12.22.2010

The Reincarnation of This Here Blog

Perhaps it's ego-centrism, but I've felt something missing in these last 6 months of bloglessness. Thus, it is today that I take up my proverbial pen and write again, if only because I anticipate eating more great food and seeing more fabulous things and participating in more photo-worthy events. I'm a second-semester senior, dammit. Big things are on the horizon. Yikes.

In the meantime, here's what you've missed:

Ryan and I spent a day at Coney Island to enjoy some ridiculously hot sun and the Siren Music Festival.






We made it to Foodswings in Brooklyn a few times this summer, which specializes in vegan diner food. Below, a Southern Fried "Chicken" Wing with a wooden "bone" for added effect.




Then school started, as did themed Senior Nights. For "TV characters," I indulged the couple mentality and went as Olive Oyl to Ryan's Popeye.


October was the world's longest month with 5 jam-packed weekends in which I made time for apple-picking with Ryan, meeting the family in Cincinnati for Mama's 80th birthday and a Bengals game, seeing The Great Pumpkin at the Botans, and then heading to DC to promote LNDR at the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear.






As the homework piled on, I only made time for one stupendous excursion to Williamsburg with my roomies for some thrift-shopping. And then the parents and I joined with my brother via Skype for the first annual Switzer Skypesgiving. (Mom forgot to actually purchase Brett's tickets, so he was left stranded at the airport and sentenced to a ready-made Thanksgiving dinner from Kroger and a holiday away from home. He's here for Christmas, though, and his law school exams didn't suffer from any Thanksgiving diversion.





And, finally, just before I bid adieu to my social life and hello to exam hell, Ryan and I made a trip up to Boston to visit our besties at Emerson.





All of this, plus a full course load, the beginning of my honors thesis, and a 3-day/week internship at VINTUS made for a busy semester, so I hope you can understand my blogging absence.

But no more excuses. I promise that I'm back for good. The posts might not be as long or romantic as those from abroad, but they won't be boring. Stay tuned as my life turns into a whirlwind of MBA classes, the GBHP Thesis, resumes, job searches, apartment hunts, and hopefully a half-marathon or something to keep me sane and focused.

Until then, happy holidays to you and yours. Here's hoping that you and I both get everything on our lists. Cheers!

<3

7.06.2010

Footloose and Fancy-Free

Happy 4th of July!

After 5 days of tour-giving in the hot sun, I was begging for a long weekend full of fun in the sun. Well be careful what you wish for because my feet are still a little swollen from 3 days of nonstop walking and sunning.

On Saturday, Ryan and I met up with his family at his grandparents' cottage in the Hamptons. We chilled poolside with the cousins and had a little BBQ action and chocolate icing fight before heading home and hitting the hay early in anticipation of the day to come.

The 4th of July is a tough time for New Yorkers, since everyone wants to get out of the city, but there's not much else to do outside of the city if you don't have transportation, a destination, and/or lots of money to spend acquiring the first two. So Ryan, Jack and I met up with our friend Matt at Governor's Island for a free concert by She & Him with Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward. Perhaps we were a little overzealous in catching the 10am ferry over for the 4pm concert. But we didn't have to wait in line for any wristbands and we found a nice tree in the picnic area of the island under which we ate our gyros and napped. 6 hours later, we bumped into Jake, Eileen and Jim just as the concert was starting. After a full set, we caught a ferry back to the city, where we ate sushi (yet another very American meal on Independence Day) at my new fave spot Sushi-a-Go-Go, and then chased the Macy's Fourth of July fireworks show on the west side. Completely pooped and a little dehydrated, I slept on the subway as Ryan and Jack kept an eye out for the Fordham Rd. stop. One gypsy cab ride later, I konked out until 11AM the next day.


Matt, Ryan, Jack


Couple Pic in front of Lady Liberty


The Beach @ Governor's Island


Jake, Eileen, Jim

Governor's Island left us all seeing mirages, so Monday Ryan, Jack and I made our way to Ryan's dad's public pool on Long Island, complete with two diving boards and a water slide. I hadn't been on a water slide since childhood summers at Hurricane Harbor, so shooting out into the chilly water like a cannon ball was a thrilling and welcome experience. We spent hours reading, lounging, swimming, floating, diving, and joking around before we ended the day at Press 195, a gourmet-style panini, salad, and beer garden with locations in Queens and Brooklyn. I got the 27: Grilled chicken smothered in BBQ sauce, onions, smoked gouda, jalapenos, and tomato. Then I called it an early night yet again to get ready for a short work week. Now, on the hottest day of the year so far with a high of 101, I've got to give a campus tour to 100 prospective students and their families. At least July is the start of 4-day work weeks - Fridays free!!

That's all for now. Thanks for reading, and let freedom ring!

6.24.2010

Snug as a June Bug

A few brief updates about my last summer vacation in NYC, post-Barcelona:

Sex and the City 2 was absurd, as expected. Thankfully, Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte delivered their usual charming performances. Otherwise, the movie's over-the-top antics and borderline tacky fashion choices would have been unbearable.

Next, Ryan and I went to see Galactic at Brooklyn Bowl, a eco-conscious bowling alley catered by Blue Ribbon Restaurants, before meeting up with Mom and Dad the next morning for a weekend of shopping in the city. Hummus Place, Tino's and the Park Side Restaurant in Queens made it on the rents' whirlwind culinary tour - Mom caught it all on her new Flip Video Camcorder - before I kissed them goodbye until October.

