tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14099129074502258512024-03-13T08:44:50.040-07:00Jet-set CupcakeHabía una vez una chiquita mona y simpática decidió vivir en España por un verano. Ella no podía imaginar las adventuras y las personas que iba a conocer y en cuantas maneras iba a crecer. Esta es su historia. xoxoJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-34793423333275767832011-08-22T11:49:00.000-07:002011-09-04T16:21:26.607-07:00Life Vest Under Your SeatA few weeks into my poetry class with Ernesto in June, he gave us a poem to read by Luis Garcia Montero, entitled, <a href="http://www.poemasde.net/life-vest-under-your-seat-luis-garcia-montero/">“Life Vest Under Your Seat.”</a> While I gobbled up the words and zoomed through the text, enraptured by the style and the theme, the other “students” stared at the poem blankly, occasionally looking up to feign a smidgen of caring. After going over the poem with us, Ernesto shot me one of those pleading, “please give me meaning to my apparent waste of time in this classroom four days a week at 9:00 am” glances and I raised my hand as quickly as I could. I opined that I adored the poem very much and that he could be expecting to see it as my final blog entry upon leaving Spain on August 18 – a date that seemed impossibly far away that, with any luck, I would never come close to reaching.<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Weeks passed, another new term of classes started up in July. Once again, Ernesto presented the poem. Not so shockingly, it went once again misunderstood and unappreciated by the sheeplike simpletons and I was left to give Ernesto one of those classic, “WTF?” head nods, which he responded to with a sly smile and a half-wink. I decided then that simply posting the poem would not be enough; I would re-write it to put a modern, authentic “me” spin on the whole thing. Yes, that's what I'd do on the eight and a half hour airplane ride, I'd decided.</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Once again, weeks passed, school was over for good, I went on the cruise, traveled around with L, and, one day, awoke finding it to in fact be the 18<sup>th</sup> of August and my Spanish parents downstairs ringing the bell to come take my luggage to the car and drive L and me to the airport. When I arrived at the terminal, in a hell of a daze of disbelief and sadness, I squealed and squeaked and exclaimed, “But I forgot something very important! I forgot to bring my copy of the Life Vest Under Your Seat poem! How am I supposed to re-write it if I don't have it?!” L looked at me a little strangely, as to any normal human being, there is no need to freak out about forgetting something once you're at the airport unless you left your passport or something else Very Essential behind.<br />
<br />
As I sat in my seat and buckled my seatbelt, I couldn't help but giggle when I looked up. See, I was sitted in the first seats of the mid-section of the plane and so instead of a tray-table in front of me, there was a little wall with nothing on it but a pouch of magazines and a sign:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFX_93OxlY5GdC55F5TNX2Y5YTY_FC8MwVC0DG-EZlgWMFTII-Ezg7snr_LwPOF5QGEBbcC4XttDGIBZYIpMDNx-M1NrzWFvYzg_BL75whTZEjh8i6IWMGeocpeaCgTYTKvWvAwzaMuvxC/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFX_93OxlY5GdC55F5TNX2Y5YTY_FC8MwVC0DG-EZlgWMFTII-Ezg7snr_LwPOF5QGEBbcC4XttDGIBZYIpMDNx-M1NrzWFvYzg_BL75whTZEjh8i6IWMGeocpeaCgTYTKvWvAwzaMuvxC/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+033.JPG" width="240" /></a></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">I wasn't sure whether my giggle would turn into a smile or into tears, and so I turned my iPod on to play "Only Exception" on repeat and smile up until tears would win out everytime at the point in which she sings, "I've got a tight grip on reality but I can't let go of what's in front of me here. I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up; leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream."<br />
<br />
As it turned out, I spent the whole flight back going between crying, sleeping and eating then more crying with a little sleeping and eating. There would have been not enough focus to write something so highly anticipated. Ernesto wrote on my Facebook the day I got back, “Le echo algo en tu blog,” and there are no words to describe just how important and squishy that made me feel! I assured him it was coming – to have patience as I promised to write it and post it this weekend; that I certainly hadn't forgotten.</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">And so I put it off until today (Sunday, 21/8) – and I can say in all honesty that I couldn't have written a truer version of this wonderful poem if I'd started it the second I left. Mixing the original structure with my own feelings and experiences all while translating it from Spanish to English has calmed me like nothing else could all day long.</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><3</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">XOXO</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Jet-set Cupcake<br />
<br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVPwVTK8AYQC0ZHlYgv9y4sIf3Gl2dGNnei4FcC_Ya8sem9HiOnfG0A54rrorGjKTasCJ9o87hj1sLafuCuTYWkLdyVivxZme3DZw6KFKob8tliPd9SOox3MM6uBUpIBLc6KFd4Wm1Fxm/s1600/AugSept2011+002.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVPwVTK8AYQC0ZHlYgv9y4sIf3Gl2dGNnei4FcC_Ya8sem9HiOnfG0A54rrorGjKTasCJ9o87hj1sLafuCuTYWkLdyVivxZme3DZw6KFKob8tliPd9SOox3MM6uBUpIBLc6KFd4Wm1Fxm/s320/AugSept2011+002.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_h9dY-dXYtGBk4lzhnaqsWjOSByO5ue94Zg55_oqHqnFFTAuXYJhd-V7HCXpuWiLMjOlEIXiADNjkkh4Vglf1aGhYs3wHDGfxG7k_UAYQMWVNOtf1vJN6wbwBby88Mq33ALN9jinlRfCH/s1600/AugSept2011+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_h9dY-dXYtGBk4lzhnaqsWjOSByO5ue94Zg55_oqHqnFFTAuXYJhd-V7HCXpuWiLMjOlEIXiADNjkkh4Vglf1aGhYs3wHDGfxG7k_UAYQMWVNOtf1vJN6wbwBby88Mq33ALN9jinlRfCH/s320/AugSept2011+009.JPG" width="240" /></a></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>Life Vest Under Your Seat</i></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">(Chelly's Version)</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Good afternoon ladies and gentleman,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">and Madrid already behind me,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">the exquisite, old buildings of Spain</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">framing a jaded, hardened yet delicate girl,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">good afternoon ladies and gentleman,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">we're currently flying high at an altitude of two thousand feet,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">high like my sanguine hopes</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">after responding to your first email, a question,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">you asked could you show me around the city sometime, </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">according to international regulations,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">you'll find four emergency doors on this aircra<span style="font-style: normal;">ft,</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">or how about a stroll around Parque Europa, maybe cupcakes in Retiro,</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">living without expectation, practically limitless</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">the many ways the nighttime looked, we'd watch clouds</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">turn into stars, always taking the night bus</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">always amusingly too late for our own good,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">you giving me the window seat; your favorite seat,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">we're flying at a velocity of nine hundred</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">kilometers, I told you</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">the truth; how I felt,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">that last night after a picnic turned to stone tears,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">because I want to remember you at home, cabbaging,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">preparing for long walks with copious amounts of water bottles,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">under the sweating, cornflower sky</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">of Spain's late afternoons,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">sweaty like the two basking in the glow of half-light,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">with Madrid already behind me,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">the truth; how I felt,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">they ask us to please use</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">our seat belts, not to unbuckle them</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">until the captain has turned off the seat belt sign,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">make sure seat-backs,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">you have to message me, are in the upright position.</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-65400278191019351352011-08-22T11:46:00.005-07:002011-10-08T14:39:59.452-07:00Day 81: The Day I Once Believed Would Never ComeAfter such an emotionally charged night, waking up early was certainly not what I wanted to do. But waking up early and facing the fact that my Spanish parents were going to be buzzing the doorbell at any moment and I still wasn't packed and wanted nothing to do with leaving my beloved Spain? THIS was the LAST thing I wanted to do.<br />
<br />
Unsurprisingly, I was a bit of a mess. I scrambled to pack things and before I could even get my shoes on, my madre was buzzing for me to open the door so that Jesus could come get my Giant Pink Suitcase. As they walked into L's apartment I smiled, flustered, and attempted Spanish but my words flailed in my throat where the tears seemed to be silently gathering themselves, waiting for the last of the last goodbyes when they would burst out all over my face and consume my 9 hour plane ride and soak my sleeves in snot.<br />
<br />
I hopped around, trying to get my shoe on when L impatiently told me to sit down and she'd put it on for me. Cruz laughed and joked, "You're such a disaster you can't even get your sneakers on without help!?" Haha. Fact.<br />
<br />
Within a few minutes Jesus had (miraculously) moved all of my luggage out of L's apartment, down 4 flights of stairs and into the trunk. We were "ready" to go.<br />
<br />
On the short drive to the airport, my padre managed to take the wrong exit and smiled at me and said he was just trying to help my mission of never wanting to leave Spain by helping me be late for my flight. :) The man's adorable words made me smile and giggle for the first real time all morning and I was more than grateful for this. Plus, I knew that in some little way, it wasn't a complete joke. My familia did not want to see me leave any more than I did... <3 And I felt it so strongly to be the truth all the way to the airport.<br />
<br />
When we got there, they helped me unpack and find my gate but before long it was good-bye hugs and Jesus needing to return to Alcala as he'd already missed a lot of work that morning to take me to the airport. I thanked them for the ride and later in an email Jesus would tell me, "It was nothing - I do that for all my children." <3<br />
<br />
The remaining few hours waiting at the airport?<br />
<br />
Bittersweet.<br />
<br />
L did her best not to acknowledge that we were a few minutes away from possibly never seeing each other again and instead showed me silly pictures on her phone and helped me repack my suitcase so that it met the weight limits assigned by the airlines. She refused to cry when I started up and tried to keep me perked up.<br />
<br />
And then before I knew it, I was in line for the security checkpoint.<br />
<br />
And she was on the other side of the rope.<br />
<br />
She smiled and I tried but standing there in that line - facing the great unknown before me and willingly leaving behind the country and the family and the girl I'd grown to love and call home - inspired in me the most ineffable feeling I'd felt in a long, long while. I already missed and longed for what was still in front of me for the next few seconds. Life felt uncharacteristically hopeless for a split second.<br />
<br />
I went to grab a bin to put my shoes, coat and laptop in and as soon as I set it down and looked inside a warm feeling of succor bloomed inside of me and embraced my trembling little body.<br />
<br />
"LARISAH!" I screamed.<br />
<br />
She looked up and I showed her my treasure beaming. There, in that bin, was a tiny little euro penny sent as my last European message of love and reassurance from Conor. <3<br />
<br />
L smiled and with that (and a few other words), I was on the other side.Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-32626213925537616502011-08-22T11:46:00.003-07:002011-10-12T18:05:01.166-07:00Day 80: Bags to Baggage: Verbal Scars and Illuminated TruthsTwenty-four hours.<br />
<br />
That's all that remained of my crazy Spanish summer adventure.<br />
<br />
Had I not been planning this last day in my mind for the past few weeks, I would have probably been a wreck - but, happily, I knew just what I would do on my last day. I headed into Madrid and began my usual walk through Malasana, Fuencarral, Chueca, Grand Via, Sol and Opera. I was on a mission: I wanted that one really dorky/touristy pink and green bag I'd been eying all summer long but had resisted.<br />
<br />
It was the bag that had "MADRID" scribbled all over it in sparkles. It was the bag that I would wear the hell out of, proudly and with an air of humbled superiority (if that's even possible), all over America. It was the bag that would loudly proclaim, "YES, I'm proof that Chelsea was in Madrid and loved every minute of her time here. Don't you wish you'd had the amazing opportunity and balls to jet-set to another country as amazing as Spain, yourself!?"<br />
<br />
I'd seen it virtually everywhere all summer - in kiosks on the street next to the postcards, in little touristy shops, in big touristy shops - just everywhere. So when I reached Sol and Opera (the touristy shop capital of Madrid) and had not seen ONE pink and green version of the bag, I began to stress. I walked in a loop and tried again, purchasing those crazy pink Arabic pants I'd also been craving all summer (thinking they'd be perfect for Portland's love of being uniquely weird) and a few little things for L along the way. Still, no bag. It was getting late and it was almost time to pick up L from work for the last time to go on our picnic. "One more store," I thought to myself.<br />
<br />
And there it was, hiding in the corner. Finally!<br />
<br />
I was exhausted from my hunt and walking all over Madrid when I finally arrived at the San Bernardo station to meet L. We journeyed a little further, seeing as it wasn't quite sunset time yet, to get a Starbucks mug for part of my mom's souvenir and then headed to our colinas at the Buenos Aires station.<br />
<br />
As we passed the market where she'd first taken me mysteriously months earlier to buy sushi for our first picnic atop the gorgeous little hills overlooking the breathtaking city of Madrid, I smiled. As we passed the fire station headquarters where the second time we picnicked atop the gorgeous little hills she took me around, insisting this would be a shortcut, but quickly realizing (but not admitting) that she was sorely mistaken and we'd had to climb mountains of stairs to even reach the base of the hills, I giggled. As we passed the gravel pathway, I looked up at the sky, remembering the night we went there to watch the solar eclipse and how she helped me study for my final the next day, all while looking everywhere in the night sky as impatient as a small but adorable child for the missing moon, I gazed over at her. As we passed by the first hill where she'd first kissed me that night in early June when we'd flirted and feasted and she'd tested my stubbornness, ultimately giving in with a whispered, "Puedo?" in my ear, I melted and squeezed her hand.<br />
<br />
In a mere few months, this was what my life had turned into.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8RedMAGb0rCXi3ic5tfJGJxfSAgyTZl7agHUti1IuN8lFllZWzYSNf1zqtf5se72GDHzNynHb4cQow848KlW7yvvueHJ7-9cQLFjsdQj4QT-hVbaaivEXLgUz4KHm7L_O3otpH8UVe-z/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+019.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8RedMAGb0rCXi3ic5tfJGJxfSAgyTZl7agHUti1IuN8lFllZWzYSNf1zqtf5se72GDHzNynHb4cQow848KlW7yvvueHJ7-9cQLFjsdQj4QT-hVbaaivEXLgUz4KHm7L_O3otpH8UVe-z/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+019.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzfbAiaywcziQjw_wsSM2nj6Mu2L9dvudKNHlV-ww9TBFK0hbyffnfrgUPj-zLxs94GWbCElTWP0TQczByQy_IHAB5-lMXuqzqU7Dglv8muRx01mI9ByQurwDqwOD6gtn691TOzRNTaUuG/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+021.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzfbAiaywcziQjw_wsSM2nj6Mu2L9dvudKNHlV-ww9TBFK0hbyffnfrgUPj-zLxs94GWbCElTWP0TQczByQy_IHAB5-lMXuqzqU7Dglv8muRx01mI9ByQurwDqwOD6gtn691TOzRNTaUuG/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My whole life I'd always said that if (or, rather, when) I am to die, above all other causes of death, I should be very pleased to die in a plane crash. First, dying doing what you love (traveling), is always the way to go. Second, I figure there'd be a brief panic, a nice high (if the oxygen masks swing down and you believe Chuck Palahniuk when he says the pure oxygen acts not as a way to re-pressurize the cabin but as a pure drug to instantly calm you) and then an ultimate, blithe acceptance of your looming death.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, when I've been all alone, I've laid still and pressed my mind for details of how I arrived here - into this perfect, blissful little state of existence - and wondered if on my plane ride over to Spain I didn't get my wish (to die in a plane crash) and this new life I was living in Madrid was just a form of heaven. I mean, damn, some philosophies even say you pick up right where you left off when you died - so maybe things just get a little more heavenly with each death/rebirth?<br />
<br />
Since arriving in Spain, life had seemed just that: Heaven on Earth. Now that I was about to leave, would it go back to seeming like normal life, or had I been so transformed here that my sense of celestial serendipity would continue with me as I was truly in a new stage of my life that was not based solely on my current location and acquaintances?<br />
<br />
As we sat, picnicking and burrito cuddling ourselves in the blanket, I pondered this for a moment and decided on the latter explanation of things. Just at that moment, my madre called to confirm at what time she needed to pick me up the next morning to take me to the airport. After talking for a bit, she told me that my padre would be taking the morning off of work to accompany us there!! AWW!!! <3<br />
<br />
This news left me happier than could be! We burritoed further into the picnic blanket and laid there giggling and full from our mini feast.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1TDMFUZXLW8RMrzw6qq52Liz6kJQxwIlZD31DWyD7VEgyCTvIEua9fBd6vZmXadU_UOvj-YLL7j23mq6RyVddcL0wkhEK4OjduybeCEpu1Tg-8O3KoY_Xkzgn1xet8R4O_OCV0LACyug/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+027.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1TDMFUZXLW8RMrzw6qq52Liz6kJQxwIlZD31DWyD7VEgyCTvIEua9fBd6vZmXadU_UOvj-YLL7j23mq6RyVddcL0wkhEK4OjduybeCEpu1Tg-8O3KoY_Xkzgn1xet8R4O_OCV0LACyug/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+027.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8RedMAGb0rCXi3ic5tfJGJxfSAgyTZl7agHUti1IuN8lFllZWzYSNf1zqtf5se72GDHzNynHb4cQow848KlW7yvvueHJ7-9cQLFjsdQj4QT-hVbaaivEXLgUz4KHm7L_O3otpH8UVe-z/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+019.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><br />
... and then it started.<br />
<br />
Tiny comment by tiny comment and suddenly L was alluding back to our first night on that hill when she'd defensively jested, "You get all this, and a summer fling, too!" I'd vowed to myself to make her see that this was not how I considered her or us. All summer I'd thought I was on the right path to accomplishing this self-made goal until I had a brief moment of questioning on the train ride to Barcelona and cried and blogged about it, saying that if she ever still thought such a thing, I wouldn't know what to do with myself and the failure this would implicate.<br />
<br />
And so she said it. She said she had only been a summer fling to me and she knew it. Caught completely off guard, her words sliced me open one by one until I felt my summer joy start to flood out of me. Maybe this was it. Maybe this all was just a dream and now I was being rudely placed back into the old world where I truly belonged. Maybe this was all just a sweet mirage of happiness and by the time my plane took off the next morning, it would all be just a distant memory of "that one time" when I was "blissfully happy."<br />
<br />
I felt deflated. I felt angry. I felt deceived in a backwards sort of way. If she wasn't ever going to open herself to believing that I'd truly cared about her all summer and would continue to no matter what happened when I returned, why had I worked so hard to try to make her feel loved? It was a self-defeating battle on her part and one that I couldn't pick her up out of no matter how hard I tried without losing my own identity and autonomy. I knew. I'd been there too, once, and hoped so hard that I would never be back there.<br />
<br />
Silently I packed everything up, put on my shoes, and walked away. We walked back to the metro stop without a touch, a glance or a squeak. We took the metro and the ice wall between us froze over even further until it seemed impregnable. See, I wasn't the type to get mad at her. Her mad at me? Almost on the daily. But me mad at her? And mad at her to the point of wanting to get so far away from her that I couldn't hear or see her ever again for the foreseeable future like I've been known to get with just about everybody else? Unheard of.<br />
<br />
I could feel myself turning into the Ice Queen, my verbally inflicted wounds still gushing out hope and happiness, getting infected with disdain and fear and callousing over with inexplicable hurt and guilt. Her cautious gaze of curiosity burned in my peripheral vision and I wanted to spin around on my heels and yell at her, "ARE YOU HAPPY? PUSHING ME TO THE POINT OF THIS JUST TO PROVE I REALLY ALWAYS HAVE CARED ABOUT YOU? RUINING MY LAST, BLISSFUL NIGHT IN MY FAIRYTALE REALITY WITH YOU IN SPAIN! WAS IT WORTH IT?" But instead I bit my lip and looked straight ahead without blinking as long as I could until I felt hot tears graze my cheeks.<br />
<br />
She dared not look straight at me, but through the reflection of the metro window she could see the glint of the tiny shards of tears silently streaking my face. Millimeter by millimeter she edged herself closer to me until finally she was hugging me from behind. Her face was that of a guilty puppy who wasn't sure exactly what they'd done wrong - if anything - but saw that their force was much more than they'd realized. I didn't pull away but I continued glaring straight ahead, crying.<br />
<br />
As we got off the night bus a little while later, she tried her best to be lighthearted and grinned too innocently, "Are we just not going to talk for the whole way home?" I shot a look at her, and tilted my head just enough to indicate my best, silent "effoffyoujustruinedmylastnightbitch" nod. By the time we got home we quickly went to opposite rooms of the apartment so as not to have to interact.<br />
<br />
There have been very few times I have been so upset and angry that the only solution I can think of to calm myself has been alcohol. I can count MAYBE three total on my hand in my short lifetime. This? This was one of them. She fled to her room or the bathroom while I look a sharp right and went for the alcohol cabinet in her kitchen. A few small cupfuls of way-too-warm vodka and some swigs out of a juice container later, I was dizzy and in the mood for nothing but a pre-bedtime shower, as I would have no time in the morning for such nonsense.<br />
<br />
The scorching water (and, let's be real, the copious amounts of vodka downed in under five minutes) cauterized my verbally inflicted wounds and turned my hurt and anger into determination. Her insecurity would not win this time. It had been working overtime all summer long against me (and her) and I was not going to let it come out ahead just as we were nearing the end of our summer together. I had eight hours. That was enough to come clean.<br />
<br />
Still in my towel, I marched into her room where she lay in the dark, pretending to sleep.<br />
<br />
"Get up!" I roared, in a voice more stern and authoritative than I realized mine was capable of being.<br />
<br />
She groaned a sleepy, perturbed but timid groan and wiggled to shield herself from the bright light I'd just turned on.<br />
