The Croqueta Thief

I can't believe I haven't blogged about this, considering it happened a while ago. That's how lazy I've been. Anyway, this has got to be one of the funniest, most interesting things that's ever happened to me in Madrid. A week after I got back, Sara returned to Madrid and we decided to meet for dinner. We didn't really have a place in mind and so finally, we settled for a tiny restaurant in the center where they had outdoor seating. We were placed right on a corner table so there was a lot of pedestrian traffic around us. It wasn't a surprise to see people check out our big fat croquetas (they were giant! I've never seen them this big) and albondigas as they walk pass us.

As we were sitting there enjoying the food and conversation, we noticed a homeless man walk by, eye our food, pass our table, casually walk back to our table, and then nonchalantly grab one of our croquetas!!! We were in so much shock that we just sat there in silence for a few seconds staring at our plate of croquetas (minus one). It was the strangest thing ever. People around us looked horrified. Another pedestrian came to us and asked, "Estais bien?". Si, si, we're okay. We just started cracking up. All eyewitnesses were shocked by the whole thing and even more shocked that we kept laughing about it. I mean, wouldn't you?!?! How often does something like that happen? I couldn't even be angry at him for stealing my food. I'm sure he was just really hungry. If he had asked us properly, we would've given it to him. But in a way, I'm glad he just stole it from us. It amused us greatly and now I can tell people about my encounter with the croqueta thief.

I'm an asshole!

Do you ever have those moments when you think to yourself: Damn, I'm one lucky bitch! I had one of those today. I was bored so I went for a walk this evening, just wandering around in the center, when I decided to treat myself to some ice cream on the way home. I stopped at an ice cream shop I usually don't go to and met a Filipino girl working there. I was ordering my scoop of turron flavored ice cream, when she suddenly asked me, in Tagalog, where I was from. I had planned to eat and walk, but she seemed really nice and seemed eager to talk so I stayed and chatted (I think she got frustrated with my very broken Tagalog because she told me to just speak English).

We were asking each other the usual questions for foreigners: what are you doing here; when did you arrive; how long will you be staying; why did you come; etc. At some point in our convo, she tells me how difficult it is for her to be here. She doesn't like it at all because she misses the Philippines a ton and she would like to go home. She also can't go back and visit a lot because it costs too much - better to send that money home to her family than to spend it on airfare. Then she proceeds to say she has a husband and a 7 year old.

This poor girl! She's here all alone, working in a coffee/ice cream shop (she used to be in marketing in the Philippines) just to make a better life for her family back home. Ahhh so sad! And here I am whining about not being able to go to Oktoberfest, even though I've already been! Or bitching about being bored because I don't have a ton of work. Or getting all upset about feeling lonely because I don't have many friends here. Well, at least I don't have a husband and kids back at home that depend on my paycheck (I got corporate bastards waiting for my check but I don't care as much about them). And at least I can go home at least twice a year to see my family and friends. I felt like such an asshole when I answered the why are you here question with, "I needed to get away and do something different." I mean, really!!! But I wasn't going to lie to her and make up some sad story. That would just be worse.

How lucky am I to be able to come here just because I can! Passport control barely looks at my passport just because it's blue and has an eagle on it. People give me a job just because I speak pretty much native English. I live close to the center just because I can afford it. I'm able to enjoy this wonderful city just because I'm young, unattached and have no real responsibilities.

I swear, every once in a while, someone's gotta slap me around and give me some perspective!!!

Sobreviviré

Who knew Gloria Gaynor of I Will Survive fame is still singing, let alone singing in Spanish??!! I mean I've seen her on those Motown reunion shows or whatever on PBS, but I had no idea she had new stuff. I've seen her a lot lately - and right at this moment - in this music video called Hacer por Hacer, a duet with Miguel Bosé. This guy is huge here!!! Apparently, he's this legendary pop singer and he's existed for decades. I love him just because he always seems so ridiculously fun and he reminds me all the time of my friend, Unai, who loves this guy.

But anyway, back to Gloria Gaynor. WTF! I guess she really did survive...ha!...yeah, I know, lame joke. Here's their music video. You be the judge!

P.S. This video is totally awesome for karaoke/learning Spanish, no?

Fran has self-control??

Now I know why it sucks when you think sensibly. The past week or so, I have been all over the internet looking for airfare for Oktoberfest in Munich this weekend. I wanted to go for many reasons: visit my relatives, hang out some more with Megan and Tess, beer and sausages, AND I just have so much freaking time in my hands. As of now, I'm only teaching 2 classes (8 hours total) from Monday to Wednesday. That's it!!! And of course, when I have the time, I don't have the money.