Other highlights for this month include a 5-course dinner and wine-tasting at PUBLIC, the June 15 Yankees-Phillies game at the new stadium, and hopefully a day-trip to Coney Island this weekend, weather-permitting.





Needless to say, I haven't had much reverse culture shock, except that I do miss the people I met while abroad. And I miss Organic. A lot.

<3

5.27.2010

Closing Anecdotes

I'm all packed up now and just waiting for my 7:30am cab ride to the airport tomorrow morning. Of course, my last couple of hours coincidentally wrapped up my time in Barcelona perfectly. So here ya go:

Just after THE FINAL ESPIN CLASS, I ducked down into the basement to grab a water bottle from the vending machine when I saw one of my dear friends from the "21 Dias" post. He was playing ping-pong with a guy I'd never seen before, and I couldn't hear what they were saying, but my friend was gesturing in my general direction when the other guy asked me, "Es una mentira?"

Well I didn't know what they had been talking about, but I assumed Chuck Norris. So I said yes I knew Chuck Norris and then proceeded to answer the rest of his questions. Yes I am from Texas. Yes he is my neighbor. Yes I've spoken to him before. Yes I've seen him filming "Walker Texas Ranger." No I cannot get him to meet you. I never knew Chuck Norris would contribute so much to my popularity in my Spanish residencia.

Then I joined my roommate Carla and my friend Sandra for dinner. I had something nondescript - pasta, veggies, salad - and we gabbed about New York and Barcelona and the latest residencia gossip. As we were cleaning up our plates and getting ready to leave, I busted out of the caf with a dessert plate of none other than... apple pie.

Obviously I made the girls try this most American dessert ever and a residencia cafeteria first and told them all about Thanksgiving and pies and how unbelievably perfect it was that for THE FINAL MEAL before my return to America, I could enjoy a taste of home.

Then, as we left the cafeteria to head back to our rooms, Sandra looked up at a suddenly cloudy and ominous sky and said, "Ay! Te vas y el cielo llora!"

Indeed, it looks as though Barcelona is mourning my departure, as I do my best to bid a dry goodbye as well. I just hope Barcelona can dry its tears and buck up before my flight tomorrow, because that cannot happen.

<3

5.26.2010

Sun Salutation

OKAY. Okay. I know. I'm sorry.

Ugh. The truth is, I've been avoiding this post, the final post, because I find myself unexpectedly emotionally and psychologically unprepared to leave. A short 5 months after I began, just as I've found my niche, adopted the language, formed true friendships, and built up one hell of a tan, I have to leave without knowing for certain if and when I'll return. The funniest part is that I've been so vocal about my excitement to return home. I believe the word - my friends Sidney and Deidre know it well - is "bittersweet." I've fallen in love with more than one home and can't see myself leaving either one.

That said, I've compiled a list of the Top 10 things I will miss most about Barcelona as well as the Top 10 things I'm most looking forward to returning to in NYC:

I Will Miss Most:
1. My new friends
2. BBQs at Eddie, Tom, Chris, and Pawel's apartment on the terrace that faces East.
3. Organic
4. Espinning
5. Traveling to new places
6. Lays' "Receta de Campesina" Chips
7. Having nothing to do
8. Way too many holidays
9. Heart health
10. Freedom from technology

I'm Most Looking Forward To:
1. My old friends
2. Laying out on Eddie's Parade
3. Hummus Place
4. Runs in Central Park
5. Exploring more of my own city
6. Cheez-Its, or crackers in general
7. Being productive
8. Sunday hours of operation
9. Lung/sinus health
10. Blackberry

So yeah. That's about all she wrote. I'm not sure whether or not I'll keep this blog up when I get back to the States, but I do promise to write a follow-up post to let you know how the reverse culture shock is going. Though with my already-packed planner full of concerts, dinners, Yankees games, movies, museums, and other cultural excursions, it'll take a lot to shake this city girl.

Thanks for reading this semester and helping me through.

Y te echo de menos, Barcelona. I'll be back soon.

<3

5.13.2010

El Capital

And in my last weekend getaway before I head home to the U.S. of A. I traversed not one but two of Spain's autonomous communities: Madrid and Castilla-La Mancha, this time with two of my besties from high school, Courtney and David, and a new friend, Danny.

The first stop was Madrid, Spain's capital and home to FC Barcelona's biggest national rival: Real Madrid. Moreover, Madrid is usually considered the alternative to Barcelona in most study abroad programs. You either loyal to Madrid or Barcelona but never both, as each city offers something remarkably different. Thus, armed with itineraries from a few friends who studied abroad in Madrid, I opened my heart and mind and gave Madrid my best shot.

Upon arriving, Danny and I met Courtney and David at the hostel before we headed out to Palacio Real and the Sabatini Gardens. Well I suppose the bad weather is partially to blame, but I can't say I was blown away. A gray building against gray skies doesn't make for exceptional pictures. The armory was perhaps the most exciting part, if only because we each picked out our army's armor. (Basically, the boys compared swords and cannons while Courtney and I compared the aesthetic merit of each breast plate.) Then we hit up Puerta del Sol and Plaza Mayor, both of which were alive and bustling despite the rain. Afterwards, we ran, not walked, to the one and only El Tigre, a legit SRO tapas bar that boasts super sized mojitos and tinto de verano, which consists of wine and lemonade. I was happy to be able to show Courtney and David what tapas were really all about - we had pan de tomate, manchego, tortillas (potato omelettes), and croquettes. Fueron deliciosos!