<br />
"GET UP!" I demanded, again.<br />
<br />
She rolled over.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if I would have ever said it had it not been for how the night turned out (and the help of the vodka later on), but back on the last day of school in July when I'd gone to meditate at the church in Alcala, I'd opened myself up to whatever message was out there for me, and this was it: tell her. I'd tossed it around and turned it over and over in my mind and knew she'd just find a way to take it as some sort of insult, or insult me with it. But it was one of those things that was so true and so dear to me that future implications or consequences for letting it free and illuminating it would be unequivocally worth it. And so I did.<br />
<br />
It was my bravest and truest act of the summer.<br />
<br />
She cried; she did, too; she wrapped me up in a snuggle ball; sleep came and everything was how it was supposed to be again (and even sweeter) - at least, until morning.<br />
<br />
XOXO<br />
Jet-set CupcakeJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-18415394281281780722011-08-22T11:45:00.009-07:002011-10-15T12:30:45.560-07:00Day 79: Home for LunchMy morning was blurry - literally. I made myself coffee with chocolate chips and had a part of a magdalena. I opened my suitcase and pretended to begin the daunting task of stuffing it full of the past three months of my life. I turned on MTV - Espana. But mostly, I just spent the morning with my view obstructed by all of the tears flooding my eyes and cheeks.<br />
<br />
There are some endings I'm good at - like death. <br />
<br />
Somebody dies? That means that they've moved on to a new, timeless dimension, but are not just GONE. Because death is so ineffable, I am free to define it however I wish, and thus if I choose to believe death is just an extension of life, then it is. And that's that.<br />
<br />
But then there are endings I'm just a mess with - like this one.<br />
<br />
The moment I get on that plane, this life I've come to know and love and cherish and all of the people and places that have made it what it is are just... GONE. No more Atocha - RENFE. No more tinto de verano. No more night bus. No more Kiko. No more Desigual. No more napolitanas de chocolate. No more green line to Chueca. No more walking down C/ Fuencarral to see my tattoo/piercing friend. No more school. No more walking by the big gate to the botanic gardens and looking to see if the beige high heel is still there. No more endless, fruitless searches for Hooters. No more receiving little tissues or lighters on the train with sweet little notes from people asking for money. No more being called "guapa" by strangers. No more being adored for being American. No more walks in Retiro. No more living in Spanish. No more humbling confusion because you have to take your produce to the lady in the produce section to weigh instead of taking it to the cashiers to weigh themselves. No more familia, no more L, no more Ernesto. No more.<br />
<br />
Sure, I could believe that the next chapter of my life will be just an extension of this one... but I know better than that.<br />
<br />
And so I cried. And cried and cried and cried.<br />
<br />
Just when the sniffles started and my vision was completely clouded by the droplets of fear and sadness, mi madre called.<br />
<br />
"Hola, guapa! Que tal?"<br />
"Hola..." *sniffle*<br />
"Como estas?"<br />
"Pues... un disastre... no puedo dejar de llorar esta manana..."<br />
*giggles* *insert remark gently telling me to calm the hell down*<br />
<br />
<3<br />
<br />
My madre had called to invite me over to the house for comida with my familia! I wiped the tears from my eyes and jumped in the shower, knowing this would be the last time I'd get to go home for a long, long time. Before I knew it, I was at the train station in Alcala...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zuN4zkHkvsYYuESxDfMTD666N03onGg94OmYFBCxmgnjqxgBEKeB3Nv-tyu3L5IyD3SLB1cKwP66YvlUzWTjM1zgVBDwsKaFmy8WBPaNVCP3UkW4TxQ3ftQa4PxwtedKee_95L40oDlX/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+001.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zuN4zkHkvsYYuESxDfMTD666N03onGg94OmYFBCxmgnjqxgBEKeB3Nv-tyu3L5IyD3SLB1cKwP66YvlUzWTjM1zgVBDwsKaFmy8WBPaNVCP3UkW4TxQ3ftQa4PxwtedKee_95L40oDlX/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+001.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcix0UrQZFzzdT141BGZw5gpNDNFXKiq-cIVjgH0Y_giOFYX9a6AgaAl1XMoqBcD8maD173q4EGLgdhVdF3S9YnFBUzOdDkihc0Jr-lOfDAZ0f6MtZR3KFDlX89HDeYuPxHBmIRnvcHPAd/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+002.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcix0UrQZFzzdT141BGZw5gpNDNFXKiq-cIVjgH0Y_giOFYX9a6AgaAl1XMoqBcD8maD173q4EGLgdhVdF3S9YnFBUzOdDkihc0Jr-lOfDAZ0f6MtZR3KFDlX89HDeYuPxHBmIRnvcHPAd/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
... and my madre was there with her car to pick me up and take me home where I knew I belonged for my penultimate afternoon in Spain.<br />
<br />
We ate comida. We watched TV (but Entrefanstasmas wans't on... poo). We drank tea and had cookies and chocolate (my madre told me that when she called my padre to tell him I'd be home for lunch, he asked in a frenzy if we had enough chocolate or if he needed to pick some up on the way home?! CUTE!!!). We chatted it up in Spanish.<br />
<br />
I truly felt like I was home. <3 And I loved every single minute of it!<br />
<br />
At some point in the conversation, my madre asked if I needed a ride to the airport on Thursday, as she'd be more than happy to give me one. Aww!! I told her not to worry - that I could bus it there. But she told me that was nonsense and she knew just how much luggage I had and that she'd be there at 8 am to get me. Timidly, I asked if L might be able to come along, and my padre jumped in and assured me that "claro que si" L would be accompanying us to the airport. Cute!!<br />
<br />
Before long it was a little after five o'clock and I needed to start heading back to Torrejon. I had hoped so hard that my padre would offer me a ride on his moto back to the train station - heck, I'd even been sure not to wear a skirt or a dress so that he could. So when he smiled at me and asked if I'd like a ride there, I was beyond blissed out - I was overjoyed!!<br />
<br />
We walked downstairs to the basement garage to hop on the moto, but just as my padre opened the door, he quickly shut it again and turned to me, a sly smile tip-toeing across his face. I looked up at him, eyes wide, and cocked my head a little in a questioning gaze. His smile no longer so sly, he told me he had something he wanted to give me, "so that you can always remember us - your family here in Spain." I laughed and asked him what it was he wanted me to have? His eyes lit up and he said, simply,<br />
<br />
"That one shirt of mine that makes you giggle every time I wear it."<br />
<br />
I stared at him, overcome with the adorableness of his gesture and when he asked if I wanted it, I shook my head furiously, "yes!!" It was the shirt from Zara that had what looked like the Beatles in spacesuits on it with one of them giving bunny ears to one of the others and an arrow pointing at him saying, "The Asshole." The first day I'd seen my padre wear it early in the summer I hadn't been able to stop laughing and asked him if he even knew what that meant. I'd LOVED that shirt, so so so much, from that day on; every time he'd wear it, I'd been equally as amused and he'd find joy in my amusement and somehow a story would come out about my hermana and her experience with English cuss words or my madre would say something hilarious... That shirt just succinctly captured the essence of just how Amazingly Wonderful my familia truly was and what a wonderful summer I'd had being a part of it. <3 <br />
<br />
He told me to wait there and he ran upstairs to get it. When he returned, he'd folded it into a tiny lump of fabric so that I could fit it into my bag, and told me to make sure I washed it before I wore it, as he'd just worn it the other day and hadn't had time to clean it himself. Haha. Then he told me that he expected me to wear it and send my familia pictures of me proudly displaying it around America!<br />
<br />
After he got me helmeted up and we were on the moto, he asked if I didn't just want to go to the next train station up instead of going to the one in Alcala, so that I could get more time on the moto. :) I giggled and said I had a roundtrip train ticket from Alcala, but I supposed it might work at the other station, too, and either way OF COURSE I wanted a longer moto ride!! ^_^<br />
<br />
We zoomed around town and once again I felt like the happiest girl in the world, the roasting heat of the Madrid sun being no match for the cool breeze of the open road, my hair dancing in the wind and my smile so big I was afraid I'd get bugs in my mouth! True happiness - no joke.<br />
<br />
When we got to the next town's train station, my padre gave me a huge hug good-bye and told me that he'd loved having me there this summer and the family would miss me a lot. He told me I would be welcome back home any time and that I was a true part of the family now. And then I saw a few tiny tears fill his eyes and he smiled and said he'd wait for me, just to make sure my ticket worked at this station.<br />
<br />
It was the sweetest of goodbyes. I adored it. <3<br />
<br />
And with that I ran inside of the station, realized my roundtrip ticket indeed did not work at that station, but bought a one way to Alcala (I'd wanted to buy a Universidad de Alcala shirt all summer long and now was my last chance - plus, L wouldn't be home for another few hours, so I had time to hang out in my home town for a little bit longer) anyway and went up to the tracks. There, down below, I could see my padre on his moto, looking up, waiting for me. I smiled and waved at him and he waved back. Just at that moment the train going towards Torrejon arrived and I slipped inside the station so that my padre wouldn't see me not boarding. When the train wizzed away, my padre was gone.<br />
<br />
I spent the next few hours taking pictures around Alcala of all the quotidian things I knew I'd grow to miss and even start to forget with enough time. I wanted to remember them for what they were and for how familiar they'd become to me. I took pictures of the train station sign, the rose gardens in the Plaza de Cervantes, of the storks and of everything in between on my walk from the train station to the Universidad.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivB2bf57N44-w4wE7ErKcA3VgUHE6zFauXphaGdtTRORi8sq9CMguq0jYYj1vnGQ1duF1Wzd21IiJXzYHcii7LALRwU4rAy8jhNjWQgaTcKcFaiWHvLmcJLPXz6Cy6L0ijvahv7dORqVF_/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivB2bf57N44-w4wE7ErKcA3VgUHE6zFauXphaGdtTRORi8sq9CMguq0jYYj1vnGQ1duF1Wzd21IiJXzYHcii7LALRwU4rAy8jhNjWQgaTcKcFaiWHvLmcJLPXz6Cy6L0ijvahv7dORqVF_/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+003.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFu6Tf5zfZmvUSEssO_oCK6vMm-wVCCDuC5hiFGAwwUU0xfMqWuwjW0RtDsgiIXS433s-1GgTWBnGyhzf72nsEH-CIY0IH0mLFvpIAsh9r4XHBRghpFQfmx87lojjYYSgaFb8YtwAsKMR-/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+004.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFu6Tf5zfZmvUSEssO_oCK6vMm-wVCCDuC5hiFGAwwUU0xfMqWuwjW0RtDsgiIXS433s-1GgTWBnGyhzf72nsEH-CIY0IH0mLFvpIAsh9r4XHBRghpFQfmx87lojjYYSgaFb8YtwAsKMR-/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Plaza de Cervantes and a rose.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW5RbSLlEcA7ZtQ_vehGTRuTwfyGL7i3kksC-HWuoY99XZH2k4NcV8uZyt6Bm4EYLZu0oayq95aSdYgXBbGlFo5G3W-qnQC-_kzOMhEAfi1vz7LWmLEJ4bBMOVqMfF7MPTDfNchlzsBPJB/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW5RbSLlEcA7ZtQ_vehGTRuTwfyGL7i3kksC-HWuoY99XZH2k4NcV8uZyt6Bm4EYLZu0oayq95aSdYgXBbGlFo5G3W-qnQC-_kzOMhEAfi1vz7LWmLEJ4bBMOVqMfF7MPTDfNchlzsBPJB/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+006.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6_Qpic2v2OmM20SV85DjlczH8pc-qDrjFtRVWOCh74i64lh69_7mEHWkeRRd__K6tEhb2KrCGbcuUac42NvuhnJTt7_1F6DfuaeFkjYpa23_PqeWrVtcWeYHgkU3tMeGSEA4Jj0RMDI2/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+009.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6_Qpic2v2OmM20SV85DjlczH8pc-qDrjFtRVWOCh74i64lh69_7mEHWkeRRd__K6tEhb2KrCGbcuUac42NvuhnJTt7_1F6DfuaeFkjYpa23_PqeWrVtcWeYHgkU3tMeGSEA4Jj0RMDI2/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+009.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> The super old church right next to my bus stop and across the way from my university</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">with the super old tower and some storks up there.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPeYi74pICp_p7Yoh38gEjK4dkmrOvqALDjA7ztffWVKyoBdsCvRaYecyDDdURUgiD7fnHNXJwYCR7xtUBKQ9cslWjwgXlyIaIJDjzrQ5xp0DevQE2ZMM-YtlR-Y2DWhtin68L6GVWKq4/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+008.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPeYi74pICp_p7Yoh38gEjK4dkmrOvqALDjA7ztffWVKyoBdsCvRaYecyDDdURUgiD7fnHNXJwYCR7xtUBKQ9cslWjwgXlyIaIJDjzrQ5xp0DevQE2ZMM-YtlR-Y2DWhtin68L6GVWKq4/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+008.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGH9kr_5nuoGrXC0I5UIO41q8MFM5vYHg5WJFNn_XmAsOQ6ADoXoD7vdelzy4rYyuYghIfIyf5ZIKC0YsJSDdiA42y1KAAGCth_l4D5OxmAaHYFFHMSKLtkaNTJGJbmWpNBxXlnvlbf9yV/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGH9kr_5nuoGrXC0I5UIO41q8MFM5vYHg5WJFNn_XmAsOQ6ADoXoD7vdelzy4rYyuYghIfIyf5ZIKC0YsJSDdiA42y1KAAGCth_l4D5OxmAaHYFFHMSKLtkaNTJGJbmWpNBxXlnvlbf9yV/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+007.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> A view from my university where Instituto de Franklin is located along with a view from the gate of the courtyard between university buildings where I'd study, meditate and eat my napolitana chocolate and drink my pina juice.</span></div><br />
I also bought my Universidad de Alcala shirt and a little key chain. I explored and explored, wanting to make a memory and seal the sights, sounds and smells of it all into my mind and heart, until L called to tell me she was on her way home.<br />
<br />
The rest of the night was low-key, just how I wanted my penultimate night to be after such a relaxing and slightly emotional day. <3 I knew this feeling of being at home wouldn't last much longer and I don't know when I'll feel this way again... and so I just basked in the comfort of it all.<br />
<br />
XOXO<br />
Jet-set CupcakeJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-44220237825120211582011-08-22T11:45:00.005-07:002011-10-08T12:43:47.589-07:00Day 78: McDonald's Euro Value Menu, Planking and a BusAnd then it was time to return home for the final time.<br />
<br />
I, however, was not so terribly ready for all of this journey's implications...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP1m5Op_-0LMujxnLXL0ME8nNLljWf3xjXun5jQeBUJtcR0ke0OWo-C9xJOPRFjAwAIqjFeyfgPScct0LUnKqurNGOuWXjZQjd0pM_11RTSwo0CE0UcDNGRADT3kNrih7c0Z-9h0xhSevH/s1600/GEDC4079.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP1m5Op_-0LMujxnLXL0ME8nNLljWf3xjXun5jQeBUJtcR0ke0OWo-C9xJOPRFjAwAIqjFeyfgPScct0LUnKqurNGOuWXjZQjd0pM_11RTSwo0CE0UcDNGRADT3kNrih7c0Z-9h0xhSevH/s320/GEDC4079.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Catching the bus back to Madrid meant that I would only get to "return home" one more time... meaning that not only would the next time I leave Madrid be not for a trip but for good... but that after these next few days, I no longer had an official "home" anymore again... :-/<br />
<br />
In order to forget about all of these undesirable realizations, L and I got our delicious 1 euro BBQ chicken sandwiches (one for there, one for the road)...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOeAAYAFtJD1CXkfwRNDRsSCDmk_kG3_NSWvfTtZjw_QdeqJKYa_JQbBkVuTmtfLzwDubCxANQz2tmE7F5x_1j6aPXIcLEgPMSUyjkbbxViH0e0PJzISuhzVwg5ByL9Wgn2wJwYtgO-MaC/s1600/GEDC4091.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOeAAYAFtJD1CXkfwRNDRsSCDmk_kG3_NSWvfTtZjw_QdeqJKYa_JQbBkVuTmtfLzwDubCxANQz2tmE7F5x_1j6aPXIcLEgPMSUyjkbbxViH0e0PJzISuhzVwg5ByL9Wgn2wJwYtgO-MaC/s320/GEDC4091.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><br />
and a 1 euro Kit-kat cone...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii67oyKPRVVn1Wrwuk1vIFROsloo2jYKDixN-mzx2HhrhPuTenMhvEiG7pGLuBzrmcgiXDfYRU59K3m3nAaes4J8mFAGUGAICWLx3ua4C2LBBoioCp9OaXeYlXkOeg0sVGGmniabgL6_0c/s1600/GEDC4086.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii67oyKPRVVn1Wrwuk1vIFROsloo2jYKDixN-mzx2HhrhPuTenMhvEiG7pGLuBzrmcgiXDfYRU59K3m3nAaes4J8mFAGUGAICWLx3ua4C2LBBoioCp9OaXeYlXkOeg0sVGGmniabgL6_0c/s320/GEDC4086.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYX6SL9Pz-9tLMgnm1oY3X6gXZXsRY-tviH_CcdHaOqDTEoOg97ON6mMXLhY36xxovOLH2D1v9LnXyozXDomCIWF6TjG59J0NZ6cJx8YL0bMAq_B0UBBK7sbZl2yMQCNgI4e3lhUwxHs2s/s1600/GEDC4085.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYX6SL9Pz-9tLMgnm1oY3X6gXZXsRY-tviH_CcdHaOqDTEoOg97ON6mMXLhY36xxovOLH2D1v9LnXyozXDomCIWF6TjG59J0NZ6cJx8YL0bMAq_B0UBBK7sbZl2yMQCNgI4e3lhUwxHs2s/s320/GEDC4085.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
and plopped our asses down in the middle of the mall/train station (they were connected... it was weird... but oh-so-convenient) to do one thing and one thing only: Foreign People Watch.<br />
<br />
<br />
Bliss.<br />
<br />
<br />
^_^ If ever the people get boring to watch (and, believe me, they don't), you can always switch to Shoe Watching and see a parade of gorgeously adorned tootsies left and right. Hee hee... oh non-American shoes... so beautiful... damn. High heels. Leather sandals. Happiness.<br />
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After our 6 euro gourmet lunch, we walked around the mall/station waiting for our bus' departure. A strange area of mosaic sculptures and lots of odd pictures with them later...<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbIqLyJZatHiDIveZHcTRON4NOEdx6BkCYsSJkAvAlbG6axyWyB8ru9BNbLRJELdkg_Adw7PLyw3RAT7ZwUVY7Dqm7rE2pZDIdcBMC0SeGhqJu7eT0Oiw1FrD7BPLicbrQz4nx_Rl04cwd/s1600/GEDC4094.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbIqLyJZatHiDIveZHcTRON4NOEdx6BkCYsSJkAvAlbG6axyWyB8ru9BNbLRJELdkg_Adw7PLyw3RAT7ZwUVY7Dqm7rE2pZDIdcBMC0SeGhqJu7eT0Oiw1FrD7BPLicbrQz4nx_Rl04cwd/s320/GEDC4094.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div><br />
we were on the bus (along with a bunch of really really Christian Africans...? Being an American, I have really only met African-Americans and not a whole lot of Africans and was surprised to observe that the two cultures, though stemming from the same continent, are absolutely nothing alike. Nothing.)<br />
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My first thought upon boarding thing bus? Boarding --> Planking --> Need Jenna Marbles Photo<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4gqNOjdhSNIQ28knVP5SxFsd3rEgRDKebe54poOdBGElWESRKGS0hcbJbPReNhPaBhSyQ5yAOYOKHgKFjuMS1_KDF2MTF8Wd1DQ1G3ojGQRSB1B-HULSOl8vdoDHFD-tQg1Hk0rEJmZaD/s1600/GEDC4095.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4gqNOjdhSNIQ28knVP5SxFsd3rEgRDKebe54poOdBGElWESRKGS0hcbJbPReNhPaBhSyQ5yAOYOKHgKFjuMS1_KDF2MTF8Wd1DQ1G3ojGQRSB1B-HULSOl8vdoDHFD-tQg1Hk0rEJmZaD/s320/GEDC4095.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Due to limited space, you can barely see what it is I'm doing. But rest assured... that is me planking on a bus on the south coast of Spain damnit! >_< It took a lot of crawling around and weird stares to achieve, okay?? Haha.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRimV13GtFIWrajZRSfnHtoMLRCNw-eefjtla6jbCcuamgX_3uSOPz8y2j4RATUwL-xhzEJiR5ruMNqhZtXXfYq5HpUc9lCCt5DRpZzPAfIWeNcSsaasB6gvh5t1NExhuZ0Jkg4lJUYbG/s1600/GEDC4096.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRimV13GtFIWrajZRSfnHtoMLRCNw-eefjtla6jbCcuamgX_3uSOPz8y2j4RATUwL-xhzEJiR5ruMNqhZtXXfYq5HpUc9lCCt5DRpZzPAfIWeNcSsaasB6gvh5t1NExhuZ0Jkg4lJUYbG/s320/GEDC4096.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92sreu1ryRpw_doCCQreYTNov3xbqv-H6RnlltvUtnoMLupI7hAAsGYIyBWtUeNluhKpcAtuRBGvZsEr0OdZnycZZcnVUcpRXJghIvEammGt7ee2woU5020YYsh41ZP23yrl3N-u5mAvV/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+112.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</div>The bus ride home was a little bit lazy and a little bit coquettish. I.e. Perfection in a bus trip. ^_^ Still, I was so happy to be home at the end of a beachy weekend in the Costa del Sol. <3 <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">XOXO</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jet-set Cupcake</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-70390929095646567342011-08-22T11:45:00.001-07:002011-09-14T13:50:12.789-07:00Day 77: Sushi, Jellies and Soccer!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimHgWtyGKlJ8fCu7o4EbYA1pW9GgB6gFzzfuIBMUexTi_3pQGeDySfwz5vFqEJLTBK9g3zTk9-tF5KhkV2FSQpTAjTqhN2-s3sXm8vyK0emNKmfcpXVnynwCsTr4VL7fFfQm8ehMHZU-8_/s1600/IMG_8080.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>After a five hour bus ride without much deep sleep, a day of exploring a new city and a late night at the fair, I was poised to sleep Sunday away. Sergio, however, had different plans for me. Being awoken in the late morning by a knock on the door and a guy's voice telling me gently to please wake up already was an amusing way to start my day!<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">A shower, some horchata and a mini eternity of waiting for three sisters to get ready, we were off to the beaches of Costa del Sol in Marbella!!!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ever since I can remember, when somebody would ask me, "If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?" my answer was always immediate and resolute: "Costa del Sol!" Traveling to Europe? Getting sun-kissed on Mediterranean beaches? Copious amounts of the Spanish language everywhere I turned? "Yes, pllllleeeeeaaaassseeee!!!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">On the drive there I felt like I was a completely blissful fantasy: here I was, in the back of a car with the music blaring on the way to sun bathe on the beaches of Costa del Sol -- seriously?! This was more than a dream come true. Damn.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i8jqzdLzOSNtNPbTsHraiBToX4NoR2CXpwgVp9LehDOo3499vB6kvBagUfFFbMT8DhxJ5bpfDasOLthrxQuzL4rc_CkoYGIQ2WktlOVj2_yd7xwEHTB2DnCzFr824s9dG1UhUNiQGh8x/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+093.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i8jqzdLzOSNtNPbTsHraiBToX4NoR2CXpwgVp9LehDOo3499vB6kvBagUfFFbMT8DhxJ5bpfDasOLthrxQuzL4rc_CkoYGIQ2WktlOVj2_yd7xwEHTB2DnCzFr824s9dG1UhUNiQGh8x/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+093.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i8jqzdLzOSNtNPbTsHraiBToX4NoR2CXpwgVp9LehDOo3499vB6kvBagUfFFbMT8DhxJ5bpfDasOLthrxQuzL4rc_CkoYGIQ2WktlOVj2_yd7xwEHTB2DnCzFr824s9dG1UhUNiQGh8x/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+093.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The beach was so gorgeous and the water felt so nice with the 100 + degree sunshine! *Bliss*</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSQc9pJ9QbelZHbTauPhLtLimUs_ZDFqyjj1SEAs_r-9Yr302sI2ip8JNdpXjrwIyEl9Ww2kLBr65oFuftyKkqaRRUahc02xxEvubPDsrSdAShcMfg89Hwnv8PHWJKwBoLK3dOB1PmJvU/s320/IMG_8100.JPG" width="320" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MY3MY3Cb9WQcVEX78Dsl0ZZ4XaEkFFTncOYFUKDhq8yfaNYC9LF12Z9A9yUM9lfZn56SI34_0XVhJuBhy4LozyV3yTgr3-1N1VBLikCiMOAD35IvO3jHwQRTN9afczzERv5Zm1peX1N_/s1600/IMG_8094.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MY3MY3Cb9WQcVEX78Dsl0ZZ4XaEkFFTncOYFUKDhq8yfaNYC9LF12Z9A9yUM9lfZn56SI34_0XVhJuBhy4LozyV3yTgr3-1N1VBLikCiMOAD35IvO3jHwQRTN9afczzERv5Zm1peX1N_/s320/IMG_8094.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Eventually we got hungry, and considering our surroundings, L and I had the exact same thought: what better meal for the beach than SUSHI?! After L's *irrationality* at the supermarket subsided into an honest apology, I was ready for my sushi, gazpacho and shandy and parked myself on my beach towel to enjoy the feast. Yummmmmmy! :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsze1bp0DKXzvLdHH58Nn7cs6M1nOiok53uZttHnwBfsVBvJFWyCpamq2FoavRrmTPYSaX2qB5LqyWiK9g2KZWCN1erAqidwbuRbmADgE7lOe98DylV271kIOnve_2Cms11CR5i2y_oyt/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+105.JPG" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd been telling everyone all day that I would not go very deep into the water because I was absolutely petrified of fish and all sea life in general. Everybody laughed at me and ridiculed me but I stayed firm on my belief: sea life and human beings do not mix well. The end. So when L said she wanted to go take a swim out a little ways, I wished her well and tuned out to my iPod and flopped on my belly to work on my unfortunate shorts tan I'd accidentally gotten on the cruise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I opened my eyes a little while later, L was talking to Sergio in a really animated way and ran off to the lifeguard. I turned off my iPod and looked around, bewildered. What was going on...? When L came back to our towel camp all she had to do was show me and I knew. While she was out in the sea she'd been stung but tiny, invisible and evil JELLYFISH. Bastards. UGH. They got her right below the boob and on the back of her left leg. :( I felt so guilty for not watching her when she went out for her swim and wanted to go pay those damn jellyfish back for what they'd done - but, like I said, sea life petrifies me and I was not near brave enough to retaliate on those little mofo's. Poor L and her jellies... :-/</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoR6KIW30Sw-6hCJqkuEUh1Cmr_AkVQNgptXfbCDfYlfzO5Y2k665dq7pkMjQrNgJoVJfVdSEzgDTMIcU4Luxnzf9tzXYPncfedbHKAY5x1jZ4adIFR7nxLdiiEKTKrCKIr0kRV9ux6hU/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+107.