la coruna tales

Quote of the weekend: Do you want to eat octopussy?
This, combined with my remembering of someone (who, in this captivating literary masterpiece that I otherwise call my blog, will remain nameless) who a few years ago instead of saying that an octopus has eight tentacles said that it has eight testicles, made my first culinary octopus experience rather comical. Needless to say, my ever-present inner monologue had me choking back laughter while simultaneously swallowing octopus. Ahhh yes... octopussy with 8 testicles... a true delicacy. Typical Espanish?

Because he was kind enough to let me tag along, I went with Alfonso to La Coruna, the romping grounds of his youth and of my one month pre-Sevilla stay two years ago. I ate at least half of the Atlantic Ocean's life forms (octopussy being only one of the many..), saw the good ole Rialta residence (unfortunately I did not see the Rialta hell-bus), met approximately 2/3 of Galicia, gave myself pats on the back for remembering places and streets, and got to play once again along the shores of the Atlantic. It was also funny to think that La Coruna and East Lyme, Connecticut are approximately on the same latitude, and that therefore by looking west I was essentially waving to home. And yes, I waved... I'm just that cool. Don't judge.

After this most recent adventure in La Coruna, I have also amended my theory on the link between shortness and Spanish men. Before, I had decided that the Spanish are just generally small... now I have come to believe that it's a geographical trend that varies as one moves from region to region... like language dialects. Let's think of it as a height dialect. (This proves once again that my 'Espanol de hoy' class is clearly dominating my life. The other clue was probably when we set a drinking game rule which mandated that we all had to speak using 'ceceo.' Thuthan, nethethitas otra thervetha? Ethtath borracha?= Susan, necesitas otra cerveza? Estas borracha? = Susan, do you need another beer? Are you drunk?) I love straying from what I'm talking about. Anyway, in the south they are the smallest... I take this from my year in Sevilla during which I felt mildly gargantuan. The height and build then increases as one travels northbound through the central Spain region... although shortness still reigns, you find a few freaks thrown in there who are tall-ish and bring up the average just a little bit. Then, when you hit the Atlantic shores of the northern city of La Coruna, the people have evolutionized to be of normal stature and build... normal at least according to American, and therefore my, standards.

It must be the rain that makes all them Gallego boys shoot up like sunflowers. Ironic.








Oh and p.s. It's my half-birthday. Congratulate me on my 23 and 1/2 years. Wooo! Fiesta!