And You Get a Valentine, And You Get a Valentine, And....

In honor of the upcoming Hallmark holiday (just kidding, I actually really love Valentine's Day because my mom gives me presents because she's the best and the SweetTarts and peanut butter she sent overseas for a pretty penny have increased the quality of my/our days tenfold), the residents of 4D wanted to pass out a few Valentine shoutouts, blog-style.

First and foremost, if you have even so much as glanced at any of my social media profiles, you know that my oldest sister Natalie had a baby girl, Brecken Marie, a week ago and I could not be more excited. Although it honestly really sucks to not be around, Nat spoils me with FaceTime and lots and lots of pictures and Brecken spoils me by being the cutest newborn I've ever laid eyes on. Brecken's birth was an exciting occasion in this part of the world, as she was born around 7 PM St. Louis time, meaning 3 AM Madrid time, meaning Mal and I watched Rent on Netflix while I stared at my phone as if that would make Brecken depart from my sister's womb at a faster rate... Anyway, the time finally came to FaceTime with my new sobrina and rest assured, Mal and I were both sobbing as we sat on my twin bed in the dark, using all of the tissues, and generally being very dramatic. So first Valentine goes to my niece and I'm just assuming Mal would give one to her adorable nephew Leo and Laura's sister is only 21 and doesn't have any babies, but she's mailing a letter to her grandma tomorrow, so there you have it I guess.

First meeting with Brecken (black square in left hand corner is a teary Renatta and Mal)

Our next Valentine goes to our host mom who we're calling Mari for now (but seriously what is her name?), who I could probz wax poetic about for a few hours, but I'll just share a few highlights....
-When we returned from Lisboa last week, we were telling her about our generous welcome into the "population of Portugal" (see Laura's blog post), and she went on a full-on rant about how ugly Portuguese men and women are (officially praying no Portugal natives are reading this, but if you are, I don't think she's been there for awhile or maybe she hasn't met you?) and that her ex-husband was Portuguese and had to marry a Spanish woman since there weren't any good Portuguese women out there... suffice to say, we were all in tears at the dinner table while she talked about gross mustaches, etc.
-Tonight at dinner, Laura was complaining about paying for printing (it actually is an outrage because it's a dollar a page and that kind of money could be used on coffee or day trips or hot dogs) and Mari was pissed, which we totally appreciated. She talked about how stupid that is for a good ten minutes, and we all nodded along vehemently, and for a few minutes I thought she was actually going to get up and call the school and give them an earful. She didn't, but maybe I'll bring it up again tomorrow night...
-A few nights ago, Laura rudely told Mari that I'm clumsy (although I seem to recall a certain someone wiping out on the streets of Lisboa....) and she laughed and said that we're so quiet at dinner unless we're making fun of each other. (For the record, that is only partly true.)
-Last night in Mal's and my bedroom we were all laughing far too loudly and far too obnoxiously about something that probably was not even remotely funny and Mari came flying in to check on us because she thought one of us crying, so yeah, she really is the best of the best (of the best).

A very heartfelt Valentine to chocolate con churros, which are even better than the sliced bread that we have three times a day (I know... the carbs... don't even get me started). On Sunday it was rainy and miserable and we three could have been disgustingly crabby but instead we chose to head into Sol to San Gines, a 24-hour chocolateria with pictures of famous Spanish people all over the walls that really could have just been regular old people for all we know, and this is such a run-on sentence that I'm just going to stop and start a new sentence. Can you guys even believe that my major is English? Anyway, we owe it to the Spanish for this phenomenal treat, so let's just throw a Valentine their way too.

A Valentine goes out to Cercedilla, the beautiful town where we got really lost in went hiking. I admit it was a little on the cold side, plus it started raining, but the views were unbeatable and there was a real live cow on the path and you just don't see that everyday, unless you're Mal and you're from Troy, Missouri. Also, we had one of our best lunches thus far in Cercedilla (the paella was the bomb.com) and had ice cream for dessert because ice cream is ice cream no matter how cold you are (and we were pretty cold).

What's better, that view or the bunny ears? 

An obligatory Valentine goes out to Laura's haircut that occurred literally feet from where I'm sitting on my bed as I type out these absolutely ridiculous sentences... I'm not kidding, Mal cut Laura's hair with craft scissors and there was hair everywhere on the floor so then she used my school supplies to sweep it up and the whole affair was honestly pretty janky, but Laura looks hella good, so it was worth it, and maybe Mal has a future in cosmetology if college gets too hard.

What's the opposite of a Valentine? (Am I seriously supposed to be capitalizing Valentine? I kinda think I'm not) Because we'd like to give like, at least eight of those to the scam website edreams.es, which we momentarily forgot we weren't supposed to be using when we booked our flights to Paris and let's just say we're all now out 150 Euros due to a flight home scheduled in March instead of February and I'm really, really sorry about that one, Dad.

Our final Valentine goes out to Mad-town itself because oh my gosh, do we love you and your 80 cent Principe cookies and delicious carrots and beautiful landmarks and decent weather and cute boys and cuter dogs and fantastic Metro system, etc, etc, and etc.

We love Madrid so much we're publishing this heinous photo taken months and months ago when we were still American.

This coming weekend we're going to Paris and let me tell you, we are pumped for the inevitable PDA every time we turn the corner. (On the real, Paris and Valentine's Day is a bit of a double-whammy so I'll admit that might have been poor planning on our part.) Let's just hope we don't make the French hate us even more than we already know they do.