Sometimes I Wish I Were Spanish.

I took Spanish in Jr. High for a couple years. But never got very good and basically just enjoyed clever banter with the teacher and learned cheesy romantic phrases I could say to people.

My favorites:

Hay nadie mejor que tu para mi
Mi corazon esta con usted
Espero que pronto este con tigo mi pichon
Sin ti mi corazon espinado
Biselo espera que veo por el momento su cara otra vez
Nuestro amor conquista todas las
Hasta que nuestros caminos se cruzan una vez más mi amor
Digo que mi último adios, quierdo
Besame tonto

Look 'em up.

And yes, I have successfully used these phrases writing letters to my friend in Bolivia. 

Whoever says French is the language of love--LIED. Spanish totally is.

I know this from personal experience.

Those Latin men.....they just love me for some reason.

Let me tell you a story.

Well.....two five.

1) Once upon a time I went to Saint George with my bestie for a weekend. We enjoyed reading of Elvis and swimming in the pool with her cousins. Very casual. Relaxed. Summer vacation.

As we enjoyed the warm air and sat on chairs talking to one another, a Latin family continued to pass us to and from the pool. We waved cordially each time they did. But I suppose they took this as an invitation to come and hang out with us for four hours. Ya, FOUR HOURS. Three Latin boys show up half an hour later on the grass hill in front of us and don't say anything. They just sit down and watch Hannah and I read (I didn't think it could be that entertaining, but who knows?!). So after a couple seconds we stop reading and give a friendly hi. Making conversation was a little hard since none of them spoke. When they did get a couple words out, we knew they could speak English and Spanish.

We asked them about their life. But....honestly I don't think they were that interested in talking. Just watching. So....We improvised. "Wanna play a card game?"

They did.

Anyway, the entire four hours we hung out with them they really hardly said anything. It's what happened afterward that was interesting.

Maggie and her friend (Thirteen year old cheerleaders. Use your imagination) came out as soon as they realized three boys were talking to Hannah and I. They exchanged numbers and after the boys went home texted them late into the night (Social life these days....Sheesh).

Hannah and I wake up in the morning to find that all three boys had a crush on us.

Oh crimony.

Ridiculous? Yes. They wanted to know where we lived so we could all hang out again. NO WAY. They were all under 16 anyway! I am no cougar (schoolwise--yes. Just not in that sense).

Apparently they thought we were beautiful and wonderful and smart and funny.

(I might have been flattered if I wasn't 3 years older than them).

2)  Once upon another time, my brother was really good at soccer (still is for that matter). He had a couple boys on his team that were Latin. Fun, cute kids. (Notice the word kids). They came over for a birthday party. Hannah and I were hanging out in my room when three of them appeared downstairs. One whispers (I'm not sure if it was to himself or to us).

"Pretty ladies"

The other pointed to a picture.

"Is this you? Beautiful. Your eyes are so beautiful"

More compliments.

Something about Hannah being a romantic. The boys girlfriend back home. How they speak Spanish fluently.

We talk for a few moments. Then they leave. Their final words:

"dormir con la noche los ángeles"
(Sleep with the Angels tonight. Nice huh?)

3) Once upon a time I went to the gym (still do for that matter too). I went with my mom and dad and we decided to take a good round in the steam room. Finished with my workout a few minutes earlier than them, I went ahead without them. I got in my swimsuit and entered the steam filled room, sat across from a man (the steam room is super awkward because there's just a bunch of old men and nobody talks because you go to relax). As soon as I sit down, he stands up.

Huh?

He walks over and sticks out his hand.

Being the polite person I am, I shake it.

He pulls me up off the chair and gives me a HUGE HUG. This is not what I was asking for. And what's worse, a forest of hair is on his back.

Blek.

He pulls away and sits down RIGHT next to me. He starts asking me about Christmas and family, etc. Meanwhile, I take a good look at him.

He's in his late forties I'd say. Definitely older than my dad. Latin. Hairy. And lonely.

Ricardo's his name. Perfect.

He continues to inch closer to me and I feel slightly uncomfortable how he says he doesn't have family to spend Christmas with when....

My Dad walks in!

HALLELUJAH!!

I say (louder than normal. Which is loud. Because normally I am pretty loud) "Hey, DAD!".

The next ten minutes were spent in complete awkwardness as Ricardo jumps up with fright and slides ten feet away from me until he finally just leaves the steam room.

4) Once upon a time I went to a Latin Jazz dance at BYU and danced....Latina for a couple hours. This boy(I should say man) Lamoni wanted to take me out. Well...until he learned I was still a sophmore in high school.

5) Once upon a time a couple hours ago (this is where we get to today), I was at AF high for Region Solo/Ensemble festival, and what do you know?! I sang a Spanish song. BEAUTIFUL. Nana, by Manuel De Falla.

Listen: (and pretend it's me singing)


(Notice the fire burning in the background throughout the piece. Mmm.)

I was already in the Latin mood, when once again, a Latin boy hits on me outside of class.

I just don't know what it is with those guys.

But hey, they got guts. And a certain Latin spirit. I've always kind of wanted to dance around in a red and white dress with flowers in my hair and be all spicy and sing Spanish love songs.

But, alas, it is not so.

I think it's best if I keep away from those situations considering my history with Latin men.

Adios.

P.S. Today's my half-birthday! And you know what that means!!!! (I don't either....but it's fun anyway)