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoR6KIW30Sw-6hCJqkuEUh1Cmr_AkVQNgptXfbCDfYlfzO5Y2k665dq7pkMjQrNgJoVJfVdSEzgDTMIcU4Luxnzf9tzXYPncfedbHKAY5x1jZ4adIFR7nxLdiiEKTKrCKIr0kRV9ux6hU/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+107.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-d2Trw9Blqfn3XOb0RD3BwH-1AIXuf_Dvj7eQmJJMzn3EhGUiq135otdhquYm5NeLxiahjwF9TLkJomnCzwq0mR-jJPKx4eSsq1wi98brTnxFQ_XRdlglrCJvJ9HdLDK8rTAp2PyBHgqZ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-d2Trw9Blqfn3XOb0RD3BwH-1AIXuf_Dvj7eQmJJMzn3EhGUiq135otdhquYm5NeLxiahjwF9TLkJomnCzwq0mR-jJPKx4eSsq1wi98brTnxFQ_XRdlglrCJvJ9HdLDK8rTAp2PyBHgqZ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+106.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">When we all got home it was time for a very serious Spanish night in. Cheese, thinly sliced meats, Martini and football (i.e. "soccer") - Barcelona vs. Madrid. Understanding the international obsession with soccer is a little tricky for the average American to understand. Sure, we have the NFL and college football and basketball and sometimes hockey... and sure, some people get REALLY into it (*coughgreenbaypackerfanscough*)... but it's nothing like the obsessive and passionate love of soccer. NOTHING compares. Except, maybe, for really really zealous religious people. Haha! It's really endearing though once you get sucked into it, too! ;) Go Cruziero and Real Madrid!!! ^_^</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRsHRIZNORF_fASBo_6qRrrHJM69Jd4Afmv7PCW3hM-eRxwkoqjQki2fN2mqt2dDyJ_4rAlRFopywkLMtqKa_sK6rTwMW98yQnqNjnjaPTUfKCD8alLeq2lnGfwXRNOZBpNiDaHhqr9Dw/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRsHRIZNORF_fASBo_6qRrrHJM69Jd4Afmv7PCW3hM-eRxwkoqjQki2fN2mqt2dDyJ_4rAlRFopywkLMtqKa_sK6rTwMW98yQnqNjnjaPTUfKCD8alLeq2lnGfwXRNOZBpNiDaHhqr9Dw/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+111.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Overall it was a nice day at the beach and a nice Spaniard way to end the night. :) Success!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">XOXO</div><div style="text-align: left;">Jet-set Cupcake</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-2943431080393456922011-08-22T11:44:00.001-07:002011-08-24T15:41:00.573-07:00Day 76: There's a sea and we don't have swimsuits? There's an H&M! Problem solved.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I woke up really, really late in the day. Does this surprise anybody? It shouldn't. I traditionally wake up late. And the night before had been spent on a BUS! But I guess when you're a guest in somebody's home who you don't eve know, it's rather bad form to sleep the whole day away. So at some point Sergio came and knocked on the door, giving me my sweet little Spanish wake-up call. LOL. I drank my Horchata, got ready as quickly as possible, and stumbled to the car, still half-asleep, to head into town.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As it turned out, Malaga was the place to be this weekend - festivities galore! All the women were dressed in their cute little polka-dot dresses and even some dogs were in the spirit! We wandered the streets, but they were too crowded and loud to really be terribly fun.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7ayZ3QzRFChllGBN8L7Rql74i7G1LYTxu9wBUOYxLgHzhD8f8WbwkZBY1_MB-Il6dDer-UtYzdyONcxL1KtNZAEdghwm4q9QgH3_P8N8jZ1lAESL_W6OsRCa_e5nOq0xMCgTsNJU1-Xp/s1600/GEDC4012.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPQcsEXpsVGwmnZJolb5h8IUbDhuPS6muVtPdDpaiuGcYf5X1IhT7AlY7XAx_G2kwg8yk9boT09Wu4Lv4ykz5njTwIzwcHySutDE7GKLHU0fC1DBZHHI3Soa-gj1Q-j20Fn3CK7pztCxn/s320/GEDC4010.JPG" width="240" /><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7ayZ3QzRFChllGBN8L7Rql74i7G1LYTxu9wBUOYxLgHzhD8f8WbwkZBY1_MB-Il6dDer-UtYzdyONcxL1KtNZAEdghwm4q9QgH3_P8N8jZ1lAESL_W6OsRCa_e5nOq0xMCgTsNJU1-Xp/s320/GEDC4012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Wandering around we found some gorgeous buildings and cute little windy streets but the most exciting thing was when a random American lady ran into us saying her daughter had just gone missing and that added the most excitement to the afternoon... we thought she was trying to scam us, but we went around for a good 15 minutes looking for the girl and alerting the local police. Sheesh!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCDqi8Fm8XweEEVTrRXJZGR01NOfplW67Gc6D3tEZCbi7kAwOwDYLmEmC4G3XuEqk1xNfW7qumBYlZ-E3JQXSpERebRM-z7hWOcEH6Pqv0PxlN8TVkeEcy1cZFHgB_FmiufIGjjgf5Uxa5/s1600/GEDC4022.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCDqi8Fm8XweEEVTrRXJZGR01NOfplW67Gc6D3tEZCbi7kAwOwDYLmEmC4G3XuEqk1xNfW7qumBYlZ-E3JQXSpERebRM-z7hWOcEH6Pqv0PxlN8TVkeEcy1cZFHgB_FmiufIGjjgf5Uxa5/s320/GEDC4022.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrwXeiP64F0nQVl7s-naiZL6Rr0pko97C9xR2Kd7OmIYl54gHh1v5ec12GAmNuOg1Hb8-gMOKSGD6L3GSzWWbUh4Ncb5eNphbDn0dC_3AG0-VAOhkri4fSmSSNgi5BbrYjpFCPJWpl85E/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Little by little we wandered off the path of the festival and found a sweet little market housed in a big warehouse where we purchased authentic French bread, yummy yummy cheese, grapes and nectarines and olives with baby pickles stuck inside them (eww - those were for L). Next was an epic search for water / shandy, which we found an interminable 10 minutes of walking later (hot weather without liquids = not good for girls' moods). We found a bench and plopped our hungry butts down for a good, European meal. On the bench across from us, a little older lady sat and watched us, smiling to herself the whole time. Cute. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrwXeiP64F0nQVl7s-naiZL6Rr0pko97C9xR2Kd7OmIYl54gHh1v5ec12GAmNuOg1Hb8-gMOKSGD6L3GSzWWbUh4Ncb5eNphbDn0dC_3AG0-VAOhkri4fSmSSNgi5BbrYjpFCPJWpl85E/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrwXeiP64F0nQVl7s-naiZL6Rr0pko97C9xR2Kd7OmIYl54gHh1v5ec12GAmNuOg1Hb8-gMOKSGD6L3GSzWWbUh4Ncb5eNphbDn0dC_3AG0-VAOhkri4fSmSSNgi5BbrYjpFCPJWpl85E/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+005.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkI2QwvTFMhLVcLF7bg-Pak6TNNvrs5scnpLpJjHCI1s0tY90gcaaZc2o5CyqT1u0XOes1DpMqlX0axX8DRRDS4e7JKUYNLXTY5cWPC3ANAQhY-4MG4VciZeWITLTh4pkVU8Ruh8c4IMj/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+006.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkI2QwvTFMhLVcLF7bg-Pak6TNNvrs5scnpLpJjHCI1s0tY90gcaaZc2o5CyqT1u0XOes1DpMqlX0axX8DRRDS4e7JKUYNLXTY5cWPC3ANAQhY-4MG4VciZeWITLTh4pkVU8Ruh8c4IMj/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+006.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
After our delicious meal we called L's sisters and found out we'd been ditched in the city for the day. Had we had our bikinis, this would not have been a problem - we were mere blocks from the Mediterranean Sea and the beach - but we were most unfortunately quite clothed. And so? There was only one choice. Hit up H&M rebajas for some cheap swimwear!! ^_^ Mmmm...hell yes! We hit the fitting rooms, made our choices and were on the beach in no time! ;)<br />
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</div>We wandered the beach (L swam, I maintained I was deathly afraid of all marine life and would get no where near the water) and had a late afternoon picnic of our left over goodies from lunch. Yummmmy. ^_^<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4SxguFseV0OVqvsvDxcFVU8uqIsnlXtNl8eSXHL4S8r4v1LnGqkYFR85k2IWAzW65u2aqME99FobzX9AU_-U608qil2R3yy4hck0pjarUk-kCpCdMQrVk_lsglbMs9CRPWLt5ReNeUVW/s1600/C%252BL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4SxguFseV0OVqvsvDxcFVU8uqIsnlXtNl8eSXHL4S8r4v1LnGqkYFR85k2IWAzW65u2aqME99FobzX9AU_-U608qil2R3yy4hck0pjarUk-kCpCdMQrVk_lsglbMs9CRPWLt5ReNeUVW/s320/C%252BL.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6LMt_gJHVVnWY19gUD9AEwHU6SSHJk0dhih1fkye1PZ1AYIHKsT4MifNp0hJXu1wa-NWOSWgn4RDmk-IOrF3iLYdKNDsxQgfbdiYYC9bDKMtboxtNq9pH6qgW7eVyEW2g0MaaOSqVfC8/s1600/GEDC4042.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6LMt_gJHVVnWY19gUD9AEwHU6SSHJk0dhih1fkye1PZ1AYIHKsT4MifNp0hJXu1wa-NWOSWgn4RDmk-IOrF3iLYdKNDsxQgfbdiYYC9bDKMtboxtNq9pH6qgW7eVyEW2g0MaaOSqVfC8/s320/GEDC4042.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
All in all - a very relaxing and improptu beach visit! ^_^ YAY!<br />
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By the time L's sisters were back to pick us up and take us to the night fair, I was POOPED. <br />
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But the festivities had to go on!! ^_^ Supposedly, Malaga's night-time festival is one of the biggest in Spain - and it sure looked giant! Imagine a state fair - but with clubs and bars and dancers and rides and games and food and music everywhere!! Pretty sweet!! I particularly liked the pic of the three sisters and the random American girl (me) that Sergio took at the entrance. LOL.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YMoZPE92VkVkr5dUqituCP0ZIqLKs1AMBd57CXMgX_koJdLkkg_8CblBNu91aXw7HRfOPuxiKgMapfS4QVrpjK1Dyq_o8pNaOX2hxeGi4uG6Kt4a0uX27jA76FTe_TwSyDbT5g_2JAu0/s1600/DSCN5890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YMoZPE92VkVkr5dUqituCP0ZIqLKs1AMBd57CXMgX_koJdLkkg_8CblBNu91aXw7HRfOPuxiKgMapfS4QVrpjK1Dyq_o8pNaOX2hxeGi4uG6Kt4a0uX27jA76FTe_TwSyDbT5g_2JAu0/s320/DSCN5890.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfijBkIiW6DW0HNp5NbZPVEz2zyA6D-VheL2oyXDhPB5FBOW73JusRBd2x6XW5GFuCGNYajtzt5-qbV80FYb8GxAk_Ntcm7YbPezwVsXI_C-J57IvoqFwOKGgO1NRfC9QtJvOiPdM3isq/s1600/GEDC4069.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfijBkIiW6DW0HNp5NbZPVEz2zyA6D-VheL2oyXDhPB5FBOW73JusRBd2x6XW5GFuCGNYajtzt5-qbV80FYb8GxAk_Ntcm7YbPezwVsXI_C-J57IvoqFwOKGgO1NRfC9QtJvOiPdM3isq/s320/GEDC4069.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My favorite things were that they call Cotton Candy "Algodon" (omg so cute) and the GIANT Ferris Wheel!!!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwo7cd591pRFEJmd0itI0tZntI-N9EPj2L20S_LHxR51QeAdfPZX_e-tg9NZTrjP_3HX6m80aVWkya6KMfWWt0AP7feu9P8EdN2TDIKEw_9kYeD1KVosq_bRH_XdUJ5gd94nbLvLWxwa0_/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwo7cd591pRFEJmd0itI0tZntI-N9EPj2L20S_LHxR51QeAdfPZX_e-tg9NZTrjP_3HX6m80aVWkya6KMfWWt0AP7feu9P8EdN2TDIKEw_9kYeD1KVosq_bRH_XdUJ5gd94nbLvLWxwa0_/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+082.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG6BYv0HDwDCMFnRAUaHTUoN7r4Oln8S2sqvOe1_ABmFr3dmQVEnyA94TqCsxA9bY0x5QppFpYmrhqIzHDUVb9Rv2Z8tfztN20UDeDpHqQUTAXiyXBPfjA_zNLlP5QxH9kVhfXM6_bexp6/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+084.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG6BYv0HDwDCMFnRAUaHTUoN7r4Oln8S2sqvOe1_ABmFr3dmQVEnyA94TqCsxA9bY0x5QppFpYmrhqIzHDUVb9Rv2Z8tfztN20UDeDpHqQUTAXiyXBPfjA_zNLlP5QxH9kVhfXM6_bexp6/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+084.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>L's sisters were all about the bumper cars. L and were not. Or, well, I wasn't. Every single time I've bumper cared in the past, I've always ended up wetting my pants - and I really wasn't interesting in wetting my pants around people I barely knew. The first round I opted out, but when L's littlest sister came and asked if we wanted to go, my mouth answered "Si!" before my mind could respond, "No no no no no no no." >_< I giggled. My body got really sore from the head on crashes. And I did not wiz my pants. Successful? Sort of...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On our way out of the fair, we saw a bunch of ladies posing in their traditional Spanish Festival wear - CUTE!!! ^_^</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hDiwBB_wUAzdDI6Tgg40m2lm2UTBynT2QbsdcMlCQrXmL_ABAev6EjzXDTMZEIlHnQQXMx2aryIL7DAJDlbTwyob7DnXGjd02arXat4g9caWug0x2jukqQVyt6Z-tt784qp64cvjTAHB/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+091.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hDiwBB_wUAzdDI6Tgg40m2lm2UTBynT2QbsdcMlCQrXmL_ABAev6EjzXDTMZEIlHnQQXMx2aryIL7DAJDlbTwyob7DnXGjd02arXat4g9caWug0x2jukqQVyt6Z-tt784qp64cvjTAHB/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+091.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">By the end of the night I was utterly ready to PASS OUT. *YAWN*</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">XOXO</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jet-set Cupcake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-12476656324225225952011-08-16T02:51:00.000-07:002011-08-16T02:55:01.413-07:00"To live is to be slowly born."I found myself on that bench, eating my bread, cheese and fruit, gazing out over the sea and in that instant I felt more myself than I had in months. Nothing felt new. I didn't need to be anybody else. It was all ephemeral in an ever-lasting sort of way. And that small, warm, squishy feeling of bliss bloomed and hummed like it has a propensity to do when I get it so right and everything is exactly how it was meant to be.<br />
<br />
"I've got a tight grip on reality,<br />
but I can't<br />
let go of what's in front of me here.<br />
I know you're leaving in the morning<br />
when you wake up<br />
leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream."<br />
<br />
And right now? I'm sitting on the couch with my chocolate coffee and my chocolate napolitana and I'm torn between crying until I run out of tears or getting my ass in gear, showering, calling my familia and going out to make something of my antipenultimate morning. So far, the tears are winning.<br />
<br />
The ineffability of yesterday (and this weekend) was something that <i>would</i> only happen right before a long journey. When I left for the cruise I could talk myself out of this feeling of completeness, but not anymore. I'd told myself I'd accomplished everything I was supposed to here, and that I needed to take all the happiness I'd been given here and use it wherever I ended up. But I don't feel that way anymore.<br />
<br />
I cried the night before I left America. I cried and cried and cried and was petrified of letting go of everything I loved for an unknown future in an unknown country with unknown people. And now that I have to leave that future (present) I adore in the country I adore with the people I more than adore - I feel like my allegiances are divided. Of course I still love everything I loved when I was in America - but I'm going back with my heart filled with more happiness and joy than I knew possible. Is it okay to stretch your heart across so many continents? Can it break from the distance, or is it rubbery enough to withstand it?<br />
<br />
I know my own; I signed up for a jet-set journey where others settle with "life" and in the fine print it warned me about this. I took a deep breath and reminded myself sometimes you have to hug "Goodbye" before you can hug "Hello." But it hardly seems fair to those that didn't sign that disclaimer before arriving on planet earth.<br />
<br />
<i>"</i><i>Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé."</i> <-- I hope I'm doing it right. I fear I'm not.<i><br />
</i><br />
<br />
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<br />
"You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed."<br />
"What does that mean -- tame?" <br />
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties." <br />
"To establish ties?" <br />
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world...."<br />
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near-- <br />
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry." <br />
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ." <br />
"Yes, that is so," said the fox. <br />
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince. <br />
"Yes, that is so," said the fox. <br />
Then it has done you no good at all!" <br />
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."<br />
<br />
*crying* <3<br />
XOXO<br />
Jet-set Cupcake Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-42023185990749145582011-08-12T12:55:00.000-07:002011-08-12T12:55:05.809-07:00Day 75: Off to the South...When I booked my tickets for Spain, I only had plans and a place to sleep until 10th of August, yet I booked it 'til the 18th. I just knew I wouldn't be ready to go that soon - that I would meet somebody in Spain and I would want to stretch out my time there as long as possible. I knew that everything would fall into place and my last week would be one of the best weeks of the entire summer. I didn't really tell anybody this, though - I knew I sounded a little over-certain of myself. But when I clicked on "Confirm" for the date of my return, I smiled to myself, wondering what crazy adventure I'd have gotten myself into by August 11th.<br />
<br />
And here I am!<br />
<br />
Damn.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I swear - I don't know how to feel about it all. I got online this morning and the big story on Yahoo! News was about the famine in Somalia and the parents that have had to leave their dying kids on the side of the road as they walked days and days without much water or food in order to get help. And then I look at where I am and what I'm doing and I can't help but feel uneasy - it makes me feel guilty, it makes me wonder if I'm not sufficiently grateful, it makes me worry that I'm not doing enough for others and more than anything (and most egotistically of all) it makes me feel like my good fortune might be entirely precarious itself.<br />
<br />
I've had the most amazing past few months that I could have ever imagined. The thought of going back to America makes me feel like it's all going to end. It makes me worry that this is it - enjoy it while I can, because when I return, there's no more happiness to go around. I know this is silly, but I can't help wondering what if it's the truth. And yes, while such awful things are going on in the world, I hardly have any right to worry about my own happiness, and yet I suppose it's in fact a very Human Thing to Do.<br />
<br />
And then I read a<a href="http://therumpus.net/2011/08/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-81-a-bit-of-sully-in-your-sweet/"> Sugar column</a> and life feels okay again. <3 "A bit of sully in your sweet. Not perfection, but real love. Not what you imagine, but what you’d never dream."<br />
<br />
I love my life as it stands. I love where I am and where I came from and how I got here. I feel as though this journey is deserving of an image (a future tattoo?) and the only image I can come up with stems from a greeting card I once bought for myself years and years ago and signed and hid under my bed for me to read whenever I was feeling down. On the front of the card it had a little baby duck standing on a little plank of wood, looking down at a little pot of water. The inside of the card read something like, "You can do it."<br />
<br />
<br />
Of all the things that ducky inside of me has done, this is pretty tricky - but I'm asking it to enjoy the hell out of this weekend and not worry about what's coming - 'cause it will all be ok.<br />
<br />
XOXO<br />
Jet-set Cupcake<br />
<br />
Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-55611198129407325082011-08-12T06:43:00.000-07:002011-08-12T06:43:16.326-07:00Day 74: Toledo!!!Toledo!!<br />
<br />
Everybody had told me how quaint this little town was, but I hadn't gotten a chance to go... so when I told L that I was thinking of going one of the days she was working, she quickly asked off for a day so we could go exploring together!<br />
<br />
By two in the afternoon we had our sandwiches made, four water bottles chilled and put in our day packs and were on the bus! An hour and a half later, we were wandering the adorable streets of Toledo; it felt exactly like how I'd always imagined Europe to feel - old old OLD buildings that are just gorgeous, teeny tiny streets with adorable balconies filled with flowers and sweet little touristy shops!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDmz__iha7kAUC9LXpigDONVkKVFVuELBTk-Zn8lyLnPxkWXP9fiO5zJZJuuqD_4GMIIeSaMOVpAg3KcDTjwZmmNNsmW7GCsF1DABVKteXktBzL18-4H8VkZc7p-jtOxLavPcOaZMZY1j7/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+025.JPG" width="240" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmaYx16jWrKa28M74riaRPqkKP6Mmw7lv_-NQdXdtlY2XIOQSMeRaDAEqmHVTJOSYWpNiKru8N6N51OSGXRU3YiEs2T_7qBzjug_bTb5PthaoEKfdBg48Cm1xi0peflA_u4FOxF015yDzI/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+034.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmaYx16jWrKa28M74riaRPqkKP6Mmw7lv_-NQdXdtlY2XIOQSMeRaDAEqmHVTJOSYWpNiKru8N6N51OSGXRU3YiEs2T_7qBzjug_bTb5PthaoEKfdBg48Cm1xi0peflA_u4FOxF015yDzI/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+034.JPG" width="240" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We wandered all the way to the main plaza to see the cathedral, and then deemed it time for lunch. We tried to get down to the river, but gave up when we found the first shady spot with a place to sit! The view was amazing and the cheese on the sandwiches was all melty and yummy - hee hee. :) Oh, sun - sometimes 100 degree + weather can be a good thing!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qM18RIp9M6HcEcyKuwmuMxIbVSu391RNtPGHwmElWg_xgq6fxqTkm4GMp0_RrmjJeKqIv7halVFAqWoFUxVAHd0BwOgLmjdoCyXiLEPgBI_6DB_aOMyXKEexG8fgS-UoqG5BEA0Bqb00/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qM18RIp9M6HcEcyKuwmuMxIbVSu391RNtPGHwmElWg_xgq6fxqTkm4GMp0_RrmjJeKqIv7halVFAqWoFUxVAHd0BwOgLmjdoCyXiLEPgBI_6DB_aOMyXKEexG8fgS-UoqG5BEA0Bqb00/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+035.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After our picnic lunch break, it was on to find something COLD to drink (our four water bottles were already empty and the heat, though good for the cheese situation, was not as wonderful for our imminent heat-stroke symptoms!). We climbed up a hill, found a mini market and got some chilly liquids to refuel! While I, of course, chose an Orange Fanta, L went with a beer. When we went to pay, the lady at the cash register looked at the beer, looked at both of us, and then asked L, "Um, exactly how old ARE you?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hahahahahahahhaha. The legal age to buy alcohol in Spain is 18. L started giggling and answered, "Almost 26 - do you want to see my ID?!" The poor lady looked at both of us again and looked SO perplexed but said "No, that's okay..." and quickly rang us up. Always a good thing when you look 8 years younger than you really are - LOL!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We took our cold drinks over to a bench in the shade with a really gorgeous view of surrounding Toledo. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiupYlt5314AsMn_TG9uhyphenhyphenDO3Q9YomyJoUCr546S1koS7SZynNCE6fl92toutFhNfc0XZxHtsVcL3KYJaxlzP1fyUR34yMJDgRo0xJHpHlXi83J1rZKcd5UTBOQfJ-xgELogXSXX56GF0nL/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+054.JPG" width="240" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNso-joSLBgPbCK2UMLn65cd-qbTL9r7wbFhqvWeAof54EfyVgQCt9LEuzWRfbHTI83tC_fv6dLvX2m_3G4xgvvADrbLUcE5s8cg4d_iseT9lf3NlD9ioZFUuV0ifRpHCA_DVY_41LeIk/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+055.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNso-joSLBgPbCK2UMLn65cd-qbTL9r7wbFhqvWeAof54EfyVgQCt9LEuzWRfbHTI83tC_fv6dLvX2m_3G4xgvvADrbLUcE5s8cg4d_iseT9lf3NlD9ioZFUuV0ifRpHCA_DVY_41LeIk/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+055.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring Toledo; mountainsides, old fortress walls from the 10th century, tiny little roads with cars that could barely fit around the corners, and... shoe shopping! We were trying to get to the center of town to get tickets for the sight-seeing train, but on our way found a shoe store with the cheapest shoes EVER. Seriously. We got three pairs of shoes for 17 euro! YAY!!! ^_^</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrm0Mbwgv0IylmCARuGqxKWitxdjonKCVkoLYEW4d0sumj-o7BwIVIZ1KtTi5er4dQW65GwsFnu6uMxICgPIW16wRUva6JV1YfhSSxoZXMLsXiCww3qa4WNPDcUxa9ZliTkxd5UvPv5rCI/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+072.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrm0Mbwgv0IylmCARuGqxKWitxdjonKCVkoLYEW4d0sumj-o7BwIVIZ1KtTi5er4dQW65GwsFnu6uMxICgPIW16wRUva6JV1YfhSSxoZXMLsXiCww3qa4WNPDcUxa9ZliTkxd5UvPv5rCI/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+072.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After our shoe shopping spree, it was on to the adorable train ride that took us all around Toledo, showing us the churches, the walls, the bridges, the EVERYTHING all while giving little explanations in Spanish and English. Cuuuuuute!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxnWLD1uccV67vrrKjdzbGSoJdLLT0kMfqDF477kktg-p5wyAQAfaMBmt6cVuWoJXlR2Nu-M4_UtP97Y2yiKywwdQw5icWGdbNDqh3ownMNR32bJ29BFuWvGW3wAYmlxr36IvKieOLvbF/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxnWLD1uccV67vrrKjdzbGSoJdLLT0kMfqDF477kktg-p5wyAQAfaMBmt6cVuWoJXlR2Nu-M4_UtP97Y2yiKywwdQw5icWGdbNDqh3ownMNR32bJ29BFuWvGW3wAYmlxr36IvKieOLvbF/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+084.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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YAY TOLEDO!!! ^_^<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfMpxTTggbQINmlEe4ztaNGMM3yEQbKCJxFOXV0_33hcmK1jteTmqkUt_2YsM6rBoYKKhtVqJh4bg1mXCS50tHwifiGIBSLBoUKLw5Pwraf-5vJydnPvHRYKXPCsIAWCeRzv94ZutzONJ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfMpxTTggbQINmlEe4ztaNGMM3yEQbKCJxFOXV0_33hcmK1jteTmqkUt_2YsM6rBoYKKhtVqJh4bg1mXCS50tHwifiGIBSLBoUKLw5Pwraf-5vJydnPvHRYKXPCsIAWCeRzv94ZutzONJ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+095.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDn-nvrFd7N0ordENUSdUDokPTpxeqfkUpCMUCxtqEw0UOUFvdi6YroaJpkXCjsx3vfgBcoijorZ1GZH8qe5xMXYX4DtoRzHQd3xhP7GrquOu5aC08DJ3jN_tcQ8oCmO89_xL6qzxyRU-5/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+102.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDn-nvrFd7N0ordENUSdUDokPTpxeqfkUpCMUCxtqEw0UOUFvdi6YroaJpkXCjsx3vfgBcoijorZ1GZH8qe5xMXYX4DtoRzHQd3xhP7GrquOu5aC08DJ3jN_tcQ8oCmO89_xL6qzxyRU-5/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+102.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
