Just being a tourist

All Sunday and Monday I spent working on my paper for Esthetics of Representation. It was on Battleship Potemkin, by Sergei Eisenstein…. lots of montage. I made a real solid outline so I could right it quick and easy after our trip to Montserrat on Tuesday, leaving all Wednesday to study for my History of Cinema exam. Sydney and I managed to make time for a romantic sushi dinner and we even splurged on THE MOST DELICIOUS COCKTAILS. We also ended up getting a free glass ofchampagne when the weight forgot to order one of the roles, woohoo.

We (Sam, Sydney and I) decided to meet at the Espanya metro stop at 10:30 to take the renfe (basically the commuter rail equivalent) to Montserrat. We spent a good twenty minutes deciding which ticket packet to buy so we ended up missing the first train at 10:36. We ended up for the middle of the road ticket, opting out of the included meal and entry to the Montserrat museum. We spent all our waiting time and train ride talking about going home—what we wanted to do, what we were most excited about, exactly who was picking up at the airport and when…everything. Sydney cried and Sam and I compared the anticipated greeting from our ten year old brothers, apparently hers is going the ‘I’m-to-cool” phase. Jake, that best not be you, or no presents, I want a big-ass hug and screaming. I want you to be so happy that airport security kicks us out. Got it!
We then took a funicular from the train station up to Montserrat itself, the views were amazing, but still nothing compared to the very top, after the second funicular. We did that first, up to the hiking trails were monks had built a bunch of hermitages in the past, most of which are in ruins now. We opted out of the hikes since we had no sneakers and lots of studying. It was still beautiful and we mastered the technique of self-timer, balancing the camera on rocks. There are two mountains and the monastery and museum are in the middle of it. You can see huge crosses on either mountain out on a cliff; it’s an incredible image. We went into the abbey. It is a Benedictine abbey, called “Santa Maria de Montserrat” and has an amazing history. The short story is that the virgin Mary appeared here in a cave, a bit below where the abbey itself is, which is why an abbey was established here. Both Napoleon and Franco (Spanish dictator in the mid 1900s) were detrimental to the abbey. Sorry for the history lesson. There is a wooden statue of the virgin in the abbey where pilgrims, and now tourists too, travel to see. The abbey itself is impressive, reminiscent in the cathedral itself of Santa Maria del Mar, a cathedral near me, but it’s definitely grander. There are lanterns everywhere along the walls after you pass through the entrance that is marked by a fresco/sculpture of Jesus and the twelve apostles. Every lantern seems to be different, in the room devoted to St. Ignatius (go BC!!) there are lanterns that are birds nest, in another more austere room, the lamps are more modern and simple…without being out of place. There wasn’t a huge rose window that is usually a cathedrals claim to fame, but the stained glass was still beautiful. My favorite was in a room that had an alter covered in flowers and the window with angels. Another room had a modern sculpture sort of thing of Jesus, It is hard to describe so I’ll put in a picture, but it was so cool for lack of a better term.
After going down to a simple, but elegant chapel/crypt we went up to the statue of the Virgin Mary, in a small room above and behind the main altar in the cathedral. I was BLOWN AWAY... it was absolutely stunning. I am going to include a video so you can see for yourself, but it still doesn’t do it justice. The rest of the cathedral was beautiful and made the hour or so tip to Montserrat totally worth it. I especially loved the candles, which are usually inside the cathedral, lining a walkway carved into the mountain around the outside of the abbey.
Tuesday night was Barcelona’s biggest celebration for Dia de San Juan, lots of bonfires and firecrackers. Lots of people using firecrackers that shouldn’t, literally we were advised to avoid wearing flammable clothing. It was an awesome night. All of us went to the beach around eleven and watched great fireworks with a bottle of cava while people played drums and guitar around us. Very Barcelona, even little kids were out till 4 am. On Wednesday we had our last group trip with our guide in Barcelona. We went to Tibidabo, which also boasts an amazing view of Barcelona, the best of the city I would say. We went to the amusement park at the top, which is no six flags, but just as fun. The small park has a few levels one focused on the few more modern rides, then the older, classic attractions like merry-go-rounds. It was a blast. We went on all the rides, and we definitely almost threw up on a few of them, even one that look like charming little swing. SURPRISE, it wasn’t you feel like you are going to be catapulted into the sky over Barcelona, the fact that it was on a mountain side made everything feel more intense. The highlights were the bumper cars and ferris wheel. All of us, eleven people, went on and partnered up. I was with Bridget, who can be just as aggressive as I am and we dominated. I did loose control of the car at one point, apparently when you turn the wheel a lot it goes backwards, we caused a lot of damage with that. The best was when I gave an Italian man whiplash. All of the sudden the whole path in front of us cleared, which is rare in bumper cars, and we picked up a bit too much momentum…. BAM, his flowing gray hair flew about, ahahhahahahahahaha. We went on the ferris wheel last. Julio, Alex and I where in one seat and saw amazing views of the city. I think I had my best moment in Barcelona when we were getting off the ride. The guy had been giving me eyes and when he said something to us getting out of our seat, I completely miss heard him. He said ‘give me a kiss’ (forward, but not in Barcelona), I was so shocked and disoriented I rammed my head on one of the overhead bars. Julio was laughing so hard he couldn’t breath. I was like ‘Julio, did you hear that oh-my-gosh, blah blah’. He says ‘Whaaaat?”, and I told him. That’s when I found out that he actually said watch your head…wow. It was a great finally to our time in Barcelona.
Thursday I had my last exam, after studying till 4 a.m. I was lucky that half of us are in the class and we all decided to wake each other up. Then I was done!!!! We went to turn in our final paper and went to the beach…. glorious! That night we went to our favorite places, since it was a bunch of peoples last night. Crepes del Born was first and hanging out in Born, then to Jamboree.
Yesterday I spent ALL day packing, trying to manipulate the luggage and clothes so nothing is overweight. It was a bit overwhelming, but now I am done and get to enjoy the rest of the weekend without stress.
I can’t believe there are just two days left. TWO DAYS!!! What the heck?

No hay bastante tiempo!

Wait, should I be laughing right now?

That’s generally what goes through my head when there is communal laughing in class here, because us Americans just don’t get the jokes. What’s worse is that we are in our last class and I just cannot focus, as the profe goes from Catala to Castellan, and back to Catala. Dios mios! FYI, castellano is another way to say Spanish, as in the language. They get sensitive sometimes, especially here and in the other culturally unique autonomous regions, when you say ‘Spanish’, because they are Spanish too, even if they have their own language (i.e. catala, gallego, etc.)

It is quite a challenge to get myself to class in these last days; it feels like a crime to be in class, with everything I feel like I still have to do…like go to the beach. Ahem, I mean go to the contemporary art museum, Montjuic, Montserrat, the huge national art museum, and actually go inside the Gaudi buildings (if I can afford it when all is said and done). Uuuf…. so much to do. Also, I like the Spanish guttural noises better than ours, more dramatic, and they sound less like vomiting, no more ‘uhhg’ for me.

So, I finished my first exam, which was my biggest, and I felt great about it…. both in being done with it, and in how well I think I did. Now I have two finals left, a final paper and an exam. For my estetica de representacio (esthetics of representation) I have to write a five-page paper analyzing a movie, or one scene, by Godard, Einstein, or Resnais. This shouldn’t be too difficult, and is actually interesting. I’m positive I have learned more researching the paper than in the actual class. The charming old professor is completely incoherent—welcome to Spain. I’m writing about Battleship Potemkin, by Einstein… a quick, and apparently revolutionary, silent film. My next final is for Historia del Cine. The run of the mill exam covering the themes and movies we have covered over the trimester, we’ll see how that goes, I think I have a false sense of confidence about it. These are both for Thursday, the 25th, and then I have three full days left before my early morning trip to the airport on Monday. Yikes.

