tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89262171279685535032024-02-07T12:39:52.677-08:00Gigante in Waitingzerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-59799965101795703692012-02-07T12:47:00.000-08:002012-02-07T12:48:57.624-08:00Day Seven: ButtonI was at work, getting slightly bored with the task on hand, when it suddenly dawned on me that I had not yet looked at what today's photo challenge theme would be. I quickly searched the interwebs for the list and a huge smirk drew across my face as I read number seven: "button". What did I happen to be working on at the time?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96Kf8ZxmyNaizu9sqP4q-SjbitVSGEbM_CLTnmw4gTxq5SJneKPfvfeYY0Kd4oUWtyTdtfxuTvU2QxQ5zoZ6icVOYa9oegKjvPVKmu4Y4Tj4GN_8T_OQ9yr3VvRmzTbhNWnWNYET3Y1Q/s1600/IMG_0802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96Kf8ZxmyNaizu9sqP4q-SjbitVSGEbM_CLTnmw4gTxq5SJneKPfvfeYY0Kd4oUWtyTdtfxuTvU2QxQ5zoZ6icVOYa9oegKjvPVKmu4Y4Tj4GN_8T_OQ9yr3VvRmzTbhNWnWNYET3Y1Q/s640/IMG_0802.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Many buttons! After debating for a second about whether or not to post current "designs" on the web, be it only as it may on my humble blog, I thought, "meh, they're buttons". Besides, how could I not take the bate?</div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-30618217205525617422012-02-06T15:07:00.000-08:002012-02-06T15:07:36.267-08:00Day Six: Dinner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr-DzNH_5fScPGa3edc40O5gmRiK75zA-v-YjmMGTiIjGnXNoVOLxwm1_YlBvKwy6FyHoGhOlR_DKrLBNLg4B_x1XBHX4wO4fwdESEBSE5YCBeFLcRQRZjmsXa1FPai_xCpNNlRwxRA-k/s1600/400132_10100609258523048_21720079_52019393_424069695_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr-DzNH_5fScPGa3edc40O5gmRiK75zA-v-YjmMGTiIjGnXNoVOLxwm1_YlBvKwy6FyHoGhOlR_DKrLBNLg4B_x1XBHX4wO4fwdESEBSE5YCBeFLcRQRZjmsXa1FPai_xCpNNlRwxRA-k/s1600/400132_10100609258523048_21720079_52019393_424069695_n.jpeg" /></a></div>
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This is another one of David's and my favorite new dinners. It's kind of a vamped up pico de gallo with shrimp!</div>
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<i>Ingredients:</i></div>
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<i>Chopped onion, tomato and avocado</i></div>
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<i>Cocktail shrimp</i></div>
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<i>Chopped cilantro (or cilantro paste)</i></div>
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<i>Lime juice and salt to taste</i></div>
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<i>Instructions:</i></div>
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<i>Toss it all together in a bowl (or as we like to do, in a dessert goblet) and serve with tortilla chips.</i></div>
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It's so easy, healthy and delicious, and I recommend you try it!</div>
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I'm totally pooped as we have been going non-stop since I got back into the city after work. Intensive grocery shopping, and then many household chores. We finally sat down for dinner at 11:30 PM! (With an episode of The Nanny!) It is so beyond time for bed! Good night! (Or good afternoon to you lucky western hemisphere dwellers!)</div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-21654581342867931822012-02-05T14:24:00.000-08:002012-02-05T14:24:32.726-08:00Day Five: 10 AM<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCB9-1FhzZwiIU07crYnTs5j0lkGJH3pZrsCO_wRqRQcHMfsFqZRmJXDMjsZa_H70UMf7f-3afpHWyfhfK3B8o1DFYQsVdXtLdGx5DKHfGDfZlGW_qmYmTLebxhAFiFXiCUuwkMvy_TA/s1600/394078_10100605576177498_21720079_52008651_1374478700_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCB9-1FhzZwiIU07crYnTs5j0lkGJH3pZrsCO_wRqRQcHMfsFqZRmJXDMjsZa_H70UMf7f-3afpHWyfhfK3B8o1DFYQsVdXtLdGx5DKHfGDfZlGW_qmYmTLebxhAFiFXiCUuwkMvy_TA/s1600/394078_10100605576177498_21720079_52008651_1374478700_n.jpeg" /></a></div>
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I can't believe I'm still going at this, guys! Yay me! I also can't believe I waited until 11 PM (11:11 actually!—wish made!) on Sunday night to write about Sunday morning! It's just depressing!<br />
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Anyway, this morning was idyllic. David still sleeping soundly, I got cozy on the couch for my weekend blog catch-up. I made my coffee and put it in my very special mug. My dear friend, Christine, made it for me in a <a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">NaNoWriMo</a> get-together. It says, <i>The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page</i>, a sentiment I truly comprehend. Recently I decided it was just too awesome to keep only as decoration and started putting it use.<br />
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It's been another long, relaxing, lazy kind of day. And I can actually say that I'm looking forward to getting out of the house tomorrow, just not the going to work and the getting up early part. Hopefully the week will breeze by and we'll be celebrating our first anniversary (one week from today!) in no time!<br />
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To those of you in the US, happy Superbowl! Enjoy the commercials for me!zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-47476033264396921332012-02-04T12:35:00.000-08:002012-02-04T12:35:06.590-08:00Day Four: A Stranger<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today's theme had me in a little bit of a panic. I thought, "How am I going to take a photo of a stranger?! Especially if I don't plan on leaving the house today?!". Well, as it turns out, I did end up leaving the house, but only for a quick (and startling cold) morning jog. I still hadn't glanced at today's theme, but even if I had, I probably would have been <b>against</b> the idea of running up to a stranger on the footpath to snap a quick photo. Plus it probably would have turned out annoying blurry.</div>
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Later it dawned on me<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">—</span>and this isn't a cop-out<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">—</span>all I needed to do was take a simple portrait. I've been dealing with a sort of identity crisis for the past several months. I think it's totally to be expected for any person rounding off his first year of marriage, especially if said person has also spent the past 18 months in an entirely new country. </div>
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The issues are there, but I'm working them out, and I'm optimistic. But still, there are days when I struggle with getting in touch with myself. I soak in long day dreams of my past in a effort to grasp the sense of identity I once prided myself on and now covet. I know, I know, I'm not going to find this by looking backward! It's a habit I need to break completely, and with the help of my supportive husband, I am taking some huge strides in this area.</div>
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So anyway, the photo of the day is a portrait of myself, a photo that's actually so reminiscent of so many old ones I have of myself that it actually makes me feel a bit nostalgic, and a little bit closer to my corporeal and spiritual center. And that, my friends, is therapy by Instagram.</div>
<br />zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-12592873648860104612012-02-03T11:32:00.000-08:002012-02-05T14:24:47.514-08:00Day Three: Hands<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7UDjJpIaMHZErg0Z0qfv10Qul2kwzF8E42Jryi_MIjMf3oP_NctBQqaqSaZnQ6Mp83Ba-puEho_ynBSG_QfUxfj9D4YA-_xvpNGilbClMtr4NHRkc97_A3_YwvXet_LW3Gj9JXiZWXc/s1600/421790_10100601364367998_21720079_51997000_1548894810_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7UDjJpIaMHZErg0Z0qfv10Qul2kwzF8E42Jryi_MIjMf3oP_NctBQqaqSaZnQ6Mp83Ba-puEho_ynBSG_QfUxfj9D4YA-_xvpNGilbClMtr4NHRkc97_A3_YwvXet_LW3Gj9JXiZWXc/s1600/421790_10100601364367998_21720079_51997000_1548894810_n.jpeg" /></a></div>
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So I'm feeling much better today. I probably could have gone to work, but I think it was a legitimately better idea not to. It's freakishly cold here right now due to the Siberian cold front (It's been snowing in Rome and Istanbul! Eek!) and I'm still tired and with the slight hurting of the throat. So, I spent another day resting alone. And boy has it been nice.</div>
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David informed me at around 3 this afternoon that our friend Elena's surprise party was tonight, not Saturday as we had both thought. They were going to meet up at a place downtown where you pay for the site and drinks and have something resembling a potluck. David decided to make his healthy pizzas that we have been freaking out over lately. Basically it's just a ready-made crust, sliced vine-ripe tomatoes and onions, fresh mushrooms, a drizzle of olive oil, salt, pepper and basil. It's disturbingly good in its simplicity!</div>
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So, I helped him, snapped a few photos (these are his fingers) and then watched him as he carted them away in a box (*Sob*). Yes, I have decided to stay at home and rest. My idea was that if I do so, I have a pretty decent chance of being 95% back to normal tomorrow. If that were to happen, I could get back on the work-out wagon and perhaps even enjoy a productive weekend!</div>
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For now it is back to Buffy and/or Final Fantasy with plenty of hot tea and chocolate.</div>
<br />zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-84767281959535752792012-02-02T11:39:00.000-08:002012-02-04T12:49:55.532-08:00Day Two: Words<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well it is day two, and although it took me most of the day to get around to it, here I am, sticking to <a href="http://www.fatmumslim.com.au/2012/01/february-photo-day-kicks-off-tomorrow.html">my commitment</a>! I can totally handle this, February is a short month! Leap year, shmeap year!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, today I called in sick. Despite being under the weather, I was actually able to enjoy the bit of R&R and embraced my opportunity indulge in old habits.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVFDjv2BhRMiENk44WvEw3mdAoQcdC0tTUoi6wvJNz8NB_foOTIaWrEGZDFev3J0niruz3msKZNY_bN11IhpwtaFOtf3SWrnEyASsEJe0F2Zoeyf0Z3cnr9AsA72RnboN296KwphMOYo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVFDjv2BhRMiENk44WvEw3mdAoQcdC0tTUoi6wvJNz8NB_foOTIaWrEGZDFev3J0niruz3msKZNY_bN11IhpwtaFOtf3SWrnEyASsEJe0F2Zoeyf0Z3cnr9AsA72RnboN296KwphMOYo/s640/photo.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Not long ago, before I even had permission to work in Spain, I spent countless days reliving the glory days. Well, perhaps "glory days" is a bit too affectionate a term to describe the various comatose Buffy marathons my cousin Shelly and I have shared, but believe me, it was <b>magical</b>. Today I got to pop in a DVD or two (or three...) and veg out in the company of some familiar situations and some great old friends.</div>
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I realize this show can be pretty cheesy, but when viewed as it was designed to be (consecutively and pretty much nonstop) it's easy to recognize how truly original, thoughtful and remarkable the series is. Joss Whedon (creator, writer and director) will always have a place in my heart, not just because of Buffy and his numerous other works of art, but also for creating a platform that helped bring my cousin/bestie and I back together after a couple year hiatus and forged a bond that's resistance and strength rival that of the slayer herself. </div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-90578976085515064982012-02-01T09:35:00.000-08:002012-02-01T09:35:22.368-08:00FEBRUARY :: photo a day challengeSo, I've been meaning to start bloggin' again. And I've also been wanting to use Instagram more often. When I discovered <a href="http://www.fatmumslim.com.au/2012/01/february-photo-day-kicks-off-tomorrow.html">this challenge</a> on sécias's blog, <a href="http://petiteinsanities.blogspot.com/">petite insanities</a> (<3), I immediately knew this would be a great way to kill two birds with one stone.<br />
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<a href="http://www.fatmumslim.com.au/2012/01/february-photo-day-kicks-off-tomorrow.html"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfqBYUpuI7hC4bU8gs6Yk0PlvYAKtYsCtVvGIEgMVkqR-LJTUZEEHb5RqcgY6U8Ri7Hgdl-M9h0G4xcStFotCISIP2ojlVYgQEFrurEsAnrE9IhUTt9NA5Sj2yWj7Uk0a512_PjzCGAM/s640/feb2-final2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The idea is to take a photograph reflecting each day's theme and then post it to Twitter, Instagram, or any social network of your choice. I decided to kick it up a notch. In addition to posting the photo on Instagram, I'll repost it along with a brief description here on my blog! I think it will be a fun and easy way to get back into the habit of blogging and a great way to utilize my long commute time!<br />
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So, let's begin with today!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNZsJqeP52BQ1Qr-JiRI-p8XxIBUb8CDzMB8b6lMskkjRPVNx97_lNMtwjvJ0GS2G0IowcP6LlxfyJvU2q5JkvbD4CJATsDUL6q6pIJA0YtNv1yvjxhK8PJz48e0Z3XxQyCrmnj_noko/s1600/427118_10100595909055488_21720079_51983531_1133571424_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNZsJqeP52BQ1Qr-JiRI-p8XxIBUb8CDzMB8b6lMskkjRPVNx97_lNMtwjvJ0GS2G0IowcP6LlxfyJvU2q5JkvbD4CJATsDUL6q6pIJA0YtNv1yvjxhK8PJz48e0Z3XxQyCrmnj_noko/s1600/427118_10100595909055488_21720079_51983531_1133571424_n.jpeg" /></a></div>
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Today I was feeling kind of like the weather. Cold and mildly crappy. As the day progressed, I realized that my presence at work was rather pointless as the most I could do was stare at my screen and almost kind of stay awake. At lunch time, a couple of coworkers told me I wasn't looking so hot, and that maybe I should get a ride to the train station and go home to rest. I thought, well hey, why not!<br />
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So, I got a ride with a coworker, and took the one-point-five-hour-long train ride along the coast back to Barcelona. As we cruised by the numerous beaches, devoid of all life save a few devoted runners, I thought that this image was a good metaphor for what it is like to leave work early when you are sick. It's exactly kind of like a sandy beach with palm trees... in the cold, wet rain.<br />
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<br />zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-35723363358669241262011-10-30T05:29:00.000-07:002011-11-02T02:47:12.692-07:00Weekend in Paradise Part Two<u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">After <b><i>much</i></b> delay:</span></u><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to wake up at a decent
hour when your day’s plans don’t involve work? The morning after
our spa appointment and lakeside stroll, we woke up ready and willing
to start our day. We got ready and packed, and then headed down to
the hotel restaurant for a wonderful breakfast—complete with
mimosas! In no time we were on the road again.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Perhaps I should have taken a second look at the route I had
planned on the iPhone's GPS. Again, Michigan boy here, I naturally
interpreted the large green blob of land that we would have to cross as
a “woodsy area” or something. This is exactly why 3D smart phones are a good idea! A half hour later, as David
cautiously navigated the tight corners of the barrier-less,
cliff-side road , silence came over us as we both attempted to
conceal our nerves (and in my case—outright terror). Knowing
that my life was in his hands, and also knowing that any one of the
numerous cyclists who kept appearing around the bend could send us
over the edge, I bit my tongue, gripped my door handle and tried to
