"Shall we steal a Cadillac?"

I attended an outdoor screening of the 1960 French film A Bout de Souffle on the mountain of Montjuic last night, and while the night air, starry sky, and the devilishly dashing Jean-Paul Belmondo made for a very pleasant evening, it was Jean Seberg who left me...well...a bout de souffle! (French for "breathless") As we packed up our bags and made our way back down the hill after the movie, visions of pixie cuts, winged eyeliner, and fitted striped tees danced through my head.  Her understated, simple style is something I will keep in mind next time I'm prowling the racks at Bloomie's...take a look, and be enchanted!

On to other exciting news: yesterday, I took a walk on the wild side.  I threw caution to the wind.  I looked Fear in the eye and said "hey buddy, there's a new sheriff in town".  I took my first ride on a motorbike!  My friend Luc picked me up for the movie, and when he told me we'd "drive" I figured he meant in a vehicle with a roof and 4 doors.  You can just imagine my expression when he thrust the helmet at me.  First of all, for a girl who's 5'4", I may just as well have mounted a horse without a stool; I practically had to get a running start to get my leg over the seat.  Also, note to self: a ponytail is not the ideal hairstyle when using a helmet, and opt out of earrings next time.  But let's just chalk those mistakes up to ignorance, since I was unaware a helmet would be part of my ensemble. 

Not gonna lie...I was pretty horrified the first 5 blocks.  I sent my calves into a fit of spasms after hugging the side of the bike with my lower half as tightly as possible, and I'm pretty sure there are scratches on the side of the seat where I dug my nails in.  But then I began to enjoy, and I realized I was living every American girls dream!  Tootling around Europe on the back of a motorbike!  Luc was mystified and slightly embarrassed of my enthusiasm from then on out...I don't blame him; it would be kind of embarrassing to have a girl laughing hysterically, hooting and hollering "THIS IS AWESOME!!!!!!" on the back of your bike...talk about ruining his street cred.  In order to pacify me, he agreed to a few photos (he knew I would just pester until he gave in).  Check them out below!  Vroom vroom!

Total bad ass

May The Force Be With You...And Also With You

I can't decide what part of my weekend was the most amusing.  Perhaps it was my visit to Bar Vader (an oh-so-clever play on DARTH Vader, no?  I wonder how high the guys were when they came up with that name...) where a large screen TV replayed only the goriest of scenes from “Seed of Chuckie” over and over (why they wouldn´t just show the whole film beats me) and the jukebox played everything from Alvin and the Chipmunks to The Ramones.  I almost forgot to mention the drunk burnout sitting at the bar with a voice like a Smurf…obviously a result of a recent tracheotomy.  But although my friends and I found ourselves in this museum of freakdom, we actually wound up having a great time.

The girls and I then decided to mosey over to Dow Jones, a very popular bar among study abroad students where the drink prices correspond with various "stocks" and prices rise and fall throughout the night.  Good music, dark and intimate setting, funky bartenders...definitely dug the vibe in this place.

apologies for the blur...

Then Sunday...glorious Sunday.  I woke up particularly hungry after sleeping in for the first time since I've been on the trip, and felt like meandering through my neighborhood, with a taste for something familiar.  I had heard rumblings of a Starbucks being nearby, but hadn't had a chance to seek out it's location...I actually wanted to test my self control and see how long I could go without a chai before the shakes of withdrawal set in.  But when I saw that green mermaid aglow, my knees practically buckled.  I nearly knocked people into the street, pretty sure I sent an old lady spinning like a turtle...but I just couldn't get to the door fast enough.  It was a feast; I sat at my table, giggling with delight over my grande nonfat chai, blueberry muffin and yogurt parfait.  Christmas indeed had come early...

Pure bliss...

Following my breakfast of champions, I swallowed my dignity and climbed aboard the double decker Barcelona City Tours bus, it's firetruck red paint aglow with sunshine and shame.  I haven't done much sightseeing since I've been here, and this was the only way for me to get a taste of everything with the time I had.  And I must say, the lovely British woman who supplied her voice for the recorded tour knew some pretty fascinating stuff about Barcleona...anyways, I did manage to snap a few pics, please enjoy them below...

La Pedrera...and part of our bus

Sagrada de Familia...did my best to lean outside the bus for this one

Park Guell!