The next day we greeted bright skies with a smile and headed straight to el Parque del Retiro. I have to admit, this park has a lot over other parks I've seen while here. For starters, it's more manicured than my mother's fingernails. On top of that, it has a lake that offers boat rides for 4.50 € per boat. I'm not sure why, but Courtney and I somehow ended up in the front of the boat with the oars, making the first half of our 45 minutes at sea more like a game of bumper boats than an easy coast along still waters. Once the boys took over, we made it back safely to shore.



After that, the storm clouds came just in time for our super tour of the museum trifecta: Reina Sofia, Thyssen and Prado. While the Prado was a thrill if only because of Mr. Long's HAM (History of Art & Music) class sophomore year of high school, I found myself more fond of modern art in the Reina Sofia. After 5 months traveling Spain, forgive me if I've grown tired of religious subjects. The crowning glory of the afternoon, of course, was that thanks to a little forethought, we entered 2 of the Big 3 for free! And the Thyssen is never free, so I basically scored an A+ on the budget scorecard of life.

On Sunday, we hit up the Rastro flea market, where David bought a Texas flag belt buckle, and then Danny and I bid farewell before heading to the Renfe train station, where Courtney and David headed to Cordoba and Danny and I bought tickets to Toledo.

For me, Toledo was a vision of old Spain: narrow cobblestone streets, grand cathedrals, and vast landscapes of bridges, rivers, and castles. Danny's a photography connoisseur, so it was fun to just wander and take pictures, though we did make a point to hit up the must-sees and to eat marzipan, a confection indigenous to the region. It basically tasted like sugar and almonds, so I obviously loved it.





Back in Madrid and having little else to do on Monday but roam a few gardens, Danny and I headed to the airport early in hopes of nabbing an earlier flight on Vueling. No Ryanair-esque problems there; we made it back before dark!

All in all, it was a beautiful, stress-free weekend with lovely company. Arriving home to Barcelona didn't exactly make me nostalgic for hostels and Starbucks wifi, but I will miss spending time with people discovering that little ball we call the world. Oh, and for those of you who sing Madrid's praises, my heart's still in Barcelona. Lest we forget it's got a beach, Messi and that little home away from home I call Organic.

<3

5.06.2010

THE EURO IS FALLING, THE EURO IS FALLING!

On my way to Madrid tomorrow. Gonna withdraw mad cash moneys. Watch the Euro drop to under $1.00 on the day that I leave.

Hasta luegoooo.

<3

5.02.2010

Comprar Hasta Caer Muerto

Last Friday I went eshopping.

I had been good enough, stopping only occasionally in Zara to pick up a disposable going-out top as needed. But the recent dawn of warm weather combined with a reassessment of my closet practically forced me out the door of my residencia and onto Barcelona's Passeig de Gracia, a big street lined with boutiques both for the luxury and stylishly frugal consumer. Unfortunately, where I usually have very little trouble spotting dozens of things I like, I went in and out of shops with nothing more than the hopeless feeling that accompanies a less-than-fruitful shopping excursion. After a few months here, I've come to realize that Barcelona street style involves a LOT of solid neutrals. Black, brown, gray, cream, and army green really about covers 90% of the average Spanish wardrobe. That extra 10% makes room for colorful scarves and this truly diabolical Spanish brand of clothing called Desigual. Imagine tasteful handmade clothing on a conveyor belt as it is first shot with paintball guns, then stamped with stickers of weird eyeballs, dragons, flowers, and any other design that would have made for a fun temporary tattoo when you were, say, 8 years old. Then it goes through a shredder so that whatever semblance of a piece of clothing is left from the decorative treatment is now lost. I think the idea is that it's "atypical," but I think that might just be code for ugly. Sorry. But true.

So the Spanish wardrobe is either streamlined and urban and neutral and ultra-serious or smoking crack. All of the students in my residencia opt for the former, dressed very similarly in skinny jeans or leggings, layered tissue tees and sweaters, a leather jacket, boots, and an equally drab scar in solid neutral or washed out cheetah print. Not to say that I've never donned something similar, but I miss the quirky touches and outlandish accessories that I so often see in New York. Very rarely do you see a sense of humor in the way people dress here. Moreover, there seems to be very little color. While black had snuck into my NYC wardrobe in the name of function ever since arriving to Fordham, I still seek prints and colors (particular oranges and purples) when I'm out shopping, especially for the summer! After a few hours and a "can-do" attitude, I did find one pretty fabulous fuschia frock (yay alliteration!) that I'll be sure to post a picture of as soon as an event warrants itself worthy of such a dress. I also bought some pretty cute khaki-colored espadrille canvas sneakers that were too cute to pass up, and then quit shortly thereafter for fear I'd suffer an allergy attack from all of the dusty colors that filled the stores. I gotta admit that the Barcelona look can be hot, but I think I'd rather show my true colors. (Yuk yuk yuk.)

<3

4.27.2010

Island in the Sun

After every trip I've taken thus far, I've been at peace with saying goodbye. I've seen all the sites, walked myself ragged, eaten enough bad food, lost enough sleep, and I'm just itching to get back to my residencia, stop spending money, and start espinning. This was not the case with Palma de Mallorca. I was ready to spend the next week there, soaking up the sun on the quiet beaches of Portals Nous and dancing the night away in the clubs along Maritimo. Two and a half days was not enough time, especially after yet another stressful experience with good ol' Ryanair.

