Cabelleros

The facebook friends whoring continues quite well. I wonder how the kids of today look back just 15 years ago to all those movies and programs where guys are trying to get all the hot girls phone numbers. Obviously in this day and age it should be easy to make contact. You just turn up to some random event and instantly have a dozen new friends. Man, maybe my dating life would've been better if facebook was around 10 years ago. Ah, cute guitarist girl that I met once, where are you now?

Last night I went through quite the extreme of events. It began with a language exchange with an Italian girl, drinking coffee and learning a little about auxillery verbs and the conjugations afterwards. I then had to boogie on over to Camille's, but I've found my first ever problem with Google Maps. Camille lives almost directly over the metro stop. But her address pin covered the metro on the map, and thus I didn't see it. So I got off at the station before hers and walked aimlessly for an hour getting pissed off that Madrid had failed me again (they don't do maps, they don't do useful signs). I also came across 3 streets with eerily similar names: Calle de Cabelleros, Calle Cabelleros, and Calle de los Cabelleros. And they were all connected. Isn't that easy?

Eventually I made it, and in celebration of us being girls we made chocolate crepes, laughed at my beard, then went out. I met a cool Swiss girl and a cool Scotish guy, and we laughed about many a silly thing, got chased off by the police and had to ditch our alcohol before being arrested, lost half the group, found another group, lost them, managed to get into a club, danced like rejects from You've Got Talent, handed out more koalas, found out a little more about the essay I'm supposed to hand in soon, then walked halfway across town to get to my bus and find my way home.