aintbroke | (no subject)

I have an excellent sense of direction. (No, don't laugh, I'm serious.) I can pick up a map, and locate where I am, where I want to go, fold up the map and go there. I can do this on a regular basis. I can do this without thinking about it. (I can even fold the map back up properly!)

Not in Cordoba, boy. Not by a long shot. I spent fully half an hour wandering around the square kilometer where I am staying with out once laying eyes on my alburgue (Note: this is not, as I have been trying to say ah-luh-bUrg-eh, it's al-bERg-eh. This is important.). I found my way back only through sheer pig-headedness, becuase of my (stupid) refusal to ask for directions.

Regardless, I have hit during the international guitar festival, which means free music everywhere. All night long if I can manage to stay up- which seeing as I have a shiny new alarm clock... oughtn't be a problem.

This is me. Sad but true, as illustrated by the following anecdote: I cut off all my hair with a pocket knife, because I was sick of waiting to find a pair of scissors. Without a mirror and in the dark, I managed to give myself a decent haircut, that (get this) someone complimented me on today.