Catfish: the blog

Fairly recently, I made a rather quick judgement on MTV's new series, Catfish: The Show, not to be confused with Catfish (the movie). At first glance I just thought it was just another shitty show on MTV. But one night after winding down from a long school/work day, I turned on the TV and the show was on. I had previously heard the general overview of the concept: a guy by the name of Yaniv "Nev" Schulman, his friend, and brother decided to make a documentary on his journey involving an online relationship. When it ended on a sour note, Nev received many emails from people all over the country who said they were going through the exact same thing, thus the show was born.      

When I watched a full episode, and started doing some research on the movie, I was pleasantly blown away. I changed my mind immediately about the presumptions I had made. I think it was mainly due to the subject matter, which of course being online dating. I'm aware that with technology being more readily available, online dating is more prevalent than ever, and I'm aware that while there are many horror stories, there are stories that have a happy ending as well. I think this documentary, and now the show, shine a light on a topic that hasn't really received much exposure when you actually think about it; arguably a lot of the information has been hearsay. It usually goes something along the lines of, "My cousins, brothers, mother met her fiancee online and now they live happily ever after." Or, "My mother-in-laws, sisters twin met a guy online and now she has genital warts and six kids." Either or, really.  

What they did is getting a lot of attention, and rightly so. For once MTV didn't fail royally. It highlights the pitfalls people tend to run into when dealing with stuff like this, the red flags, and the potentials for lying. In every episode I have seen so far, there has been some sort of deception, just like in Nev's case. I don't want to give it all away, but what I find particularly interesting is that the majority of the time the individuals involved end up maintaining some sort of friendship, even if some sort of lying was involved. That seems like a fantastical idea, especially seeing how some of their stories unfold. I've been thinking about that for a while now; what would make someone overlook indiscretions, some graver than others? It's actually not that absurd, and Nev has a captivating explanation for just that in his documentary, which is also the background for why it's called Catfish.

There's the potential, meaning if one does not know this type of person, to have the pleasure or misfortune in knowing a person who makes you feel alive. They add something to your life that you don't think you could get anywhere else. They make up a part of you, for better or for worse.

I absolutely believe that that has some merit to the question, sometimes it's worth it to forgive someone, rather than write them off for good. And I think it takes a certain kind of person to realize that. Life is full of risks, and so is that alive person.

Friday was when my last final was due at 3pm, so I've officially completed half of my last year at Oswego. I made a worthwhile decision in staying here for a couple days to relax and unwind. Astonishingly enough, I got some Christmas shopping done as well. Thanks to some friends I got to crash on their couch, since my housing in the Village kicks me out 24 hours after your last final, or Saturday 10am at the very latest.

I'm only to be met with a free concert at the Upstate Concert Call tomorrow evening. I only predict great things, good music with great people. Then it's back to the Dam for winter break. This past semester has been...interesting to say the least. I don't predict it getting any less interesting with the coming semester either.  As you can see here at Steph's 22nd birthday, I think things are going in the right direction:

Happy birthday Steph :) 

I've been thinking a lot about if I have any people in my life who make me feel alive, and have a hard impact on my life. And you can argue that just about anyone, or any that goes true for any best friend you may have. Aside from that, I think I really do know what it's like to have a catfish, to experience a catfish. And I'm grateful to know, and to have known them.

Last housemate picture of the semester, going to miss you K-Diz!

And now it's time to try and enjoy ourselves. Let the ugly sweater parties commence, and the excuses to drink on major holidays begin. 

Vantage points

A couple weeks ago I gave a presentation at the study abroad orientation for the students who are taking their big journey in the spring. It was a bit surreal, because it's hard to believe I was sitting right where they were a year ago already. That is wild. I could probably get an idea of what they were feeling at an orientation for leaving the country for about half a year. It's scary as hell, especially for this group who are the Latin American and Spanish speaking countries group of the program. These people have to deal with not just a change of scenery and customs, but also a language. It's can be quite overwhelming, especially in the beginning, but the moment when it actually starts to click is truly amazing. And it's bad enough that everyone has to sit through the part where they tell you try not to get kidnapped, and don't drink the water if you are going to the fallowing places: A, B, C,.....X, Y, Z. That's enough to scare anyone. 

I can't help but think about what they are about to go through, how it will change them, probably for the better if they let it. It's so exciting, I wish all of them the best in their travels. 

And then this thought spiraled into a series of thoughts that basically equate to some other aspects in my life that I have a different "vantage point" on. It's on just about everything now that I really think about it. Time seems to be flying faster than usual lately. With graduation right around the corner I've been doing a lot of self reflecting, as cheesy as that sounds, although I'm sure that's pretty much normal. We are at a pivotal, and pretty stressful point in our lives right now. We all know it, and we all can feel it. I can hear it just by walking by groups of people in the academic buildings, mostly. The "what am I going to do for the rest of my life" is definitely in the air. And really, who knows? Just the other day my friend asked if I would be interested in moving to Colorado after graduation and live in a nice house with a low rent fee, and it got me really thinking. I would just be crazy enough to say yes, and who knows, maybe I will do that after graduation. I am totally leaving my options open, where ever the road take me, if you catch my drift.

Going back to the idea of vantage points, It's really interesting, for me as lest, to see how my blog has progressed, the different vantage points in writing. It's a different kind of journey right now than when I started it. A lot has changed in a year.

Yesterday I signed the piece of paper in my advisers office that says I have met all the qualifications for graduating, and my graduation date will be May 18th, 2013. Now that is crazy. I can feel the icy breath of reality upon my neck (to partially quote Hocus Pocus). I can go anywhere, and that idea is really exciting to me. Ever since I got back from Madrid I have been craving another city to dive into, that seems to be where my direction is going at this point in my life. I do love nature as well so that could very well change. 

I'm stating to get less panicky about this decision and am really starting to go with the flow. It's not the end of the world if I don't go straight to grad school; I'm excepting that. Although I haven't made a full decision yet, I still may go straight from undergrad. But I'm going to except whatever happens and make the absolute best of it, because I'm graduating, and I'm ready.   

This is a bit off topic, but I wanted to share this truly inspirational piece I found on the Huff Post. I think it's something we should show more of these days, respect. Respect for each other, that seemed to be lost a very long time ago when we decided it would be a better idea to figure out faster, quicker ways to kill our own kind, rather than be civil to each other even though we may be a bit different.

So let's grab a fork, eat some turkey until we're as stuffed as the stuffing, and do what the Pilgrims did. Oh wait...

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. 

Sleepwalking

My counseling professor said a couple weeks ago that many us, he would go as far as saying that the majority of us, sleepwalk through life. I've thought about what he said ever since and I think there is a lot of truth behind it, and I would go as far as saying, especially for our generation. We are the masters of sleepwalking through life, I myself included. Going through the motions, never taking risks with our heads buried in our smart phones on Facebook.

I'm not trying to turn this into a bash on social media, although I do think there are bad and good sides to it.

The problem is for some reason, I'm not sure when, but we decided to stop taking risks along the way. I don't know if it's because we got comfortable, or what, but what I do know is we need to wake the fuck up.

Let's play again. I don't know who the fun sucker was that decided once you hit a certain age you can't play anymore. Let's take risks. Instead of saying, "Oh, I don't know..." just do it. I don't mean that for everything of course, if you think you might go to jail you probably shouldn't do it. But seriously, if you ask elderly people what they wish they did more of when they were younger, many of them say they wish they took more risks. And I don't know about you, but I don't want that to be one of my greatest regrets.

I look around my campus on my way to class, I try to keep my head up, or if I'm on my bike more alert. However, looking back at my is not a face, oh no, it's the top of people's heads. And frankly, it's starting to drive me crazy. I just want to scream, "Look at me!" What happened to the days of smiling and waving to complete strangers? Saying, "Morning" or "Good evening." Those days shouldn't be dead my friends.

I know this seems like a small trivial thing, but for me this is more than just a smile or a wave, it's about our attitudes towards one another. I think it's safe to say there is a growing lack of respect for one another. Just the other day all the students received an email about an assault in the middle of the quad. It was one against five, and from what I heard that man is still in the hospital. Let's stop the violence.

This past weekend was the Global Awareness Conference put on by one of my absolute favorite professors here, Becky Burch. The key note speaker was a man by the name of Arn Chorn-pond. Please check out this video of Arn and the author of the book about his life, Patricia McCormick.

