RunAlona in Barcelona

Run. Run. Run.

I have been running around this beautiful city so much that I haven't stopped to look at what is around me. I run past Sagrada Familia like all the other Catalan people here, too busy to take notice. I dodge tourists and curse them under my breath for standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I have places to be, people!

I haven't just been running to class. I have been running. Actually running. And I hope to do more. I want to run a 5km race and maybe a 10 km race this summer with my sister. I have been running alone, which I generally prefer (to keep my own pace, and talking while running is so hard!)

Just have to make sure I am in shape, that's all!

Also, I've been eating a lot of veggies and hummus. So, so delicious! ... its making me hungry.... the kitchen isn't that far from my room... I think I'll go get some now!

Have a great day!

A Foodie's Life

BACON!!!

And Oreos!

That is my life today.

yum.

A Proper Cup of Coffee (to be read aloud, preferably with an audience)

They say that a proper cup of coffee from a proper copper coffee pot is all that I want. If all I want is a proper cup of coffee from a proper copper coffee pot then I should buy a proper copper coffee pot  to make my proper cup of coffee.

Well I didn't buy a proper copper coffee pot to make my proper cup of coffee but I did buy something to make a proper cup of coffee. To make my proper cup of coffee  I bought a French press, also known as a press pot or a coffee press.

So to make a proper cup of coffee from a proper coffee press, you put the proper coffee in the proper coffee press, fill with pleasantly piping water and practice patience. Once your proper coffee is properly coffee'd, properly press your coffee press' press to produce your proper cup of coffee from your proper coffee press. Pour your proper coffee from you proper coffee press into your proper coffee cup and properly cherish your new proper coffee press.


If you made it thorough this post, you deserve a proper cup of coffee.

Stay cheerful, friends.

I'm Sorry, Was I Standing In Your Way?

To the woman on the L5 today at 5:10,

If my presence on the metro is an inconvenience to you, you are welcome to pay for me to take a taxi to work.

If my holding on to the handrail so as not to risk falling down or bumping into anyone while on my short ride to my class is an inconvenience to you, you are welcome to pay for me to take a taxi to work.

And finally, if my body is in the space in which you deem necessary to occupy with your own body, and that of your friend, you are welcome to pay for me to take a taxi to work.

Otherwise, I will thank you to not try to walk through my body or any of my limbs while getting on the metro.

Sincerely,

The person who you tried to walk through today.



Yes, this actually happened. I would love to just call her the B-word and get on with my day, but this is actually how people here are. They have no concept of the people around them, and no consideration for the space they occupy and how that might affect the people around them. Just last week, I had a person put their arm, literally, infront of my face in order to hold on to the handrail in the metro.. Just ask dude, I don't want your arm hair tickling my nose. Also, its a full metro, so relax, your arm sweat is also not appealing.

The people here grow up without being told to mind the other people sharing space with them. Children are let free in restaurants and on metros, free to swing around, or run around, bump into things or people and not apologize. Just last week, again, a student of mine who is five kicked me in the shin. Her mother, standing right there, said the girl's name in a gentle warning voice and turned to me to apologize. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  If that was me and I kicked someone infront of my parents, I would be scolded, made to apologize and sent to the corner for a time out. All this kid got was an eye-roll. WHAT IS THAT GOING TO TEACH ANYONE?!

So I guess when I get angry at inconsiderate people on the metro, my response shouldn't be "some people, geez!" it should be "I'm sorry your parents did a terrible job of raising you, but could you grow up and get a clue?"

*sigh* and that is why I choose to walk with the wanderers on the sidewalk most of the time.

Morning Coffee

Living in Barcelona is wonderful. There is sun every day and no snow in the winter. Don't get me wrong, it's still cold, but it isn't so cold you can't go outside without adding a layer to every part of your body.

On cold mornings (well, most mornings), I like to wake up and have a coffee. If I could, I would have Starbucks latte's every day, or a café con leche, or some other fancy coffee. Since I can't afford that on my measly teacher's salary, I have adapted the usual double-double to suit me.