I was so close to getting a ticket this morning, seven hours before I intended to fly out. The price has been going up and down for the past week - I've checked everyday the past week, every hour the past three days - and I realized it was not gonna get any cheaper than $450. When I saw that price yesterday morning, I decided I would make my final decision and buy the ticket at night after work. To and from class, I made a list of reasons why I should stay and why I should go. There was ONLY ONE good reason on the "stay" column: save money. And yet that ONE had so much weight. In the end, I decided to just go for it. It was worth it considering I'd be there for almost 5 days (compared to paying $250 for a normal weekend), and I would never have this much time again. So I get home and...the prices went up again.

This morning, I decided to check one last time and the prices surprisingly decreased. But for some reason, something inside of me couldn't do it. I kept hearing that practical voice in my head and I really, really wanted it to go away but it wouldn't. It eventually won and I'm stuck in Madrid this weekend.

I am so ridiculously sad. I've been sitting here all day thinking I could be there by now having a nice hot meal with a big chunk of meat, not peanut butter and banana on packaged toasted bread. Then my aunt calls me and tells me her Oktoberfest plans for the weekend and I even got more sad. We talked for almost two hours and I just thought we could be talking to each other face to face right now...I love the long late night conversations I have with my aunt and I miss it.

And there goes. The one time I am practical, it totally sucks. I already hate the fact that I'm so damn indecisive, but it's even worse when the sensible side takes over. I mean, I was clearly stressed out about this when I got a huge ass zit last night. I cannot remember the last time I've gotten one since I moved here.

So two lessons learned: 1) I must have it real good if the only time I stress is when it comes to planning trips - thankgod, it's much appreciated, and 2) I need to just stick to my spontaneous, retarded, no self-control self! Life is just much more fun that way.

Out of Control

Megan, my wonderful friend from high school, came to visit me this weekend. As some of you may know, Megan is one of my craziest friends. Hanging out with her is always a good time. And as I expected, this weekend was "out of control", as Megan likes to say. Here are some highlights:

• Oh, Kapital: As always, bringing my visitors (Megan brought her friend, Tess, along with her) to the 7-story discoteca was a success. Let's just say when we got home, someone wouldn't shut up about how her neck smelled like man.
  

• Atletico Madrid v. Recreativo: The girls really wanted to see a futbol match. Real Madrid didn't play here this weekend so that means we had to see the other, not so famous team, Atletico. It was great because I finally got to see the team play and I finally got to go inside Estadio Vicente Calderon. It was fun. Ok, so I still prefer the Real Madrid matches but this one wasn't so bad. The team won 4-0...woohoo!

• Vuelta de España: Spain's version of Tour de France ended in Madrid on Sunday. We just happen to be walking along the route and decided to hang around and watch the spectacle. It was awesome! I have never seen a cycling tournament before and it was surprisingly exciting. Those cyclists are freaking fast!
  

• Tickling gypsies: As we were walking past the make shift homes of the gypsies living behind my building, Megan started joking around about what if a gypsy suddenly jumped out of the bushes and started tickling Tess to get her money...hahahaha. We found this ridiculously funny and it became a running joke all weekend long...you just had to be there.

• Sweet: Saturday, we went to a discoteca called Sweet. Since we had already gone to Kapital, which has a mix of foreigners and English speaking Spaniards, I wanted to take them to a club with only Spaniards. Of course, talking to men there was a tad bit more difficult for the girls. Finally, Megan made me her translator. A man, who according to Megan was hot but smelled like pickles (she's got some major scent issue), would not leave me alone because he really wanted "hacer amor" with her. I was cracking up. I was trying to get him away but he was so persistent. We discussed it for about ten minutes when I finally told him I was done and he was giving me a headache.
  

• Southside Irish accent: Ok, so Megan is not exactly the best at speaking Spanish. She's never studied it and her Chicago accent is just too hard to get rid of. So listening to her try is hilarious. For example, we were at the park and saw a stray cat. She asked me how to say cat in Spanish. I told her gato. She proceeded to look at the cat and say, hey cato. I just about died laughing. She thought I just added an o to cat! In another instance, a guy held the door for her and she accidentally said agua instead of gracias...hahahaha. God, I love her!

Alright, that's all I am going to disclose. Really, most of what happened just cannot be posted...ha! What happens in Madrid stays in Madrid.

Pictures and videos coming soon.

