I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be.

It's raining. Welcome to a Bilbao winter. This morning, I pegged my jeans before walking to school. (It hasn't stopped raining since yesterday morning, fyi.) And when I got to school, my feet were soaking wet because I'd stepped in a few too many rivers. I used an umbrella and everything but I'm still pretty wet. And I don't like it, not one bit.
"I think fish is nice, but then I think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge?"
-Douglas Adams

"This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays. "
-Douglas Adams

Yeah, that's how I feel. Plus, Thursday is the end of my school week.

Okay, so I'm now convinced that Spanish children are spoiled rotten. Gabi and Dani scream and cry to get out of everything. And when their dad tries to punish them, they just scream more. Last night, their grandparents were over and the kiddos were screaming. Angel wanted to send them to bed without dinner and their grandmother interfered and the kids got to stay at the dinner table, eat dinner, go to bed with a bedtime story, and everything. I was PISSED. I didn't say or do anything but my gosh! If I did crap like that, I got spanked. Just punish the kids. Screw the grandparents. Tell them that they're not the parents so they should shut up and let the parents be parents. All these kids are learning is that if they scream and cry, Grandma will interfere and they'll get what they want.
Last night, Daniela was criticizing my Spanish accent as she often does. I speak with a Mexican accent and she's always mocking me for it. She said that she couldn't understand me and she was pretty sure that I was speaking Italian, not Spanish. I'm sick of her mocking me when her English isn't as great as she thinks it is. And her accent sucks; she can't say sugar correctly. It's "SHU-gar" not "sue-GAR." And that's just the start. So I looked at her and said, "Well, when you speak English, half the time, I can't understand you and I'm pretty sure that you're speaking Irish not English." (By Irish I meant Gaelic but I don't know the Spanish word for Gaelic.) And she started to cry because I insulted her English, which does suck. But then her dad told her that my Spanish is better than her English. I win!

But in other news, I'm 48 days from home. And God is here and I'm starting to see him more and more. And I need to remember this quotation from Dante Alighieri
"In God's will our peace."
And I really think the title of this post (however confusing it might be) really does apply to me.