admire the beauty of the expansive views.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Somehwere near the peak, we decided to pull over and check out a church. We'd been slowly climbing the mountain for about an hour, the past half hour of which was devoid of any sign of civilization. If I was impressed by the fact that someone had decided to build a church here at all, imagine how I looked at it when I found out it was built in the twelfth century!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0kal2E5gO6VGglT2pGms27QwrVqozVfVOvzFuljVwaS-t3Re0AXcIGmUHztVG716js_B6j7uEXmRqOGsHrbnwSKdPCwdnCHGipwygTIx7XtQ2oZhGAAVslE2QcUUqqAvrJi7D9_Nfh4/s1600/DSC07098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0kal2E5gO6VGglT2pGms27QwrVqozVfVOvzFuljVwaS-t3Re0AXcIGmUHztVG716js_B6j7uEXmRqOGsHrbnwSKdPCwdnCHGipwygTIx7XtQ2oZhGAAVslE2QcUUqqAvrJi7D9_Nfh4/s640/DSC07098.JPG" width="480" /></span></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The views were amazing, you could see all the way to the coastline. We took a few photos, and got back in the car, ecstatic to begin the trek down the other side of the mountain.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Soon, we were nearing our first destination. The week prior, I was talking to a coworker about the trip we were planning to take. Since he was familiar with Gerona, he offered some advice. Based on his descriptions of each of the villages, we drew up our itinerary. First on the route was Peratallada. A medieval village that was tiny and compact.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-SNyR2EHNzBsWLK9ufvAeraCRXc5aZf8ldIjIKLqD1p6XN-KAvz0kq9xZQJhUGOkwscuE9rq8yQx2o3eYT4gYpNx1dVHiRxQtURu5GAM9sOF9SOoUHs08pT74BK6dO78mEXA77VDuJiw/s1600/DSC07118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-SNyR2EHNzBsWLK9ufvAeraCRXc5aZf8ldIjIKLqD1p6XN-KAvz0kq9xZQJhUGOkwscuE9rq8yQx2o3eYT4gYpNx1dVHiRxQtURu5GAM9sOF9SOoUHs08pT74BK6dO78mEXA77VDuJiw/s640/DSC07118.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The most astonishing thing about this village was how pristine and well-kept everything was! Also, there wasn't a single building within the town limits that wasn't from the medieval era. This combined with the scale and cleanness of it all made it very surreal to explore. It was hard to remember that we weren't in a theme park, that this was actually the real deal!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08j2_ws8LnkkpGMjRkI9tA8tsEW76c4xxr4f_Ywzy6ccBqWdjgd55fAB3S7LQ5sVcDYqMlGVX-gmsX6rkEU7OYBUDzMMu8s2eWwTaguNQQBxaFTQbRE4E7RjK3puJEM3I4E063uEYMtg/s1600/DSC07119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08j2_ws8LnkkpGMjRkI9tA8tsEW76c4xxr4f_Ywzy6ccBqWdjgd55fAB3S7LQ5sVcDYqMlGVX-gmsX6rkEU7OYBUDzMMu8s2eWwTaguNQQBxaFTQbRE4E7RjK3puJEM3I4E063uEYMtg/s640/DSC07119.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">There were so many interesting and unique things to look at! And all with in a five-block-or-so radius!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9GM2J4733VT9C7TnQS1Kg1LRmg-vT6l8F85RmBXSX6yJCQv9gQlyndLHmpsWshNwcSsK2Lg3tWDTvO34nZ0JhlbSKG5bup_iKX2t-VRV5mJPdyeMPVcmtsMy4v7e3H-8ObSWGJ4CKKU/s1600/DSC07146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9GM2J4733VT9C7TnQS1Kg1LRmg-vT6l8F85RmBXSX6yJCQv9gQlyndLHmpsWshNwcSsK2Lg3tWDTvO34nZ0JhlbSKG5bup_iKX2t-VRV5mJPdyeMPVcmtsMy4v7e3H-8ObSWGJ4CKKU/s640/DSC07146.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Adding to the theme park feel were the numerous tourist-oriented business that formed the majority of Peratallada's commerce. Most of the shops sold artisan crafts, unique artwork and souvenirs. Glass blowing is popular in this region, so there were many shops dedicated to that. There were also several accommodations for the size of the town, and many bars and restaurants, all which had a lot of character.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibg8vgldhWL8sebNH1Qp2GlxMp2KYiTL85RQmaTDmPqqaHwv7ul6FYr-277jg2WxoADHcwhlghLVryzsofugYiVBBobJXIUMsA5q_j8mbDl_01i5324BKTp0x9YiF9T_fBW6wI38imG4A/s1600/DSC07176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibg8vgldhWL8sebNH1Qp2GlxMp2KYiTL85RQmaTDmPqqaHwv7ul6FYr-277jg2WxoADHcwhlghLVryzsofugYiVBBobJXIUMsA5q_j8mbDl_01i5324BKTp0x9YiF9T_fBW6wI38imG4A/s640/DSC07176.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">There were so many photo ops in such a small space!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtb0o6IM6eKKggzlXbedSCXTmKoarmGV5BybgKcUA_-TJNRx9vlVlFGNDOihEF3UgaEzWr2LcC7DtbJIUVqiug_JIkN5WoIIvA-7CkybC1fKKa65_2xr51IHE-9pQ4RanlS11DqGuqEBw/s1600/DSC07182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtb0o6IM6eKKggzlXbedSCXTmKoarmGV5BybgKcUA_-TJNRx9vlVlFGNDOihEF3UgaEzWr2LcC7DtbJIUVqiug_JIkN5WoIIvA-7CkybC1fKKa65_2xr51IHE-9pQ4RanlS11DqGuqEBw/s640/DSC07182.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I was ecstatic to see the moat! Living in America, the only castles I had seen were <a href="http://www.dupontcastle.com/castles/curwood.htm">Curwood</a>'s and Sleeping Beauty's, so every time I see something from this time period as iconic as a moat, it makes quite a deep impact on me!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZDlGuCnPGjOof6xwWm-lKrrRAQ-w6rAkvlqbNpLkcugQnYh9Piv0ECbtHcXOH77Ic-eY-KK1hD2S_gXbfMqFVx2tZ7C1qg1ObvpSkYaCuW5VL9depXgTG3kqqgUChoNMk493OLZg8FI/s1600/DSC07191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZDlGuCnPGjOof6xwWm-lKrrRAQ-w6rAkvlqbNpLkcugQnYh9Piv0ECbtHcXOH77Ic-eY-KK1hD2S_gXbfMqFVx2tZ7C1qg1ObvpSkYaCuW5VL9depXgTG3kqqgUChoNMk493OLZg8FI/s640/DSC07191.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I loved the top of the structure above. It looks so ancient!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Next on the itinerary: Pals, which was also one of my coworker's suggestions. As soon as he started describing it to me, I was on board. Pals is another, larger medieval town—Gerona is just full of these gems! The real charm of this village comes from viewing it from afar! The whole thing is nestled on a tiny a little hill in the middle of a vast plain. I tried to get the perfect photo as we were approaching, but alas, I failed! I suppose this means I have a reason to go back!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIR_WLVuiyH09jVZ7cZ5XDmlSkdVBzCtBLsS2Xu_YlOI2ciAfaA_2FUyDhCe0OUCMOHjjZMHWF7KP-aSl3GtNqWbthunLp2p8JTERHgmJbhWAoL7Rsl3uri-HYmrUz66xtlHrkRbfvgM/s1600/DSC07203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIR_WLVuiyH09jVZ7cZ5XDmlSkdVBzCtBLsS2Xu_YlOI2ciAfaA_2FUyDhCe0OUCMOHjjZMHWF7KP-aSl3GtNqWbthunLp2p8JTERHgmJbhWAoL7Rsl3uri-HYmrUz66xtlHrkRbfvgM/s640/DSC07203.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">After having just experienced Peratallada, the initial impression of Pals wasn't quite as strong. Imagine getting used to looking at <b><i>this</i></b>!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSQQREf1x6iX5sAnUNCVOmf7HyWsghQm_nujQmX-ccwVt8Aa8MaHsRBhtcHFAV_PKbUDbaFSd3H897bFoe52G1iF8fZAWnR-jBWn9A1QSobsGcHDzXSXGYISdq1tLZEk5xyxmFGXKtQ8/s1600/DSC07204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSQQREf1x6iX5sAnUNCVOmf7HyWsghQm_nujQmX-ccwVt8Aa8MaHsRBhtcHFAV_PKbUDbaFSd3H897bFoe52G1iF8fZAWnR-jBWn9A1QSobsGcHDzXSXGYISdq1tLZEk5xyxmFGXKtQ8/s640/DSC07204.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Really, it was just like that last town we saw on a larger scale.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqvFtudmDYHOoPZVg3GFb9IYQYKxNoaokuOAlEdeb5fUC2aVsbuyPLAFH0CwTx_mRMce6ArFF_VFrU6Wy1dQS3Jduel06fzDYa6YfSjqA5rpJUXdAs0gJomMXXsbkfMK68_ipXAgviXo/s1600/DSC07210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqvFtudmDYHOoPZVg3GFb9IYQYKxNoaokuOAlEdeb5fUC2aVsbuyPLAFH0CwTx_mRMce6ArFF_VFrU6Wy1dQS3Jduel06fzDYa6YfSjqA5rpJUXdAs0gJomMXXsbkfMK68_ipXAgviXo/s640/DSC07210.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Straight. Out of. FINAL. FANTASY!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This was somebody's yard! And that, my friends, is what dreams are made of!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We zig-zagged our way up the narrow streets and eventually made it to a lookout at the top of the hill, which provided an incredible view of these islands. We had originally seen them from the church I mentioned at the beginning of this post. It was here that we decided to chance our course. They were so close and so awesome looking! How could we not check them out!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">At this point can you still believe we did all of this in one weekend?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">As we descended back down the hill, I saw this father/daughter duo sitting on their balcony just observing people as they passed by. I know that's exactly what I would spend a lot of my time doing if I lived there!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Back in the car, we reset the GPS on the David's iPhone. Those crazy islands, which by now I had learned were called Medas Islands, had beckoned us, and we were on our way.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">David became obsessed with the castle perched on top of this mountain! Our route took us right to the foot of the mountain where there happened to be a cute little town. We want to go back and explore this place someday!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">By the time we got to L'estartit, we were parched and famished. This coastal town was the most touristy place we'd been to all weekend, but the street we decided to eat on lined the marina and provided a decent view of the sea and the islands. We ordered are favorite tapas and some tall beers.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">While we dined, the sun finally emerged from the clouds, instantly raising the temperature at least 15 degrees, so after lunch we headed back to the car to change into our swim suits and flip flops. Then we went and bought tickets for a mini-cruise along the Costa Brava and Medas Islands.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">For those of you unfamiliar with the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Costa_Brava">Costa Brava</a>, which means "Rugged Coast" or "Wild Coast", it's the seaside strip that stretches from Blanes (an hour north of Barcelona near where I work) to the French border.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> It's named such because of the steep and rocky terrain that distinguishes it greatly from the Barcelona and Tarragona coastlines. It is hard to believe that so much awesome is packed into one little province. It made me feel truly lucky to live in Spain!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The boat hugged the coast, providing amazing views. But we decided that the next time we go, we're going to rent one of these smaller boats, meant for groups of about four people. It doesn't cost much more, and as you can see, the views must be even more intense!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjTXMwdG6jozXL7DUWwqvyHLep6GLzhttP-yx2L0xQ71SzoLrC28akmhC4PioNqcHvyYSUnzyuisfEQ60sevfHW2Bpg9T0oVz-bZaHOVH_tl1-c0Q_BzWIHn5B7z0YtQN91v3qVQToHE/s1600/DSC07294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjTXMwdG6jozXL7DUWwqvyHLep6GLzhttP-yx2L0xQ71SzoLrC28akmhC4PioNqcHvyYSUnzyuisfEQ60sevfHW2Bpg9T0oVz-bZaHOVH_tl1-c0Q_BzWIHn5B7z0YtQN91v3qVQToHE/s640/DSC07294.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">On the way back towards the islands, we made our way to the bow of the boat. We were bouncing up and down so much, it felt like my stomach was doing somersaults! I think I was giggling more than the little boy standing next to me! SO MUCH FUN!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The boat did a little route around the islands. On the other side, the captain called group by group to go down to the lower level of the boat. Large windows allowed us to observe large schools of glittering fish navigate the reef below.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When the cruise was over, we decided to get in the car and head back to Barcelona. We had done so much, and had no trouble concluding our trip. We'd had some serious R&R and plenty of adventure! I've never taken so much advantage of a weekend before! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBiUFY4KDP0szxgNp1QUZ1FbzT9qoNiv18hZdDSsTu-7NnXDMDIxujlp0b_5u9QIJtU37eJ9gRQCmUjolbAYGTcegfBFypRxjNxkZv-p0hrG6rwLpIPg9OoksAA1OBljmTypB-7BtfDs/s1600/DSC07310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBiUFY4KDP0szxgNp1QUZ1FbzT9qoNiv18hZdDSsTu-7NnXDMDIxujlp0b_5u9QIJtU37eJ9gRQCmUjolbAYGTcegfBFypRxjNxkZv-p0hrG6rwLpIPg9OoksAA1OBljmTypB-7BtfDs/s640/DSC07310.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-82458199047260490122011-09-10T07:18:00.000-07:002011-09-10T07:21:23.942-07:00Weekend in Paradise Part One<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sometimes I look at fellow bloggers' posts documenting their recent mini excursions or road trips and I can't help but think to myself... <i>I won</i>. It's not <i>their</i> fault. Not everyone has some of the most amazing landscapes and impossibly charming villages so close to home.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This past weekend ended up being a big deal. For a long time, David and I had been contemplating cashing in the lovely gift that Sonia and Manuel had given us for our wedding. It was a Smart Box, one of those gift certificates that comes with a booklet of several options. As soon as we opened it, we knew we were going to go with a spa day. So, last week, we finally selected a date and facility, and decided to make it into an event. We booked a night in the same hotel as the spa. I consulted with a coworker to find out which little towns in the surrounding area would be the most worth checking out. The week slowly but surely came to an end, and Saturday morning—bright and early—we were north-bound, giddy to embark on a long-overdue adventure!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">MENU. MUSIC. ARTISTS: GLEE. SONGS: ALL. GO! Despite the GPS sporadically tweaking David's nerves a bit, the drive was a blast! It was totally reminiscent of all the road trips we used to make together out of Columbus (Chicago, Michigan, Pittsburg, Cincinnati...). We arrived at the hotel and promptly took in what would be our home for the next twenty four hours.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsIwEmHPR9qNLK2NeGTzu48nHWVL-axo2iOteAdKynsCBVFxHkgRUW8r-VcehgtbwmMGopZxrFp0kIk3_hXcbvHFjlyb6sNEfwhDtUob9dzhxurMjgGCD58BVlGpoUqGPa47bfLabH04/s1600/DSC07081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsIwEmHPR9qNLK2NeGTzu48nHWVL-axo2iOteAdKynsCBVFxHkgRUW8r-VcehgtbwmMGopZxrFp0kIk3_hXcbvHFjlyb6sNEfwhDtUob9dzhxurMjgGCD58BVlGpoUqGPa47bfLabH04/s400/DSC07081.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Old Wing, where our room was.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_C0Y3ecuUpoQBOMFLP35wNRrfgt7G3MzSUVmfVoLHuQ3N5zsH9_BxPilhvX7y59cE2qJK9iYlX5YnYtrNAK8mR14QtMhs_bO6Fp2i9gPCzEOMZkqbeQlqGFXdoJNexOJBVMopJ2jLz8/s1600/DSC07075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_C0Y3ecuUpoQBOMFLP35wNRrfgt7G3MzSUVmfVoLHuQ3N5zsH9_BxPilhvX7y59cE2qJK9iYlX5YnYtrNAK8mR14QtMhs_bO6Fp2i9gPCzEOMZkqbeQlqGFXdoJNexOJBVMopJ2jLz8/s400/DSC07075.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Grand Staircase</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqxq2Sl07pKoiVh4ivdkLqeS3oDlFqvckBnruDQ4kJcg0UXeJ12KsfKDgj3b9hIMuMDxA4RVo5O6oBeMvt-HylOuT0VhAzgkhzdTksBmOcGUJQ0dbLOoGrGXO2TdBjZ0r5bnvkwXhuzI/s1600/DSC07079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqxq2Sl07pKoiVh4ivdkLqeS3oDlFqvckBnruDQ4kJcg0UXeJ12KsfKDgj3b9hIMuMDxA4RVo5O6oBeMvt-HylOuT0VhAzgkhzdTksBmOcGUJQ0dbLOoGrGXO2TdBjZ0r5bnvkwXhuzI/s400/DSC07079.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">Cute little common area by our room.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After check-in, we went up to our room to leave our belongings and change into our swim suits and robes. Our spa appointment was at 11:30, so we headed right down.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I have <b>never</b> relaxed as much as I did that afternoon! The name of the hotel is the <a href="http://www.balneariovichycatalan.com/en/">Vichy Catalan</a>, which is also the name of a brand of sparkling mineral water (of which the factory is right next door). The Spa's theme was this special water, which is supposedly, due to the minerals, beneficial to the body in many ways. We began our session with an hour in the thermal circuit. This entailed a giant jacuzzi filled with Vichy Catalan, two amazing saunas, as well a strange path of smooth stones and water jets meant to massage your legs and feet.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After this luxurious hour, we had an inhalation session. For about a half hour, we sat in front of tube that expelled Vichy steam in our faces. It sounds ridiculous, but it was one of the most relaxing experiences of my life! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next, we were taken up on an elevator for the main event. An hour-long double massage. My masseuse was a godsend. I'd never had a professional massage before, let alone a full body massage, and I struggled to contain my ecstatic moans. David, on the other hand, was struggling not to whimper. His masseuse was a stocky blonde woman who looked like her name could be Helga and who quite possibly hailed from Sweden. Not long after her "man hands" attacked him, he was already pleading for mercy! But, despite the pain, he enjoyed the massage almost as much as I did. Afterwards, they gave us a few minutes to lay there before we got up and got dressed. Neither of us could move. The aromatherapy, the candles, the music. It was all too much. I was pretty sure that elevator had taken us straight up to heaven. Luckily, the reality we then had to go back to was nothing to fret about.