Despite the stress, I am still enjoying myself. We had our farewell dinner on Thursday at a place called Habaluc. The food is super fresh and super delicious. We got a bunch of appetizers: brown rice and spicy guacamole, Mediterranean salad, tomato/mozzarella salad, ravioli stuffed with yummy cheese and mushrooms. For dinner I got a chicken roll, and yes a roll, not a wrap, it had a ton of curry and was so delicious, but I had to save room for the tiramisu dessert....yum. The picture at the top is Jess(my neighbor) and I at dinner. Aside from the excitmenet of the farewell dinner, when we go out, we try to go to a new place every night on top of our group dinners to hang on to every last Barcelona moment we have together. Two girls have a balcony and a few times a week we have a communal dinner where a few people cook and we all chip in a few euros. Last night was Cuban food and mojitos, and the locals in the residencia didn’t even yell at us to be quiet! The time before was burgers, delicious burgers, sort-of like the ones Jen makes with the meat all-full of treats. We also had some delish pasta salads and ……… to make up for the BYOB.

Along with the new things, we still manage to frequent our favorite places. Sunday nights are always George Payne’s and Kennedy Irish Sailing club. Kennedy’s has great live music, I haven’t been that many times, but George Payne (a.k.a GPs) is our favorite. Sunday is karaoke night, and we never fail to deliver ☺ Last night we had some real crowd pleasers: “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” from our girl Whitney H., then “That Way” flashback to junior-high with the Backstreet Boys, “Don’t Stop Believin’ ” BC’s journey favorite and my duet with Molly, among others. We also were very supportive when other people sucked, as in we sang loudly over them (Eminem’s “Loose Yourself” and obviously they couldn’t handle Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On”).

A week ago my friend Sydney and I went to Jamboree four nights in one week. We are obsessed with Jamboree, no exaggeration. This place is in a plaza near La Rambla, not too far from us. The first floor—

—WAIT… they’re clapping?? I’m writing this while I’m in class (don’t judge me) as the professor is finishing up the lecture, the last lecture, and suddenly the class bursts into applause. Whahh? And the professor keeps giving quick little bows. Catalans are so weird.

Anyway, the second floor, which is were you first enter, is a good mix of 80’s, 90’s and some good classics (classic rock, classic anything, mo-town, just not actual classical music). There is usually a bit of an older crowd up here but at least the Spaniards are actually dancing. You might think all Spanish people have incredible rhythm and just can’t resist a smooth rhythm, but it is not the case. Young people don’t dance much unless they are drunk or over-sexed 19 year-olds because they want to be mature and cool…so they do a sort of sway move. Okay, and I realize I might be a bit of an overzealous dancer, but really…swaying and two-stepping to ‘Right Round’ (Flo Rida) or ‘Thunderstruck” (ACDC) is just unacceptable. The slightly older crowds are far more relaxed, probably less concerned with the whole “impressing peers” and “attracting mates” thing. You see all kinds on the first floor, and it is a good break from the hip/hop, reggaeton, and current pop you get on the first floor. The music is awesome on the first floor too. I have destroyed two pairs of pants due to my hard-core dance moves, but that’s okay…they were old and now there is more room in my suitcase ☺

I want to apologize for the excessive use of parenthesis and quotation marks… I don’t speak or write English anymore. Sorry. I keep catching myself using ‘j’ for ‘h’ sounds, maybes because that is how Spanish is, or I am just dense. You know we would write ‘hahahaha’, well they write ‘jajajajaja’….silly. Okay, I have to write my paper, I have been far to distracted and a found a perfect source, along with a new friend in the library. My new friend is actually a class mate that I have accidentally stared at a lot since she sits in front of me and a little to the left in Art History. We had a really awkward ‘Are you in line?’ conversation when I was trying to get the book I had reserved, luckily she isn’t nearly as awkward as I am and sort-of chatted me up. Then we connected on the whole ‘Art History’ thing, I gave her some advice for the exam and we exchanged e-mails. Her family is coming to Boston this summer and one of her good friends is there for the whole summer. Yay for being a tour guide!

Okay! Love love love and I’ll see you IN A WEEK!

CADAQUES

So my parents are way smarter than me, and told me to go on a group trip to Cadaques, despite my distaste for the organizational skills of college students. Okay, okay, okay—I confess, I also am a control freak (to an extreme degree). Anywho, it was awesome.

Cadaques is a little place tucked into the mountain on the northern coast of Spain in Catalunya, called La Costa Brava. It is north of Barcelona and about an hour and forty-five minute train ride, then forty-five minute motion sickness testing bus ride through the mountains. I left after class Friday and got there around seven I think, after a very sweaty transit. Sweaty. Sweaty, because I ran to the Passeig de Gracia metro stop where you get the Renfe train to Figueres.
View Larger Map Look at the map in case you were doubting the extreme running I did. The train itself is barely, if at all air-conditioned. Not good with all those Europeans in hot weather. Then I just barely made the bus from Figueres to Cadaques. The information deskman seemed helpful, except NOT. I’ll spare you the details of that interaction, but needless to say, I also ran to the bus. The bus ride was gorgeous, but also gut wrenching. In case you were wondering driving in a BIG bus on narrow, climbing mountain roads is scary. I also can’t say much for the sanitary condition of the bus. I also discovered the presence of highway prostitutes; these Europeans are so innovative!
The girl in our group who was on the bus with me and I also had some issues locating the apartment in Cadaques, granted it is small, but you still need more direction than ‘follow the signs to the centre of town’. My anxieties of travelling with kids my own age was realized, but we did manage to get there after a bit of a hike from the road to the apartment.



The apartment was beautiful, mostly because of the view, but for what we spent the accommodation were great. In the end there were enough sleeping areas between the eleven of us (utilizing couches and armchairs). That first night we made a delish dinner: steak tips, potatoes, salad, and garlic bread. YUM. We get really excited about cooked food since we are limited to our temperamental hotplates. We had a nice, noisy dance party before we hit the town. Apparently Cadaques has some things in common with Province town—small and large gay population. The problem was that it was so apparent which bars were gay bars, so we got a bit miffed when a bar owner told us “Mujeres no pueden quedar aqui sin comprando bebidas”…essentially girls had to buy drinks, a lot of them. No thanks. We had more fun in the apartment anyway…more space, and all the music we wanted.
The next morning I was the egg lady; my secret fried-egg cooking talents were discovered. We were at the beach by 12, and it was beautiful. The town was incredibly quaint, reminiscent of the cape or Martha’s Vineyard, but a European version. The water was incredibly clear and calm, perfect since it was SO hot out. We applied sun block liberally in between swimming expeditions to the boys and working on the sandcastle fortress. We probably should have worn American flag shirts that day. I’m okay with it.
Dinner was chicken scampi and yummy rice. All thanks to Sydney, who is an awesome cook. That night we stayed in the apartment then hung out at the house of some people (three couples around 50) we had met. The lived right above the path behind our place, and had a pool! They interrogated us about colleges in the US since they had some 17 year olds. It was an amazing night and we didn’t get to bed until 6 a.m. Now, that time isn’t that unusual in Barcelona, but I have to say I didn’t think I could be that entertained for that long with 50 year old (aside from my mom and dad of course!)
I was egg-lady again on Sunday and we relaxed a bit before cleaning up the apartment. We walked around town a bit after we gave back the key. It is such a small, small place—interesting the people live there, permanently. We were back in Barca by 5:30, after another sweaty train ride, and I have been doing homework ever since.
My first exam is Thursday, my biggest one. I don’t think I have enough room in my brain for all the stuff I need to remember. Silly art history. But, the good news is that my hardest one will be over first. My next two are the 25th: one is an exam, another a paper. The paper is just 5 pages! I can’t believe that. A five-page final. I don’t think I’ll ever higher someone from Europe if I’m in a position to, but it is good news for me!

Okay, back to work, I have a meeting with the Art History TA in 20 minutes. Blech. Oh, btw……SEE YOU IN 13 DAYS!!!

xxxxxx

WOAH!!!!