After seeing so much of Toledo, I gave in to the whole wanting a sword from Toledo thing. Toledo is the spot in Spain known for its swords and there are sword shops EVERYWHERE! And so... I did. ;) Awesome.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriDbX8o-rlzITCGsnKiDQt6kF12A_ocwjAicdpSdcHMFjlWh4UkAwYaer4VWA78Q_5Cu1Hkj_MEKqe8FBpvyPe_FqZ3zsJIvVG4Bx3kw71o4t4Ka-sWAiIZMoFsWCsZP9piJbdAltNGWZ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriDbX8o-rlzITCGsnKiDQt6kF12A_ocwjAicdpSdcHMFjlWh4UkAwYaer4VWA78Q_5Cu1Hkj_MEKqe8FBpvyPe_FqZ3zsJIvVG4Bx3kw71o4t4Ka-sWAiIZMoFsWCsZP9piJbdAltNGWZ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+107.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHa6MDndOkvV0TzyCCHlftrB-LnhdVzemOB-OldB7nvIThRk7U5Om_GF0-aKakBzsspt4pjA4HxPNP5V86DNAxRN1SsMeYSL3aAltxdAX1cgbGufKBL8aQGkXlqpcMuC8UKdp4lGXuCRJ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+112.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHa6MDndOkvV0TzyCCHlftrB-LnhdVzemOB-OldB7nvIThRk7U5Om_GF0-aKakBzsspt4pjA4HxPNP5V86DNAxRN1SsMeYSL3aAltxdAX1cgbGufKBL8aQGkXlqpcMuC8UKdp4lGXuCRJ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+112.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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After a long day of exploring, we took a few more pictures of the beautiful town and caught the bus home. Talk about being POOPED!!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilf3oEfirdgnM7EI2x6jfbCX2C0Wr1gtZk-a71DXoqrYqLDLj7n9ft5NjDi5yPqfXePEmnZu_WTWbstR7AIs3l3BePWZGxk4XTFVXun_cXpc0aIjY9NG9nFKV-J_iFFioR9b4TwtMeICMq/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilf3oEfirdgnM7EI2x6jfbCX2C0Wr1gtZk-a71DXoqrYqLDLj7n9ft5NjDi5yPqfXePEmnZu_WTWbstR7AIs3l3BePWZGxk4XTFVXun_cXpc0aIjY9NG9nFKV-J_iFFioR9b4TwtMeICMq/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+118.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGf8YU6yI-Tzi0yg1khOZyDkMyUgVUVsTMKgl863xBX1NS16ZLcdxASgn2d3ocC3sSi5Lz7VQwpSp9IOM_d0ALOC4pZL5jvaSt0R-UJblXP_BFEmtAvtolUv8nBDnNwwt_WbCPCrHBp6a/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+137.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGf8YU6yI-Tzi0yg1khOZyDkMyUgVUVsTMKgl863xBX1NS16ZLcdxASgn2d3ocC3sSi5Lz7VQwpSp9IOM_d0ALOC4pZL5jvaSt0R-UJblXP_BFEmtAvtolUv8nBDnNwwt_WbCPCrHBp6a/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+137.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
So. Much. Fun!<br />
XOXO<br />
Jet-set Cupcake<br />
<br />
Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-47062661723042440092011-08-12T05:05:00.000-07:002011-08-12T05:06:34.039-07:00Day 73: Chill'n - MTV Espana StyleBack in the day (elementary school, middle school, high school, even some college days), summer meant staying home, not changing out of my PJs, watching MTV and messing things up and then cleaning random things around the house at commercial breaks. I remember the good 'ol days of watching Trading Spaces for hours, of clearing everything out of the refrigerator so that I could properly clean the shelves and then rearranging everything when I put it back inside (I got SUCH satisfaction out of this), wearing the same PJs for days (or until we went to the pool or McD's and I had to change out of them real quick)... ah, Summer Bliss. Being a lazy bum is always the right answer.<br />
<br />
And so when I woke up at noon today to the crazy screaming of the Crazy Spanish Neighbor Lady across the way, all alone in an empty apartment, I knew what I had to do: I had to re-create a perfect lazy summer day!<br />
<br />
I stumbled into the kitchen to find chicken nuggets made just for me and ate a few before setting to work on Kiwi Compy, checking facebook, writing emails and catching up on failbook.com. Then the cleaning bug hit me and I swept all the floors, cleaned out the refrigerator, degreased the hood of the stove (that was sorta tricky but oh-so-satisfying!), learned that toothpaste really DOES shine silver (omg!) and polished my rings, Windexed the bathroom and glass doors, and dusted shelves. All the while, MTV - ESPANA was on and I got my fill of Next (the gay version - hell yes), Parental Control and My Super Sweet Sixteen all while practicing my Spanish listening comprehension! QUE GUAY! ;)<br />
<br />
By the time L got home, things were all tidy and I was completely rejuvenated! Traveling and living close to other people is a hoot - but I hadn't had a Chelsea day to myself at home in months and months and months...!! L kept worrying I was so bored cooped up in her apartment, but nothing could have been further from the truth! ^_^ A day alone to do whatever I wanted and not leave was JUST what I needed!<br />
<br />
*Blissful Summer Day*<br />
XOXO<br />
Jet-set CupcakeJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-63871443855251971882011-08-12T03:52:00.000-07:002011-08-12T03:52:17.182-07:00Day 72: Greetings from the Rail <br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I know, I know. I charged Kiwi Computer all night long so that I would be able to catch up on the blog posts from two weeks ago that I never had time to write. I fully intended to write them – really. But when I opened my computer, I realized my outlines for the days were on my blog already, and seeing as I have no internet connection on the train... I felt a bit SOL. “Perhaps,” I thought to myself, “I could just check the pictures from those days on my computer and piece together things from there?” I opened the pictures folder on my computer but immediately got distracted by tons of pre-Spain pictures I hadn't looked at in months and months and months!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And then it hit me.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I <3 my life. :)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've been so worried about leaving Spain that I forgot that my life was awesome before I got here and will be awesome after I leave, too.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I opened the folder from Las Vegas and giggled at the weird videos the Brazilian took of me when I didn't know I was being recorded. I looked at all of the pics of us dressed up in casinos, out to dinner, at the pool, hang'n in our uber chic hotel room... and damn.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I opened the folder from San Diego and looked around me on the train to make sure nobody was looking at the pics of us passed out in bed, pics of us posing in our panda gear next to the real panda bears in the zoo, pics of me on my 22<sup>nd</sup> birthday getting damn tipsy and making strange faces at a bird while eating a discounted cinnamon roll... and damn.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I didn't even open the folder from Brazil – that would have taken the whole train ride to go through those 600 pics!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And now I'm sitting here, on a train to Madrid, coming back from Barcelona where I took a cruise to Italy and back... and damn.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It didn't hit me until this moment just how much I've traveled in the past year and how ridiculously grateful (… and a little guilty...? Should a girl's life be allowed to be this jet-set at the age of 22? I mean, I know it's my life dream to travel all over... but I can't believe I have. I don't feel like I earned it... but I think I did? I'm not sure.) that makes me feel.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Las Vegas → Boston → Portland → Belo Horizonte, Brazil → Fortaleza, Brazil → Denver → San Diego → Denver Road Trip → Madrid, Spain → Asturias, Spain → Valencia, Spain → Barcelona, Spain → Florence, Italy → Rome, Italy → Naples, Italy → Palma Mallorca, Spain (this coming weekend) → Malaga, Spain → ???</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Every time a trip would come to an end I'd get upset and worried that things could never be as wonderful as they were up until that point and from there on it would all be downhill. Boy have I been wrong!! After 18 trips in about a year I think it's time I learn that the end of one journey is the beginning of another, and that I never lose people I truly adore so worrying about it is wasted energy that could be better focused on enjoying the journey I'm currently on! <3</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jeeze – I always think of Lincoln riding the train in the Civil War en route to Gettysburg and how he wrote the entire Gettysburg Address on that train ride and figure that this little zone should be so inspiring. But the truth is, I feel so much pressure to write well while in such a perfectly picturesque jet-set enviornment that my writing style falls flat on its face. >_< BLAH.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Anyway – enough reflection silliness. The next nine days are going to be AMAZINGLY, AWESOMELY THE SHIT!!! I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooo happy I'm headed home to Madrid! <3 And hour an a half 'til I'm back in Atocha!!!! LOVE!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">XOXO</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jet-set Cupcake</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-4816384325729416672011-08-08T16:28:00.000-07:002011-08-08T16:34:22.117-07:00Day 71: Vicky Chelsea Barcelona<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We started our morning off with a stop at Dunkin' Coffee (that's right - Dunkin' Donuts is called Dunkin' Coffee in Spain. Idk. Weird.) - despite how American it was of us, I tried to remain a little authentic to the Spanish and got a doughnut filled with dulce de leche and a horchata to drink. Hee hee!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWkHVHoTRKwygTkiRmOQDHbD_LiCL-hXRe4gNomdZnW-iMBGrHhvq_BnXtBXnqk8F1b-TdkosxkIcJpIVRcE37K8_PvzHY1BwDSw0PCLC2hK-4Bc10o0U_Ul3wbLn1wyrR64fDCtLqkMP/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+001.JPG" width="320" /></div><br />
My ankle still wasn't feeling great, so we decided to do a bus tour of the city so that we could still see all the sights but I wouldn't have to walk too much. Below is a picture I took while we waited in line for our tour bus tickets; the Desigual bike was AMAZING so I had to snap a pic, and managed to get our double-decker tour bus in the background! Success!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlmy-izHDC7Lx4YK8jY9dQuXhqX85gavEGbrkSxznz9OqsdXmLNH0IhgJKwiH_FvJZ75NRASkLFI0BcL7fPFRgYxZUi0cIPCA0mHeJewQ4aZir3Sod1w76qeE6_3BAO3a_UbDTFVtZ6DQ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlmy-izHDC7Lx4YK8jY9dQuXhqX85gavEGbrkSxznz9OqsdXmLNH0IhgJKwiH_FvJZ75NRASkLFI0BcL7fPFRgYxZUi0cIPCA0mHeJewQ4aZir3Sod1w76qeE6_3BAO3a_UbDTFVtZ6DQ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sam and I were a little kooky. It was morning time (for us - in fact I think it was about 1pm)... it was really hot... we were standing in a line... the resultant picture:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFxlsTU2c2FjDT9fzA1gI6kvwKCPRyirhe1okxud98vacAGRS5i5VrfS5rcpGs2lAhngqOwgFo2RXUW5sO7IY3rZtBk_lYpUD6gmTrscWvYX9jGeLibc6XcyQIrlxyYTrRlQpR2F5Mykd/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+118.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFxlsTU2c2FjDT9fzA1gI6kvwKCPRyirhe1okxud98vacAGRS5i5VrfS5rcpGs2lAhngqOwgFo2RXUW5sO7IY3rZtBk_lYpUD6gmTrscWvYX9jGeLibc6XcyQIrlxyYTrRlQpR2F5Mykd/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+118.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
A few minutes later and we were on the second level of the bus, work'n on our tans and seeing the sights without hurting my ankle!! YAY! We saw a ton of stuff - lots of Gaudi buildings, royal palaces, etc. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-d-8nkgeRJSrPaq9JRm_oKXEvocpDzXQOMT1VktNFW8JKKRrqFEMAqK8EvHTrCVrVqyAv-x38qihwJiEtKzECDqFcqU6Ra4_-i03aVBiK-43fiIEujR49d723XXgefT31oDUHVfHCZIqM/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-d-8nkgeRJSrPaq9JRm_oKXEvocpDzXQOMT1VktNFW8JKKRrqFEMAqK8EvHTrCVrVqyAv-x38qihwJiEtKzECDqFcqU6Ra4_-i03aVBiK-43fiIEujR49d723XXgefT31oDUHVfHCZIqM/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+008.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_vKTijwiAaP6fzBX6rE4-mxyh8cODEafU3h2MJ5QIu1AMFfO83B8aETlXNXAa5-RC0pQxGgtXIK9V3D93sqyKWck3Sd5vvbxEDtOJ_IklUpFTWOC9pGXj-k2HqPXgqxdefYn6uMFjdtq/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+014.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_vKTijwiAaP6fzBX6rE4-mxyh8cODEafU3h2MJ5QIu1AMFfO83B8aETlXNXAa5-RC0pQxGgtXIK9V3D93sqyKWck3Sd5vvbxEDtOJ_IklUpFTWOC9pGXj-k2HqPXgqxdefYn6uMFjdtq/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+014.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
When we'd completed the Red Bus route, we took a lunch break at Hard Rock Cafe - YUMMMY!!! In case you're ever near a Hard Rock, please listen carefully: GO INSIDE, SIT DOWN, ORDER A BROWNIE SUNDAE. OMG - it was bliss in a glass. For. Serious. Damn!! After lunch I went in to visit my bears (I collect Hard Rock bears from around the world), but had to leave without one, as I literally have only American money at this point (and not much of that - damn). And so I had to decide that while I shall continue my Hard Rock bear collection, I only need one bear per country so that I don't go completely broke. ;) <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMauwh9p-bGlOoXI3jLf_OVDBqdDsOoXMXKLWGeyZWMsVfHVocvU0PQfEd1OoHN0C4HUyS9ypOjGZ7WAzjb8yze7DG1azUmP-kxl8-Jmwn8W-VnxWkrUPBXBqBLfv65byf0UP2iJmIvi4/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMauwh9p-bGlOoXI3jLf_OVDBqdDsOoXMXKLWGeyZWMsVfHVocvU0PQfEd1OoHN0C4HUyS9ypOjGZ7WAzjb8yze7DG1azUmP-kxl8-Jmwn8W-VnxWkrUPBXBqBLfv65byf0UP2iJmIvi4/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+031.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Next it was on to the Blue Bus, which took us by the Sagrada Familia. The bus was going along, doing its thing... announcing sites here and there... and then it turned the corner and there it was...<br />
<br />
Oh.<br />
<br />
My.<br />
<br />
God.<br />
<br />
There are no words for the sheer awe I felt upon seeing the structure. It was SO big and SO intricate and SO gorgeous and SO amazing. Both G and I gasped and G proclaimed it to be "One of the most Amazing sites I've ever seen." It's just... so... DAMN. I was dazed (as you can see below).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAJMQ2qjL-aE_iGhImT_kMIpNvuvzPW6sQYtXkBR3_fH6x6XCdRbGYt59mH_0cwgp1z7m0RZEuOvsRm9J19Hu2liGYDK-u5tMu_Vgx68TRa1i0u1KmeHVJJ3QHQRTc_dxu5_F279AeO95/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAJMQ2qjL-aE_iGhImT_kMIpNvuvzPW6sQYtXkBR3_fH6x6XCdRbGYt59mH_0cwgp1z7m0RZEuOvsRm9J19Hu2liGYDK-u5tMu_Vgx68TRa1i0u1KmeHVJJ3QHQRTc_dxu5_F279AeO95/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+041.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8xxbJFjtQ9jlZLE44AiMvZRb1Uq7iCfJS9waWnGHhfNosbep9IQ4zxRUagDNFyEYMTOemwQwYfdpcDDQ6w-3FT_2HKY2u7fOz86_FaxXNUhsv4i0kOV2d5a2_tEuLHQFydNtJU_wVI8j/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+140.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8xxbJFjtQ9jlZLE44AiMvZRb1Uq7iCfJS9waWnGHhfNosbep9IQ4zxRUagDNFyEYMTOemwQwYfdpcDDQ6w-3FT_2HKY2u7fOz86_FaxXNUhsv4i0kOV2d5a2_tEuLHQFydNtJU_wVI8j/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+140.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ox31mBnxwk7LeFHKthG7F6QynoVi8zn3ur3nlSx3T7G6pDDMcDvn9d7-S8FJP6x2T3osoyNtZoVKw6PhE4zrys2p93t0ZilpKoXFnurAt6QWMQyOKYaQ2WnfUFYX2WaLVJ12tyibqEbv/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>The Sagrada Familia was begun by Gaudi in the early 20th century and is still under construction thanks to private donors. According to Gaudi and his plans for the structure, it will take up to SEVEN generations to complete - HA! When asked if this didn't seem like a long time, Gaudi replied something along the lines of, "God will still be around then." Hee hee. (Little did he know, perhaps, that the idea of "God" might possibly quite out of vogue in 5 more generations - lol.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmIlmX8fksE_8lpNz6XHT2a8Y9peEXv7BDdSC1xnOYhcBYd4ZCQyQWnyRxM2Go8yd5gQYV6zEDP1Xo5Kez_Czud0LBE5xuIsKqkymXLl7BBGoPAnV8ESjtwu2JM6X3-xGHBEr6Yu5zPtS/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmIlmX8fksE_8lpNz6XHT2a8Y9peEXv7BDdSC1xnOYhcBYd4ZCQyQWnyRxM2Go8yd5gQYV6zEDP1Xo5Kez_Czud0LBE5xuIsKqkymXLl7BBGoPAnV8ESjtwu2JM6X3-xGHBEr6Yu5zPtS/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+137.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIN3WBtOxuoBCzG-eIUour-EHRTsWhp3pTiMXB73vy9auFcEtGzDjwrOBZRDEP6maByAsS7t-7yTQ0OQN9THzQn9Q8kLkszS8v6oSEpHJoMhhLiYN8NlEUhNAgTTcFOMKF4GJ3jDy7qv85/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+044.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIN3WBtOxuoBCzG-eIUour-EHRTsWhp3pTiMXB73vy9auFcEtGzDjwrOBZRDEP6maByAsS7t-7yTQ0OQN9THzQn9Q8kLkszS8v6oSEpHJoMhhLiYN8NlEUhNAgTTcFOMKF4GJ3jDy7qv85/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+044.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
After our amazing glance at the Sagrada Familia, everything else the Blue Bus had to offer on the tour was a little lackluster. Haha. So when we circled 'round to our stop, we headed to Starbucks for a pick-me-up. Seeing a Starbucks menu in Catalan was the shit. <-- HOW COOL to have it in such a random language (well, random seeming to me, anyway!) They spell "ch" with an "x" - I mean, come on. SWEET. I kept wondering if Chocolate is spelled something like xocolata... then would Chelsea be spelled like Xelsi? Damn, that's neat. Maybe I should move to Barcelona just to be able to spell my name like that. I tried to test it out by giving the barista my name, but she misheard me and just wrote, "Jesi." Darnit.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSTJ06fCVDvdgbpqTZi1IHcmhXUiniVIs5d6j3V4baXM1etdD9VkLy_sbPezfZh1NPg_lE_AYMDNgwRmCehoi8-LRbyIUPBvHrRylRrD3z3KlL00XViOdegO_5o5DvtY7pL2YubaGgnsO/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSTJ06fCVDvdgbpqTZi1IHcmhXUiniVIs5d6j3V4baXM1etdD9VkLy_sbPezfZh1NPg_lE_AYMDNgwRmCehoi8-LRbyIUPBvHrRylRrD3z3KlL00XViOdegO_5o5DvtY7pL2YubaGgnsO/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+063.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Next it was off to a stroll down Las Ramblas. I found an awesome Desigual facade and found an awesome CUPCAKE poster advertising an 80's dance party ...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEi6WlpJgqyfbWmOLXAVt_bHwF5exBStdNOoevpZQ_9US94F1_Mkxb6EfZBVSmQ9C1Y_it-UkCtUO0Km7iCVgTgVHWEwmht7jXA3WBU4BQkqAknY_Q4o_7ESKEZM2eGkCgkNgcDtGYQcy_/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEi6WlpJgqyfbWmOLXAVt_bHwF5exBStdNOoevpZQ_9US94F1_Mkxb6EfZBVSmQ9C1Y_it-UkCtUO0Km7iCVgTgVHWEwmht7jXA3WBU4BQkqAknY_Q4o_7ESKEZM2eGkCgkNgcDtGYQcy_/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+064.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwn-n56S6gUDBpW6nE8ApAU6OGiMaH2OuoKXaZ7l-GkEoRVVq0CR0LrqtyOYWKFa9nqdYIidW_dv99yzB86uSzxeV4ZAzg4PbKjefn1-177LogHF-qCf0-TaLY_3wQI6H1Z_lu_r3CNQMO/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+085.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwn-n56S6gUDBpW6nE8ApAU6OGiMaH2OuoKXaZ7l-GkEoRVVq0CR0LrqtyOYWKFa9nqdYIidW_dv99yzB86uSzxeV4ZAzg4PbKjefn1-177LogHF-qCf0-TaLY_3wQI6H1Z_lu_r3CNQMO/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+085.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
... took a blurry pic with Custo Barcelona IN Barcelona (omg cool) and found an "automatic ordering" set of kiosks at McDonald's (omg weird) ...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYdJ18yENc36uo7EPQRPj2AdZ6xBYR1Msly2rf-VfZXAngf3jUPy_jKLKTPk8X73Kxy2x9xNcd6uXogZPykEy9fk6OmP9z4ZbLeK9s6K012-JldCZ6WpEU3rZRYJoiiiBWIraxwsQ-vOn/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+091.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYdJ18yENc36uo7EPQRPj2AdZ6xBYR1Msly2rf-VfZXAngf3jUPy_jKLKTPk8X73Kxy2x9xNcd6uXogZPykEy9fk6OmP9z4ZbLeK9s6K012-JldCZ6WpEU3rZRYJoiiiBWIraxwsQ-vOn/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+091.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5R6auayahViAf1qjS4cKEaR7J0TXAplgLBCbo8v-7OGFLqasyY0eYSi5Ap73cVwMrpgypx0I7iZRhOncNvR0bHl-EPzAAck_K9XYVJ9C78g0iPeyVcm-939-fvPdgW_pqWIato97A1Re/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5R6auayahViAf1qjS4cKEaR7J0TXAplgLBCbo8v-7OGFLqasyY0eYSi5Ap73cVwMrpgypx0I7iZRhOncNvR0bHl-EPzAAck_K9XYVJ9C78g0iPeyVcm-939-fvPdgW_pqWIato97A1Re/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+070.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
But the best part of Las Ramblas by far was the crazy Dali-inspired street statue guy!! Sam practically cried and ran away when we suggested taking a pic with the guy (who HAD to be gay - I mean he had two inch purple feathers for eye lashes), but we finally got him to oblige. Hee hee!!<br />
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After Las Ramblas, we headed back to the hotel to rest up for our journey back HOME (Madrid - <3) tomorrow morning/afternoon. On our way we stopped for drinks for our room and I found a tiny pyanda byear! OMG - LOVE!! <3<br />
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I spent my night catching up on the week's blog posts that were all somewhat incomplete and am now seriously pooped. But I'm almost too excited to go to sleep 'cause I get to go HOME to MADRID tomorrow!!! I AM SO EXCITED!!! My Mediterranean adventure has been a hoot, but I miss my life in Madrid soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much. I can't wait to be on MY metro and spend plenty of time bothering L and going out with my Familia and seeing Ernesto and traveling a shit ton. YAY! ^_^ Time to go back to where I belong! <3<br />
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XOXO<br />
Jet-set CupcakeJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-47152802929751108762011-08-07T14:23:00.000-07:002011-08-08T15:13:08.802-07:00Day 70: Barcelona and the Case of the Sprained Ankle (Owwww...)By 9:30 we were off the ship. By 11:30 I had successfully stressed myself out, grabbed Sam's suitcase 'cause he was dragging it down the stairs and it was seriously pissing me off, and fell down the stairs in Barcelona's metro station, successfully twisting (or - eek - spraining?) my ankle. >_< I swear I never used to fall down stairs until I met L - it must be the karma of her epic cupcake fall biting me in the ass. I was so upset that I barely felt my ankle's injury... but after walking all the way to the hotel with my bags, all the way back to the metro later on and all around Park Guell, I can honestly say my poor little ankle is swollen, stiff and really damn upset with me. :-/ *whimpers* <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I mean, nobody told me what a ridiculous hill I'd have to trek up and down to get to this park - but the view of Barcelona from the top was awesome!! We could even see our ship on the horizon in the port!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD3FjUmK2W4OZ96qlnfE6TknaVs2GZEWNW6CH5pe2XjWg7HZ9IALFCK6mgSwUAf8Hak9BvCWBh0qzF_0iMcEoKcwZ-Un2QUoAYZBcNNTszVONNFBWjp3arotq3-xeZgkj58yfBmo39gUDn/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">On the way up the huge hill we stopped for a snack. Sam had a brownie and toast while I had a little empanada that looked and tasted like a giant tortellini with cheese, basil and tomato and a fresh little salad on the side - YUMMY! The cafe was so bright and colorful and cute!! ^_^<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYWvJVoQ9GNKQFtbW19tXIhZeUIkFqt9lluKNlUKZSbOUXo8ndscQsYkWkvoBE3K23NbLRV6utBDQRT0Jy9NNPrb4qfw_mi6GYoW4z-2TxOUkxjBM6ra6qVrAStLFBUw92oU9YQTmk3YT/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+104.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYWvJVoQ9GNKQFtbW19tXIhZeUIkFqt9lluKNlUKZSbOUXo8ndscQsYkWkvoBE3K23NbLRV6utBDQRT0Jy9NNPrb4qfw_mi6GYoW4z-2TxOUkxjBM6ra6qVrAStLFBUw92oU9YQTmk3YT/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+104.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4rR9goTl6xJ3MVgU6L7lY8woJYEV3ZyVTz1w_SocqbEM6s20Rsc99YowoKMBojtb7rrtNOMUVoJjJfFISvlplvOhHyyl-0bDUdUbGUIx1gO_zReA-SuE6c4wd7VnnRnGw7WYGrKedIkYe/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+115.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4rR9goTl6xJ3MVgU6L7lY8woJYEV3ZyVTz1w_SocqbEM6s20Rsc99YowoKMBojtb7rrtNOMUVoJjJfFISvlplvOhHyyl-0bDUdUbGUIx1gO_zReA-SuE6c4wd7VnnRnGw7WYGrKedIkYe/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+115.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>After a million hours of walking, we finally got to Park Guell itself!! YAY!! I felt as if I were in Vicky Christina Barcelona - tee hee!!<br />