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We went up to our rooms and relaxed a little while watching a movie about Judy Garland. And then we decided to take a little road trip. David had seen a little blip on the map, representing a lake, so we decided to head up to Banyoles and check it out. We were not disappointed.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As soon as we arrived we found a little bar right on the edge of the lake. I saw a sign for cheap mojitos and new it was meant to be. They ended up being the best ones we had ever tasted! (Except maybe for Sonia and Manuel's.)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After our drinks, we decided to take a walk along the lake. Being from Michigan, you wouldn't really expect lakes to impress me all that much. But being from Michigan, I'm not really accustomed to seeing lakes flanked my mountains. The combination is breathtaking and creates an atmosphere more serene that I could have ever imagined!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">All along the lakeshore, there were these tiny abandoned houses where people used to dock their boats. When I saw this one, I immediately fell in love. I instantly wanted the deed to this little place. Can you imagine having this as your writing space? I just know I could gush out a whole novel in one sitting if these were my surroundings.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As we entered the town, it became clear that there was some sort of sporting event going on. As we neared a large park, we caught the final phase of a triathlon. It must have been a tense one, because before long we were dodging an ambulance on its way to treat a participant. Minutes later a helicopter swooped in and landed right next to the track to rush the patient off to the hospital! It was a truly surreal thing to witness!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After that little incident, the walk back to the car was quiet and relaxing. All and all, the excursion was a perfect follow-up to our day at the Spa. But soon we would need dinner. So we decided to make our way back towards the hotel. Right by the car, we found this sign and decided to honor our brief stay here with a photographic farewell.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The route we ended up taking to get back ran right through the city center of Girona. Just to give you an understanding, We live in Barcelona, which is part of the Autonomous Community of Cataluña. Cataluña is broken up into four provinces: Barcelona (in the middle, on the coast), Tarragona (also on the coast, to the south), Girona (to the north, on the coast as well), and Lérida (to the west of Barcelona). Each province has a capital of the same name. All of the places we visited this past weekend were to the north, in the province of Girona. But now I am talking about the city.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">David and I had come up to the city of Girona once before, for a flower festival. I fell in love with it. It's charm is so unique and the lifestyle here is palpable. It's not an enormous city like Barcelona, but it's just big enough. The vibrant medieval neighborhood gives it a truly romantic air while the quirky riverside denotes an authentic European metropolis.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now that I'm looking at photos and reflecting on that festival, I'm realizing how badly I want to blog about it! But just to give you a sneak peak, here are a couple of photos from that day!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Mw7GNaOVlKxGyv62DlCa3M0H8Ru-h6n4IW8hpc2NfYxdHTI8KWoDxq9I8fBj-pQPR7lDV0Gr2ZVPPaMuwb8ilc9fsitNv2C1jhazspAJqxS0L14V4fG-__5FW6SttRkqhKH1OZ1cLno/s1600/DSC06439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Mw7GNaOVlKxGyv62DlCa3M0H8Ru-h6n4IW8hpc2NfYxdHTI8KWoDxq9I8fBj-pQPR7lDV0Gr2ZVPPaMuwb8ilc9fsitNv2C1jhazspAJqxS0L14V4fG-__5FW6SttRkqhKH1OZ1cLno/s400/DSC06439.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">WOW, right! Just wait until you see the photos from the festival. This place is MAGIC. And, as it turns out, it's just as spectacular at night. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We decided to stop and eat here. We were wondering through this trendy, old neighborhood when it dawned on David that his old co-worker's parents owned a restaurant nearby. We asked a waitress who'd just stepped outside for a cigarette if she knew where <a href="http://www.artusi.es/">Artusi</a>, the restaurant in question, might be. Low and behold, it was just around the corner! The ambience in the restaurant was divine and the food was absolutely exquisite! It was an ideal date night, made even better by the fact that it wasn't even planned!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">An hour later, after a drive far darker than we're used to these days, we arrived at the hotel. I wanted to party long into the night, but David had sleep on his mind. This was probably a good thing, since we had a <i>long</i> day ahead of us! A day, I'm afraid, I'll have to explain in <b>Part Two</b>. I can't believe how long it's taken me just to get here! I'm sure you'll need a break too, but check back soon to hear about the wonderful medieval villages and exotic rock islands we discovered in the conclusion of our fabulous weekend that we somehow managed to cram into a single weekend!</span>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-23607403633756011112011-08-28T11:28:00.001-07:002011-08-29T11:59:50.957-07:00L'aquarium!<span class="Apple-style-span" >Now that I finally have a job, I enjoy the weekend so much more. We make such an effort to take advantage of them! Of course this has meant plenty of time at the beach, but the best part is that now that we both have incomes, we can start checking off the list of things in Barcelona that I've yet to experience! Yesterday's mission accomplished: The Barcelona Aquarium!</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJn7p5BltgjcmPzErM8a9N6qkXI7GBnozo0DHOlWDA1GutxsIbHmOTj9mv0LylLtZjCvWx-ar_EAGQv2Q8reA2tBD-_-A3Nkb7aZS9JVAQZmncPAS3_WVDVkmy1VTRy6ydo-q15Uf3oZo/s1600/aqua1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJn7p5BltgjcmPzErM8a9N6qkXI7GBnozo0DHOlWDA1GutxsIbHmOTj9mv0LylLtZjCvWx-ar_EAGQv2Q8reA2tBD-_-A3Nkb7aZS9JVAQZmncPAS3_WVDVkmy1VTRy6ydo-q15Uf3oZo/s400/aqua1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646353878740629346" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFiZMqD5CDcXTL33wGVrrcEQb83ToFJbcR6ov9QmUxvTjoOxbBv3wnWcdFu8zPCbSRaT9Xqt75lADnxOegSmcL7hL-nuOb2NRydydLey8IWHJp_T-irJb4pJdVUza527nJXyV9wO3biU/s1600/aqua2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFiZMqD5CDcXTL33wGVrrcEQb83ToFJbcR6ov9QmUxvTjoOxbBv3wnWcdFu8zPCbSRaT9Xqt75lADnxOegSmcL7hL-nuOb2NRydydLey8IWHJp_T-irJb4pJdVUza527nJXyV9wO3biU/s400/aqua2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646353873155562146" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_-JbWnNY9ixNoLnPdilpAUxpY_3tQ6Qt2n5kvtSXpVNZhvVAVgKde-5wKhShAVtfyzXQ40DnQ0Z_jA5LJv8NfEdBM853LEXxDanufq9wjd70BlwYtO9hWbfTjH1DfFn_61YSeHyNMLA/s1600/aqua3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_-JbWnNY9ixNoLnPdilpAUxpY_3tQ6Qt2n5kvtSXpVNZhvVAVgKde-5wKhShAVtfyzXQ40DnQ0Z_jA5LJv8NfEdBM853LEXxDanufq9wjd70BlwYtO9hWbfTjH1DfFn_61YSeHyNMLA/s400/aqua3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646353757934626130" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_uYKpWYuIH238F8gqM95WeIT77bQSCRZq-cErQWx5s4-598e93zp4i4szPRHrIX0Ii1tff7fxpmvcFtcl9AK10qa7VYozA5tgJXa8DBT4yXiQP-rBy2Zwc3RP5ZKYNdlYtBMdH4W3a0/s1600/aqua4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_uYKpWYuIH238F8gqM95WeIT77bQSCRZq-cErQWx5s4-598e93zp4i4szPRHrIX0Ii1tff7fxpmvcFtcl9AK10qa7VYozA5tgJXa8DBT4yXiQP-rBy2Zwc3RP5ZKYNdlYtBMdH4W3a0/s400/aqua4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646353749604115890" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZHDrX6OsCgMccyZQpNWM-MGxCxof4nuqR6f-X0I3aVNKdugHsaZPNzyZWUIhv73UDApggQuo9o1wacXOMDBCo3jVaL_HUcdXhj_BP8poxirWcIY0leVEZ3YwM55CeAXVJzw-6U-Znmk/s1600/aqua5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZHDrX6OsCgMccyZQpNWM-MGxCxof4nuqR6f-X0I3aVNKdugHsaZPNzyZWUIhv73UDApggQuo9o1wacXOMDBCo3jVaL_HUcdXhj_BP8poxirWcIY0leVEZ3YwM55CeAXVJzw-6U-Znmk/s400/aqua5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646353749438022834" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALi5hHUkcWfQe4RdJurCNKicQtQpFGmSvCGkzvXPS-q7AMh0c0QkBqUcbzP64EOm4oD1nBIB1V2J23z0ujHl4e_GEd2EfTx38yyYEwM15Str8D1Lw2fuF0jJhZQfvWVZFxBJ5y9EDpeM/s1600/aqua6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALi5hHUkcWfQe4RdJurCNKicQtQpFGmSvCGkzvXPS-q7AMh0c0QkBqUcbzP64EOm4oD1nBIB1V2J23z0ujHl4e_GEd2EfTx38yyYEwM15Str8D1Lw2fuF0jJhZQfvWVZFxBJ5y9EDpeM/s400/aqua6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646353742380563234" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOfM3Vi_3SslAOKk_r2C7XPAXAA_-Rg1nk8802ObtEb4rNiC2ABDPrJM5LqQBFizsMnZo0Q4KHccpJRakt39d_DeuhiF4YaZE8W0HptwVfap3AC_WTlc1IJtOwSnhWnE4CWVTXda5NyPE/s1600/aqua7.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOfM3Vi_3SslAOKk_r2C7XPAXAA_-Rg1nk8802ObtEb4rNiC2ABDPrJM5LqQBFizsMnZo0Q4KHccpJRakt39d_DeuhiF4YaZE8W0HptwVfap3AC_WTlc1IJtOwSnhWnE4CWVTXda5NyPE/s400/aqua7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646353743374147330" /></a></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Whenever I go to an aquarium, the two things I'm most amped up for are the sea horses and the manta rays. Sea horses are just so damn cute and awkward! Manta rays on the other hand, well, let's just say that they and I have a connection. Whenever I come across one, it always swims right over to me, greeting me with a giant smile. Basically, we're tight. And now that I live on the coast, it makes me feel good to know that if I were ever to find myself stranded out in the sea, my buddies would most likely come to my rescue.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >The truth is that Sydney's Aquarium spoiled me a bit, and I don't know if another will ever live up to it. But Barcelona's reminded me a lot of Sydney's! The Sydney Aquarium is nestled into Darling Harbor while Barcelona's resides in Port Vell (Old Harbor). Both feature enormous tunnels below the harbor that allow you to observe the marina life from an unbeatable perspective, as well as a wide array of species to observe!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >If you visit Barcelona, and you like Aquariums, I'd definitely recommend checking it out!</span></div></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-35811678976547072342011-06-23T05:18:00.000-07:002011-06-23T06:11:12.481-07:00Nostalgic Tunes<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; ">The last couple of days, I've been listening to some of my old school favorites. You know those old CDs you practically wore out, the ones that somehow missed the migration into digital media? It's been almost surreal listening to the likes of Matchbox 20 and Third Eye Blind on an iPod while maneuvering through Barcelona. This setting—this life—is a harsh contrast to the one I lead when these tracks last graced my ears. I love being able to appreciate them in a whole new way.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br />A long time ago—i.e. over a decade ago—I joined Columbia House. This was in that particular phase of life when it becomes very important to establish a personal taste in music. I guess the "personal" part was a little unclear for us preteens, as we crowded the malls with a pocket-full of allowance to pick up whatever titles we could recognize from the local top 40 station. This lead to a pretty awkward selection when I chose which 12 CDs the company would send me just for joining the club. I spent a good twenty minutes this morning trying to recreate the list, and somehow I actually managed. So here they are!</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKiVezgp-DGnkXBvKo_C5gywuif-j3IF1qx7knNMOz_IbznMfWqkioRPAb9T5NUVkJcLuWX_v4c0C5PdeLeTw_prV7H9GYToyaoD_X8s1CzzzgYYpoS_A1zo-pnSL2v2pZ9Pie5jEZN_s/s400/cds.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621397956627580754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><ol><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Oasis - <i>(What's the Story) Morning Glory?</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Vertical Horizon - <i>Everything You Want</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >TLC - <i>FanMail</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cherry Poppin' Daddies - <i>Zoot Suit Riot</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Barenaked Ladies - <i>Stunt</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Incubus - <i>Make Yourself</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Britney Spears - <i>...Baby One More Time</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Third Eye Blind - Self-titled</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Will Smith - <i>Big Willie Style</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Matchbox 20 - <i>Yourself or Someone Like You</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Eagle Eye Cherry - <i>Desireless</i></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" >Savage Garden - Self-titled</span></li></ol><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Some of these albums I only listened to for a little while before tucking them away, never to be played again. Others, though, would go on to define me a little bit. The albums by Matchbox 20, Savage Garden, Incubus, Vertical Horizon, are some of the most influential and nostalgic soundtracks of my life! I vividly remember listening to these songs in my room, back when listening to music was an activity by its own right—not just an afterthought. I remember soaking in the melodies and the lyrics and feeling like certain songs were written just for me. I don't get that feeling very often anymore. Isn't that sad? But occasionally I do, sometimes with newly discovered music, but more frequently with these cherished relics of my past.</span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I chose these CDs at random. They were completely influenced by whatever music I was hearing on the radio and/or my friends were listening to at the time. But when I listen to some of these albums today, they feel like a part of me that's engraved way down deep. Do you have any music like this? If so, how did you discover it? And do you still listen to this day?</span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-33259064588087905162011-06-19T04:02:00.000-07:002011-06-19T04:44:54.177-07:00Happy Anniversary(/ies)<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I'm finding it hard to blog lately. My mind is consumed by the waiting game. 10 days ago, I had my third interview (and presented my second project) with the company for which David now works. I received positive feedback and was told they would be in touch within 10 days. Well, today is Sunday, so hopefully this week will bring news whether it be good or bad!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The problem is—well, I shouldn't say "problem"—the <i>thing</i> is that this isn't just <b>a</b> job, but <b>thee</b> job. The company is practically the anti-Abercrombie. The position I would have would be 100 times more creative than my previous one and infinitely more important (as the design team in this company is small and tight, as opposed to my last job in which hundreds of designers touched the product only to have it mutilated later by the merchants and/or directors). Anyway, I know I have to stay positive and not place all my eggs in one basket and all of that other stuff that I try to live by—but when you want something as bad as I want this, it becomes nearly impossible to uphold these virtues.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Really, though, I'm not here to write about my nerves. Two days ago marked my year anniversary of living here in Spain. In addition, it marked the first time David and I have been together for a year. There have been so many ups and downs between this:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AnoF6RT3Wr9ob7rwlKEm6DOE2SU_IXBLH8wU8-tausyeEeNauXw-GunnMby6tBeQoCQh3xiRtHXTGDuFxmeQuNgWUdbvg0d2_th395ZsmmhB-5xpVgxx6H2u93ik2ZzYB2P7Oadcbjo/s400/DSC03177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619888503305645490" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><b>June 17, 2010</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>Suite in Casanova Hotel</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">and this:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMHU0uLr-VciU92g5vZuNP5prFYhBsUMhs5fTEI646hTg0LUesM6sivIIA_8kTLUNUg4ny-roFkaUDkbAVqLdUoGL3JG3_BOzyAwOYze5CQllo7rpPAGds4WijtJ4H2fmFx4hvGe90A8/s400/la+foto+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619888494650429746" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><b>June 17, 2011</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><b>Picnic in Trinitat Vella Park</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"> I decided to celebrate the occasion by surprising David after work with a picnic in a local park. It was so nice to lay on the grass and look up at the sky while reminiscing over the trials and triumphs over the past 12 months.