Where in the World is Tim?

I have only twice in my life ever seen someone get the first question wrong on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire". I do not regularly watch the show, but I am led to believe it is not a common occurrence. Most recently I saw an internet clip of some poor college student (who I fear will remain poor) definitavely declaring that household surge protectors protected against surges of water. Maybe he can work for FEMA. The other poor sap I ever saw fail so readily was back in the days of Regis. This person had never heard the saying "sick as a dog" before and therefore guessed it went "sick as a fish". Well thats how I felt yesterday, "sick as a fish".

I guess in an effort to make my trip to Granada more interesting, the New Gods decided to get me sick. And I'm not talking about a sore throat, stuffy nose kind of sick. I'm talking about the kind where you can neither stay awake or asleep, can't keep anything inside your body (and I think you'll thank me to omit the details here), perpetually drenched with sweat, having fever dreams that you are being tortured by a sentient star because you uncovered the conspiracy plans it had to control the world through IES even though you both know full well there is nothing you could ever do to stop the plans of such a powerful entity from coming to fruition. You know, the fun kind of sick.

I don't know if it was food poisoning or some sort of bug or if this is what Lupis is, but it sucks. And yesterday was our last day at the hotel, so we had to check out at noon. So while the rest of the group took (what I heard was actually a pretty low key and boring) tour of the old city, I was hanging out on a couch in the lobby for eight hours. But I had the evil star to keep me company, so I didn't get lonely. Although it's funny what goes through your mind at times like that. I didn't get my priorities in order or find religion or anything. I just kept thinking about what I guess is the only part of "Little Women" I remember. The part where Beth is sick with Scarlet Fever and (spoiler warning) she dies. Not the most comforting thought now that I come to reflect.

By the evening, perhaps because my immune system was starting to fight back, or because my body had nothing left in it to reject (though boy howdey did it try) I was feeling, if not better, then less bad. The nausia had lessened, but I just felt so weak. Not only could a stiff breeze have blown me over, but someone saying the words "stiff breeze" in my general vicinity would have caused me to topple. I have never felt anything quite like the lack of strength I felt then. I honestly believe that is what Kryptonite exposure must feel like. Simply waiting on line for check in at the airport was a harrowing experiance (but isn't it always).

To avoid subjecting you all to any more of my self pitty I'll make a long story short and just point out that I got home in one piece. But I'm taking today off. I'm still a far cry from healthy. Luckily I have Batman, Superman, Watchmen, and Smallville (if it ever finishes "shmillegally shmownloading"... crack that code coppers) to keep me company today. I've even started to introduce solid foods to my system again just to see what happens.

Other than that last day, Granada was really cool. I'm so unbelievably glad I was not sick for the day we went to the Alhambra. And I got to see a flamenco show done by real gypsies in a cave. I think Granada is the Ithaca of Spain though. All the GW people here in Barcelona who are used to living in a big city like DC and going clubbing and whatnot were saying that Granada was too small to have kept them entertained for a semester. And while I dont mind it here in Barcelona, there is something to be said for having a more intimate city. Granada, like Ithaca, is also filled with filthy hippies.

-Tim