It is a glorious day, and you know I'm devoted to do you, because the beach is calling me. I suppose I have had my fare share of beach enjoyment here. I start bike riding from Barceloneta to Rio de Besos (I think that is its name). It isn't too far on a map, but MAN are there some hills. What I love abotu bike riding here is that people actually use those little 'ding-ding' bells on the bikes. I might abuse mine, but it's okay because there's a lot of pedestrian traffic. We rode though the olympic area the other day and they were having, well I don't remember because I don't speak english anymore, but with like dirtbikes on big dirty hills getting dirty and crashing. I guess I would've thought that would only be in America.
My beach time this weekend was rudely interrupted by school work, yechhh. My first exam is on the 18th so I've begun organizing my notes, no small task for an art history course. The other two are on the 25th, and as of now, far less daunting. I also I have this online chemistry course, to fulfill the core requirement at BC. It is extremelly weird doing studd (ie elementary chemistry) that I did in high school, but the plus is that I remember some of it....and OWNED my quiz. Yes, the quiz was open-book, but I still owned it.
Enough academics. I made the most delicious dinner the other night, and I mean gourmet, italics and all. I was determined to prove my cooking talents to my friend who never lets me help with dinner, or they pretend to let me help. Let's just say I wash a lot of dishes and chop a lot of veggies (if even that). First things first-the sangria. I used slightly fruity red wine (and no, Im not an expert.. it said that on the label and I know i dont like dry or over fruity), then I added lots of oranges, lemons, limes, oj and some cointreau that my friend had. The chicken breasts marinated over night in an orange/lemon/carrot juice, cointreau, olive oil, lots of orange slices, and some salt and pepper. The salad was simply red pepper, onion, orang chunks, and goat cheese. I 'made' a salad dressing-oj, red wine vinager, olive oil, salt/pepper.....nothing too fancy, but it was perfect. Perhaps even better than the salmon I've made here, it was so dleicious, also because it was extremely hot out and cirtus just equals summer.
What doesn't equal summer is smoke. Jen, I have some bad news, there's been a loss....you housewarming dishtowel has-how can i put this-expired. I tried to cook my dish towel this morning, it was pretty traumatic. I was boiling water for oatmeal and aparently both cook tops were on. The moral of the story, universities in the US are correct in banning hot plates. All the sudden the towel was smoldering, and i mean like with little bits of fire, but my quick thinking fire safety skills saved me, thank god for elementary school. I tossed the towel in the sink and turned the water on, but judging by my new chemistry skills on carbon monoxide, I think the smoke was at harmful levels. Now, now now..... it wasn't actually dangerous, but jiminy, it was a bit intense. My room just loves natural disasters, fires, floods....ok, that's it. I had like three calls from the office telling me to open my window. Here is a picture of the carnage.Hello, duh I opened my window.
My paper chain countdown is getting scarily short. What am I gonna do without my Barcelona? ohhh, I know....buffalo chicken. But I'll still miss my favorite family of ducklings that lives in the park across from me. I may or may not miss the homeless people with pets, no matter how endearing their bond is.




Me voy!! besitos

And then there were three weeks...

So then Momma Time!

I did some hardcore cleaning before, as you, washing number three in Barcelona. I pretty much spend all day Friday waiting for it to be time for me to go to the airport. We met in London and then on to Barcelona on Monday. The flight was glorious, mind you I am used to flying the cheapest of cheap economy airlines, and this time I was on British Airways. I really showed how classy I was when they offered me a sandwich and I asked if I had to pay for it, I got quite a look, but I still took advantage of the mini bottle of wine I got ‘free’. Well, duh, I ate all of the little dinner/lunch they gave me, but was still totally ready for real food at dins with Momsie. She was ready and waiting with a new friend to take our picture (the one up top) as soon as I got off the plane, so don’t worry…the trip is well documented.



That first night was amazing, yum dinner, nice clean hotel room, and TELEVISION. I don’t think you really understand what it is like not having television, and I am not even someone that watches that much television. If I didn’t take the time to load news podcasts, I would have no idea what was going on in the world, and I didn’t really start doing that until the end of March since it takes so long to download here. My contact with the outside world is NBC Nightly News, ABC World News, and Meet the Press…I might actually be more informed since it is the only ‘TV’ that is readily available. I digress… the next day we went to a gorge flower shower, apparently very famous.Mom abused her new camera while I tried to feed my Pimms cocktail to the gorilla garden statues. I’m not sure how all the 'proper' British gardeners felt about that. The next highlight was dinner and a show. The restaurant, called Sarastro, was loco, carnival/circus/theatre themed. The image only gives a preview how how much velour they really used inside. You couldn’t look anywhere without seeing some random trinket. I saw a spray-painted heal on the edge of the stairwell and little men or ballet shoes hanging from the ceiling fans. Not really little men, but that would’ve been great. Then we saw Wicked at the Apollo (I think) Theatre, it was a-m-a-z-i-n-g, despite extreme difficulty and figuring out where it was. The lack of a sense of direction, teamed with the fact that we were following my cell clock, which was an hour later, made it all very interesting. This might be Mom's favourite picture, she likes to say it looks like I am throwing up, which I might have been. We got there an hour early, but thought we were only just making it, which confused us a lot since no one else was waiting to get in when we go to the theater.

Sunday was my job to plan. Though I was very hardcore tour guide for the whole visit.There are about 10 photos like this of me (here at the palace in London) attending to my duties. I have to say, Mom did quite well keeping up with the psycho-college-traveler-pace. After some English sausage (I don’t want to talk about it, because there is a haunting image Mom took of me in the crisp, white hotel sheets, and it is horrifyingly similar. No, i will not post it on here). The tower was first on the list, and completely fascinating. We didn’t go in, but I’m pretty sure I could be an official tour guide as long as I can use the tour book and Wikipedia on my blackberry. Even though there were crown jewels there, I was far more fascinated seeing the gate from the Thames to the moat where they dropped of the people to be killed. We also saw The Globe Theatre, or a reconstruction of it. Super cool. Mom learned how nerdy I truly am in my love of Shakespeare; I try to keep it on the DL. Mom sucked me in to watching her new favorite movie that night, P.S. I Love You. I recommend it if you want to start drooling over any Irish musician you encounter, not that rare in Barcelona. Ok well, I still consider meeting two good odds.
I was much better prepared for the high-class, pre-packaged sandwich offer I got on the flight home. We were at the hotel by six and it felt great to be back in Barca air. I brought Mom to my favorite Italian restaurant, the have the best pizza. While she was here, Barca’s futbol team (a.k.a. soccer, for you gringas, as my Latin American friends call me) had it s equivalent of the Superbowl, The Champion’s League Cup. FCBarcelona has won each of the three, and I believe only possible, that it had this season. It is truly amazing to witness in a culture that is consumed by its love of this sports. The Boston fans, however intense they are, have nothing on these people. Mom and I went to a restaurant near the hotel on Carrer Princessa, Princessa 23; where they have the only nachos I will ever eat again in my life. We watched most of the game there over dinner, but finished watching in the hotel room so we would be the casualties of amateur celebratory firecrackers. Poor mom who had to leave at five the next morning had to hear all of Barcelona celebrating. Even on my walk home Thursday morning, there where people Barca jersey on and cervesa in hand.





We went to our favorite places in Barca while she was here, Caelum (the monastery pastry café), Princessa 23 (remember? The nacho place), shoe stores, and Buenas Migas on the beach< (really good veggie focaccia pizza and cappuccino). Yes, that's us in love on the beach next to all the topless sunbathers. My favorite new place we went to was El Bosc de las Fades. The same people that run the wax museum own the bar, so you can guess it’s pretty unique own the bar. As soon as you walk in you feel like you are in a forest; chilled, water running, trees and low lighting. Throughout the bar there are little surprises, near our table there was a mermaid in a small pond between two trees with a waterfall. We also went to La Sagrada Familia (Templo Expiatorio de la Sagrada Familia in catalan, Expiatory Temple of the Holy Family), the cathedral by Gaudi. I also played tour guide here. The picture you can see if of the east façade showing the nativity. Then i made her take a nice llong walk around El Raval, another barrio, or neighbourhood, of Barcelona. Raval is on the other side La Rambla from me, and known for an eccelctic culture and population (lots of immigrants and young people there). We also saw these sassy motos there. Gimme. I think Mom’s favorite is still Caelum, I will never forget how good that marzipan cake was the first time, to say nothing of the anillo galletas (ring cookies) made with anisette. We also found espadrilles, a typical Spanish style shoe. My generous Mommy—wink, wink—found an awesome pair, I pretty wear them everyday, so much that I might need a back-up pair. We also found a great guitar group in front of the cathedral, off of Via Laitana. I think we could be satisfied listen to spanish guitar or something like it for the rest of our lives. The group is called Guitarras Nocturnas, and I actually see the two guys on the left at the beach all the time. Then she left me. THE HORROR! But with plenty of coffee to last me ‘till the end of June.

