mac 'n' cheese and milk

Okay. Not in that order. Certainly milk will come first, but that is totally what I am craving right now. And entire box of shapes kraft mac 'n' cheese (preferably spongebob) and a GIANT glass of 1% milk. Gah. I miss it so much. Especially the milk. Never in my life have I gone this long without it, and it's absolutely killing me!!

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, let me tell you 5 things that have happened here that wouldn't fly in the states:

1. Your teacher not showing up for class-- with no warning and no excuse. Thanks, Rocio. You surely are a class act.

2. Your professors asking you if you've been a "good girl" (yes, sexual tendencies are implied here). No. This didn't happen to me, but I was there when one of my professors asked a classmate of mine. He's a little creepy. Okay, really creepy. And probably would have been fired by now (in the US) with all of his implicit comments made in class. But in Spain, anything goes.

3. Watching the game without a drink in your hand. Gianna and I went to a bar in our neighborhood on Sunday to watch the FC Barcelona vs. Real Madrid "fútbol" game (the biggest rivalry here). As I looked around the bar, slowly (and by slowly I mean in the most American sense possible) sipping my Heineken, I realized that I was not only drinking faster than everyone else in the bar (majority of which were men), but more. I guess there's a first for everything. Oh, and by the way, I only had one (and maybe an eighth) of a drink, as I finished the rest of what Gianna did not want. Yeah...

4. Leaving your child-- no- infant unattended. Parents in general here are more lenient about controlling their children in public places, but this was the worst story I've ever heard (from a friend of mine, who witnessed it). Apparently there was a parent (mother or father I'm not sure, the details aren't important) who wanted to go into an alimentación store (Spain's version of a small, privately-owned grocery store). The stroller wouldn't fit in the doorway, so he/she just left the child outside the door. Yes. I know. Terrible in the US. Not a strange occurrence in Spain.

And now for my favorite (as this just happened yesterday)...

5. Your professor lighting up a cigarette in the middle of class (and yes, it was inside). I may have minded if it were anyone else, but I'll let it slide for Francisco. So here's the story: He had made a powerpoint presentation with a bunch of pictures on it, so we could make up sentences relating to the picture using subjunctive. The room was dark, and the sun had set. SO. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, he whips out a cigarette, lights up and starts smoking. My friend Mary turns to me, and we just look at each other (no need for words at this point) and laugh. About a minute or two go by before our professor even realizes what he's doing. haha. You know you're addicted when you don't even realize you're smoking a cigarette. Inside a building. Inside a classroom. While you're teaching a class. He was clearly embarrassed, but asked if anyone would be offended if he continued. No one minded. So he continued. Oh Spain... Gotta love it.

More random thoughts to come, I'm sure...

PARIS! finally

Sorry, folks. I realize I've probably been letting you down recently with my lack of posts, but here we go.

Paris. Was. AMAZING. It was probably my most anticipated trip- okay it WAS my most anticipated trip, and it certainly lived up to my expectations. I've realized at this point that I've been to enough countries in Europe to call myself a fairly-experienced traveler, and therefore deem my opinions fairly valid. I'm not an expert at this point, but I wouldn't exactly call myself a novice either, so I'm comfortable settling somewhere in the middle.

Okay. Paris. Finally. Let's just start from the beginning, shall we? I got to Paris, settled in, had the most delicious crepe of my life (ham, feta cheese, lettuce, tomato and onion), and set off to explore the city. My hostel was right in the Latin Quarter, so the first sight I set my eyes upon was the Pantheon. It was exactly what you would expect the Pantheon to look like, but so much better in person, obviously. As I was taking (probably too many) photos of the glorious building, I turned around and caught my first glimpse at the great icon of Paris: the Eiffel Tower. Woah. It was such a shock that I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing for a good 3 seconds or so. Maybe that's a little dramatic, but it's no exaggeration.

After literally losing my breath at the sight of the Eiffel Tower, we wandered around the Latin Quarter, into a Starbucks (which is apparently the best place to get coffee in Paris, go figure), crossed the Seine River, to Notre Dame. Yes, Notre Dame. The church of all churches (other than St. Peter's Basilica, of course) if you're Catholic. The sound of the church bells and the distant drumming of street performers engulfed my eardrums, and I was in heaven. We walked inside, as entrance to the church is free (my favorite word), and just happened to stumble upon mass, which was starting within 10 minutes of our arrival. Although I didn't comprehend a word of mass, as I don't speak french, I was still blown away by the feeling the it gave me. It was, ironically enough, the only mass I have been able to attend thus far, but I am so glad I did. I needed that mass so much. And thank goodness the bulletin they handed us had the readings in english. It is so powerful, though, to realize that God has no language barriers, and I was able to be part of that.

