Toledo Day 1

[I want to come up with cute titles for these, but I don't think it's going to happen.]

For me, Easter break began at 7:00 p.m. on the 11th. After a car ride to Madrid filled with conversation about Morocco and a stay in a super cheap hostel, I made my way to the Toledo bus station. Not to be confused with the bus station I go to to get to Soria OR the main bus station.

There, I discovered that A) they don't sell buses for particular times/seats, which was perfect for me because I didn't know what time I'd want to leave and B) the discount for buying a return ticket only applies if you're returning the same day. Lame.

But the 2 extra euros were totally worth the extra time in the city.

I got to my hostel, armed with a map from the tourist office, and sat trying to figure out where to start. Luckily for me, the hostel guy who was changing the sheets in the room recommended I start by buying this Tourist Pass to six different sites for that day, because the Cathedral and Alcazar would be free the next day [Sunday]. And free is obviously always good.

I set out with the intention of buying my pass at one of the further sites. Somehow, I ended up going in completely the wrong direction, despite having a map, and ended up at the other end of the city. So I bought my pass, really one of those stick-on paper bracelets, at the Monastery of San Juan de los Reyes. It felt weirdly validating to wave my braceleted wrist and pass up the ticket booths at each of the monuments.

[Side note: I tried to keep the bracelet as a souvenir but ended up losing it. That's a story for later though.]

This monastery was smaller than others I've visited but absolutely beautiful inside. It was founded by los Reyes Catolicos [Isabel and Ferdinand] after they won some big battle...clearly my knowledge of Spanish history is still quite incomplete. However, I do know that Queen Isabel was a big fan of this particular St. John.
 

I walked a block down the street to reach the Synagogue of Santa Maria la Blanca. The Santa Maria part of the name comes from the Christians taking it over after they kicked the Jews out of Spain. It was the main synagogue when it was built in the 12th Century and was my first introduction to the beautiful arches that would appear in so many other buildings in Toledo [and later Cordoba].

I was planning on going to Santo Tome next, but being an El Greco site and this being the 400th anniversary of something El Greco related, there was a super long line. So I skipped it for the time being and went to the El Salvador Church instead. Reading my tourist bracelet pamphlet, this was originally a mosque from the 9th Century but in 1159 it was Christianized. In further Isabel and Ferdinand connections, their daughter Juana was baptized here.

Continuing down the road, I found the San Ildefonso Church, also known as the Church of the Jesuits. It's the newest building; they only started building in 1569, although it was apparently not finished until 1765. I lovedlovedloved this church. After seeing so many in all the different styles, I'm a little desensitized to how awesomely beautiful they are, but for whatever reason, this one brought back that feeling. Plus I got to go up into the tower for some amazing views of the city.

I was really looking for somewhere to eat, but being notoriously indecisive, I managed to wander over to the next site without stopping. The Cristo de la Luz Mosque, like the Synagogue, was reconsecrated by the Christians, but I think it happened a lot earlier. There was a legend that the Queen, when entering Toledo after it was conquered [so like, 12th Century], felt a wind almost knock her off her horse as she passed by the mosque, so she insisted it become a Christian church.

At that point, I'm pretty sure I gave in to my growling stomach and found somewhere to eat. And then I toughed it out in the line for the Santo Tome Church. Which as it turns out, was just there because people were crowded into a small space to see El Entierro del Senor de Orgaz, the El Greco painting in the church. And when I say people, I mostly mean tour groups that stood and talked about it for-freaking-ever and made it difficult to get up close and see. So I spent a few minutes marveling at the actual church before pushing my way to the front of the crowd to look at the painting.

Then, because I had time and things are on their summer schedules and therefore open later, I went to two museum. For free!

I started at the El Greco Museum. It's housed in an old house that was built by a Jewish treasurer or court official or something like that in the 1400s. A couple hundred years later, some rich guy bought it because El Greco lived there at some point and restored it to create this museum. I didn't end up getting to the Santa Cruz museum [the bigger El Greco museum] so I'm glad I got to see this one, because those paintings are incredible to see in person.

Plus the rose garden smelled wonderful.

After that, I headed across the street to visit the Sephardic Museum (in the former Synagogue El Transito). It consisted of the main worship room - are they called sanctuaries if they're Jewish? - a rememberance garden, and a few galleries with historical objects, including the Women's Section that looks over the main...sanctuary.