I spent the night at Raelene's in order to take the metro to the bus station where we were going to catch either the 5:30am or 5:45am bus to Girona airport in order to be there at 7:00am for out 8:25am flight. Only the 5:30am and 5:45am buses were mysteriously cancelled (perhaps because of the día de Sant Jordi holiday), much to the chagrin of the huddles of angry foreigners wondering how in the hell they were going to catch their flights. Naturally, the bus company was in no way actually affiliated with Ryanair, so it had very little sympathy for the only option it left us with: a 150 € cab ride. Thank God for Sofia, whose brilliant idea to take the 6:00am Renfe train to Figueres left us with exactly 30 minutes to get the metro to Sants, buy tickets, and hop on the train before it left us completely out of options. In Girona city by 7:15am, we hailed a cab for the 15-minute ride to the airport. With time to spare before our flight started boarding, we sat at the McDonald's outside our gate waiting for them to call our flight. Except that they never did. And as soon as it appeared on the departure monitor we were staring at while scarfing down breakfast, our flight was making its "Last Call." Are you serious? We could have missed our flight simply because they never called us to board. I'm just relieved to know that I will never have to take Ryanair again. I lost ten years off of my life dealing with this mess. I woke up at 4:30am for an 8:25am flight and I almost missed it And to those of you who have yet to study abroad, take heed. Ryanair's cheap flights (and don't forget the sneaky extra charges plus the bus trip) are NOT worth the stress. Good riddance.

As you can imagine, the snazzy hotel that our IQS friends from Mallorca hooked us up with was a welcome retreat after a classic morning in Ryanair hell. Somehow we managed balcony rooms, complimentary breakfast and buffet dinner, spa and pool access, and walking-distance to the beach for 27,50 € per night. There was absolutely nothing hostel-esque about this place. We were in paradise. After a quick visit to check out the pool, we grabbed some lunch at The Ship, a very Irish, very English-speaking locale that boasted cheap sandwiches, loaded baked potatoes and beer. Fabulous. After a little more sun and some serious spa time, I turned in for the night to catch up on the sleep I had been missing.

Saturday we woke up, stuffed ourselves with a hearty breakfast, grabbed some refreshments from the grocery store, and headed to the beach. The beach was really small and private, almost like a little cove. It had its fair share of topless tanners to be sure, but I was too distracted by the cerulean water to even pay attention. I'm not sure I've ever seen water like that in Mallorca; you would have thought it was filled with diamonds the way the sun made it sparkle. I concluded that I must live near water. The sense of tranquility it brings is unrivaled. If it weren't for the sun compromising the health/color of my skin, I could have taken a nap out there. But instead I headed back to the hotel to cool off.







That night we joined our Mallorcan hosts for some traditional Mallorcan cuisine - frito mallorquín, pan de tomate, caracoles, and hierbas de Mallorca, an anise-flavored drink made from cacti indigenous to the island. Then we headed to el Maritimo to see what botellón was truly all about. Botellón is Spain's "pre-gaming." In Mallorca, hoards of people park all along the boulevard facing the water, grab their drinks of choice, and pass the time until the clubs across the street start hopping. We ended up at a club that had the most unbelievable mix of American favorites - everything from Lou Bega's "Mambo #5" to Gaga's "Paparazzi." So, yeah. That was pretty much amazing.



Finally, we headed to the city center to snag some Mallorcan pearls and check out the cathedral. I wasn't ready to leave, but getting back was much easier than arriving. All in all, I hope I get the chance to go back. Perfect weather, beaches, and nightlife? I'm not sure I could say no.

4.22.2010

Sidra House Rules

Kaixo! I've just returned from in Pais Vasco, yet another one of Spain's 7 autonomous regions, after a weekend with an old childhood friend Jehan and her generous flatmates who let me crash for a few days. Arriving in Bilbao, I took a 1-hour bus ride to San Sebastian (or Donostia, its Basque name). Immediately, the city's quiet and quaint ambience was undeniable. The streets were alive with families enjoying a stroll along the beach and seniors gossiping on benches in the town's main boulevard. San Sebastian has a small town feel, with manicured gardens of colorful tulips and pansies, a town center that hosts community Basque dancing on Sundays, and a family-oriented vibe. We were constantly running into familiar faces throughout the weekend, a contrast to Barcelona's highly populated streets and metros, and a walk around the entire city took less than an hour.

I came for San Sebastian's first weekend of truly great weather, so everyone had spring fever and the beaches were alive with topless tanners, all of whom were tragically over the age of 50. After a commemorative toast of mimosas on the beach, Jehan and I met her friends for a night at a sidreria, or sagardotegi in Basque. It's basically a cross between a steakhouse and a cider house, serving all-you-can-eat plates of meat and all-you-can-drink cups of cider. Most Basque cider contains 4-6% alcohol and is served directly from the barrel. The cider basically comes shooting out of the barrel and you have to catch it in your cup. As with most alcohol, though, there is an art to drinking cider. The more foam the better, so a gentle tilt of the cup, and then you drink it in one gulp before it goes flat. Needless to say, the 4-6% alcohol will go right through you if you hang out near the barrel long enough. Lots of fish, meat, bread, cheese, and apple preserves later, I left literally stuffed full with Basque culture. Great start to the weekend.



Saturday we took the funicular up to the top of San Sebastian for the most spectacular views of Playa de La Concha. After a quick bite to eat, we headed down to the beach and then to the grocery store to pick up some fajita fixings for dinner. I contributed my mom's famous avocado, strawberry, and mango fruit salad in lime and Tabasco vinaigrette. It was a hit. Obviously. Then Jehan and I met her friends in Parte Vieja, San Sebastian's "old town," which boasts more bars per square meter than any other place in the world.







