VIP

ok, yes, i know what VIP stands for... but making up acronyms is so much more fun.

i feel like our whole trip we've been vip in one way or another.

thursday night we had another bad cabman experience. this one not only knew where nothing in the city was, but he also did not speak. just shook his head repeatedly. we ended up at one of the many chupitos, which always makes for a good start to the night. lots of fire, shots, and british men later, we headed to otto zutz... upon entering we were escorted up to the VIP area to enjoy dancing withouth 4701239321 people sweating on top of you as well as free rum and cokes.

the night was fun. hiphop instead of techno made us feel at home and all the spanish people made us feel like badasses. we stayed out and danced the whole night.

friday was sitges, our daytrip. we went to cordoniu, the oldest champagnery (don't know if that's the right word or not... if you know what is good for you.) in europe. it was insanely big. as in 125 million bottles of 'cava' big. we rode this little mrtoadswildride-esque train through tons of dark cellar hallways. it was so fun. then we sampled the cava and the cava man used me to demonstrate how to hold the glass... which was challenging.

sitges was charming- a little beach town with lots of character. it wasn't warm enough for the beach so we just walked around and explored and took lots of pictures. i really need to find a place to develop my film.

last night we went to razzamatazz... which always makes me laugh because i think of that snl skit... you know the one.
razzamatazz was huge. and crazy. and i tried to find the exit and was invited to the vip level. and then i came home. and ate a sandwich.

living is a hostel is fun because we always wake up with new random foreign neighbors.

hostage situation.

so.

wednesday was the biggest day of merce, the celebration that was going on here pretty much all last week. we spent the day walking around the city, seeing outdoor concerts and parades and eating gelato. there were people everywhere and it was so exciting. at 10pm we all went to placa espanya, right in front of the palace to see the fountain show and fireworks...

let me just say that i love fireworks. this 4th of july i didn't get to see any. i saw dave matthews, but no fireworks. wednesday night more than made up for it... the fireworks and fountain show and music and atmosphere was all so amazing. i posted a video... watch it. it was awesome.

obviously there were a million people out there. we managed to meet up with some friends and head to the next closest metro stop... which, of course was insanely crowded. and, considering my luck had been going well and my life was almost back in order... we were about at our stop and i reached into my verysafelittlebagthatsitsrightatmyhipboneandisvirtuallyunrobbable to find my phone... which suddenly was missing. MIA. no phone. anywhere.

instantly i was like, this is not happening. there is just no way this is happening. if it was stolen, my camera and all of my money was still there... and how would someone have reached in there without me knowing? anyway was mad. and confused. i took the subway back to the station we were at and looked around... nothing. finally i met back up with my friends and tried calling my phone about a hundred times. finally, all of a sudden someone answered. someone named miguel. someone who better watch his back because he has accumulated so much bad karma i wouldn't be surprised if he spontaneously combusted like right now.

miguel so charmingly asked my name, and then oye amor, how old are you? and from there told me if i wanted my phone back i had to come alone to his apartment and drink whiskey with him.

hostage. who the hell holds a phone hostage?

i gathered an army of friends, with a few strong boys, and we were prepared to meet him somewhere... and of course miguel stopped answering my phone all together.

so, i stopped my service. and once again i am phoneless until monday. however, i am also whiskeyandkidnapped-less as well, so things aren't all that bad i guess.

i<3IBZ.

ibizaibizaibiza.

so that's where i was last weekend... which, i suppose, lends to part of the reason why i haven't updated my blog in a while. the ibiza recovery/pullyourlifebacktogether/whatthehellhappened took a while.

but now i'm here. and ibiza was incredible... even wilder than the travel channel makes it out to be. when we first for there our cab driver from the the airport was seriously crazy. he had no idea how to get anywhere and insisted on asking every tourist on the street if they knew where "SOUL BEAIAY" is... it was an adventure.

the first night we went to pacha, the oldest club in europe... which was wild. they had this insane dj and these storm troopers that shot out sparks and snowy stuff and all out craziness. after the dj we found a floor with just random american music... think mr. jones and me to frank sinatra to hip hop to anything that would keep you there dancing all night until 6am. then we went to the beach and watched the sunrise on the beach and had a big hotel breakfast. and then slept.