Hola!  I made it to the top!

Another great weekend...and only 5 days left!  Better make these adventures the best of the trip!

Sand Castles and Vegetarianism

The title of this post is my weekend in a nutshell.  By far, Saturday and Sunday were my two favorite days that I have spent in Spain thus far.  The only bad part of this weekend was the fact that it marked the halfway point of my trip, when I feel as though it´s just begun…

My Saturday had an early start, as some new friends and I made our way to Estación de Sánts, the main train station in the city.  Swimsuit clad and armed with the highest SPF money can buy, we were ready to hit the beach at Costa Brava.  Since the members of our little travel group live all over the city, we all agreed to congregate at the central station in front of the McDonald´s; however, we all wound up spread out all over the station in a state of confusion looking for each other since no one owns a working cell phone, and thus missed the train to Costa Brava.  Once we had all found each other, we decided a trip to Casteldefells would be equally as nice.

Casteldefells is quite similar to Costa Brava, only smaller scale.  It was a wonderful escape from the chaotic, tourist-infested pavements of Barcelona.  The town itself is only a few streets of shops and restaurants, and the beach a glorious strip of fine sand and cool waters.  And of course, our afternoon was not complete without a sand castle fit for a king (note the mosaic touch, an homage to Gaudí)

No buckets or shovels required!

Saturday night I met up with some coworkers for a drink and we luckily found La Pepita, a charming little bar tucked in Grácia.  I didn´t know what to admire more: the wall of signatures to my left, the vintage décor with hints of both the Belle Époque era as well as Art Noveau, the elaborate presentation of gin and tonics, or the adorable, charming bartender.  My coworkers and I sat at our stools for 2 hours, talking and enjoying our specially crafted libations, and even left our mark on the wall.  I can´t wait to return next weekend!

The menu is written on the mirror, so chic!

Best gin and tonic in Barcelona...

I even made my mark!

And to wrap up an action-packed weekend, I attended a bull fight Sunday night (hence the vegetarianism part of the title).  I entered the arena with a fist of knots in my stomach, worried that I should have brought a barf bag along.  Just HOW gory was this gonna be?  What if the matador isn´t on his game today?  Thankfully, the only thing that really turned my stomach was the tightness of the matador's pants (what did he PAINT them on?!)  I shouted "Ole!" extra loud when one of the matadors came out in USD colors, it was like watching a real live Diego Torero!  I returned home with high spirits, a souvenir poster, and perhaps a more careful consideration of vegetarianism.

Even the nosebleeds filled up!

I want his socks...

"I Will Bring My Computer to Work..."

I really don´t have any excuses.  I simply keep making the same mistake and every morning forget to bring my computer with me.  So...I´m a dunce guys, I´m sorry...it´s been a hectic but exciting week and I have lots to share!  For now though, I´ll be sitting in the corner facing the wall...I deserve it!

That Ben Franklin Knew What He Was Talking About...

Patience is a virtue!  I´m sorry friends, I forgot to bring my computer and the proper cords into work today in order to upload photos from my exciting weekend!  And due to a sick day last week, my desk is full of catch up work that I must tend to, so no time for a long post today!  I am equally disappointed as you are, because I have some very fun stuff to write about and exciting pictures to share!  All I can say is stay tuned and it shall be worth your wait :)

Adventures in Solitude

Whenever I used to go out to eat with my parents or had a date with a friend, and I´d see someone eating alone at a nearby table, I would feel an enormous, distracting sympathy for them, and the feeling did not cease the entire meal.  Sometimes they´d have a glass of wine or a martini, and almost always the company of a book or newspaper.  I´d have this urge to go over and invite them to join us for dinner, or send over dessert just so they knew someone was thinking about them. 

I never would feel sad for individuals having breakfast or lunch alone, but dinner always got me.  Maybe it´s because it´s the meal that ends the day, a time reserved for when people are supposed to come together and relax with each other rather than contemplate in solitude.  I just could never see the appeal of dining alone;  I always imagined it as a kind of torture in which one´s same thoughts would be endlessly mulled over and over.

It just goes to show you that you can´t pass judgment on something until you try it.  The majority of nights I´ve spent here in Barcelona, I´ve eaten alone.  And I thoroughly enjoy it.  I can walk around for a half hour or so, looking for a restaurant that has a manu to satisfy what I have a taste for, or I can grab a quick drink at the bar next to my apartment and then head somewhere close for an early, easy evening.