Coffee (if I had something to make drip coffee, I would do that, but instant is what I have to deal with for now)

Milk (a generous amount)

Honey or Maple Syrup (sweetness the way it was meant to be)

Cinnamon

Yes, I now add cinnamon to my coffee. It is wonderful. I have been debating experimenting with cayenne pepper as well, as I know that the Mayans put that in their hot chocolate to add some spice and it is delicious! (Soma Chocolates in Toronto's Distillery District does it and it is amazing!) So what happens when you put cayenne into coffee? We'll have to wait and see. For now, I'm enjoying cinnamon!

What do you add to your coffee?

Bacon-Wrapped Lifestyle

Bacon-Wrapped Pears.

With goat cheese.

And Cinnamon.

That is all.

I would just like to take this moment to remind you all that bacon makes everything better. Everything. You're having a bad day? Eat some bacon. You need a pick-me-up? Eat some bacon.
Not enough salt in your diet? Eat some bacon. Your class/ boss/ teacher/ husband/ wife/ brother/ sister/ boyfriend/ girlfriend/ third cousin once removed/ neighbour/ mechanic/ dentist/ therapist is giving you grief? Eat some bacon. You ate too much chocolate? You should have eaten bacon.

Cucumber.

Cream cheese.

Hot sauce.

Bacon.

If ever anyone wants to make something better, bacon is the answer. Pizza: Bacon. Baked Potato: Bacon. Sandwich: Bacon. Ice Cream: Bacon (and maple syrup... just saying). Steak: wrap it in bacon.

Seriously, anything that can be baked should be wrapped in bacon. Or have bacon sprinkled on it. There are even Caesars that come with bacon. I'm not kidding.

So when you next go to the grocery store, don't forget the bacon!

Blah Blah Blog

I bought coloured pens yesterday! There are six of them, all different colours!

They remind me of grades 6-10 where everything in my life was colour-coded by pen- homework, letters to friends, cards, notes passed in class (shhhh), my day planner and anything else that needed to be written down.

Wonderful!

Live happy people!

Rude about Food

Well, I don't really have much to say today. Except that it seems that I have to work on my acceptance of things being "the way they are".

Yesterday I had the worst experience I have ever had in a restaurant, EVER. Including working in one, and dealing with irate customers, screaming kids and Hockey teams.

My friend and I sat down, and ordered dos cervezas, una patatas bravas para mi, y un espegetti bolognas para ello. The two beers came after about five minutes. The spaghetti came about ten minutes after that, and the server (who is also the owner) just dropped it off with no words and didn't even look at us. Ten minutes after that, I went to ask about my bravas. "Umm.. patatas bravas" "Si, si, bravas." with a casual wave as if to say I'm pestering here and its about to be at my table and why am I so impatient? So a few minutes later, it finally arrives. Thankfully my friend didn't wait for my food to arrive to start because otherwise his food would be cold.

The cook who dropped off my food (which is literally deep fried potato with a sauce on it) didn't apologize for the wait, or ask my friend how his food was.

The first bite I took was not cooked. It was firm in the middle. How disappointing!

I understand that it is not the culture here to tip, so I am not paying for the smile and service that I do in North America. I get that. But when did serving food in a restaurant become just so casual? I don't need a smile to enjoy my food, but being asked if there is anything else I need would be nice, and communication from the staff that my food is going to take 3x longer than my friends would also be appreciated.

I love Spain, but the standards for food service is undeniable shameful. I am a foodie, and all food experiences should be wonderful. You have ruined bravas for me. No Bueno.

What is that sound?

I have always had roommates. Or parents. Or my landlord. Always had someone living with me, someone sharing space.

I'm not going to say it's a bad thing. It's not. But I can tell you that now that I have had a small taste of what it is like to live alone, I like it.