Overall, Arn went through hell and back in his village in Cambodia and horrors we couldn't even imagine. He is a remarkable human being because he channels all he went through into his work on improving conditions in Cambodia by exposing what happened during the Khmer rouge, and trying to educate and help female prostitutes. He is also restoring the traditional music and instruments of Cambodia since so many were killed during the Khmer rouge. He has done work in America as well with gangs and educating American about Cambodia as a whole. What is truly remarkable to me is Arn's personal goal. He is trying to unite America and Cambodia through the power of music. Next year in New York City Arn will be putting on a concert with Cambodia's finest musicians called Season of Cambodia .

Even after all Arn's been through, his take home message is: love each other. Even though he saw his parents killed, his sister and brother starve to death, and systematic killing of just about everyone around him, his goal in life is to educate and restore a sense of love and respect back into this world, and to stop the violence and killing. Now this, this is the kind of attitude we should be modeling. Thank you Arn.

Let's love each other.  

Quick, pull the ripcord!

There are one million and one over things that I should be doing right now. On that laundry list is actually my laundry, getting through my last year of undergrad, doing some self discovery, and of course the insurmountable task of figuring out what the hell I'm going to do with my life. It has been my philosophy for quite some time now to have this "no pasa nada" attitude, to go with the flow and don't sweat it. But I'm starting to feel the pressure of the reality of the situation here; I can't breathe. I randomly start to feel panicky and have the sudden urge to flee. Maybe this has the undertones of an underlying problem, but hey, I'm not the psychologist yet (although, this 'urge to flee' seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life lately). I'm having a great senior year when you look at it from the outside, but on the inside it's a mess. And I know, oh how I know, that these will become the least of my worries, as is the case for most worries in life.

My posts have gotten progressively more angsty and for that, I apologize. It's not all about sunny beaches and Spanish food anymore. I wish I could go back to that. I wish I could go back to a couple of high points in my life, and leave the lows out. The one thing I know for sure is I don't want to go back to is the timid, naive person that I once was.

This idea segwaying into me sitting on the couch this afternoon, feeling sorry for myself and more alone than ever for some unknown reason, I decided I'm going to take control. I need to be more proactive and grab life by the balls so to speak. Take a step back and breathe. I can do whatever I want, and yeah, right now it's really scary, but everyone goes through it.

I feel like I've really grown into myself this past year, and what I've found is that I'm stronger than I think I am, and I have the ability to push a little bit more even when I think I can't go any further.

So, I propose we all lift each other up, brush each other off, and move forward. We can do this. Si se puede. Anyone else who is going through this as well (and I know you are to some degree), just know that you are not alone, and sometimes you just have to just pull the ripcord, even if you are falling from an astronomical height, and you feel like you just can't do it. Oh, and this guy really did fall from an Astronomical height the other day, check it out this shit is nuts.

One that note, I have a concert to go to, a perfect way to blow off some steam and forget the world for a couple of hours. The power of music really is an amazing thing...

Underpinnings

It's been quite a while. It's been busy, it's been crazy, it's been happy and it's been some of the worst days and feelings of my life. I'm putting a warning on this post, you don't have to read this. I'm doing this one purely for myself. I need to process, and lately this is how I've been doing it. Maybe I should be doing this privately, I don't know. Therefore, you can stop now, I almost encourage it. God, I'm so over dramatic, it's one of my downfalls, I think.

Anyway...let's start off on a lighter note. The first couple weeks of my senior year of college have been great. I enjoy my classes, I'm finally learning and exercising my brain again in the classroom which is refreshing. One of my favorite classes this semester is BioPsyc with one of my favorite professors. She was going over the syllabus and talking about the "underpinnings" and the general outline she would like us to get out of the class. She then proceeded to tell us a story of, for lack of a better term, a dumb-ass of a student who didn't do the first assignment because, out of the whole paragraph of explanation for the paper that was due she didn't understand one word: underpinnings. I know this is a bit random, but she told us this story weeks ago, I think it's been a month now, and it really stuck with me. Sometimes it will just pop in my head and I keep going back to it, thinking to myself what the hell was that girl was thinking, or not thinking. Is this really what we are turning into? I don't even know this person and they have offended me. But aside from my professor, and maybe her parents if they actually give two shits, I'm probably the only other person in the world who is personally offended by this act of ignorance. Maybe I should really lighten up...

My apartment is great, and is slowly feeling more and more like home, especially with the new editions we have been making to really make it feel like our own. We added an old school GE record player with a collection of 56 records and counting. And it's amazing what some lights and throw blankets can do to spruce up a place (my throw blanket contribution of course being Spiderman).

My roommates are amazing, we all get along really well. I'm not complaining at all, but it's almost unbelievable how the dynamics work in the house considering there are six of us and we all fell into this living situation through friends of friends and we all didn't know each other. I'm extremely great full that it all worked out, we've been having a blast, laughing and getting to know each other, going out and recently celebrating my previous roommates 21st. Needless to say we've had some pretty memorable nights so far.

This past weekend I've been planning on going home for a while now for my sisters family birthday party and working, in my opinion, one of the best concerts of the season, Florence + the Machine. I was so excited, to see my friends, my coworkers, my family. But unfortunately it kills me to say, to type, to think, that I am being faced with one of life's milestones. If I put it into family counseling terms, my family system is being ruptured and tested right now. My underpinnings are being dislodged, so to speak, and unraveling apart.

I feel terrible, physically and mentally all the time. I feel terrible for everyone involved. I feel terrible for spilling this over to everyone I know, especially my friends, especially some of them who are dealing with mountains compared to me. I love you all, and thank you. I hope you all know how much I appreciate every single one of you, and each for a very different special reason. You are all too good for me, and just so you know, I'm here for you no matter what as well.

We all have underpinnings, we all know what they are, even that girl from the previous class...I think. When they go off track we try to set them straight again, get back to equilibrium. It's hard, and it will be different. But it is how we overcome this change that matters. I'll do my best, I'll try to be strong, for myself and everyone else. Everything changes, our underpinnings shift, but the love I have for my family and friends never will.

Si se puede.

Hotel Roy

Oh my, oh my...I have so much to say and I should probably split this up into a couple of posts, but I've been wanting to get this out for a while now so fellow readers bear with me. The past week or so has been pretty hectic, and I shall try to make this as short as possible.

My last post was about part 1 of my Chicago road trip, so naturally I'll start off with part 2. Every year I always have such a memorable time with my cousins. They really take care of us while we are there in just about every way possible. Making sure we get to eat the foods we really like that we can only get there (Chicago style deep dish pizza mMm), taking us to new an exciting places that they want to check out that just opened in town, and we almost always go to at least one concert and a show at the Second City Comedy Club. Although the actual things we do are memorable, it's the time we are spending together that matters. They are such amazingly beautiful people, every time I go there I feel like I get the strongest essence of family. We are so diverse, families and backgrounds from all around the world. The feeling of sitting around the dinner table, conversing, drinking and eating is one of the simplest pleasures I really try not to take for granted. My good friend from high school wrote in her blog about the lovely experiences of simply eating at a dinner table with friends and family, and how she can't wait until the next time her dinner table invites another new experience to come and converse with her. (She has an amazing blog, second set of baby steps , check it out!).

That is exactly what happened at the "Hotel Roy" as we so cleverly coined my cousins house since their house regularly hosts passing family members and friends. This time Matt and I were not the only family members there. The house was full of my cousins parents, brother, and on one day his two cousins and uncle from Minnesota. I loved every minute of it. It's always really hard to say goodbye to them, but alas, after an amazing 10 days it was time to make that awful drive on I-90 back to New York. Thankfully, the drive home was way smoother than the drive there, and this time we had peanut butter.

Unfortunately, after that short get-a-way I was welcomed back with open arms to the stresses of life and moving back to Oswego with just two short days to pack my life up, which is nothing new at this point. So naturally in true Crystal fashion, I took those two days and used them to their fullest and spent my free time packing and getting ready...NOT. Waited until last minute as usual. I wouldn't be me if I didn't. But hey, it pretty much worked out in the end. I used those two days to work one more concert, even if it was one of the worst ones of the season, and to have one final party of the summer with my friends from home. Then and only then did the packing commence.

The plan was to leave by 11am on Thursday, but we got off to a late start because I was particularly slow moving in the morning, no reason at all...really. So instead we ended up leaving around 1pm. Of course with my luck when we finally got to Oswego, my code to get into my apartment would not work. Luckily after a short bit it worked out, we brought my things inside, went grocery shopping, singed myself in and I went to my first work meeting. It was quite a long day. Only to be matched by an equally tiring day the next with unpacking everything, setting up my internet and cable, going to work and using things in my apartment for the first time like the stove and pots and pans. Maybe its juvenile, but I've never had an apartment before and the little things like using the shower and making dinner for the first time are pretty monumental for me as lame as it sounds.