A great book is the best company that money can buy.  The characters can come to life and suddenly seem like they´re sitting at your table, and the scene is unfolding before your eyes as you cautiously take the occasional bite.  Usually I can barely tear my hand from the page to lift my fork...

And it´s a riot what comes to your mind when you don´t have a conversation to keep you occupied.  I like to imagine sitting across the table from various people; sometimes it´s a friend or family member, other times it´s a character or famous dead person (you should have heard my discussion with Hemingway the other night, that impish charmer...).  But you´re given the freedom to let your mind wander and create hundreds of imaginary scenes.

Then there´s people watching.  This has got to be my personal favorite.  Whether you subtly observe customers at nearby tables or gaze out the window at passers by, there´s surely never a dull moment.  Just last night I was seated next to a young couple who brough their newborn along to the restaurant, undoubtedly one of the first outings of its kind.  Initially there was much confusion over where to put the stroller:  Daddy repeatedly voiced his concern about blocking a fire exit and looked like he was about to pull out a measuring tape or a protractor, and Mommy wore a face that said, "if you don´t leave the damn stroller alone I´m gonna start a damn fire any minute."  All the while, the little angel slept soundly...that is, until the couple finally sat down, then Baby was up and at em!  Luckily, the little tyke was in good spirits, and especially smiley after I snuck in a few winks and silly faces.

Upon returning to my apartment, belly full and mind clear, I bask in the serenity of my cleansed mental palette and my overall detachment from the day´s work.  It´s definitely a practice that I hope to continue once I return home, as I have no shame walking into a restaurant and proudly announcing "party of one".

U + Me = 4ever

Go ahead...put it on repeat...you know you want to...

This isn´t an entry about my wonderful meal last night in El Borne, or is it about the clothes I found at this great hidden boutique down the street from me.  Instead, here´s some mind candy to chew on and save for later…

Crushes are a giant pain in the ass.  All the way around.  Any way you look at it.  If you´re the one crushing, you have to deal with the object of your affection running through your mind all day, thus causing exaggerated clumsiness on your part, more or less accompanied with bouts of nausea at the mention of their name, and just a general sense of forgetfulness as the majority of your brain cells are consumed with the task of dreaming up your future China pattern after the two of you lovebirds get married.

But let´s turn the tables now.  Let´s say you’re the recipient of this crushy-crush.  Ninja-like instincts are required in order to cope with their most often pathetic puppy dog behavior, preparing yourself to see them at every (and I mean EVERY) corner you turn, the intense longing stare when you walk into a room making you think you have a booger on your face, and the biggest challenge of all, trying to figure out a way to let them know in a subliminal, kind, but indifferent manner that the feelings aren´t reciprocated.

Look, I´m not trying to sound like  a bitch, nor am I trying to come off as a heartless cynic.  I´m quite the contrary; anyone who has spoken 7 words to me knows that the blubbering commences when I´m exposed to even the slightest hint of romance.  But come on…the writing seems to be on the wall here, doesn´t it?  It just seems so apparent that we reduce ourselves to less than human creatures when it comes to tender issues of the heart… especially budding affection at that…

There´s just so much unnecessary distress when there´s a crush at hand.  Conversation comes about as easily as tap dancing would come to Dick Cheney.  And the abundance of bad jokes is positively devastating.  Oh but my favorite, really, is the awaked touching of any kind…the accidental nudge of an elbow that sends the crusher into an embarrassed tizzy, the inability to walk side-by-side without one person tripping because someone is too busy getting lost in the other person´s eyes…it´s all so utterly plaintive 

The last thing I want to sound like in this entry is a hypocrite.  I have had more than my share of awkward moments with the opposite sex as a result of major crushing, so many that my friends have actually created prose from my far from suave interactions, ie “pulling an Em”.  I get it.  I accept this tendency.  I don´t really have a choice; it happens whether I like it or not.  But now that I´ve seen it from the other perspective, I really am gonna try and cut the crap and be a little more put together.  Because all this just seems like a ridiculous, giant way of beating around the bush.