Sunday we went for a steep hike up to see Jesus, the statue that overlooks Parte Vieja, before lunch at a popular burger joint that also serves chicken and cooked egg sandwiches. Why I never thought to put a fried egg on a sandwich is beyond me. Adding this sandwich to the list of things to make when I'm on my own this summer.





Monday I hugged Jehan goodbye and then headed to Bilbao before my flight that evening. Of course I didn't have the foresight to realize that the Guggenheim would be closed, but the outside is the thing to see. In fact, I hadn't heard much to make me really look forward to touring the industrial city, so I was shocked to see how truly beautiful Bilbao was. It seemed a city of fantastic modern architecture - all buildings were vast, complex, and multi-dimensional. The Guggenheim Museo Bilbao took my breath away. I'm not sure I've seen anything up to this point that I enjoyed more architecturally than that building. My pictures don't even do it justice. If you ever get the chance to see it in person, go.



Three days back, Raelene turned 21, and we're off to Palma de Mallorca tomorrow. Pray for good weather! Otherwise, I fear I'll just be seeing a lot of my hotel room.

Agur.

<3

4.14.2010

Week in Review

It's been awhile since my last post, and I like to write somewhat frequently if only to record for myself what I spent my numbered days in Barcelona actually doing. Thanks for all the love and support after my last post. I'm feeling worlds better after a concerted effort to get out and do things (read: eat elsewhere), but a large part of that is thanks to this medium in which I could share my feelings and feel less alone. Mission Accomplished.

Anyway, as soon as I was back in the swing of things, a weekend of 70-degree weather and bright sun sent me running for the beaches of Barcelona. My friend Raelene and I met for a meal at Organic and then spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday doing what we've been waiting to do since arriving in Barcelona: tanning. Well she tanned because she's half-Puerto Rican and I got a little pink because my skin hadn't seen the light of day in quite some time. It was the perfect beach weather. Warm enough to lay out in a bathing suit, but not uncomfortable. I could feel the sun blanketing my body in warmth, and then a breeze would come rushing beneath the blanket before the heat could truly settle onto my skin. So, basically, perfection.



A Saturday BBQ at Eddie's apartment to celebrate his birthday offered a welcome change to my usual dinner routine. I had a grilled chicken and mozzarella sandwich on a toasted baguette. (The sandwich on baguette panini concept is something I'll be bringing back to the States. Along with Nutella and manchego.) Then it was off to watch El Clasico, the Real Madrid v. FC Barcelona game. Rivalry is an understatement. When Barcelona won (obviously), riots broke out. (See my "Barca! Barca! Baaaaaaaarca!" for a refresher on the importance of football in Spain.)

Monday brought rain on my parade (literally), which was fine since I had a lot of catching up to do on the homework I hadn't touched on account of the sun. So I've been shut-in writing a few papers and throwing together a few presentations since then. This weekend will be a wonderful break from school as I venture northward to Bilbao and San Sebastian, where I'll be staying with an old childhood friend of mine with whom a reunion is long overdue.

Be on the lookout for pictures!!

<3

4.08.2010

Homesickkkkkkkkkkkkk

I had been waiting for it and waiting for it and waiting for it to come. That sinking, hopeless, empty, impossibly lonely feeling in which everything is different, nobody understands, and your only option is to get outta there as quickly as possible. But after 3 months, I figured I'd gotten over my history of chronic homesickness and finally found that streak of independence that I pride myself on.

Well, sometime between Ryan's 4:30am airport drop-off and my 1am bout of severe nausea, I felt it. I had washed down half of a muscle milk light bar with a bottle of Coca-Cola Light, bid farewell to my main squeeze without shedding nary a tear, hopped in a cab to my residencia, and crashed for a few hours before waking up around 10am, just in time for breakfast. Not feeling all that inspired by the caf's offerings after a week in gastronomic paradise, I went with my standby: cereal, skim milk, kiwis, and OJ.

And just like that I spent the next 15 hours cowered in my bed, clutching my stomach, and recognizing my very sudden and very apparent loneliness until my 1am wakeup call, when I ran to the toilet and vomited my guts out for the first time in 11 years. (Dead serious about that. Not sure why, but I just don't throw up. Well, up until now.) To add insult to injury, gray skies and thunderstorms provided quite a dramatic contrast to the 5 days of sun and delicious food I had just enjoyed. My roommate and other peers weren't due back until Monday night, staffing had been stripped down to the bare essentials for the holiday, and my Skype buddy was flying back to NYC for the next 8 hours. So it was just me and my upset stomach and the rain.

Well I don't know if it was the sickness or the homesickness, but I completely lost my appetite and hadn't the energy to walk upstairs, not to mention follow up with my regular work outs. I had slept maybe 40 hours in 3 days, though the slightest effort had me yawning and spacing out almost immediately. When Tuesday finally arrived, after a less-than-pleasant confrontation with the head honcho at my residencia, I opted for stretching my legs a bit and headed to my friend Raelene's apartment to hear all about her spring break in Italy and Greece. Just getting there left me winded, so I took the next cab for the hospital, where I spent 2 hours waiting to be seen before I came to the conclusion that it wasn't the stomach bug that was making me feel this way, but the homesickness. So I peaced out, scarfed down a slice on my way back to Sarria, and spent the next few hours developing a coping strategy for the next 7 weeks.

I'm feeling better now, thanks to the sweet words of a few dear friends and a little perspective. The weather's getting brighter, I've got a few projects underway for school, and I'm looking forward to a string of weekend excursions coming up. I'm still wary of food and haven't had an appetite for my go-to Coca-Cola Light since Sunday (I know. I AM sick.), but I'm back in the gym after a few easy goes at the elliptical.

