Flying time...

I still can't believe I have only three weeks left. I've met the coolest people here and while I'm excited to open up a new chapter of my life, I'm like astonished that people you bond with so quickly will exit your life as quickly as they entered it. I sincerely hope, however, that we all stay in contact. Otherwise, that sh*t's "OD" as my partner in crime would describe it. (I'm sure I screwed that one up but frankly, I don't care...I ain't ghetto).

Okay, so today we watched a weird movie with Penelope Cruz, took my exam, then went to the Palacio Real for class. With regard to the exam, I was sitting there actually taking my time thinking about every word and each particular answer when it dawned on me that I didn't care, I wasn't getting a grade nor credit, so I stopped and walked out.

Whit, Salem, Danny, and I went to some awesome restaurant for lunch. 9,50 Euros for Pasta, Beef, a drink, and a postre (dessert) with all the pan you could want. It was tasty, and the waiter was really...well, spunky.

We managed to get our way down to the Opera metro stop and make our trip to the Royal Palace (aka Palacio Real), a gigantic edifice constructed initially in "la primera mitad del siglo..." haha, inside joke. It was reconstructed in the 17th century. Absolutely gorgeous. Some of the rooms were entirely marble, some porcelain (Carlos III of the Borbóns built a porcelain factory in the 18th century in the Parque del Buen Retiro).

In one of the rooms, there was the receiving area for all Presidents, Heads of States, Ambassadors who come to visit the official palace. So when President Bush comes to Spain for a royal reception (oh cuz we know how often that occurs), he'd follow old procedures to greet Don Juan Carlos II (El Rey), but he won't bow. The bowing practice has been done away with as nation-states grew more powerful and international law became more important than a single nation's power. A similar thing happened in 1908 in the London Olympics when American athletes, during the opening procession, were told to bow down to the reigning monarch. They refused. According to a bystander, "Americans bow to no one but the law". Damn right. Absolutely baller.

Toward the west side of the Palacio, there's the view of the campo or fields from old. In the Middle Ages, these were literally royal fields that surrounded the walls. Now, while there's many sprawling neighborhoods, you can see remnants of a barren field full of greenery. We went downstairs into the Armory, looking at some old armour, muskets, horse gear. We playfully made some jokes toward Rich, Harvard Singaporean Student, who's always setting himself up for a joke. But in reality, he's served his 2 year obligation in the Singaporean Army, and I really respect that. His description of the job didn't sound too fun, but it's certainly a duty and one that's necessary. Maybe my patriotism is just too much at times, but I really appreciate the Cicerean notion of giving to one's state. America's provided me so much, and while the ideal sometimes isn't the reality, I love her warts and all. To expand on this notion I must employ two awesome quotes from Robert A. Heinlein's "Starship Troopers". Yeah, the movie sucks, so if you deny it proper applause simply because you saw the crappy movie, you, my friend, are just plain goofy.

Speaking of Duty: "I told you that 'juvenile delinquent' is a contradiction in terms. 'Delinquent' means 'failing in duty.' But duty is an adult virtue—indeed a juvenile becomes an adult when, and only when, he acquires a knowledge of duty and embraces it as dearer than the self-love he was born with. There never was, there cannot be a 'juvenile delinquent.' But for every juvenile criminal there are always one or more adult delinquents—people of mature years who either do not know their duty, or who, knowing it, fail."

Furthermore: "The most noble fate a man can endure is to place his own mortal body between his loved home and the war's desolation."

Tomorrow, Whit and I are gonna go after class to the Naval Museum (Museo Naval) for a class project. Lemme say one thing, and maybe I don't remember American museums, but what the hell is with this g-d damn camera policy in Spain. You go to a museum to remember, but you are not allowed to take pictures. And yes, I understand the whole "ohh you might make postcards" bullshit, but c'mon. I see these AMAZING structures and paintings and the most I can say to someone is "hey, check it out on wikipedia or google...really neato"

Oh, Bibbidy Bobbidy, Bibbidy Boo, Boppy