kurt vonnegut, jr.

i'm a huge vonnegut fan. he's raw, he's neurotic, he tells it like it is....[the boy version of me? no, i shant be that ostentatious.] he died a little less than a year ago [11 April 2007.] but not without leaving a few masterpieces behind.

the first vonnegut book i read was "cat's cradle". as i finished the book of bokonon, [so it was], i was hooked. i haven't read every one of his books, but i've been crossing them off my list ever since. i read "cat's cradle" in 2004. the beginning of 2004. last weekend i decided to re-explore the book that enchanted me so. so, i reread it. hmm. it was ok. no, it was better than ok, but it wasn't the same. ohhh why oh why wasn't it the same?

is this an analogy of real life? maybe. or maybe, unlike a fine wine, some books peak the first time you read them. anyway, i don't give a damn if "cat's cradle" wasn't as good the second time around. i plan on giving it another shot in 2012. [letting it age on the shelf for 4 more years sounds like a good idea.] also, on that note, i plan on re-exploring 2 other of my favorite vonnegut books this week ["galapogos" and "the sirens of titan".] i want them to be just as good as they were the first time [another analogy of real life?], but i'm not keeping my hopes up.

when the sun goes down in gracia.

a collection of photos.

nice [france] was nice.

i recently celebrated my 1 year anniversary with barcelona. as far as i'm concerned barcelona and i have a great relationship...i am madly in love, i admit it. who knew i could love a city so much. who knew that a city could love you back? who knew that you could become dependent on the smell of panaderías [bakeries], the feel of city bustle, the taste of tortilla bocadillos [omelette sandwiches], or the sight of small dogs and smoke rings following you everywhere you go. i am getting all mushy.

one of my dear friends, kate [a londoner by birth, a wanderer by choice], made a quick move to niza [nice], france a few weeks ago. i tend to do things in haste, so as i drank a bottle of vino tinto i bought tickets to visit her for the weekend [last weekend]. i was accompanied by a few friends: brie, michelle and terri. [listing things in alphabetical order is the only way to list things]

nice was niiiiiiice. the french riveria. just saying "the french riveria" sounds sexy, and oh my did it live up to my expectations. we wined and dined and spent the weekend as old friends do. that's what life here does to you, to me, to everyone...you feel older, wiser, stronger, smarter, closer, and more open to new people and new things. [in this case alphabetical order was unnecessary] and, who knew, it was carnival that weekend as well.

here are a few snapshots...








and, since we were so close, we took a day trip to monaco...

[above: the monte carlo casino]

hello 2008

i went back to florida for a few weeks for christmas & new years. it was so nice to be back in the motherland. the weather was divine...and the air, like an old friend, welcomed me as i exited the airport. i love florida air, i love southern air. i just like the fact that we have blessed laws that prohibit us from smoking in restaurants. being back in barca i can already feel the black lung kicking in.

i really enjoyed my time with my friends & family...but i was excited to get back to spain...back to my freedom, back to my who's its & what's its, back to the land of small coffee's & large beers.

it's 2008 and i almost feel like i have nothing to show for it. i have a bachelor's in journalism, a job in journalism, a job in event planning, and a job teaching english. [geez, only an american would sum up their life in terms of how accredited their resume appears.] i wish i had a gold medal from some olympic event, or a hit song, or a nice piece of property.

2008 seems like a year from the science-fiction-version of the future. why aren't we wearing space suits & reading each other's minds? i swear if we get a 6th sense it will be telepathy, and if not i'll be pissed.

i'm looking forward to 2008...i don't know what the hell i'm doing or where i'm going, but hopefully it'll lead me somewhere nice.

god bless america.

wow, so thanksgiving has come and gone.

i've felt more patriotic in the last week than i think i have in my entire life. i spent the majority of my 20+ teaching-hours talking about the relationship between the pilgrims and the indians ["what the hell is a pilgrim?" my students would say], explaining why turkey is better than ham, exaggerating about our 3-day feasts and drawing maps of america over & over again to show them where the pilgrims landed in comparison to where the great state of florida lays.

