My ability to get drunk and recover, that is. Hoy tengo resaca. I went out last night and couldn't get up to go to school today. I did get home at 4am, but classes don't start until 2.30. This may have had something to do with drinking rose cava from a bowl with strawberries in at my Swedish classmates' flat. I can't say how much I actually drank of that scrumptious concoction, but I didn't think I was drunk! On the other hand, when I was going through my photos today and discovered that I'd taken one of Simon, I thought I may actually have been a little tipsy. Simon was a guy I met at the bar at 13 after the party. He whispered in my ear, "I'll have a pint of lager please," and I yelled back: "I'm not English!". To which he said in his most exquisitely camp English voice - oh how I miss that - "You are so - you've got it written all over you darling." I guess it's closer than Russian. Anyway Sie and I got talking for more than half an hour until we realised that we were very thirsty and weren't being served because we were so deep in conversation. I vaguely remember agreeing to meet him there again. Maybe on Saturday? Apparently 13 is my new favourite bar in Barcelona!
Anyway friends, meet Sie.
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