La Noche en Blanco

Ok, so I know I haven't blogged since I arrived in Madrid and some people (or one...ha!) are starting to wonder if I'm okay. I've just been so lazy. Not that I have much to do - work is a bit slow right now - I'm just super lazy. It probably doesn't help that I'm still a bit jet lag. I spend too much time tossing and turning at night just to find myself not being able to sleep until 3 AM (at the earliest), and then I take a long ass siesta when I have a chance during the day. Siestas are definitely not the best cure to jet lags. I thought I had cured it after sleeping for 12 hours on my first night back. But then I decided to go out until 7 AM the next night, which is about bed time for me in Chicago.

So here I am blogging because once again, I'm not sleepy. Tonight was or is - it's still going on as we speak - La Noche en Blanco. I'm not exactly quite sure when or how this started, but it's basically a night where everything is open super late and art exhibitions, performances, etc. are all free. There's just a ton going on all over the city. We started out the night in the north side where we expected some cool acrobatics. On the guide, they made it sound like people were going to walk/dance on walls like Beijing's Opening Ceremony. That was a total bust and it was nothing spectacular. After we headed west to see an art exhibit of one of Guille's friend. It was quite interesting. I didn't really get it but whatever...there was free alcohol.

Then we went to the most anticipated performance of the night: a tightrope walker over Plaza de Cibeles. By the time we got there, the place was packed. We couldn't even get all the way up the stairs of the Metro exit. But the stair well was enough to see him go over us. It was 30 minutes past the performance time and he still hadn't started. We were afraid we'd get in the middle of a stampede when people start heading back to the Metro. And anyway, it was so windy that we thought he was never gonna be able to start walking. I really didn't want to see anyone fall to their death, so we left.

We ended the night by meeting back up with Guille and his friends at Conde Duque, a neighborhood full of chill bars. I've always wanted to hang out there so I'm really glad I finally did. It was a cool area and I definitely want to go back there.

And there you go. Another long night of crazy Madrileños roaming the entire city. And as I finish this post, I'm finally starting to yawn. Perfect timing! Goodnight y'all...or should I say good morning.

Airport Musings

written on September 4 during a layover:

I have this thing with airports: I get highly amused by anything and everything when I’m in them. My senses somehow are in alert mode. I just love to observe everything around me and to make up stories about people in my head. Here are some random thoughts that have come to mind since I started my journey back to Madrid:

• I heart Atlanta! Ok, so I’ve actually never been outside of its airport but whatev. I love it! Men are hot! When my friend, Greg, used to live in Atlanta, I used to joke – not really – with him about finding me a hot black man. They are everywhere in the airport…just imagine the outside!
• Seeing a bunch of young men and women in desert war uniforms is a hard reality check. It’s so easy to forget that we’re at war when we don’t see dead bodies or hear bombs and gunshots on a daily basis. It was sad seeing them in huge masses as they are all in transit at the ATL airport, especially when 75% of the guys/girls I saw were no more than 25 years old.
• Another reason why I love Atlanta: people are nice! All airport personnel say hello and say a few more words like “how are you”. I have never been greeted by a U.S. passport controller as well as I was greeted in Atlanta.
• A guy in his 20s at the magazine store pointed out, in disbelief, the magazine, Black Hair, to his girlfriend. He comments that he doesn’t know how they could talk about such a subject 12 times a year. Thank god for his girlfriend who was smart enough to remind him that they make magazines about other types of hair also.
• Being on a plane full of Italians is like being on a plane full of Filipinos. It’s loud, people are constantly moving around even when the plane is about to take off, and flight attendants feel the need to constantly remind people of rules. Oh you gotta love the Italians!
• A young Italian man – who just came from Cancun because that’s what his wrist band said – got on the plane wearing a buttoned-down shirt that was unbuttoned almost all the way down to his belly button showing his chest hair. Classic!
• While halls of American airports are lined with one food chain after another, European airports are filled with shops (clothing, shoes, purses, etc.). You know you’re in an Italian airport when you see a Dolce & Gabbana (WTF!)…that and all the freaking beautiful women who are skinny with big boobs (damn it!).
• About six years and ten days ago, I arrived in Europe for the first time right here in Rome. Being here totally brings me back :(. If only I could get out of this ugly airport and see the Colosseum or the Trevi, and eat some pizza and gelato.

Well that’s all for now. I have about another two hours here at Fiumicino airport in Rome. I’m bored, tired, and sleepy. I can’t wait to crash on my tiny little twin bed. I’m gonna walk around see if I could practice the few Italian words I remember. Maybe I can go to Spizzico (the Italian fast food chain), or get a new outfit from D&G…hahahaha. Arrivederci!