I do indeed find it hilarious that I´m now taking this oath to change when I know I´ll always be Em, and I´ll always be awkward.  But hey, a girl can dream, right?  I´ll just be a smooth operator on the INSIDE

How to Say "Troubleshooting" in Spanish

I´m amazed to reflect and remember that 8 days ago at this time, I thought my trip to Barcelona was going to be magical and flawless to a point that one day that girl from Little Miss Sunshine would be playing me in the Lifetime movie version.   Ah how naïve, how romantic I was to dream of such a fairy tale.

Let me tell you…I´d say about 9 times this week someone or something smacked me right in the face and yelled “HEY STUPID YOU´RE WRONG!”…to sum up, one of my two bags has been reported completely lost by US Airways, as in “sucker you´re never getting that thing back”…I blistered the bottom of my feet from walking over 8 kilometers in the blinding midday Barcelona heat on Saturday from my adorable yet not so forgiving Tory Burch patent leather flip flops (note to self, sweat and patent leather do not mix)…blew €60 on round trip taxis to the airport to personally hunt down my luggage, only to realize upon arrival that the claim sheet necessary for access to the baggage claim area was sitting on my desk at work…oh yes, and the cherry on top would be my attempt to get some sun outside of my apartment, enjoying my book on a lazy Sunday afternoon, only to be attacked by a flock of deranged pigeons over what looked to be an abandoned falafel under the bench I was sitting on…hey not all bad though!  I made friends with a gypsy woman who brought with her a team of biting flies and was wearing a pair of crocs that looked like she at half of them

But honestly, ya know what makes me feel the worst about all of this?  It´s the fact that I´m over here, in Barcelona, with an amazing opportunity for my future handed to me on a silver platter, and I´m complaining about it.  So on top of this horrible bout of frustration, homesickness, and several severe bug bites, I feel incredibly guilty.  I want to turn this thing around, more than anything, I just don´t know how to get rid of this feeling.  It´s like there is a constant weight on my shoulders of not belonging, feeling completely unnatural in this environment and not fitting in.

On the subway to work every day, I can feel every pair of eyes in the car are on me.  And not in a “Hey her hair looks great” kind of way.  They are unwelcoming stares, scopes from head to toe, analyzing my posture and immediately picking up my uneasiness.  Is it really that obvious that I am an American, that I´ve only arrived 8 days ago?  Perhaps I´d feel a little less pressure and stress if I didn´t feel like everywhere I go I had to impress someone or “fit in”.  That me, in all my Bambi-like confused glory, would be enough to encourage a friendly smile.  I do realize that this is making me sound like a scrawny, helpless freshman in high school, but I speak the truth.

I´m going to make it a point this week to figure all these emotions out.  I think if I begin to figure out what´s going on internally with me, the external occurrences will become more obsolete and of less significance to the success of my time here.  I am the one responsible for making this the trip of a lifetime, and it´s a chance I´m not going to let go.

Te Quiero, Juanita

My mother had a big concern that I would go to Barcelona and not come back to the states because I would meet the man of my dreams, a Spanish Casanova by the name of Juan Carlos.  And here, World, I announce to you that it is true, I have met the love of my life.  But her name is Juanita…and she is 6 months old.

I ran into Juanita and her owner last night right around the corner from my apartment.  There are many dog owners in my neighborhood and in the dim lighting I almost mistook her for a small black pup…that is, until she let out the cutest little oink I have ever heard.  My friend and I squealed (no pun intended) with delight when her owner gave us little treats to feed her, and naturally, that is how we fell in love.  The first thing I’m going to do when I get back to the states is find a pig retailer and get a Juanita of my own.  It’s very “Charlotte’s Web” chic, don’t you think??

My lovely friend Annette and I wined and dined at this hidden gem of a restaurant called Doble Zero last night.  Since I had had tapas for dinner the two nights before, sushi was sounding pretty divine.  Annette ordered enough sushi to feed a squad of Sumo wrestlers, and we stuffed ourselves to the brim.

What I loved about this place most of all, however, was the interior.  On the left-hand wall, there was an enormous mural of an ancient Chinese warrior, yet instead of smoothing the wall and evening the surface, the nooks and cracks were kept to give off a weathered feel.  As you can see, the ceiling was planked with dark wood panels in a diagonal formation, which really magnified the small space.  I definitely think I’ll be heading back for another sushi fix sometime soon…

And tonight, we dined together again!  Orígens is a tiny storefront in a ramblas spilling out from a large cathedral in the area of Barcelona known as “Born”.  There are many boutiques, restaurants, gelato shops, and other attractions that line the streets.  The nuance of this area is particularly special because it is where the young meets the old…many original buildings dating back at least a century are home to hip new shops.