It's pretty deserted here since school doesn't start up for another week with fairly few early returners. I'm in that big apartment all by myself and every little noise echoes like crazy. But I have a good feeling about the set up and this semester. Hopefully things stay positive and those "negative vibes" don't bring me down, but that is another blog entirely.

Peanut butter-less in Ohio

A while ago my cousin and I started the tradition of going to Chicago once a year in the summer to visit our other cousins who live there. About three years ago we decided to make the journey by car because actually, it's cheaper to drive than it is to fly...how sad is that?

This year I was especially itching to get there ever since I got back to the states in June, it was something to really look forward to. However, the day to finally leave crept up on me. I've been pretty busy with work and before I knew it it was time to pack up the car and drive. And of course, true Crystal fashion I literally started packing an hour before I left. I'm getting pretty good at that. God, I'm such a procrastinator.

It's about a 12ish hour drive from Amsterdam to our cousins house in Chicago with stopping and such. Well for a couple of irritating reasons, the drive this year was particularly awful. Good thing my cousin Matt and I get along because we were trapped in that car for a very long time, things could of gotten ugly real quick. Overall it was a typical road trip, (minus the whole peeing in a bottle thing, you know, that scene that's in just about every road trip movie) I'm just over dramatizing things. There was traffic, we got hungry and then we got tired.

The random bouts of traffic happened quite frequently, I guess it's bound to happen when you are on I-90 for just about the whole length of it. Whenever I hit traffic I feel like such a stereotypical driver, blaming everyone else on the road shouting, "It's your fault that I'm here right now you bastards!"

Ohio is where the hunger came. We decided we were going to do PB&J among other healthy snacks so we didn't have to stop as much, and so we didn't have to shave a couple years off our lives and our wallets with the awful rest stop food. We also realized that we forgot the PB and were only left with the J for our sandwiches. Using our handy dandy smart phones we found a couple of stores near us to go on the hunt for the peanut butter. Little did I know it would actually be a hunt. I made a smart-ass remark in the car, "Ohio doesn't have peanut butter"...whelp, Ohio really doesn't have peanut butter. Sort of.

We got off I-90 and found ourselves in the saddest little town I have ever seen. Matt and I both agreed that we would rather live in Amsterdam, now that is saying something. Everything had very direct names like "The Car Store" and "Haircuts." F: for wittiness, A+: for never getting confused about where you are going. We found some stores that looked like they should of sold peanut butter in a little plaza with one of the biggest parking lots I've ever seen. The parking lot was far superior to the stores they housed. But not by looks, oh no, because everything was run down and cracked. I'm all for giving something a bit of character, but this was beyond character. This lot needed a couple coats of straight sealant and some TLC...the band would probably even work as well (I'm hilarious). On a side note, Lisa-Left Eye- Lopez has been coming up a lot in conversation lately. Weird.

Any-who, after two or three stores and 45 minutes, we finally found some peanut butter in the smallest section on the bottom shelf of a supermarket. I do say, that is was too long to be on a search for jar of peanut butter, so I have come to the conclusion that I don't like Ohio because of this minuscule white girl problem and have denounced to ever live there. I am obviously being 100% rational.

Finally after being in a car for the whole day we arrived at our destination at about 3am Chicago time, we left at 11am New York time, you do the math.

It's nice getting away, it's nice seeing family you don't normally get to see, I mean I don't have to tell you all that. When we came up to that Chicago skyline in the middle of the night I felt that old glowing feeling, like I was saying hello to an old friend. It was like I was home again.

I'll be updating soon with all the wild and wacky adventures I go on this week. The first couple of days here were spent on some much needed relaxing and family outings. Oh, and I saw The Dark Knight Rises, so good.

Tonight I'm attempting to cook dinner for the family, here's to hoping I don't burn the house down.

Backsliding

I know I said I would try to make this blog as little about my feelings as possible, but since my journeys across the pond have unfortunately come to an end...for now at least, my blog has taken a new direction. It is still a journey of a mad white women, but a different one. Me, plunging into the new trials and tribulations of life as I move forward. Instead of writing about laying on a beach in Mallorca as the sun sets, or drinking a beer with an old friend in Germany, I will be writing about the aftermath. Looking back, it was like one big, long amazing dream that lasted for 5 months, and only now I have awoken. And let me tell you, it's a rude awakening.

Upon arriving back in the States I was filled with a mix of semi-unexplained emotions. One thing was for sure, I felt confident. A confidence I haven't felt in a very, very long time. It was like I was on cloud nine and nothing could bring me down. I felt like I could take on the world. But I also felt a sadness of having to let go of this new life I built in a foreign country. I knew I felt this sadness but I didn't want to face it. Needless to say I did the one thing I do best, the thing I berate others for doing, because as a psychologist in the making I know it's an unhealthy thing to do. I ignored it. I ignored it for as long as I possibly could until finally I had to admit it to myself. I know it's my downfall, so I'm trying this new thing where I try and figure out this jumble of emotions instead of letting them build, and build until they finally come up which usually results in a huge mess. (Wow, could I sound anymore like a girl? )

I'm trying to take the healthy route. And for me, I think that is writing and diving into a good book. It's also admitting the things that I wish weren't true, like: I am sad that my dream is over. And here's the big one that I wish with all my heart wasn't true, buy hey, here's to being honest with myself. I feel almost as self conscious as I did before I left for Spain. (For those of you who don't know...that's pretty bad). I don't know where it went, but all I know is I want it back, and I'm not exactly sure how to get it. I guess that comes from within, and it's something I have to figure out on my own, but the idea of backsliding into that insecure person I was before I left scares the living hell out of me. And that my friends, is the gods honest truth.


Also, like the many other masses, I am up against my last year of undergraduate college. That means I have to make a big decision in the next, oh, 3 or 4 months. I need to choose a field of psychology, choose a school/location and a person to be my mentor for the next 2 years of my life. I know what some of you may be thinking, "well that's silly, that's not a lot of time at all" and yes, I know that. However, I put some thought into it and weighed my options. And please let me know if I have neglected any options that should be slapping me in the face. I thought of three major ones. One, I could take a year off, get a job somewhere, preferably in a big city and get some more training and a feel for what I want to do. Two, go straight into grad school and hope for the best. And three, take a year off completely and get a shitty job I don't care about in a town I don't care about. The fact of the matter is, I'm terrified of being stuck, especially in this awful, awful town called Amsterdam. I'm a bit scared that I wont be able to find an interesting enough job with just my undergrad degree in a baller city that has anything to do with a field of psychology that I may like. So, I guess it's straight to grad school. Maybe the best choice. Maybe not. I just hate the idea of my life being planned out, I am not the kind of person that enjoys that idea. In fact, it makes me want to run...probably another character flaw of mine that's starting to surface.

But who knows, I just have to remember that everything works out in the end...right?

Where am I?

Yesterday was the one week mark being back in the States. Even though this particular journey has sadly come to a close, I decided I would like to keep this blog going. Now, it will be a post blog on my thoughts on being back and maybe some highlights of my summer. Who knows what this blog may turn into over time and what other journeys may come my way, and that, that thought really excites me. What other journeys could this mad white women get into?

Everything happened so fast. One minute I'm living my life, enjoying my life, in the beautiful city of Madrid and the next I'm saying goodbye to everyone, everything. It felt like in a blink of an eye everything I grew to love was gone, literally ripped out from under me. The next thing I knew I was sobbing, holding my friends, so desperately not wanting to let go for fear of not knowing when the next time I would see them again, if ever. The next thing I knew I was at the airport, waving goodbye to my host mom and host sister, checking my bags for an 8 hour flight back to JFK. The next thing I knew I was landed, turning on my smart phone, not knowing how to feel greeting my family with a mixture of excitement, shock and sadness. The next thing I knew I was looking out the car window at the tall buildings of New York City that I've seen many times before, but they all looked different, they looked foreign. I felt foreign in my own country. I still do sometimes.

Then there was really no time to adjust to the severe jet lag, because I was off to Rochester for my first ever wedding that wasn't a family member, a bit of a milestone that made me feel kinda old for a second. Yes, I know I'm not that old, but I realized this will be the first of many invitations to come in the mail. My friend Kevin whom I met in Oswego was tying the knot with his long time girlfriend. It was a lovely ceremony and a fun reception full of dancing and gin and tonics. It was a great mini getaway to follow a long getaway, but by the end of it I was exhausted mentally and physically.

