisance to anyone or anything. I just felt foolish, as if what little dignity that I had left after that night had been taken away from me, because I couldn’t even walk home without the firm grip of my friends steadying me. Thank goodness for friends.

I thought I was feeling a little bit better when I got home, but quickly got sick again. I quickly washed my face, and attempted to wash off the drawings Molly made on my arm, the interactive roadmap of what kinds of drinks I had, plus a few other drawings. I realized, later in the day on Saturday, that I had forgotten that Molly had also drawn an I ♥ MOM tattoo on one arm and an anchor on the other. Those were promptly washed off once I remembered their presence. My one priority, other than washing my face, was taking my contacts out, so I actually stood a chance of being able to open my eyes in the morning (so see, I clearly was thinking rationally to some extent!), and quickly threw on some pajamas. According to Molly, it was probably about 2:30 by the time I got home. So why in the world was I up the next morning at 9? Oh, that would be because I can never sleep late after I drink. While some people sleep off what they’ve drunk, I wake up and have to face it. And since that was the drunkest I had ever been, it was also my first hangover, not an experience I would recommend (because I was still feeling it on Sunday- yes, Sunday- night). The second I opened my eyes, I felt nauseous, and I had a killer headache. This was God’s way of punishing me, clearly: a headache and moderate-to-strong sensation of nausea for the rest of my life! Let’s just say I moved very slowly. Splashing some cold water on my face made me feel a little bit better, and I munched queasily on a granola bar so I could take Advil for my headache (after hundreds of warnings from my mom to never take it on an empty stomach, I was not really in a mood to see what would happen otherwise). I got back into bed, waiting for the medicine to take its effect, and attempted to read my latest Jodi Picoult novel (which, with all of my downtime this weekend, I finished, no problem, by lunchtime on Sunday). Bad idea. That made the headache worse. So, thinking that it could also be a bad idea, I popped Mamma Mia! into my computer, hoping that all of the bright colors and catchy music wouldn’t make my head spin even more. It actually turned out to be a nice distraction, and gave the meds time to start working.

Noelia, who was home for the weekend, called me in to lunch at 2:30, and when I looked on the table, I let out an internal groan. There was a cold vegetable salad with mayonnaise dressing. Mayonnaise. Perfect for my crying stomach. I took a few tiny bites and then pushed it away. And for the rest of the day, even the thought of the words “Bailey’s” or “whiskey” was enough to make my stomach churn and my hand fly over my mouth. So you can imagine that drinking ever again doesn’t sound too attractive at this point. But, after being reminded by my dad of the “don’t drink hard liquor after beer” rule, I feel like it can’t get much worse.

I realized, on Saturday, that, as painful an experience as the previous night had been, it did give me an interesting anecdote to tell. It turns out that drunkenness is the tie that binds. My parents just shook their heads and laughed, and my dad proceeded to tell me (probably for about the 10th time) about his bachelor party, where his ridiculous friends made him take shot after shot, while taking “shots” of water along with him. So he was absolutely sloshed, and they were still stone-cold sober. I believe the story also includes him sitting in the flatbed of one of his friends’ pickup trucks while they drove around D.C. trying to sober him up. What fantastic friends. That must have been a fun ride.

With all of that Friday-centered excitement, what other exciting things could possibly have happened? Well, on Sunday morning, we finally went to the market, the rastro, and I have to say, I was nonplussed. The grand majority of the stuff was complete junk- I was not tempted to buy a single thing (fooling myself into thinking that perhaps I don’t have a shopping problem! Although, with the exchange rate as bad as it is and the stark realization that I will have no money when I get home, shopping has sort of been placed on the back burner this year). Also, it was FREEZING!!!!!! The temperature decided, sometime in between when I stumbled back home after Friday night’s festivities and woke up on Saturday morning, that it was going to dip into the low-to-mid 40s again (weather that we haven’t had since probably the first week of March!). So we all thought we were going to die. I crawled right back into bed when I got home, and by the time I went out again a few hours later to go to a café, my fingers and toes were STILL freezing!
Also, we (Molly, Mary Kathryn and I) are heading to LONDONNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! on Friday! We’re spending the first leg of our spring break in Londontown, where we’re staying with Molly’s prodigal cousin, Beth, and are meeting up with Molly and MK’s friend from home, Jennifer (she’s studying at Sciences Po with Allie); then we’ll be moving on to Ireland. I have been beyond excited for this trip since the second we booked it in January (the first trip I booked this semester!), so I know this week of class is going to be excruciatingly long. But the gold at the end of the rainbow is so exciting that I can’t be too down in the dumps! If anyone has any suggestions of fun things to do in London and/or Cork, Killarney and Dublin, Ireland, feel free to let me know, and we’ll write them down in our Moleskines!!!!

I hope all is well with all of you!!!!! Thank you for all of the birthday wishes, and I’m sending all of you my love,

Kristen

P.S. As a very special last-minute addendum to this post, I wanted to tell you all how proud of a big sister I am (I’m always proud, but today especially so!), because last night, TIM GOT IN TO GEORGETOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We have been waiting for days to hear, thinking that the letter could come any day, but my parents called me very early this morning for the letter-opening moment and I got to hear the reaction live when he got in! He said he was shaking like a leaf- Georgetown will do that to you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was such a special moment, and, while I’m sad I didn’t get to be there in person, it gives me yet another reason to look forward to getting back to Georgetown next year!!!!!! (assuming Tim chooses Georgetown in the end, which I think will be the case, even though our parents want him to go through the motions of revisit days and whatnot). HOYA SAXA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!