Elevators are not for students

Christy and I had this great idea. It was so great. We got in the elevator, and went to the top floor. We were gonna race. She, being the one who didn't want to exert much energy decided to stay the route of the elevator, I, was going to run. I waited until the door finally shut all the way, and I took off running. Down one flight, down the second, holy cow...the fast I ran, the less accurate my steps had become. Down the third, down the fourth...How the HECK did she beat me!? I was haulin' butt to get down those stairs! Whatever. She won.

We got to class the next day, only to be lectured about elevators being designated solely for professors. Whoops. We just looked at each other and laughed. Maybe the class didn't know why our professor was so upset...but we could take a good guess.

Oh, I got my first letter from home! A big shout out to Aunt Linda!!! You have no idea how that made my day!!! My second came today. Thanks Momma! :)

P.s. I get really ticked off when kids show up...I don't know, let's say thirty minutes late to class. They walk in, either laughing, smiling, or loud. Right in front of the teacher, too. So disrepectful. Just sit down and stop being so rude already.

Oh, and another cool thing...the way the say stuff like wow or my goodness is actually "madre mi" which means "my mother." Weird.

One more thing, when we were in Salamanca the other week, I forgot that I took a picture of Queen Isabel for my Dad. Ever since the seventh grade, everyday I would come home - straight after Spanish class - and say "Hola Padre" to my Dad. "Hello Dad." His response was always the same "Hola Isabel." When he was studying Spanish as a boy, their Spanish books always had their practice dialogue start with phrases or greetings by stating that exact same thing. So, he calls me Isabel. :) I took this picture for him.


ISABEL Y FERNANDO