After it was back to that Amsterdam grind. Hearing the 'welcome homes' and seeing friends again, trying to come up with fun distractions to pass the time. I don't want to sound stuck up, but coming from Madrid where we could do and plan a numerous amount of fun things for every single day without ever being bored, to Amsterdam is quite depressing.

When I say one minute I was living my life, and the next I was on a plane, I really do mean it. It was my new life, and by the end of it I was so used to that new life the sudden change left me asking myself sometimes, "Where am I?"

But I know I can't sulk in these sad feelings forever, I need to face this change with a positive attitude just like when I went into it. I learned a huge lesson, and some little ones as well, and they are coming full circle.

This is life, as cheesy and corny as that sounds, and as sad as it is to say goodbye, there are always new hellos waiting around the corner...which you eventually might have to say goodbye to...such a vicious cycle isn't it?  

I did it.

I did it. We did it. As I'm sitting here for the last time in my kitchen, drinking my last morning cafe con leche, about to leave for the airport in an hour, I can't believe this time is coming to an end. It is such a weird mix of feelings I'm not sure I'll be able to write them down. But I'll try.

Don't get me wrong, I am excited to see my friends and family. But saying goodbye to my friends, my Spanish family and this country is one of the hardest things I've had to do. It's apart of me now, apart of my life that I will never forget.

This experience itself is so hard to put into words and I'm rushing to put them down because the clock is ticking and before I know it I'll be on that plane back to the States.

I am so fortunate enough to have so many great memories here. Really, nothing bad happened during my stay here. I didn't get robbed (except if you want to count the couple of times someone tried to rip me off at a store or restaurant because they thought I was a tourist, but I set them straight), all my trips outside of Madrid went smoothly (don't want to jinx it now), my host family turned out to be amazing (we were their first exchange students, and to be from America, now that's pretty tough), and I made some absolutely incredible friends from all over the world. There are countless moments where I would be in a situation and sit back and say to myself, "Is this really happening to me? Look at us, sitting here from all parts of the world from different languages and backgrounds, forming a bond that not many people will understand."

Really the only downsides were when I got strep throat and of course, the university. CAUTION: UEM may cause laziness, lack of motivation, nausea, depression but most of all you probably wont learn very much.

I found myself in situations that were straight from a dream. Like star gazing on a roof in Granada, walking the Plaza de España in Sevilla, meeting up with old friends in Germany, England and Ireland, sitting on a beach in Mallorca and so much more. Having my friends from the States here too was really special to me as well because they got a glimpse of my life here.

Well there are really a whole bunch of things that I would like to say, but ahora I have to embark on that gran, strange journey home. This truly has been, a journey of a mad white woman.

Hasta luego.

I piss red, white, and blue

I've been thinking a lot about my time here in Spain as it's coming to a close very fast, faster than I would like. I asked my roommate Jenna, if you could sum up this whole experience in one word what would it be? "Roller coaster." I 100% agree. Like I said in a previous blog, studying abroad in a country with a different language is a completely different experience, mainly with the different culture and the roller coaster of a process it is when learning the language. One moment you can have all the confidence in the world, whether it be because you were able to give a pedestrian on the street correct directions in Spanish or having a nice conversation with your host family. A second later you confidence can easily be crushed by any number of reasons.

Jenna and I also realized the other day walking back from the bus stop down our street which we have probably done hundreds of times now, that it has been a roller coaster for another specific reason as well. It was as if the thought slapped me right in the face, for the past 5 months it was like we had the feeling of being ashamed we were American. Literally trying to hide it as much as we could, trying to seem less American and more Spanish, which is pretty ridiculous now that I think about it. I mean don't get me wrong, I think assimilation is important in other countries, but to feel ashamed where you come from, now that's bullshit. I started screaming in the street like a crazy person, "No! I'm not ashamed, I'm PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN!" To which Jenna said, and I don't think I'll ever forget this, "I piss red, white and blue!" Such a perfect line for how we were feeling at the moment.

Enough of my antics and disturbing the peace in el bosque, since I wrote I've had a very busy schedule trying to fit all the last minute things I want to do before I cross that big polluted ocean to New York. I went to Avilla, Spain which is only about an hour from Madrid by bus. It's a very small town and it's main attraction is a huge wall that surrounds just about the whole town, and you can walk on top of it. My friends and I had a nice day walking around, taking in the history and having some good Italian food believe it or not.

Next was an action packed weekend full of bullfights and fútbol...can you guess which one was the more enjoyable one for me? I knew going into it that they were going to kill a bull, what I didn't know that my friend Rory informed me of is, it wouldn't just be one but six bulls. Oh boy...I tried to prep myself, but it didn't work. I ended up crying after the first bull. I know, I know, call me a softie or wherever you want, but the whole process of the bull dying was so obvious and just too much for me. You could see the blood, the bull getting weaker and weaker, breathing heavier, and the final twitch when they move the sword around to make sure it's dead was all too intense. I just felt like I had all the wrong reactions. I wasn't expecting the mass amounts of people, I knew bull fights were still popular, but the stadium was packed with people shoulder to shoulder. I don't think there was a free stop, and the stadium is huge. Everyone would be cheering when a matador would get a sword in the bull on the first try and I would just be sitting there is disbelief. I will say what was really cool is the matadors were on horseback, and I have never seen a horse move like that before. That was impressive. But overall bullfights were just not for me, I wanted to go since it's still a huge part of Spanish tradition. In a way I am glad that I went to at least experience it, and now I know...even if the little kids there probably made fun of me for crying. 

Sunday night was probably one of the coolest things I've done here in Spain. My friends and I went to Madrid's final game of the season at the  Estadio Santiago Bernabéu, Madrid V. Mallorca. It was madness. We had descent seats as well, so that made the experience even better. Of course Madrid won, 4-1. After the game there was a huge celebration on the field and Madrid was awarded the 32nd trophy en la liga. All the players and coach came out, and the fans went nuts. They act like they are gods, not futbol players. The whole experience was so amazing, the energy and the atmosphere is something I will never forget. 

Last weekend I went to Sevilla, Spain for a girls weekend and some sight seeing. Of course, weather report was rain all weekend because it seems like every time we plan a trip it is supposed to rain. We really lucked out though, it only rained when we first got in and then right when we were leaving to go back to Madrid. We left Friday night and got to Sevilla at 7am after a seven hour bus ride, although it was supposed to be six but we had some bus problems. We couldn't check into our hostel right away since it was so early so we went cafe hopping...yep exactly how it sounds. A snack here, a coffee there, until we could check in at 11. When we finally were able to, I was surprised by how nice the rooms were. Very clean, with our own bathroom and a locker for our things. We hit the streets for some exploring until a flamenco show later at night. It was the best flamenco show I've ever seen, it literally took my breath away. We were so close I got sweated on a little bit. Since flamenco started around Sevilla, I figured the show would be good, but it was far beyond my expectations. After the show we had a lovely Spanish meal and then just went back to the hostel since we were exhausted from the bus ride. Next day was our free walking tour with our tour guide Phillipo. I've had nothing but great experiences with these free walking tours. I think it's because they work for trips so they try to make it as interesting as possible. I highly recommend it if you're traveling and you see a flyer or something for a free walking tour to take up the opportunity. I guarantee it will be worth your while. One of the highlights was the Plaza de España, absolutely amazing, plus it's where Naboo was filmed for the second Star Wars which made it that much more awesome.

Now as I'm writing this blog I'm sitting on my friend Katharina's porch in Germany. Germany is absolutely beautiful, I didn't really know what to expect in terms of landscape, but especially where Katharina lives it's full of lush trees and rolling hills and it really makes for a picturesque town. This will be my last big trip and I'm so grateful I got to see her before I leave. We started off in Koblenz where she goes to school which resulted in a nasty hang over, now in her hometown of Pforzheim then off to Stuttgart for the day with her brother Alex. Oh, and I tried spätzle! Unfortunately I leave tomorrow and it's back to school and all the work my professors decided to leave until the end of the semester to give.

Every time I think of how little time I have here it gives me almost a panicked feeling. I do miss my friends and family, but it's a bit weird to think about going back. I'm used to my life here and I'm not ready to say goodbye to everything. More on that thought when I finish some of this school work. Until then, auf wiedersehen.   

Streptococcal pharyngitis

Damn you. You got me, and you got me good. I'm pretty sure that was partially my fault since I waited so long to go to the doctors. Woops, I guess I learned my lesson.