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span">I feel like it'd be highly appropriate to do a really thorough recap post, much like I did for my <a href="http://giganteinwaiting.blogspot.com/2010/09/first-quarterly.html">3 month anniversary</a>, but I just don't have the mindset for it. Way back, when David was still with me in Columbus, we made a plan. That plan included being apart for a long time (which ended up being nine months in total), working hard, saving money, and eventually my moving to Spain. But the plan didn't end there. The final part of the plan concluded with both of us finding decent, permanent jobs and making enough money to support ourselves (with perhaps a little extra to go towards semi-frequent trips back to America!). David has upheld his end of the deal! He just got hired by a new company, with a permanent contract and better pay! Now it's my turn! I never thought a year would go by without my finding work, but here I am, and now that I'm so close, it's increasingly difficult to concentrate on all of life's other blessings!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Regardless of whether or not I get <i>this</i> job, something will come along soon, because, well, it just <i>has</i> to. When it does, despite having less time, I know I'll have more drive to write. I'll be able to focus on the numerous other post ideas I have brewing. Not to mention I'll feel like a valuable human being again. I'll have a real life which might even provide new stories to share! (If I blogged my day to day right now, the redundancy of posts like: "looked for jobs today—nothing promising—got really nervous—then became lazy—then got guilty about being lazy and started cleaning" would probably drive away more readers than I have to begin with).</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Well, I'll wrap this baby up before I get too carried away. I can't even conclude properly, that's how frazzled this situation has me! If you made it this far, please wish me luck this week! And I promise as soon as I know something, I'll write and share!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-31387453948003745542011-05-23T07:45:00.000-07:002011-05-23T08:23:20.283-07:00NO FUMAR<span class="Apple-style-span" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-8nBHxUFuIJeINa6oRk-7aKjrWrbPYLyKIoVrenRtDFyB5Q8CoOg6WPxFLihwgUVd2jFgHOO7cL3qIeLfdHZ0kKH3bpdKEHf3EAxhLsxprfKvUYGUQbYTMTl3IZuE7ffqmulUMEwUfk/s1600/DSC00095+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-8nBHxUFuIJeINa6oRk-7aKjrWrbPYLyKIoVrenRtDFyB5Q8CoOg6WPxFLihwgUVd2jFgHOO7cL3qIeLfdHZ0kKH3bpdKEHf3EAxhLsxprfKvUYGUQbYTMTl3IZuE7ffqmulUMEwUfk/s400/DSC00095+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609928575695011554" /></a><br />Back in college, I read or heard somewhere that if you quit smoking by the age of 25, your lungs could eventually reverse all the effects of having been a smoker. I never looked into it any further, and I'm not entirely sure it holds any ground, but it became my mantra and my excuse. I could continue smoking until I turned 25, and then simply give it up.<br /><br />Well, my 25th year came and went. But it was just too hard, smoking was part of my identity, one of the first character traits I developed the year I began to figure myself out. Not only that, but I seriously enjoy the act of smoking. Now I'm 26 and quite possibly going through one of those quarter-life crisis thingies. Bottom line: it's time for a change.<br /><br />I've been toying with the idea of giving up the habit for months, but as I've told everyone around me who's expressed concern, I wasn't going to be successful until I was ready. I needed to be committed.<br /><br />I got a pretty bad cold last week. It had me cut back to about one or two cigarettes a day. Any smoker can tell you that our colds last a bit longer than those of non-smokers. There's the duration of the bug and all its nagging symptoms, and then there's the relentless cough that carries on for at least a week after everything should be out of our system.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >In the midst of a phlegm attack, lying in bed one night, I just decided that it was time. I wanted to be healthy again. I wanted to be able to run greater distances, climb stairs without getting winded and even hit some of those high notes Jason Mraz is constantly taunting me with, reminding me of my past glory. More importantly, with my bank account depleting so quickly and no sign of a job just yet, I don't want to spend another dime on a pointless bad habit. So I stopped.<br /><br />It's day three. I still don't feel like a non-smoker. My poor lungs won't let me, and neither will my nerves. I feel almost crippled by my fragile emotional state and I am constantly coughing up phlegm. It's disgusting and painful. But It's part of the process, and so in essence, progress. Plus, I think I'm getting a pretty intense ab workout.<br /><br />Anyway, I wanted deliver the memo here on my blog. That way the cat is out of the bag and I actually have to hold myself to it. Also, quitting isn't the only change I'm undertaking. Another important one is writing more. And if I have the will power to quit cold turkey, the simple act of writing more often doesn't seem so unobtainable, does it?<br /><br />That's all for now, writing just makes me want a cigarette!</span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-975659716246505692011-04-12T00:02:00.000-07:002011-05-04T00:52:21.463-07:00Surprise! Pt. 1<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >It's the evening of February 6th, 2011. I'm watching TV on the couch, where I've spent most of the day due to a lingering hangover from the bachelors' party the night before. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. I'm too dazed to notice that David has been washing the few dishes we'd used for dinner for a suspicious amount of time, so when he asks me to answer it, I hesitantly comply.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I look and feel disgusting and I'm not at all in the mood to tell the crazy, old lady who lives one building over that this is not, in fact, her apartment. I look through the peep hole, totally intending to ignore the situation if it is her. That's strange. All I see is... nothing. Someone is blocking the peephole. Naturally, my first reaction is "HOLY SHIT BALLS THEY WANT TO ROB US!". David is already coming around the corner, telling me to open the door. Finally, I do, but placing myself behind the door and David in plain sight of the potential axe murderer. Seconds pass, and neither him or the mystery guest say anything. David gestures for me to look, so I do. This is where my brain fries.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >There are three figures standing in the doorway. My cousin Shelly is standing closest to me in the middle, but my mind can't process that at first, so it focuses on Sonia and Manuel, our cousins, standing behind her. My eyes bounce back to Shelly... and then back to Sonia and Manuel. As my brain fails to react to the situation, my body steps up. Apparently (and as you can see in the video below) my jaw drops as soon as I see Shelly. I'm talking and hugging as the pieces start frantically trying to force themselves together, but it seems like they're all from different puzzles.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >The thing is, I was in 100% pure shock. Later, everyone told me that they were expecting and hoping that I would cry. But the thing is, how can you cry when you're not really there? I couldn't even make sense of the situation. With all of that shock and confusion, there's no room for emotion! Your brain just doesn't have the capacity!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZdA9CVfP_aQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >It was hours before what had happened finally started to sink in in steady waves. I liked it that way. Imagine getting one of the best surprises of your life. Now imagine instead of having that surprise served to you at one fell swoop, having it dished out little by little over the course of several hours. Each time, it's heaven.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >The excitement, along with the celebratory champagne... and then wine... gave us enough energy to stay up pretty late. I didn't want to go to bed, for fear of waking up and having it all been a dream. Plus I was just so damn excited to be sitting on my couch in Barcelona with one of my best friends in the world!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ExWjuibXpK67cH90lwmwPRG3ed5H8Vpa_w4Y0WJzIj4VRoisA9vCpO9gt0g7knNz6klbn4i5zLnRm1dhSIqGNZUq-LRZzS68Y7ekB7im448pGCgUG-gKq3XmcJwXVv6DKeybm1JzWng/s1600/172015_10150140439373573_564083572_7866054_6949173_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ExWjuibXpK67cH90lwmwPRG3ed5H8Vpa_w4Y0WJzIj4VRoisA9vCpO9gt0g7knNz6klbn4i5zLnRm1dhSIqGNZUq-LRZzS68Y7ekB7im448pGCgUG-gKq3XmcJwXVv6DKeybm1JzWng/s400/172015_10150140439373573_564083572_7866054_6949173_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594598853250134226" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></a><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Have you ever had one of those mornings where you wake up from an incredibly realistic dream in which something amazing had happened only to be severely disappointed when reality sets in? Well the morning after was the opposite of one of those mornings. Shelly was staying in my home in Barcelona, and I had only had hours to process the idea! I was tired but excited to take her out into my world.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >We checked out Las Ramblas and La Boquería market. Then we couldn't resist heading to the beach.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dwI6iOz_fgXtrZT64V9sDVzbRHEzFoBdsapo18yVmJCOyHJnn1kjn_xGnPS6LS8wXL7NE49IqPlv9mBBS8reSgVXsOkN6ZRZlGXFzPxm75jxTkJsNONeGOjws5n9IRrIZl7J1qWsCiE/s1600/170964_10150140440068573_564083572_7866085_7373545_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dwI6iOz_fgXtrZT64V9sDVzbRHEzFoBdsapo18yVmJCOyHJnn1kjn_xGnPS6LS8wXL7NE49IqPlv9mBBS8reSgVXsOkN6ZRZlGXFzPxm75jxTkJsNONeGOjws5n9IRrIZl7J1qWsCiE/s400/170964_10150140440068573_564083572_7866085_7373545_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594598840677779554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></a><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >We settled on a nice little restaurant I like in Barceloneta. There we caught up while sipping sangría and enjoying some tapas. I'm so glad Shelly decided to go back to eating Seafood for the duration of the trip. Not doing so would be a travesty here in Barcelona where the seafood is so fresh and the tapas are to die for!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP2dHL0U1ra7ZG2HlKWyDDLHxTVgwPNtaL-dF6Qi_13vBVdsF3H-U_RoGjgXaNtcy-pJe6_OZrAgEyq4khSHKBAZ7rfeuzlhDDPNENUQJ-5OfHqB2ABQJ4T7Ag7sRwKu2hc0kOjD5AWqY/s1600/171343_10150140440223573_564083572_7866091_8207887_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP2dHL0U1ra7ZG2HlKWyDDLHxTVgwPNtaL-dF6Qi_13vBVdsF3H-U_RoGjgXaNtcy-pJe6_OZrAgEyq4khSHKBAZ7rfeuzlhDDPNENUQJ-5OfHqB2ABQJ4T7Ag7sRwKu2hc0kOjD5AWqY/s400/171343_10150140440223573_564083572_7866091_8207887_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594598838809158370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></a><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Shelly, you're in Spain!" became the catchphrase of the day. There's something so special about having your friends experience Europe for the first time in your own city. There is something even more special about having someone you love make such a trek to be part of your wedding!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >We spent a good amount of time over the next couple days wandering through the city, especially in the shopping district. Shelly was looking for a new dress to wear to the wedding. We made time to go on a run by the river Besós, which passes near my apartment. Shelly was concerned about halting her marathon training, so I humored her. I didn't manage the distance she's used to, but I think I did alright! Unfortunately my legs killed me for the next two days.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoyUT2XY11KydDgtYiXAwz-t2adJimhO6zRVkwIYGwNt3__LNh6ArDusZ2A6tis4MedEyUCyhq5ElPvWmZ0eCqnu7HuOE0fNBlr78IrjkOyUVqyBY2ljE_ht50uoFwSN3YDHhUk0tJpE/s1600/180471_10150144452583573_564083572_7928011_2898160_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoyUT2XY11KydDgtYiXAwz-t2adJimhO6zRVkwIYGwNt3__LNh6ArDusZ2A6tis4MedEyUCyhq5ElPvWmZ0eCqnu7HuOE0fNBlr78IrjkOyUVqyBY2ljE_ht50uoFwSN3YDHhUk0tJpE/s400/180471_10150144452583573_564083572_7928011_2898160_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594598829656342786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></a><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >As the wedding week quickly came to its end, Shelly did an exceptional job of calming both David's and my nerves. I don't know what I would have done without her!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRQFQ6IumvuZ1uMXRkU5eY5zBq7LD6qLEARetsCwke3Y1q_IWHLrcWcOlhx0fMLurspyk5tEAY2iP_H5LSmL-cowWqM7cdHLvpxnXCXoU4nFu-TJEA_1fvwsU77bvjQvJYf7GruzwLgs/s1600/173000_10150144453853573_564083572_7928030_314197_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRQFQ6IumvuZ1uMXRkU5eY5zBq7LD6qLEARetsCwke3Y1q_IWHLrcWcOlhx0fMLurspyk5tEAY2iP_H5LSmL-cowWqM7cdHLvpxnXCXoU4nFu-TJEA_1fvwsU77bvjQvJYf7GruzwLgs/s400/173000_10150144453853573_564083572_7928030_314197_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594598826694174050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Come Thursday, I was smacked with a whole new surprise. A surprise, that is, for another post! Let's hope it doesn't take me three months to write that one!</span></div><div><br /></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-57632088049527588992011-03-09T02:43:00.001-08:002011-03-10T08:20:03.776-08:00Two Bachelors: One Party<div>David and I sat on the terrace, sipping wine and anxiously awaiting company. It was already half-past the time by which the "anonymous" voice had instructed us to be ready. The downtime was starting to get the best of us. It finally set in that in less than week, we would be <b>married</b>. I silently reflected on the months of planning that had lead up to this week. Tears flooded my eyes as I thought of how this "small, informal" event had transformed itself into what was to be our one and only big day. I explained to David through restrained sobs what had just occurred to me. In the beginning it was okay that I was doing this on my own. But now that it had become a big deal, I wasn't okay at all. The thought of going forward without the most important women in my life, the women who had been there for me through so much wouldn't be there for me when I needed them most. "I need Shelly or my mom or somebody here!" I plead. And then I quietly tried to make peace with the impossibility of this notion.</div><div><br /></div><div>The "Cubelles group", all sporting penis hats, marched into our tiny apartment like a small—albeit loud—army. Gerard, Mark, Gloria, Edu, Elena, Cristina and Jordi gathered around our Ikea coffee table and began setting up a game that they had crafted themselves. We were informed that we had an itinerary to stick to. A truly eventful night was set in motion.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN1wyzBeQ9XYQQTAYzkMCfPKG6s44PX4SisEKZPrlcGSePPDBv9aJxwCxFBEx3XFoHsw2Q816vnOGXZdk_OsLtDk82T3cYS9SOg5FIIUM9brPFrhE5tM0WaOT7E5f3JGRDU7c3BKIZMQU/s1600/DSC05643.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN1wyzBeQ9XYQQTAYzkMCfPKG6s44PX4SisEKZPrlcGSePPDBv9aJxwCxFBEx3XFoHsw2Q816vnOGXZdk_OsLtDk82T3cYS9SOg5FIIUM9brPFrhE5tM0WaOT7E5f3JGRDU7c3BKIZMQU/s400/DSC05643.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582032820379143010" /></a><br /><div>Lambrusco and an assortment of liquor was poured into cups and shot glasses as we picked our pieces and began a Peter & David-themed game: a hybrid of Chutes and Ladders, Cranium, Trivial Pursuit, Truth & Dare and every drinking game I've ever played. It was a race to get to the end of the board, that is: the wedding!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfC2WYWb1JVpreyk5xEXUDBGkhK3_VHypjNb2qitIBblhINUmX5D5YVla2x3P-ewRCBNhb8625AhGQqPiodaBHbCpwPvPbv547gnMGHiBRcuRn03t1MrQxx47JqRTIInWDJ8VSNeNS5w/s1600/DSC05655.