Of soccer and friends (two equally important parts of Spain's national identity)

First, don't call it soccer in front of Europeans. For us, it's football. Fútbol. And Spain lost today. Luckily, I didn't watch the game on my own, I had three nice guys with me, Little L included. It would have been worse to watch all alone. You have to understand that in Spain fútbol is more a religion than a sport. Even if you don't like it, you will know a bit about it. It doesn't matter where you come from, whether you are Catalonian, Basque or Castilian, you have watched your fair share of games. And when the Spanish team plays, you root for them, unless you are an extremely radical nationalist. So I did today, holding my red scarf, and smoking at ten in the morning. It was too early to drink, a shame considering how I needed a drink. But it says in page number 37 of the mommy rules that you don't drink while watching your kid. At least not until lunchtime. That's the other thing about seeing the game from far away, the time frame, even if you watch the game live, it's very different. Fútbol goes well with beer and olives, not pound cake and coffee. But I watched, feeling even more Spanish from the other side of the Atlantic. And I suffered. And I got upset. But we still have two games to go. And hopefully more friends with whom we can watch them.
Which takes me to my second topic of the day. Friendship is extremely important to your average Spaniard. Again, it doesn't matter which region we come from, we are gregarious people. Maybe the bond is deeper in the north, but all over we move in groups. We even mate in groups. There is nothing like American dating in Spain. There, you go out with your friends, and if you meet a guy you like, you will see him at the end of the night. If you really really like him, you'll have coffee or watch a movie the day after. And if you are lucky, it may eventually evolve into a relationship.
Today I had the chance to spend time with a friend I hadn't really talked to in a while. And boy, did I miss it. Some of the best moments of my life were enjoyed with friends. I ended up bonding with my husband thanks to one of them. And when my newborn was sent to the NICU, it was my friends who were there for me. Not to talk about the many long classes they made more enjoyable, the wild nights out, and all the cries of youth. I've lived with and through my friends. And today more than ever, I miss every single one of them. Most live abroad, and three of them are leaving Chicago this year. Which saddens me. Hopefully, I'll meet some new ones, I'm not the quiet type. But today, while I look to the east into the sky over the lake, I'm reminded of how much I would like to be able to pick up the phone and call someone seven hours ahead of me. It's this time of the day, too late for Chicago, too early for Europe, when I feel the loneliest. So from here, I make a toast for them. Os echo de menos.

Back to work

Now I know what working moms talked about when they said they are busy. Today is Monday, and yesterday I went to bed at 2:30 am. I was grading until then. Both my classes had homework due and exams last week, and since I only gained access to the University system last week, I am still trying to set up all my Blackboard functions. I am exhausted. Beyond exhausted. I haven't almost had any time for myself, which is terrible, because I am terribly hooked to the second Millennium book. These week all the big TV series had their big seasons premieres. I usually watch a bunch of them, but this time I was only able to catch a part of House on Monday. I missed Law & Order SVU (although after a very judgemental episode on vaccines I swore I would never watch it again), Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives and part of Brothers and Sisters. I also would like to watch some Jay Leno. I like the guy, I guess I fit in the 5o year old demographic. But I guess I have to say goodbye to TV. Our Netflix copy of Slumdog Millionaire has been sitting in the counter top of two different apartments for months now. Yes, more than two.
Little L is not doing too good in school. The other day he was throwing toys to other kids. And according to his teacher (too young, too blonde, too innocent) the worst part is that he is a good hitter, with a strong hand. I would have cracked up, and then I realized that I am actually his mom. So I shouldn't. I have to adult up, and try to help him ease his stress over the whole school thing. We were sure he would love it, because he loves to be with kids. But apparently he is so mad, that for the first seven days he got the teacher convinced that he doesn't understand any English. And trust me, he does. Absolutely everything. And there is no mom's pride involved in my statement. Some friendly wisdom I got on Saturday from my very pregnant Spanish friend: routine, routine, routine. We'll try it. It may work. We had a lovely and very Spanish evening at her very Spanish apartment. Una velada encantadora. I only met her in January, but I'm growing very close to her. Which helps when you get disappointed by other friends. But I won't get into that. It's Monday and it should start with a positive note. I had a very happy and very busy weekend. So now I feel like that very useful little blue engine...

By a split second

Today I could have died. I don't think I have ever seen death closer than today. As close, maybe, and the other few times a car also was involved. I went with my seven months pregnant friend E to a mall in the suburbs. We wanted to go to Zara, can you get any more Spanish? We had lunch, bought many clothes for our kids, enjoyed our time there... It almost looked like a movie, some kind of feel good soap. Then, on our way back to the city, we suddenly saw something bouncing our way in the highway. We saw it in slow motion. At first glance we couldn't tell what it was, but as it came closer we realized it was a huge truck wheel. Not only the tire, but the whole huge wheel. Bouncing 15 feet high at a crazy speed directly towards my friend's car. I saw it crashing, I swear, but thank God E, who is way more reflective than I am, was able to turn a little bit to the left and we missed it by a couple of inches. Thank God there was almost no traffic on Sunday. Thank God it didn't hit the car in front of us, or any other car behind us, for that matter. For someone who doesn't usually believe in God I named him quite few times today. I know that's convenient. We didn't speak for a couple of minutes, as we were in shock. When we did, we could only say one thing: "Coño, estamos vivas. Lo demás da lo mismo". I think our friendship is closer today. Our bonding deeper. Our luck, untouched.