Moroccan Jesus

I love this caption my friend David put under a picture he took in Morocco:

"we're eating bread, honey, and some morrocan tea.I feel like thats a typical meal for jesus or sumthin."

Get on with it!

This conversation recently occured when Dante was playing on the armchair and we were sitting to eat dinner...(translation below)
Dante: *crying* Quiero pinones! Damelos por favor?
Rocio: Vale.
Dante: *still crying* Pues, venga, vamos!


Dante: *crying* I want pinenuts! Will you give them to me please?
Rocio: okay. (continues dishing out her bowl of soup)
Dante: *still crying* Well, alright already, let's get on with it!

Chin Chat

Carly, Sarah, and I were a little slaphappy when on our trip in Granada a couple months back.

(On the trip) Allie fell ill and Morgen had to accompany her all day in the hospital. When Morgen got back, tired and feeling sick herself, we guaranteed her that this would cheer her up, and it did.

Multi-use items

Carly just posted the following on my facebook wall. Prior knowledge needed to understand:
This week there are a ton of processions for Easter week.
Her host mom tapes notes on her door with bandaids.




A) I just looked out my window and there is a large crowd which means there is going to be another f-ing parade.

B) If I die within the next few days of heart complications or clogged arteries don't be surprised, I discovered that my host mom rarely cooks with olive oil--vegetable is her oil of choice, olive ...oil is just to add after the food has been in a hot tub of oil.

Oh wait, there is one more thing...

C) I discovered that my host mom likes to make use out of more household items than just bandaids, she uses feminine pads as cushioning for her shoes. HahahHHHHHaaaa

A love/hate letter to Lola, my host family's dog.

Dear Lola (my host family's dog),

I had high hopes for you. I really did.

At first I was disappointed that you simply existed when I found out my host family assignment. I didn't want to live with a dog! My friends said I would like you better than the 2 year old. I was doubtful of that claim. I knew that I would love the child more than you.

However, you didn't seem that bad at all. You made strange grunting noises when you breathed, but it was just plain funny. You were a little annoying when I would come home from school and you'd scratch at my brand new gray leather boots. But you made up for this typical dog behavior when I would leave again, and you would stand in the doorway, nearly getting your head stuck in the door because you didn't want to see me go. You even followed me around the house, and got so excited when I said your name.

Of all the dogs I have met in my life (and subsequently hated) you didn't do what they did. You never put your paws on my legs when I was sitting (you were too short, and too fat) and you never ate or chewed any of my personal belongings (yeah, I still remember that dog that chewed my 8th grade yearbook. To that dog: you've made my list). You never barked (except for the rare occasion there was something on TV that you didn't like). You never drooled. All you ever wanted to do was sit in the same room as me and sit on a blanket or piece of cardboard or Dante's counting mat to protect your butt from the cold marble floor as you looked like a cross between a person bobbing to sleep on a bus and a dog who's face was melting as you dozed off.

That's all you wanted to do. Follow me around the house, or sleep. It didn't matter where you slept, but it had to be somewhat warm. Warm, like the Alicante sun on a Sunday afternoon.



When I was in my room and you were on the patio, the sound of me rustling things around would draw you to my windowsill, where you would sit until you saw my acknowledgment.



Even your creepiness was charming, when at night I would go to my room at the end of the hall and you would stand in the hallway, the dim light outlining your silhouette as you watched me retreat to my room for the night and shut the door.




I loved you for all the times I would exit the bathroom into the dark hallway and get jolted out of my skin when you were lurking in the shadows, growling, or as you like to call it, breathing.



You had so many charms, and I had high hopes for you. That is until today, when you threw up on the living room floor.

Can you repeat that?

Rocio and Carlos were telling me how their parents would mispronounce old movie actors from back in the day, and it was pretty funny...

John Wayne---Yon WHY-nay
Cary Grant---Cahr-ee Grahnt
Gary Cooper---Gah-ree Cop-poor
Humphrey Bogart--HOOMP-hay-ray BO-gurt

DANTE TIME!

Some great Dante moments as of late:

I had my backpack on the floor in the corner of the family room the other day when Dante saw my cell phone sitting on top. He wobbled over to it and saw me watching him, then picked up the phone, rotated it 90 degrees, then set it back down again. I have noticed this is his behavior all the time with my phone: he either picks it up and rotates it, or he picks it up and moves it 3 inches then sets it down again. I have no clue why.


At lunch the other day...
Dante: Quiero agua. (I want water)
Rocio: Si. (she pours him water)
Dante: Quiero jamon (i want ham)
R: (passes him the ham)
D: Quiero mas comida. (I want more food)
R: (she puts more food on his plate)
D: Quiero...cerveza (I want beer)
R: No, no no no...es la cerveza de mama.(No, it's mom's beer)
D: quiero cerveza! (I want beer!)
R: Toma mas agua. (here, take some more water.)


