¡Salud!

The countdown is more-than-officially on.  I'm essentially done with work, I'm about halfway done packing (obviously an exaggeration…), and every errand I'm currently doing is somehow related to my rapidly approaching departure date.  My motivation is at an all time low, and the only things keeping me moving are watching my roommate pack up her life, seeing pictures of other auxiliaries that are already in Madrid, and the need to accomplish my pre-departure bucket list.

Whelp, #1 is officially complete.  I made it to a Red Sox game, got drunk on Bud Lights and booze I smuggled inside of my bra, and watched the Sox lose.  I sunburned my face, got an ever-so-slight farmers tan, threw peanut shells on the floor, and scrambled through the stands to find a friend on the other side of the stadium.  Dan won the horse race (I'll explain later), Jenna double-fisted, Jeff's baby blue eyes were complimented by a 300 lb man with a snake tattoo around his calf, Libby discovered the delicious combination of fenway lemonade + honey whiskey + cleavage sweat, and I contemplated every possible marry-fuck-kill combination for my friends (and sox players). Needless to say, it was one of the most American, inappropriate, and entertaining Sundays I've had in a long time.  Slept like a rock and woke up ready for round 2.

Next up: Lobster Dinner & "Music" in the park (aka the movie Frozen…best I could do).