I took a lovely walk across the San Martin bridge and saw the panoramic photo spot, but decided it was too far and I'd had enough walking. I admired my view until it got too cold and windy, so I bought myself a Nestea and headed back to my hostel. Mmmmm Nestea.

Back from the Dead

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

I'm sure I've said this a thousand times already, but I am terrible about remembering that I have a blog to update. And travel pictures to upload. And dishes to wash.

I want to be able to focus on accomplishing all these things, but I always almost-accidentally seem to binge watch TV instead. Especially YouTube series. Right after I finally gave up on a few network TV series, I've gotten addicted to several more online. It's a little ridiculous.

[On a related note, I will take the time to watch shows just to see some of my favorite YouTube actors on "real" shows. I find it adorable - even more so when they're in commercials.]

This week, I'm blaming it on the chilly, rainy weather we've been having. Alas. Such a letdown after my nice sunny week in Morocco.

BUT, even if I have to unplug my wireless router, I am determined to turn off the TV shows and get busy writing and photo uploading this weekend. I promise. Between my camera and my phone, I think I have just under 900 pictures to share, which will definitely take forever. So they'll be going up on the blog in smaller doses while I wrangle with the Facebook album uploader.

Check back probably tomorrow for the first installment of Toledo pictures. For a small town/short trip, there are quite a lot of them.

Education in Spain

Here are just a few of the differences I've noted between Spanish and American high schools:

My school building was originally a 16^th century monastery.

It's served a variety of purposes since being built, including a hospital, before becoming a secondary school in the mid 1800s. That means it has no lockers, spotty wifi [it has trouble getting through the thick walls], a former chapel turned mini-museum full of old science equipment, etc. It also means that it's a tourist stop in the city, mostly because Spanish poet Antonio Machado was a teacher there. They even have a room on the ground floor that's done up to look like a classroom would have looked when he was teaching.

Antonio all decked out for his birthday.

Students refer to their teachers by first name.

And not out of rudeness or over-familiarity. There's just a different definition for respecting the teacher.

Behavior-wise, most of the kids are amazing. But they talk [with each other, at least] so much more than anyone would have dared in my high school classes. They generally keep it pretty quiet, but if a kid crosses the line, the teacher sends him or her [but usually him, let's be honest] into the hallway for the rest of the class. In a few of my classes, especially when I'm alone with one half, it is so hard to get the entire class to pay attention at the same time.

The education system is set up a little differently too.

There are four years of secondary school, the equivalent of 7th-10th grades. Attendance is compulsory until age 16, after which students can continue studying another 2 years in Bachillerato classes in preparation for university, or they do vocational training instead.

Primary school is a little different too. The kids have said that their language instruction begins at age 3, which from a developmental perspective is great. Of course, that also means that they basically have public preschools within their primary schools which are so hard to find at home.

Snow in the courtyard in February.

Teachers change classrooms (as do students, but to a lesser extent).

There aren't enough classrooms for each teacher to have their own, so they're moving around all day. Each department has its own “Sala de profesores” where the teachers leave their things and keep resources. But there's not really a specific area of the school for each subject, except for classes in the science laboratories.

Instead, the students are grouped into smaller groups inside their grade level and each group has their own classroom. So for example, the 3rd year students [9th graders] have four groups: 3A, 3B, 3C, and 3D. But then there are some classes [like the bilingual ones] that have a few kids from each group, so they use whatever classrooms are free during that period.

Three flags over the entrance of the school.

Speaking of which, the daily schedule is worlds away from blocked scheduling.

Classes are 50 minutes long which is great for me because that means I don't have to hold the kids' attention quite as long. There are two short breaks during the day but no lunch period. So they have two classes, a 20 minute recess, two more classes, 25 minutes of recess, and then the last two classes. The younger students are supposed to stay inside during the breaks, but the older ones are allowed to leave.

The most interesting thing to me is that the schedule is the same week to week NOT day to day. So despite having a shorter school day - school goes from 8:15 to 2:15 - the kids are studying more subjects. For some electives, they might only have 1 hour a week, while they have 3 or 4 English class periods. The only problem is that classes which are scheduled for Mondays and Fridays have a lot more non-class days [usually due to holidays or class trips] than others and they get behind.

