(re)inspired and (re)educated.

life, as it will, has a way of sneaking up on you. waves of inspiration come and go, priorities ebb and flow, and the seasons come without fail.

thanks to hilarys post, i am now (also) feeling an urge to dust off this blog of mine. and i'm looking foward to it.

my life seems to have taken an interesting turn since my last post. i speak as though i had nothing to do with it, and sometimes i almost feel as if that's true. nonetheless, i am living in bristol, england studying my masters in TESOL (teaching english to speakers of other languages), with the focus being on applied linguistics.

(the streets of bristol, england)

to the question: "so, you want to teach?" my answer is: "i have no idea."

i never knew i would enjoy something so much...the english language especially. but, i have found my passion. and now that i've found it, the hard part is knowing what to do with it.

either way, it feels nice to be back in europe...or, in the uk rather. delicious cheese, earl grey tea and magner's cider are becoming staples in this little british life i'm creating.

i've got one year in bristol and then who knows what's next. but, i'm welcoming it one step at a time. it's going to be a good year.

round ireland with a fridge.

i recently finished reading a book by tony hawks (not the professional skateboarder, a comic englishman) called Round Ireland with a Fridge. i love ireland and i love fridges and i loved this book.

it's a nonfictional account about a drunken bet, hitchhiking (so, traveling), stepping outside of the "norm" mentally and physically and not giving a damn. it's set in the late 90s, just at the brink of the internet and mobile phone takeover. but they hadn't yet taken over (remember those days?) jack kerouac didn't have any of those fancy things and he did just fine. and so did tony hawks.

i recommend the book. i also recommend taking a day-off from the internet and the mobile phone.

if's on a cloudy day.

If

by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

FAIL.

if you're ever feeling blue, going to this website will undoubtedly bring a smile to your face. here's just a taste of it...


see more pwn and owned pictures


see more pwn and owned pictures


see more pwn and owned pictures

inspiration.

any time i can get my hand on amazing new music i am jumping up and down. i'm digging this indie band little dragon from sweden. this video makes my knees weak.

labor day.

though i am currently unemployed, i'm celebrating our day of labor today. i'm back in the states, weary but optimistic.

so far (in the last 4 weeks, since my arrival back to florida) i've celebrated my 25th birthday, had my tarot read, tried pilates for the first time, lived through hurricane fay (or, the most boring 4 days of imprisonment), won 5th place at trivia and watched the most amazingly inspirational democratic national convention.

and, might i add, florida beaches still take my breath away. this was taken a few weeks ago at my uncle's 60th birthday party in ponte vedra beach.

though i may not be laboring today, i hope to soon be laboring and getting back into the economical cycle of this country. america's not so bad. go obama!

the most beautiful place on earth [prague].

i think i could live here. the pictures don't quite capture the dreamy aura that prague emits, but lets be honest, capturing aura has got to be near impossible.

hello's.

i've become quite fond of learning different languages. i can speak english, spanish and very minimal czech. so, just in case you're traveling somewhere new and want to know how to start conversation....here's how to say hello in different languages.

i still haven't found what i'm looking for.

when did i become so cheesy? and when did U2 lyrics become so awesome? oh, bono, you and your ingenuity and spunk.

i use the song "i still haven't found what i'm looking for" to teach my intermediate students the present perfect. i've taught it so many times that i almost feel like it's a part of learning English. [how else will they know the time line that the perfect tense runs...other than playing "never have i ever"...]

but as many times as i hear it, or read it, or print it, i still get it. i don't know if it's everyones aspiration in life; to find what they're looking for. but for some reason i feel like i am one of the lucky few who are delighted with a curious spirit. [meaning, i'm too introspective]

i recently read a book titled "what should i do with my life?" by po bronson. i'm one who falls in love with books quickly, and this one was no exception. it's a non-fictional account of about 50-ish people and their stories [i.e.: what they do with their lives, and how they got there.] it helped me to put things into perspective. and it made me smile. i am not lost. i am only lost-ish.

on that note. i kind of hate blogs. i hate how "introspective" and "self-involved" they are. i wonder why we feel like someone out there would want to read about our cares and journeys and dreams. [well, i guess i do, and i assume 1 or 2 of my friends haha.] but i guess we'd all agree that at this weird point in our lives....this quarter-life-something time....we're all searching for something. and i'm putting it out there...that i still haven't found whatever the hell it is that i'm looking for. and on that note, i am damn well happy nonetheless!

paris please, with a side of cheese.

4 women. 3 americans. 2 leos. 2 cancers. 1 chilean.

last weekend 3 of my best barcelona buds and i set sail to paris, france. ["ohh la la" is right!] monday was a holiday [welcome to spain], so we took advantage of the long weekend. why not blow a couple hundred euros that we don't have in one of the most beautiful cities in the world? exactly.

we stayed in a hostel that was more like an american fast food restaurant - consumerism lining the walls - in a shady neighborhood ["one of the worst, definitely" said a native] - by a shady retention pond. they claimed that locals hang out at the bar downstairs, a bar dubbed "belushie's" [yes, there was that Animal House poster of him wearing the "college" shirt]. why do i doubt that statement? point is, it wasn't that french cottage along the seine that i was envisioning, but it was nice nonetheless. it was clean, they had free tours and they let us crash on the couches for free the last night because we had no where to stay [and i'm usually an obsessive compulsive planner, but thought i'd be spontaneous.]

the first morning we took advantage of 1 of the free tours which started in the latin quarter, along with fellow americans [well, most of them were canadians, but they sound like us, so it's all the same.] our precious [but gregarious] tour guide was telling us his autobiography when all of a sudden we hear this horrible, loud bang. we all turn to see a man laying lifeless in the street. he'd been hit and run over by a bus. it was frightening. we all stood shell-shocked; transfixed. luckily the man started moving a little bit...but i don't know what became of his fate. our tour guide [which i quickly lost respect for] clapped his hands and said "well, that puts a damper on the beginning of the tour." we abandoned the tour shortly after.

that first day we wandered the streets, walking until our bodies started shutting down...haha...literally. we went to the notre dame, louvre, champs-elysées, the arc de triumph, and many'a cute little french store. that night we hit the town and ate the most amazing fondue [...lets talk about how amazing the cheese is here!], escargo and chocolate mousse at an authentic [aka: touristy] french restaurant. it was de-freaking-lish. it ended with a little kitty sitting next to us cleaning itself. i don't know if the kitty lived in the restaurant or was a nomad who'd somehow found its home in our quaint, dimlit hole-in-the-wall space. french kitties are smart.

the next/last day we went to montmarte....by far my favorite spot in beloved paris. the streets are lined with charm and avant garde-ness. we made ourselves at home in every little shop...responding with a smile and a "gracias." [why can i not speak in any other language than spanish these days? barcelona has gotten inside my head just won't leave.] we spoke more spanish there than ever....even met some mexican and spanish travelers. after our rendez-vouz in montmarte we went to the eiffel tower to see what all the hype was about. the sun was setting, and there was a'glow of the sunset on the tower. mmm, nice combination. with 2 bottles of wine in hand we set up shop below the tower and soaked it in.

i have no question why they call paris the city of love. i loved it. i loved the cheese, the beer, the chocolate, the arcitecture, the river, the flow-y dresses adorning the natives, even the pout of the snotty french women...and so on.

and so....my life continues. as long as i have a little getaway every once in a while i will keep my sanity. wandering is not so bad. i kind of dig it.

if there's one thing i know...

it's that i love yoga.
other than that i'm clueless.

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]