"is everything really expensive in america?" my younger students ask. sometimes i actually give the question real thought, and other times i just say "well, milk is like 4 dollars" & they gasp.

what is it that i love so much about teaching my students about america? i swear they're probably scouting my arms & legs for an american flag tattoo. they probably think my dad works for bush and that i hate mexicans.

this thanksgiving was the first time [i think] that i didn't spend it at my family's farm. i called them in between my classes and they passed the phone around, "we miss you" they said, "it's not the same without you", "don't tell me you're eating olives today darlin'" my uncle lee said with his thick southern drawl. i almost felt like i was there, i could imagine it perfectly. but i settled for a delicious pasta dinner with my favorite american friends here in barca, and [ironically enough] we were able to catch "the new world" on t.v. [a horrible interpretation of john smith, pocohantas, etc.]

on saturday my friends and i went all out. we wanted to celebrate right, and since we all had to work on the "given" holiday, we put together a rather ambitious party a few days later. we were all scrambling around all week trying to find corn meal, cranberries and other "mystical" ingredients that spain has never heard of.

when the day came there was so much food....it was...well...glutton-looking. when our spanish friends arrived i was almost embarrassed, shrugging my shoulders like "well, shit, this is why america overeats." we had a huge stuffed turkey, at least 15 casseroles, candied yams, corn bread, pumpkin pies, apple pies and some weird pecan fruit-cake sent from the US. we drank spiked apple cider, hot buttered rum and lambrusco [spanish dessert wine] for 12+ hours. i [with lambrusco in hand] told the story of thanksgiving to everyone, and we played "pin the tail on the turkey."

my austrailian friend stood up in front of everyone & made a toast, saying "this is my first thanksgiving, and i love the idea of it. and here we all are, living in a foreign place. and i am thankful for that. i am thankful that we all have each other." i think it made us americans feel really good. and really proud. and really thankful as well.

here we are eating, drinking and being merry...

so, this thanksgiving i'm thankful for america [even though i'm not there right now, it's in my bones and it's in my heart.] i'm also thankful for the amazing life that i have made here in barca and the amazing people that i've met. i feel like i've lived another lifetime here in spain, and i wouldn't change it for the world. but america is my number 1. and that'll never change.

catalan? que?

i was mostly unaware of the term "catalan" before i swarmed myself with tourist documentaries on spain. i wanted to have some kind of a clue about the crazy place i was moving [and had never been to before.] that's where i first heard about "catalunya", the northeastern province bordering france...where good ole' barcelona is located. catalan's are from this province.

here's a map of spain...you can see the province on the top right.

and a closer look...

[in the map above, the names are actually written in catalan.] yes, that's right, they have their own language...a melodic combination of spanish, italian and french. this was a fact i knew coming to barcelona, but didn't expect to be so blatant. when francisco franco ruled spain [from 1939-1975], it was illegal to speak catalan. after his death, the "catalan" patriotism was at an all time high, and has been ever since. on the streets they speak catalan, in stores they speak catalan, the billboards, the newspapers [not all, thank God] are in catalan. catalan's are "catalan"...not "spanish".

the other night i was taking a taxi [most taxi drivers speak to you in catalan] & he was speaking in castallano [spanish] and i said "are you catalan?" [hey, it was 5am] & he started raging [in spanish], saying "no, i'm not CATALAN, i'm SPANISH for god's sake...what the hell...f-ing catalan, we're in SPAIN not CATALUNYA." this is a good analogy of how people [spaniards] who aren't catalan feel about catalunya.

in gracia [my neighborhood] the catalan patriotism is always in full force [the catalan flag is 5 yellow stripes and 4 red stripes]:



but i must say, i love the catalan people. it feels good to know that every day i can count on their unfailing admiration for: pork, dark square-rimmed glasses, whiskey with lunch, horizontal striped shirts, magdelenas [the best muffins in the world], taking their babies and their dogs into bars at ungodly hours and their monochromatic dress choice.

mi fin de semana en figueres.

this past weekend my 2 friends [fellow americans] and i took a short train trip up to figueres, a small, humble village, 2 hours northeast of barcelona. like most of the tiny villages that come and go, like a flip-book on the cross-country train, figueres is just another one-horse town. but we weren't there to see the one horse.