Annette makes me wish I was European in the worst way.  Effortlessly stylish, trilingual, and a cross between a young Meryl Streep and Reneé Zellweger, she truly is the essence of cool.  What amazes me about the office is that everyone who works there is at least bilingual, and here I am doing my best to make my Spanish sentences come out in the right order.  I was discussing the school system in France with fellow intern David…not only is school much, MUCH cheaper in Europe (tuition is only about €3,000 a year for him in France), but he was required to take English as well as Spanish since middle school.  If the youth of America had opportunities like these, their potential would soar…

As for now, I must say adios…another early morning awaits, with new adventures ahead! 

5 O'Clock World

5 PM.  My feet had succumb to the binding instruments otherwise known as high heels.  I had switched to my Rainbows underneath my desk hoping no one would notice.  Nursing my 3rd Americano of the afternoon, I was attempting to retard the jet lag from setting in further.  Consequently, it was a struggle to hold a pen straight.  All concentration had gone out the window due to the enormous hole in my stomach called Hunger.  The small bowl of gazpacho I had for lunch hadn’t done much to sustain me through the afternoon.  An hour and 15 til freedom.

Not that I’m trying to complain about work…because really there is nothing at all to complain about.  I couldn’t imagine a more hospitable and welcoming environment to be thrown into; my coworkers are already regarding me and the other interns as part of the family, treating us to a lovely lunch on our first day.  This morning during the cab ride to the office, nerves practically oozed out of my pores, but as soon as I walked onto the 9^th floor I was treated with nothing but kindness and friendly smiles.

My favorite part of the day was my 2 hour discussion with one of the marketing directors of the company.  He was so welcoming to any and every question I had, and wasn’t hesitant to share any detail of his creative plans for the company.  We even realized we shared a common interest in street art.  Needless to say, I walked away from the conversation with a smile on my face and inspiration pulsing through my veins.

After work, I made my way to the middle of town to take a quick sweep through the well-known department store, Corte Inglés.  This place was like Macy’s on speed and steroids.  Their beauty department alone was like Ulta, Sephora, and every department store make-up counter rolled into one chaotic mess with foundation and mascara flying in every direction.  Pushed and shoved this way and that, I still managed to get what I needed and get the hell out of there.  Man, these Spaniards take this whole “Rebaixos” (sale) thing seriously!

I also had my first experience getting lost in Barcelona today!  But I am very proud to report that I managed to find my way back to my apartment without having to ask for help or jumping in a cab…thank goodness for iPhone maps!  I hopped out of my work clothes and into something more street saavy and immediately began my hunt for dinner.

I can tell the early evenings in Barcelona are going to be my favorite part of the day.  Meandering the streets and taking in the people as well as the storefronts in the warm summer night air is pure magic.  And I love being on my own schedule and no one else’s.  If I feel like lollygagging, I lollygag.  If I’m in a rush to eat up and get back to go to sleep, I do so.  But that hasn’t happened yet.  Every corner I turn, there’s something new to explore and absorb.  I can’t get enough.

Tonight, I ate at a swanky little self-serve tapas place, where I feasted on artichoke, tomato, and mozzerella skewers with a dollop of olive tapenade, goat cheese and tomato baguette, and Spanish ham on a mini croissant.  It was superb.  I’m really digging this whole tapa idea; it allows you to order several different things on the menu without overeating, and if you’re still hungry, you can try something else!

  

And for dessert, I just couldn't resist the adorable little cookie/truffle shop down the street from my apartment.  I went in and asked the shopkeeper in my best Spanish to select her favorite goody in the store and that's what I would have.  Giggling with delight as a little kid would in such a store, she selected the dark chocolate orange truffle.  I couldn't have done better myself.

Even the bag is adorable!

But alas!  Stupid me with the butterfingers dropped the whole thing in the street trying to get it out of the bag!  I was too embarrassed to go back and face my shopkeeper friends disappointment that her favorite dessert lay slain in the middle of Camino Princesa!  Guess I'll just have to wait until tomorrow night!