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It was much different than I'd expected it, but I still enjoyed it tons! The crazy architecture and the the awesome colorful ceramics are amazing!!<br />
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</div>After the park we went to get some dinner (well, sorta) and then headed back for the hotel, as we were pooped and my ankle was hurting so badly that G had to switch me shoes so I could wear her Birkenstocks back home. ARCH support, please.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">XOXO</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jet-set Cupcake</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-70784690092987459872011-08-07T11:25:00.000-07:002011-08-08T15:27:46.161-07:00Day 69: Palma, Mallorca!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At the beginning of this tour, I wasn't sure how I was going to feel about Mallorca... our tour guide, Julia, was a wee bit of a crazy bee-yotch. I felt a bit like cattle or herded sheep... but Mallorca shined through the craziness of the tour guide and I feel in love with it! The first stop on our tour was the infamous castle of Mallorca:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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The next stop was to a tiny little town (Valdemosa?) that reminded me of a quaint, Spanish and tropical version of Aspen! There we had some AMAZING drinking chocolate and tried one of their local, yummy pastries. Nom nom nom...<br />
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The next stop was the Pearl Factory (a big bust - they're like bs plastic, over-priced pearls - wtf?) and the Plaza de Toros. Much to my surprise, the bullring turned out to be one of the most creepy, eerie and awesome things I saw on the trip - as I went off on my own to go exploring I found the Enfermaria... but one that seemed to have ceased functioning decades ago. Presumably, it was where the injured bullfighters were taken straight from the bullring - but to me, it looked like a perfect setting for a modern-day Hitchcock film. I spent a half hour there shooting pics of the place, thinking that if one day I wanted to have an exhibit of photos, these would be the photos I'd use. The place seemed SO old, but at the same time nothing had been taken down and looked as if it'd been used fairly recently. The juxtaposition, along with the looming cross, made everything that much more dynamic! Damn.<br />
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</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUd6WP_67xmZd-Lx1yFMaHGzdMnuClTDaEYNGTF7aU_kpVP_soggbkbOgNKbsUnXizxBmf4AdGpzucroqU5HOLmlUjwevczRS86xG_8FbUhMIwvKUmvQ4USa2dDPwv6MpolSy8HnusL59/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUd6WP_67xmZd-Lx1yFMaHGzdMnuClTDaEYNGTF7aU_kpVP_soggbkbOgNKbsUnXizxBmf4AdGpzucroqU5HOLmlUjwevczRS86xG_8FbUhMIwvKUmvQ4USa2dDPwv6MpolSy8HnusL59/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+035.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQv52QAguhoZgtf2waWJ7AC9_J1D7GnlADsTDQSiKBm43rQ6kK9QJGhbjn5c9OvOGA_BAT0owxVtpvrcLOfjkuXObyMQphI_x2-_dMxNnVGR5bYabb0MIahARgcG6VIVSe0Ih0VYqbb50W/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+048.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQv52QAguhoZgtf2waWJ7AC9_J1D7GnlADsTDQSiKBm43rQ6kK9QJGhbjn5c9OvOGA_BAT0owxVtpvrcLOfjkuXObyMQphI_x2-_dMxNnVGR5bYabb0MIahARgcG6VIVSe0Ih0VYqbb50W/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+048.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I figured a few pictures of the outside of the bullring would also be nice, just to show how gorgeous it was compared with the bleakness of the infirmary inside its walls. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSsy7XR-LGbmGIxxOVBl586WzvV3jh-nB6N2f-aCD3XHnG4VowH5QPzY_e-aB1_0dlpoz5D0u2jVfJjdzJDRKN6MyRHIrdphRNBx32seabB9Mjs8Ng0iC8Cz3gW445CxucHix3qGRmHJy/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSsy7XR-LGbmGIxxOVBl586WzvV3jh-nB6N2f-aCD3XHnG4VowH5QPzY_e-aB1_0dlpoz5D0u2jVfJjdzJDRKN6MyRHIrdphRNBx32seabB9Mjs8Ng0iC8Cz3gW445CxucHix3qGRmHJy/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+103.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR4uGNrBuN4KHinBINHZoAYWaThdK_wz6NnysKF6-ZBs3jenArl2jryIEFnWF7USeNNhYhF4OwbIfkrBwzfsAbK1p8kksvVG8PtX-1J1G6npn6xdD4lR4b6mLo4fdnkkSUdoq4j4uZGiIw/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+107.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR4uGNrBuN4KHinBINHZoAYWaThdK_wz6NnysKF6-ZBs3jenArl2jryIEFnWF7USeNNhYhF4OwbIfkrBwzfsAbK1p8kksvVG8PtX-1J1G6npn6xdD4lR4b6mLo4fdnkkSUdoq4j4uZGiIw/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+107.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Happily, my intrigue did not make me lose track of the time and I returned to the bus before everybody else. The next stop, Julia the guide explained, would be a drive by the cathedral, and then back to the ship. If anybody wished to stay in the city, however, they were more than welcome.<br />
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DING DING DING<br />
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Exploring on my own in a new foreign city?! I THINK SO!! After running over to the market that was just ending (it was worth the quick steps in the serious heat for my five euro fake, crazy colored Ray Bans - haha), I headed in the direction of the cathedral - one of four major cathedrals I studied in Little Gay Professor Man's Spanish Art History Class!! OMG!! The cathedral was absolutely BREATHTAKING! I couldn't believe it!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunqcA0QhUOTqJ3df6niSs8JdpPG9IRyyZSf6LjSlepJftGQ_36eX4wmGiTBqlTzEiOUuekcEvTCfUDUnI2HA4afGNKa4Bx90m2iFYoMO9u4YRTR5TIf7D28a2JbhDeYwpXuPJ64DrjkQu/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunqcA0QhUOTqJ3df6niSs8JdpPG9IRyyZSf6LjSlepJftGQ_36eX4wmGiTBqlTzEiOUuekcEvTCfUDUnI2HA4afGNKa4Bx90m2iFYoMO9u4YRTR5TIf7D28a2JbhDeYwpXuPJ64DrjkQu/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+114.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9yHgGwrELsR_01Ru8wUPyTCuw55f6bnbJUloD6mJAGu-NsoyHrydkiRQEVV8_1KeXl2ww0uWxnnlvDFbxIkN-pXi3WV7ZkZ5TnEVtET4hlA0QiZVnLboKTSGdl9rtyY5vbFhXNYaDJBry/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+124.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9yHgGwrELsR_01Ru8wUPyTCuw55f6bnbJUloD6mJAGu-NsoyHrydkiRQEVV8_1KeXl2ww0uWxnnlvDFbxIkN-pXi3WV7ZkZ5TnEVtET4hlA0QiZVnLboKTSGdl9rtyY5vbFhXNYaDJBry/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+124.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
It took me a few hours to actually end up at the cathedral, though, as I wandered the streets of Mallorca, coming across crazy naked statues, crazy naked columns (and getting up the guts to ask somebody to take a picture of me with it), crazy fortress castle palace places, an amazing jewelery store (at which a purchased the cheapest necklace they had and that I adore - a little chain with a picture of a yellow bird on it and a dangly leaf, pearl, heart and fake diamond!) and a guy playing the guitar who reminded me so much of Jack Johnson that I just wandered around for awhile on that street soaking up his guitar playing and voice. <3 I gave my last euro to him and he smiled real big and thanked me sincerely. A euro well spent, I believe. :) I listened a little while longer and then when I went to leave, gave him the most grateful/sweetest smile I could and turned around and went on my way, taking that moment with me. Ahh... street music in foreign countries is the best.<br />
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</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuz-xvuMOw5OQNitreBOUKb3kOFMKFd0maHq7ihpSBSefiSD0hTlWTXRJWzBhQbyBfpXxMeX0xhnmJFlKGUMXmXqr8hkI_ndJRwsWwkWj_-08YfopJSZdkscbUImDaygfRjkmGtScek313/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+120.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuz-xvuMOw5OQNitreBOUKb3kOFMKFd0maHq7ihpSBSefiSD0hTlWTXRJWzBhQbyBfpXxMeX0xhnmJFlKGUMXmXqr8hkI_ndJRwsWwkWj_-08YfopJSZdkscbUImDaygfRjkmGtScek313/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+120.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUvFyqnpmO7OALCZTm0OILNTNwcx3vChXpA_jks8o_q8KsEL5Q9OfXczQGBNYfMGwN-BtdsC-nZCoy7Gu5DooYft7TF6dGAULK0ZcnM6eNuFL-2TR4twtKJPeie8udoKHNpx712U39-7c/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUvFyqnpmO7OALCZTm0OILNTNwcx3vChXpA_jks8o_q8KsEL5Q9OfXczQGBNYfMGwN-BtdsC-nZCoy7Gu5DooYft7TF6dGAULK0ZcnM6eNuFL-2TR4twtKJPeie8udoKHNpx712U39-7c/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+193.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuir3jqe3XZl-lqXTBYIAKCdfPtGUtNNl_jchgmtqdNs7j-OytA7fxN4N6ZusPOvrWM_AxK_iU160yZmoYRi0K2fGoAcwbXgz2LNl4YmphE6HWXUjJUn0O0QMB8brfG62x1wwojLxOxOL/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+155.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
All in all - an amazing afternoon of exploring a new place. <3 This sort of thing is most certainly one of my most favorite activities EVER!!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim5EJxMS06XTdbfZ25Jc4WyJpUhnTsCFmcSOOWfuulNTpseFdnvWYN6OLvWubVw73Oa890FFr-6ZzTFe3XCLEAB3jgiSBSI2TjhjuiANPBJEItujdRWM77rwGYCfoZG8G1fPc30nwhpTMe/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+208.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim5EJxMS06XTdbfZ25Jc4WyJpUhnTsCFmcSOOWfuulNTpseFdnvWYN6OLvWubVw73Oa890FFr-6ZzTFe3XCLEAB3jgiSBSI2TjhjuiANPBJEItujdRWM77rwGYCfoZG8G1fPc30nwhpTMe/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+208.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGyBDaYDhDTv9Nv09MTPVwUqYQgDIwDc7SfFocGuH9rBrK3cIth-tw7wErjGGfT3QTqgWNTJ3iwH5j7E_lv6tSPS4BdGA8hjmo4PBopqYGSpmy30v6SZK1PUl7ltxMbts_WuO9BUOl15gi/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+206.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGyBDaYDhDTv9Nv09MTPVwUqYQgDIwDc7SfFocGuH9rBrK3cIth-tw7wErjGGfT3QTqgWNTJ3iwH5j7E_lv6tSPS4BdGA8hjmo4PBopqYGSpmy30v6SZK1PUl7ltxMbts_WuO9BUOl15gi/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+206.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Soon enough it was time to head back to the ship, where we had dinner and played a few more games in the arcade before turning in our thousand plus tickets into really dorky prizes. ;) I got a martini before heading down to dinner at the Italian restaurant (Sam had been begging to go there the whole time) and was feeling happy as a clam... but Grandma had a bad headache and went up to the room as our appetizers were served. This meant that between Sam and myself, we had a steak, a pizza and a bowl of penne pasta to eat for the main course!! It was really cute 'cause Sam took it as a mandatory task to do his best to finish it all. He ate every last noodle, three pieces of pizza and a fourth of the steak! DAMN!!! After stuffing our faces, we returned once again to the arcade to get our final prize picks done. Last night on the ship = a bit bittersweet.<br />
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XOXO<br />
Jet-set CupcakeJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-30456782136137763642011-08-07T05:06:00.000-07:002011-08-08T15:50:38.944-07:00Day 68: Whatever Floats Your Boat<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8OsgShUrHSHv8NUvpsJKsE6FOiTygM3Krz2GKvxHZw3Bkitl3SeBgWvv7JGAFyrJWH80ce-jhiZx-eq-fDh7IxaZphY9wLCCUWWpOqqAm1H_saB7Qn9nkc3oq77c6z_njZ59lIHrRRrq/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Aaaaaaaaaaaand I'm proud to report that I did absolutely NOTHING today!! Wooohoo!!! It was a "Day at Sea" on the ship and that meant official laws were put into place that read, "Nobody is to make a tiny squeak until 2:30 pm, lest they wake up the Oh Great Sleeping Chelsea from her deep, deep slumber." And, lo and behold, nobody did!! ^_^ Hell. Yes. Actually, I woke up when I heard Sam using his cute little, "don't wake anybody up!" whisper around 12:30 when they left to go eat and watch Slime Time Live, and although I tried to fall back asleep, the memory of him kicking me in the face awake (it wasn't his fault, his feet were close to my head in the bed arrangement - lol - and it'd happened a few other times this week, too! Waking up with a foot in your face is an odd feeling...) in the middle of the night made me giggle and it was all to no avail. So I got up, headed upstairs to the buffet, and lounged a bit.<br />
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The rest of the day was filled with quality Sam time! Lunch, arcade games, wandering the ship, lots of soft-serve (for him, not me - eww) and, finally, late night hot-tubbing. ^_^ Awesome. It was just the two of uw in the hot tub and we had a great time. One conversation led to another and suddenly we were talking about what happens after we die and what might the meaning of life be. For a ten year old, Sam could definitely hold his own in this discussion and got very into the whole thing. It was adorable to have somebody who acts so young during the day (and when around only certain people) to be so mature and pensive by night in the glow of the moon in the hot tub. Honestly the most adorable part of the whole cruise.<br />
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When we got back to our room, Grandma was just on her way out to hit the casino. Captain (M)organ had left us a towel monkey hanging above the bed (he always leaves us towel animals - in fact the ship has towel animal classes sometimes - lol), and Sam took this as a personal challenge to make one himself. And dang did he succeed!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8OsgShUrHSHv8NUvpsJKsE6FOiTygM3Krz2GKvxHZw3Bkitl3SeBgWvv7JGAFyrJWH80ce-jhiZx-eq-fDh7IxaZphY9wLCCUWWpOqqAm1H_saB7Qn9nkc3oq77c6z_njZ59lIHrRRrq/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+003.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8OsgShUrHSHv8NUvpsJKsE6FOiTygM3Krz2GKvxHZw3Bkitl3SeBgWvv7JGAFyrJWH80ce-jhiZx-eq-fDh7IxaZphY9wLCCUWWpOqqAm1H_saB7Qn9nkc3oq77c6z_njZ59lIHrRRrq/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Though I didn't get my tan on, nor hit up the panda slots nor the block party slots, hanging with Sam made the day at sea a delight! <3<br />
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XOXO<br />
Jet-set CupcakeJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-30776337206288883882011-08-07T05:02:00.000-07:002011-08-07T13:55:11.531-07:00Day 67: Amalfi, Pompeii & Churrascaria<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After my usual hearty breakfast of cinnamon buns with extra brown sugar on top, scrambled eggs, bacon and OJ, it was off to the bus for our trip in Naples! First stop? The Amalfi Coast!!! <3 I ADORE the Amalfi Coast - it's just so blissfully gorgeous. The winding roads high, high up on the lush cliffs, the perfectly clear sea below, the brightly colored flowers and the quaintness of each little village.... mmmmm happiness!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOAfhOi3fhdo06WGeuNaPW58JjgN1RJFCFCNe0LcEH23AkylvfNjCUg2DAxjJpikDq8rbaMIuxiDZEmyRpXl3OCA62OCo-X0vPpbZWpdfvnYhAVEXNDjBgqWTBqpQy2YUdGnoFoku8dSJ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+062.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOAfhOi3fhdo06WGeuNaPW58JjgN1RJFCFCNe0LcEH23AkylvfNjCUg2DAxjJpikDq8rbaMIuxiDZEmyRpXl3OCA62OCo-X0vPpbZWpdfvnYhAVEXNDjBgqWTBqpQy2YUdGnoFoku8dSJ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+062.JPG" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67GYQDTeLlZftAKsBfCD80QEIClhk0NvILv_uTPI1EiPOkPebBsb-gdVn56VzULpVLIZOZGiFD6iO2PpCGgWidZeAbY9HdLSe3VYci07ZWsUc5wu91IMDo56LHO1_t_EzRSB7hLTLBOUB/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+076.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67GYQDTeLlZftAKsBfCD80QEIClhk0NvILv_uTPI1EiPOkPebBsb-gdVn56VzULpVLIZOZGiFD6iO2PpCGgWidZeAbY9HdLSe3VYci07ZWsUc5wu91IMDo56LHO1_t_EzRSB7hLTLBOUB/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+076.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our tour guide took us to the main village of Amalfi and I got a few little things for my favorite people and a postcard of Amalfi at sunset, which I plan on framing. :) Next it was off to a really fancy lunch overlooking the Mediterranean. It reminded me of the meals we had in Amalfi when I was there in 2003 - blissful views with pants-wetting conversations... not that I wet my pants, but it just made me reminiscent. Haha.<br />
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</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOAfhOi3fhdo06WGeuNaPW58JjgN1RJFCFCNe0LcEH23AkylvfNjCUg2DAxjJpikDq8rbaMIuxiDZEmyRpXl3OCA62OCo-X0vPpbZWpdfvnYhAVEXNDjBgqWTBqpQy2YUdGnoFoku8dSJ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7jyx8voZdnuIUFkkClYYotEvJnoji1aLvDWWMIMHZax9fZFcO90GGUQsfr97u0CuDEqMQsO1WKO9g2IRnDkxbMoaB8eK95Tr-xIz96ozO5wEM_JfHi0SjxK98KqRGbQ5KPs00mVw1Eiqh/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+095.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDsG4W2CkX6UpeOoZwGkhKRXZkpgg2TJnCxZITMRDXCIuvYiw0WNtW8LG1uIZrIt7Cr-jiT8tHgBblsA57batHJTXkt_IFsJ8Vk7MvpkoYIkIGlMuliLL1XJh0e1kCSV8qMKfsuJ3blyaq/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+084.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDsG4W2CkX6UpeOoZwGkhKRXZkpgg2TJnCxZITMRDXCIuvYiw0WNtW8LG1uIZrIt7Cr-jiT8tHgBblsA57batHJTXkt_IFsJ8Vk7MvpkoYIkIGlMuliLL1XJh0e1kCSV8qMKfsuJ3blyaq/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+084.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDsG4W2CkX6UpeOoZwGkhKRXZkpgg2TJnCxZITMRDXCIuvYiw0WNtW8LG1uIZrIt7Cr-jiT8tHgBblsA57batHJTXkt_IFsJ8Vk7MvpkoYIkIGlMuliLL1XJh0e1kCSV8qMKfsuJ3blyaq/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+084.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOAfhOi3fhdo06WGeuNaPW58JjgN1RJFCFCNe0LcEH23AkylvfNjCUg2DAxjJpikDq8rbaMIuxiDZEmyRpXl3OCA62OCo-X0vPpbZWpdfvnYhAVEXNDjBgqWTBqpQy2YUdGnoFoku8dSJ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67GYQDTeLlZftAKsBfCD80QEIClhk0NvILv_uTPI1EiPOkPebBsb-gdVn56VzULpVLIZOZGiFD6iO2PpCGgWidZeAbY9HdLSe3VYci07ZWsUc5wu91IMDo56LHO1_t_EzRSB7hLTLBOUB/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+076.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>After lunch it was off to Sam's destination of the trip: Pompeii. While Pompeii in general is very fascinating, I gotta say my initial introduction to it last time was a lot more attention-grabbing. Upon walking into Pompeii when I was 14, a person had just died of heatstroke in the middle of one of the old buildings. They'd placed a sheet over the person, but it still looked oddly apt considering the surroundings. This visit, however, did not include any recently deceased individuals (phew).<br />
<br />
I think I was so intregued by this person's death on my last trip that I failed to hear some of the interesting facts of Pompeii - like that the streets often had water in them, so they had high stepping stones that carriages could still go through so that you could cross streets even when they were wet; that there were over 40 bakeries in the city; that there is still at least 25% of Pomepii buried under ash that has yet to be excavated; and that three-somes were on the menu in the brothel (but only 2 guy, 1 girl ones as far as I could tell).<br />
POMPEII<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixa31VTELbS6Q9EJm_syNRJEdZmgND9JzGtQT3ju7xlYejIOd7JV2b3Rn66NeBxof0lF8BER7sww2AhmFqhHXWsOOKEw3zNZt2zf0U2_9ZNpJDd20zCuCvyHchVVPVZpzAKql-hgmBh3Dw/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+110.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixa31VTELbS6Q9EJm_syNRJEdZmgND9JzGtQT3ju7xlYejIOd7JV2b3Rn66NeBxof0lF8BER7sww2AhmFqhHXWsOOKEw3zNZt2zf0U2_9ZNpJDd20zCuCvyHchVVPVZpzAKql-hgmBh3Dw/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+110.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-twjWrzWNevhSgwCDg-o9Rf0s7a05tmAmQ0G1JhNgHJj8ScwAc1Qong7hJRxTdj2NtZHBXwRIv9sazOJH2cK1PT44hXJ8K0c6mAG83mC6J1TrAWRh9B1Hq4edLeVP5_pwDMHanlTRjekB/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-twjWrzWNevhSgwCDg-o9Rf0s7a05tmAmQ0G1JhNgHJj8ScwAc1Qong7hJRxTdj2NtZHBXwRIv9sazOJH2cK1PT44hXJ8K0c6mAG83mC6J1TrAWRh9B1Hq4edLeVP5_pwDMHanlTRjekB/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+106.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I also didn't recall seeing the molds of some of the deceased people (and dog!) like I saw this time. It was really freaky to see their bones and teeth all while they were in positions of asphyxiation. :-/ How awful.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0K5grZimYZ_SSw2JzQgeSEcnNnU5JQ4FekhZJJcBvrUykeSdCDDY3PITjY1XN5zc4-RzgJwxVE-IKJ9MJdcgit6wedFDRRhPUXyO9srGWlvQl7Vq4stbQalr9F_h2Ln3WfdlaTpUtNleO/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0K5grZimYZ_SSw2JzQgeSEcnNnU5JQ4FekhZJJcBvrUykeSdCDDY3PITjY1XN5zc4-RzgJwxVE-IKJ9MJdcgit6wedFDRRhPUXyO9srGWlvQl7Vq4stbQalr9F_h2Ln3WfdlaTpUtNleO/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+109.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBYWEcCEZmWLXrSVPnmhjIcYuVnvmUKJUkA72RxnEjcI931hsxBg77T2Od8xs6LdpNk0YqpBAJNmMKI1FE7PIlXkCL24gvdeHW7HQ_Uh3KRJQYh7hjb0vLPg3IRJdDzoNTO4NAVsAK63X-/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+112.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBYWEcCEZmWLXrSVPnmhjIcYuVnvmUKJUkA72RxnEjcI931hsxBg77T2Od8xs6LdpNk0YqpBAJNmMKI1FE7PIlXkCL24gvdeHW7HQ_Uh3KRJQYh7hjb0vLPg3IRJdDzoNTO4NAVsAK63X-/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+112.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0K5grZimYZ_SSw2JzQgeSEcnNnU5JQ4FekhZJJcBvrUykeSdCDDY3PITjY1XN5zc4-RzgJwxVE-IKJ9MJdcgit6wedFDRRhPUXyO9srGWlvQl7Vq4stbQalr9F_h2Ln3WfdlaTpUtNleO/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixa31VTELbS6Q9EJm_syNRJEdZmgND9JzGtQT3ju7xlYejIOd7JV2b3Rn66NeBxof0lF8BER7sww2AhmFqhHXWsOOKEw3zNZt2zf0U2_9ZNpJDd20zCuCvyHchVVPVZpzAKql-hgmBh3Dw/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"> By the end of the day's tours, we were more than pooped and went back to the ship for a relaxing night filled with Brazilian BBQ at world's only Churrascaria on a cruise liner! YUMMY!!! Pao de queijo, fried 'naners and enough steak to feed me for a month... DE-LICIOUS!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">All in all, a fun but tiring day.</div><div style="text-align: left;">XOXO</div><div style="text-align: left;">Jet-set Cupcake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-91041227584887361802011-08-03T16:18:00.001-07:002011-08-07T03:49:43.368-07:00Day 66: Dancing with the Stars!!! (And Rome, too!)<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I gotta be honest here and say that the tour around Rome felt a little... long. Yeah, we saw the Trevi Fountain and threw in three coins to make three wishes (hey – I got what I wished for last time!)...<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0ft07aKxGGvxnutVN_ElcBHjtbOBYADAheGEFvFXDNQW9K6uqA94zmajmgg5lacVNlr5xr_gs83rdj037gpqUN9fjzWUkP9M9vzKnGx4NUbXbJoX5UD2zkgFk0iVJHKYoKglwEnR2sux/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+004.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0ft07aKxGGvxnutVN_ElcBHjtbOBYADAheGEFvFXDNQW9K6uqA94zmajmgg5lacVNlr5xr_gs83rdj037gpqUN9fjzWUkP9M9vzKnGx4NUbXbJoX5UD2zkgFk0iVJHKYoKglwEnR2sux/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+004.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">... went to the Roman Forum...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5AZXYZ0AYXq-x94laC76UAdXvoheZTKfdCMnM0shPiyq9motoCIu-Sb5ES2ZtLMWVL2yy_dLHkoQb2A0ul8wBtwNdo8sJzsLHuLfdm3orq0BmlQXUS-qwR8A9P_vSW5smrNiN1eQRcG2/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+021.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5AZXYZ0AYXq-x94laC76UAdXvoheZTKfdCMnM0shPiyq9motoCIu-Sb5ES2ZtLMWVL2yy_dLHkoQb2A0ul8wBtwNdo8sJzsLHuLfdm3orq0BmlQXUS-qwR8A9P_vSW5smrNiN1eQRcG2/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+021.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
... explored the Colosseum (there were no kitties in the underground part like last time – poo)...</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbaktI9eTJx1vc5Z4kOozUBI0YNkrSsHM1pBeEF-6p7-IVQMj_qemzsjLglHeqDI7k0BKiuiYEs7OBB7-m0_FZKsCRCK6ckwuke7wJps_qIWd_T10E4Kg9y2rNVmktImRn20QnfWGju6MC/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+043.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbaktI9eTJx1vc5Z4kOozUBI0YNkrSsHM1pBeEF-6p7-IVQMj_qemzsjLglHeqDI7k0BKiuiYEs7OBB7-m0_FZKsCRCK6ckwuke7wJps_qIWd_T10E4Kg9y2rNVmktImRn20QnfWGju6MC/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+043.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgKWsLOaFJrG9UdK_q2-ch5UMPUYPLrfUe6bknGzo8SyI47QD6EKKie93w_c8y4YGhssbtgaSWAQgkFPQEzf61KLR1-WPzUvwr9gt4J-x6vLGfOodS4fQzzenPdMotiW-V1V-wTcX-xUM/s1600/DSC00904.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsv0EOBTfw_UUGcvHSmk911rP8uHuC6zYzKg609pK-7no5_Nf0EIKDKPGKRWQ0gZd10SFow0SLr_lg70utLjrwBI6E_lq-BildEFnS5wGrg6QnRrJaK7pYeb1_N-Ew5OKjqVihE7tudC2/s1600/DSC00905.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsv0EOBTfw_UUGcvHSmk911rP8uHuC6zYzKg609pK-7no5_Nf0EIKDKPGKRWQ0gZd10SFow0SLr_lg70utLjrwBI6E_lq-BildEFnS5wGrg6QnRrJaK7pYeb1_N-Ew5OKjqVihE7tudC2/s320/DSC00905.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">... went to lunch with the group...</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCP954qKZlWLxmerIhhm8YI80RP5maRfdjn1RorDeaewdKWU-uCWLnZa7T2edU6Ioe4ZZs9tPEq2OGr_aa_pHVmlogNSWyJsLZJ6jHPVA6MJm3TlWo3xv_XMouR1dm4827B7E55Sddukql/s1600/DSC00917.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCP954qKZlWLxmerIhhm8YI80RP5maRfdjn1RorDeaewdKWU-uCWLnZa7T2edU6Ioe4ZZs9tPEq2OGr_aa_pHVmlogNSWyJsLZJ6jHPVA6MJm3TlWo3xv_XMouR1dm4827B7E55Sddukql/s320/DSC00917.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">went to the Vatican and St. Peter's Basilica...</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZGIxsGVE2q-0ARGKKXMd9W1dCKE1GcCMXtBYqn9Eharf3LNu31R47uGhBrg7tQJlb2G1l5_-wyySZkgA-UK2D0Ox97uCu0vFnLHNwredr5v6t8Q7bm3WdG-_oQmvGkMEXNOHrDYo1MLD/s1600/DSC00922.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZGIxsGVE2q-0ARGKKXMd9W1dCKE1GcCMXtBYqn9Eharf3LNu31R47uGhBrg7tQJlb2G1l5_-wyySZkgA-UK2D0Ox97uCu0vFnLHNwredr5v6t8Q7bm3WdG-_oQmvGkMEXNOHrDYo1MLD/s320/DSC00922.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfr6MlVwVPF9BFW48sfuf5acft0DMgCyG0eOAB8MV3qg5RScHI4akOLPbX34V7cUlCtHXagEiVAby52ouz3S_zddN8_l0CGplFQ0EqY_lJpO0CW3iq4N_fcn6rEXx4oVnVp_zk1VSTBb2k/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+060.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfr6MlVwVPF9BFW48sfuf5acft0DMgCyG0eOAB8MV3qg5RScHI4akOLPbX34V7cUlCtHXagEiVAby52ouz3S_zddN8_l0CGplFQ0EqY_lJpO0CW3iq4N_fcn6rEXx4oVnVp_zk1VSTBb2k/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+060.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And yep, I can officially say I've been in two places at one time (just like in “A Walk to Remember” - awww!!): I stepped on both sides of the line marking the Vatican from Italy.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQadfacbzgv_pJMWFtR9NhBjk_8ph-vCGdIRav02oYGdPpSGdpJwrLGtGmwaTaI2T7HT3pCnNk2zqRXH-eSZqEh7ygvJIGG6o_T0tskFEgB4BNE_i2pu__COde2EYxmSMu480HHBn_0Tjx/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+010.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQadfacbzgv_pJMWFtR9NhBjk_8ph-vCGdIRav02oYGdPpSGdpJwrLGtGmwaTaI2T7HT3pCnNk2zqRXH-eSZqEh7ygvJIGG6o_T0tskFEgB4BNE_i2pu__COde2EYxmSMu480HHBn_0Tjx/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+010.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><br />