My new tenants just moved in over the last two days. Already they have become an irritation to me. Not because of anything specific. But I come into the kitchen, and something is moved. I go into the bathroom, and the mat that I leave on the edge of the tub is on the floor with footprints on it. There are sounds outside my room at any given moment. I am aware that they are there.

I can no longer make coffee in my underwear. I can't stroll from the bathroom to my room without being wrapped in a towel. I have to close my curtains because they could go out on the terrace at any moment and see into my room. I can't pee with the bathroom door open. I realize that most of these complaints are about not being able to be naked in some form, but for people like MC, she was already aware of my love of being pantsless or in some other degree of undress. We Skype pantsless most times.

It is not anything I cannot get over or deal with, but I am now much more aware of how much I wish I could still live alone. Never worrying if someone needs the bathroom, or if your need to do laundry at 8am is going to wake someone up. All of the space in the fridge is yours, and the food you buy is still going to be there when you get home. If you run out of milk, its your own fault.

So I suppose I have some adjusting to do in the next few weeks, and some dreaming for what my next apartment will be like.

Happy day people, smile!

A New Year's Resolution for the Year of Glitter and Glam!

January 1st is a day of new beginnings. It is a day of starting fresh, making goals and moving forward.

I am very happy that 2014 is over, but I am having a hard time accepting the traditions of a new year. I don't want to start a new year without my best friend. I don't want to admit that she is gone, and that last year was the last time we would run out into her yard and yell "Happy New Year!" while banging pots so loud and vigorously that the neighbours threaten to call the police. I don't want to move on. I cannot accept that she will not be there on my birthdays, or, if the day should come, my wedding day. She was too special to just let her life slip away, and accept that she is gone.

She has come to see me a few times in my dreams lately. She has told me each time that she is going to die; that she only has until the end of the week. And every time, I tell her that I am spending every minute with her until that moment. She wasn't sick, and in her true life, there is no reason that she would have known that she was going to die that night. And I think she fought to live. She wasn't giving up. I can't stand the thought of her being gone. She can't be.

But she is. Every year we have a theme. It is something to think about as the year goes by: a mantra of sorts. Last year's theme was "Things are Gonna Happen", and things certainly did happen. They happened whether we liked them or not. And whether we wanted them to or not. A lot of people died last year. Souls left this earth and went on without the rest of us. It has been a terribly sad year. So  this year's theme is "Take a Leap (and add some glitter)". This is a year to start fresh again. A year to celebrate, a year to love yourself, and treat yourself, and take a chance on yourself. I have friends back home in Canada who are looking for a new job: leap. I have a friend getting married: leap. I have a couple of friends expecting little ones throughout the year: leap! I don't know what this year will hold in store for me. I really couldn't say, but in any case, it is a matter of taking things into your own hands and doing something. And when I say "add some glitter" I don't always exclusively mean glitter, although that could be fun. I mean, take your leap with personality; make it your leap.

So with this new year upon us, I will "Take a Leap" on day one and tell myself that I will work to accept that she is gone. She will always be in my heart. And I hope that she continues to come and visit, even until I am an old woman sitting in a rocker on my front porch. But for now, she is not present on this planet anymore. And though I hate to say goodbye to the last year that my best friend was with us, I have to say "Happy New Year" to 2015 because I am determined to make this a happy year. I will continue to do "Rue things" and celebrate her life and the things we shared, and I will never forget her. She is my best friend always and forever, because not even death can separate the love and friendship that we had. But my life is going on and she would be the first person to tell me not to waste my life with sadness, and to get up, put on some music and go be glamorous!

Happy 2015!

Merry Christmas!

It's the day before Christmas and all through the city
The drinks are flowing, bubbly and fizzy.
The people all celebrating the days off to come
And the children excited for toys and for fun.

It's the time we're reminded 
To respect people we pass,
Not wish them Happy Kwanzaa, 
Happy Hanukah or Merry Christmas.  

But to hell with that non-sense,
That foulness and trouble, 
Let's rejoice in the season
And let's celebrate double.

So in this season of joy, 
It's no matter if you're Muslim or Jew, 
Black, white or brown, 
Red, yellow or blue. 

