8a in a Friday, when there are no classes on my floor, I listen to Bowie's Hunky Dory. This Friday, there was a man in the hall sweeping,singing old spainish songs in a low, sad melody. It reminded me of my great grandmother, and how she always used to tell the story the story of when I was a baby, and she could only get me to sleep to old spainish ballads. It embarrassed me so much then, but now these songs make me sad. I remember her words and her stories, but I can't remember her voice.