San Juan and Cacharelas

Tonight is the night of San Juan in Spain. The magical night of witches and fortune.
Not that anyone actually BELIEVES in any of it, though. It's just a fun excuse to get together with friends and eat traditional foods and drink wine for free in the street! The main part of the night is having to jump over a bonfire 3 times. Only the truly brave actually jump over the blazing bonfire...the rest of us whimps just light a newspaper on fire and jump over that. It works.

The Final Countdown

You got it! My Masters is coming to an end. I finished my last exam about a week ago and now I have to do my final project, which is due in September. I've chosen the topic of "Threats to the Chesapeake Bay and one of it's most important fisheries: the blue crab". You might be seeing a little less of me in Bloggerland, because I really need to get on the ball and finish this, plus I have about 10 medical articles that I have to translate into Spanish by the end of the month for a local professor, along with my regular summer classes that I'll be teaching. So, I'll be pretty busy over the next few months. I'll stop by every now and then, though. I'm off to plan my class for this afternoon. Ciao!

Snerd Mc Ferd

That's what my brother has called me since I was a kid. Of all the people in the world, I think I have always been his biggest fan. I think the best thing about our relationship is the simplicity. We don't expect anything from each other and we never have, and that works for us. As a child I used to worship my brother. I thought he was the best and coolest thing since sliced bread. Of course he, being who he is, liked to take advantage of this fact. On numerous occasions he would use me as his personal slave to get him a glass of milk with cookies, tell him where mom had hidden all the snacks, get me to scratch his back, or go get his shoes for him. And my love for him always led me to quickly forgive him for putting me on top of the fridge and leaving me up there, shanking me and making me moon the entire neighborhood, giving me the occasional swirly and accidently kicking me in the face mid-cart-wheel. I never seemed to mind. I just laughed. I mean, hey, it was Brian...my idol!

I'll never forget the time that my dad wasn't able to come to my Indian Princess meetings, because he'd been transfered to Raleigh and we still lived in Wilmington, so my brother filled in. Not many 18 year olds would hang out with their little sister and 10 other 9 year olds in indian head dresses making crafts and singing camp songs. Although he always did take over my craft and do it himself, and I never could get him to sing. But like I said before, I forgave him. I was just so happy he was there. As I've grown, the whole "idol worshipping" bit has faded and I know longer subject myself to personal slavery (even though he still tries every now and then!). But I still think he's great.

Brian, you can always count on me to watch "Cool as Ice" with Vanilla Ice, go 4-wheelin' in the mud, fishin' on the pier, listen to old-school rap with the bass pumping, or a game of prisoner's base or war in the old neighborhood. But you can get your butt off the couch and get your own darn beer!! And keep calling me Snerd...I actually kind of like it. Love you.