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!

T minus 6 hours

It is now 5 AM and I still haven't slept. Yesterday I received an email from a girl who wanted to rent my room for a month. It has been impossible to find someone willing to rent for only one month. So I gave up on this idea a long time ago and didn't really care. It meant not needing to clean my nasty room and pack things up so it's livable for someone else. But then this girl emailed me and she's really interested. So instead of just packing tonight, I had to clean and organize everything (I am a mess!). But it's all good b/c now I will just stay up and easily pass out on the plane. This is my anti-jetlag strategy.

So I'm just sitting here waiting, slowly getting very tired, and thinking about this upcoming trip. I have to be honest and say I have been a bit anxious about this trip. Not only because of the whole visa thing, but just in general. If you had asked me three months ago if I wanted to go home, I would've said yes in a heartbeat. But then things changed. I slowly started meeting new people, making friends, I was hanging out more, and just having a lot of fun! I didn't want to slow my momentum down. It's not that I don't want to see people at home, I'm just going home at a bad time.

I think I also just don't know what to expect when I arrive home. Will I seem different, like bad retarded different? Will I have enough money? Will I have enough time to spend good quality time with everyone? Will everyone/everything at home be weird for me? And the big one, will I have so much fun and realize I need to stay in Chicago and not return to Madrid? I knew I was a bit stressed out about it because for a few days last week, I was having some strange ass vivid bad dreams, a rare occurrence for me. It ranged from not having a valid passport to people being angry at me for not hanging out with them.

I was also sad because I was slowly saying goodbye to people. Most of them I will see again, but you know me and goodbyes. But I was definitely sad to say goodbye to Andrew. He's not coming back to Madrid so I will not see him when I return. Madrid without Andrew will just not be the same. This kid and I have been together pretty much since we set foot in this city. He was my soundboard, my restaurant partner, my co-dancer, my friend. Oh Andrew! How I will miss him...

But on a happier note, now that I'm hours away from home, I'm definitely getting more excited. I CANNOT wait to see everyone. I CANNOT wait to be able to hold my nephew for the first time. I CANNOT wait to hug my nieces. I CANNOT wait to catch up with my older siblings who were not able to visit me. I CANNOT wait to play tour guide and show beautiful Chicago to Juan and Begoña (they are moving to Chicago to teach Spanish). I CANNOT wait to hang out with my friends and enjoy a good 'ol BBQ. I CANNOT wait to see my bright orange room and sleep on my comfy big bed. I CANNOT wait to walk in my house, see my entire family, eat Portillo's (as I've requested, and lately have been pronouncing it /Por-ti-yos/). It's going to be wonderful!

So I guess I'll have to sit here in my very clean room for the next 2 hours until I have to leave for the airport. I guess it's about time I take a shower and get my flight info and stuff...that would probably good.

Well, that's about it from me. I should go move around before I fall asleep in my nicely made up bed. See you all soon!!! Hasta pronto!

I'll have the guillotine, extra blood, no garotte

I was watching a super sad (so sad that I couldn't stop crying) movie the other day about the last anti-Franco man to be executed. His name was Salvador and he was this idealistic kid who just wanted to help Spain and end the dictator's rule. So he got involved in a small rebellion group of young guys. Unfortunately, the police was able to track him down and he fatally shot a cop in the process of his capture. In the end, the court decided to sentence him to death by garrote. It was terrible! For those of you who don't know what a garrote is, it's this iron metal collar they put around the person's neck. Then they turn this thing so the collar gets tighter and tighter. It's an execution device that originated in Spain and was very well used in the Spanish colonies. It's sick! It just made me think I would take the guillotine any day before the garrote!

Speaking of torture, teaching my morning class is one big torture. I have two teenage students in it and I want to punch the 14 year old boy's face every time. He is a terrible, awkward, pubescent brat!!! He doesn't listen, blatantly shows you that he is bored/not interested, and just has no manners. I'm pretty sure he talks about me in Spanish to the other student during class. I may not understand him completely but I've lived here long enough to know when someone is talking about me. The other day was just the tip of the iceberg (is that how the expression goes?). He told me I speak bad English!!! I was like, "WTF???" Just because I can distinguish the words bad and bed doesn't mean I speak bad English. I'm sorry that I don't say the English long a and e the same way as the Spanish e. I'm sorry that I don't say, badth or bedth. I'm sorry that you failed English in school and your rich parents made you take English classes. Uggh!! I was so angry!!! This is coming from a kid who is also in summer school because he failed Castellano. He can't even get his own language down and he has the audacity to tell me I speak badly?! And to think I have two more days with this pain in the ass. I would rather teach my 4 hour guy than sit with this brat for one hour. Once again, another teenager to reinforce my hatred.

On a better note, I almost had a brush with Aladdin...hahahaha...not really. I teach across the Hotel Intercontinental and the other day, I noticed lines of Mercedes Benz parked on the street as I passed it. There were also a ton of cops in the area. I knew it had to be someone important. There are usually important people there, but I've never seen it to this extent. My student told me that apparently some prince from Saudi Arabia was staying there. In the morning, all her colleagues that drive to work and pay a monthly fee to park in the hotel were refused parking. They were told that the entire parking lot was reserved only for the prince and his posse, and the Benzes outside the hotel were part of the Royal Protocol (as it said on the sticker on their windshields). Also in the morning, before the prince arrived, my student had a meeting/conference with Spain's Industrial Minister. She walked into the hotel and noticed she was walking on red carpet...covered in plastic (ha!). Not even the Minister could walk on the red carpet. It was ridiculous! Those Arabian princes are seriously loaded! Where does our gas money go? To men who can easily demand that a hotel be emptied out and have his people only drive Benzes, then leave the working class people parkless and angry.

