The Final Countdown (Oh, I slay myself)

[rebness]

For God’s sake. No sooner do these drops banish the painful otitis to the hell from whence they came, then the phlegm and the stuffiness returns with a vengeance.

This is getting beyond a joke now; I’m rarely ill, but I have been ill without respite for two months now from various things. The antibiotics I’m taking may not work on the phlegm rubbishness, but they’ll work on the otitis, the fungal infection and the nausea. I’m twenty-three, for God’s sake! I shouldn’t be this ill for so long—I’ve got plenty of that to come in old age. Er, touch wood.

Ach, well. As long as I’m okay enough to be prancing down Las Ramblas and eating my tapas and drinking Sangria on Monday, that’s enough.

Speaking of the impending Spanish trip, I e-mailed the hotel where jaffacakequeen and I are staying in Spain. My brother translated my letter into Spanish for me and I sent it off.

Got a reply. In Catalan. They had understood everything I wrote, they knew I was English and therefore speaking any form of Spanish was a triumph for me, yet they replied in Catalan. >:

Fortunately, my brother understood that, too, and translated for me. I looked online and found out from other reviews that they have a habit of refusing to speak anything other than Catalan at that hotel. Fine, be proud of your heritage and language-- but dude, don't annoy the very people who keep you business!

Unfortunately, I don’t think my Castillan Spanish is going to go down well with them. Ah, well. I can always do the ignorant tourist thing and just launch into English with them.

Comments

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

Your body is trying to tell you something, Becky. It might go a little like this: "Stop drinking like a fish and staying up late and getting stressed. It makes us uncomfortable and we do not like it."

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Oh, my body. It's such a traitor. >:

My eyes are all, "dude! It's 1am and we're tired now! Please can we stop going through this report?"

My brain's like, "I'm hurting. I'm hurting. I only have two more years before I start to destroy myself, so can we make the best of it and stop with the late nights, alcohol and the constant thinking up of stories?"

And my liver's all, "Kidneys, please inform Becky that I am SO not talking to her."

And my mouth's all, "Wine! Now!"

And the others are all, "I hate that fecking mouth."

My brother's all, "amen."

[ozfille]

Sorry for the bum-steer, you must have hit a very nationalistic Catalan hotelier. I thought I was doing OK with my rather poor Spanish.

Here is a good site for Catalan language from the University of Barcelona. You can listen to the sound of the words. Some of the words seem to borrow or be closer to French than Spanish.

http://www.intercat.gencat.es/guia/index0.htm

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Karen! You're a star!

I'm going to have to teach myself some Catalan now. My brother also agreed with you and said that most people will happily speak Castillan with me-- he must just be some grumpy git.

No bother, though. And at least if it's similar to French as well, it shouldn't be too difficult.

Thanks again!

[jaffacakequeen.livejournal.com]

i dont know what i am more worried about the hotel owner or your health! GET SOME EARLY NIGHTS! you may find sleep will do wonders

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Sleep. Bah-- ah spit in its face!

Not really-- I find I'm binge-sleeping at the weekend because I have so much to do of a week, but I'm taking earlier nights now and getting six or seven hours.

Come on, weekend!