After mass, we wandered all the way across the city to the Eiffel Tower. I took about a thousand pictures, from every angle I could possibly think of, and then we settled down to watch the most spectacular light show I have ever witnessed. I don't know if it was because it was on the Eiffel Tower, or because I was in Paris, or what, but this show was better than any light show I had ever witnessed at Disney World, or otherwise (though I'm pretty sure the only other light shows I've seen have involved Mickey Mouse). Amazed with the mere 6 hours or so I had been in Paris, I enjoyed the most delicious dinner 20 or so euros could buy: avocado with vinaigrette sauce for starters, duck and roasted garlic potatoes for dinner. Needless to say, I only needed half a day to fall in love with Paris...

The next day, we opted for the FREE (that favorite word of mine) 4 hour walking tour- SO worth it. We witnessed actual bullet holes from WWII in the police institute, the world's first facebook account on pont neuf, and ile de la cite. We saw the académie française, the louvre, the opera house, the tuileries gardens. We discovered that place de la concorde, the former location of the guillotine during the revolution, means "place of peace" (Irony?). We jumped for joy in front of the arc de triomphe, and were talented enough to have captured it in a photo, saw the eternal flame of France, and finally, walked the champs elysées. By night, we walked along the most inappropriate street of my life, witnessed the lights and windmill of Moulin Rouge, and I ate the most delicious warm goat cheese salad.

On our last day in Paris, we met Mona (the Mona Lisa, that is), ate a scrumptious salmon and rice dish, admired (and bought) some street art, and finally climbed the Eiffel Tower (well, more like rode up)! Unfortunately, the top was closed, and we were only able to make it halfway (giving me yet another reason to return to Paris), but the view was still just as outstanding. And to top of the trip, we ended the day with chocolate crepes and berets.

After a missing train, the slowest taxi ride of my life, getting dropped off at the wrong terminal, having to take a shuttle to the complete opposite end of the airport, and running up several steep inclined moving walkways, we finally made it to security, on the airplane, and eventually home. In Madrid, that is.

halloween weekend

Okay. I'm way behind on these, and I'm sorry. But let me just tell you about my halloween weekend...

First of all, Spanish men are creepy. And I thought American men were bad enough. Went out Friday night (the 30th), and it was interesting, to say the least. I mean, I've heard that European men are more forward, but I was not expecting what I experienced that night. Saw my friend Colleen get attacked my 2 guys, both of them forced their tongues down her throat- even AFTER she was literally using all of her force to push them away. Talk about desperate. Actually, I'm not even sure if desperate is the right word. I honestly can't think of a word to describe it, but it was bad. Really bad. On the other hand, I was pretty much labeled as the American bitch. Probably because I was the only one who was blunt enough to just tell everyone to go away. I'm just glad I avoided any unnecessary groping/hitting on. Ugh. Weirdest night of my life.

Other than the creepy guys, the weekend was AMAZING! It was fun to just dance with the girls, and going home at 6am is always a treat. Rented some row boats the next day in Retiro and just laid down and enjoyed the nice weather. Went to El Rastro (the flea market that happens every Sunday in the city) on Sunday, and saw 500 Days of Summer (again!). Ah. I can finally say that Madrid is home. Weird, I know, but I just love it here.

words to live by

I love finding inspirational quotes, especially when they come from homework. It makes the task a lot more enjoyable, and certainly more worthwhile. Here's what I stumbled across about a week ago:

"I think a change is good for everyone at any moment, whatever it is you're doing. Change always revitalizes, and demands courage." -Pedro Almodóvar

I think this struck home for me so much because I have dealt with so much change in my life, and not always the good kind of change, if you know what I mean. Even now, I'm dealing with change every day, good and bad. This quote is just so relevant to my life right now, and it reminds me that, no matter what kind of change you experience, good or bad, the outcome is always up to you. So will you make this change a positive one, or a negative one? I say positive.

Speaking of change, this is the longest time I've gone without going to mass. So I'm doing my best to make this change a positive one (though I must admit, it's not easy). Bringing my Bible was probably the best decision I made in the process of packing. Here's some positivity to live by:

"Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

"Let your life be free from love of money but be content with what you have, for he has said, 'I will never forsake you or abandon you.'" Hebrews 13:5

I like these two for completely different reasons. The first, because just reading the words aloud makes you appreciate the beauty of life, and most importantly faith, and because you have to read it more than once to understand what faith truly is. The second, because I would love for America to read those words. Some people just don't appreciate what they have. Some people don't realize how fortunate they truly are; like all the money in the world wouldn't be enough for them. If they would only realize that they don't need money to get to heaven...