Wait, what? The end of June? As in the 21 days, three weeks end of June? That’s right, my flight is in three weeks from today! Buffalo chicken orgy, here I come!

Guess what I did for the third time in Barcelona?

Busy, Busy, Busy.

I finally was able to figure out when my exams were, no thanks to my professors. AND I had my first discussion group for Art History on Friday, I can’t say I participated very much but I was at least able to understand-I’ll take it! I also I have had no issues finding the movies for my cinemas class online, so far, but this at least gets rid of the time conflict I had with Art History. Ultimately, I am enjoying all my classes even if it is just because they are esthetically pleasing, movies and pretty pictures. I have to say it is pretty cool to be watching the older films that are considered just landmark works, no just in Spain but globally, and I had no idea they existed.
And phew, I finally got my summer course at UMass Boston figured out. I had to get my ID number online by entering in Birthday, last name, SS#. The problem was, I didn’t give them my social security number, if there is anything my father taught me it’s not to give that shit out. Now, apparently I do have to do it sometimes, which I learned when I would just leave that part of job application blank, I mean I’m not going to get my social security anyway, but I guess it can go a little to far. Regardless, I finally got my ID number after e-mailing the silly woman four times and calling once, I guess some universities are as bad with communication as my uni in Barcelona.
I’ve also become much more European—I bought a futbol! (a.k.a. a soccer ball, pshhhh, for all you americanos). I even have sports injuries! I got burn/scrape on my big toe because the usual venue is in my room with out shoes on. On Tuesday Chris and I took a loooong bike ride to good place to play where there aren’t a lot of people, and I again I didn’t have shoes on—ouch!—and I also fell flat on my ass so there was a nice ripe bruise there, ahem. I’ve already ripped the ball up, not that it was exactly high quality. The guy tried to sell it to me for 10 euro, and I already knew I could get a prettier (and better quality) one for eight euro, so I said “No, gracias” and walked out. Of course he said “Better deal for you pretty lady, eight euro”, and I did the same thing until he asked me how much I wanted to pay… “Cuatro (Four) euro”, he said no, seven and then gave to me because I started to leave again. Look at me! I don’t know whether this surprises you or not, but I hate bartering. Mom and Jen know if they remember how inept I was in New York. You see, the problem is that I am incredibly cheap, or I at least love a bargain, a really good one, so I immediately low ball…too low. Anyway, I also bought a set of watercolors, my creative energies are a little cramped, but this is doing the trick even if it is the same watercolors I used when I was three.
Fatty got a package, a package full of treats. Some chocolate, SpecialK bars, saltwater taffy (gone), and best of all—COFFEE! I also did something actually productive—aside from make the most delicious salmon the other night—I did laundry! This marks the third time I have done laundry since I have been in Barcelona. Don’t throw up; I’m just being economical. Somehow I still managed to fit it all in two was loads and one dry load despite having to drag it down the stairs in my top sheet. So presently my room is still covered in laundry. I don’t use the dryer since fresh works just as well, and half the time the dryers wont dry all that I would need to shove in them. I just do towels and sheets, etc. I also cleaned my room, and I mean cleaned. You know its hard core when I though out American magazines. But, here’s the thing…I have a special visitor… MAH MOMMA’S COMIN!!! A romantic weekend in London, starting tomorrow and then fatty’s coming to Barcelona where I will expose her to all the is the beach in Barcelona.

Hasta luego queridos!

Splurge

Had my usual routine today...Historia del Cine from 9 to 11 and tried really hard not to forget my meeting with a prof at 12:30. There were all of 30 people in class this morning, of probably fifty, which isn't unusual. I learned about realism when I wasn't busy wondering at how skinny my profesor is...I swear he and Jake(the bro) are the same size.
The meeting was for the craziness that is my art history class. I met with the TA slash other professor, it's still unclear as she is called Professor Roser Bosch, but they all want to be called by their first name. I avoid it all, a 'Hey You' is quite suitable, because how the hell do you pronounce Bosch, considering all the languages going on here.... is it spanish, is it catalan, is it portuguese....? She was superly nice and I get to write a paper over that I missed. We bonded about studying abroad and art and talked about the art/ceramics/scultpure I do back at home. So the good news is I'm not overly frightened to actually participate in class.
Then we went on an excursion! Jess, Sydney, and I ran to a Tabacs (basically like a tedeschis but much more european and taboccoey), then mailed letters, euro store and a treat! I as usual am enthralled by the euro store and have to be talked out of everything, even doctor's kits. But i did get a tupperware like thing for liquid, a.k.a beach sangria. It is glorious, and doesn't it just make it look fresh and delicious! I used an orange, an apple, like a cup of OJ, shot a rum, strawberries, and a cinnamon stick. Get this, I got 1.75 euro wine instead of .75 cent wine. SPLURGE!!!!!!!!! Then I just went crazy. I took out a new sponge AND a new cutting board. HOLD THE PHONE!!

Dinner time! Love!

I miss bureaucracy?

Okay, so I just want to talk about how sassy I am. I am so sassy that my family is obsessed with me and they send fatty all sorts of treats. First of all, I was surviving off of three pairs of pants, which I know isn’t all that traumatic, but when you do laundry every two months it can get to be a bit of a challenge. I also go REPAIRED BOOTS. It’s funny how those boots make me feel less American, they just looove boots here. You are un-cool with out them, as in certainly not European at least. SO I had started to feel naked despite the numerous layers I wore like the rest of Spain. They like to wear winter coats as long as possible, and people from Barcelona would certainly not survive New England, or its winters. Pansies. But now I am free, because the Spaniards have decided to stop looking at me like I am crazy when I wear flip flops or a dress without tights. This week I went to the beach Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, then Friday, and now it’s Saturday again…but it’s a bit cloudy. If the weather isn’t nice enough for me to go to the beach and swim, then my other excuse is working out. I run to the beach then work out there (like sit-ups and push-ups) and power walk the length of the beach (Hotel Arts down to the end of Barceloneta and back), then I collapse. And of course I was wearing my bathing suit underneath, so clothes become towel and ocean becomes cool down shower. And if I am lucky my friend Christian who lives here will come too, and Ill ride his bike while he does the whole other end of the beach…it’s a lot, I’ll stick to the bike.
Despite all the class I feel like I have sometimes, I still have time to do beach, mostly because I live ten minutes from it. I finally got my class completely sorted out. It is ASTOUNDING how inept the people at the university can be sometimes, and I never thought I would miss the bureaucracy of BC and the US in general. Bureaucracy can be manipulated, despite how shitty it can be… when people plain don’t give a crap ( which can be said for bureaucracy too, I suppose) and take their sweet-ass time, nothing gets done.
Their superiors don’t care, so you can’t go above them, if you can even figure out who that ‘superior’ is. Just so you know, I took a HUGE role of toilet paper as revenge...mwa ah ah ahhh. Please note how it is as big as my head. Anywho, finally got it figured out, despite missing the first two weeks of one class because 1) They don’t post room assignments online they are on huge boards in one of the lobby, horribly organized and in Catalan, 2) No one responds to e-mail so figuring out who when and where becomes very difficult 3) They put me in the Catalan art history class not the Castellano/Spanish one and 4) they put me in a class with a time conflict, because apparently they really don’t take attendance or have functioning scheduling programs. So, I am at least interested in the topic (or what I understand of what the professor says), now that I can get to the class. It’s funny how such small accomplished make being abroad feel easier, probably because those small things can just be so difficult to get done sometimes. So I may or may not fail this art history course, but at least I finally know how to hassle Spaniards to get results, work the copying machine (since I had to copy a random person’s notes from class), and I have the balls to say “Lo siento, pero no se” (Sorry, but I don’t know) when this intense but nice professor calls on you at random.
Now, I can just come home and do some sassy origami that was sent to me, yummmmmmyyy, and decorate my room with it. Then I can go to the beach until forever, come home and make a delicious dinner—unless I am eating with Christian in which case I am not permitted to handle the pasta as I’ll wreck it ( he lived in Italy for two years so he is an expert), and reeeaadd. That has become my normal day-to-day, plus or minus amounts of beach, homework, and reading. ☺ Smelllll thosee floweerrrsss!