The Impact of a Mitten

After a partially disastrous trip to Madrid this past weekend, I've resolved to catch up on all the travelling-in-Spain posts that I've meant to write and yet somehow...haven't. I am the worst when it comes to procrastinating on things without deadlines. I unfortunately got really good at getting essays done last minute when it came to school, and now without that slightly panicked, I-have-four-hours-left-to-finish adrenaline, I have so much trouble writing. So. Here's hoping this resolution is one I can actually keep.

It's going to take a while. But better late than never, right?

Anyways, Madrid. When my family was here at Christmas, we spent a day and a half in the city. But due to a couple of factors, namely it being the end of our whirlwind tour of Spain, we didn't do many of the "must see" tourist destinations so I've been meaning to go back ever since. 

Waiting in line for an hour.

[We actually only got to spend 3 hours at the Prado which, sad times. But I'm going to do the museums on my next visit and I can get in for free with my ID because I'm here on a student visa! Yay technicalities!]

Noticing a possibility for snow in the forecast for last Saturday [which didn't pan out, but now it's supposed to snow tomorrow...boo], I quickly booked one night at a Madrid hostel. I am also currently hosting a Flat Stanley from a friend's elementary school class and I figured pictures of the palace in Madrid would be pretty cool :)

Looking at bus schedules, I learned that there was a strike going on. About half of the normally planned buses between Madrid and Soria aren't running at the moment. No big deal, I thought, I can always try the ride-sharing thing if I need to. [Spoiler: this didn't work out so well.]

Because of the strike, I meant to buy my ticket ahead of time just in case, but since Fridays are super busy, it completely slipped my mind. When I got to the bus station Saturday morning, the first bus was already "completo."

Crap. I sat down in the waiting room and sent a message to a ride-share guy that was leaving in 45 minutes. And then, miraculously, someone returned their ticket and I got a seat.

My first stop in Madrid was the Apple Store. This has a ridiculously long backstory, but basically: parents bought me a new [used] iPhone for Christmas since my dad's old one is too old for most apps. Previous owner was a jerk and had neither unlocked nor erased/reset the phone before selling it. I can therefore do nothing but use the alarm, take pictures, and play Solitaire.

So my dad suggested I go to an Apple Store to see if they would delete his accounts for me. They wouldn't.

Which was really annoying to learn after an hour on the Metro and the 1.50 euro surcharge I had to pay because the store was in a mall waaaaay outside the city center. I was consoled by purchasing the most delicious pita sandwich I think I've ever eaten.

The rest of the afternoon was fantastic. I dropped my stuff off at the hostel and headed out for sightseeing. I first stopped at the Sabatini Gardens which my family and I had missed despite being about 500 feet away from them [right next to the palace]. These are a fairly new addition, having been built where the royal stables used to be.

After admiring the view and successfully giving someone directions to the Cathedral, I headed over to the Templo del Debod. Basically, the Spanish helped the Egyptians save some ancient temples, and to say thanks, the Egyptians gave them one.

So there's a legit Egyptian temple in the middle of Madrid.

The park around the temple is also beautiful, so I wandered a bit before getting in the line to go inside. It was pretty windy, so I was debating the value of waiting in the cold just to see this little temple. But I would say it was worth it, especially since it was free. The carvings that were still preserved on the walls were incredible! Plus now I can say I've seen a little piece of Egypt, even if I never make it there myself.

I stopped for dinner at a pizza place I had passed earlier because I have been craving pizza like crazy. I was good and went to a little Spanish restaurant and refrained from stopping at a Domino's by the mall for lunch. I got one slice of "canibal" pizza - basically meat lovers, none of them being human - and the "pizza of the day" which was cheese with a Spanish cucumber-like vegetable.

Also it was 3 euros. I am cheap, especially when it comes to food.

Sunday morning, I was woken bright and far too early by some crazy 6 a.m. partiers on the street. And then only half slept the next hour and a half because everyone in the hostel snored so loudly. I swear, all the snorers in the city were staying there.

But they offered free breakfast, which makes up for a lot.

Catedral de la Almudena

I walked back to the same part of town to visit the Cathedral and Palace. By this point, I've been inside so many Spanish churches that they all start to blend together. The distinguishing factor here was the modern stained glass windows and the decoration of the ceiling. It's a painted ceiling, but really just in patterns and bands of color, which is not very typical. 

Also, look at that organ.

