Creed to reunite
Really Creed? Really? Didn't you do enough damage to humanity the first-time around?
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The end is near...
So I just spent 28 minutes on Skype with Air Canada to change my flight back home. This was necessary for two reasons:
1. I was slated to return to the States on July 6th, keeping me hostage in Madrid two whole weeks longer than necessary (my last day at school is June 19th).
2. I was slated to return to Chicago, not Denver (it was cheaper for me to purchase a flight from Chicago to Madrid and buy a separate flight from Denver to Chicago than to get a flight from Denver straight to Madrid).
In any case, I am now set to return to Denver on Saturday, June 27th. Which means that if I know my father (which I think I do), there will be some MAD CARNE ASADA on Sunday, June 28th. And that suits me just fine and dandy.
Sadly, I spent $55 more than I had anticipated spending on getting a flight back on that day. And since its on my credit card, it makes me feel yucky on the inside. However, I am planning on visiting one of my favorite Arabic-speaking, curly-haired super-Jew NU friends in Cairo right after I finish school, and this date was necessary in order for me to maximize time with her and ensure a speedily return home. Plus, I am going to be paying off my own debts soon (pending getting a job when I return, which hopefully will happen) and I'll feel less bad. AND this is the last bit of traveling I'm going to be doing for a long, long time I think. So in the long run, $55 USD is not much, really. It's the same thing I'd make tutoring on a Monday night. At least this is how I'm justifying these things.
1. I was slated to return to the States on July 6th, keeping me hostage in Madrid two whole weeks longer than necessary (my last day at school is June 19th).
2. I was slated to return to Chicago, not Denver (it was cheaper for me to purchase a flight from Chicago to Madrid and buy a separate flight from Denver to Chicago than to get a flight from Denver straight to Madrid).
In any case, I am now set to return to Denver on Saturday, June 27th. Which means that if I know my father (which I think I do), there will be some MAD CARNE ASADA on Sunday, June 28th. And that suits me just fine and dandy.
Sadly, I spent $55 more than I had anticipated spending on getting a flight back on that day. And since its on my credit card, it makes me feel yucky on the inside. However, I am planning on visiting one of my favorite Arabic-speaking, curly-haired super-Jew NU friends in Cairo right after I finish school, and this date was necessary in order for me to maximize time with her and ensure a speedily return home. Plus, I am going to be paying off my own debts soon (pending getting a job when I return, which hopefully will happen) and I'll feel less bad. AND this is the last bit of traveling I'm going to be doing for a long, long time I think. So in the long run, $55 USD is not much, really. It's the same thing I'd make tutoring on a Monday night. At least this is how I'm justifying these things.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
I am so exhausted...
Back in the old days of Northwestern, a sure sign of springtime was seeing the hoards of students (myself included) heading to the Lakefill to enjoy some sunshine, some good tunes, and the beautiful scenery of Lake Michigan. Today, I had enough of missing that and had my own little "day at the Lakefill" -- Madrid-style, of course.
Amy and I went to a little hill on Madrid's Engineering School campus, located right off one of Madrid's principal boulevards. After settling ourselves down for an afternoon of chilling in the sunshine, we were joined by my friend and co-worker Mike. The three of us spent 4 hours (no joke!) sitting on that hill, watching Spanish lovers make-out hardcore, eating candy, having boxed sangria, and petting dogs. It was quite an enjoyable afternoon.
Interestingly enough, as Amy and I walked from our apartment to the hill a few blocks away, I had a brief moment of complete ignorance. For about two seconds, I was transported back to those moments in Evanston when the two of us would bring a blanket and a good book to read at the Lakefill. For those two seconds, I completely forgot I was in the middle of a huge metropolitan city. For those two seconds, there was absolutely nothing strange about Amy's appearance. The flip flops, running shorts, sunglasses, and flowered shirt were perfectly normal, as was the big blue blanket she was carrying under her arm. But the comfort bubble was popped pretty quickly when we crossed paths with the students and parents of the Italian School two blocks down. They certainly didn't think Amy's "ready for the Lakefill" appearance was as normal. But they are the ones missing out.