Besitos para todos y os hecho de menos muchisimo!

Malaga, moths, and moving

Oh, Malaga…such an interesting place. Laurel and I were SUPER pumped because it was our romantic last weekend (Laurel left Barca the Tuesday after). So, everything was romantic, including how sweaty I was after power walking all the way from my residencia to the Passeig de Gracia Renfe stop. Loco. We found also on our way there that our hotel was complete crap. The other girl we were meeting up with got there the day before and almost died of asphyxiation it smelled so bad. Then there was the fact that it was forty minutes outside of town, no small thing if you’re a student and you don’t want to pay for cabs. We spent a lot of time at the beach, and saw a ton of the town, but weren’t to down for paying for museums, as we needed to do things like eat. There was a real cool cultural fair going on at the same time (apparently Malaga wants to be the most culturally diverse place in Spain, and maybe even Europe). I bought nothing but the smells were glorious. We also got to see quite a show at the fair stage. There was quite an interesting (and fit!!!) 40 yr old man, maybe older, instructing Salsaaaaaaaaa. Very sassy. But, aside from this mans…ummmm…. intriguing pelvic thrusts, the other entertainment were the locals—of all ages, shapes, and sizes—following his directions. There was the very rouunndd boy who was working the other 9-year-old ladies. Then there was the teen that thought she was IT! but she was confused with the difference between a stripper video dancer and salsa. It was very sassy and as soon as Laurel loads the photos I’ll post it. That night we stayed chill, as the night before I slapped someone (let’s just say we are at times a bit overly careful with our purses and if we feel someone touching it we GRAB, including each other).
When we got back to our room there was someone there! Or something. I learned about laurel’s huge phobia of moths. I also learned how much noise three girls could make (ahem, even if the other two are observers) killing a moth. Don’t worry, Laurel took a video of that too but I have to edit it since my pants kept falling down since I was jumping on and off the beds and running around. The funnier part was that it disappeared and the real action was when I finally nabbed it the next night. It was very traumatic, for the moth and maybe Laurel who may or may not have peed herself. We also encountered some NAVY MENNNN, YUMMM, minus the fact that they were complete bros, and for those of who don’t know what I mean ask my Mom what a jughead is (i.e. dope). They were on the DESTROYERRRRRR NATO catching pirates, and he didn’t even get it when I said “Arrr, maty we be walking” when he asked what we were doing that night. How is he gonna catch pirates, I mean… they talk like that, right? Wink wink
We also had a special relationship with the hostel staff. They were clearly all family, we just couldn’t quite figure out what they’re roles were. There was Philippe, the little brother. He was pretty docile and sweet and always got us what we asked for… pretty much just ice, haha. Well, also a secador del pelo for Laurel and he LIED and said he had one, but it never turned up until two nights later. Oh, Philippe, how cute. Then there was Dad, and he was just a nice Daddy—super nice, opened the doors for us, and nicely told us to be quiet. Then there were to women. One cutey pa-tutey that would speak lots of Spanish with me and chat about the weather and this huge woman. The woman, we decided was a sister-in-law from Eastern Europe and that is why she was a bit colder and gruff, and HUGE, like a tower…think Julia Childs. The Bitter Brother, he was all mine. He wanted to tell us where to go (not in a creepy way) and had this running conversation with me—gleeech—about all the accents of Europe. We think he was just jealous of how darling Philippe was, and he was stuck talking to me because I was the only one that could really speak Spanish, Yayyyyy… So, now that you know about the family dynamics in the hostel, I think you can truly see how wonderful a trip it was, ahhaa.
Laurel and I caught a 3 o’clock flight and were at her place in Barca by 7-ish. Laurel packed (wahhh) while wrote a paper and we moved all of her crap to a hotel she was going to stay in for two nights with her mom, and one night with me! Now Dad, do you remember moving me into Edmonds? That’s sort of what it was like moving Laurel out of her dorm. Imagine two girls with bazillions of plastic bags, two large suitcases, a small one, and a number of full tote bags hailing a cab to go, essentially, down the street. But the hotel was glorious; I wish they had wifi so you (being my family) could stay there when you came. So we get in and Laurel checks in while I load the luggage cart-trolley thing, dropping a lot, as it’s hard to put huge heavy items on surfaces with wheels when you are also lacking a height advantage. The desk man said we could leave or stuff there and he would bring some up, we waited an hour, then we got a call in the room saying we should come down soon for our luggage, what? We also went out to a romantic dinner that night… well romantic as in Laurel bought me some pasta for moving her out and we were there with a bunch of friends who were leaving soon, too. Laurel and I watched a plethora of romantic comedies while I painted my nails and she straightened out all her luggage, including a care package for me! The spoils I got were: a hairdryer, two towels, two Tupper-ware, some plastic cups and silverware, Advil, the printer card for our university (I know four months in and I’m only now figuring it out), socks and a shirt. Laurel said our farewells over chocolate and churros with her wicked nice mom, and now we send loving voice notes to each other via bbm.

And then, yuck, ‘real life’ with classes and all.

As soon as Laurel posts photos they will be yours!!!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

HERE I FOUND IT

Per order of the queen I have found the photo of ALLLLL the crap she lugged over from the states for me. And yes mom, I also put it in the apropriate blog post, but I thought you would like for it to be at the FOREFRONT of todays 'news'. Im going to the beach, slick with SPF thirty. TAKE THAT SPANISH TOPLESS SUNBATHERS.

You asked for it.

Per order of the Princess and Queen (a.k.a Sister and Mother)

FATTTYY Packyyyyyy

Fatty got a package today!

Kleenex
MIGHTY detergent-a little bitty bottle...but it does stain spotting (a life saver for me, so i can do less full loads of laundry)
Two greeting cards with sassy cats on them, maybe ill send them and maybe I wont!
HEADBANDS! Sparkly one!!!!
MY BOOTS! It was like a child coming home to me, now I understand how much you all much miss me ;)
A pair of earings, now i can lok like stylish homeless person.
Pink toilet paper!

Is it a sad day when you gat really exciting bout toilet paper? I think not, and I know my sister understand (and the rest of the family atleast accepts it). I have stolen, I mean borrowed, toilet paper from every restaurant and hotel/hostel I have stayed in (minus Amsterdam). It was a big deal when i ran out of toilet paper and instead of taking it from the University, where they
Fattty got a package today!!foolishly don't lock their dispensers like in America, I went to.... THE SUPERMARKET. Now its big because, if I have to by something, I'll try the euro store first. I was able to get some plush TP with pink flowers for my special visitor (Jen), I usually use the equivalent of a thin paper bag, double-ply. But, you see getting not only name brand toilet paper, but toilet paper that is soft and pink, is glorious. I'll spare you any further details, but pink TP is a VIP for aesthetic and other reasons.

My pasta is boiling over.
Sort of like that bathtub flood I had yesterday, OMG. I'm sitting on bed yesterday half blogging, half working on a little paper. After bit I notice, I don't know, Like a weird slidingy, trickly noise... and I am like..... shit. It ahd happened before, twice, but never to this magnitude. The water was literally flowing out of the bathroom, wich is had already filly with a quarter inch of water. PANIC. But no, I so used to painicky things like this happening here, I don't panic anymore. Luckily I had to huge towels I took from the residencia when my fridge broke last week and defrosted ( see i told you, panicky things). So, I damned it right up at the door and worked up a nice sweat soaking it up wiht my towel and wringing it out. Let me tell you, the cleaning lady DOES NOT mop, or really sweep, the floors. Good thing she is a sassy old lady who talks to me about sciatic nerves.