[The Valencia Cathedral had some similar murals commissioned by Rodrigo Borgia, AKA the Pope with a bunch of kids who maybe had a fondness for poisoning people.]

I also visited the Crypt, which was beautiful but appropriately somber. Unfortunately, the Cathedral Museum and access to the cupola are not open on Sundays, so I'll have to go back another time.

Then the Royal Palace.

Oh, the Royal Palace.

I was so disappointed in December when we arrived 1 minute [literally, one minute] after they stopped letting people in. So this was my primary goal for the weekend. I timed it perfectly - I walked up and bought my ticket with no line whatsoever. There were a few people waiting when I walked past to go to the Cathedral, and even more when I was leaving, so I was really happy with how that turned out.

I skipped the 4 euro audioguides and just stalked a couple of tour groups for extra background information on all the rooms. I'm going to borrow a couple of pictures from Google to show y'all since photos aren't allowed inside.

The throne room. The lions were part of a table that burnt in a fire. So they added the tops of their heads and here they are.

The Gasparini Room. Embroidering the walls [yes, embroidering] took 55 years, about twice as long as constructing the whole palace.

The Banquet Hall, created so one of the King Alfonsos could throw a big wedding party for his daughter. Before, it had been 3 rooms: the Queen's breakfast, lunch, and dining rooms. [The King had his own three rooms for eating.]

The Royal Chapel. They've got Saint Felix's mummy on display here because Queen Isabel II liked him so much, the Pope gave him to her as a present.

Basically, it was fantastic.

I stopped for some mildly expensive churros y chocolate on my way back to my hostel, since I never could find a street vendor selling them. And then, disaster struck.

First, I realized that all but the very last bus to Soria were booked. This would have been okay, but I was really looking forward to Skyping with my family that evening and getting home at midnight was therefore not ideal.

Second, none of the ride-share drivers would return my messages/calls. I realize I should have arranged this more than 24 hours before, but really. There were four rides being offered, so I expected at least one of them to call back. Giving up on that, I bought a bus ticket online, thanking my lucky stars that the guy at the hostel desk let me use their printer.

Third, I lost a mitten.

And not just any mitten. My beautiful, orange, wool, handmade in Peru mitten. My super warm, combination glove/mitten. I love those mittens. I had been wearing them in the chilly morning and put them in my purse after going to the Cathedral, so it could have been lost anytime after that. I had to work to hold back tears.

I had a cup of tea to console myself, accidentally wandered through a new part of Madrid, headed back over to the tourist area to see if, by some miraculous chance someone had found my poor mitten at the palace or the churros restaurant [they hadn't] and then...waited. I bought a light dinner at the Corte Ingles, people watched in the Plaza del Sol, and stopped to listen to street musicians.

Eventually, it got to cold to sit around outside, so I hopped back on the Metro to wait in the bus station for about an hour and a half. [At least I finally finished Anna Karenina because of that wait.] I blessedly slept the whole bus ride, startling awake about two minutes before we pulled into the Soria bus station, and managed to Skype with my family after all.

Palace and Cathedral, seen from the Templo del Debod park.

So while as a whole, it was really a good experience, that poor lost mitten really tainted the weekend. [And the bus hassles. But those at least resolved themselves.]

RIP, dear little mitten. I hope you're enjoying yourself, wherever you ended up.

The Best Laid Plans

Ever since I first found out, late last August, that I was actually going to teach in Spain, I was thrilled. And not just about the living in Spain part. I was most excited because I [finally] had the next two years of my life planned out. That hasn't happened since I accepted my spot at Texas State.

Three weeks ago, I decided not to renew my position for another year, letting go of my dreams of living in Andalucia.

Which puts me back in my post-college what-am-I-doing-with-my-life mindset.

Which is quite the struggle for organized, planning me.

Somehow, this seems to keep happening to me. I grew up knowing that I was going to be a teacher. I have a very distinct memory of a guest speaker we had in a youth group meeting at the very beginning of my senior year of high school. She asked if any of us knew, 100% for sure, what we were going to do for a living. So I, supremely confident, raised my hand and said decisively, "I'm going to be a teacher."

Less than a month later, I had changed my mind.

So I started college getting my degree in Family and Child Development instead of Education. At the time, I was planning on being a Child Life Specialist [if I haven't already explained it to you, basically it's a job where you make kids in the hospital happier].

