Jun. 11th, 2007

rebness: (Red!)
I went to a barbecue on Saturday, which isn't all that notable except for the part where it was overseen by an Argentinian friend. By God, my pathetic English barbecues will never be the same again. Mmm. 

Anyway, drama of the weekend was when the neighbours called the police (again, not all that notable -- for some infuriating reason, Barcelona residents don't knock and tell you to keep it down, but will call the police at the slightest sound). We left in the early hours of the morning to get the nightbus back into the city centre. 

I believe that was when my friend Louise started singing La Cucaracha. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. "Why are you singing that?" I asked. 

"Because," she said, "There's a cockroach. And there's one over there. And one there. Oh, and over there..." 

Internets, I screamed my damned head off. Understand, I had up until this point never seen a live cockroach, ever. They're just so big and fast and oh my, I knew to expect them in Spain, but they freak me the hell out. My skin was crawling as I watched them skittering about the road. Louise told me to calm down, because my flat "would definitely, definitely have them." 

Sleeping hasn't  been a problem since. At all. o_O

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