On a completely random brainwave, I have to rant about how upset I am that other people are taking photos of awesome street graffiti. Obviously, I am aware that I didn't invent photography or graffiti, nor was I the first to think to take photos of some of the REALLY awesome stuff, but it just chops my hide when I see other people doing it. That was MY thing, like being bilingual at age 10 and having been to Mexico. Then I grow up and realize all of that is much more common than I thought and that I'm really not such a special snowflake. How the hell am I supposed to be an individual, dammit? Guess I'll have to go back to coloring my hair extravagant colors -- or better yet, shaving it all off...
Amy and I went to a little hill on Madrid's Engineering School campus, located right off one of Madrid's principal boulevards. After settling ourselves down for an afternoon of chilling in the sunshine, we were joined by my friend and co-worker Mike. The three of us spent 4 hours (no joke!) sitting on that hill, watching Spanish lovers make-out hardcore, eating candy, having boxed sangria, and petting dogs. It was quite an enjoyable afternoon.
Interestingly enough, as Amy and I walked from our apartment to the hill a few blocks away, I had a brief moment of complete ignorance. For about two seconds, I was transported back to those moments in Evanston when the two of us would bring a blanket and a good book to read at the Lakefill. For those two seconds, I completely forgot I was in the middle of a huge metropolitan city. For those two seconds, there was absolutely nothing strange about Amy's appearance. The flip flops, running shorts, sunglasses, and flowered shirt were perfectly normal, as was the big blue blanket she was carrying under her arm. But the comfort bubble was popped pretty quickly when we crossed paths with the students and parents of the Italian School two blocks down. They certainly didn't think Amy's "ready for the Lakefill" appearance was as normal. But they are the ones missing out.
On a completely random brainwave, I have to rant about how upset I am that other people are taking photos of awesome street graffiti. Obviously, I am aware that I didn't invent photography or graffiti, nor was I the first to think to take photos of some of the REALLY awesome stuff, but it just chops my hide when I see other people doing it. That was MY thing, like being bilingual at age 10 and having been to Mexico. Then I grow up and realize all of that is much more common than I thought and that I'm really not such a special snowflake. How the hell am I supposed to be an individual, dammit? Guess I'll have to go back to coloring my hair extravagant colors -- or better yet, shaving it all off...
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Rediscovery
I absolutely love it when I find myself in a funk and turn to some good tunes to cheer me up (or help me wallow through my self-pity). Even better than that is when I re-discover fantastic jams that I hadn't listened to in ages.
Take, for instance, The Stills' "Logic Will Break Your Heart." Fantastic album, with some really memorable songs for me. "Still In Love" really takes me back to my high school years. Equally fantastic was my re-discovery of Cursive, a band I initially despised, came to adore, and subsequently forgot. Both "The Ugly Organ" and "Happy Hollow" got me through some particularly dramatic moments in college.
Although I often complain that I'm out of touch with the newest "hot" thing in the States, for the moment I'm happy being taken back to a previous era in my life.
Take, for instance, The Stills' "Logic Will Break Your Heart." Fantastic album, with some really memorable songs for me. "Still In Love" really takes me back to my high school years. Equally fantastic was my re-discovery of Cursive, a band I initially despised, came to adore, and subsequently forgot. Both "The Ugly Organ" and "Happy Hollow" got me through some particularly dramatic moments in college.
Although I often complain that I'm out of touch with the newest "hot" thing in the States, for the moment I'm happy being taken back to a previous era in my life.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Spanish police
In the past, I've complained about the complete lack of "customer service" Spanish culture has. By this, I'm referring to people who won't take an extra 10 seconds to tell you the price difference between two items, not telling you the location of where you can obtain a particular vaccine if its not in that office, etc. But today I stumbled upon my as-of-now favorite "screw customers" moment in Spain, which features none other than two Spanish police officers.
As I was walking back home today, I saw a crowd of teenage school children standing in a wide circle in front of the Ejercito del Aire, a building I assume is Madrid's version of an Air Force. As I neared the group to cross the street, I saw two teenage boys throwing punches at each other merely meters away from two police officers standing next to a parked van in the building's parking lot. The two boys were really going at it -- one kid even had a bloody nose! As I looked around to see if anyone was going to try and break up the fight, I made eye contact with one of the police officers and told him the boys were fighting. He shrugged at me, and turned to speak to his colleague, completely ignoring the fighting going on in his face.