Salvador Dalí was born in figueres, which brings a lot of pride to spain, and especially to the catalan people. Dalí was catalan, [most people are unaware of what being "catalan" means...which is something i will approach in my next post.]

so, in figueres, the slender, over-used and over-abused sidewalks busted at the seams with tourists. we were all there for the same reason: to see the famous Dalí Theatre and Museum. it was "molt bé" as the catalan's would say.

some highlights:

interestingly enough [and borderline creepy], Dalí is buried in a tomb beneath the museum...

it was amazing being able to touch, feel and even smell Dalí's presence [i'm talking about the paint...or maybe i don't know what the hell i'm talking about...ha]. i've learned a lot about this man, and have admired his work for years and years and years [i went to his museum in st. petersburg, florida when i was 7 and i remember thinking it'd "changed my life".]

it's funny the different ways that [facets and elements of] spain, and the spanish culture have affected me. needless to say, coming to BFE-figueres was no exception.

tibidabo architecture

i'm currently teaching a college student who's studying at a private university in the mountains of barcelona. three days a week i make my trek up to tibidabo [near the mountain-top] to teach him. my calves and lungs are getting a great work out...and so is my ipod [i think the little bugger is on his last leg, actually.]

if there's one thing i could forever rave about [and forever appreciate] in barcelona, it's the architecture. and these avant-gard houses in tibadabo [almost hidden away, and on a slight slant] are unreal. here's a sample...




grand terraces seem to come standard on almost every home. i wish i could sneak onto [break into?] one and pop a bottle of wine and count the stars, or look at the constellations or something else that i've never in my life taken the time to do.

these terraces would be just perfect...

my last trip to mcdonalds.

so im an idiot. i [against my MUCH better judgement] got mcdonalds for dinner. not because i was craving it, not because i was homesick [which are usually the only reasons which i would ever actually waste my money on that shit....and i've only been there 2x since i've been here...and the first time was just to have it with a beer, because yeah they serve beer at the mcd's here]....anyway, i ONLY got it b/c it's one of the only "para llevar" [to go] places between my house & the train station that takes credit cards....and i didnt have any cash on me.

woah, mistake! not only was the chicken sandwich barely cooked, but the "walk of shame" as i'd like to label it, was horrible. everyone for about 1-2 miles saw me walking with a big mcdonalds bag. so embarrassing. and THEN i get to my flat and rebeca [my flatmate] is showing it to a possible new flatmate [for rebeca and i]....who [i think] is spanish, and really cute...and here i am, the american girl walking in with a flashy mcdonalds bag. classic. so yeah, i'm eating a bowl of cereal right now. i'm too f-ing tired and cold to cook. [tile floors + no heater + cold weather = bad combination]

the day of rest.

sundays are great. they just might be my favorite day. i like the whole "let's not do anything" mentality that many people grasp on this glorious beginning [or ending?] of the week.

this past sunday my friend kate and i decided to keep up this "do nothing" routine, and just bum around town. we went to grab a hearty [and by hearty, i do not mean heart-healthy] breakfast of churros con chocolate at this adorable place in el born...[with the blue doors].


then we hit up this pleasant little organic market to toil over the many meals we hope to cook [thanksgiving is approaching!] and we saw this...


we were laughing hysterically...a package of ham [jamon cocido] with a child on it? it's no secret that the people of spain are head over heels for pork...but this might be a little much.

that night my friends and i had a dinner party. for some reason everything seems like more of a celebration here [even the organic market runs.] dinner consisted of vino tinto [more or less, my mouth is purple from friday night to sunday evening] amazing apple, raisin, onion and tomato salad, baguette with cheese and chocolate bars. yum!

sundays, how i adore thee.

read between the signs.

so i like astrology. it's comforting to know that something [if only the sun, the moon and the planets] knows why we are the way we are. at least on a superficial, general-based plane.

the other day my friend and i were racking our brains trying to remember which astrological signs were in which elements [she's a capricorn, i'm a leo]. after some [much enjoyed] research, i came upon these descriptions, which i found enlightening. of course it can't all be true [there's a little bit of bullshit in everything], but it's worth a second glance. just a little something to think about...