And then I changed my mind again. I did my internship at a Child Placing Agency and fully intended on working for CPS after I graduated.

Well, that plan clearly didn't work out for me. I spent the next few months getting over my I'm-terribly-burnt-out-from-school-and-job-hunting funk and then was offered a terrific part-time position at a preschool. I was reminded how much I lovelovelove toddlers. There are not many people who seem to like this stage best [hence the term terrible twos] but it is my absolute favorite.

Unfortunately, the Peace Corps doesn't need a lot of preschool teachers. So I applied for the Spain job and said I wouldn't be back in the fall because, as much as I love those babies, I also desperately needed to travel. Overseas.

And then I didn't hear from them, and didn't hear from them. So, change of plans again! I got a full-time nanny job for the sweetest baby boy, with a lovely family, that I was planning on staying at for a year, at which point I was going to try for Spain again.

Ha!

Here I am, teaching in Spain 5 years after I decided I could never be a teacher. [For some reason, teaching languages is a little better than teaching other subjects, although the variety in the education systems in Peru and Spain also makes a big difference.] And it's great, and I get to travel, and I'm earning money.

But.

But I'm sick of high schoolers.

Don't get me wrong, most of my classes are great. There are a lot of kids that are really invested in learning English, and their level is much higher than that of most American students. But the ones that aren't just...aren't. They talk over me, they don't pay attention, and they make me really, really miss my sweet toddlers.

These past 5 months have reinforced the knowledge that I am not cut out to be a grade school teacher. Preschool is my home. [It's also the most important age for attachment, and therefore foster/adopted kids, and therefore combines two of my loves.]

And as much as I enjoy living here, I realized, as I procrastinated on working on my reapplication, that there's not a lot left I want to do in Spain. I've done a ton of traveling, practiced some Spanish, and eaten a lot of delicious paella. When trying to picture next year, maybe in Granada, the only thing I was looking forward to was coming home during Christmas break and having a Presbyterian-ish church to go to.

Which are not good reasons to commit to living somewhere for nine months.

So now I'm working on a new plan. And I'm really excited about it and can't wait to share it with everyone. But this post is long and picture-less enough as it is, so that will have to wait for another day.

Adventures in Pancake Making

I consider myself a decent cook. And usually a good baker too. But no matter how hard I try to follow recipes or keep the kitchen clean while I work, it never seems to go quite so smoothly.

So of course, my first stab at solo pancake making was bound to be interesting. [Especially because there are no mixing bowls in my apartment. I don't understand how this happened. We have an overflowing cupboard full of them at home.]

BUT pancakes are a must for Shrove Tuesday/Mardi Gras. Since I can't be at my church eating pancakes and applesauce and sausage patties, I dug up a recipe I had saved - well, it ended up being a combination of two recipes - and got to work buying ingredients. And this is how it turned out.

Step One: Find a YouTube playlist of New Orleans jazz music

Step Two: Make the batter [and in this case, a cinnamon filling as well]

The ingredient-mixing itself wasn't that hard and I only made a tiny mess with the cinnamon sugar. Yay! I did have to make some substitutions due to Spain not having vegetable oil, and had to leave off a yummy sounding cream cheese glaze because I haven't seen any powdered sugar. I even realized how big of a recipe it was and halfed it [the batter still lasted two days, but what's wrong with two days of pancake dinners?].

Step Three: Grease pan with butter and plop down the pancake mixture

This is not as easy to do when you're guestimating how much butter to melt because there is no non-stick cooking spray in my apartment. Maybe in all of Spain. Who knows?

Step Four: Swirl in some cinnamon

Technically you could follow the instructions from the recipe and use an icing bag/ziploc to make a nice circle. But when you have neither of those things, a tea spoon will do just fine.

Step Five: Flip

This is where it got dicey. The cinnamon swirl, while a tasty addition, also makes the pancakes flimsier. Which I wasn't quite expecting when I made my first gigantic pancake, hence the broken pieces above. Poor pancake #1.

[Also, is it strange that I think of the Aral Sea every time I look at that picture?]

Step Six: Eat!

I'm obviously a lot biased, but these are some of the best pancakes I've ever eaten.

Here's the recipe. For the pancakes, just mix the dry ingredients together, add in the wet ones and mix them until all the flour is blended in. For the filling, I melted the butter in a glass dish then added the cinnamon and sugar. Then you basically make them like regular pancakes - although the recipe did say to be careful not to cook them too fast because the cinnamon could burn.