Now, I don't want some other special things to be lost in all the flood and TP excitment, lke another package i got from my sissy-poo. It was glorious, aside form the beautiful cards (which I provided for selfish purposes) with nice little drawings of sun, that I thought she might hae hada three old do (JK JEN), but thats beside the point. A USB DRIVE, full to the brim with shows!!! Now, for those of you who don't, my internet in ym residencia is complete rubbish, R-U-B-B-I-S-H. I can barely use skype to text chat, let alone video or voice. So you can see how its exceedingly hard to download any shows to watch, on those nice breezy nights when everyone is out partying and I'm , well, not. My hero, plain and simple. Also, my plethora of chocolate and easter candy has helped me impress some people and abuse the rule of supply and demand, GAINING POWER TO DOMINATE ALLLLLL...or just bring some with me when I am hanging with Spanish speakers, especially non-spanish ones, that don;t really get easter sometimes, but totally get delicious chocolate.

Okay, time to eat lunchy. Besitos. And I'll tell you all about Malaga soon.

One trimester down, lots of easter chocolate to eat.

After Roma I crashed and watched millions of episodes of CSI and The Office… don’t judge! I walked a lot and didn’t shower in Rome…I needed to recuperate. I also did a lot of studying for exams the up-coming week. On Wednesday I got a HUGE package that I was NOT allowed to open ‘till Easter. Yes, Mom, I waited patiently. I also enjoyed a thoroughly clean room. Before I left for Roma I even washed my sheets! That marks the second time I’ve done laundry in Barcelona…the 1st of April (right now it’s the 30th, so we’ll see how long I can last this time).


On Sunday I got to open my package!!!!! I celebrated by making toast AND a pot of coffee and watched an episode of the office. Then I opened my glorious package and commenced drooling over the chocolate and new underwear. I bet you didn’t know it
Mom, but you’re an enabler—with these five new pairs of underwear I can wash my clothes even less!!!! Laurel (my favorite person) came home from her spring break trip and we had an Easter fest. I made dinner—chicken burgers, pasta, and bread—and then we colored eggs! It was pretty much awesome and we got very creative despite only having brown eggs to color. I remedied by adding less water to the color and selecting choice light brown eggs, haha.







Then I got back to studying till my two big exams on Tuesday and on Wednesday. Then BAM!! It was over. First trimester over….over? OMG. Laurel and I had a very romantic almost last weekend together and had slumber parties almost every night, which included fries from the patatas stand outside (obviously).
The next week my new classes started. Yikes. I never though I would think BC was really well organized. There is no info on the internet, as in where it meets. So I miss one of my first classes for art history, went to the next class on Friday and it was in Catalan. What the heck! I switched out of Art Theory for a Visual Representation class, which sounds weird but it is about the development, through certain movements ( like the renaissance) of visual representation. The other class is a cinema class, History of Cinema, and I love it…despite the silent films in Spanish. So, I’m on to my next trimester and was able to manage a good report from the last one despite perhaps the most stressful exam period I’ve ever had. Then, it was time for MALAGA!!!

When in Roma... (no,i actually get to use this phrase)

I left for Rome on Friday morning. It was a bit of a tight squeeze—since my credit card hadn’t worked on the airline’s website (as they never seem to in Europe), I only had it reserved, so fingers crossed that they wouldn’t sell it on me. But it all worked out, minus the fact that pilot thought landing the plane was the same as race car driving—I seriously thought that the plane was gonna role. I somehow magically figure out how and where to take the train to the city and—YAYYYYYYYYY!!!!—find Charlie meeting my at the train station. Joyous Reunion and we also received lots of awkward stares (you’d understand if you have every seen us hang out…weird voices and horrible jokes all over the place). Our hostel was wicked close, literally across the street and down a block from the train station. They like to play really sassy ‘90s R&B tunes—check out Usher’s ‘Confession’. It was pretty inconspicuous; Charlie and I walked right by it almost every time we were going home. It was in an apartment building that was attached to the buildings on either side. Up two flights of stairs, then you couldn’t miss it-on account of the BLASTING music. Charlie and I were in a room with a Dutch couple, random man from China (that’s all the conversation we got from him), and girl from BC. We happened to be talk about how much housing sucks this year, when the girl pipes up and turn out to be from there, small (creepy) world.
So the adventure commenced the first day we did the Coliseum, the pantheon and then trailed over across the river. We went through this cute little island with a hospital, also apparently around where all the Romans like to sun themselves. The rive has wide pathways on either side. Anywho… we went to this area that is apparently great for pizza, and inexpensive, delicious food in general. Of course we got gelato on the way. Let me tell you, this gelato was delicious…I wish they made ice cream like it in the states. The gelato is so nice and creamy, but it icy too, in a peasant way, so its really light—I had mint, so it was also v. refreshing. The area across the river, whose name escapes me, has an awesome atmosphere (we went back three times). That afternoon/evening we walking around a bit and then sat down for some pizza, I know GHASP I spent money at a restaurant. It was delicious, delicious, delicious…. I just got a simple margarita pizza and we got a half litre of red wine. So relaxing. Then we went back to our hostel, a nice looooooooooooooooooooooooooooong walk ( but hey we burned of the gelato, right?)We settled in for the niht, alarms set for 8:30 because WE MEAN BUSINESS!
By 9 we were eating our complimentary breakfast (coffee and a croissant) at the café next door, then hopped on the metro to go to the Vatican, as we wanted maximum catholic time. On the metro we saw a sassy performer, which isn’t unusual in Europe in general. But it was about a 60 years old woman carting around an amp, I still am unsure as to what language she was singing, and I still think she was horrible and horribly amusing. We got to the Vatican around 9:30 and it was already packed, it was also a week before Easter. They already were setting up for the mass, and we saw alter servers, Eucharist ministers ‘training’ for the coming Sunday. It was gorgeous inside, minus a certain HORRIBLY annoying group of tourists. By the time we go to St. Peter’s it had been hours and my neck hurt from staring up, but it was beautiful. You could stare at the ceiling of St. Peter’s for an hour and not see it all really. After the Vatican we had a nice lunch, of bread and cheap sliced cheese, Saturday was not our splurge day. We walked around that afternoon and hit up the Spanish steps and walk by the Trevi Fountain (it was way to crowded). When we got back to the train station/hostel area we used our internet passes and hit up the laundromat internet combo store (I know, its as weird as it sounds). That night we got some nice gelato and then hit the sac.
Sunday was wander day. We went to all of the sights we missed and found a nice area plaza sort of near the Trevi Fountain, which we went back to that day. We stopped for PASTA!!!! Oh-my-god. It was delicious. I had gnocchi with just olive oil and Parmesan cheese. We also got bruschetta and some red wine. Only ten euro! And possibly the best meal I have had in Europe, so delicious. I can’t stop saying it. We also went back to our favorite area for a bit and then back to the hostel for our dinner of bread and jam, yum. Literally, we would hollow out the baguette and poor in jelly. We went out for dinner/drink that night with two of Charlies friend from where he was studying abroad in Glasgow.
We crashed when we got back to the hostel and I had the weirdest dream that night. I was in the room in the hostel and there was someone standing in the middle of the room, and the person across from me was sitting up in bed. All these car alarm noises were on and the beds were rattling. Charlie and I woke up, all packed around nine-ish and he had the audacity to tell me there he thinks there was an earthquake last night. “No Charlie, it was probably just a big truck driving by”. LIES. There was an earthquake!!!!!! I survived an earthquake. Okay, okay, sort of… since it wasn’t the epicenter and all, but still! After breakfast we got on our respective trains, and it was smooth sailing ‘till barca!! Woohooo

My List

1. Everything bagel from Atlantic Bagel with butter and creamcheese
2. Buffalo Chicken Calzone
- buffalo chicken fingers
- buffalo chicken pizza
- all with extra blue cheese
3. Greek Salad from Harbor House
4. Dinner at Golf Club
5. White and garlic pizza from Roggies, at 2 am
6. Margarita, the cheap kind, pre-made in the bottle.
7. Watch a lot of television
8. Snuggle with my cats while I watch that television, or atleast allt he Harry Potters in succession
9. Go for a drive with fam, get coffee from Circe's or Tedeschis and go buy the beaches and through the Harbor.
10. Wake up to Dad's breakfasts of toasted muffins and sausage... lots of sausage
11. Rent movies and get chinese food.
12. Beach, Beach, Beach!!!
13. S'mores over the fire pit with Jakie
14. Be lazy with my girlies for about 48 hours...including going to the movies, and crap all night, sleeping with Jilly, going to
Jamie's or the mug for breakfast, stop at CTs, lay on my bed for two hours, get coffee again and go to the beach....
15. stop by the liquor store
16. Eat more buffalo chicken
17. Eat Dad's hotdogs and macaroni and cheese (Kraft this time)
18. Mom's crumbly chicken
19. Come home to Lori, Mom, Wynn , Dad and Jen, and wine (red!)
20. to be continued....