After lunch the other day, Rocio was enjoying a cup of coffee. The sugar bowl was on the table, which Dante spotted and immediately he requested: "Quiero azucar!" Rocio laughed and made a face like "like hell you are eating a spoonful of raw sugar," as she moved the sugar bowl to the other side of the table. Rocio and I were chatting about something, and Dante was playing with his toy cars. He stared at us talking, then did a lap around the table and said "Mama aqui, y Melissa aqui (mom here, and Melissa here) pointing to our seats in which we sat, respectively. Rocio responded with a "si." Then, as she turned to continue our chat, Dante (who had planned this sneak attack all along) started going for the sugar bowl. Rocio spotted it and took the sugar as he was an inch away from obtaining it.


Dante was coloring on some paper with his markers when he picked up the yellow one, took the cap off, then held it with both hands, perfectly straight up in front of his face. He slowly approached Rocio, repeating "Look! Look!" She was like "Yes, I see, the pretty yellow!" Then he was about 5 inches from her face when she realized he was coming so close in order to draw on her face. She laughed and grabbed the marker, saying he couldn't draw on her like they do in school (they have had a body painting unit the past couple weeks). After he cried a bit and after she explained that she wasn't mad at him, she rolled up her sleeves and let him draw on her.
Dante: (eyes wide, with an inquiring face) Te pinto? (can I draw on you?)
Rocio: Si, carino. (Yes, honey.)
He then proceeded to take full advantage of the opportunity, going to town with the green marker all over her forearms.


When it was time for dinner the other day, I found Dante five inches away from the TV, pressing the eject button on the DVD player and watching the tray slide in and out, over and over again. I grabbed his hands to lead him to the dinner table, and he said "NO!" and slowly laid down on the floor with his knees bent. He then used his heels to push him backwards, sliding on the floor on his back.


During lunch today, Dante's food was hot and his dad instructed him to blow on it. He would do these short bursts of air, almost near hyperventilation, until it was cool enough to eat.


I found his little ball-popper toy in the hallway on the floor, so I picked it up. Dante was walking towards the dining room, so I took the popper and rolled it towards him, kind of chasing him. He kept looking behind himself at the toy, grinning at whatever game we were playing. I chased him around the 3 foot diameter coffee table about 20 times before I had to stop because I was getting really dizzy. He LOVED it.



After I came home from my cooking class, Dante was eating dinner in the kitchen: tiny noodle stars with butter or something. They were all over his face, some noodle stars even were under his eye, or near his temple. I love how he eats so haphazardly. Later, when he got up, there were some noodles stuck to his pants behind his right ankle.


Rocio, who was out for the night, called Carlos on his phone. Carlos handed it to Dante, who picked it up and had the following conversation:
Dante: Ma-MA!
Rocio (you can hear her on the other end) Si, Carino (yes honey)
Dante: ma-MA!
Rocio: Si, carino.
D: Ma-MA!
R: Si, carino, que quieres (what do you want)
D: Ma-MA! (he then took the phone off his ear, brought it to the front of his face, and yelled MAMA into the receiver five or six more times until Carlos took it back)


After his dinner, Dante followed me to my room, where he grabbed his favorite thing: my house keys. He sat there playing with them for a while, until he suddenly looked at me and asked ...
Dante: Tienes hambre? Has comido? Quieres comer? (Are you hungry? did you eat? Want to eat?)
Me: No, he comido en la clase de cocina. He hecho la comida. (No, I ate in cooking class. I cooked the meal)
Dante: Has...has...has hecho la comida? (Did you, did you, did you make the food?)
Me: Si, he hecho la comida. (yes, I made the food)
Dante: Has hecho la comida? (you made the food?)
Me: Si, he hecho la comida. (yes, I made the food)
I love when Dante acts like the host of the household.


While in the kitchen, Dante took his empty cup and held it up to his mouth and shouted into it "MELISSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAA" and kept doing so until I responded with a deep "DANTEEEEE", to which he responded with a grin and a squealing giggle.


He had one of those party blowers that makes noise and unfurls a piece of paper, and he just honked and honked in the kitchen, scaring the crap out of Lola, who was frantically looking for an escape.


Once he was done with the party noisemaker, he told Lola he just wanted to give her a kiss. He got on his hands and knees and tried to catch Lola so he could kiss her. Traumatized by the previous noise, she was running in circles around him. Dante tried to crawl and catch up to her but was way too slow. He at one point grabbed her tail while she wailed in pain, but she wriggled free. The best part is that the kitchen is about 12 by 5 feet wide, so this was all happening in a fairly tiny space. He started getting upset, repeatedly saying "I JUST WANT TO KISS YOU, LOLA!" I was dying of laughter. Finally, Carlos yelled at Lola to sit. Lola, hesitant and fearful, stood still, then warily sat down. Dante leaped onto her, grabbing her body and kissing her side. Lola wriggled free once again, leaving Dante to fall over.


Finally, after playing (and by playing I mean "picking up various objects and moving them around the room) in my room, Carlos came in to tell him it was time for bed. I have never seen Dante get so upset to part with me! He started crying and saying how he didn't want to say "hasta manana" (until tomorrow) to me, and he wanted to keep playing.

Today was a good day.

Pun intended?

One day I will get a picture of this, since the bus passes it on the way home from my internship...


Today I saw a place called "Cafe FEVER." Right above it was a doctor's office. I guess it's a precaution against those who get too much cafe fever.