it took me and my roomies 4 hours by bus to get back to our hotel. an angel at the farmacia saved me with some antibacterial eyedrops and turned all of our luck around. when we got back we tried to relax by the pool, but about 30 middle-age pale british men tried their best to prevent us from doing so.

friday night we had a dinner date. quite a dinner date. we met ricardo on the plane... or, kelsey did rather. she has such a skill for meeting people, anywhere. so friday night we met ricardo and 10 of his friends at a small outdoor restaurant, tucked away down a dirt road and right next to the sea. it was so so pretty. we had caiprinhas and lots of wine and fresh seafood.

ricardo had his personal taxi then take us to privelege, then biggest club in the world. literally. it was insane. we danced around until 6am when we called our taximan and he took us to the airport. i still don't know how we managed to board our plane, land in barcelona, catch the bus and then the subway and walk home and all finally get in bed. craziness.

i<3ibz.

annnnnnd i am late. we are going out. i will have to update this later.

<3.

kerouac

wc williams described jack kerouac's writing as "an enclosure of all that might have been made articulate, felt, tasted, witnessed, and confessed as actual to one's own life, for better or worst, at last."

i read this in the introduction of kerouac's Book of Blues while on the metro yesterday and it captured me, because i feel like that's exactly what this trip, this city is like. in a word, irrepressible.
And i crave it.

i feel so alive here. just sitting, writing, feeling the night breeze, it fills me. i am overwhelmed by this liberating independence. it's incredible.

ole.

yo no soy marinero, soy capitan

this weekend was so lovely.

i finally had time to really explore the city i'm living in. friday we rented bikes and biked up the coast a ways, and found some incredible parks. they have the coolest things to play on, like little tiles that make musical sounds and big silver bowls that spin you around. it was so fun; we played and made little spanish friends.

after that we had one of those long, outdoor, spanish dinners with wine and conversation and all good things. we ate for over 2 hours. and then just walked around the city and took it in. went up to the palace which overlooked the entire city. heard some spanish guitar. it is so so pretty here. especially around the gothic quarter. i just love it.

saturday was easy. it was just an easy saturday. the kind where you make a big brunch and have mimosas and all of a sudden it's 4pm and you're still eating eggs and playing games. (ummm, champagne is on the list.)

after our long brunch a longer walk to la parc guell, a park by guadi... incredible. gorgeous views. amazing architecture.

on the walk back we got some dark chocolate and a basil plant, a great addition to our apartment. in honor of it we made caprese salad for lunch today.

yesterday we went on a mediterranean dinner cruise. it was so so pretty. wine and a saxophone player and blue water. of course i asked to drive the boat. of course they let me. yo no soy marinero soy capitan, soy capitan, soy capitannnn.

i just love it here. tonight is the mexican fiesta and all the taquitos and margaritas that come with it. ole.

visca catalonia!

i have been craving songs. physically craving. i don't know why really, maybe it's for something familiar. maybe it's for something substantial i don't know. but right now it's holiday in spain, inevitably. i could listen to it all day.

so yesterday was catalonia day. catalonia is the region of spain where i reside (whoa. someone in my apartment area is def singing opera. pavarati. ole.) and they want to be independent of spain. the day was filled with festivities and excitement and red and yellow striped flags. red and yellow striped flags that we bought for 11 euros. red and yellow striped flags that we bought for 11 euros and then made into dresses. and wore them out last night. and catalonia went wild.

on our way from the cab (we now have a personal cab driver. thanks to our dresses. and our american charm.) to our friends' house, which was about a 5 minute walk, we were stopped 4 times because people wanted to have their picture taken with us. we were such celebrities. que bueno.

we went and saw dj tiesto last night. it was insane. seriously insane. he played from 3am to 5am insane.

i love being on hold with bank of america when all i want to do is buy a bike and explore the city.