Dane's Visit and then some

Okay, so now I’ll try and catch you up on all the rest of everything else (aren’t I good at constructing sentences?).

So after Mom’s visit it was Dane’s turn. Dane is one of my most favorite people from school, as well as my Mom’s. But before Dane came it was St. Patrick’s Day!!!!!! I didn’t do too much aside from cover myself with the tattoos from my Grandparents and glitter clovers from the Police Department; I looked quite the sassy lass—or just weird. We got ready in all our green glory, I went with the later group, deciding to pass on the pub crawl, and went to a pub called George Pain/Pane/Paine (idk how to spell it). My gooooosh it was so crowded, Aneka and I decided to leave and I was bumped so hard I got splinters in my arm from being rammed into counter, YOWCH! I finally dragged myself to a Pharmacist on Thursday when the wounds started to look more like aliens had infiltrated my body, no lie. But YAY, DANE CAME. He got here Thursday afternoon and I was under strict instructions to act ‘normal’, as in not be overly hostessy.
That night we went to George Paine for some beers, can you tell I like that place. By the end of the evening we had decided to steel some of their ambiance…they have a wall lined with old looking books for some old world UK charm I guess. Ironically the book we took was Alcohol and the State, go figure. Now PD, don’t judge me…I was merely taking advantage of a situation to remember a glorious evening. Friday was beach day. The weather was amazing so we hauled to the beach with a packed lunch, bathing suits and all. Nice and relaxing aside from the nudity, middle easterners selling you drugs and fanta, and pda (public displays of affection). Next Day was tour day; we did my big walk around Born, Barri Gotic, and La Rambla and up to Plaza Catalunya. Then we had churros and chocolate in the late afternoon. Dane treated me to dinner that night, as in cooked some delish treats in my ‘kitchen’. We laid low that night and on Sunday we hit up the park for a bit after the walk, it was a little bit hippie for Dane, but totally Barcelona culture. Then it was time for the futbol game!!!!!!!!!!! Barca v. Malaga and we nailed them, 6-0!!!! Holla. Our tickets cost 30 euro and we sat in the farthest back row of the farthest back tier, but it was awesome. There was a guy that had this toy microphone thing that he kept yelling chants into. What a trooper, and a group of older men in front of us to the right who rejoiced with every goal as if the 3rd, 4th, 5th,and then 6th world wars had ended. This is just another part of not just Spanish culture, but European culture. They love football. L-O-V-E. Refrigerators, office chairs, clothes, underwear, cell phone covers… it isn’t that different form the commercialization of sports in the United States, but I think it goes a bit further. Then, Dane left me at five am on Monday morning and the two weeks of hell began.
I had four projects and a ten pages paper to do, all of which I had done little four aside from hunt down a few sources. I work my toosh off to get a good solid outline on my paper and one of the projects done by the weekend. But I will say that that weekend was one of the best I have had in Barcelona. I spent the whole weekend with Laurel, a girl in two of my classes from Chicago. Friday night she came over and got ready with me and we went to a club called opium, SO MUCH FUN, it was an all night dance party and meeting interesting (to say the least) people, then to top it off we got those delicious fried my sister fell in love with on the way home. Fatty’s delight. Saturday, I finished up my paper and then Laurel and I commenced the gourmet meal we had planned. It was quite the feast. You see Laurel has an oven in the communal kitchen in her residencia, and I was going to take advantage of it. We had salmon, bread and cheese with avocado, rice and corn, and some delicious saucy thing- I have no idea what it was. That night we went out with some girls on her floor, despite how pooped we were from all the work. We went to a house ‘party’, as in the six of us and, get this…. real life Spaniards!!!!! They were a bit shy at first, but they relaxed as soon as I freaked them out with my Shakira rendition, then we had a dance/sing party while one them played the bongos, how cool. I was dubbed Shakira the rest of the night, and I was totally okay with it. We went to a fun small club, Costa Breve, with them for a bit. But Laurel and I had fully crashed and headed back to her place where I slept (she has a queen size bed!!!!!). We fell asleep to Dirty Dancing 2:Havana Nights (don’t judge us) with piles of bread on the bed. Then I had to face reality the next day and do all the rest of my projects. But finally came Thursday (my Friday) and guess what that meant, time for ROMA!!

Más luego queridos, xx

Mom visits and we wear the matchy matchy

Just as a started to go through my favorite people in the world withdrawal (this is after Jen left. And yes, she is one of my favorite people) it was time for Mom to come!

It started a gorgeous Thursday morning and I dragged my self out of bed. You see, I have class at 11 so getting to the airport by around 10:30 was a bit of a challenge, and I have gotten quite used to the Mediterranean leisurely lifestyle. Anywhooo, I finally get to the bus that brings you to the airport at around quarter to ten, lo and behold Mom’s dumb flight gets in early… just after 10 o’clock! That’s just rude; don’t they know a daughter is trying to surprise her Momma at the airport? See, she had told me not to meet her, just meet her at the hotel. I kept up the façade that I was meeting her there until I go to the airport because I figured I could still make it, and I did!!!!! The hotel was quite cute, despite have issues getting them to do simple things like tell us how to turn the lights on, but hey, who needs lights anyway. After we settled in (I moved into the hotel with her for the weekend) we were off.
Now, I might be a bit rusty on the full schedule of the weekend, its been three weeks, but I am sure she’ll correct me ☺.
We started out with a walk around where I live, Barri Gotic, Born, and over to La Rambla. Similar to Jen’s visit, when I didn’t know hat something was I just said it was Roman. That night we ate dinner at a restaurant, Princessa 23, don the street from the hotel that I had been to before. Again, it was delicious… don’t worry you’ll see the pictures. We had nachos, tortilla de patatas (Spanish omelet), and pan con tomate (bread with a tomato/olive oil paste). It was delicious. D-E-L-I-C-I-O-U-S. The nachos were amazing, we concluded that what makes good nachos is when you can enjoy the plain chips just as much as when they are covered in cheese, tomatoes and delicious chili sauce (which we inhaled immediately). Then we were back to the hotel for a relaxing night, and baths of course.
Next we started we a nice cup of coffee, croissants, and juice. Then (I think) we went over and did the ceramics museum, which is in a cute little park… there is a picture of Mom and I there in front of a fountain, but the dopes took the picture about a football field away. It was super cool, ceramics from all over Spain, including some modern ones…. I saved you from the excessive amount of photos I took for ideas. Then we went back over to Plaza Catalunya and walked up Passeig de Gracia, which is Barcelona’s Newbury Street but BIGGER, and we were able to see Gaudi’s building, Casa Batlo, and la Pedrera (I am probably not spelling them right, despite being here for four months). We were extra extraño (strange) on this day. I was able to get Mom to get a pair of nice dark, sharp jeans (This is a quite a feat, I don’t know if you are familiar with here sassy, ripped ones). We got another delicious, and totally reasonable meal at Obama Bar. This is where I went to watch the inauguration and their sandwiches are delicious. We finally reached Gaudi’s buildings, and mom was in love. That night we went to my dorm so I could make dinner... red wine, salad, spinach and mushrooms, and salmon. Finally, I can cook! Then we went to my favorite bar/lounge and had a glass of wine (there is a picture of it, I took Jen there too). Then we were back home for more baths and sleepy time.
Now one of these days we did chocolate and churros, which were delicious and walked around the neighborhood. There is a cathedral in the neighborhood, one that actually isn’t usually open to go into, but it was this time and they were selling tickets to a acoustic Spanish guitar concert they were going to have in their chapel that night. It was amazing! The guitarist was in his own world and it was the best setting, amazing acoustics and intimate (try and find the song Asturias and imagine what I am describing—if you can’t find it, it’s on the Vicky, Christina, Barcelona soundtrack). Oh, and I think it was Thursday night…my bad.
On Saturday morning we went to a little café/patisseria that I have been intrigued by called Caemus. A lot of the goods they sell there are made in a monastery. They had a table full of delicious treats. We finally decided on an almond cookie, with a nice glaze on it, marzipan cake, and something else I can’t quite remember (hopefully Mom can help me out here). I’m not sure in which order, but after Caemus we went to the Picasso museum and to some cathedrals, we were able to get into the cloister at the major cathedral in Barcelona, it was amazing (the pictures with the geese). The Picasso museum was nice.and I discovered the ceramics room, which I had missed before. We had tapas outside my favorite cathedral…the picture with bread sticks and potatoes. They weren’t your typical patatas bravas, at least in my opinion, but they were amazing, from this little place called Bubo. Then we met a cat named Hombre (which means man), he was super big and old and just sat there next to his owner, unfazed by the crowds of people, For dinner that night we went to another spot I really like, La Rosa Negra, they have really good mojitos, but we got nachos and margaritas… I got a quesadilla (delish as usual). Sunday, I was finally able to get mom into the BIG CATHEDRAL. We waited until Sunday because not only can you go to mass, but also you can get in without paying, two good things. After we went and got breakfast outside, close by. Don’t worry there is a picture of this too. We got eggs (a rarity for breakfast here), croissants and coffees. Then we packed up out of the hotel room (since it was her last day), and brought everything to my dorm and spent the rest of the day at the beach. It was a beautiful day, not too hot or too windy, which can happen a lot at the beach here. We took a long walk down the beach, starting by the old Olympic apartments, near my end and walked down to Barceloneta, which is near the end of La Rambla. I got a nice old man’s hat, its very sassy (there are pictures of this, too). Then we got foccaccia pizza (no, I don’t know how to spell it), a piece of blueberry (?) pie, and two cappuccinos. So delicious. We also saw a girl in my year from Scituate sunbathing in her bra...interesting.
Then it was time to say bye-bye! But don’t you worry; they are coming to fetch me in June ☺.