I wonder what Salvador would do???

Please help

So my good friend, Kevin, is in the Dominican Republic right now as a Peace Corp volunteer (see Kevin's blog under my links). He's been there for almost a year now but hasn't been able to start his project due to a lack of funding. He's been basically getting the run around from various foundations...boo. Thus, Kevin has to raise part of the funding on his own and find family and friends to donate.

Basically the project is to build a better, more efficient water system in a village in the DR. As you all know, clean water is very necessary to have a better, healthy life that's free of diseases. But it's not only to have clean water, but also so that people won't have to walk for miles just to get water. I mean, kids have to haul all that water back and forth when they could be doing something better - study, play, things kids should be doing. I would talk about it more but I think you get the idea. And I'm probably not the best at explaining these things. So again, read his blog to get a clearer picture of the actual project. The great thing about this is that the project is so specific that you will actually see the result; so you get to see exactly where your money goes.

So please help...even the smallest amount will do. Once the project gets underway, Kevin will have updates and pictures on his blog (again see my links) so you can track the progress. If you would like to donate, please click on the link below:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=517-263

Muchas gracias por tu ayuda!!!

Shakira's hips??? Yeah, they definitely don't lie

I'm a convert. The Spaniards have officially converted me to a Shakira fan. This will probably come as a shock to most of you, but I seriously like her now. The music festival, Rock in Rio, has made its way to Madrid this year. My friends had been wanting to go and had tried to persuade me to go, but I just couldn't justify paying the price for the ticket. It cost 69 Euros a day and I just didn't think it was worth paying that much for people I didn't really know. I've paid more than that for music festivals, but those festivals were for three days, with a ton of bands, and a ton of musicians I actually like.

The lineup consisted of Orishas, Stereophonics, Amy Winehouse, Jamiroquai, and Shakira. I have no idea who Stereophonics is. I only know one Orisha song from the awesome - yes, awesome - Dirty Dancing Havana Nights movie. I didn't even know Jamiroquai still existed. Amy Winehouse would probably be too drunk/high to perform. And Shakira?? I don't really care much for her. The Spaniards love her and yes I've heard some of her music in discotecas that I actually enjoy. Other than that, I will always associate her with that Forever and Ever song...I think that's what it's called. I hated that song and that music video. Even though I don't know any of her music before that song, I knew she used to be some rock singer in Colombia and I just thought she was just some sell-out with a half top, shaking her ass.

So, I resisted and didn't get a ticket. But by this week, it seemed like everyone I know was going to this thing. I started to change my mind but in true Fran fashion, I didn't exactly decide until the day of. In the end, I didn't want to spend Friday night just sitting alone in the house, stuffing my already fat face (because that's what I do when I'm alone and bored). Plus, when was the last time I went to a concert?? And I haven't been to one show here in Spain.

And so I went and I'm glad I did...for the most part. The concert venue was in some bufu location east of the city. The concert provided free coach buses to transport people from Bernabeu Stadium to Arganda del Rey, the venue. About ten of us met up at 5:30. So we got in the super long line for the bus armed with cervezas and sangrias. By the time we actually got to the concert, it was already around 8. We got in at the perfect time...Orisha just started playing Represent Cuba, the one song I know! I loved it! Then we saw Amy Winehouse, who was as usual drunk. But I thought she was awesome. She was still able to sing pretty well, although she kept chugging - not sipping - wine and readjusting her boobs. It was quite entertaining. And her backup singers were hot!!! I really enjoyed her songs. I just like how her songs are bluesy and jazzy. She even had some reggae in there and at one point one sounded like hawaiian. I wanted to start hula dancing. She would have such a good future if she isn't so messed up. That girl's got talent!

As for Shakira, I judge too quickly. That woman actually has great songs. And that forever and ever song is way better in Spanish! I thoroughly enjoyed her performance. She has this wonderful stage presence and she just gets you so into it. I never thought she was that pretty, but my god she is beautiful and has a rockin' body. At one point I turned to Andrew and said, "That woman could make me a lesbian" and Andrew says, "Me too". HAHAHAHAHA. The guys had an argument whether she was an 8 or 9 or a 10...apparently this rating system by men for women is universal. I personally think she's a 9...no one could ever be a 10! I'm still wondering how she manages to sing while shaking her hips so fast. I of course tried it and it was difficult. I'm definitely taking belly dancing classes.

So that was my first concert experience in Madrid. It was great! I only have two complaints: the sets were way too short (an hour and a half for each band), and coming home was a bitch! Shakira finished at about 2 AM, but the festival wasn't closing until 6 AM. But it was all electronic music after that and there's no way I could listen to that crap for that long. So half of us decided to leave at 3 and pay for a taxi home (Metro doesn't open until 6). However, we had to wait in line for about an hour to get on a bus. By the time we got back to Bernabeu, it was impossible to find a free taxi. We had no idea how to get home! Bernabeu is so far north that there's really no easy way to take a night bus to our homes. So we started walking. Slowly we parted our ways as each person passed their neighborhood. In the end, I was walking alone since I lived farthest south. By the time I was halfway home, the Metro finally opened and I hopped on. I was soo annoyed. My roommates who left after me got home before me! Go figure!!

By the way this is totally off topic, but is anyone watching the Wimbledon match between the Williams sisters. My god, their mom has some huge knockers!!! Also, is that a birth control patch on Serena's back??? It can't be a nicotene patch. You know she don't smoke. If it is a bc patch, then that's just tacky. Way to be safe, but tacky.

I gotta get back to sleep...