I paused, standing in the middle of the street for a few seconds, my brain trying to work out what the hell was going on. How could 2 boys be fighting and having 2 policemen watching them? "Shouldn't the officers try breaking something like that up?," I thought. Well, I was wrong. Because two random men in suits came to break it up instead of the people who are paid to keep the peace.
Just another "WTF" moment in Madrid.
As I was walking back home today, I saw a crowd of teenage school children standing in a wide circle in front of the Ejercito del Aire, a building I assume is Madrid's version of an Air Force. As I neared the group to cross the street, I saw two teenage boys throwing punches at each other merely meters away from two police officers standing next to a parked van in the building's parking lot. The two boys were really going at it -- one kid even had a bloody nose! As I looked around to see if anyone was going to try and break up the fight, I made eye contact with one of the police officers and told him the boys were fighting. He shrugged at me, and turned to speak to his colleague, completely ignoring the fighting going on in his face.
I paused, standing in the middle of the street for a few seconds, my brain trying to work out what the hell was going on. How could 2 boys be fighting and having 2 policemen watching them? "Shouldn't the officers try breaking something like that up?," I thought. Well, I was wrong. Because two random men in suits came to break it up instead of the people who are paid to keep the peace.
Just another "WTF" moment in Madrid.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
inadequacies
My trip to Dublin this weekend was incredible. Despite not having visited the Guiness Brewery (truly tragic, I know), I had my fill of fantastic Irish beer, food, folk songs and singing Irishmen. Pretty much everything I could ask for.
Except for the part where we (my roommates and I) almost didn't make it back out of Dublin. After being screwed over by Ryan Air (surprise!), we had to buy a separate ticket to get back to Madrid on Iberia. The weekend was extremely enjoyable until the minute the man at the gate told me, "You don't have a stamp. That means you don't get to travel today."
I'm still not sure how I stayed the rational one in that situation -- I think I had a delayed reaction to the news. But, on the positive side, at least I made it back.
This week, I've been thinking a lot. About lots of things. I've come to the realization that my time here is coming to an end (just three months left) and I need to start thinking about what the next step will be. I already know that whatever may come, I expect it will come in Denver. I miss it, I miss being close to home, and really, what is a better place to figure out what the heck to do with yourself than your own home? I keep thinking that I have been wasting my time here by not experimenting more on my own with videos of my vacation, or even really blogging about them. How am I going to get a job in this new media field if I've had the most fantastic opportunity and I've let it slip through my fingers? It makes me think about how I should really be more of a go-getter, and it makes me wonder what happened to me. I used to be one of those people with a fire under my ass, always trying to do whatever I could to get myself ahead. But now, I'm OK with just taking things a day at a time.
I've been trying to live by the Buddhist philosophy of living in the present moment, but I'm having trouble finding a good balance between enjoying the moment and reconciling it with my former work ethic and need to know what comes next. Perhaps it's a nasty circle, and worrying about not worrying enough means that I'm not really yet at the point where I live in the moment.
Except for the part where we (my roommates and I) almost didn't make it back out of Dublin. After being screwed over by Ryan Air (surprise!), we had to buy a separate ticket to get back to Madrid on Iberia. The weekend was extremely enjoyable until the minute the man at the gate told me, "You don't have a stamp. That means you don't get to travel today."
I'm still not sure how I stayed the rational one in that situation -- I think I had a delayed reaction to the news. But, on the positive side, at least I made it back.
This week, I've been thinking a lot. About lots of things. I've come to the realization that my time here is coming to an end (just three months left) and I need to start thinking about what the next step will be. I already know that whatever may come, I expect it will come in Denver. I miss it, I miss being close to home, and really, what is a better place to figure out what the heck to do with yourself than your own home? I keep thinking that I have been wasting my time here by not experimenting more on my own with videos of my vacation, or even really blogging about them. How am I going to get a job in this new media field if I've had the most fantastic opportunity and I've let it slip through my fingers? It makes me think about how I should really be more of a go-getter, and it makes me wonder what happened to me. I used to be one of those people with a fire under my ass, always trying to do whatever I could to get myself ahead. But now, I'm OK with just taking things a day at a time.
I've been trying to live by the Buddhist philosophy of living in the present moment, but I'm having trouble finding a good balance between enjoying the moment and reconciling it with my former work ethic and need to know what comes next. Perhaps it's a nasty circle, and worrying about not worrying enough means that I'm not really yet at the point where I live in the moment.
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