I'll wish you Merry Christmas,
And I hope in return,
That you'll wish me the joy of your holiday
Until the year's turn. 

Barrrrrrcelona

Tengo frio.

yup, it's finally cold in Barcelona. Not cold like Canada, where you can throw hot water in the air and it turns to ice before it hits the ground, but still cold. And the thing about Spain is that they don't think  they are a cold country, so they have no insulation. And linoleum floors. And cement walls.

Oh well. Tis the season of warm knit sweaters, scarves and hats!

Happy winter, and stay warm friends!

The Christmas Spirit

I have decided to get into the Christmas Spirit this year. Excitement over pretty lights, lovely snacks and treats, and of course, the birth of Jesus.

Being from Canada, I am finding it quite difficult to get into the spirit though, without the mounds of snow, or at least the possibility of such. I'm not saying I'm hopping on the next flight out to get back to snowy Canada, but for those of you who find yourselves bitterly shovelling snow and cursing the cold wet flakes, I know you'll be happy come Christmas morning when you have a white Christmas. Think of me, here in Barcelona, with no snow to welcome in the jolly season of gift giving and remembering how lucky we are to live in a time of freedom of speech, and democracy.

Let every flake be a reminder to you that despite living in a cold country, you have, at the very least, a warm place to be, and people who love you.

Happy Holidays to all!

Peanut Butter Thoughts...

It's Saturday night, and though I should be thinking: "why am I at home on a Saturday night?" and feeling depressed that I don't have a life, I actually wanted to be home tonight.

Winter is here, and my body hasn't adjusted to that yet. Yes, I spent about 15 minutes on my terrace today in the sun in a tank top, until the wind picked up, but winter is here. It is much colder than it was all week, and while it is not as cold as Canada or Russia, it is still a shock to the system. So here I am, snug and warm, nails painted and the peanut butter jar open beside me, with a spoon in it.

I am trying to think of a story to write, but I haven't had any ideas in a long time. I could write about peanut butter (done that)... or... nothing. I got nothing.

If anyone has any ideas, I'm all peanut-butter-brained at the moment, so feel free to share.

Ikea Rat Race

In case anyone was wondering what it feels like to be a lab rat, I imagine in to be something like Ikea on a Saturday.

A few weeks ago, I got my new apartment. Yes, I know there should have been an update right away and yes, I have already heard it several times from my mother, who will no doubt comment again. I've been busy. Not busy like I have too much work on my plate and I can't keep up, but too busy not being busy. I've been wandering my neighbourhood and spending time with someone I had missed very much before coming back.

So anyway, back to being a lab rat. I got my apartment, which was furnished, but needed some love to make it mine. And some sheets. And a blanket. And some dishes. So I got up early on a Saturday planning to beat the crowds, and headed to Ikea. Well, apparently Ikea doesn't open before 10 on the weekend, so I had a light breakfast and waited until the floors were open.

I didn't NEED to walk the whole showroom floor, but I wanted to get some ideas about what to do about storage in the bathroom. There is no place to put anything besides the top of the sink, which isn't a counter, its just the sink. So I walked the whole showroom. Wow.

For those of you who know me and my issues, I have to be very focused in those situations, otherwise I end up coming home with much, much more than I need. So I had my notebook with my list of needed items, and my cell phone with the calculator and a pencil for writing down everything.. and I mean everything. Anything that went in my bag got written down, including the price. I wanted to know exactly how much I was going to be spending, and not go over budget. So I walked around. By 10:30 the place was packed and people were everywhere. It was hard not to bump into someone. I found myself looking at dining room chairs at one point and wondered how I even got there and why I was looking at them. I'll probably never know. Except that I want to equate it to what Cinnabon does in malls: they pump the smell of their delicious cinnamon goodness into the mall and you hardly know what happened until you're licking your fingers and looking for a napkin to wipe the rest of the sticky mess off your fingers. Yes, that is what Ikea does with fancy lighting and lovely vases. They make you forget what you came there for in the first place!