Pancakes

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 4 tsps baking powder
• 2 cups milk
• 1 mashed banana [my Google-approved substitute for 2 tbsps vegetable oil]
• 2 large eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla extract [because I didn't make the glaze]

Cinnamon Filling

• 1/2 cup butter, melted
• 3/4 cup brown sugar, packed
• 1 tbsp ground cinnamon

Cream Cheese Glaze

• 1/4 cup butter
• 2 oz. cream cheese
• 3/4 cups powdered sugar
• 1 tsp. vanilla

Thoughts on Sochi Figure Skating

And just like that, the first week of the Olympics is already done.

This was alternately an exhilarating and heartbreaking week, for figure skating at least. I made myself hold off on spamming my Facebook page with all my commentary; the ones that made it through were generally about the Russians or Javier Fernandez.

Poor Javi. I definitely curled up on my couch Friday night after the free skate for a 10 minute he-just-needed-two-more-points pity party.

In other couch related news, I decided to paint my nails while watching one of the events. And of course, the one time I don't grab a piece of scrap paper to put under the bottle, I spilt it on my couch. Luckily for me, the color of the nail polish matches the color of couch almost exactly.

Team Event

Brand new this year and just in time, the team event was wonderful wonderful wonderful. All I did last weekend was watch figure skating, which was gloriously broadcast live, commercial and interruption free. Hours upon hours of skating.

Firstly, I think it's nice to include more skaters in the competition. Even though they had no shot, the Brits got to bring an extra skater or two because they qualified. So a mid-level skater gets to be an Olympian, and maybe the teams with a weakness in an event will start seeing improvement [I'm talking about you, Japan]. We'll see.

Secondly, one of the Canadian skaters [I'm pretty sure an ice dancer] was super cute about participating - you could hear her say, "I was skating on Olympic ice!" on her way to the Kiss and Cry after the short program, and "I didn't want to get off the ice" after the free skate.

Lastly, and most importantly, it ensured that Evgeni Plushenko would get another well deserved Olympic gold medal. [Although I do wish Adelina Sotnikova could've skated her short program. It would've been nice for her to have a medal too.]

Pairs

I have to admit, the Olympics are the only time I really watch Pairs skating. [Same goes for ice dance.] I enjoy it, of course, and they do some incredible throws and lifts, but I only vaguely follow who's leading in the intervening years. There's just too many other skaters for me to keep track of. But here's what I thought:

Aliona Savchenko and Robin Szolkowy's free skate costumes are so nice, so why the pink panther monstrosity? I have always despised those costumes, especially hers. Which makes me sad because not enough lady skaters wear pants.

Tiny 16 year old Cheng Peng doing a quad twist is pretty darn incredible to witness.

There are so many Ukrainian skaters competing for other countries. A few Russians and Americans do this as well [all the Reed siblings], but still, it's astounding.

The short program really is Tatiana Volosozhar and Maxim Trankov's forte. I could watch them over and over again. The free skate? Maybe I just found the Jesus Christ Superstar music too jarring to hear during a competition compared to the gala, where it would be great.

I think the 3rd Russians were underscored in both segments. I saw some grumbling headlines about the team competition being fixed, but clearly there isn't a bias towards the Russians. They're just that good.

Men

I am utterly crushed that Plushenko was in too much pain to compete on home ice after he tried so hard to do it. [And also that his tour will probably be postponed until after I leave Europe.] How do you skate after the greatest skater alive has just withdrawn? Badly, it seems. So many falls from so many good skaters. Either that or the ice is cursed.

The worst crash and fall? Jeremy Abbott. Ouch. I apologized for every mean thing I've said about him after he picked himself up after that and had a great skate. [Not that I was surprised he fell...again.]

Skaters to watch: Michael Christian Martinez and Jason Brown. The first Filipino to qualify for the Olympics, this kid was fantastic. And I rolled my eyes every time I saw some headline about Jason being in medal contention. Yeah, he's got a shot...4 years from now. What a great spinner though. If he just gets his quads down...

Why does Kevin Reynold's hair/costume always look weird? Poor kid. He has a really cute nose though. Which I realize is a strange thing to say.

Crossing my fingers for the two Javiers didn't work at all. Hopefully the Spanish ice dancers will have a better time of it.