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfC2WYWb1JVpreyk5xEXUDBGkhK3_VHypjNb2qitIBblhINUmX5D5YVla2x3P-ewRCBNhb8625AhGQqPiodaBHbCpwPvPbv547gnMGHiBRcuRn03t1MrQxx47JqRTIInWDJ8VSNeNS5w/s400/DSC05655.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582032815543496770" /></a><br /></div><div>In good bachelor party spirit, this segment of the night was not without a few humiliating moments caught on film.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODLmdWG0E8lbqeDEh898nY-UNcJdwR9nbJLEKs-L1MfabEo3YEDcJhp4CMWC_B38L0NZi_JjMRIIOoSqmO4ftPuA-SBfjbbXkrPsu57U6E0avGeV4LU7XCZ1cn06EfLG7yb4RbSjQ7k4/s1600/DSC05664.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODLmdWG0E8lbqeDEh898nY-UNcJdwR9nbJLEKs-L1MfabEo3YEDcJhp4CMWC_B38L0NZi_JjMRIIOoSqmO4ftPuA-SBfjbbXkrPsu57U6E0avGeV4LU7XCZ1cn06EfLG7yb4RbSjQ7k4/s400/DSC05664.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582032806608354370" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Before we could even complete the game, we moved onto a photo montage video they had put together. And then it was time for a second, less complicated game. This one was more my style. We were handed a giant box filled with newspaper, confetti and an assortment of small, wrapped gifts. Elena read off a number and then a "clue". We would then find the corresponding present and open it. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphwdC8UwfxVFhQ3fU_7pLBDSWqkFf-2xBI0y0LSx-Ntf3w8etNZ2U56csr5CuIciq-HFU508zwDffyfpAwh8xZGCF_u1ae0QUB20LCyV0y873s2ZpntqcueSrKHcgM4E-jgCsTabGPKw/s1600/DSC05677.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphwdC8UwfxVFhQ3fU_7pLBDSWqkFf-2xBI0y0LSx-Ntf3w8etNZ2U56csr5CuIciq-HFU508zwDffyfpAwh8xZGCF_u1ae0QUB20LCyV0y873s2ZpntqcueSrKHcgM4E-jgCsTabGPKw/s400/DSC05677.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582032803136827922" /></a><br /></div><div>Before I forget, I have to explain the glorious accessory you see on David's head in these photos. A week or two prior, David and I were watching Sex and the City: The Movie. We had been hitting the wine pretty hard (as we're apt to do whenever Carrie Bradshaw is involved) and David turned to me to say "I want a bird for my wedding". He was, of course, referring to the blue headpiece that Carrie wore to her first and unsuccessful wedding. He made me promise I would find one. Well, I couldn't, so I had to settle for making one. He didn't know what to think when I handed him this deranged-looking concoction just hours before the party. Quickly, though, he began to wear it with pride!</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, the gifts ranged from the mildly embarrassing to extremely thoughtful. We couldn't help but gorge on some cookies one of the boxes contained as we completed our task.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqF17ZWtMX_SE99_C7JIFZnsYsT_VRokJNukQ-2xMDn_prUBpWqOrVpW7vsRNohOyPhiBTBiUmDB23zisOaWn6VU1OKfyJNmOlOa7G-nZN5QulkPCzXOrjG0wv3__lVwp9zzekd5GgPos/s1600/DSC05714.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqF17ZWtMX_SE99_C7JIFZnsYsT_VRokJNukQ-2xMDn_prUBpWqOrVpW7vsRNohOyPhiBTBiUmDB23zisOaWn6VU1OKfyJNmOlOa7G-nZN5QulkPCzXOrjG0wv3__lVwp9zzekd5GgPos/s400/DSC05714.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582032804073199490" /></a><br /></div><div>Before we knew it, we were late! For what? We had no idea, but we were ushered to the Metro where a third and final game was played. Drinks still in hand (God bless Barcelona!), we each had a notecard with a word or expression attached to our forehead, all of which had to do with our wedding. From there, to the delight of the fellow commuters, we went around in a circle asking questions in order to guess what word we were assigned.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAod0Ocb15TxvRCHa1iL2FT3sBGcn42cWaYuNpQCAUoBX2Mi7nhVdEJUnWr7po6h3gSD8htfOXjenmi4notySokiAy_zglUW-vf9ayBumc2VJIVZc_wsdLzRmBynNLUQ6l307c_I39Md0/s1600/DSC05729.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAod0Ocb15TxvRCHa1iL2FT3sBGcn42cWaYuNpQCAUoBX2Mi7nhVdEJUnWr7po6h3gSD8htfOXjenmi4notySokiAy_zglUW-vf9ayBumc2VJIVZc_wsdLzRmBynNLUQ6l307c_I39Md0/s400/DSC05729.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582029835972195122" /></a><br /></div><div>Needless to say, it was a blast.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHeePhFm4hUy0yQUY-38BEO9gRyEz4SrRnPMcHFHpb61dVy_-Xo73CELzdwDV9xsIjaxEYDHE6_05zkwRamdTn2eT4nF10FU9cq2pwbcceAX4o_bRQxxUPzx3QxBvs8uvhwmORbWzBdk/s1600/DSC05732.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHeePhFm4hUy0yQUY-38BEO9gRyEz4SrRnPMcHFHpb61dVy_-Xo73CELzdwDV9xsIjaxEYDHE6_05zkwRamdTn2eT4nF10FU9cq2pwbcceAX4o_bRQxxUPzx3QxBvs8uvhwmORbWzBdk/s400/DSC05732.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582029831368719170" /></a><br /></div><div>As we neared our stop, David and I were blind-folded. Our friends ushered us (an experience I will never forget as I was lead into several obstacles "by accident"), to our final destination. We were greeted by some "mystery guests", who were instantly identified as our cousins, Sonia and Manuel. They gave us a mini makeover while still blindfolded, and carefully maneuvered us into the location.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Na2vW4RFTtB6mQG_BFjM5fQl4O4Qarce9MdE-eGpnvOZFYSQKGTUY8pWC2W3WUK7b5mgRdogF_zSVjTYRXlKrK2Qzb78WIWcdO5hwMSnuTmvyQsg4dHiYusv9zLPGgC_N-yXyOeNRdA/s1600/DSC05740.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Na2vW4RFTtB6mQG_BFjM5fQl4O4Qarce9MdE-eGpnvOZFYSQKGTUY8pWC2W3WUK7b5mgRdogF_zSVjTYRXlKrK2Qzb78WIWcdO5hwMSnuTmvyQsg4dHiYusv9zLPGgC_N-yXyOeNRdA/s400/DSC05740.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582029822513365282" /></a><br /></div><div>Obviously I wasn't pleased with said makeover. The surprise location was a VIP table at a swank restaurant with an impressive drag queen show! The dinner was great, the entertainment was better and the conversation was just to die for! We even had a great photo opp with Lady Gaga!</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_dQyh4tJPst8jZIgJEFqcI1iySgvyM4rbnv11WzgtwTV1t2pLSUXvIPU5CUxMlKe6Gw_lnLxRweADXODbrP2I-MROWumFRSwCxpNQN9zQYQMVta3itJkdz5vibZGIniO9qFJhmea6ZTs/s1600/DSC05763.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_dQyh4tJPst8jZIgJEFqcI1iySgvyM4rbnv11WzgtwTV1t2pLSUXvIPU5CUxMlKe6Gw_lnLxRweADXODbrP2I-MROWumFRSwCxpNQN9zQYQMVta3itJkdz5vibZGIniO9qFJhmea6ZTs/s400/DSC05763.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582029816243290370" /></a><br /></div><div>Well, through my drunken haze I suppose she was a bit more convincing. The host of the evening made "her" rounds, embarrassing the guests of honor at each VIP table. David seemed nervous to me as "she" interrogated us in the spotlight. Apparently, he <i>was</i> nervous, as he answered "America" when asked where we were going on our honeymoon. Lucky for him, I didn't remember that detail until he reminded me of it a week and a half later in Michigan! But now I vividly remember my crawling suspicion!</div><div><br /></div><div>After dinner, we migrated to a popular gay nightclub where the party continued. It was seriously a bachelors' party to be envied, and I thank everyone that had a hand in it! My only wish is that they would have been there the next day to help clean up all the confetti that David had intelligently decided to toss all over the apartment!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowUNmPPTeekpnfKoZGaFLqjSfKNVvpjZA_GJu8CthLagqspvSs2e6SVmKlBr9xFnSCWiaLIaRWsjoHzqRWGIN_iA1JAZdcQCDPByvY2DAOCDMLHIcOqkZECHuyTJJugZqcHflHfTTQG0/s1600/DSC05766.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowUNmPPTeekpnfKoZGaFLqjSfKNVvpjZA_GJu8CthLagqspvSs2e6SVmKlBr9xFnSCWiaLIaRWsjoHzqRWGIN_iA1JAZdcQCDPByvY2DAOCDMLHIcOqkZECHuyTJJugZqcHflHfTTQG0/s400/DSC05766.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582029815256418194" /></a></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-73095206105928051282011-03-08T03:49:00.000-08:002011-03-08T05:21:22.885-08:00All That Jazz<span class="Apple-style-span" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZe9isqqSC-5IOUvfuA5mRZkauOADgmUNrYEs6ZxTZFUtx1A6utHxqV27r6ygkOob96N_A_IK5PIXwDC8Cd1JveNGrIIsSegOqSNMNbccQDI27fvH73aFpi4AbDz3YI2a3yCrARhU6Zg/s1600/beth_title.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZe9isqqSC-5IOUvfuA5mRZkauOADgmUNrYEs6ZxTZFUtx1A6utHxqV27r6ygkOob96N_A_IK5PIXwDC8Cd1JveNGrIIsSegOqSNMNbccQDI27fvH73aFpi4AbDz3YI2a3yCrARhU6Zg/s400/beth_title.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581676170457845810" /></a><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>"Some friends come into your life for a reason, others only for a season."</i> There are many quotes floating around to that effect. But what's really funny is when when of those "seasonal" friends, someone you somehow had mistaken for a mere acquaintance, swoops back into the picture and claims a permanent residence in your heart.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Beth and I both studied Apparel Merchandising & Design at university. We were around each other pretty frequently and even did one or two group projects together. When I was interviewing for my former job in Columbus, I initially called up Beth to see if I could stay with her, as she was already an employee there. Something came up, and I ended up turning to another CMU alum, <a href="http://www.lilacsaloon.com/">Megan</a>—a serendipitous twist that ignited one of the most meaningful friendships in my life thus far!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Despite our miss, Beth still popped in and out of the picture over the course of my C-Bus days. She was always welcome, livening up any social gathering with her infectious smile and unwavering charisma. As we said goodbye at my going away party in Columbus, I kind of thought that would be the last I would see of Beth. Nope!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Beth had some vacation accumulated and was toying with the idea of taking a trip to see Spain. I was flattered that she'd even factor me in to her first European vacation, and started preparing ideas for how I could make her stay as pleasant as possible. Every time I talked to her in the months leading up to it, she was so excited. I was equally excited. Someone from my world was coming to this one! I could speak English all the time again, even laying on the American slang as thick as my heart could desire! Finally, the day came! Beth was in Barcelona!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFKtI7cwhu4Cx2SbRWCRSwAPhrB7Z9OndKKKgy4eADZBkUnrWnNSMAsmVvDGR8-eneHclbCWEwhPixjPKG7bXoXuz_Ud__76gzsJSsSJ5n_lmGDetwHO_Trzlmps9zlhkQmE8y7r92508/s1600/IMG_0445.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFKtI7cwhu4Cx2SbRWCRSwAPhrB7Z9OndKKKgy4eADZBkUnrWnNSMAsmVvDGR8-eneHclbCWEwhPixjPKG7bXoXuz_Ud__76gzsJSsSJ5n_lmGDetwHO_Trzlmps9zlhkQmE8y7r92508/s400/IMG_0445.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581676165027400178" /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Here I am, Spain!</span></i></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >David and I could not have asked for a better houseguest, or a better tourist for that matter. We did our best to balance enriching cultural experiences with just plain fun. The whole time, she was along for the ride, soaking it all in and leaving her impression on whomever she met. She still comes up in conversation with our family and friends here on a regular basis! (Also,since she's left I've heard "all that jazz", one of her catchphrases, uttered from the mouth of my now husband more times than I can count!)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBg_Z2CcvThGksMZdaohVlHVosSLJSSM3tl9eEqQsOB3pmRSJrfu-LmtDgXacFKEyNOKArz_4xTqXsCpzQJi9wEm5luAuZR5-UBe7niVNEVwWA74_b3QbsSKr9VJkR3xKDvDKVXRwsEdM/s1600/IMG_0521.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBg_Z2CcvThGksMZdaohVlHVosSLJSSM3tl9eEqQsOB3pmRSJrfu-LmtDgXacFKEyNOKArz_4xTqXsCpzQJi9wEm5luAuZR5-UBe7niVNEVwWA74_b3QbsSKr9VJkR3xKDvDKVXRwsEdM/s400/IMG_0521.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581675824937664274" /></a></span><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Taking our friendship to a whole new continent!</span></i></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6T7N-W43na_aiu_8tN3r_hhXNw05qy7hpDK1laCN93ng8vnjqDOVqp5YG874n6swc2w_rsBriqmJJWzyG3oSlautofIaB_YRliGhS6JqTGB3D-xpZBcE3CagLpZnBMbaam7cLHCnZXc/s1600/IMG_0838.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6T7N-W43na_aiu_8tN3r_hhXNw05qy7hpDK1laCN93ng8vnjqDOVqp5YG874n6swc2w_rsBriqmJJWzyG3oSlautofIaB_YRliGhS6JqTGB3D-xpZBcE3CagLpZnBMbaam7cLHCnZXc/s400/IMG_0838.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581675821535184626" /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Not many girls could look this happy swimming in a sea of gay men!</span></i></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3nF4jnTYLzk0WkqYP8dK_3Vr66M0zHoTBSjCXgWg74U6BigGBtlUfo9J6DsgbjwUK9rYyqgt3HOLfD3eYDUSkQgwgZGPzI5VpzUCNrPX4aH_RXGL2lcKf8tmYNYfLHmN5NY1FOmcLME/s1600/IMG_0975.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3nF4jnTYLzk0WkqYP8dK_3Vr66M0zHoTBSjCXgWg74U6BigGBtlUfo9J6DsgbjwUK9rYyqgt3HOLfD3eYDUSkQgwgZGPzI5VpzUCNrPX4aH_RXGL2lcKf8tmYNYfLHmN5NY1FOmcLME/s400/IMG_0975.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581675818138582770" /></a></span><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Figuring out how to drink from the damn fountain.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></i></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKqn5AmDH57uYZlMRzUheT_PsHbh_N6cIhQXIJMvpmRmTzgoZtmrjwMVZXbXyNHLBdgLr8vQ3sZ1r0aAalcuTMZLOn7izHWZv0jzfi67OKDYI_XiAfSy7DD8W0GsRxayimbMQi8CHq-0/s1600/IMG_1035.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKqn5AmDH57uYZlMRzUheT_PsHbh_N6cIhQXIJMvpmRmTzgoZtmrjwMVZXbXyNHLBdgLr8vQ3sZ1r0aAalcuTMZLOn7izHWZv0jzfi67OKDYI_XiAfSy7DD8W0GsRxayimbMQi8CHq-0/s400/IMG_1035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581675815331421234" /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Bonding in our own... special way.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Beth was so excited to experience a new country, and I was so excited for a taste of the familiar that I don't think either of us was prepared for what would inevitably be the biggest and best part of the whole thing. We might have been acquaintances going into this incredible shared experience, but coming out of it we are most definitely real, quality friends. It was sad to see her go, tears were shed even, but the truth is that the unmistakable mark she left on David and me has yet to fade. I have a feeling that before it does, she'll be back.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2xSU4L8bXshc00aAgKGtqu93uupeETpSRYCYbC7Pfo9gQKvE9DHXP2UqkJVnOq80Q69MrRj1hs7jFCCo1O8i-EkJahIQtod1h4mBLuX8SSZ4VvXAGD747NNo360B9Uq95gKdxz833mI/s1600/IMG_1092.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2xSU4L8bXshc00aAgKGtqu93uupeETpSRYCYbC7Pfo9gQKvE9DHXP2UqkJVnOq80Q69MrRj1hs7jFCCo1O8i-EkJahIQtod1h4mBLuX8SSZ4VvXAGD747NNo360B9Uq95gKdxz833mI/s400/IMG_1092.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581675808570857890" /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Barcelona misses you, Beth!</span></i></div></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-87690941887643544162011-03-08T02:52:00.000-08:002011-03-08T03:26:41.556-08:00The Time Has Come...<span style="font-style:italic;" >"The time has come," the blogger said,<br />"To talk of many things:<br />Of visitors—some unexpected—<br />Of vows and wedding rings...</span><div><span style="font-style:italic;" ><br /></span></div><div><span >How do you sum up four of the most eventful and memorable months of your life? A better question: How does one forgive himself for failing to record this emotion-packed journey as it was in progress?</span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >Well, since I don't have the answer to either, I had no other option but to just open a new post and begin.</span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >Over the next couple of weeks, I'm going to be dishing out brief* summaries of the most significant events I've failed to recount. Together we can all enjoy reliving one of the most exciting eras of my life!</span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span ><i>*This is a relative term. We all know how capable I am of "brief". I will try to let the photographs do most of the talking, but here's a fair warning to those leery of novella-length ramblings!</i></span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-19244137854520204572010-11-08T02:33:00.000-08:002010-11-08T03:44:16.748-08:004 Stories: Hairdo's<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_feDcG2RV6Kc2FCwWrN5jumKk-fYN8ktwZGG9okjpudHhBqdLtN1nQJrlQT2ALJAxsXY-kHFM18eEUXQpGaERh7S9ZOnd4oUprhH9B4w_rIUOM2wMjg_rfjvuK9a9OVfMoN60PB4_tg/s1600/hair.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_feDcG2RV6Kc2FCwWrN5jumKk-fYN8ktwZGG9okjpudHhBqdLtN1nQJrlQT2ALJAxsXY-kHFM18eEUXQpGaERh7S9ZOnd4oUprhH9B4w_rIUOM2wMjg_rfjvuK9a9OVfMoN60PB4_tg/s400/hair.