I can officially say I've tried Blood Orange Fanta (it doesn't taste much different from normal Fanta, except that in Italy they use no food dye in their Fantas, but instead color the plastic bottles accordingly... hmmm). I can even say I saw the canopy in St. Peter's Basilica and thought immediately of Little Gay Professor Man and thought how jubilant he'd be that I didn't need need, “Dos minutos, chicos y chicas, para fijais! De que epoca pertenece esto?” because I knew it was the epitome of the Baroque era! But all in all... it was a lot of walking, a lot of heat and a lot of exhaustion.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I felt like one of those over-spoiled types, sure, but everybody on the tour seemed to be wilting a few hours into the whole thing except for the guide, who went on and on, pleased as punch, saying repeatedly, “Look well!” and “He killed!” (instead of “He was killed”) and telling us how much every service costs at St. Peter's Basilica (Do you want to get married there? 7.000 euro for an hour with a limit of 20 guests. Do you want private time with your family in the chapel? 2.5000 euro for two hours between 18.30 and 20.30. Do you want one on one time to be blessed by the Pope? 15.000 euro for an hour and a private entrance through the Sistene Chapel.).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When we finally got back to the ship, all of us were ready to unwind. Grandma was in her swim suit and out the door before Sam and I could blink. We joined her later and went on a bunch of waterslides and went hot tubbing. :) I was keeping an eye on my watch, though, 'cause I wasn't just about to miss Dancing with the (Epic) Stars!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I got back to the room with an hour to get showered, dressed up in my lemon dress and made-up. By 9:05 I was in the Atrium lounge, all ready to sign myself up. So when sign up turned out to consist solely of writing your name on a slip of paper, I got nervous. What if my piece of paper didn't get selected?! What would I do?! Just then, Grandma and Sam came down to be my cheerleaders. I tried to explain I wasn't sure if I'd even get to compete, but Sam was confident I would be up there.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As 9:30 rolled around they announced the judges, then the “pros” and then finally began selecting names out of the jars. First girl? Somebody from the UK. Second girl? Someone from Ireland. Third girl? “Chelsea from Denver, Colorado!”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I jumped out of my seat and trotted past the cameras (this was all being broadcast to the entire ship of about 6,000 people) to my partner, “Remix.” He smiled and winked at me and took my arm. As they introduced us he whispered not to worry, we'd just be crazy and have fun. I told him I was more or less a ballroom dancer and I would lead whatever he followed. This made him smile and he nodded.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD9iXTl-rQ43IMDK5578CdEXmI_Wz9sEpLZmtHZRopXFF55xGXeKttdZbJ58vP_AFbCfALraEpzjd_50KCcix__0GdWFv6mR4Btz1dpsPPhjaZMjTS05tcIT5FGeCzYUSrBRr-Zg74DQ6M/s1600/DSC00942.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD9iXTl-rQ43IMDK5578CdEXmI_Wz9sEpLZmtHZRopXFF55xGXeKttdZbJ58vP_AFbCfALraEpzjd_50KCcix__0GdWFv6mR4Btz1dpsPPhjaZMjTS05tcIT5FGeCzYUSrBRr-Zg74DQ6M/s320/DSC00942.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There were eight couples and seven rounds (but, eek, I can't remember what one of them was... if it comes to me, I'll let you know):</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First round? 70's Disco!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I had no idea what to do for this, so I let Remix lead it all. Right away he put me in hand-hold position and could tell I knew more or less what I was doing. While everybody else was doing the disco-finger, we were more or less doing the Jive with a little impromptu craziness on the side! He winked at me as the judges said all eight of the couples had sucked, “Don't worry, they always hype it up like this at the beginning – we're gonna win!” And with that, the first couple was voted off.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Second round? Waltz!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Remix claimed he didn't know how to waltz, but a few seconds into the song and it became quite clear that was a lie! We waltzed all over the stage and I tried my best to do the strange backward-bend pose I'd learned at Shut up and Dance in Fondy the year I'd lived there. We glided without to many mis-steps and we both dipped each other to get the audience going! He also picked me up and spun me semi-gracefully, which the judges commented on: “It was a nice move, but Chelsea is wearing a dress and there are small children in the front row...” Haha. Either way, another round safe!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Third round? Country Dancing!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Country dancing? I looked at him as if to say, “wtf?” thinking that was going to be like Country Two Step, but instead it was a bunch of dosey-does (however you spell that) and some little cowboy kicks. The absolute best part, though, was when he told me to jump on his back and we ran around the stage while I did the lasso motion above his head!!! :) The other couples tried to copy our awesome move, but to no avail. ;) Safe!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Fourth round? Latin! </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Hell yes,” I thought to myself. “Bring it ON.” Remix turned out to have some hip moves on him, because he got all down with the music and was doing merengue, salsa and bachata all over the place. When I followed suit, he yelled, “YEAH girl, you can move. GET IT!” and winked at me. *<b>dancing bliss</b>*</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Fifth round? Michael Jackson (Thriller)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We'd gone in the back for another water break when the boys told us that the next song would be “Thriller.” I told him I'd accidentally missed that dance class and I had no idea what to do. “Just follow me – we just gotta entertain the audience and we'll be fine.” Sure enough, with enough “Thriller” moves, we got the judges adoring us.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The moment of truth came and there were three couples. The judges got to pick their favorite couple of the competition to advance to finals. After much debate they announced their pick: “Couple Number Five: Remix and Chelea!” OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Sixth? Medley! Tango, Swing then Polka.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This was it. This was our time to shine. And Remix told me so. We ROCKED the Tango. I was a little all over the place, but when Remix asked, “Can I drag you?” I nodded and leaned in, doing my very best Tango pose I could come up with. The audience cheered and the judges loved it! Next was swing. The other couple did a lift, so we countered with swinging both of each other through our legs. :) And finally, the Polka was a big disaster. I know I lived and danced in Wisconsin for awhile, but nothing was coming to me – nor the other pair, for that matter!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After the judges gave their comments, it was time for the audience to decide. I looked over and saw Sam SCREAMING and YELLING when it was time to vote for me – it was the most adorable thing EVER!!! So many people were WOOHOOing and standing up and cheering and clapping and yelling!!!! It was a close call (and the girl from the other pair had an adorable yellow asymetrical dress with high high heels and a cute blonde braid in her Irish hair), but the winner was announced:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">REMIX AND CHELSEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">OH.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">MY.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">F*ING.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I WON DANCING WITH THE (EPIC) STARS!!!!!! The ship-wide dance competition on one of the biggest cruise ships in the world!!! HELL YES!!!! They gave me a trophy and a bag full of prizes and then asked me to do my victory dance.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmiUUkiQTc0sunsfQNpKccIURirawVLJPnmfUgK4aR0FUeaxi3fGS8artAUk49qNLMstfwXlbx5jNPQhiXNaxWTtIa5IiJpr6BptXNGrZTuSHFmtmV2I7DevnY1utWScfHMori36tV-cfx/s1600/DSC00959.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmiUUkiQTc0sunsfQNpKccIURirawVLJPnmfUgK4aR0FUeaxi3fGS8artAUk49qNLMstfwXlbx5jNPQhiXNaxWTtIa5IiJpr6BptXNGrZTuSHFmtmV2I7DevnY1utWScfHMori36tV-cfx/s320/DSC00959.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8-Sv969FtOoR2EGrb1jlZPtIDhsRj4NjY8EfANMoO2CQZbe5UtgDOJj03LNL0NLwnY5ZExeiyzZQ3tAiupolNjea6obbl0yMLH-kxC0gILvICuFh8Lh4LBUvW36Q1BO28KJWAq6ln0qG/s1600/DSC00959.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I'm too tired – somebody else dsereves this dance,” Remix said to Andy, our cruise director and host of the show/competition. And just then, the character from Avatar came out, dressed in his big costume with his giant head! HAHAHA!! They started playing “I had the time of my life” and I stared dancing with Avatar.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapB6PSmAiQthnbjzb3GW4YOqw3RdgKUi_Li5__IvVXQFgqm_BdDDTee6OA8-iDFDCsa8WtIy750vuyIla9NFdRrz-PABaPlNr0fsMJNa_CUfRNw7u7ort4mFq5G8Wba_N_deDIYHjU9gF/s1600/DSC00954.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapB6PSmAiQthnbjzb3GW4YOqw3RdgKUi_Li5__IvVXQFgqm_BdDDTee6OA8-iDFDCsa8WtIy750vuyIla9NFdRrz-PABaPlNr0fsMJNa_CUfRNw7u7ort4mFq5G8Wba_N_deDIYHjU9gF/s320/DSC00954.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyEDDVgArcQLcs7WRsQsdXvh72wUz9JsUWyzWQlRK-y3eqcgK2OxWCY2Jzdz60bfTZjfujf03LR7_2vOTijXuHunqNei5H_JSb4EB0JJ1xC4mRGkTQ3ANYb4rPLDdgWltJXIYMDTl07M3/s1600/DSC00955.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<br />
</div>LOL. Half way through the song, Remix came back and finished the song with me and everybody cheered!!!! Remix invited me out to the club Bliss and countless people from the audience came up to me for the rest of the night around the ship, telling me that I'd done a great job!!! Awwww!!! Sam told me I was “famous now” and asked if he could be my “Official Body Guard.” He offered me his chocolate chip cookie and his 7up, saying he was scared the other food was poisoned and as my body guard, he couldn't have anything happen to me. Hahaha. <3 CUTE!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyEDDVgArcQLcs7WRsQsdXvh72wUz9JsUWyzWQlRK-y3eqcgK2OxWCY2Jzdz60bfTZjfujf03LR7_2vOTijXuHunqNei5H_JSb4EB0JJ1xC4mRGkTQ3ANYb4rPLDdgWltJXIYMDTl07M3/s1600/DSC00955.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">If it weren't 1:11 am and I didn't have to wake up at 6:15 to catch my bus to Pompeii and the Amalfi Coast tomorrow, I would spend the whole night typing every detail and how surreal I felt. I'm not sure the last time I won FIRST place in something?! I always got 2<sup>nd</sup> in Debate. I got 3<sup>rd</sup> in my West Coast Swing competition. The only thing I can think of was the costume contest I was in when I was about 5 when I dressed up as an Orange M&M and my Elmo had a suit to match – hee hee!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But really – it was beyond AMAZING. <3 **squeal!!!*</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">XOXO</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jet-set Cupcake</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-56573111410745343872011-08-02T15:26:00.000-07:002011-08-08T16:04:30.151-07:00Day 65: Florence, Italy & Captain (M)organ<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Upon waking up we were docked and in Livorno! After a quick breakfast, we were in the auditorium, ready for our tour number to be called so we could catch our bus. They'd informed us the bus would take a good two hours, but this was all pure poppycock, as we were there much sooner than that. Our tour guide walked us to the Duomo and let us lose. Before running towards freedom, I asked the tour guide where Sam and I might be able to find the Monastery. We were cautioned that it was a good 45 minute walk, but he drew its general whereabouts on the map anyway and with that we were off!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisN_LxxVIS2-XCTR57LiWJZqRAP4eWAi3WnqYsHXgrRrRdkN08FyW9ZjNM5JkkDcX8tyOl8okAScz2wvHv80jjdbI1Z8oanDpcAooouItVxclQmWPxucKprUOhnvzFwsr38F9m-y0kafiT/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+031.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisN_LxxVIS2-XCTR57LiWJZqRAP4eWAi3WnqYsHXgrRrRdkN08FyW9ZjNM5JkkDcX8tyOl8okAScz2wvHv80jjdbI1Z8oanDpcAooouItVxclQmWPxucKprUOhnvzFwsr38F9m-y0kafiT/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+031.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First stop? Sam's choice: GELATO! I was so nervous about trying to remember any of the Italian I learned my Freshman year living in the Italian dorm (all I could remember was “Mi piace il scoiatolo!” and I was pretty sure randomly screaming, “I love the squirrel!” was not going to get me anywhere...) that Sam ended up with the largest cone in the world for a mere 10 euro. >_< FAIL. He did love it though and it did succeed in getting him uber chocolatey. Hee hee.</div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUBkJkbmGQJCzJZdqpjYaR9xU7VBLw9NkLyaaqQ96AlYMGihyphenhyphennx1MxlwjRpn8Db0snUv5YzJ1NgiGpDpAmYggPB8od9ybITCT_Jotx3_v6PgXDLdSwoLCi0VRozauBaMm2oJ_MjrqUHRqE/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+012.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUBkJkbmGQJCzJZdqpjYaR9xU7VBLw9NkLyaaqQ96AlYMGihyphenhyphennx1MxlwjRpn8Db0snUv5YzJ1NgiGpDpAmYggPB8od9ybITCT_Jotx3_v6PgXDLdSwoLCi0VRozauBaMm2oJ_MjrqUHRqE/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After our gelato adventure, we explored the city a bit and then began our journey towards San Ninato Monastery. I went to Italy when I was 14 and Florence had been my most favorite city of the tour – still, I was surprised that on our walk to San Ninato, I began to recognize many, many things – and even found the hotel we'd stayed in! Our guide's directions weren't very concrete, but as I looked up the hill on the other side of the river, I remembered the general path and set forth in that direction. Sam took a few rest stops, but when he started to slow down on our journey up the hill, I reminded him that true Ninjas never got tired and that he better not be slowing down. He then challenged me to an uphill race and I lost miserably. Ha.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At the top of the huge hill we were greeted by many little touristy shop kiosks that were uber cheap as compared to the shops in the center of Firenze near the Duomo! Sam got a shirt that looked like DaVinci's sketch of man, but instead it was a sketch of Homer Simpson and I got a Universita Firenze hoodie (along with a few gifts for friends)!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A slushy and an ice cream cone later and we were finally at the Monastery, overlooking the entire city! *<b>Breathtaking!* </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">It was gorgeous, but quite as tranquil and deserted as I'd remembered. o_O Looks like I'll have to find a different place to call “My favorite place on earth.” I think my secret spot in Madrid might just be the winner. Hee hee... <3</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP1q3dxr-Oa3YjC7ECoSkxSknwjhJP9gwUt38FRx_df-DmUEHY2jC5HkN22ztBk9rjVTip9A7GMZWDlKKVPCqRUx9XRB-zz29jlAyGdp4Vz-22w7-zrau_OwCd6EAVSVRYVsDdJDrd_vL/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+047.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP1q3dxr-Oa3YjC7ECoSkxSknwjhJP9gwUt38FRx_df-DmUEHY2jC5HkN22ztBk9rjVTip9A7GMZWDlKKVPCqRUx9XRB-zz29jlAyGdp4Vz-22w7-zrau_OwCd6EAVSVRYVsDdJDrd_vL/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+047.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Anyway, we went in the monastery but the monks were off duty and so no hauntingly beautiful Gregorian chants filled the walls as they had eight years ago when I visited. Instead, there were official looking people in suits, children dressed up and holding white roses and bunches of cameras crews. Sam guessed that it was some sort of funeral, but as we waited and watched, the Firenze Football Team bus pulled up and all of the soccer players got out and climbed the stairs to the Monastery!!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoTtTQEgnUgM73fSf7hvupLM06n2_5LrqI350nHrPvE4iiw_Zmvlt_-TgzShbvOo3NV-6ENpKOwVBplNLh5fBysPy8MJQCyUvwYJClcY2WziwoFR0xPwIXxG3W9uSeCfs9OFAZ-YPkrPb/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+065.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoTtTQEgnUgM73fSf7hvupLM06n2_5LrqI350nHrPvE4iiw_Zmvlt_-TgzShbvOo3NV-6ENpKOwVBplNLh5fBysPy8MJQCyUvwYJClcY2WziwoFR0xPwIXxG3W9uSeCfs9OFAZ-YPkrPb/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+065.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">It was pretty darn sweet seeing the entire Firenze team dressed in their little purple uniforms walking right past us!! ^_^ Later, we found out that the team was up there to announce their official team for the year and had picked that spot to announce it, as it was one of the most gorgeous places in the whole city for a photo-op! SO worth the hike/climb!!!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">On our way back to the bus we hit a leather market and the public bathrooms (which, thought they cost one euro, Sam remarked that they were “surprisingly clean!”). The ride back was spent snoozing, and by the time we were back to the ship, we were both uber happy to be back. Haha.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocQ_X0h9v44w7IP9Pa1ZEBgFMNMEwKkwsdXIc605DeYyZVB2OMJiapVy4D2NtPlHE8FC9cn3BU6hj9S7gaNp22I_ASRtmv-dTU_cp_QTTrB3zy77l783GYjKY0g7JZD7pWVWDIv8_EerJ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+043.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocQ_X0h9v44w7IP9Pa1ZEBgFMNMEwKkwsdXIc605DeYyZVB2OMJiapVy4D2NtPlHE8FC9cn3BU6hj9S7gaNp22I_ASRtmv-dTU_cp_QTTrB3zy77l783GYjKY0g7JZD7pWVWDIv8_EerJ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+043.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">When we got to our hotel, Sam went over all the pics with Grandma while I showered. Sam got a room delivery pizza and parked in front of the TV while Grandma and I went out to eat at one of the fancy/included restaurants on board. YUMMY.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Upon returning to my room, I was left alone while G and S went off in search of a candy store. Well – not alone. “Captain Morgan,” the guy from India in charge of our section of rooms on the ship, was in our room to clean it for the night. Usually, the man is super sweet and friendly and helpful. He's all smiles and always telling you, “You're CRUSING – let me get that for you / grab that for you / do that for you.” It makes a girl feel like royalty – that's for sure. But tonight's tune was a wee bit different: Captain Morgan started to flirt with me. Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww... Buzz kill on the whole “feeling like royalty” thing, guys. I swear – Hooters made me used to this whole thing, but for real. Like the guy said: I'M CRUSING. Sheesh. >_<</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Upon G's return to the room, it was decided that it was casino night and we went and played a little blackjack for a good hour or so. :) Oh, blackjack! Yay!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I got pretty excited to go to my first Burlesque show after falling in love with “Burlesque” the movie, but these girls looked like they'd just learned their routine an hour or two before they went on stage. :-/ Makes me want to learn Burlesque... hmmm... maybe I'll add that to my list for this year off?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Tomorrow is Rome, followed by hoping for a place in the ship's version of “Dancing with the Stars” tomorrow night!! EEK! ^_^</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">XOXO</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jet-set Cupcake</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-81467858116534311922011-08-01T04:16:00.000-07:002011-08-07T03:00:53.113-07:00Day 64: Sea DayI awoke to a hushed room and the door to the balcony open. There, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, a mini, warm chocolate croissant and a glass of chilled orange juicy awaited me. As I sat outside, gazing at the sunny, sparkling sea I felt as if it were a scene from one of the uber chic and glamorous Sex and the City movies - way surreal. Damn.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZ_ke4lE-U_VzKvifasBZXlPzwkaejexbtA8VjF_nUqJne8-xWRGZ6LZnnXPrYKU2uwAx-XNPuBQWpFR1PY4BZJwY5MTv8po4zMBA30EShG7h_X8SvuyzwwNDq0GtVe_D5oa6gMjbmtzq/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZ_ke4lE-U_VzKvifasBZXlPzwkaejexbtA8VjF_nUqJne8-xWRGZ6LZnnXPrYKU2uwAx-XNPuBQWpFR1PY4BZJwY5MTv8po4zMBA30EShG7h_X8SvuyzwwNDq0GtVe_D5oa6gMjbmtzq/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+017.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4gsfSLyaZgR1qL-ug0kftDbnGq34Ei6RdeYGCi9akp4-BF9Y6rZ1kofRSZfBsOWKxbe8Od9mZCVybOrSTRzRSHBtfVdXx-QtZXecPLNP5epQSDM_NJWnJnbWIvaTAAe3OR5M5eMncp4qL/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+018.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4gsfSLyaZgR1qL-ug0kftDbnGq34Ei6RdeYGCi9akp4-BF9Y6rZ1kofRSZfBsOWKxbe8Od9mZCVybOrSTRzRSHBtfVdXx-QtZXecPLNP5epQSDM_NJWnJnbWIvaTAAe3OR5M5eMncp4qL/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+018.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">*later*</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">GREETINGS FROM THE WESTERN SHORES OF CORSICA!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I spent my afternoon sunbathing on the top deck. ← Way to be a cruise ship BUM. Hell yes!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3c9JkkByBNBQoirqhff7csqtKQw2HEVVNzChT_r3Xuk3hPlNnhbdF6Yoq20Xxx87mLphlqyuosJyyYMs1-gdZ-aR0Cl4rlHMtoNoPNMQydj7rQJQz0LjRrr-aph1967KEDGfwLeAQp_qL/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+019.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3c9JkkByBNBQoirqhff7csqtKQw2HEVVNzChT_r3Xuk3hPlNnhbdF6Yoq20Xxx87mLphlqyuosJyyYMs1-gdZ-aR0Cl4rlHMtoNoPNMQydj7rQJQz0LjRrr-aph1967KEDGfwLeAQp_qL/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It was pretty crowded, as I got up there around 2 pm, so finding an open chair was a little bit tricky. As soon as I found one on the side of the ship I wanted (half of the ship is a little windy and half is just blissfully sunny), I asked the guy next to it if anybody were using it. He sorta stared at me funny and I went to ask him in Spanish, but he nodded and said I could use it. ← Insert strange sideways look here.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I laid out my towel, took off my cover up and plugged into my iPod. Every moment I would show signs of life, Boy Next to Me would take the opportunity to talk to me. I quickly found out Boy Next to Me was actually Baby Boy Next to Me 'cause he was only 17 and going into 12<sup>th</sup> grade – AWW. <b>Giggle!</b><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Anyway, Baby Boy brought me a fruit plate while we were out there sunbathing and his family came by a few times to check up on him – haha. You should have seen the look on his father's face when he noticed his son was speaking to a real girl in a bikini. ← If only I actually looked 22, his father probably woulda peed his little swim trunks.