So I ran out around 11:15 to grab some dinner before heading out for the night. The streets are insane, its like a festive little war zone. fireworks sprout up from all over the town and rain down light. Kids on every corner through tiny bombs into the street. I guess I got a little mesmerized by the whole thing because before I knew it...I was lost. And not the fun kinda, "oh well that was the wrong street I better head over one." The kind of "where the hell did all these wierd streets come from and which way is the beach so I can get my barrings. After alot of wandering around in my new sandals (that rub my feet and started hurting). I managed to find my way back to the apt, 45 minutes later and still no dinner. So I headed upstairs to cook up some pasta I had seen earlier and get my painful sandals off. However, when I went to reach for my shoe I realized there was blood all over my foot....awesome.
It actually wasn't that bad but my sandal had rubbed the little blood all over my foot. So I cleaned that up and searched for bandaids...which don't seem to exist in Spain or at least this apt. So I got some neosporine from my bag, a napkin, and some tape and made my own. (very MacGyver). The pasta search turned up some cartoon character pasta and little else but I cooked it up, put the best cherry tomatoes I could find in there, and poured a little olive oil on top...TA DA!... dinner.
So now its almost 1 am and no sign of James so I'm thinkin about heading down to the beach by myself. If nothing else I can probably find a beer down there.
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