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537126090110314706" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></u></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1. Oops!...I Did it Again</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I was—I dunno—about seven maybe; my brother and sister got bored. When my brother and sister got bored, and the three of us were home alone, that generally lead to my getting messed with. This particular day was no exception.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Do you wanna look cool like Noah?" my sister asked with a devilish grin.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After a bit of convincing from both of them, I was in. They sat me on the toilet and took a number two guard to my head. They didn't even have the decency to trim my thick bowl cut first! I grimaced through the pain, keeping my eye on the prize.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When it was said and done, I did, in fact, look just like my cool big brother. I was totally satisfied with my new look. Until my mother got home. Let's just say my big bro and sis were in trouble. My mom looked at me, doing her best to hide how mortified she was by what they had done to her favorite child. She failed and began to cry. I, being a momma's boy, followed suit. I was no longer happy with my new look.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Many, many years later, I would finally repeat this mistake, only by choice. I was having one of those "off" periods in life, and thought, <i>hey–if Britney can do it, so can I! </i>Also, I'd had every other hairstyle, so I kind of ran out of options.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZwJpYRMX5TWy_mlTRxraNWARw_Zg9dLjXQvW8ib3yR1uuVO0KbmoQfYOJKE-VdiLiQNwMm6zVu0W5wbWAmZskWi3nNDKBLJK7F7w0HmMqHTtYJ-VHHNgb1VQfDgxZIYdyQJPLaeJZIE/s1600/DSCF2313_1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZwJpYRMX5TWy_mlTRxraNWARw_Zg9dLjXQvW8ib3yR1uuVO0KbmoQfYOJKE-VdiLiQNwMm6zVu0W5wbWAmZskWi3nNDKBLJK7F7w0HmMqHTtYJ-VHHNgb1VQfDgxZIYdyQJPLaeJZIE/s400/DSCF2313_1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537126079658576482" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2. The Male Updo</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Throughout the second half of my college years, one of my best friends, Chelsea, did my hair. She went to cosmetology school prior to entering the fashion program at CMU, and worked part-time at the town's most upscale salon. I was so lucky to have a friend who was constantly looking out for the best interests of my hair. One of my favorite styles she gave me looked like this. Only normally it wasn't quite so windblown and messy.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BN9lGga0tSsnwiwGG4yYMmOlhCnD6PYVBxDT63UdBn5p8Je6KdWuSvLwNUd0cRO263ksAVvy5QvuO2kD2zsJxSjbNtpBADU9x4MjOCDyezhXcvc2fSUE67_98vPhqvqpkT-m0TWZGLY/s1600/photo.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BN9lGga0tSsnwiwGG4yYMmOlhCnD6PYVBxDT63UdBn5p8Je6KdWuSvLwNUd0cRO263ksAVvy5QvuO2kD2zsJxSjbNtpBADU9x4MjOCDyezhXcvc2fSUE67_98vPhqvqpkT-m0TWZGLY/s400/photo.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537125871609696402" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For my first fashion show at CMU, I decided to model one of my looks. Chelsea modeled the other. I wanted the styling to be daring and bold, so I had her take creative control of hair and makeup. I ultimately ended up with this masterpiece. It was so fun to rock such a unique do for a night! I would definitely try it on again!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaa-3Zn4HECdBb5OnbHrXt95eDYN20C0ZTP8qHSl-biVc6nLvCEZ53TLsPH3X8yDinbLbNwrC_OKHpXIlkBmeqzvhP5GO6GOSyLvNX01Z62vyEW_I0GWMuw5Zt9N_PoGNdvMaqOIOCyA/s1600/photo-2.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaa-3Zn4HECdBb5OnbHrXt95eDYN20C0ZTP8qHSl-biVc6nLvCEZ53TLsPH3X8yDinbLbNwrC_OKHpXIlkBmeqzvhP5GO6GOSyLvNX01Z62vyEW_I0GWMuw5Zt9N_PoGNdvMaqOIOCyA/s400/photo-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537125866510641122" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>3. Fun With Faux Hawks</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The following is the silhouette I think works best with my face. I've had variations of it all through my life, but Chelsea's expertise took it to another level. I love how she added a little fun to it with a chunk of platinum. Unexpected use of color is one of my favorite things! I think I'm going to have to go down this route again sometime soon!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTDIPim3iCtULZ2bLl8N6moZQe5XeJRcthFQiYgKepsDmxIpjpHKC6SSBtEGds82YHNznxb3XNvvZNOK2ylKq9bNozP1-Bg0h6TQeagLPnSxgbxt55mlVRlGXAKRajYZYXoxb99kgT48/s400/DSCF0999.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537125853095024066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">4. (EMO)ting</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A couple years later, I decided to try something new. I grew my hair out and dyed it black. Perhaps I was rebelling against the preppy atmosphere I had to work in every day. Sure it was emo, but it was ironically emo, so it's okay.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAY1N8X90E2IEdA2gNJwszDA-zZsiY7ew_5LZ4rju6sp4vpb0xGYVDNS6LZJBOemb27dfuRiw-xFQkfVqwy0gLJ3QJEauJbr_dPhx8lJt1h4HExY-npK2Ha1EobUAgbLV6GmdwXKVcR8/s1600/IMG_0384.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAY1N8X90E2IEdA2gNJwszDA-zZsiY7ew_5LZ4rju6sp4vpb0xGYVDNS6LZJBOemb27dfuRiw-xFQkfVqwy0gLJ3QJEauJbr_dPhx8lJt1h4HExY-npK2Ha1EobUAgbLV6GmdwXKVcR8/s400/IMG_0384.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537125862263275506" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That wasn't enough though, I needed to take it a step further. So the next time I got a cut, I opted for my first ever asymmetrical do. Sometimes it feels good to stand out a little. I was thrilled with how it turned out—and with the feedback I got!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqf96KZqHvk_F_ENDapoBFHe4Z5cZnBk-y2BzfPPuGVEFfUCHbwltN9E09vAq60x7vciS8wEd9dgTdpSZxheMzJChpzbMDCW7PgSap4zExf7Ychfkr9ABj6KnDRrqD4PSMR4cQdcYdxM/s1600/IMG_0576.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqf96KZqHvk_F_ENDapoBFHe4Z5cZnBk-y2BzfPPuGVEFfUCHbwltN9E09vAq60x7vciS8wEd9dgTdpSZxheMzJChpzbMDCW7PgSap4zExf7Ychfkr9ABj6KnDRrqD4PSMR4cQdcYdxM/s400/IMG_0576.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537125859386875794" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I play with hairstyles a lot for a guy, I guess it's because I'm constantly craving change. When it's time for a new chapter in life, I feel like going all out and changing my look to reflect it. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I didn't even mention my high school hair adventures! Like the time I had Aqua hair, and then tried to die it black, but it turned purple! As it grew out, my whole head got sort of splotchy with dull greys and greens. Everyone said it looked like mold! Did I just share a fifth story? Whoops, I did!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway, if you want to check out other fabulous bloggers recounting their tales of past do's (and don'ts), head on over to <a href="http://frecklednest.blogspot.com/2010/11/4-stories-hairdoos.html">The Freckled Nest</a>. And don't forget to share your stories, be it in your own blog or in the comments!<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTDIPim3iCtULZ2bLl8N6moZQe5XeJRcthFQiYgKepsDmxIpjpHKC6SSBtEGds82YHNznxb3XNvvZNOK2ylKq9bNozP1-Bg0h6TQeagLPnSxgbxt55mlVRlGXAKRajYZYXoxb99kgT48/s1600/DSCF0999.JPG"></a></div></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-60095832655512437992010-11-03T06:23:00.001-07:002010-11-03T06:35:32.956-07:00My Office<span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So I'm doing that thing again, that thing where I don't blog for days at a time. But this time, I forgive myself!<br /><br />As you probably remember, November is a crazy month for people like me. <a href="http://giganteinwaiting.blogspot.com/2010/09/nanowrimo.html">NaNoWriMo</a> is in full swing, and although it's consuming most of my days, I'm managing to stay on track. In order to be successful, you have to write an average of 1,667 words a day. We're on day three, and I'm about to hit 5,000, finish my second chapter, and I show no signs of stopping just yet!</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It's been a continued struggle to keep myself off the brilliantly amusing but gravely distracting NaNo forums and back into my prose, but I'm feeling optimistic about this year. It's easy to when I have such an amazing office to work from!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7m_JifuttGLiVYjIiLuMOvcG_O2q_itAHh7Q2vGtvWp6ERnxdmlaF2_xn5BI_1ClnzeXn2V3umz3YxaIacuWdR7wuzpA4viXgl8n7q1_UQtNWo-uoMAt9FcgiZxECxou965iSE48YpM/s1600/DSC05379.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 344px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7m_JifuttGLiVYjIiLuMOvcG_O2q_itAHh7Q2vGtvWp6ERnxdmlaF2_xn5BI_1ClnzeXn2V3umz3YxaIacuWdR7wuzpA4viXgl8n7q1_UQtNWo-uoMAt9FcgiZxECxou965iSE48YpM/s400/DSC05379.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535315379651069090" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />My book has already attempted on several occasions to hurl itself in another direction. My characters are also sneaking in little changes to my original idea and taking control of the reigns a little. In the end, I can't wait to see what I come up with. It's going to be pretty bad, as all first drafts are, but magical things can happen when you turn that inner editor off!</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In the coming weeks, I'll try to keep you up on my progress, reveal a bit more about my story, and possibly even share an excerpt.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To those of you who are participating, Happy Noveling!</span></span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-13895744522392321352010-10-28T02:38:00.000-07:002010-10-28T04:32:48.553-07:00Panellets<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yesterday, while David was hard at work, I set off for his parents house. With the absence of my favorite American holiday here (Halloween, obviously), David and I decided to throw our own little costume party. David assured me that we could not have the party without panellets, so his mother graciously offered to help me make some. I have very little baking experience, so I was both hesitant and excited to embrace this Catalán tradition.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDkSxmZvuPrc4eagYdMUFNnl2iL6ngmTKhP2FeCvJ9eq54AUEKZsBvc0wvEAQmESuNr9yW4pj2e23pRI2QNegopLXWRZhhi40b7n0FDTa5UYHmCMfanVtljm0GKEWCZz_Xd9gPCIkejc/s1600/DSC05318.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDkSxmZvuPrc4eagYdMUFNnl2iL6ngmTKhP2FeCvJ9eq54AUEKZsBvc0wvEAQmESuNr9yW4pj2e23pRI2QNegopLXWRZhhi40b7n0FDTa5UYHmCMfanVtljm0GKEWCZz_Xd9gPCIkejc/s400/DSC05318.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533045909664983858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You might be wondering what these Spanish treats have to do with Halloween. Well, they don't, not really. They are actually a custom of All Saints' day, a Catholic holiday celebrated on November 1st. Due to its close calendrical proximity with Halloween, which is rising in popularity every year, and "All Hallows' Eve" itself being derived from a mixture of All Saint's day and the Celtic festival of Samhain, David and I are merely embracing the blurring of culture and tradition which will inevitably occur down the line.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You've probably heard of the Day of the Dead, an extremely colorful Mexican holiday that also begins on the first of November. It, too, is actually a hybrid of the Catholic All Saint's Day and pre-hispanic Mexican traditions. With the rapidly growing influence of American culture, Halloween is also seeing widespread popularity in Mexico during these festivities, especially in larger cities. I was bewildered to see this bizarre interfusion of cultures in Mexico City back in 2001. It was a hybrid of two hybrids!</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGm5hR7PYO-DU3Ct8_YvcwiBxLCtFvnp_x8Ritz1MPFzQspIrWeozt_qMozoHvdMadjWOT638GuJ9b6lrH3zUXVqI_Qs7hlzEcoxMb4ASPC4BgSA7x5eIt8BP6FZUUjA44u6Rzt7seHGQ/s1600/DSC05322.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGm5hR7PYO-DU3Ct8_YvcwiBxLCtFvnp_x8Ritz1MPFzQspIrWeozt_qMozoHvdMadjWOT638GuJ9b6lrH3zUXVqI_Qs7hlzEcoxMb4ASPC4BgSA7x5eIt8BP6FZUUjA44u6Rzt7seHGQ/s400/DSC05322.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533051556618263170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px; " /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5OI24ioQ8x6hs0L3f-aMkoL-00oYNB3vHRNVbUR7tkGfY7OMqpCqL57MYF4RMXWBDNHUhxmKZ7973fucD7vhTy_d8jMvI1AbVNKFpsSu0d5Pw0J7_g2q8fnmKpzMy2neEdTuUjSos7Y/s1600/DSC05321.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5OI24ioQ8x6hs0L3f-aMkoL-00oYNB3vHRNVbUR7tkGfY7OMqpCqL57MYF4RMXWBDNHUhxmKZ7973fucD7vhTy_d8jMvI1AbVNKFpsSu0d5Pw0J7_g2q8fnmKpzMy2neEdTuUjSos7Y/s400/DSC05321.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533051542306193650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 354px; " /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1eAqZyBkSUXamoZO1F1v5HFbE6M_QxePPeAQ5yR__SU6QKgOX70zrC5PJOJJGV5SOyOKP60noaSTb6Q1wuymm1D8uE22A9Qvc7AtQi5yUZ30cTZFbj6pv1b27KLDyiewSSDwuwA2PdzQ/s1600/DSC05320.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1eAqZyBkSUXamoZO1F1v5HFbE6M_QxePPeAQ5yR__SU6QKgOX70zrC5PJOJJGV5SOyOKP60noaSTb6Q1wuymm1D8uE22A9Qvc7AtQi5yUZ30cTZFbj6pv1b27KLDyiewSSDwuwA2PdzQ/s400/DSC05320.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533051532865793010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Back to the delicious topic of this post: panellets. The dough is a twist on marzipan, concocted with sugar, lemon rind, almond meal and potato (or sweet potato). </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rME04ZycPj2RuP5xPnmHUjzHrf6CHc9GnZ33fSA-yoDbmSC17-rtfje2MvwmATXFqMUUA_Jb6POmoiVmPjOe8j_RZgMCsQi18XJZrwhWg9MQNXP0M-Ty48SVKZjNHF-ZYMfS_OkjsBg/s1600/DSC05297.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rME04ZycPj2RuP5xPnmHUjzHrf6CHc9GnZ33fSA-yoDbmSC17-rtfje2MvwmATXFqMUUA_Jb6POmoiVmPjOe8j_RZgMCsQi18XJZrwhWg9MQNXP0M-Ty48SVKZjNHF-ZYMfS_OkjsBg/s400/DSC05297.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533045977603987650" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The dough is generally rolled into little balls, however some variations require other shapes.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBcPC_8uKSfxiFnVYWEcVjyvSw3rrqCBTLv9PH_ISXgbWItr_dRz66lk-cdro2bgMQRnUeZt4mjmJRlWHpKBc_QXxx57dJEKEcMT4vCLiCpOWbpf2u16JLNH-Eec9hFDKxfFIJeAH2bE/s1600/DSC05312.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBcPC_8uKSfxiFnVYWEcVjyvSw3rrqCBTLv9PH_ISXgbWItr_dRz66lk-cdro2bgMQRnUeZt4mjmJRlWHpKBc_QXxx57dJEKEcMT4vCLiCpOWbpf2u16JLNH-Eec9hFDKxfFIJeAH2bE/s400/DSC05312.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533045959477073602" /></a><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The balls are rolled in egg white, which serves as an adhesive, and then they're adorned with various goodies. The most common addition is pine nuts. We also used chocolate, cherries, coconut, crushed almond, and even made little mushroom shaped ones with chocolate sprinkles on the stems! Later the yokes of the eggs are used as a varnish to give them a nice golden brown color when they bake.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZPzHhEa6zaPhPey1Kl-W2VMNZ8Df6gh6LtMHNfFLJx9hqNF5Ewx1L3lpu_m0rl58T_v7_k87dDOyA0F3A-fNyszbrirIp6fPKRbvyxysLgxuPW13YP4L2wPpRvsDOYtGmCkReaQqFZc/s1600/DSC05315.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZPzHhEa6zaPhPey1Kl-W2VMNZ8Df6gh6LtMHNfFLJx9hqNF5Ewx1L3lpu_m0rl58T_v7_k87dDOyA0F3A-fNyszbrirIp6fPKRbvyxysLgxuPW13YP4L2wPpRvsDOYtGmCkReaQqFZc/s400/DSC05315.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533045939013681554" /></a><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fresh out of the oven, I got to try my first panellet! And let me tell you, they are delicious! I'd never tried anything remotely similar! I can't wait to break out the rest for our party this Sunday! </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQlwnIl37le2f1oK1dpRpYpV69TnJlfEMM2-XG-6ZQmUeTwz937tUBLyRrGkRocMZ2oyWffar7ixEJPDh312GMSBZPH9K4hw3QxPOOusWI7SRC9_pzraQd0gwkShG3mGnYNxHxvrOE3E/s1600/DSC05317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQlwnIl37le2f1oK1dpRpYpV69TnJlfEMM2-XG-6ZQmUeTwz937tUBLyRrGkRocMZ2oyWffar7ixEJPDh312GMSBZPH9K4hw3QxPOOusWI7SRC9_pzraQd0gwkShG3mGnYNxHxvrOE3E/s400/DSC05317.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533045927266447474" /></a><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If anyone would like the full recipe, let me know! Happy Halloween, All Saints' Day, Day of the Dead and any combination of the three!