I'm reminding myself every day that as soon as I return to NYC, I'll wish I were back in Barcelona. And on days when NYC seems far, I say to myself "7 weeks. You can do anything for 7 weeks." So while I miss you all at home, don't let me miss you too much. I have less than 2 months to get enough Spain in for the next several years.

<3

4.04.2010

"I think it's the pâté."

If it seems like I've been slightly absent from the online world this past week, it's because I have. I spent La Semana Santa galavanting around Barcelona with Ryan, who came to visit me over his holiday break. Fortunately, Ryan had already spent a few days in Barcelona seeing the sights last spring, and we share a passion for eating good food, so we basically just scheduled our excursions according to our food needs/wants. The rules are simple: 1. Each of us must order something different. 2. Each of us must try something new. 3. Dessert is always an option.

So Tuesday, after we found our hotel and got our bearings, we went hunting for some food near the Arc de Triomf area. We happened upon this very dignified-looking institution with white tablecloths and glass stemware called Harrison Restaurant. I got a veggie pizza and Ryan went for the duck, as usual. Everything seemed pretty legit, until Ryan shrewdly observed the restaurant's artwork, which was nothing short of a shrine to Harrison Ford. Needless to say, the place met our culinary needs but its name lost it a lot of cool points.

That night, Ryan humored me and my vegan alterego for dinner as we headed to my favorite place in El Raval, Organic. I feasted on the salad bar buffet of greens, couscous, hard boiled eggs, marinated veggies, beets, pasta salads, hummus dips, whole grain bread, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, and fresh vinaigrettes while Ryan tried the Oriental Wok, a stir-fry of veggies and tofu with sides of rice, salad, hummus, and pita. The "Mediterranean" cocktail of fresh squeezed OJ with mixed with cava definitely earned the prize for the day. For dessert I feasted on some York Peppermint Patties my mom sent me from home - no surprise there - and we watched Ave Ventura: Pet Detective, the most Spanish movie I could think of.

On Wednesday, we ventured further towards the city center and bumped into a nice Italian place. The food was good, though fairly nondescript - I mean, let's be honest, he's from Queens and we live in the Bronx so our expectations were fair. For dinner, we ironically went for a cuisine that hails from my home state: Mexican. But I already knew about the succulent offerings of the Rosa Negra, that authentic Mexican dig I spoke of early in regard to their daily €3.50 mojitoes, which truly can't be beat. We started with some chicken flautas and then I dove into my grilled shrimp salad while Ryan went with my suggestion of spicy pork soft tacos with sweet marinated onions.

Thursday I took Ryan to the place that saved me in my first week here as I was growing accustomed to a diet of ham, cheese, and potato omelette: Al Jaima, a Lebanese restaurant in the heart of L'Eixample. We shared the menu for two, which came with enough food for 6 people and included: hummus, babba ganoush, tabouli, lentils, falafel, spanakopita, croquettes, samosas, tomato and feta salad, tahini sauce, basmati rice and, of course, pita. YUM.

(Side note: on the way to lunch we crossed paths with a 64 year-old man riding a bicycle butt naked. I'm not sure what to say about it, I'm just letting you know that it happened.)

Also on the way to lunch, Ryan had noticed a marquee for Slava's SnowShow, a remarkably charming clown curio that began in Russia in the early 1990s. Ryan had seen it two years ago and was very disappointed when it hadn't returned to NYC for this past winter. The tickets were cheap enough, we decided that we'd splurge for a night at the theatre in Barcelona - best decision ever. The show was sweet and heartening, whimsical and avant-garde. These clowns were exactly what clowns should be, playful with a sort of tragic undertone, and the interactive element of the show made it fun for all ages. If you ever happen upon it, go.





After Slava's SnowShow, we scurried down the street to Tapas, 24, a new concept from Carles Abellan of the very popular Comerç 24. Since the menu really didn't translate, we just relied on the recommendations of others and decided to go with what sounded good: (1) grilled mozzarella, ham and truffle sandwiches, (2) fried artichokes, (3) curried lamb skewers, (4) the McFoie burger, (5) potato, egg, chorizo omelette, (6) fresh berry cheesecake, (7) chocolate fudge with sea salt, olive oil, and crouton chips. Needless to say, this was my best night in Barcelona by far, if only because of the fine company.

A very beautiful Good Friday found us both returning to La Fonda, a Barri Gotic staple that always has a line out the door. I had gazpacho and a salad of bacon, parmesan, mushrooms, raisins, and a light mushroom vinaigrette while Ryan opted for the La Fonda sampler and codfish and roasted red peppers in goat cheese sauce. It goes with out saying that we always share, so I learned that I love both codfish the fried baby squid on his sampler very much. See, for what I teach Ryan in the way of Organic hippie food, he teaches me about truly delicious seafood.

Speaking of which, I really wanted paella for dinner, so we returned to my favorite Organic for some vegetable paella, which I think is perhaps the best paella I've had yet. Then we ruined our nice nutritious dinner with some flan-flavored gelato, where we ran into the Good Friday parade, this disturbingly somber demonstration of the Passion that evidently creeps through the dark side streets of Barri Gotic every year. Finally, we headed to Rosa Negra for yet more of my favorite cocktail on Earth - this time I had a Raspberry Mojito - and some chips and guacamole at Rosa Negra, where we accidentally bumped into a few of my friends from both IQS and Fordham. Small world.



