Posts a plenty and a pickpocket.

Since I'm SO behind on blogging, the forecast calls for a flood of posts over the next few days. Before I get back to the daunting task of trying to upload pictures with this crappy internet (have I mentioned once or a hundred times that I hate it?) I wanted to share a few stories with you guys.

#1: I have a stalker... maybe.
Last Monday, between my two classes, I rushed to the grocery store to find some lunch. As I was walking down Carrer d'Aribau someone called out to me. I didn't know if the person was actually talking to me, so I turned around to check. He was. The conversation that followed went something like this.
(In Spanish)
Guy: Hi, how are you?
Me: Um... I'm okay.
Guy: You're not from Spain are you?
Me: No. Is it obvious?
(Now in English)
Guy: My name is Dennis. I knew you weren't Spanish. I thought maybe you were Russian or German. I can tell now that you're from the United States. I just wanted to stop you and tell you that I think you are very beautiful.
Me: Er... Thanks, I guess.
Guy: I've see you walking down the street all the time, so I figured now was a good time to talk to you. You're going to Consum, right? (Consume is a grocery store, and by this point I was a little creeped out)
Me: Yeah, a girl's gotta eat sometime.
Guy: And when you go to Consum you walk through the little park as a shortcut, don't you? I see you walking through there a lot. (At this point I was really creeped out.) I live in an apartment beside the pharmacy. My window looks over the park.
Me: Um... okay. Well, I'm going to leave now. This is really awkward.
Guy: Don't be scared, I just want to talk to you. Can we go get coffee sometime? How can I get in touch with you again?
Me: I guess you're just going to have to rely on luck, but I don't think it's a good idea anyway. Goodbye...

Then I walked away very very quickly and took the back streets home. Since then I've been very aware when I go out. I'm not scared of the guy, I just want to avoid him as much as possible.


#2: My reflexes make Edward Cullen look like a slug.
Preface: Edward Cullen is a character in my latest book obsession Twilight (and the 3 following books). My reflexes in this situation aren't really any faster than anyone else's would have been in this situation.

This past weekend, a girl in my program and I went to Prague (more on that later). We flew back to Barcelona on Sunday morning, and it was a very hectic morning beginning with us almost missing our flight. Finally, we arrived at the Barcelona airport and could calm down a little. To get to and from the airport it's more economical to take a train from the city center. Well, we were some of the last passengers to get on the train to take us to the city center, so, needless to say, we didn't get seats. A group of guys jumped on the train at the last minute too. Because we didn't have seats, I just plopped my happy self down on my suitcase to ride home. They guys were standing a little too close to us, but I didn't think much about since the train was quite crowded, however, I did think to put my purse in my lap and I was holding on to it. After a little while I could feel my purse moving some. It was almost like something was tugging at it, but I figured that it was just because people's coats were rubbing against it. I looked down and saw that the zipper was halfway open. That's weird, I thought. Maybe I just forgot to zip it after exchanging my money. I just zipped it up and continued talking to Porschia. Then I felt the tug again. I looked down and the guy standing beside me was trying to unzip my purse!!! I quickly slapped his hand away before he could open it any and gave him my glare. The glare that only comes out when I'm really really mad. Only when I'm seething mad. He stared at me, and then kind of jumped at me to intimidate me! It was as if he was trying to make me feel ashamed that he got caught trying to steal my wallet! What an idiot! Well, I wasn't intimidated and the whole thing was over just as soon as it started. The train was stopping at that point and the guys jumped off as soon as they could. I have a feeling that if they had stayed on longer there would be more than one person getting mad, and it wouldn't have been pretty. (Porschia was just as mad as I was when I told her what happened.) If I had not been sitting down I would have kicked him in the shin or kneed him in the groin. Or even poked him in the eyeballs. As Dwight K. Schrute said, "The eyes are the groin of the head."

Moral of the story: Pickpockets are sneaky. I was paying attention and being careful, and the perp still got his grimy paws on my purse zipper. Luckily I have super sensitive senses and stopped the crime before it could even start.

Coming soon...
Granada
Prague
Maybe I'll think of something else