</span></span></span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-88260991143789954002010-10-26T03:08:00.000-07:002010-10-26T09:33:43.951-07:004 Stories: Childhood Games<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A few weeks ago, my dear friend <a href="http://www.lilacsaloon.com/runningstitch/">Megan</a> introduced me to a really cool group blog series called <a href="http://frecklednest.blogspot.com/2010/09/4-stories-swimming.html">4 Stories</a> which was started on one of my new favorite blogs to follow: <a href="http://frecklednest.blogspot.com/">Freckled Nest</a>. Every week, she writes four random stories about a given topic, and then encourages readers to do the same in their blogs. Enjoy mine and feel free to link to your own, or even just share them in the comments!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 529px;" src="http://i843.photobucket.com/albums/zz356/michelle_blogcss/Blog/childhood4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>1. Team Green</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Though I lived in a pretty rural area, I was fortunate enough to have somewhat of a subdivision with just enough children to form a play group. Lucky for us, our elementary school playground was practically in our back yards, so most of our mischief was dealt there.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One Sunday, a few of us decide to make our rounds. We were shocked and utterly disgusted to find that someone had defaced <i>our</i> playground. Toilet paper littered the entire lot!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0gWVbgReyDtYJhcvKmF7iKlL05pUI_P3_fsI34qxI0Skr75utTgRhcgqv6fxKs478j8wkLe45lfQijB2E84n7rWQ9tZHIgeJnEUnvBpXtO7_ltLBHKcC82Kh7T4wovQrMyapkOJG2UNo/s400/DSC05293.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532307292274061426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">An unprecedented sense of moral obligation surged through each of us simultaneously. It was up to <i>us</i> to clean up this mess. And when we did, we would be heros! The principal would surely declare a national holiday in our honor! We rushed to my house, explained the situation to my mother (who was most likely supportive in her ambivalent sort of way), grabbed some garbage bags and swiftly got to work. Neither of us had ever felt so proud. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure I've felt prouder to this day! You know, kids just <i>feel stronger.</i></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFFGIUYIu0UFxUQG5qOGbQ9l5_nktGRnjWdHxxUxsgJMui8CFwSpjmfh_K-SpoSRgRYfkm_HwjEQsw26QxU7TcbvLyxIORTmCOBrMjXZBOjL1YQjqs5_pM_L8xCfrgU3OG8M442N0i6c/s400/DSC05294.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532307294294447090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; ">The quality of this camera's photos are so bad I can't even tell which is me!</span></span></i></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Outrageously, we never did get our holiday. You see, we hadn't really thought the whole thing out. Since the vandalizing had occurred over the weekend, and we cleaned it up before the week started, nobody on the staff had gotten to experience the mess first hand. With the two giant garbage bags full of evidence already resting in some landfill somewhere, our principal surely must have thought we were exaggerating. We rest assured however, because we had been clever enough to take photographs! Too bad the attention span of a fourth grader is marginally shorter than the time it took to develop film in those days. I think in a way we all kind of learned a lesson that day. <i>Don't</i> do the right thing, because nobody will care.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>2. It's Morphin' Time</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I was little, my four cousins and I were inseparable. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">One of our all time favorite and most frequently played games was Power Rangers. We would all fight over which color ranger to portray. Shelly, being the oldest of the two sisters, naturally got to be the pink ranger every time. Ginny was stuck with the yellow one.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We would often take the game to the aforementioned playground. We would climb on the "fort" (shown in the above photo), which had the magical capability of transforming into anything from Ariel's under the sea palace to Zordon's Command Center. We swore that if we jumped from the highest point, we became a streak of whatever color we were wearing, just like a teleporting ranger. We would take turns calling out our respective dinosaur and leap off to find our foe, all of us, that is, except for Ginny.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ginny was a fragile and somewhat... clumsy child. She would typically shout out her zord and then slowly make her way down the adjacent ladder. Well, one day, in what I wouldn't particularly call my most proud moment, I got tired of Ginny throwing off the whole effect. "Morph, Ginny!" I probably yelled as I pushed her off the edge. Even the other kids seemed to think I'd done wrong as they tried to calm down my cousin, sobbing and with a mouth full of sand.</span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdMVCkSZJSzt1tzquZpg2sPkS1C41hm3jZQqDANYd2Rn_KLgRwNTa8qk-BkXxZewzKU0e5mWItO2hdK55HYmBTi_cQq_ulQ6yPuEJpK9XhtuYGtDF8jaxEQQDcOgZ22voWosMNffHByg/s400/DSC05296.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532307300614098674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; ">Shelly and I passed out, probably due to a long day of kicking Putty ass!</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>3. Magic Carpet Ride</b></span></span></div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Another glorious past time I shared with Shelly and Ginny was putting on first-rate plays and musical numbers for our parents. We would practice all day long and then hold our premier in the living room later in the evening when our parents were just buzzed enough to feign interest. One of the best productions we ever put on was our rendition of Aladdin. Our version, not surprisingly, had <i>two</i> Princess Jasmines!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The early stages of rehearsal often involved a little R&D. We were pretty bright children, and were one hundred percent determined on creating awe-inspiring scenery and special effects. Unfortunately, sometimes, the logistics did not work out in our favor. Like in the case of the magic carpet scene. How can you adequately suspend a blanket (representing the carpet) in the air so that it will support the weight of two eight year olds? Short answer: <i>YOU CAN'T.</i> Don't try. Don't try tucking one end under the mattress of the top bunk and then tying the other end to a floor lamp! Don't try supporting one corner with a ceramic utensil holder that weighs five pounds at best! You will <i>break shit</i> and you will <i>get in trouble!</i></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>4. Awesome Science Genius Kids</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Again, in elementary school, when it was too cold to go outside for recess, we would play in the classrooms. A new show called Awesome Science Genius Kids* had become extremely popular with the student body almost overnight and it was the only thing the cool kids were playing. We would all hover around the sink, the area of the classroom which most resembled a laboratory, and we would take turns saying "smart things".</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One lunch hour, after a particularly awesome imagination session, on what could have been Chicken Patty day, so I'm going to say that it was. Because those rocked. Especially when you drenched them in ranch dressing. I miss ranch dressing. I digress, big time. So anyway, this kid Shawn showed me a plastic test tube he had gotten out of a home chemistry set. He had brought it in and filled it with water and I thought it was like the best idea ever, because the characters on our favorite show played with test tubes and beakers and stuff all the time! My brain began to tick. I had a chemistry set! I could bring in a test tube! I could be <i>even cooler</i> and put something colorful in it like juice or Kool-Aid so that it looked like a real life, top secret, hazardous chemical! <i>Yeah!</i></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Somehow I must have known that I was doing something wrong, because I remember hiding the orange juice-filled test tube on my way to school. I whipped it out at lunch time and received the exact level of acclaim I'd anticipated. And then I had one of those dumb, clumsy, kid moments. My test tube was not made out of plastic, but glass. And then it was made of a million tiny, little pieces lying in a puddle of OJ on the cafeteria floor. And then I had the death grip of the principal yanking me to her office to scold me—wait, you know what? I'm angry now! Did I really do anything wrong here? Grownups are <i>SO</i> uptight!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>*<i>The name of the show was not "Awesome Science Genius Kids". In fact, I'm not even sure there was a show <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>like this at all anymore. I spent literally three hours this morning googling and tracing the lineups of every TV <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>network only to come up empty handed. I believe one of the main characters was a redheaded boy. Circa <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>1993. Does anyone remember this show? AM I CRAZY?</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><b>UPDATE: </b>It was called The Tomorrow People. Another hour of searching did the trick!</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So, I hope you enjoyed my four stories! They got a bit lengthy, heh? Don't forget to share your own and to check out <a href="http://frecklednest.blogspot.com/2010/10/4-stories-childhood-games.html">other contributions</a>!</span></span></div><div><br /></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-11796957711893747952010-10-22T01:37:00.000-07:002010-10-24T11:14:09.554-07:00Labyrinth Park of Horta<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One of the less famous attractions in the city is the Parc del Laberint d'Horta. I have wanted to see this place since over a year ago when David and I watched <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0396171/">The Perfume</a> and he pointed out the many surreal and breathtaking locations that were shot in Barcelona. Naturally, the scenery has been heavily edited, but just look at this clip! (I didn't realize it was dubbed in Spanish until the DVD was ripped, converted and imported into iMovie, my apologies!)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><center></center></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzW-J_TmZimH5k7S2mkCviFle_hW3rgY-jwAjktRs6uKrAZXgrI6DI2QCr4I7IZ017m-AJp4-donBNmkzdKkw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If you're looking for a little whimsy, this park is an excellent resource. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; ">The neoclassical and romantic gardens are part of an estate that belonged to a family called Desvalls until it was donated to the city in 1967. Prior to this, it had been the host to many social and cultural events, including open-air theater performances.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpRZrDpyPdHzQ4H6IMCtZEEmK3xBOIeVk8q4hw6jOaE4jh-xrhQD3pkFsbk5f0E0rUgy5Abgae-Mry9B08ku_ZQVcXRY9tiOSFDm1OI0y335q24G5SLB72TaulNDkTWf4g4wO9h3mD40k/s1600/DSC03884.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpRZrDpyPdHzQ4H6IMCtZEEmK3xBOIeVk8q4hw6jOaE4jh-xrhQD3pkFsbk5f0E0rUgy5Abgae-Mry9B08ku_ZQVcXRY9tiOSFDm1OI0y335q24G5SLB72TaulNDkTWf4g4wO9h3mD40k/s400/DSC03884.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530794246805347394" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">The Desvalls palace</span></b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The real gem of the park, for me, is the stunning cypress maze, which is the source of the park's name. What child doesn't dream of playing in a real life labyrinth! Seriously! Don't you just love those rare moments when you get to cross one of those "things to do before I die" off your list?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIBlTbOsYDL5zHkcBHKPLoAUYY-9o0Jh9cQtpcOaiUbqKPQL8AczMYo7qMYsQPWTr-9zNsB1s1-rL_l3LLGtgigdjmZ1-A0_J0t7rnivCpJ0rJnnYz5c54lUeAZG41A-V_ue7oKvnVtaI/s1600/DSC03893.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIBlTbOsYDL5zHkcBHKPLoAUYY-9o0Jh9cQtpcOaiUbqKPQL8AczMYo7qMYsQPWTr-9zNsB1s1-rL_l3LLGtgigdjmZ1-A0_J0t7rnivCpJ0rJnnYz5c54lUeAZG41A-V_ue7oKvnVtaI/s400/DSC03893.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530794239731408274" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The maze is actually big enough to get you lost! I think the best part is passing other adventurers going in a direction you've already learned is a dead end. Watch for exchanged sinister smiles as you pass other folks, they are telling.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitP6ZT5iy75hbkYHs8zLVMFKCT1VC2NrXZKNH44L1utV_RfiAUGH6I52hBmg_oyeuUoEZqWoSK8q9iqiAV0uleojif4yWPYh01U57g901ovq4JNE3-uG3DQriRYFtBRUQHpBbCxDjuHcw/s1600/DSC03896.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitP6ZT5iy75hbkYHs8zLVMFKCT1VC2NrXZKNH44L1utV_RfiAUGH6I52hBmg_oyeuUoEZqWoSK8q9iqiAV0uleojif4yWPYh01U57g901ovq4JNE3-uG3DQriRYFtBRUQHpBbCxDjuHcw/s400/DSC03896.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530794231481390274" /></a><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That, my friends, is the face of someone who already knows the way through the maze and is about to dash off leaving his poor, unknowing lover to fend for himself!<br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE7972Nw5aiaJvZzVmy_6AXPFYXI4259uB069vLKW05hX1QzR6Z7fhrnIIiVXbbCdP2FcuNT5NCj1e6qJECOOrYTYo5hPpldDmiLboXYZD-Rh5LBuIwbu8XKi_J5wYb5TbmIhDfglhivc/s1600/DSC03913.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE7972Nw5aiaJvZzVmy_6AXPFYXI4259uB069vLKW05hX1QzR6Z7fhrnIIiVXbbCdP2FcuNT5NCj1e6qJECOOrYTYo5hPpldDmiLboXYZD-Rh5LBuIwbu8XKi_J5wYb5TbmIhDfglhivc/s400/DSC03913.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530794217296717570" /></a></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To be honest, the labyrinth was the only reason I wanted to visit, but I was pleasantly surprised to see how much more the park has to offer. The maze spits you out at tiered terrace which overlooks the park. Behind the central pavilion on the highest terrace is a pond which draws its water from a natural source.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0S8YIE5jlmo8RtbQCKNTeR8WoAOu6ycKxR87kDtQmaYvCNJWFKjBmov__gNgxdmONc_3LbqvRH2K9Ofnpm4LmVz64EQuLBZIAsgrIBZ97xOWqkALBeFSD-RYyVzyDJMjT_nbIkKK0RHM/s1600/DSC03928.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0S8YIE5jlmo8RtbQCKNTeR8WoAOu6ycKxR87kDtQmaYvCNJWFKjBmov__gNgxdmONc_3LbqvRH2K9Ofnpm4LmVz64EQuLBZIAsgrIBZ97xOWqkALBeFSD-RYyVzyDJMjT_nbIkKK0RHM/s400/DSC03928.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530793314272550946" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Once you've successfully made it to the pavilions, from there you can take any of several trails that lead you through the rest of the park. Some will lead you through the woods where you'll find babbling brooks and waterfalls. Fountains and beautiful sculptures are placed strategically throughout.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQVVqLxGNJhVuGmOGV9u3Tc00Kxj3HLHqN0tigJJzLE6HZi0Hes6xXb7jfcmhRqYPDkHHs3RucOXlYjD5-7Qh44h2dIchY-7_gi7TG6M7wMpUnuGEvVuhy5YuoWKSO7AuNHSxSeDV2uA/s400/DSC03939.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530805533140724818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Others will take you to flower gardens that seem to never end.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFd9ocrqaTSU5w0vOiP-WaXacTJIWAof4qc9h02oTAmeycIi3bBqB6SPEetPSvm9DE230t-lP9wZIGuwDGLA_gdcSVrqHCO58dGWTxNCcvCZxQ2e8E0uxCSGL_8oBUZj9pvAf5cj3P43I/s1600/DSC03944.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFd9ocrqaTSU5w0vOiP-WaXacTJIWAof4qc9h02oTAmeycIi3bBqB6SPEetPSvm9DE230t-lP9wZIGuwDGLA_gdcSVrqHCO58dGWTxNCcvCZxQ2e8E0uxCSGL_8oBUZj9pvAf5cj3P43I/s400/DSC03944.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530793307480900210" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You'll be taking pseudo-artistic macro shots until your arms want to fall off.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYzdixUUf07cs-I8SDjaN7hffpwR4IUt76Fg-lqIqMIPFLA5gGg5FB62lc9BNwJyU_5_sPfEBhBsJYMolEYzmeH3h_cb8Wo0Qoe_ultViiZqzGYNGjaUVk4N6Geh0_hogSvW7eaYYaus/s1600/DSC03951.