Finally, we woke up to a warm and sunny Holy Saturday and headed to Barceloneta for the week's grand finale: lunch at Torre d'Alta Mar, a restaurant 246 ft above ground on the Torre de Sant Sebastián, one of the three towers that serves the port-crossing, tourist-carrying cable car. The views were spectacular, though I probably spent more time gazing at the gastronomic landscape on the table. To start, the chef sent us an amuse bouche of some split-pea soup cream with foie gras powder on top and a spoonful of cockle with in cream cheese. All I know is that it was delicious, and that I owe everything I know about the term "amuse bouche" to Top Chef. We then shared vegetable toast with goat cheese and summer truffle. As entrees, I tried sea bass with zucchini 'ravioli,' mushrooms and mussel in a mustard cream sauce and Ryan went for broke with the wild pigeon over a mushroom rice risotto. Then we each ordered dessert: Greek yogurt mousse with Muesli and fresh strawberries, and spice rum bread with crème brulée ice cream. I licked the bowl clean, and then we died and went to heaven.







Actually, we just spent hours sunbathing/people-watching along the water. Then we went home, packed up, and headed out to the airport, where I left Ryan at 5am this morning until my return to the States. I'm the worst about goodbyes, but knowing that not a moment was wasted made the whole ordeal a bit easier as we gave thanks for Spain, spring and soul mates. (Note the food for thought.)

<3

P.S. - Happy Easter!

3.26.2010

Tryna Chyna

Ah! Okay! I'm so sorry, but since returning late Saturday night, I've had to get down to business on the homework assignments I missed. Now, on my first day of my spring vacation, I'll try to paint a picture of my experience in Beijing through a few quirky anecdotes.

Getting to Beijing was pretty easy. I left my room at 11am and headed to BCN airport for my 3:50pm flight. (You'll notice that I don't mess around anymore with flight times. Thank you, Seville.) The flight to Frankfurt was as pleasant as can be. I sat next to a lovely Spanish couple heading to Istanbul for the weekend with whom I discussed the best restaurants in Barcelona and the sights I shouldn't miss in Beijing. My window seat came in handy when we passed over the Swiss Alps, I only regret not having my camera on me because they were spectacular.

The flight from Frankfurt to Beijing was a quick 8 hours, most of which I slept through. As it turns out, my fellow GBHP-ers on Continental got to choose from over 300 movies to watch, as well as video games, TV shows, and music channels. My Air China plane was a little less equipped, offering only Mulan and The Forbidden Kingdom with Jet Li, Jackie Chan, and a whole cast of Chinese martial artists. Still airborne, I already felt in the thresholds of the communist regime. So I took an AdvilPM, came to only for meals, and landed in Beijing the next morning.

I had to wait a few hours before reuniting with my friends, so I celebrated globalization and went to Starbucks. I ordered a Green Tea Latte, which I figured was the most Chinese thing on the menu, and listened to my podcast. I learned Xiè xie (Thank you), Nǐ hǎo (Hello), Zie jian (Goodbye), Qǐng gěi wǒ zhège/nàge (I would like this/that), Fúwùyuán (Waiter), and Dùi bù qĭ (I'm sorry). I was ready.

Then GBHP's flight landed, and I spent the next week talking/catching up. It's among the best feelings in the world to see great friends after a very long time only to find out that getting along is just as easy as it always was. I mean, I didn't expect anything less, but the confirmation is always nice.

On the first full day we went to the Great Wall Mutianyu in a blistery cold snowstorm. It was the first snowstorm in Beijing since at least January - evidently, record-smashing snow just follows me wherever I go - but the weather made the site only more magnificent. You know that massive fantasy fortress you dreamed of as a child? We had it. With snowballs. As usual, my poor extremities had the hardest time retaining heat, so dinner at a hotpot restaurant (like fondue) was very welcome after the long day, after which most of us retired for the night.


J.Vo, Me, and Sidney at Great Wall Mutianyu, (C) Jim, who took 2800 photos with his new DSLR camera.

The next day we saw Tian'anmen Square, Forbidden City, the Drum Tower, the Old Hutong neighborhoods and the Houhai Lake area. Tian'anmen Square was kinda just concrete. I mean, it was awesome because of its history, but not all that aesthetically pleasing. Similarly, the Forbidden City was pretty outstanding in size and architectural splendor, but the extreme winter winds made it more of a test of endurance than a effortless afternoon of sightseeing. Of course, after a quick stop to buy hand-warmers (aka hot tea), we went onward to take a rickshaw through Old Hutong. Hutongs are narrow streets or alleys that divide the siheyuan courtyard residences that historically housed high-ranking officials of the Ming Dynasty. Now, however, the hutongs are in poor condition and are reserved for Beijing's poorer populations. We were lucky enough to have a peek inside one before heading to the Drum Tower. After a brief but intense drum show, we welcomed our dinner feast in Houhai, a lake in central Beijing that also boasts Beijing's best nightlife. So obviously we didn't go home after dinner. Best thing about Beijing night life: bargaining. Don't want to pay 20 kuai (USD $2.94) for a beer? After a few minutes of effective haggling, you can get that price down to 10 kuai per beer. We also had power in numbers. Traveling in packs meant we brought a lot of business to whomever offered the lowest price. Huge thrill.


Windy at Tian'anmen Square, (c) Jim.


GBHP Rickshaws through Hutongs.