Fire Signs - Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Fire can do good, like cooking food to eat and keeping us warm or it can do great harm, like burning a house down. Fire is a combustible, unpredictable element, a chemical reaction that can go off easily and quickly go from a small flame to a raging fire. Fire astrology signs can ignite easily too, they are very temperamental however if managed properly, they can be very beneficial. In fact, fire signs must be managed and under control in order to be of benefit. Fire signs can be emotionally volatile yet they are very passionate. Fire can change it's course at an instant, those born under fire astrology signs are very dynamic and like the fire spreading, are the first to set out into the unknown and take initiative with adventurous enthusiasm. Fire is not a physical thing, it is quite mystical and fire astrology sign people apprehend the world through their intuition, they trust their gut instinct (or they should anyway) because it rarely ever leads them wrong. Fire people have a strong sense of self just like fire which has no regard over anything in it's path, fire people are quite self centered but they are moving so fast that they never get stuck on themselves, the fire needs to spread and explore. Fire people are impulsive and just like fire spreading, often leap before they look.

Water Signs - Pisces, Cancer, Scorpio

Water can be refreshing, like a cool stream or it can be dark and mysterious like the depths of the ocean. Water that is contained is easy to deal with, like swimming pool, water that is un-contained and out of control can do great damage, like a flood. Water signs represent the intuition and emotional aspects because it flows and it's liquid or it could be solid like ice, it can evaporate into air and turn into clouds. Water is complex and a paradox it is everywhere and can be almost anything. Water signs are the most emotional of all signs, they flow down deep and search out crevasses and cracks to explore, symbolic of the unknown emotions of the human psyche. Not only is water is essential to life and covers the whole globe, but water makes up the largest percentage of all living things. Since water is found in everything everywhere, water sign people have a knack for dealing with others, they can see into other people, they understand the motives and needs of other people and to sum it all up, they are borderline psychic and the most in-tune with others. This makes them empathetic, caring and helpful but they are over sensitive and can be easily hurt by others who do not acknowledge the sacrifices that have been made and how deeply involved they really are.

Earth Signs - Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Earth is real, you can see it, hold it, smell it. Suitably so, earth signs are very "down to earth" and real. Earth is the foundation on which everything is built. Earth people are solid and stable and composed of many different parts, they are multi faceted people, like the many mineral compounds that make the earth. There is nothing wishy-washy about these people, they do not have their head in the clouds, They are dependable, you know they will always be there and they are stable. Most of the time anyway, more stable then the other elements. Earth does not change. It stays there and allows whatever is growing to continue to grow and progress. Earth people are not fond of change, they like stability and regular life that can grow upon and develop. Why start something new if what is already there is fine? Earth people are the most materialistic and possessive of all astrology zodiac elements. Earth people are also concerned with what's on the surface and never really dig deep to get to the bottom of it, they are happy with what's on the surface.

Air Signs - Aquarius, Gemini, Libra

Air is the element that you cannot touch or see, but it can be mysteriously contained, like blowing up a balloon. When it is contained in this way, it somehow escapes or gets stale. Air people are free and cannot be contained or this same thing will happen to them. Air is uncertain and unpredictable, it can spawn a horrendous thunderstorm with violent winds and the pressure drops and raises by the minute. Air sign people are elusive in this way, they are unpredictable and eccentric. Air is the most necessary element, being necessary to fire, earth and water. Air people live in their mind. They are caught up in their thoughts which take them high to new levels where no other element can reach, like the upper atmosphere. Here they can formulate theories, solve problems clearly and see the world below. Air people are said to be out of touch with reality, but they are also very advanced in thinking. They are very mental oriented people having a knack for intelligence but also lacking emotional depth.

eat and run.

i think the saying "eat and run" was developed here in spain. literally, everyday i see people gorging their faces while briskly walking, running or galloping down the street. at first i gawked, or even laughed a little..."is that ham falling out of that mans mouth?" i would think. but now, it appears i have joined the masses to become an "eater and runner."

the other night it was a baguette on my way to class. no, there was no delicious stuffing, no cheese, no meat, not even a condiment. but a dry, crusty baguette is the perfect cure when you're starving and running late. yesterday it was a chocolate filled croissant on my way to the book store. today it was a granny smith apple on my way to the train station. who knows, tomorrow it could be a leg of lamb on my way to the park.

i adore...