On Monday, after feeling sick for about 6 days, I asked my host mom to take me to the doctors. She took me to the local ER in Villaciosa, and after waiting in line for a bit, the receptionist told us they could not treat me because I was a non-European citizen. It was back to plan A which was going to the doctors at my school. I tried an ER first because I thought whatever I had might be a little too serious for a school doctor since you usually go there for the minor cough and runny nose type stuff. But I didn't know where else to go, and started to get nervous because if the doctors in Villa wouldn't take me, there would probably be other places who wouldn't take me as well. Well it turns out the school doctor couldn't technically treat me either, and only did because they felt bad. Now there's a story to bring back to the States.

Turns out UEM never gave me my card to be treated my their on campus doctors, which apparently is pretty important. I only had my insurance card from home, and the one Oswego mailed me which are pretty much useless. Good to know now. There's a number on the back of the Oswego card that you're supposed to call and they refer you to doctors that will take your type of insurance that are in your area, but I learned this bit of knowledge after the fact. I was delirious and seemed to have forgotten everything I was told before leaving about insurance and getting sick in a foreign country. I'm extremely lucky that it all worked out.

The doctor took my temperature, examine my lymph nodes (my neck and cheeks were so puffy and swollen), and checked my throat, oh and slapped me on the wrist for waiting so long to come in. Luckily I didn't have a fever, surprising since I felt like I was literally on fire. Unluckily, she told me I had really bad strep throat and prescribed me and antibiotic.

Today's Thursday and I'm still not 100% but I feel so much better. There is barely any swelling, my tonsils are getting back to normal and it's not excruciating anymore to take the smallest sip of water or tea. I was down for the count for a while there, and getting better just in time for the mounds of school work I have to do.

I can't thank my host family and roommate enough, they took such great care of me. I have heard of a couple horror stories here about students and their awful host families and I just feel so bad for them. I can't imagine being in a situation like that. I am so lucky to have the living situation that I have, I wouldn't change it for the wold. Our host brother came by yesterday to take pictures of our rooms because a girl from Mexico is study abroad next semester and is interested in staying here. So weird to think about.

One of my worst semi-dramatic nightmares

It's happened. One of the top things I was worried about for my study abroad trip, the list going something like:  -being mugged
 -losing my passport
 -having a crazy host family (or host lesbians, since I originally thought my host parents were two  women...something was obviously lost in translation)
 -having to use my insurance card...because that would mean I was extremely sick

Welp, not the worst thing that could happen on that list, but I am very sick. Although writing that list out does kinda put things into perspective and makes me realize things could be much worse, but it's my last month here and I don't to spend it like this. I figured I would get the usual head cold or travelers sickness once, maybe twice. Instead my body decided to skip the pussy shit and go straight to the hard stuff. I absolutely loathe the doctors, so for me to even think about going is a red flag right there. I'm under the impression that just about anything can be fixed with hot tea, airborne and sleep. Sadly it's been about 5 days now, and when the copious amounts of vitamins didn't work and I noticed spots on my tonsils I figure I'm going to have to cave and go to that germ infested cesspool they call the doctors office, or la oficina de doctor, which would be more accurate to what they call it.  

Guess it's part of the experience, there's just something about going to the doctors. Maybe it's because they can give you potentially bad news or maybe Spanish doctors terrify me even more. I've never had to look up words in a dictionary before to prepare for what I want to say. Words like tonsils (amígdalas) and lymph-nodes ( ganglio), so this is defiantly a learning experience. Yo estoy nerviosa! Hopefully all goes well, I'll update with the prognosis.

Home is where the...wait, where the hell am I?

I think it's time for me to write on the topic of homesickness. Complicated topic, that seems to be effecting a lot of my good friends here, thus making me think about the issue. Such as, the any number of reasons that puts this, I would say, unwanted side effect of traveling into motion. There are the obvious ones, missing friends and family or even, your shitty 1995 Oldsmobile cutlass supreme...But I can honestly say that I am not very homesick. Yes, of course I have a list of things I miss and my friends, family and car are on that list, but I have no doubt that I can finish my time here in a comfortable, sound state of mind. And I have to be quite honest, I'm actually very surprised by this.

Okay world, I have to tell you a very big secret, some of you may have known this, but majority of you probably don't know this. Aside from the main reasons for studying abroad: learning Spanish better, traveling and immersing myself in a different culture other than my own, I did it because I didn't think I could do it. I didn't think I was the type of person who could study abroad, and I wanted to prove myself wrong. Needless to say I was scared shitless. Just for a bit. It was a little rough the first week or so, especially with my rocky welcoming into this country, but it passed quickly. I guess I sort of had reverse homesickness. I felt it more at the very beginning when I was trying to get used to my new life here, but I am comfortable here now and am a bit nervous for when my life turns upside down again when I return home. Studying abroad in a country where they speak a different language is whole different cup of tea. Literally everything is different. I can see how that would be disconcerting for a lot of people, but I find it invigorating, a challenge I'm very happy that I took on. 

Title: Dysfunctional Family (Segovia) 

After my wonderful friends visited me in March I felt a bit homesick when they left, naturally since they are a reminder of home and a reminder of how much I miss them. It was tough saying goodbye, but I realized it wasn't goodbye, it was see you later.

So my dear friends here in Spain who are feeling the pangs of homesickness, let's be each others inspiration. We have done something great just by being here, let's finish strong and come out even stronger. We are in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, let's take the utmost advantage of that. Let's have fun and do what we came here to do. At least for me, that was to grow and learn. Sí se pueden mis amigos. Yes we can my friends.   

Where did all the motivation go

I cannot believe that I have surpassed the half way mark on my mad white journey here in Spain. I have less than two months here in Spain and there is still so much I want to do, but sadly, with little money to do it with. I have relearned the meaning of a poor college student here, and I have also relearned the meaning of 'bring just the valuables.' I remember last spring break, I traveled with the biggest suitcase I owned plus a carry on for just one week. Drastic change from this spring break; just one little backpack, the same backpack I use for school here, for over a week.

But back to the meaning of why I'm writing this blog in the first place. I have realized that I have this lack of motivation here that I don't have in the States. I mean, I have a motivation to learn, to travel and experience new things. Obviously, everyone gets that feeling sometimes where they don't want to go to class, they're tired and would rather be doing other things. But I really think the root cause of this feeling of lack of motivation comes from this university here. Oh, Universidad Europea de Madrid, how I hate you. I perpetually never want to go to class, I loath the idea of going and it literally makes me angry. Back at home, yes there are times I don't feel like going to class, but nothing like this. In Oswego, I'm always doing something with school whether it's class (things that I'm actually interested in), clubs and organizations, meetings, work and going/helping out with programs; I'm always busy. Here I just don't have that. I'm not interested in any of my classes, and they only serve to help me learn the language better. The material is excruciatingly boring and difficult to sit through, and classes here are 2 hours long which makes it that much worse. I think it's also because I'm not taking any Psychology classes which is obviously an issue for me. Good thing that will change next semester. I was literally excited to make my schedule for fall, that's how bad it is! I'm hoping this will pass, or change, or something. I've been working out again because that usually helps, and I want a hot bod for summer, but it hasn't really so far. Maybe it's this whole laid back culture where there are no to-go cups that's sucking up my motivation. Although, I am a procrastinator at heart, and work better under pressure. Who knows.

I'm also readying this super depressing book for one of my classes called, "Half the Sky: Turning Oppression Into Opportunity for Women Worldwide." The book itself isn't well written. Two journalists,Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn are the authors and it reads too much like a really long news article. Either way, the stories of the women they tell and of the horrific conditions for women in developing countries is unbelievably heart wrenching, and makes me feel like utter shit for sitting here reading about it rather than doing something about it. The book focuses on three main uplifting topics (sarcasm), Sex trafficking/rape, maternal mortality and bride burning (and other extreme domestic  violence issues). Of course, to really drive the point home, they tell of specific women's horror stories in places like Ethiopia, Africa and India.

Where did all the motivation go to help these people?

Muh-llorca

This past weekend, a group of friends and I went to the beautiful island of Palma, Mallorca off the coast of Spain. I would later realized I cannot pronounce Mallorca for the life of me, pronouncing it: My-llorca. Maybe it's those wretched Amsterdam "a's" I can't seem to shake. Damn you upstate New York! You make me sound funny.

Anyways, I was envisioning some fun in the hot sun, swimming in the ocean and maybe even getting a nice tan. Although there was sun, it was not very hot, and unfortunately we were hit with some rain. However, less rain than we expected which was a plus, since upon looking up the weather for our trip the forecast read rain for the whole weekend. In the end it only rained for a short bit on Friday and on Sunday. Even though I didn't come back with a tan and it was too cold to swim, we all had an amazing time.

