Appropriate

Is it appropriate to insist on bringing all my 3 inch heels when moving to a city where I will be walking at least a mile to get anywhere...

Is it appropriate to insist on bringing my favorite smoothie straw...that just so happens to be covered in red penises - thank you bachelorette party!

Is it appropriate to bring baking utensils and mixing bowls when my kitchen doesn't even have an oven...yet...

Is it appropriate to bring my favorite over-sized, long sleeve, t-shirt - stolen from my high school boyfriend?

Regardless... it's all happening.  What's "appropriate" anyway?

"The only thing you need to get a date...is another date."

I don't know how many times I have heard that the grocery store is a great place to meet someone.  You can tell a lot about someone by what's in their cart:

- Fruit, Veggies, whole grain cereal - Yes, please!

- Double stuffed Oreos,  a case of Bud Light, and a case of frozen Hungry Man Meals - NO, thank you!

Part of the screening process can easily be done with a quick scan of the eyes.  This picking someone up at the market was always a mystery to me.  It had never happened.  And it always seemed awkward.  How do you start a conversation and not look like a total creeper?

Well, it happened. 

I was perusing the olive oil section.  Reading the back of the "imported" oils to see where they are really from.  For the record, most imported oils are bottled in Tampa, FL - really.

So as I am reading this very nice looking gentleman starts looking at the oil too.  He so cleverly asks me, "is there something that you are reading that I should know before making my oil selection?" See, not a creeper at all.  I go on to explain my thesis regarding oil production and bottling.  How most Italian oils are made with Spanish olives, and how I should know this because I just got back from Spain.

The conversation continues with how he loves Spain.  I throw in that I better love it too because I am moving there. (All a part of my conversation plan)  Why are you moving he asks.  I so eloquently and concisely tell the story of meeting my love.  I mean, we wouldn't want this seemingly nice young man to try to get my phone number.  I was trying to spare the awkward, "actually, I am seeing somebody" comment - which let's face it - in most of these instances is usually a lie.

All in all a nice interaction with a nice person.  There still is such a thing as human kindness.  And I know I better soak up all of these American niceties while I can.

So this all goes to show... the only thing you need to get a date... is another date.  Thank you Carrie Bradshaw.

Home Again, Home Again

I am back home on this side of the pond.  As I write that I am thinking the "this side" comment will soon not say anything about my actual location.

I am at my home on the west side.  West side of the Atlantic.  East side of the U.S.

For simplicity let's use the Atlantic as the middle of the universe.  Florida = west side.  Madrid = east side.  Agree?  Agree.

Crunch time.  1.5 weeks to move out of my condo. Donate and give away all of my worldly possessions.
Begin the process of obtaining a residence visa for Spain.  I hope the Spanish Consulate agrees that I will be an asset to their country.

Breathe in - Breathe out - One step at a time - Know that it will all work out - Remember why I'm choosing this choice...

and when all else fails find serenity remembering this...

this...

and this...

This is my life - Part 2

How do you work this microwave / convection oven / whatever this damn kitchen appliance is?

It´s hot - It´s freakin HOT! Where is the central air? And why doesn't anyone run the AC that they have?

No sardines... means NO sardines.

When I smile, say hello, goodbye, thank you, whatever... it´s nice to be acknowledged.

Customer Service. Anyone? Anyone??

Life will be easier when I am fluent in this language. Shop owners and restaurant managers beware!

This is my Life.

First cooking experience in the kitchen. Calabaza squash. After a few grunts, groans, and choice words, it was a success.

This is my life.

As I looked at him on the train I realized ... I am the happiest and most content I have ever been.

My mom is probably right. Home will now be wherever we at together. This is my life.

Boy Scouts Honor

I've been traveling with a cheap pair of ear plugs for over 3 years. I believe they were purchased for my trip to Kenya. Preparation for whatever animal might keep me awake - not that anything could mute the morning rooster, and not that ear plugs help whatsoever with stifling heat.

The ear plugs remained unused...until this Friday. It was just your average weekend festival. Crappy Barcelona bands (the spaniards words) - opening act - 1 a.m.

I almost lost my mind.

My NY training schedule dictated a 10 mile run on Saturday. Knowing this had to be accomplished on a treadmill already had me teetering on the edge.

Thank God for the remembrance of the ear plugs.

Always be prepared. Boy Scouts honor.


10 miles of roof tops :)


10 miles of success!

... or so they say.

They say the best way to see a city is to walk it. Well, I have seen Barcelona. From the Park Güell at the top of the city to the vegan gelato shop tucked away in the Gótico district. Again, the universe smiles :)

This city is full of history. All 3000 years worth. History that I could never remember or repeat. It's a good thing I've had the most handsome guide. He somehow knows the history of everything. Every building, monument, architect and cathedral - every war, battle and landmark event.

His knowledge of spanish history is enough to impress even the most astute history buff. But he knows just as much about every other country spanning the globe, from Spain to the United States. The long way... through Asia.

































So the best way to see a city really is to walk it ... or so they say.