As far as 8:00 am classes go, my Spanish class is on the “way less sucky” end of the spectrum.  It’s actually a little bit enjoyable.  In fact, if it took place at a reasonable hour I would probably really like it.  The professor makes it interesting, especially when he brings in the awesomeness of Spain (his native country) versus the “nice try” America (my native country).  He doesn’t mean it in a bad way, I don’t think, and there’s not much to say when discussing soccer (Prof: “Well…the US beat Spain this year.  But it was in the Confederation Cup and that’s not really a big deal….”  Brave Guy In Class: “So you’re saying they didn’t play hard?”  Prof: backpedals quickly…) or basketball (Prof: “…the US beat Spain in the Olympics.  But…goes on to talk about some rule that the refs didn’t enforce…”).  It’s not nearly as hostile as it all sounds.  In fact, it’s hilarious and good-spirited and all in fun.  On my part, anyway.

On the other hand I’m having a bit of trouble with the language itself.  I haven’t had a Spanish class since 2003 and since then managed to learn and forget a large quantity of conversational Italian (I misssssss Switzerlaaaaand!) so I’m struggling a little.  Most of the rest of the class is, too, as far as “nobody remembers this stuff from Spanish classes of yore” so at least I’m not alone in that boat.  Understanding my classmates, though?  Also difficult.  This is one of my few classes where I’ve actually run in to the “Wow I’m totally so much older than all of you” issue, and it’s bizarre and hilarious and the things that they say are weird and crack me up.  Is this the “Sponge Bob” generation?  Sponge Bob’s been around ten years now – my 19 and 20 year old classmates totally grew up with Sponge Bob.  Holy bananas, you guys, that’s ridiculous.  That just makes me want to barf a little bit. :-/ I felt like my grandma when this kid was like “What happened to me last night was so fucked up!” and I said “Oh no!” and he goes “…no, like, it was…good.”  Ohhhh.  You mean good fucked up.  I didn’t even know that was a thing.

I remember when I first heard my grandma say that something was “cool.”  No matter what, she’s never been quite able to pull that one off – it comes off as unnatural.  It’s totally like she’s thinking “Ugh, the stupid-sounding crap I have to say to make my grandchildren understand me!” every time she does it but my grandmother is AWESOME so she puts up with it.  But can you imagine me, in fifty years, trying to talk to my grandkids?  “Oh, honey, the home run you hit was fucked up!!”  Oh good Lord.  Help.


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