After being a bit delaying, the nine of us including myself, were greeted by the interesting mix of signs in the airport. We would later discover these types of signs would not only be in the airport because Mallorca has a huge population of Germans and English speaking peoples. It was a bit of a shock to see signs with Spanish, Catalan, German and English all in one. My host mom mentioned there are a lot of Germans, but I didn't know they would make up a large part of the population. Not only have I never experienced such a predominant mix of people, I have never been to and island before. Overall, I decided that although it was incredibly beautiful, and the water was clearest I've ever seen, I could never actually live on and island. It almost didn't feel real the whole time I was there, like it wasn't real life. I could definitely vacation on an island, but not live there permanently. Also, eventually I think I would feel trapped, surrounded by water and only being able to use a plane as a means of transportation to get anywhere else (duh, but you catch my drift). Hmm feeling trapped and semi-claustrophobic...I wonder where that stems from. Really though, I'll have to do some thinking about that.

 
Yay! I've been trying to add pictures to my blog, but this is the first time it's worked :) So now if anyone actually does read this thing you don't have to just read my shitty writing, you can look at pictures as well!
This is the view from the top of La Almudaina (the royal palace), on our first day. Que bonita!

This is the train we took to the other side of the island on the second day to a town called Soller. It's been running since 1912, and you can tell not only by the way it looks but by it's speed. Even though we were only going roughly 30 miles per hour, we got to Soller in a little under an hour, just to give you an idea about the train and how small the island is, and Mallorca is the largest island among the Balearic Islands. Inside I felt like I was on the set of Harry Potter and on my way to Hogwarts. We lucked out and the weather was beautiful and we arrived to this: 

A couple of my friends and I got to play some frisbee on the beach, thanks to Taylor who brought a disc. I miss frisbee a lot, so it was nice to play, let alone on an awesome beach by the ocean. Taylor and I taught our friends from Mexico how to throw a little bit since it's not a sport in Mexico, they were a bit unsure how to play but I think they had a good time.

Next day came the rain and the caves. We decided to go to a nearby town called Génova to see some caves we heard about online. Well this nearby town turned into quite an adventure. None of the bus drivers knew what or where we were talking about, resulting in us waiting at the bus stop for over an hour. Finally after calling the people who worked at the caves we got a general idea of where we had to get off the bus we needed to be on. Unfortunately, we missed the stop anyways and had to walk a bit in the rain. We started seeing some signs for the cave, but when were arrived at a restaurant we were a bit confused. It turns out the owners of the restaurant give tours of the cave as well, so an old Spanish man led us underground, and the end result was worth the wait and walking in the rain. The caves were really impressive, although our old Spanish guide was not much of a guide. I think since there was a mix of English, German and Spanish among our group he was really trying to simplify the explanations and history of the caves. 

A little exhausting coming back, but a great trip with some great friends. What's getting a little disconcerting is I am quickly running out of money and time here in Europe. There is still so much I want to see with little funds to do it with. I've been doing it the cheapest way possible thus far, RyanAir and hostelworld.com have become my new best friends, but still the expenses add up quickly. So hopefully I will be able to pull off a couple more trips before I leave, here's so hoping.   

    

 

Owners of half of all the poo

I made it back from an amazing Semana Santa all in on piece...surprisingly. Que horror fue el aeropuerto durante la huelga. It was seriously like a scene from 'Dawn of the Dead' or something. Scary shit man.

Our lovely host sister dropped us off at the airport since there were minimal buses and metro. When we walked in, it was the quietest I have ever heard an airport, aside from say being in one in the middle of the night. All that was left was the hundreds upon hundreds of flyers and garbage the protesters left behind reading: '10 razones para la reforma del trabajo' meaning 10 reasons for work reform. Walking further into the terminal we started seeing more people sitting against walls, probably for hours and many hours to come, waiting for a flight to where ever they were supposed to go. The news said about 1 in 10 flights would be cancelled so Jenna and I were surprised when we saw our flight was one of the few that was not cancelled. Maybe since we were going to Dublin, and RyanAir is an Irish owned airline. Then we were hit with the enormous lines. I think there were only two people working at the check in and baggage for RyanAir, and since they have a policy that all non-European Union citizens need their boarding pass stamped or else they are not allowed on the plane, there in this enormous line we had to wait. We were inching oh so slowing to the front when I turn and am staring directly at my friend Allan. He just seems to pop up everywhere, it was quite funny. Shortly after we ran into Allan someone finally started a line for people who only needed their boarding pass stamped. Thankfully so, since I'm not sure we would of made our flight if we had to stay in the original line. Then off to security, which was infinitely faster, and only a short wait until we were on our plane to Dublin. It was my first experience with RyanAir and I really can't complain much other than the bag restrictions, which they gave me no problem with since they seem to ignore passengers with backpacks, and every two minutes there's an announcement for some absurd thing, or not so absurd thing they are selling. I heard a lot of negatives about the airline before my trip, but for the prices I think it's defiantly worth it.

Just 2 hours later we arrived at the Dublin airport and took a bus to our hostel. It was called the Dublin International Youth Hostel, which used to be a church and it was very obvious at the sight of the interior with the high ceilings and stain glass windows where breakfast was served.  It was cheap, surprisingly clean and only a 15 minute walk from the city center, but just in that short walk our hostel was in a pretty sketchy location. It was fine during the day, but at night I didn't feel 100% safe. Luckily nothing happened, aside from a creepy, yet semi-attractive Norwegian guy following us to our hostel until we told a group of Irish people he was bothering us and they gladly took care of it. So nice those Irish are.

First night we met up with my friend Mallory from back home who is studying in Dublin, and Jenna and I got our first taste of the night life in Temple Bar. The first challenge was actually finding Temple Bar since we accidentally took a left instead of a right, and I felt like the stereotypical tourist when I finally had to ask for directions to the biggest party spot in Dublin. I imagined they heard that high pitched, annoying 'biddie' voice the guys back home like to say I sound like. "Umm...like where's Temple Bar??"

I would say very successful night with Jenna, Mallory and her roommate Mona at a lovely club called 'The Button Factory' and lucky us, it was hip-hop night equipped with all the classics. So much fun. The next day, pretty hung over, I ate the best egg and cheese bagel of my life at a local corner store called 'Centra' and then it was off to the Dublin Zoo to watch some penguin sex. Not the reason we went, but we did in fact see some penguin sex until it was feeding time where they promptly stopped, typical. It was a very nice zoo, it had some of my favorite animals like giraffes and hippos, but zoos tend to make me a bit sad. It's weird to me to go and gawk at what are supposed to be wild animals in their 'natural habitat' and they never look happy or their sleeping. Also, tons of crying children. But this was defiantly one of the better zoos I've been to. Then we went back to the Temple Bar area, had the biggest cup of coffee I've had in a long time and listened to the street performers. That was one of my favorite parts about the trip was all the street performers and live music everywhere. One day shit got real when Jenna and I were watching this guy singing and playing the guitar, when a huge bachelor group came up and started singing and having fun with the singer. A most likely intoxicate, crazy homeless girl came up and tried to pick pocket one of the guys in the group. When he realized what she was doing he literally dropped that bitch to the ground with her face against the pavement, when the homeless girl's friend run up and pushed him off her. There was a bit of a scuffle and the police and ambulance coincidentally arrived to pick a man in a nearby restaurant called the 'Bad Ass Cafe' (such an awesome name). It was quite the sight to see.

The next day we went to the seven story Guinness Factory, where we got to pour 'the perfect pint' for ourselves. So much Guinness! Actually, if I had to sum up the whole trip for Ireland it would probably be Guinness. It was actually quite interesting learning how they make it and the whole process that goes into it. On the top floor is the gravity bar, and you can see the whole city from inside. It was a really nice day, and not raining for once in Ireland, which made the view so incredible. That night I convinced Jenna to go to 'The Hunger Games' with me at a theater on O'Connell street. I was so excited! The movie was really good, true to the book and I may have cried a little...So worth it, I would have had to wait until  mid-April to see it in Spain, and maybe even longer to find a theater that would show it in English. I don't mind watching movies in Spanish, just not movies I would pay to see in theaters because the over dubbing drives me crazy.