Didn't your mother ever tell you NOT to accept food from strangers?

Yes, she probably did.

I could sit here and tell you every single detail about Lisbon (Lisbon, Portugal for those of you who are unsure of where it is), but I won't bore you with everything. Only the good stuff for you all. Only the good stuff...

We got to Lisbon Saturday morning, October 24, and within maybe an hour of being there, we found an outstanding view. This is honestly one of the most beautiful cities I've been to. It is a city that thrives on simplicity, and bright yellow trolleys, of course. Every view I saw was breathtaking.

After wandering around for a few hours, seeing Lisbon's traditional flee market that happens every Saturday, going to a free Portugese wine tasting, and going on a free (yes, free) trolley ride through the city, we had the most wonderful dinner 26 euros could buy. The meal included appetizers, soup, main course, dessert, wine and bread, of course. To top it off, the food was accompanied by Portugal's traditional music, Fado- such a cultural experience.

The following day, our group split up: half wandered the city while three other girls and I went to the monastery. As you can imagine, it was gorgeous. High ceilings, marble pillars, stained glass windows, the whole shabang. After admiring the gorgeous architecture of the church, collecting that Sunday's readings, wandering through a park and settling by the river for about 30 minutes, the girls and I decided to head back to meet up with the rest of the gang for lunch.

During our saunter back through the park toward the trolley (that would take us back to the hostel), we noticed so many people outside: picnicking and enjoying the beautiful weather. As typical, starving college students do, we stared, and probably drooled a little bit, as the jealousy of their full bellies (and our empty ones) set in. Luckily for us, they noticed. Or at least one man did because he called us over, only to offer us some chicken, bread and (obviously) wine. He didn't speak english. Or spanish. Neither did the other people with him. They seemed harmless enough though; we were starving, and well, it was free, so we accepted the food. We later figured out that he was from some retired people association of some sort (he was wearing a name tag). The language barrier was probably the best part about it though. No, sir, no matter how many times you say, "Elvis bourga Portugal," we still don't speak Portugese, and we still have no idea what you are saying.

Needless to say, Lisbon was awesome, and certainly a weekend I will never forget.

Is it bad to black out in the Royal Palace?

Yes. It is.

Last Friday, October 23, I went on a tour (free, of course) of Hapsbourg (basically a neighborhood in Madrid) and the Royal Palace. It was such an amazing experience. The detail in some of the rooms of the palace was so outstanding it was hard to believe it had been around for that long. Can you even imagine how long that sort of thing would've taken back then? I can't. Unfortunately, we couldn't take pictures because I would've loved to have shared the beauty of this place. That is, until I couldn't see it anymore...

Okay. So I've had my fair share of black out spells, all at the most inopportune times: twice in church, once while driving, once in the shower, and now, once in the Royal Palace in Madrid, Spain. I can't say it was the best experience ever, but it sure will be one for the books. Maybe I'll tell my kids some day, "You know, your mother has blacked out in the Royal Palace of Spain..." Then again, maybe not. Regardless, I sure won't forget that tour. What a memory.

pick-pocketing is REAL

Okay. Story time.

Let me start you off with a little background info. A couple weeks ago, my friend Dana was on the train, holding her clutch by her body- not being stupid. Once the train got pretty crowded she noticed some guy kept bumping into her, and thought to herself, "That's weird." A couple stops later, the train jerked, and she felt his hand in her clutch (which was touching her body, by the way). She quickly pulled away, and nothing was taken. Turns out, he had his jacket slung over his arm, got so close to Dana he could put the jacket over her bag, unzip it, and reach in unnoticed. Scary.

So today. There were 5 of us on the metro, a little scattered, and just chatting when about 3 creepy-looking (normal Spaniards, I guess) guys get on the train. My friend Mallory had her bag slung over her shoulder, and a little behind her- a normal position for a bag in the states (apparently, not a good idea in Spain). One of the 3 creepsters attempted the same "jacket-slung-over-his-arm-reach-into-her-purse" kind of move. Dana, who was standing right behind Mallory (and knows a thing or two about pick-pocketers), sees it and immediately slams Mallory's bag into her body. The creepster pulls away quickly, obviously caught red-handed, tries to speak english, and says, "Wot? Wot?"

As a witness of it all, I'd say it was pretty bad ass. Note to self: pick-pocketing is REAL.