Plane Ol' Fun

A chihuahua in a sleeping bag.  An obese Irish man wearing suspenders that could take somebody's eye out if, God forbid, they snap off of his Jared from Subway-like pants.  An entire Indian family giving chain massages to one another on the floor.  Crazy bread lady refusing to release her baguette and subsequently being escorted out of the security line to a chamber far, far away.  Where do you find such a cast of characters, you ask?  Why the airport of course!

Airports are always a gold mine for the biggest freak shows on the planet.  I don't know what it is about flying that attracts the biggest nutballs the world has to offer, but I simply cannot get enough.  Countless times I find myself sitting at a gate and staring at someone so hard, in utter disbelief that this individual is from the same planet I am, that I almost feel compelled to mouth a silent apology.  Important word here is "almost".

This trip especially gave me extra giggles.  Not that the weirdos were any weirder today than before, but I was just so damn excited to get to Barcelona that I think I reached an entirely new level of ecstasy.  And now that I'm here, I'm pretty sure someone could staple my head to the carpet and I wouldn't really care.  I. Just. Can't. Believe. I'm. HERE!

Jet lagged? Yes.  Lost one of my bags? You betcha. Are the links and icons on my blog in Spanish?  Heck ya.  But no worry wart here.  Those things will work themselves out and all I care about now is starting my adventure.

After I arrived at my Goldie Locks of an apartment (not too big, not too small :)), I unpacked my things, showered up, and hit the streets.  I wanted to explore the neighborhood a bit, but since I'm meeting a family friend for lunch today, it didn't leave me much time.  But nearby streets are lined with cute cafes, gelaterias, tiny supermarkets, and dangerous looking stores (I say dangerous because they are dangerous to my checking account balance).  It seems like a wonderful little neighborhood with a mix between tourists and young natives...and there's a playground right outside the front of my building so I can see all the cute kiddies play!  Maybe I'll pick up a babysitting job on the side, who knows!

I cannot wait to start work tomorrow and already have my outfit picked out :) OCD I know but it's all the excitement!  Anyways, I better get going to lunch, and hopefully have my first taste of sangria!  More later!

My Week in Pictures

Folks...once again, I owe you an apology.  I have neglected the blog this week and I promise you I will not be making this a habit.  But with the trip approaching and an exciting new arrival to the family (my new nephew Liam!), I've been a bit preoccupied.  Frenzied.  Distracted.  And very much impassioned.

Anyways, I thought the best way to make up for lost time would be to share my important experiences this week in a series of pictures.  So I hope you enjoy the following!  And next time you'll hear from me...I will be at the airport on my way to BARCELONA! Oh I simply can't wait! :) Adios for now!

 

I went to go visit a friend in the city on a perfect summer evening and got to meet her adorable new labordoodle Hank!  Isn't he the sweetest thing?!  It has always been a dream of mine to get a bulldog puppy and name her Pokey...I'm still working on a way to hide her in my closet...

One of the most scrumptious meals I have had in a longggg time.  My mom and I took a hike up to Lake Forest, IL to dine at one of the best Italian restaurants around (in my humble opinion) called Francesca's Intimo.  I expected them to have more traditional Italian meals on the menu, but to my pleasant surprise, there were a few dishes that brought something different to the table...literally!  I chose linguine pasta served with a cold tomato sauce, and it is really a delightful summer meal.  The fresh tomatoes were tossed with garlic, basil and olive oil and then marinated all day in the fridge until served, and the flavor was out of this world.  And then came dessert, my favorite part, as you all know...and it was an even more difficult decision than my main course!  I couldn't resist the pistachio gelato profiteroles drowned in a warm dark chocolate sauce...and they were so good that I stopped speaking entirely and just shook my head in disbelief with every bite I took.  Definitely a meal worth the drive.

Baby Liam has arrived!  Isn't he the cutest thing?  You can just tell that someday he'll make the ladies swoon with those eyes.  I just bought him the cutest little 4th of July jumper today, I just wish I could see him in it!  Hopefully I'll get pictures sent to me in Spain...I can't wait to meet him in August!  

And finally...my bag is all packed and ready to go!  I am just itching to get on the plane tomorrow and start my adventure :) cue Peter, Paul and Mary...cuz I'm leaving on a jet plane!