Sunday we went on a free walking tour of Dublin through 'Sandeman's New Europe.' It's this group that does tours for free in major cities, there's on in Madrid as well. I was so impressed with the tour since it was so good and it was free. Our tour guide, Richie, was a funny Irishman who really new his shit about the city he grew up in. Considering he was college student majoring in history I guess he would have to. We were one of the bigger groups he's had, and a diverse one at that. People from all over the world, and surprising a lot of Spaniards, both visiting and living there. Our host mom mentioned that a lot of Spanish people were moving to Ireland to look for work, but I was surprised by how much Spanish I heard. We actually ended the tour at a restaurant for some authentic Irish food with two lovely Spanish girls who just moved to Dublin 2 weeks prior. It was great to have a nice conversation in Spanish since Jenna and I were a bit worried about not speaking the language for over a week. We also had two Spanish roommates in our hostel the last night we were in our hostel from Barcelona. Anyway, we hit up the hot spots of Dublin on our tour like the Dublin Castle, Trinity College, the Chester Beatty library and more. After, since we were both running out of money fast we just walked around and listened to this live band that is usually at this local bar called 'Quays.' What I found interesting was that the weekends tended to be more for the older crowd and weekdays for the younger people. But it was so great to see older people out having a good time and just enjoying life and dancing. Everyone in Dublin seemed really happy and friendly, except for one weird guy who heard Jenna and I talking and asked if we were from America, and when we said yes, he seemed to be disapproving of the fact. Our final day was spent checking out of our hostel, getting Jenna's hair cut in a sketchy Asian hair salon and getting to the airport where Jenna and I would part ways, her to London and me to Liverpool.

The flight was the shortest flight I've ever experienced, about 30 minutes. I literally close my eyes for what felt like a second, and was awoken by the feeling of a landing plane. I was so excited to see my friends Chris and Alex, I almost didn't know what to expect after not seeing them for a year. They were on the bus when I got to the arrival area in the airport so I decided to get some subway. While in line I heard, "Crystal?" and turn around a low and behold there is Chris and Alex just the same as they were a whole year ago, only the minor changes you see when you look back on pictures of yourself from prior years and you can tell a difference, but only slight alterations. We burst into a hug, and almost into tears for me I was so excited. Then we subsequently annoyed the subway workers because we were too caught up in asking each other questions to finish our orders. Sorry subway workers. We finally got our food and sat down to catch up. Yes, obviously after a year some things change, this person doesn't hang out with this person anymore, this person moved, this person dropped out, the usual. But talking to them, it was almost like no time had passed, which was great because I was wondering what it would be like going back without the American gang there.

Next stop, Chris's apartment with a quick stop at a tequila bar in Liverpool for a proper welcoming. Four tequila shots later, one of them being chili flavored thanks to Alex, we were back on our way to Ormskirk. They kept saying that they had dessert waiting for me, knowing them I knew it wouldn't be your typical dessert. When we got to Chris's they blind folded me with my scarf, led me to the kitchen and said to open my mouth (I know, this sounds so bad haha). I got a mouth fully of 'jelly' a.k.a jello shots. They made so much dessert, there were shot glasses and tupperware  bowls full of jelly. And that was just the beginning of a night full of beer pong and going out to bars. I never thought I would be so happy to play beer pong since first of all, I'm not very good, and second of all I didn't play that often in the States. I guess it's that whole thing of not being able to have it, you miss it more. After playing beer pong we went out to a bar and this is where it gets a little hazy. The bar closed a bit early, but Chris and Alex were talking with this guy they met who said he owned a bar around the corner and said we could do a lock-in. It was so much fun, I've never done a lock-in before so this was a first for me. We all walked around the corner and he opened his bar for us, drank, danced and played pool. End result, having loads of fun and figuring out I don't get better at playing pool the drunker I get. Overall, very successful first night if I do say so myself.

Next couple of days were spent relaxing, watching 'Anchorman' which I wanted to do for a long time now, and revisiting some clubs from my last spring break in England. Although, probably not the best idea to go to a club the night before Chris and I planned on going to his hometown of Blackpool the next morning. Needless to say, even if we didn't have troubles with the train, we still wouldn't have got there at the time we planned. When we arrived, it was a bit cold, but the sun was shinning for our walk on the promenade and pier. Blackpool it right next to the ocean, and sort of like New Jersey but with an English twist...or maybe it's just the accent. Chris was telling me they recently redid the promenade, and it shows, it looked very sleek and new. It would be nice to be there in the summer time, but at least I got to touch the sand on the beach :)    

Afterward we made our way to Chris's house where we had a lovely dinner of fish n' chips with his family. Such nice people bless them. Great food, with great people and conversation. Later at night we went to a local bar with Chris's girlfriend. It was so nice going to his hometown and visiting the places he likes to go to, showing me his world basically, since pretty soon we will be showing him our world when he comes to visit America for a month during the summer. Oh, I can only imagine what a month that will be like, or what we will remember from it. Chris and I were both exhausted after the past couple of days in Ormskirk, so after the bar closed we called it a night and I slept for about 11 hours straight, only to be awaken by Chris, who was awaken by his mom. We got ready to go back to Chris's apartment for my final night in England. We spent it at Liquid and Alpine, and it was such a blast. I danced my face off and got hit on by a lesbian who was convinced one day we would do 'Wife Swap' together. The thought of leaving was really sad, and it was a sad goodbye the next day at the airport. I had such an amazing time, and such an amazing spring break I didn't want it to end. Two years in a row I spent spring break in England, hopefully the trend will continue.

So thank you all for showing me a beautiful time. I can honestly say I will never forget this spring break for reasons listed, and reasons not listed.  

¡Tranquilo por favor!

Madre mia, what an emotional...ride (Scrubs reference). I was actually surprised, and super excited, when I was clicking through the channels and saw Scrubs on TV. It is still sort of unbelievable when I come across things that remind me of home, it is not as frequent as one might think. Any how...emotional roller coaster.

Some background: this coming week is my spring break, here in Spain it's called semana santa. For our break Jenna and I decided we would book tickets for half the time in Dublin and half in England. We also decided we would get a head start on our spring break by leaving this Thursday instead of Friday or the weekend for a couple of reasons. One reason being flights were way cheaper to leave during a week day, and another is I do not have class on Fridays. Well, about a week or so ago we received news about a nation wide Strike in Spain this Thursday, meaning meaning minimal services such as buses, metro and planes since workers can choose not to show up. Basically meaning, we were fucked.

Jenna and I have been freaking out for days trying to figure something out. So much unknown! We didn't know if we would have to buy new plane tickets, if we would be delayed or on a different flight, how this would effect our hostel (when we actually found one). We even went to the airport to try and find out some answers. Finally on Wednesday our good friend Allan saved the day and sent me a link with all the cancelled flights for RyanAir, and thankfully we were not on it. In a matter of minutes, (not even joking, under 5 minutes), we realized our flight was on time, and booked a hostel and payed for it. Que loco!    

Now the next challenge: fitting my life into one small backpack. I thought two suitcases was bad enough, but this was a whole new level. RyanAir has crazy policies on cabin baggage, and even check baggage. The bag has to be 55cm x 40cm x 20cm and a laundry list of things you can and cannot bring. It was quite the challenge but I think we did it. This trip is really changing my packing habits, for the better I would say. I'm learning what I actually need to bring, and things that are not so important...like shoes and underwear. Just kidding.

In just 2 hours I will on my way to the airport, thanks so our lovely host sister for driving us, so exciting! My first trip outside of Spain, so far it's been many trips within Spain. First stop, Dublin for 4 days then England till Saturday. I'll try and update as soon as I get back with my wild and wacky adventures. Until then, hasta luego.

I think I just swallowed some fire...

Since the last time I wrote I went to Granada for a weekend and my friends have come and gone back to the states.

Granada was so amazing! The people I went with and the hotel I stayed in were equally as amazing. My group of friends and I bought our tickets through the cultural center (el coliseo) in our town for a great deal. It included transportation, two lunches and a breakfast, stay at a hotel and entrance into museums. We wondered who else would be on the trip since there were enough tickets for two buses. We discovered the morning of the trip that aside from a handful of others, we were the only ones under the age of, oh I would say, 50 years old, which would coin us, 'los jovenes' (young people) for the rest of the trip. It got to the point where if I heard someone say los jovenes one more time I was ready to punch a viejo. For the most part they were all really quite nice, an 'I love the young people' bunch of folks. It was just the annoying reference they pinned to us that got to me a bit. Nevertheless, I was extremely pleased with the organization of the trip, and what we managed to pack into two days plus travel time.