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">After I left Baby Boy, I met Grandma at the pool bar for a Strawberry Daquiri and they went off to the water slides. Sunbathing Part II resulted in a bit of a burn around the edges (reapplying sunscreen – oopsies, I totally forgot about that small detail)... crispy girl! When they returned from their aquatic journey, it was time for a Banana Daquiri. Grandma whispered something to Sam and Sam, with a perplexed look on his face, walked over to me and asked if I'd like a fruit plate. ← Haha – Clever. Very clever.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">A trip to the arcade later (Sam and I won 105 tickets playing “Deal or no Deal” - hell yeah) and we were back to the room for a shower and House M.D. Currently, </span>Sam and I are watching a Nickelodeon show, “Ni hao, Kai Lan” and they just sang a song: “Even when you're mad. Hitting is always bad. Use your words!” The Koala wanted the panda plate but the hippo took it, so the Koala had to learn to use his words and tell the hippo how he felt. It was dorky. But it was surprisingly a useful thing to teach just about everyone. Perhaps people don't hit much past the age of 5 (I hope), but you could sing, “Even when you're mad. 'You phrases' are always bad. Use your words!” ;) ← By the end of the show, Sam and I were singing and clapping to the song and Grandma was laughing at us.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Grandma is off exploring the ship and Sam and I are watching Dora the Explorer (haha – oh jeeze – SAM PLEASE CHANGE THE CHANNEL... oh we're good … watching Victorious in Spanish). We're meet'n up for drinks then dinner at Taste (the “contemporary cuisine” restaurant that we went to last night and is ridiculously yummy!! Last night? Garlic Parmesan polenta cake with tomato basil sauce to start and baked salmon with creamy penne pasta. Yummmy! AND we had a waiter who was from Brazil so I got to order in Portuguese! Success!! It's one of the restaurants “included” on the cruise so you can just keep ordering super tasty food and they can't do anything about it. Hello hella appetizers!). Mmmmm!!! <-- Woohoo!</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-52535382295513906802011-08-01T00:54:00.000-07:002011-08-01T04:18:32.575-07:00Day 63: Choo-chooing away<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4gsfSLyaZgR1qL-ug0kftDbnGq34Ei6RdeYGCi9akp4-BF9Y6rZ1kofRSZfBsOWKxbe8Od9mZCVybOrSTRzRSHBtfVdXx-QtZXecPLNP5epQSDM_NJWnJnbWIvaTAAe3OR5M5eMncp4qL/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+018.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> <br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The day of the cruise was subconsciously written in my mental calendar as the first day of the end of my “Surreal Summer Journey” in Spain. As we choo-chooed away from Madrid (the place that has grown to become the only place I feel right calling “home”), this little reminder alarm went off in my mind as I began journaling, which triggered a chain reaction that ended in my eyes filling with tears and my nose with goop.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That's right – I was that one cool girl on the train looking like a Hot Mess with her greasy hair, glasses, short-shorts and... a fresh pool of tears and snot collecting around the corners of her face. >_< Classy.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've been surprisingly zen this whole time, but for just an hour or two, the Enlightenment setting shut off and I was left with the truth in front of me that at some point I'm going to have to leave Spain and my family and school and – worst of all – L. And this is where the “losing my shit” began:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First, I put a song on repeat and sang over and over and over:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I've got a tight grip on reality</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">but I can't let go of what's in front of me here.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I know you're leaving in the morning</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">when you wake up;</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">leave me with some kind of proof</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">it's not a dream.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Next, I started journaling. I wrote about the first night when she took me to the highest hill overlooking the lights of Madrid late at night, looked at me with a smirk trying to mask her anxiety and said, “So you get all this AND a summer fling, too, hey?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Muffin.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I wanted to bop her on the nose and scream and shout that I could never be a “fling” girl and not to underestimate me, but instead I remained silent and squeezed her, smiling and taking what she'd said as a challenge.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And then I wrote the sentence that sent me over the edge and made the flood gates open:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“... if after all this she ever dared use that word to describe it, I would cry and run away more hurt than I could possibly explain in words.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Cue Grandma looking at me full of concern and hunting in her purse for a fresh pack of mini kleenexes and handing them to me telling me, “Just keep the whole pack.” Ha.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I know I came here on official business; I came to immerse myself in Spanish, to finish up my degree, to learn about Spanish art and literature and business, to enrich my cultural knowledge, etc. etc. etc. But let's be real: In my world I'm dedicated to traveling all over and learning foreign languages and immersing myself in new cultures with the one tiny hope of spreading sanguinity and love and gaining a little bit of growth the process. And the thought that I could have failed in my sole life mission on this journey made me so upset.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">L has single-handedly made the past few months everything that they were; she walked me ALL over Madrid, showed me things my own host family had never heard of, let me practically become a half-time resident of Torrejon, make me all sorts of strange (but, yes, yummy) meals, help me study whenever I had a big test, just laze around and be a cabbage with me and most of all made me feel great about being who I am. Had I not met her, I'm sure a part of me would be saying, “Okaaaay – when do we get to go back to America? It's been great, but I'm ready for a little CPK, Moxie time, West Coast Swing – anything and everything that I love!” But instead I'm sitting on a cruise ship taking an hour to blog about everything I've been feeling and having very limited desire to see my country again for awhile if it means I can't see her for a year.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Don't think I'm complaining though – feeling upset to leave is way better than feeling eager to leave – it means I've succeeded. ;)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Even though she's always saying little things to make me doubt myself, they make me much more sure of who I am. She and her seemingly serendipitous presence in my life have taught more than I even realize. And because of that, I'm happy here. I'm happy with who I am here. And so I can feel it's coming – that I have to leave for awhile because I learned what I was supposed to and have to go apply it before I can come back here. I'm okay with that. I welcome challenge. But this is a big one. How can I take what I've learned here and take it backwards into my past? Is that even possible?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've begun to understand the virtue of letting go and accepting that the only life you need any amount of control over is your own – others have their own path and have come to this little earth equipped for exactly what they needed for their journey and only by being there and supporting that crazy little journey can you come close to guaranteeing your place in their world. Controlling others to keep them close is counter-intuitive; control only acts as a self-defeating defense mechanism that only pushes others away. I would do this all the time, not understanding – I mean, I knew this on some level, but never internalized it. I hope the new perspective I got on it all stays with me, because boy am I going to need it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've also begun to understand that by automatically assuming 98% of people are pre-programed to dislike me, I act unlikeable from the get-go. At the beginning of the summer, I still had a little bit of Hooters Girl in me, so things weren't quite as bad – but as the summer went on and Hooters Girl me faded, I reverted back to this default thought-process. I'm not entirely sure how to change this – the logic is so circular that I'm not sure where to break the chain!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At some point I'm going to find myself in Denver and I'm going to be in Moxie on my way to my Ledge and I'm going to say to myself, “Well, now what, Chels?”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Let's not be fake here – I'm not too fearful of this huge Unknown placed in front of me as of Aug. 19<sup>th</sup>. In fact, I'm pretty confident that it will be a whirlwind of a few weeks in which I find a new “home,” a new job, new friends and another new “life.” Conor's been leaving me enough pennies in funny places for me to know this. What I am fearful of is: What can I possibly do to make my next “life” as amazing as this one? Will I be able to keep parts of this one in my next one? What's the point of being a world traveler if you have to leave everybody you've grown to adore behind and start over each time practically from scratch? Does this have to be the case?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Sometimes feeling a little sad and scared makes me feel like I'm going in the right direction but that I'm allowed a break from all the crazy optimism to re-center myself. If I never felt sad nor scared, I wouldn't feel as grateful and happy as I often do. Cruises are to recharge yourself and I definitely need a hot minute to recharge! Phew – great timing.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><br />
*(cover later)*<br />
Pick up G and S<br />
Crazy train ride<br />
Barcelona<br />
Cruise Ship<br />
Explore - food<br />
Alone time<br />
Arcade/basketball<br />
Dinner<br />
HottubJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-23610294586749525062011-08-01T00:52:00.001-07:002011-08-10T03:25:49.762-07:00Day 62: Cabbaging and Retiro (five minutes too late) <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After having so much fun with my familia last night and not arriving at L's until late late late with all my luggage, it was a Saturday to do some serious sleeping in, followed by some serious hot summer afternoon, scantily-clad cabbaging on the couch with good 'ol Spanish gossip magazines and MTV. Ah... bliss! <3</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It wasn't until 5 pm that we found ourselves dressed, primped (yeah – L let me CURL her HAIR today – omg SCANDAL... she looked adorable!!) and out the door. >_< Sam and G had also taken the day to recoup and conquer their jet-lag once and for all and take a little stroll around their neighborhood. :) When we finally met up, we grabbed a little lunch, bought a huge baguette of bread, took some cute pictures near Puerta Alcala...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFfwSi83DlREdgLh6xTQQJhZepwQWv6hQ79we_ESZ_kld6S7zsZC0MUurP3FD9uE6CMzMUWMzz6grFLw5Exd1_My8bBR1hiKJqUbyVqCb-_QRyvXvMljXxbcPDhYybDXJS3-PaKKAZViL2/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFfwSi83DlREdgLh6xTQQJhZepwQWv6hQ79we_ESZ_kld6S7zsZC0MUurP3FD9uE6CMzMUWMzz6grFLw5Exd1_My8bBR1hiKJqUbyVqCb-_QRyvXvMljXxbcPDhYybDXJS3-PaKKAZViL2/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+128.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">... and headed for Retiro to feed the ferocious ducks, giant-sized fish, teeny tiny turtles and ditzy black swans.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Really, all I wanted to do was go on the boats in the mini-lake in the middle of the park, but we'd arrived a few minutes too late (and stopped to take pictures with SpongeBob. Damn Esponja Bob... it was all HIS fault) and were the first ones in line to be told there would be no more boat rides for the day. :( L and G seemed relieved, while Sam and I stopped off, upset. Haha.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5MB1kClpSuXIW0XmtOuJvLXD_1VhTWDUGIHipYi3gvGflxPfh50lQFCPfhLdEsPZUtyaij6YtBx6qwXc8hNoccXiOhpmX6-wxvNoTp4j6ksqNdL2Ds0647CekD53wqMIvDsyTTTCxT1B2/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+130.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5MB1kClpSuXIW0XmtOuJvLXD_1VhTWDUGIHipYi3gvGflxPfh50lQFCPfhLdEsPZUtyaij6YtBx6qwXc8hNoccXiOhpmX6-wxvNoTp4j6ksqNdL2Ds0647CekD53wqMIvDsyTTTCxT1B2/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+130.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Feeding the crazy pond animals did truly make up for the boat disappointment, though! I'd thought a whole baguette was going to be WAY too much, but it was so much fun hitting the ditzy swans on the head and watching the Ducks that Meant Business competing with the terrifyingly large fish that we used the whole thing up in no time! Sam really got into the whole thing, as you can see (LOL):</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhocIhiRpXAbmGHyb8JHOlNgtRZfkiYmCcLdJ0_ix0K1cCH9jUmA-ghGkhmk5Abh4MeA2bhTQmmCI5Os7UMsIrBLRZs4zQKLBk8XXsWd0DN11OqoJTWzkp5KYmuqRAtbUOnK5WDVTBrjrQT/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+142.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhocIhiRpXAbmGHyb8JHOlNgtRZfkiYmCcLdJ0_ix0K1cCH9jUmA-ghGkhmk5Abh4MeA2bhTQmmCI5Os7UMsIrBLRZs4zQKLBk8XXsWd0DN11OqoJTWzkp5KYmuqRAtbUOnK5WDVTBrjrQT/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+142.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"> We strolled around the park a bit, taking pictures and enjoying the evening. Retiro is really quite relaxing in the midst of the Madrid heat, because it seems much cooler around all of the trees and lakes. *mmm...*</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8pbqyc9McUlE0LoGjVkdQuRos8aMVbl1RtuRrKK9lNul-WmCo36b6hg91gauCwm-sL6zSNkTOEqC9PaQsPiWpLI1wTWjGmttQTCmt8VrwcgsniGINeZ2haJaOdkVuGhg8Rmz5WpNZ12X/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+140.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFETZ_TTEd69oSPUlXcjSrlRXl3ZuWLFJkbXRNnnDR7cinT2mkr4Yyq23CJ7XePUiEdaH3QzoyoWM4AqwXL21iKXPVQXD8k7YkQJwY5aHSZKOyRWgIUCfwNET87pjFokUQNHlzBkH0fn5O/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+147.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFETZ_TTEd69oSPUlXcjSrlRXl3ZuWLFJkbXRNnnDR7cinT2mkr4Yyq23CJ7XePUiEdaH3QzoyoWM4AqwXL21iKXPVQXD8k7YkQJwY5aHSZKOyRWgIUCfwNET87pjFokUQNHlzBkH0fn5O/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+147.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There were some good pictures from the day, but my favorite one had to have been this one - I have absolutely NO idea what was going on, but there are just so many captions one could write for it... hahaha!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYjPaiAkPapAX-ow36pLh2MU3YPmUM9VpbZa_jyQAj5IlxLjEQi4j4Hhew_rzwI3xMIv9gCEh6vcYMeCSY8Xgy3kARuvHiYzr2sYKdTdscSzCQuttRnOsYLQbjK1jlmMdDpOPahmMZbQa/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+149.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYjPaiAkPapAX-ow36pLh2MU3YPmUM9VpbZa_jyQAj5IlxLjEQi4j4Hhew_rzwI3xMIv9gCEh6vcYMeCSY8Xgy3kARuvHiYzr2sYKdTdscSzCQuttRnOsYLQbjK1jlmMdDpOPahmMZbQa/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+149.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">During our stroll, Sam and I found a crazy hole in a tree and I taught him how to raptor walk on the site of the First Raptor Walk in Spain. ;)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8pbqyc9McUlE0LoGjVkdQuRos8aMVbl1RtuRrKK9lNul-WmCo36b6hg91gauCwm-sL6zSNkTOEqC9PaQsPiWpLI1wTWjGmttQTCmt8VrwcgsniGINeZ2haJaOdkVuGhg8Rmz5WpNZ12X/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+140.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8pbqyc9McUlE0LoGjVkdQuRos8aMVbl1RtuRrKK9lNul-WmCo36b6hg91gauCwm-sL6zSNkTOEqC9PaQsPiWpLI1wTWjGmttQTCmt8VrwcgsniGINeZ2haJaOdkVuGhg8Rmz5WpNZ12X/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+140.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_68ZeoRt8vr13slRBY6wAI2k1-j5hoM8Rzv96bOkKi524QcKDOfOewPCJQ5mK3dwR5MQTBJ3DtfEaaZTDTjaLZ3H4CnI1CA-_iD6hTKhFuotHkc1YkTwkf8qL2jc49qD7IuPNadwO0tuX/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+153.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_68ZeoRt8vr13slRBY6wAI2k1-j5hoM8Rzv96bOkKi524QcKDOfOewPCJQ5mK3dwR5MQTBJ3DtfEaaZTDTjaLZ3H4CnI1CA-_iD6hTKhFuotHkc1YkTwkf8qL2jc49qD7IuPNadwO0tuX/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+153.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_68ZeoRt8vr13slRBY6wAI2k1-j5hoM8Rzv96bOkKi524QcKDOfOewPCJQ5mK3dwR5MQTBJ3DtfEaaZTDTjaLZ3H4CnI1CA-_iD6hTKhFuotHkc1YkTwkf8qL2jc49qD7IuPNadwO0tuX/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+153.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYjPaiAkPapAX-ow36pLh2MU3YPmUM9VpbZa_jyQAj5IlxLjEQi4j4Hhew_rzwI3xMIv9gCEh6vcYMeCSY8Xgy3kARuvHiYzr2sYKdTdscSzCQuttRnOsYLQbjK1jlmMdDpOPahmMZbQa/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+149.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Soon enough the sun began to set...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEQ3pBFEZLckDM0E7OmCwXvAgNyu2d_yuora1yJ-xEEcGEVVaWHL-xNfEl6K0wdu3L4b6NAp1KZFrQ1Mx7jsDcmRCjPW-mgmdNCyJxvFiZ7hjelC53LI95-g4aS3jUGyi9XIRmX4T_fG1j/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+159.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEQ3pBFEZLckDM0E7OmCwXvAgNyu2d_yuora1yJ-xEEcGEVVaWHL-xNfEl6K0wdu3L4b6NAp1KZFrQ1Mx7jsDcmRCjPW-mgmdNCyJxvFiZ7hjelC53LI95-g4aS3jUGyi9XIRmX4T_fG1j/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+159.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">... and we headed back to their hotel to make hotel reservations for their last night in Madrid after the cruise and L and I headed home, making it back before 3:30 am for a change! :) For being such a short day of exploration, it sure was a hoot!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">XOXO</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jet-set Cupcake</div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-38054037362138414422011-08-01T00:51:00.001-07:002011-10-15T14:17:08.825-07:00Day 61: Dinner with Family & Familia<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">I woke up early to accompany L into Madrid and walk her to work. I'd never been in the city so early in the morning and the hustle and bustle was adorable to watch. After dropping an overjoyed L at work (well, overjoyed in L terms - which meant a little happier than usual because she was surprised I walked her all the way to work instead of just stopping a few blocks before at Grandma and Sam's hotel), I went over to wake up the jet-lagged duo and get them caffeinated up with some much needed Starbucks.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I'd made no real plan for the day - I just intended to show them around my city in a leisurely fashion, walking from here to there without a real destination, in order to allow them to take in the sites Madrid had to offer. So when they were all dressed and (sort of) awake, we started off down the street at a bar for chocolate croissants and hot chocolate - both of which were quickly rejected by Sam who said the croissant "tasted funny" and the milk in his hot chocolate had "gross skin on top."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">>_<<br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">I love the boy and know I was just the same way if not worse when I was his age... but jeesh. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">We spent the morning wandering from their hotel near San Bernardo down to Tribunal, Grand Via and, eventually, ended up at Callao. All the way we were sure to use our fans, as it was as hot as ever and Sam was excited to use his new purchase and do his part to fit in with Spanish culture. :)<br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg609PY_DSUQemMlH8VT95CNVnb7D2qkcJg9Pz3LLwa5ETpMF_3LidVKns0_cSizTvY4YmtrS_glPB7V-QmFB97l2ws4ElGDGrjXcAkI3UMYxqYHtRnN5x2hS2WsZotfE6ajZ6DD09glVvH/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+102.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg609PY_DSUQemMlH8VT95CNVnb7D2qkcJg9Pz3LLwa5ETpMF_3LidVKns0_cSizTvY4YmtrS_glPB7V-QmFB97l2ws4ElGDGrjXcAkI3UMYxqYHtRnN5x2hS2WsZotfE6ajZ6DD09glVvH/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+102.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
Sam fell in love with the store, Tiger. Think mini IKEA for random home/office/etc. trinkets. He went through the whole store twice before deciding on purchasing either a clapper fly swatter or a survival guide complete all-in-one tool. Much to our eventual chagrin, he picked the fly swatter, and for the rest of the day, neither Grandma nor myself could think straight with all those, "BOOM!" "SNAP!" "SHWAP!" noises following us and penetrating our poor ear canals!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I'd thought that a stroll would be just the perfect thing for somebody who'd just arrived the day before - after all, it'd be exactly what I would want to do - but as it turned out, it wasn't so much what either of them seemed to consider a good time. They didn't seem too terribly interested in the historic architecture nor in the culture nor in the what's-what of Spanish shopping. Minus Tiger and the largest candy shop in Spain which Sam fell in love with for their extra sour gumballs individually packaged and advertised as, "Camel Balls," I'd seemed to have failed to sufficiently entertain the pair, and so I called in the reinforcements: L.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Within seconds of answering the phone, L had directed us to the nearest metro station to meet her for her lunch break at a cute but chic pizzeria near her office and their hotel. She could see the disappointment and frustration on my face when she met us at San Bernardo and giggled.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlxvj6q900OIL9pKUyiqWpCahivVqLvSMq-S2UplYW5eRwFVF1eyo-INgmRR3-jY3UYUtW0Hg2BUTx8hQ_Xh-E0GX-xV0AR9WevVIpU2Q3-u1GYFkfT3Y9pFEJ3xMwA17KeqwdbWDshTz/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+104.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlxvj6q900OIL9pKUyiqWpCahivVqLvSMq-S2UplYW5eRwFVF1eyo-INgmRR3-jY3UYUtW0Hg2BUTx8hQ_Xh-E0GX-xV0AR9WevVIpU2Q3-u1GYFkfT3Y9pFEJ3xMwA17KeqwdbWDshTz/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+104.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
She was always the one that had to be the tour guide and always complained about how difficult it was. I'd never believed her, but then I'd felt that I was one of the easier people to guide in a new city as everything interested and excited me to some extent. A nice pizza break was just what I needed to recharge and get excited for what was in store later that night.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">A full belly and a mini siesta back at the hotel room later, and we were out the door and on our way to Alcala!!! I txted my madre and padre from the train to let them know we were coming (as they had volunteered to pick us all up from the train station so that we didn't have to bus it there) but that I wanted to show them around real quick before we met up for dinner. My txt (though in Spanish, of course) read something like, "My family and I are coming..."<br />
<br />
I didn't receive a response for a moment, but when I did, I giggled so loud even Sam looked at me funny. My padre had responded with something (also in Spainsh) along the lines of, "Oh! I see how it is! And here I thought we were your family... I guess you don't love us anymore..."<br />
<br />
^_^ Hahahahahaha... oh, madre mia! <3<br />
<br />
A few minutes into our walk from the train station to Plaza de Cervantes, I caught a glimpse of my familia in the square, waiting for us with a big, giant camera I didn't even know they had! My madre and padre were so excited to see me after my two day absence from their lives (hee hee) that they grabbed me and hugged and kissed me on both cheeks! Then they introduced themselves to Grandma and Sam, making sure to be gentle about the kisses and not kissing Sam at all, as I had instructed them not to ("... the boy just isn't that touchy/feely... try to kiss him on the cheek and you'll freak him out bad!"), much to my madre's concern ("but all children should be canoodled... but then again, we're over-the-top maternal here in Spain").<br />
<br />