By the time I got to the part of the store I actually NEEDED to be in, it was almost noon. Where did the time go??

Also by this time, I am pretty sure the building was over capacity and there was not space to even breathe. But on I soldiered, around the store, to find the many items still left on my list. Still checking my list every thirty seconds and writing everything down, I maneuvered myself and my cart around the hordes of people. This is the part that I equate to being a lab rat. You must find the rug and get it into your cart and get yourself, the rug and the cart safely out of the rug area before someone else runs you down. But make sure its the right rug, not just any one will do. Yes, that is a real thing.

I ended up leaving the rug area without one for my room. I got one for the back door, and one for the bathroom, but there were so many people and I was all by myself... too much stress for such little gain. I can wear flip flops in my room a little longer.

Blankets was another issue. Since I have spare rooms and would like to be able to rent them, I bought bare minimum essentials for them: a pillow, mattress cover and blanket for each. The bedding for each of those came to about 36 euros a piece, which was pretty good, I thought! Then came time to look for things for MY bed. They didn't have the blanket I wanted in a size big enough for my bed. Wtf. So instead of panicking, I decided that the only impulse buy that I was giving myself of the day (which I had already picked up and was a lovely fleecy grey blanket) was actually not an impulse buy after all- it was exactly what I needed. I bought a blanket that wouldn't be quite warm enough for the winter, and the fleecy blanket to go on top! THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how you justify your choices! (The only blankets big enough for my bed were 85+euros. The blanket I bought was 25 and the grey blanket was 10.. hell ya!)

By the time I finished my rat race, I spent 268 euros and had almost everything on my list. I got a ride home in a cab around 2pm and started the task of cleaning the place from top to bottom and setting everything up.

Now it is almost perfect, my bed is comfy and warm and I love my new apartment!

The Day I Didn't Die

So in my last post, I wrote that I was going running in the mountains, and that I might die.

I didn't.

Wanted to make sure I wasn't dead, or wouldn't die over night after such an experience, so I waited until now to update again.

I didn't die.

I'm supposed to go again next weekend. This could be interesting. I might die.

Death by Running

Okay, so for those of you who wanted another update, this may be my last.

I am going running today in the mountains with a woman I met in the gym.

God help me.

On the plus side, at least the scenery will be worth it!

*i'llthinkofrue*

Strangers on a Train... in the Worst Way Possible

By the title of this blog, you can probably guess what kind of day I've had...

I will not tell you about all of them, but I will tell you about the one that made me want to press up against a woman more than I've ever wanted to before in life.. ever. *

 It was rush hour (which for those of you who don't know, lasts from 3:30-8pm here in Barcelona, much like Toronto). Hundreds of people, cramming themselves into steel tubes that will rocket them to some point in the city that is closer to where they live. Man I miss cars. Also, by "rocket" I clearly mean "move at a pace faster than you can walk, but not so fast that you blink and its over".

 So here we all are, ten of us trying to maneuver our bodies onto the already full train in order to get to our destination faster, and lets face it, even if we waited for the next one, there would still be too many people to be able to get a breath of air, so we might as well just get on and deal with it. For anyone who is claustrophobic, I imagine this experience would be the thing that makes you lose your shit and kill people- the train would emerge from the tunnel internally covered in blood and there you would be, standing up on the seat and clinging to the handrails, shaking with cowardly rage over the bodies of the fifty-seven people you just destroyed. Yup, there is that many people on the train.

 Now, no matter how many people can squeeze themselves onto the train, it is still customary to try not to touch the person next to you. This is not the telephone booth that you tried to fit 20 people into as a youth, you still have to have some decency in tact. So I am between someone's arm in front of me, the door behind, a woman to my right (the one I would have spooned if it were in any way appropriate) and a gross old man.