The next day was the best, by far. If you think spending a day listening to lectures about China's history and business in China would be boring, you haven't met a certain managing director for a venture capital firm, neither of which shall be named in this post. Let's just say, he overstepped his 75-minute time limit by an hour and a half, and it became very apparent that he didn't really want to teach us anything, he just wanted to talk to Americans. Poor guy needed to get out of China pronto. He did have some inspiring quotes to share with us, though - none of which has any relevant application to business or life in China. In short, he was the biggest inside joke to ever happen to GBHP 2011 AND 2012 combined. Oh, dang!

That night we went to Wangfujing Street, a street of malls, souvenir shops, and a long strip of open-air booths selling everything from candied fruit to sea urchins - all on a stick. To start things off, Jake bought a snake. That's about the time I left, basically because Jake bought/ate a snake. As well as a silk worm, which wasn't to his liking. I had a nice vegetarian meal at a restaurant nearby with a few guys from GBHP 2012, after which I deeply regretted not getting to know them last year. I truly enjoyed spending a week with the class of 2012 as much as I did with 2011.


Wangfujing's Delectable Offerings.

The Silk and Pearl Markets were next on the agenda, which meant more bargaining. The bargaining effect could easily have been the most exciting element of our trip. Imagine thirty some-odd college-aged business students with a passion for dealmaking in a country where goods are cheap and a great buy is only a haggle away. Result? We went to three markets and some of us went back for more. Silk ties, leather jackets, knock-off watches, pearls, jade, custom-made suits, prescription glasses - you name, we bought it. EVERYTHING WAS SO CHEAP. I proved myself to be a pretty masterful negotiator, following the advice of my management teacher last year: Never set the anchor price, don't talk too much, and always identify your BATNA ("Best Alternative To the Negotiated Agreement"), which in this case was the price the anonymous/non-existent vendor down the hall was offering. Win.

Thursday night we accompanied our friend Yves to a Dadong Roast Duck Restaurant in Jinbao Place, a very ritzy luxury shopping center that also houses a 5-star cinema. Yves' kind parents insisted that we eat the best of Chinese cuisine to fully understand the country's history and culture. Remember when I said my life's dream is to go to El Bulli? Well I could probably die happy now never having stepped foot in the place because Dadong was an out-of-this-world gastronomic experience. The food looked like art, the flavors were new, and the company was perfect. We were spoiled.

We sat in a private room at a table with a Lazy Susan that may have been 8 or 10 feet in diameter. The table was already packed with delectable little appetizers that looked almost too good to eat, including variations of a Chinese sesame ball filled with red bean paste, which is actually sweet! Of course, Dadong is best know for their roast duck, which is only 15% fat in comparison to the average 40%. Beijing roast duck is served on a plate with sugar, a BBQ-type sauce, julienned veggies, and a very thin pancake-like wrap with which to make a little duck burrito of sorts. The roast duck in sugar was a sweet and salty snack with lots of crunch.

I won't torment you with details of the rest of our dinner, but some of the highlights were pasta noodles made out of lobster meat, Eastern Star fish soup in a lobster broth, bamboo shoots, and two desserts. The first included a martini glass of tiramisu, candied cherry apples stuffed with chocolate, fresh melon and kiwis, and mango ice cream. Yes, yes. This is indeed my dream dessert. The other was a chocolate land mine filled with chocolate 'debris' and candies made of chocolate and pop rocks.


Dessert #1 had Mad Game.

The entire thing included maybe 30 courses, the majority of which I fear I've eventually forgotten, though the three shots of baiju may be more to blame than the passage of time for that. Gan bei!

The trip ended with a visit with a final company visit from The Nielsen Company's branch in China so that was obviously my favorite. Afterwards we booked it to the Summer Palace, a garden almost 2 miles in area, most of which is actually water. While the Great Wall was breathtaking, this was my favorite part of the trip if only because the weather was much more agreeable. It was a bit foggy, but I think this added to the quiet mysteriousness of the garden and Beijing, in general. Cameras always at hand, the crew got a number of Facebook-worthy pics before taking the subway back to the hotel to get ready for our traditional Chinese show and dinner.


Summer Palace. Note the brand new PRADA prescription glasses for USD $30.

The last stop on the Beijing whirlwind tour was obviously Olympic Park. I had been told that it's best to see at night, all lit up. So I stood in awe of the Bird's Nest and the Cube, where Michael Phelps made history. It would have been better to have seen the Olympics, but not a bad view overall.


Dan, Me, Jake @ Da Cube.

Saturday, I got up early to pack and sneak out before my GBHP colleagues to head back to Barcelona. 21 hours of total traveling with a -7 hour time change made for a late Saturday night and a disorienting Sunday, but I took the advice of my worldly Uncle Greg and worked out as soon as I could to get me back on track. Now, I'm just biding my time until Tuesday, when I finally get to spend time with my bff, Ryan. Greatness.

Gah. That was a long post. Thank you so much for reading through to the end - I promise never wait so long to blog again.

Hasta pronto!

<3

P.S. - Yes, the bathrooms in China were pretty miserable. And remember the nifty tissues that I bought in case I should ever be stranded hovering over one of these holes without toilet paper? Turns out I accidentally bought offensively fragrant lavender-scented ones - not helpful.

3.08.2010

Winter Weather Warning

Yeah! March is finally here! Spring is almost here! Warm weather is so close I can feel it!

Annnnd it's snowing. Don't worry, though. Weather.com is quick to inform me that it's only 41°F and raining. Nice one.

Check here for Twitter updates (including photos and news articles) about Barcelona's own snowpocalypse. Classes were called off, though I don't have school on Mondays, and trees fell down on the street outside my residencia