We walked over to my university together, to show Grandma and Sam, before heading across the street for tapas. *I absolutely adored this photo that was taken on my university's steps with Sam and mi madre!! <3*</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmfXtQi68eVAVTQjFWSfnjQggf28GdjKgCi5M53xoHwWW2maw4htgVWFGJ273L-uoPFw34jPk5ollQGRxQSamn4fmLlREmFIrFdR-O8414M0eLeWg3wGPNfufiKzmIvxd_ICMI_sWDD3a/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmfXtQi68eVAVTQjFWSfnjQggf28GdjKgCi5M53xoHwWW2maw4htgVWFGJ273L-uoPFw34jPk5ollQGRxQSamn4fmLlREmFIrFdR-O8414M0eLeWg3wGPNfufiKzmIvxd_ICMI_sWDD3a/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+112.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">Going out to tapas with my family and my familia was a hoot. Plain and simple. My padre ordered our round of drinks and was surprised when I asked for a tinto de verano. "But I thought you didn't drink?!" he asked, my madre looking on with an equal expression of confusion. "You never drink at home?" I explained to them that in my CIEE contract I'd signed, I'd agreed to never drink alcohol - especially at home - and that I could be kicked out of the program for doing so. The epiphany hit both of my padres at the same time as they exclaimed, "So THAT'S why no student has ever taken us up on our offer to drink wine with dinner!" Hahaha.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Our time spent at the tapas bar was divided in me translating between my familia and my family and me just wanting to use up all the time talking with them in Spanish. Naughty me... ha. My familia told my family a little about the tapas bar we were at and how it'd been a part of their family tradition for a long time, while my family mostly just smiled and waited for me to translate.<br />
<br />
And that's pretty much how the night went. My familia seemed overjoyed. My family seemed a little weirded out. And as for myself? I was happy as a clam. Having somebody else there who I knew didn't speak Spanish made me feel like I could speak Spanish a million times better than ever and so, accordingly, I spoke Spanish with an enthusiasm and vigor never before experienced. Thank goodness Maria was there when we got home so that she could translate, too, and also talk to Grandma and Sam in English while I continued chatting up a storm with my padres in Spanish!<br />
<br />
After presenting my familia with their presents from America (cupcake mix/frosting and a sweet little frame that said "FAMILY" on it with a picture of all of us - which they quickly displayed on the principle cabinet in the living room!), it was time to eat... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tonight's dinner was the feast I'd been waiting for quite some time. My familia had left the menu for the night completely up to me. For Sam, I told my madre all he'd probably eat would be bread and some plain pasta - and by plain, I meant a little drop of butter and nothing more. She quickly called me into the kitchen when we arrived home with Sam to make his pasta just the way he wanted it. Aww! As for the menu for the rest of us, I'd decided upon (with some help and suggestions from my madre):</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1) Gazpacho (with cucumber and apple garnish - YUMMY)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2) Salad (mixed greens with nothing but olive oil, vinegar and a little salt)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3) Fresh baguette (as per what is served with every meal ever at my casa) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3) Empanada (the tomato-tuna one that I loved so so so so so much from a local bakery... the one that my madre would get for me before one of our CIEE weekend trips when we were supposed to have our families pack us a lunch and dinner which - for everybody but me - always consisted of bocadillos (sandwiches) and copious amounts of fruit... bus rides consisted of everybody being jealous of my delicious meal and I loved it!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dessert was a sweet little fruit tart they'd purchased at the bakery just for the occasion... yummmy!!! When my padres asked if we'd like any tea, we were all just about to graciously decline (despite my love for their inufusiones), when Sam piped up with one of his first comments of the evening: "SURE!" His excitement caught all of us off guard and we giggled. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After dinner was through, my grandma took some photos of me with my familia...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing4_Wk_yjYBDdHQdEWoOfgxYWaEzZqfLwPXry92GOAlt8ThiXObH3ljdMj29mRwfXLVlhI99PXLKAYkjjnpqyJxwROZ40aH-Fod9yQxYY_Oe7e5PvTSgOFiEx_QZyYlUwsXRAVkaGB7TM/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+041.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing4_Wk_yjYBDdHQdEWoOfgxYWaEzZqfLwPXry92GOAlt8ThiXObH3ljdMj29mRwfXLVlhI99PXLKAYkjjnpqyJxwROZ40aH-Fod9yQxYY_Oe7e5PvTSgOFiEx_QZyYlUwsXRAVkaGB7TM/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+041.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
... and then it was time to drive them back to their hotel in downtown Madrid and me (with all my suitcases) to L's. The drive through downtown Madrid late at night with all the lights illuminating the gorgeous buildings was absolutely breathtaking. I'd never seen Madrid by car and fell even further in love with the city. It somehow felt like a chic little scene out of Sex & the City... but perhaps just to me. Grandma seemed wiped out from the day and from the time zone switch while Sam snored away in the backseat between us. After a mini car tour of downtown, we dropped off my family at their hotel and drove back towards home, to drop me at L's.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how anybody else felt about tonight - language barrier and all,- but for me, it was absolutely perfect. <3<br />
<br />
XOXO<br />
Jet-set CupcakeJet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-37022359231762313562011-07-31T10:34:00.001-07:002011-08-10T03:07:14.768-07:00Day 60: Churros, my last day of college and the arrival of G and Sam!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZXiM2NNx_W-Q_XcjJzn1dkRBYGRpQE5Agl6L-bjAII7ZQEcQEmIoa1wRS0dZiTzsa9tAnr1SY_aP_PQfwjYGJ5y_fXhO9wADQPixOpdfQBiLFV6CjWlvWrbZG6Kxt7lVZPZJ6ECZCBTv/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">If I'm not online by 8 am, I receive a friendly little wake-up call from my favorite Romanian. I then click, “ignore” and peel myself out of bed and over to Kiwi to get my computer time in for the morning before getting the bus at 8:38 am. So when L called me this morning at 7:15, I figured it was an unusually early wake-up call, and clicked “ignore” and continued snoozing. So when she called a second time, I made myself answer.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Hello sleepyhead! Somebody here wants to say 'Good Morning' to you!”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I waited for a voice and next thing I knew, Sam was greeting me!!! ^_^ OMG!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was so excited Grandma and Sam were actually in Spain and that Larisa had picked them up so early (6:40 am – damn) that there was no way I could go back to sleep, even though I had been up late worrying a bit about my finals. So I showered. ^_^</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Just as I was drying myself off, Jesus knocked on the door to tell me he'd woken up early and gone and got me a bag full of churros and a cupful of dipping chocolate!! Cruz came over and told me to hurry and get dressed so I could enjoy them! When I told them both that Grandma and Sam were here, they both became very excited. :)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZXiM2NNx_W-Q_XcjJzn1dkRBYGRpQE5Agl6L-bjAII7ZQEcQEmIoa1wRS0dZiTzsa9tAnr1SY_aP_PQfwjYGJ5y_fXhO9wADQPixOpdfQBiLFV6CjWlvWrbZG6Kxt7lVZPZJ6ECZCBTv/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+007.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZXiM2NNx_W-Q_XcjJzn1dkRBYGRpQE5Agl6L-bjAII7ZQEcQEmIoa1wRS0dZiTzsa9tAnr1SY_aP_PQfwjYGJ5y_fXhO9wADQPixOpdfQBiLFV6CjWlvWrbZG6Kxt7lVZPZJ6ECZCBTv/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+007.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6GtasQabQMZwskBA2GJIAUD3W7AoGeCf57X77P5MtbeNpxLP7ijwFosaOwTiXryTinexwuedN3ywk2imKZ7xLRcFohAilLe5uwGRsvCdwlu092kM9BBP2x_vUHCVTxeKWRwB_h5ebfmv/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+001.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6GtasQabQMZwskBA2GJIAUD3W7AoGeCf57X77P5MtbeNpxLP7ijwFosaOwTiXryTinexwuedN3ywk2imKZ7xLRcFohAilLe5uwGRsvCdwlu092kM9BBP2x_vUHCVTxeKWRwB_h5ebfmv/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+001.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">While I was eating my churros (YUMMY!) my madre asked me when my bus left for school, 'cause she was comin' with me!! Aww – she took me to school the first day, and was taking me to school the last day! ^_^ Cute! She had to go to the CIEE office to drop of her student evaluation (I wonder what it is families write in those evaluations and what the purpose is? It's not like I could call Cristina up and ask her to fax it over to submit to my new landlord? Nor can she submit it to my school to say I could never study abroad again because my family wrote a bad evaluation...?), and while she was in the office, got to meet “Angel” Dave!! Hee hee hee! </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">(Later I'd ask her what she thought of him and she remarked that he was VERY attractive – LOL.)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I went into my Spanish Business test having studied for a grand total of 7 minutes (and that's a bit of a hyperbole) and just started filling in answers. Where they all right? Probably not. But sometimes I believe confidence is key – lol. Taking an hour with a test that takes ten minutes to fill out is not going to guarentee you a better score if you just simply don't know some of the answers, so let's just not waste everybody's time pretending, kthnxbai.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Getting done with the test so quickly allowed me time to explore Alcala for a good few hours! I went to the store on Calle Mayor that has Muppets, but of course they only muppet they DIDN'T have was Kermit (wtf?)... so I journeyed on and stopped in Cervante's house to take a quick tour (something I'd been meaning to do since the first day of school!). It was fairly small and completely restored so it didn't even almost feel like a house from half a milenium ago... but I felt complete having lived in Alcala for so long and finally visited it! When I was done, I went to sit on the bench with Don Quijote and Sancho to begin studying for Ernesto's test, but quickly realized I was markerless!! HOW could I take an Ernesto test without many, many colors?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7fp_bjsmA4fAuz2YNGDbfa2clyXt_wN0Rdq4Y7vC8gilv-ATLh2oiZN1ayJpvqkgc-ZRzsnzWRsfwDqGfk6PgkbPB_kcQgKzO_VIq4KQllo_EPOgQ_qjeAbKcftdSdb81v8cItVFs9Pc/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+025.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7fp_bjsmA4fAuz2YNGDbfa2clyXt_wN0Rdq4Y7vC8gilv-ATLh2oiZN1ayJpvqkgc-ZRzsnzWRsfwDqGfk6PgkbPB_kcQgKzO_VIq4KQllo_EPOgQ_qjeAbKcftdSdb81v8cItVFs9Pc/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+025.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> I'd lent my markers to Megan for her hobby horse project and totally forgotten to get them back from her (and, at this point, I'd forgotten I'd even lent them to her, so I just simply had no idea where they were, period.)... so I did the only rational thing I could think of – went on a mission to Folder, the nicest papeleria in town, to buy more!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Copious amounts of colorful markers secured, it was study time in the courtyard garden on campus. I tried to focus, but between knowing that was the last time I'd be in that beautiful place and the ants that were going up my shorts and biting me in inappropriate places, it was all for naught. Before I knew it, it was noon and I packed up my literature packet and pouch of markers and hoped Ernesto had been serious when he'd promised us the day before that this test would be embarrassingly easy!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And it was. (Thanks, Ernesto!!)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I answered every question in a different colored marker, drew three fancy top hats and a nice big Kermit the Frog on the back page before turning it in, assuring Ernesto that I'd be in Madrid for another few weeks and that we'd see each other before I left for the US, and ran out of the classroom and down the stairs doing a jig, singing to myself, “I'm done with college! I'm done with college!! Tra lala! Tra lala!” until</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>*KERPLOP*</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I got so into my song and dance that I missed a stop and</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">toppled</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> down</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> the stairs!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> >_<</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> FAIL.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I sat there for a moment on the ground, a little stunned by my clumsiness and wondering if L hadn't rubbed off on me a little too much. People passed by and I just looked up and smiled at them, as if I were supposed to be sprawled on the floor for some academic reason, all the while grateful as could be that Ernesto hadn't seen it go down (I prefer to believe I come across as a fairly put-together individual around the man, and this surely would have given it away – lol).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When I finally got my butt off the floor I was once again doing my jig, bounding out the door and making a beeline for the RENFE train station to go into Madrid – 'cause after all, Grandma and Sam were WAITNG for me there!!!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First stop? KFC for hot wings for L. :) Strangest guilty pleasure I've ever heard of, but after waking up at 5 to go to the airport to pick my family up from the airport and take them to their hotel, it seemed like the perfect mini “thank you” lunch I could think of considering my time crunch! I met her at the park near her work to trade hot wings, Aquarius (it's like Gatorade) and a cute little chocolate tart from the market tied up in strings for stories about Grandma and Sam's arrival that morning! ^_^</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Before I knew it we were knocking on their hotel room door and there they were! Right in front of me, in Spain!! ^_^ L hung out for a little while with us while G and Sam slowly roused themselves from the jet-lagged slumber. After she had to go back to work, the three of us went to Atocha to buy train tickets to Barcelona (I got them in Spanish. It was a huge WIN for me, but a huge annoyance to G who demanded the woman repeat everything that had just gone down before turning over her credit card.), to McDonald's for a quick snack and then Starbucks for free internet to book the hotel in Barcelona for the two nights we'd spend there after the cruise.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">L met up with us again at that point...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyKvmI7bVqFI5_DjyB6zLuZ5T0OxK_72sUCaf_-y2Bq2162O3jDghTzOIJMPVZ4XAVU52z09l4Bo1vXNw_TvK14Wm8fKsrZnbmqDMrhe4pbCZ4Y2QhpaUGU91mrAeiTXH_PeJ3rh5qMCQ/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+079.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyKvmI7bVqFI5_DjyB6zLuZ5T0OxK_72sUCaf_-y2Bq2162O3jDghTzOIJMPVZ4XAVU52z09l4Bo1vXNw_TvK14Wm8fKsrZnbmqDMrhe4pbCZ4Y2QhpaUGU91mrAeiTXH_PeJ3rh5qMCQ/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+079.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">... and we took G and Sam on a mini walking tour of central Madrid from Atocha to Sol (Sam was on a mission to buy a Spanish fan, as he saw everybody using them and was roasting in the Madrid heat) to Opera to the Royal Palace (where he was mesmerized by a man making huge bubbles on the street for money) to a stop in a garden for little flowers... </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiVFWxcgEPMjorH9YUK6Ux4iNtC7f5Q899nuZVTGUY1c32q8L-OpR2a3xwgsucfmnuP0aATnmdQ0oiYqcOAFkDI_E8nmzAb4tYP9gJ2HCwuMdaRjTGuC6Tsg0Eion230-pYq4-cT4nhdU/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+093.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiVFWxcgEPMjorH9YUK6Ux4iNtC7f5Q899nuZVTGUY1c32q8L-OpR2a3xwgsucfmnuP0aATnmdQ0oiYqcOAFkDI_E8nmzAb4tYP9gJ2HCwuMdaRjTGuC6Tsg0Eion230-pYq4-cT4nhdU/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+093.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">...to Templo de Debod to a hole in the wall place for a light Spanish dinner and back to their hotel to drop them off for the night. :)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0emgk0JfzsFcVxeRLKn7L6kYtAEHg2VBa6CmWnDuNU_sw7BlgIXgJ3zEMBXi3xcNvKnOCbodT7cAKZ62w-3wB6oNOnAs7k9CAKdb8nkjs4505xWPHQfBsR-oDOAuKROfNcLUChpzpUi9A/s1600/Spain%2521%2521%2521+030.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0emgk0JfzsFcVxeRLKn7L6kYtAEHg2VBa6CmWnDuNU_sw7BlgIXgJ3zEMBXi3xcNvKnOCbodT7cAKZ62w-3wB6oNOnAs7k9CAKdb8nkjs4505xWPHQfBsR-oDOAuKROfNcLUChpzpUi9A/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+030.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It was quite the whirlwind of a day and left me ridiculously pooped by the time the night bus dropped us off at home around 3 am. >_< DAMN!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">XOXO</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jet-set Cupcake</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1409912907450225851.post-307292233354885862011-07-27T09:39:00.000-07:002011-07-27T16:05:55.608-07:00Day 59: La Rana Gustavo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To say I was stressed this morning would be a ridiculous understatement. I had meant to finish my Desigual paper last night, but skyped my mom, dad and Brazilian instead. I had meant to work on my Desigual presentation, but as it turns out, my compy doesn't have Powerpoint. I meant to get to school plenty early to finish all of this, but my internet card wouldn't work and I wasted fifteen minutes yelling at it before I finally changed computers and it magically worked. I was nervous during my presentation and spent class time worrying about all the things I forgot to write in my essay. By the time class was done, I was so on edge that all I could think to do was to go on a serious stroll in search of pastries. Even chocolate croissant and pina juice man wasn't there (nor was the nepolitana chocolate)... and that's when I really lost my shit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So when I found a store called, "Mas que galletas" ("More than cookies") with a little lady carefully decorating a batch of freshly baked cut out cookies with her two year old son and a case full of cupcakes and cheesecakes and torts, I decided Ernesto's class could deal with me arriving a little late in the name of my pastry addiction being the only thing that could quell my nerves.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Wrong-o, bong-o.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I did my best to duck into class more than five minutes late, but seeing as I sit in the first seat of the first row, that didn't so much work out. I was so embarrassed that I was showing up late to the last official day of my beloved Ernesto's class that I sunk down in my chair and altogether avoided glancing in his general direction lest me catch my gaze and glare at me for my rudeness. I was certain I'd go down in his book as that "one girl who'd come to class epically late and fall asleep during break so soundly that she often appeared dead and every once in awhile didn't even wake up in time when break was over." GREAT. Just what I wanted: the first professor I've had in forever whom I actually respect and adore thinking I'm just another American dolt.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So when I finally glanced up, I was completely unprepared for what I saw.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There Ernesto was, pacing back and forth in front of us, wearing his usual jeans, red pumas and a black shirt... with a humongous, almost 3-D seeming Kermit the Frog on it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqtgoLDBSZ6i1F8qPeZB5ihhGKVbGoeSURWnTLrfM15vJkWhk_EjKXGYRjgc6mMMJ8BO6G9twdVos8Kp03AMyVK0gOK563EtCPe0IlsOcKPAvd7SyB8vEW2MLJyP1oPEE-EMXNI2jhuTm/s320/Spain%2521%2521%2521+001.JPG" width="240" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I did a double take and then began giggling. I couldn't help it. This man was too good (and too clever) to be true.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ernesto maintained his composure, going on and on about uh... I'm not sure what (how could I pay attention at a time like this?!) despite hearing my sudden onslaught of giggles and when he glanced in my direction, I was sure he was going to give me a warning look, as if to say, "please stop interrupting my uber important lecture on something you're not even grasping right now with your silly giggles," but instead he cracked a tiny, almost undetectable smile and winked at me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(For any of you who are not following and understanding just how AWESOME this whole thing truly was, please refer to my blog post <a href="http://jetsetcupcake.blogspot.com/2011/06/day-30-hey-dove-deodorant-valiant.html">Day 30.</a>)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I realize Ernesto and I exchanged blog addresses sometime back in June. I realize we are Facebook friends. But it never dawned on me that somebody with as much importance as Ernesto would ever take the time to actually READ my blog. "Oh, shit!" was all I could think; my blog is my place to tell it like it is, and I let my praise for the man and his classes fly freely. Perhaps had I known there was even a small chance he's read any of it, I would have tried to come across a little less exuberant and enthused about the whole thing. Damn.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At break time he came up to me smiling and proclaimed, "See? I told you you'd laugh." (Indeed, he even had posted it on my Facebook wall earlier today!) Oh, Ernesto. The fact that the second half of the class dealt with a play about the meaning of death and the idea that death is merely a continuation of life (and the fact that he may or may not have had me and my incessant comments and complaints about the narrow mindedness of Spain's creative class with respect to death in mind when picking this piece as the final "obra" we learned in the course) was mere frosting (funfetti, of course) on the cake.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After class I made sure to get an epic picture of the Kermit shirt and then made a mad dash for it. Generally, Ernesto and I talk a little bit after class about what we'd just gone over, but despite the fact that today was the last day we could do that, I was too taken aback by the whole thing to know what to say. Nobody tops my creativity and tenacity. Certainly not a professor. But Ernesto proved to be the most worthy of contenders! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I exited the room, I heard somebody ask about his shirt, and Ernesto smiled and replied something along the lines of "It's a secret message."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's an extremely rare moment when I feel like somebody just... "gets it." It's an even rarer moment when I feel like somebody just... gets who I am. My Spanish wasn't always the greatest, sometimes I'd be epically late for class, other times I'd pass out on the desk, consuming my ten minute break. Not all of my comments were profound and every once in awhile I'd decide doodling a million tiny animals was more important than taking notes for a certain poem. But despite all of this, I feel as though Ernesto saw the exact me that I aspire to be -- that intelligent, intellectual, existential, creative, unique, tenacious, sanguine, sarcastic, greatful girl I'm working on bringing closer to the surface.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At times I literally felt like he could SEE that part of me and it challenged me to expand her role in my everyday life and practice being who I want to be. For Ernesto's class to be the very last class of my college career is more perfect than I could have ever planned. Yeah - I learned a lot about poetry and modern literature; a lot about my fascination with the Eastern view of death; a lot about how many stereotypes of American students aren't so much stereotypes as unfortunate truths... but more than all of this I learned that there are people who somehow are able to recognize me for who I really am (or at least am practicing on being) and are willing to do crazy and silly things to make me know this to be the truth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If I were to create a list of the top three people who have changed who I am and how I see myself and life while I've been here in Spain, Ernesto would without a doubt be on this list. With so much packing to do and obsessively tracking Grandma and Sam's flight (they're over the ocean now!!), I am unable to express my true gratitude for this, but when I have time, be sure the thank you letter will write itself (preferably in poetry, but prose will most likely win out).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">XOXO</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jet-set Cupcake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Jet-set Cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13094888918837643441noreply@blogger.com0