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYzdixUUf07cs-I8SDjaN7hffpwR4IUt76Fg-lqIqMIPFLA5gGg5FB62lc9BNwJyU_5_sPfEBhBsJYMolEYzmeH3h_cb8Wo0Qoe_ultViiZqzGYNGjaUVk4N6Geh0_hogSvW7eaYYaus/s400/DSC03951.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530793298187529874" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozKaqiZ9kOPpHiMdIge-IeG6scM__H2EXSwUqggdtMGJnZoGGN_aRe73rvYLsQ2bygtTVpGABSXMFvj4pJQ4-xKXHWtg2JT_gAs8TKqYvVZ8PWUwYOMJalt3qXOX0LsdRlIs0kZ2fEzk/s1600/DSC03966.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozKaqiZ9kOPpHiMdIge-IeG6scM__H2EXSwUqggdtMGJnZoGGN_aRe73rvYLsQ2bygtTVpGABSXMFvj4pJQ4-xKXHWtg2JT_gAs8TKqYvVZ8PWUwYOMJalt3qXOX0LsdRlIs0kZ2fEzk/s400/DSC03966.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530793295039825426" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I fell in love with this place and was so inspired by students from the nearby university who had planted themselves all over the gardens to study or read. I definitely plan to return. And if you ever come visit me, I'd definitely love to take you!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxA8TGkDonCM7U92HSOpPJyOA512nKltWOMonlov8iEpGaKfZdEfngK6ukPkAWtCKzg1NOaZ2jKjcg514tuL3py0duqYmBXvhsQp-N4HGbG7Dh3sEYExAW3RhBbfS2XF3EAJccKmn9qM/s1600/DSC03975.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxA8TGkDonCM7U92HSOpPJyOA512nKltWOMonlov8iEpGaKfZdEfngK6ukPkAWtCKzg1NOaZ2jKjcg514tuL3py0duqYmBXvhsQp-N4HGbG7Dh3sEYExAW3RhBbfS2XF3EAJccKmn9qM/s400/DSC03975.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530793284359262434" /></a></span></span></div></div></div></div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh yeah, it should be noted that these photos are all actually from July. Whoops! Better late than never!</span></span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-43101893274719264582010-10-21T06:51:00.001-07:002010-10-21T08:31:21.400-07:00Everything's Cheaper in Andorra<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I'm going to try to get myself in the habit of writing daily. <a href="http://giganteinwaiting.blogspot.com/2010/09/nanowrimo.html">NaNoWriMo</a> can be especially difficult if you're not used to writing when you're not "in the mood". As demonstrated by the intense neglect of this blog over the past couple months, I'm <b>never</b> in the mood. I don't have any unique ideas today, so I'm going to reflect on a trip we took back in August with David's parents and uncle. Super early one morning, we all hopped in the car and journeyed to a magical land called...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf6kwqjoE1lH-toVeYTgbMigcOY_rVkgBey1iMG-syf0spQdW5R3D712WLelGqGRQij__Ndnq-ceODHwDLrNuTtH1gfDN1EdL866aS3PD4PPE2InuTdwg7I_6J3TIh0PSAAX40vfRH0wg/s1600/Title.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf6kwqjoE1lH-toVeYTgbMigcOY_rVkgBey1iMG-syf0spQdW5R3D712WLelGqGRQij__Ndnq-ceODHwDLrNuTtH1gfDN1EdL866aS3PD4PPE2InuTdwg7I_6J3TIh0PSAAX40vfRH0wg/s400/Title.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530511600955144642" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Andorra is a tiny little country wedged in the Pyrenees Mountains on the eastern side of the French/Spanish border. I mean, it's literally <i>crammed</i> into the mountains. Walking through the streets of its capital, Andorra la Vella, might even make you a little claustrophobic as no matter where you are or what way you're facing, the street you're on seems to end a few blocks ahead of you with a slab of mountain.<br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5YoxQ2QnMlyg-3vlzrICPBtUb2ziA8tkTV3JJ01_TeoJj5_QuIDOYLSaPziOBluZePrHbz8ll-nNcsAe49XJMfecTLcsyT83VME_6YGDyT0o4Og0UV1tR9qoUXeCbTFg2PKJ5hgHc5E/s1600/DSC04651.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5YoxQ2QnMlyg-3vlzrICPBtUb2ziA8tkTV3JJ01_TeoJj5_QuIDOYLSaPziOBluZePrHbz8ll-nNcsAe49XJMfecTLcsyT83VME_6YGDyT0o4Og0UV1tR9qoUXeCbTFg2PKJ5hgHc5E/s400/DSC04651.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530510570153244914" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOF1A9jBZJVwL8U_EEi-8UoWJ9ZEibCqZCg9cqfl5EQa78haeqQUE4NNEtYZHBmErRfdGx8MHnX8lucSn6iP7IQfHLyVBGfxZ28r7bK0RCc3TmyNr7_rzqk9emug2xSBzwnysm0oA3DMU/s1600/DSC04647.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOF1A9jBZJVwL8U_EEi-8UoWJ9ZEibCqZCg9cqfl5EQa78haeqQUE4NNEtYZHBmErRfdGx8MHnX8lucSn6iP7IQfHLyVBGfxZ28r7bK0RCc3TmyNr7_rzqk9emug2xSBzwnysm0oA3DMU/s400/DSC04647.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530510565607761234" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >When I said tiny, I mean <i>tiny</i>. The entire country is roughly the size of Delaware. The population is in the 80 thousands and there is only one University. But more interesting than its size, are its prices. Andorra is virtually a giant Duty Free shop. If you saw the price for which we bought some staple items (like vodka and cigarettes), you might even wee yourself a little bit. "Tourists" flock to the country to stock up on electronics, perfumes, tires, and anything else their hearts desire. The only "tourist" activity I saw in action was the most common: shopping. David's parents scored a Nintendo DS XL for his brother. David I got finally found a reasonably priced sound system for our iPods. It was a good spree.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6BtnslrlbmcQNrJktA9cfgfPodv_7bzV9E8opkluI2DcoT7M8uG4kc2AGDFTGdHowDEyRaQbmy1LH0iWDPE6qPRoePZCcEdnb_RxMuP5Jtb1-ikqXWBsxbYSuo9nifTSj0a9pi2ZjHw/s1600/DSC04646.JPG"></a></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6BtnslrlbmcQNrJktA9cfgfPodv_7bzV9E8opkluI2DcoT7M8uG4kc2AGDFTGdHowDEyRaQbmy1LH0iWDPE6qPRoePZCcEdnb_RxMuP5Jtb1-ikqXWBsxbYSuo9nifTSj0a9pi2ZjHw/s1600/DSC04646.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6BtnslrlbmcQNrJktA9cfgfPodv_7bzV9E8opkluI2DcoT7M8uG4kc2AGDFTGdHowDEyRaQbmy1LH0iWDPE6qPRoePZCcEdnb_RxMuP5Jtb1-ikqXWBsxbYSuo9nifTSj0a9pi2ZjHw/s400/DSC04646.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530510556191571090" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>David looking cute</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">!</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The city was beautiful and so unique. As we made our way across Cataluña, I began to expect the capital to look like any one of the many decent sized villages that we passed. The ridiculously close proximity to the steep mountain slopes and totally unique mishmash of architecture were a pleasant surprise!</span></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></i></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidj5ketMg3iBVVyXVKAESycwLu7zRt7RUFrYg1sUBKsICLKSD5PCbL8k6Ovzdx1t4WEeK2UQN-bPkTHzQif-3aGFbeQVPa-J40Fe8sTYZDlsjRhOxfLMBUSTWQDPz4BfxM-QGH6y0Wwzs/s1600/DSC04664.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidj5ketMg3iBVVyXVKAESycwLu7zRt7RUFrYg1sUBKsICLKSD5PCbL8k6Ovzdx1t4WEeK2UQN-bPkTHzQif-3aGFbeQVPa-J40Fe8sTYZDlsjRhOxfLMBUSTWQDPz4BfxM-QGH6y0Wwzs/s400/DSC04664.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530510550592506018" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Dali sculpture!</span></b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Before this trip, I had heard of Andorra in passing, perhaps in a geography class, but I didn't really have any idea what it was like. I would love to spend more time there some day, as I'm sure there are many more things to do! The only bummer is that not only is Catalán spoken there (along with Spanish and French), but it is the <i>official</i> language of the country! There's no containing this thing!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzbzIizSwpmi3B94OWVGuJVVn5tNEo1UFqSxW8jHNLlmfPXsbm3wTni4Uj-BTJM9TQnpL50X2YLAKqO71TRfhG9YOjSSMmaHc0ZAu_-WnE_Z-GcfYHNBhWr8C3L1ptur4bil6MG_Inpg/s400/sign.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530518053093024066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The steep slopes can also be nasty. We parked the car in a mall parking garage for the day, the entrance to which was your average, street-level entrance. After pulling out of the separate exit, we all literally <i>screamed </i>at the sight before us. I swear the car was at a 45 degree angle as David's dad inched us down the most horrifying three-story ramp any of us had seen in our lives. All in all, though, it was a great way to spend time with the family!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWPWdmx9LUxGnMz6_Lg-Htpf47XDbJQ2PnGY-w4ThDjJGMJkPGZI7XikQgQUKL1fPWBLAJPChoF5jLhRqUKt80bfb4-BuIAlSR_R60Rq558w9X-GFDIsqS08aQea2PFAvjZq_m5Qsb7g/s1600/DSC04663.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWPWdmx9LUxGnMz6_Lg-Htpf47XDbJQ2PnGY-w4ThDjJGMJkPGZI7XikQgQUKL1fPWBLAJPChoF5jLhRqUKt80bfb4-BuIAlSR_R60Rq558w9X-GFDIsqS08aQea2PFAvjZq_m5Qsb7g/s400/DSC04663.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530510534284635826" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Elvis cow!</span></b></span></i></div></div></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-74912998005319032042010-10-20T04:52:00.001-07:002010-10-20T06:46:55.918-07:00Autumn Indoors<div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I think pretty much everybody has a favorite season. I think artists, especially, have a certain time of year they spend the rest of the year looking forward to, a season that brings them more inspiration than the rest. Since I can remember, I've been undecided between Summer and Autumn. Summer has the sun, the beach and its long, warm nights. Fall has, well, fall fashion, bonfires, Halloween, and the most vibrant scenery of all the seasons. I'm particularly fond of the latter, which is why the arrival of fall this year has me a little bummed out.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I was recently stunned to learn that Barcelona is latitudinally comparable to Southern Massachusetts. The Mediterranean climate, however, prevents the leaves from ever actualizing their exquisitely colorful potential. Instead, we just get a sort of dull brown-green shade sprinkling the parks and lining the streets (in addition to the always green palms that are perhaps more abundant to begin with). </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8LcS1yWrcD64Gi6vuSP6lMRqEFW2a3YQUziq8ei59yFqsjPMp-4LIZ4iZ7O6b-ri7uhTd9Zq6-YHaapG0yrTMJ2zNLt_rjjZw-c5ZCKU4aehRENPhE8s7hSQFMZNnIagjDr7frH7eFs/s1600/DSC05278.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8LcS1yWrcD64Gi6vuSP6lMRqEFW2a3YQUziq8ei59yFqsjPMp-4LIZ4iZ7O6b-ri7uhTd9Zq6-YHaapG0yrTMJ2zNLt_rjjZw-c5ZCKU4aehRENPhE8s7hSQFMZNnIagjDr7frH7eFs/s400/DSC05278.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530095514274153250" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This morning I woke up to a bit of a mess that I don't plan on cleaning up anytime soon. For the Halloween party that David and I threw in Columbus last year (in September, mind you), we bought a pack of fake autumn leaves. David was so in love with them that he took them back to Spain with him. When we unpacked the Halloween decorations this year, he spread the leaves all over the table. Naturally, with a kitten in the house, they wound up littering the floors of just about every room.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkIK0o968xtA6nYRQr4OFUuDNMtE9maXEVsd9-YzyMGspbuL2oqA4A2YHbNESCl0vwalbxJL1j9cQVw8Sm6TqNZ4IXx2KE4LE-ILYW7B5ttiMLVViLRvwZjGu8xKzOCyQv3ClwiCLrDqg/s1600/DSC05268.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkIK0o968xtA6nYRQr4OFUuDNMtE9maXEVsd9-YzyMGspbuL2oqA4A2YHbNESCl0vwalbxJL1j9cQVw8Sm6TqNZ4IXx2KE4LE-ILYW7B5ttiMLVViLRvwZjGu8xKzOCyQv3ClwiCLrDqg/s400/DSC05268.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530095508730590610" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcRZfAN5IHvPDq5I7buO9fUYFTGF8rDwP42ylJlza5MBXSib7LlhlpXgvUxP0RSn3bLZ4li46leP2uN-OQT7QcGr1N05iYnvgC66QV3Yp35Z25bT2zyeVRCQvdo6Z10huPEFGt2piHu7s/s1600/DSC05275.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcRZfAN5IHvPDq5I7buO9fUYFTGF8rDwP42ylJlza5MBXSib7LlhlpXgvUxP0RSn3bLZ4li46leP2uN-OQT7QcGr1N05iYnvgC66QV3Yp35Z25bT2zyeVRCQvdo6Z10huPEFGt2piHu7s/s400/DSC05275.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530095505087202642" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkjh56aD3bsyU_7bR9mKSVR_FljLv6GVvkYCX6w1Prw3r1qvlVrGw78nsglLALROEPgCVx7SnxJd1Gzp7K0RXy_JVtClDhXxVJeoHiFyZZhax-gHMtfqwQ5aJR6DCp3S8vgmN7oXlh7U/s1600/DSC05263.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkjh56aD3bsyU_7bR9mKSVR_FljLv6GVvkYCX6w1Prw3r1qvlVrGw78nsglLALROEPgCVx7SnxJd1Gzp7K0RXy_JVtClDhXxVJeoHiFyZZhax-gHMtfqwQ5aJR6DCp3S8vgmN7oXlh7U/s400/DSC05263.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530095500068711970" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">It's amazing that I didn't even </span></b></i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">ASK</span></b><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> him to pose for these.</span></b></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway, it seems pretty trifle, but since I spend so much time alone in my apartment these days, it's nice to have one of my favorite parts of the outdoors come inside. It's amazing how something so simple can bring so much joy and inspiration!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh! <i>Why </i>am I alone in my apartment these days? </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">David got a job! </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sorry I haven't mentioned that yet, I just don't really believe in posts that solely consist of "this happened". Boring.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So anyway, that's what happened! (o_O)</span></span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926217127968553503.post-38650659110925129902010-10-18T02:54:00.000-07:002010-10-18T04:25:47.274-07:00Bombings, Whirlwinds and Cheerleaders<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; ">Let me begin with a dream I had last night.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I was back at my alma mater: Central Michigan University. I was in a computer lab in one of the quads, working fervently on a generic essay when BOOM! There was a huge explosion. The Towers residence halls had been blown up. Strangely, nobody around me was in a state of shock. The second round of bombings brought down the library and a few other buildings, yet everyone remained calm. "Nobody would blow up this quad," everyone kept reassuring me. I went along with it. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCykPpHi8S3GYNVuqinsfj5j94Fb_fI_hOJz_J2c3C7n8rkK42Gvx84mJ8ULTvzayojEm3whzB1Rk9DhM_XbrzsFF0OekFG-r7pYs_fuaRB0Oh7bmgHUXQ4Jv9YmVYZBliPf1x37kajQ/s400/towerattack.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529333517771759442" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px; " /></span><div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "><b>Look at THOSE</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "><b> </b></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; ">mad</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "> </span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "><b>Photoshop skills!</b></span></span></i></div></div></span><br />Then the third round struck; I wasn't feeling so assured. I made my way to a courtyard in between residence halls. Someone I was with pointed down to a dorm on the first floor and said, "That's Heather Morris' dorm, did you know she went here?"<br /><br />"Yeah," I replied, and suddenly I realized why we were safe in that quad; who would blow up the amazing Brittany from Glee?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTki4xCXLpgXLv7NmeCgPxG1TSy3BJuBg2tVVS42ukF28iN7c1raLUJmc599LfeweRgt0TLur9hB1i4CRrm_uSKr-JHaiAP7pLALusaiasTDhi1ZjMCh-H1w2usTLHaUSojOmql2AkRs/s400/BrittanySeason2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529344594946660866" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 236px; " /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span>I've been having many oddly dramatic dreams lately. A lot of them involve tornados, which according to various online (and therefore not the most reliable) dream dictionaries, signal abrupt, life-altering changes. Well, yeah... </span></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The absurd thing about these dreams is that I consistently remain calm through the most terrifying experiences. I attempt to interpret most of them, and often think my findings somewhat accurate.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaHJ7_8atrBQSa7lJjPMoB1Mg9o1w6f9ctBklSPOjCiSxtG4Y9GLsI_kBhnKSInMFWKW9RqyPQnIY_mB71OnT_MPnsI9y2fCVsYljoxwlYEkIxql5r8kzYYkuy6pO6XUwVo2MGHci4Y8/s400/desastres-naturales-los-tornados.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529333897267783282" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 325px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Have you had any rememberable dreams lately? Do you ever try to find meaning in them? Do you even believe in meaning behind dreams?</span></span></span></span></div>zerohitwonderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04453348542658203261noreply@blogger.com3