 To be honest, he was probably grosser because of his actions, and I likely would not have even noticed him if not for his actions, but still gross none-the-less. When the train gets going, much like in any other moving vehicle, bodies sway. Well, the train started moving and the sway would have had me leaning towards this man, but because of my incredible balance and my discomfort with touching strangers, I have mastered the art of train surfing to the point of barely moving when the vehicle starts, if I so choose. Well, he moved. And then he righted himself, big belly and all right into my side. And there he stayed, for the duration of the trip to the next stop. Another man a few feet away from me must have noticed my face because he gave me the "aw man, I'm sorry for you" look. Thanks random stranger, for noticing in my unquantifiable displeasure.

 Upon the doors opening at the next station to let people off and on, I had, as any normal person would, assumed that he would kindly remove himself from his position pressed up against me. This is something he did not do. The doors closed again with the same number of people crammed into our space as had been before, though this time there were new people added to the starting-to-sweat hell that is this moment. The train moved again, and again the man swayed slightly, though this time his stomach was never not-touching me, and when he righted himself, somehow his (to quote Sheldon) "bathing suit parts" ended up against my thigh. UMMM!!

 It was in this moment that I started to inwardly panic. If not for the two or three layers of clothing between our skin, this old man would be succeeding in making his all dreams come true: once again rubbing up against a hot, young blonde in public with his... *shudders*. I can't even finish that sentence.

 This is my nightmare.

 Undeniably.

 Strangers being close in an elevator for a few moments is one thing, and anyone who has ever worked in the Scotia Plaza in Toronto can appreciate that when there are only 1-5 people in the elevator at five minutes to nine, you wish it were socially congruous to close the doors on the four other people running towards the gaping portal, citing it as your way of trying to prolong their freedom from "the man". Of course, that is not deemed acceptable behaviour and so when those people cram themselves in, you count your lucky stars, literally, because hopefully you have enough that by the time you've counted them, at least someone has gotten off the elevator. Also, in downtown corporate Toronto, daily showers and deodorant are an important social protocol and being that it is not yet 9am, everyone still smells fresh.

 But at rush hour in a major city on one of the most used lines in the metro system, all hope is lost as the closing doors trap you in this vast yet confined space with frisky strangers at the end of their workday. I feel bad for some of these people. They may have thought that they could skip the shower this morning and get by Italian style with deodorant and body spray, and that the tuna fish sandwich they had for lunch with a wine chaser would end up leaving their breath smelling minty fresh.

 Dear Girl-beside-me-I'd-like-to-spoon,

Your breath doesn't smell good, but I'd still like to get to know you better than this leaner with a big belly and an appetite for girls in tight spaces.

Sincerely,

Notice-I'm-not-breathing-and-move-over

 I'm still having internal debates over whether to elbow this man so hard that he keels over, or continue holding my breath and enduring this most awful commute when the announcement rings through the train: "El proximo estacion: Verdeguer". Oh thank God there are only a few more moments of this unimaginable agony. Count backwards from 10: 10, 9, 8,- why is he staring at me?!- 7,6,- I can't even handle this anymore- 5, 4, 3, - oh no the train is slowing, he's leaning again only this time it's into me more than on purpose!- 2, 1 - OPEN YOU DAMN DOORS! OPEN!!!

 The doors slide open and he remains exactly where his is. Thankfully, enough people are moving out of the train that by the time new people can come in, I have moved to the opposite side of the train. Yes, my stop is next. And yes, I would rather fight my way past all of these people than spend another second racing through a long dark tunnel wishing I could melt into a fruit fly and die in the next 4.5 seconds.

 The man looked at me as the doors shut, as if to say "we were having a moment and you just... left?!" No sir, you were having a moment and I was being accosted by a stranger on a train.

 Can I have my virginity back?



*Yes MC, even more than you...even more.

Being Fabulous

Sometimes I remind myself how awesome I am.



Time for another cafe con leche ;)

Letter to Sidewalk Users

To the people in Spain who don't know how to share a sidewalk,

I may be Canadian, but I will still run you down if you're in my way.

Sincerely,

People who walk faster than a snail's pace.