First we checked into our rooms at the lovely four star hotel Carmen. I'm sure it would of been really funny to watch us try to figure out how to turn on the lights...I'm sure that could turn into a cheesy joke real fast. Hint: we had to keep our room card in a slot above the main light switches. Then we had a huge buffet style lunch at the hotel, so good after a long bus ride. Then it was off to a walking tour around the city of Granada. The architecture is so breathtaking, and half the city is built into the side of a mountain. I can honestly say I've never seen anything like it. We walked around the extremely narrow streets, shopping in what looked like a scene straight out of a Bollywood film, and ate some delicious tapas and croquetas. Then the people from the coliseo gave us the option of going to a flamenco show for 18 euros, including entrance fee and a drink, so we decided to go. Although everyone on the stage had talent, it was not like the flamenco show I remember seeing when I first came to Spain. For the most part I felt it was very choreographed and a bit too flashy. To me, good flamenco is raw and spontaneous. They did have a ballin' flutist and vocalist though. We got back pretty late, and we were very tired from the drive. But with the brilliant idea of our friend Taylor, we decided to see if we could get on the roof. And we could (the door was wide open in fact). Words cannot describe. We could see all of Granada lit up, including the spectacular La Alhambra. We stayed up there for a while just talking just staring in awe, taking pictures. I really don't think I'll ever forget it. The next day we went to the La Alhambra instead of just admiring it at night. So big! And so impressive! (That's what she said...am I allowed to do that in my own blog?) It took hours for us to walk through it all, and that was at a decent pace. After we ate lunch and then in was back on the bus to Villaviciosa. When we finally pulled up to the colisea my bag felt a little wet...and smelled a little bit like the rum I brought with me. The cap was unscrewed a bit and did a little damage. I was a little worried since it is my school bag and I didn't want my professors to think I was a drunk, so I dowsed it in body spray. It did it's job of masking the smell of cheap alcohol.

Nothing really exciting happened after that until Dom, Sarah and Dave came! SO happy they made the trip, it was a blast. Since my friend Rory's friend was also visiting at the same time, we all spent a lot of time together. I'm so glad I got to show them the city of have fallen in love with in such a short time, to show them places I like to hang out, eat, watch fútbol games and to introduce them to my host family and wonderful 'Spanish' roommate ;). As corny as it sounds, it was like I was showing them what is now a different part of my life, and I'm just so happy I got to experience it a little bit with them. During their visit they were able to taste my host families amazing paella for a big Sunday lunch. I'm not kidding, it's out of this world. It was at this lunch where Dom was bestowed the nickname 'borrachon' (drunkard). It was pretty funny, every time he asked for more water my host mom just gave him more wine. We went to the Reina Sofia for some modern art...and by modern art some of which was crumpled up pieces of paper and a projector click through some blank slides. But then of course there were the classics like Picasso's 'Guernica' which in my opinion is one of the best parts of the whole museum. Then after we went to a flamenco show, which was actually at the same place I went to in high school. It was definitely a redemption from the Granada show, so spectacular. We took a tour of the Real Madrid Santiago Bernabéu stadium, which was a first for me as well. We even got to sit in the teams chairs on the field! So weird to think my butt was in the same seat as a Real Madrid player. At the parque Retiro we rented some rowing boats and made a whirlpool...just kidding, but there was some spinning in circles for a bit. I got to show them one of my favorite places, Valle de los Caídos.  Took a day trip to Segovia where an ATM ate Dave's debit card and the lady who worked at the bank would not give it back without ID, some sort of silly protocol. Went the the museo del Prado on Friday, and Saturday Dave and Sarah left and then Sunday Dom left. Their trip was full of good whether, good times, sneaking into hostels (mostly on my part), food and lots of alcohol. We tried our first B52's, and I may have swallowed a little bit of fire. I had a blast and I hope they did as well. It was a little weird the next day or so without them here, and I miss them already. But I'm so grateful they came, thanks for coming lady and gentlemen!

Now it's back to reality and school. Although I did not have school yesterday since it was el dia del padre, Spain's fathers day, except it's 100 times more important here, I mean I got a day off of school because of it for christ's sake. So I had a typical Spanish day with my host family, first starting a cafeteria for drinks then back home for a big delicious meal. Unfortunately without Jenna since she was in Valencia for a huge festival called Las Fallas, so jealous! But lucky me, I got to hear all about my host brothers 13 day long bachelor party in Thailand, needless to say he discovered the 'shims' of Thailand...  

Are there glass shards in this?

So I realize that I'm pretty bad at this whole blogging thing since I haven't written in this thing for about a month now, whoops sorry. This is well overdue.

My birthday turned out pretty swell if I do say so myself. I didn't do 21 shots, but I did have some amazing sangria with some amazing friends. They really made my birthday special even they had only known me for a short while, I really hope they know how thankful I am. A special thanks to my host family as well, they bought me a delicious cheesecake and a lovely new scarf. My host sister even drove Jenna and I to and from the bar, such a big sister gesture. Kinda of a weird feeling since I've never known what that's like, me being the big sister and all back home.

Coming home from my birthday bash I was still in 'it's my birthday mode,' which is code for I still wanted to drink. I tried to crack open a bottle of wine that I bought that was only 0.90 euro cents! Yes I kid you not, you can buy wine for under a euro here, mind you, it probably wont be very good but hey, college students are not foreign to shitty cheap alcohol. Well, I literally cracked the bottle open with an equally cheap wine bottle opener I bought at a tienda de Chino (Chinese store...kind of like dollar general). Don't you think the name is a bit racist? Maybe I'm just surprised by the directness here since I come from a country that worries about being politically correct all the time. Anyways, in my semi-inebriated state I cracked the side of the bottle with the cork screw, but, successfully pulled the cork out. I poured some into a cup but hesitated and asked my roommate Jenna, 'are there glass shards in this?' We both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the question, and I ended up dumping out the bottle for fear of ripping my stomach lining. Well, at least it was only .90 euro cents down the drain.

The rest of orientation went well, with a trip to Toledo to end the opening week for exchange students. Toledo was just as I remember when I went in 10th grade. It is arguably like many Spanish cities, ancient looking with long, narrow winding roads, but there's something different about Toledo. Maybe for me it's the quaint shops on just about every street, or maybe it's in the air (corny, I know). Following the trip was my first experience at a disco. It was pretty much what I expected, a lot of fog and expensive drinks, nevertheless a lot of fun. I was actually surprised how much American music they played. I'm still taken aback by the American influence on music and movies here. We had to leave a bit early, and a bit early being around 3:30am, and the disco was still ragging. These Spaniards really do go hard.

Then it was on to the first week of classes...lets just say I didn't know the meaning of disorganized until I experienced my first week of classes at UEM. They kind of warned us to go with the flow the first week, but that was really sugar coating it. Classrooms would change literally last minute, resulting in people running around buildings looking for the right room (me being on of those people), professors wouldn't show up or would be extremely late. In one of my classes that I thought was a translation class, the teacher kicked me out because the office signed my up for an English learning class. In all, my schedule changed about three time in a span of two weeks because my classrooms where still changing well into the second week. I've never experienced such a thing when it came to college, coming from a university where punctuality is very important. I am still adjusting to 'Spanish time,' everyone is usually late for everything. I'm not going to lie, I'm usually late for just about everything as well, but school is the one thing I like to be punctual for and that is just not the case here. The exchange students later learned that most of the students usually just don't show up for the first week, and come the second when things are a bit more organized. Wish I got that memo.

Other than the initial crazy-ness, my final schedule didn't turn out too bad. I have one class in English, which will be learning and writing about a region of the world, and it turns out my region for the rest of the semester will be Europe so that just works out perfectly. My other three classes are in Spanish, history, literature, and comprehension and writing in the language. I'm glad the majority of my classes are in Spanish, I'm starting to feel improvements, especially in comprehending when people talk to me and watching TV. Hopefully it stays that way! I've come to the sad realization that I will not be fluent when I go back to the states. This whole process of learning the language is a lot harder than I expected, but I want to come back a hell of a lot better. It is easier than I thought to find a group of people that speak English, and to stay with what your comfortable with. But, it helps to have a host family that only speaks Spanish and meeting more friends from the area and Mexico. It also helps when Jenna and I speak to each other in Spanish to get in some practice and it sounds weird, but to gain some confidence. I've always felt less confident around native Spanish speakers, but I obviously need to break that habit. Yes, I will probably make a grammatical error, and yes, they will probably know I'm American from my accent, but at least I'm learning the language and that is one of the main reasons I'm here.

Next day trip was with Allen and Jenna to the Valle de los Caídos (valley of the fallen). It was one of my favorite places on my 10th grade trip so I was really excited to go back. It was way colder than I expected with some snow on the ground! But it was absolutely beautiful, the scenery is truly breathtaking. This past weekend Jenna, Rory, Carolina and I went to Segovia, which was SO much fun, and this coming weekend is Granada!

Oh and tomorrow is my host moms birthday dinner, cumpleños feliz Conchi!