...barcelona in autumn.


[above: barcelona is placed ever-so-gently between the mountains and the mediterranean]
[below: city center, placa catalunya]

goin' with the flow.

i find myself feeling less and less foreign as my time here increases. confidence and conviction are slowly replacing the layers of insecurities that i've shed. i've come to introduce myself as "kath-ar-eeene", with a fill-fledged spanish accent...as if a name can't transcend borders. i read "que!" newspaper everyday on the metro. i am [on the average] 15 minutes late to any and everything i attend. yes, the catalan way is rubbing off on me like a virus. soon i will be wearing dark square-rimmed glasses and saying "vale! venga!" at the beginning of every sentence.

i cooked dinner for a catalan friend last night. it was a healthy mix of vegetables and grilled chicken. i introduced it as a "normal american meal", to reiterate [as i so often do] that americans are not [completely] unhealthy slobs. i guess all of my insecurities haven't quite gone.

recently, i've had the same experience about 3 times in the same amount of weeks. men yelling "rubia! rubia! que pasa rubia?" [translated: "blond girl! blond girl! what's happening blond girl?"] at me while they're working; painting flats, building buildings, or emptying the garbage into the garbage trucks. they yelp while flicking the ashes off of their cigarettes. [yes, people here love smoking on the job, in fact i think it's encouraged.] i don't consider myself a blond, so i just ignore them. but it's a friendly reminder that dirty men are everywhere we go.

i capture [the castle].

what is it about love that makes us all complete idiots? i mean that in a charming way, but of course. today i finished a love[ly] book, "i capture the castle" by dodie smith.


it was written in 1948, set in england and it's all about the idiocy [and delights] of love, life and youth. i feel so close to the main character, cassandra, and am sad that the book had to come to an end. i miss her.

you know when that happens? that rush you get from feeling like you really got to know someone...in a book or in real life. and when you do get to know know someone, you reach that point of no return. they are there, forever. and you see the world just ever-so differently.

...i'm going to read 1984 next...i think that might have a different effect on me.

i love food...

i love food, especially southern [soul] food. i love everything from filet mignon to chicken pot pie to green been casserole. i have eaten venison [deer meat, from deer that my dad hunted nonetheless] on numerous occasions. i put honey on my corn bread and tabasco on my oysters. i am from the south and i am damn proud of it.

it took me a while to warm-up to the spanish/catalan cuisine...but now, i'm actually [borderline] fond of it. despite my prior [incorrect] knowledge, the spanish have a certain luster for leaving out key herbs and spices needed to make food edible [their only condiment is olive oil.] words like "spicy" and "delicious" are more often used to describe people than food. needless to say, these days i am having a wonderful love affair with olive oil.

one thing that i do quite fancy here, and has become a staple in my refrigerator, is an indigenous packaged drink. yeah, it sounds gross already. it's called cacaolat.
cacaolat is a pleasant combination of yoohoo [judge me, please] and chocolate milk. it doesn't taste as delicious as it looks, or as bad as it sounds....but i think it's perfect.

the good thing about the below-par options of food is that it's forced me to do more cooking. i find myself day-dreaming up different dishes as i'm walking to work. i wake up looking forward to my daily market runs. i go through garlic like it's my job. [no...i am not solely gorging myself on cacaolat.] but all of the judging i have cast upon the spanish food has helped me to build up a nice little repertoire of personal [and mexican, italian, american, british...from my friends here] recipes.

tonight my friends are coming over [bottles of vino tinto in hand] and we're going to make homemade vegetable soup. yum. we plan on od-ing on herbs and spices.

i'm down for fall.

i've recently hit my 8 month mark in barcelona. que pasa? similar to the cars and motos here, time doesn't seem to slow down for anything.