Besitos para todos.

Jen and I can run through tourists like Armstrong knocks over cyclists...

Jen came. We conquered.

I didn't do much of anything Friday; I just kept pretending to clean my room waiting for. Then, I woke up Saturday morning and after my usual bowl of oatmeal and Sabrina the Teenage Witch episode (we can talk about that addiction later), I spent a few hours looking at the clock and staring at the bus schedule. The bus is far easier to take than I thought, but I'm not sure I'll convince mom of that for her trip, haha. I got there in plenty of time, luckily since I was starving and had to pee. I treated myself to a box of Ritz crackers...I know you might not think its a treat, but they don't exist here, and I missed there buttery, salty deliciousness (and they were the cheapest thing in the dam store). So again I am staring at something (the arrival announcements) for twenty minutes and I get a text ‘Landed’.... WAHOOOOO...and another, "At baggage"...and another..." I see mine" and then as I'm practically dancing around in anticipation, I see my hermana rubia Americana (blond haired American sister). We were the loudest reunion in the airport. Magnificent. So the first day we just did a walking tour around the old neighborhoods near me (shhh, I just told here everything was from 'roman times'). That joke went so far that we would go to the Louvre and say, "oh, it must be from roman times" about any statue, painting, sculpture, brick...you get the idea. We went out for a quick drink that night by my favorite cathedral (Santa Maria del Mar) and hit the hay early.
We had a pretty full few days and I woke her up to delicious omelets... she is as amazing as I am by how much more I cook here despite the 'non' kitchen I have. You try cooking for two people with on small frying pan. The day I had my politics exam we went to Parc Guell and she had some free time...and got me presents! A small pot, so I can actually boil things instead of borrowing, and dish towels-apparently she wasn’t down with how I dried my dishes on my clothes... that I was wearing. Tuesday was just a glorious day; pots, dishtowels, and my favorite person from the states was here MARIA! Jen and I got a nice dinner out at Taller de Tapas...delicious, and then met Maria and Sam at this restaurant/bar La Rosa Negra (really good mojitos). It was magical. Brenden/Maria got me Reeces cups (for some reason I have been craving them here). Jen and I spaced them out with dates on them... whoda thunk eight Reeces could last your four months (or that I could share the joy of free food as much as I did with Jen at the cafe next door)!?
Wednesday was PARIS DAY!! Went to class in the morning and Jen and I were off to the airport by 1 o'clock. The trip went quite smoothly and after a little confusion about trains.... sometimes it can be very difficult to exit a train station, and sometimes Jen can get very annoyed when I will just go down hallways aimlessly looking for an exit. Eventually we did get the hotel. It was quite cute, but they were deceitful... no cats!!! Little effers had photos with cats in them but there were none there!
That afternoon we kept it simple, explored the area a bit then went back to the hotel to get ready for Jen's shmancy dinner. Cafe Riche was an experience. I was not only mislead (by my sister) to believe we got a discount, but I also ate my first oysters and had the most delicious duck in the WHOLE WORLD. There was an equally delicious side with the duck, but I have no idea what it was... a beeny, patatoey mush in an un-appetizing gray color. As for the oysters...it was like eating the ocean, and hey, I like the ocean. But, I am not quite sure why it is so expensive - I can drink seawater from any harbor ;) THE DESSERT WAS AMAZING- Chocolate orange charlotte, which is a fancy way of saying chocolate cake with oranges in it, but it was a mousy, light cake. On top of this we ate loads of bread, the fatties of the classy restaurant were the waiters watched on as Jen at some pig intestine, no big deal.
Next day we powerhoused...each day we were out the door by eight thirty. First day we did Eiffel tower, Musee d'orsay, arc de triomfe, Grand Palais, and something else and other stuff.... Barcelona's arc is better, but we didn’t have to wait in line at all at the tower and it was actually cool that it was a bit foggy.... and then the croissant and coffee break was A-mazing. Just what he doctor ordered. It was a cute patisserie and the croissants were delicious. At Musee d'Orsay fell in love with impressionism, instead of just knowing about it and had a flashback to my trip to Paris with mom in the room with Van Gogh. We ate dinner that night my style.... cheap tub of cheese and a bag of dried bed and chorizo-esque meat... but it was delish.
Friday was similar schedule wise, but we were completely burnt out by the time we got to the Louvre, far too many tourists we were knockin 'em over left and right an hour after we got in, making a b-line for the Mona Lisa.... the entertainment factor was more valuable than the museum itself, haha. I found French sitcoms just as entertaining, mostly because I hadn’t watched TV in two months, and they wore really horrible clothes.
Our last day we checked-out pronto and walked to Montmartre, or as Jen liked to call it "Mont-a-mart-a". She also approved of how I elbowed, hard, through the people trying to trap us into buying bracelets by the basilica. Before we caught the train back tot he airport we, of our own free will, walked around for forty-five minutes in search of a patisserie. Carb shots are the new thing....
Jen's last night I took her to my favorite bar/lounge/restaurant place, La Luna, I like the strawberry caipirinha...DELISH. I made us some delicious potatoes when we got home and slapped Jen in the face. Ohh, wait, you want to know why?? Because fatty kept getting kinder bueno crumbs (our favorite candy bar) in my bed, and DENIED it!!! Also, it was more of a sharp backhand. All this was forgotten during our romantic beach day on Sunday, gorgeous day and even found take away coffee. Finished it all up with bravas at the Garden. Bravas are like a spicy potato Catalonian staple.Luckily, boredom and sorrow was abated after her departure by MY MOMMMMAAAA four days later.