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ay de mi.

there has been an internet drought in my flat (i know i'm not in london. i'm still saying flat. and rubbish bin. deal with it.) and my blog was suffering.

so here i am. sharing a baguette with kelsey who just got back from the open-air market at las ramblas. and she did not buy me my bunny. my bunnito. my by bunnito negro. dammit.

i'm sitting at the table beside our balcony, which, if you need a visual i'll help you out. you know that matisse painting with the big open balcony doors? the really pretty one? yeah. well it's kind of like that. except a little less colorful. and the view is of another apartment building. our neighbor is a tuba player so we are constantly hearing tuba scales. and we're above some sort of daycare and therefore enjoy hurling apples and the chiquititos during recess.

oooh, i joined meetups.com! (thanks linds). i am meetingup with some meetup buddies! i was so very tempted to join the "Barcelonabuzz internet professionals group" or the "barcelona inline skating" group, i settled for a cultural events group for starters. i'm thinking of making my own meetup. like, maybe... people who like to do handstands. i mean we could meet anywhere it would be awesome. oooh or perhaps a laundry group. people could get together and do my laundry for me. or an i like to pick leaves group. because i like to pick leaves. your thoughts?

the nightlife here is still delicioso. deliciosisimo. we went to a crazy club last night called shoko. i finally got to meet the infamous "kike" (pronounced keekay). he's this guy who facebooks everyone and invites people to whatever is going down that night. it's really kind of funny. you can like text him anytime and there are always messages that are like "yo whatup it's your boy kike. opium bar is hot tonight." yadda yadda. he gave us these Elite Barcelona bands to wear because we are so elite. i haven't taken it off yet. anyway, so we met him. free drinks. dancing in the dj booth. muy elite.

ok i should probably shower. we went to the beach after class and the mediterranean is very salty. i am like a big salty monster. with wild hair.

saturday- a day to pull your life together.

i am being proactive about my situation. after about 7 failed attempts to get the money my dad wired me and the cell phone that is waiting for me, i've decided today it's all going to work out. the cell phone place isn't opened, but i'll get that money dammit. or a small spanish child i can hold for ransom.

chupititititos are dangerous. last night we went to a shot bar, el gato negro, where they have probably about 300 different types of shots. livia and i started with one called creepshow, which instantly got us off on the right foot. the best one was called boyscout. they make a little fire on the bar, hand you a stick with a marshmallow to roast, then you dip the mallow in your shot, eat it, and take the shot. it was pretty crazy.

the beach yesterday was beautiful and just what i needed. just to relax a while and take in the numerous spanish boobies and men in speedos. haha. no really though it was great.

ok. that is all for now. i just finished my chicken salad sandwich. it's gorgeous outside. i am washing my face, putting on my bathing suit and freshly-mended jorts, grabbing my camera and getting everything i need and finding some money. and then going to the beach.

bah.

oh, and i ripped my jorts. they're going to need some serious mending.

ok.

ok.

they are icecream and ham fiends here. there are icecream bars everywhere. i mean all over the place. and eva longoria is posed sexily eating icecream on all the ads, and i know she doesn't eat icecream.

the ham is even more rampant. ham everywhere. in madrid i passed "el museo de jamon"... the ham museum. a museum of ham. imagine yourself there. really.

so my bag is gone, but things are getting better. i mean, at least it wasn't a damn scooter thief.

we left toledo yesterday morning. i loved toledo. it was a super old city with a wall around it and narrow little curvy streets to get lost on. the last night we were there all of ISA invaded this old monastery-turned-club which was ridiculous. lots of tequila and dancing.

no one here has dryers. we have to put our clothes on and run around real fast.

<3.

helado, jamon, y mala suerte

i'm in barcelona.

i'm in barcelona and i'm in my apartment with my roomates. our very, well, cozy apartment.

drinking red wine.

last night my pink hobo clutch was stolen. as in, my pink hobo clutch, my driver's license, my hokie p, my credit cards, my debit cards, my cell phone, a copy of my passport, the keys to my apartment, and a goodbye note from robby.

OH, and. i left ted in toledo.

i really hope my mala suerte ends here.

and so i'm drinking red wine and taking deep breaths and reminding myself that pink leather is terrible at hiding dirt.