today is october 1st. i tend to welcome new months with open arms. i like beginnings, they seem to put things into perspective. and there's something especially bittersweet about october...a month that i've always appreciated for it's frankness. there's no religious holiday stuffing it up and there's no cheery facade. i imagine apple cider, close-toed shoes, pumpkin carvings, warm hugs and orange-red-and-yellow sprinkled leaves. e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g is orange, red and yellow as a matter of fact. i dig it. i dig it all.

as the weather, and the people, begin to grow a little colder, there are a few things that i will miss about those warm barcelona months. for example...[beaches, bars and hazy shades of blue]




and, what could've possibly made those summer days more delectable? mediterannean-side tapas, perhaps [if it comes from the sea, i've eaten it.]


well, fall is here, and i am damn happy about it. beginnings add a little skip to my step.

coffee beans, amongst other things.

i came across this picture by oliver ray and fell in love. funny how a simple image can affect the olfactory senses so.


it brings me back to the days when coffee was so much more to me than just a good caffeine buzz. i remember meeting my friend erin at our on-campus cafe....every [and i mean every] other day of our freshman year [yes, the college days]. i remember the vanilla latte that would always grace my pallet, and the cinnamon scone which i so adoringly attempted to substitute as an actual meal. i remember throwing on over-worn baggy t-shirts, sweat pants, flip flops and maybe even lip-gloss, [if my vanity had for some reason stopped me in my tracks before i left my dorm.] i remember the days when our cell-phones would be set on the table, so as not to miss a call from some horny boy that we'd recently met and [apparently] gave a damn about. i remember the days when everything made sense....and the ones that were begrudgingly hit with a complete bouleversement; when we thought the apocalypse was, in fact, approaching. but with my good friend by my side, my reliable cup of coffee in hand, and my loyal cinnamon scone sweetening the conversation....everything was ok. there was a simplicity held inside the walls of that on-campus cafe...childish innocence and childish enthusiasm. two things i hope never to lose.

fast forward 4 years: i graduated with a BA in broadcast journalism. i guess it meant something. shortly after i was interning at a news station in my hometown...which quickly turned into a part-time labor-intensive [but paid!] job.

fast-forward 2 years: i live in barcelona, spain and teach english as a foreign language.

and here i sit in my flat drinking cafe con leche...thousands of miles and minutes away from that young, perpetually optimistic college girl in that on-campus cafe. i'm still just as confused, and just as childishly enthusiastic. it's 6 years later and i find myself in the exact same place. but hell, maybe life wouldn't be as exciting if we had it all figured out.

Summer in the City

Spent the least amount of money that I have in a looong time (for a weekend, and a fun one at that) ...especially since the dollar is losing power (God damnit!). I think the fact that I can get a decent bottle of Catalan wine for under 2euros plays a huge part. And I'm forcing myself to live like a minimalist....lots of fruit & veggies from the market, grilled chicken, baguette and vino tinto...man, just talking about this makes me want a big juicy expensive filet mignon.

Enjoyed a relaxing afternoon basking in the sun down at Barceloneta (tourist haven, which I find funny and disgusting at the same time). My favorite game to play is "Where is that crazy person from?" & 9 times out of 10 I am wrong. But it's still fun to play, even alone, as I laugh to myself and then those crazy people think I'm the crazy one. The Mediterranean was simply amazing, and the buzzing of foreigners and homeless people made for a most delightful walk along the Sea.

The Peruvians I saw last weekend weren't there. They'd been playing Native American music (live) and my sympathy and love for the Native Americans (b/c I'm an American, so by proxy I suppose) made me emotional (or nostalgic for my homeland?) and I bought one of their c-d's. I was a sucker, but that's ok. I don't speak Spanish fluently yet, so I suppose I'm still a tourist. The truth is, not 5 minutes went by...and I thought, "Wait, why did I just waste my money on this? I don't even think I want this." I've only listened to the c-d once, it's not that bad. I guess they caught me at a weak moment.

Am currently involved with "The Drifters" by James A. Michener. As you can see, he rather fancies writing about travel...


"The Drifters" is about a group of hippies/beatnicks traveling through Spain/Morocco...it's full of dreams and drugs and good ole' times. It's set in the late '60s, and I kind of wish I was one of the characters.