Few things went as planned this morning. I headed out of the hostal at a few minutes before 9 and walked toward Kilómetro Cero, where I was supposed to meet my first ever intercambio partner. Halfway there I realized something: When she said to meet at 9, she probably meant 9 at night. I waited in the freezing cold for 20 minutes anyway and sure enough she never show up. 9 tonight it is. (Duh - 9 is pre-dinner here, of course she meant 9 at night).

While chilling in the room I saw on Telemadrid that the famous writer, director and actor Fernando Fernán Gómez (best known internationally for Belle Epoque) had died and the Teatro Real was holding a special memorial for him in just a few minutes. I thought about heading over there but decided against it. Turns out, the Teatro Real is literally around the corner from the hostal and I inadvertently walked right toward the swarm of TV cameras and interviewers.

Since then I´ve been relaxing in the Parque del Buen Retiro dining at the counter of the Corte Inglés (albóndigas, not bad). And now I´m all over Flickr - although it´s taking forever to upload stuff here. Descriptions probably won´t be done until I return, but enjoy the images.

I didn´t go to that intercambio last night but I did want a low key tapeo-ish experience, so I found a place really close to my hostal, La Casa del Abuelo, and had some super good sweet red wine. I was back at the hostal by midnight, when I stuffed my ears full of foam and kicked jetlag´s ass, sleeping until 9:30ish.

This morning I hit some of the major sights: the Palacio Real (didn´t go in - saving that for tomorrow´s rain) and the construction-filled Plaza Mayor. But the best part of the day definitely was dunking those long, thin churros into that rich chocolate drink at Chocolatería San Gines. I´ve tried to make this drink at home with mix, but always wound up having to dump it. The real deal is awesome.

When my hour here is up, I think I´m gonna check out a local chain of sandwich shops Jesús mentioned. Perhaps a bocadillo de chorizo?

So, I´m in Spain for two weeks. The flights from SF to NYC and then from NYC to Madrid were ... long. But I lucked out and had an empty middle seat each way. Empty or not, I´m just not feeling the 12 hours of flying in one day. I limited myself to about a 90-minute nap in my private (tiny, no-frills) room at the (tiny, no-frills but cheap -- for an euro establishment) hostal (not hostel). I´m hurting right now but I hope it pays off when I wake up tomorrow at, ojalà, a decent hour.

It´s rainy today and my socks and bags when soaked when I found the Hostal Prado, but I´m out and about, momentarily hanging out in a 1€/hour Internet cafe (really a locutorio) just off the Puerta del Sol. In a few minutes I´ll head out past the Tío Pepe sign to the famous Corte Inglés department store to browse. Then some food, some Televisión Española, some sock-drying and, probably, the weekly language exchange (intercambio) at the Irish pub that just happens to be one block from the hostal. I don´t know how good my Spanish will be toward the end of this long-ass day, but I think I´m gonna give it a go. Speaking of which, me voy.

New Year's Eve is a strange day. For a lot of people, it's a nuisance. There's so much build-up, so much money spent on outfits and party tickets, so much stress related to planning, getting friends with different opinions to come together. And in the end, usually, it's a disappointing evening that leaves you exhausted and dreading that return to the office on January 2.

I think everyone experiences that one perfect NYE. I had mine in Chico, Calif., of all places. I think/hope I also got my worst NYE out of the way. In a way, I'm thankful to have experienced NYE of 2005 because it takes the pressure off of future December 31sts. Last year, for example, was spent with one new friend and two of her pals, having burgers at a great diner, toasting at a Korean dive bar and relaxing at a pub before taking a bus back to her apartment. It was pretty typical for NYE: maybe one too many drinks, one too many $20 bills spent and, sadly, no kiss. But compared with the previous year's insanity, it was, well, lovely.

All that said, I am very much looking forward to this NYE. After talking about possible trips to Vegas and Cabo, I've settled on NYC. Jesús is coming with me, so I'll have someone to kiss, and I get to introduce him to some of the most important people in my life (something he's as excited as me about). I'm quite certain NYE of 2007 won't be ordinary or lackluster, but even if it is, you better believe I'll take it over the alternative.

This Chronicle story about tonight's 5.6 magnitude earthquake (the biggest I've ever felt - it was like riding a wave), is total lollerskatez. Shall I count the ways?

1. "I thought I was going to die," said Audi Andaya, 24, of San Jose, was working in a Subway sandwich store in the Eastridge Mall in east San Jose when the earthquake hit. "Dust started flying from the ceiling. It came down like smoke. It was like it was snowing.

"I thought, 'I don't want to die young. I don't want to die like this.' "

I know I was farther away than she was, but DAMN girl! This reporter found a winner.

2. In San Francisco's Westwood Park neighborhood near City College, the quake rattled Greg Clinton.

Westwood Park neighborhood? For realsies?

3. A clerk at Kwik and Convenient in Mipitas, who said his name is Suki Suki, said not much was damaged - except his psyche.

SUKI SUKI?

I often say things solely to shock people. When it comes to Kathleen, though, the game reaches another level. For example, today I was only slightly bothered by my Peet's coffee (I don't understand why the line is always out the door; that coffee is not good). Yet instead of telling Kathleen my coffee was gross, I said, "My coffee tastes like [name removed]'s taint smells." Totally unnecessary, but we both love it. My day isn't complete until Kathleen calls me a "sick fuck." And vice-versa.

Jesús gets loud when he's drunk. He doesn't realize this. And he'll argue with me when I point out that he's being loud. That causes him to become even louder. I think it's cute. It makes me chuckle, which prompts him to sheepishly half-smile and ask why I'm laughing at him (or sometimes, "Por qué te ries de mí?"). I think that's cute, too.

I'm currently obsessed with Jesse & Joy, a brother-and-sister duo from Mexico City whose single "Yo No Quiero" I heard on the radio nonstop when I was in Ensenada (made my poor mom listen to the local radio during our drives). I recently heard another of their songs on the Premios MTV. Apparently Joy's English is perfect and the group has put out an English-language version of "Espacio Sideral." Can't wait til I hear the studio version.

And now, a[n explicit] video: