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!