NaNoWriMo

I don't know what exactly prevents me from blogging as frequently as "I'd like", except for laziness, which can't be the entire story, right? I do know that I start out with the intention of writing far more often than my track record will show. Many mornings, I convince myself that perhaps I just need some caffeine in me. I pump myself full of coffee while reading others' blogs until the point in which I'm much too jittery and unfocused to compose even one coherent sentence. Other days, when I aspire to write later in the day, I decide it'd be helpful to treat myself to an afternoon cap or two in order to breakdown the inhibitions that often plague me, prohibiting me from typing in fear that the prose that comes out will be, gasp, less than perfection. I manage a few soon-to-be discarded sentences before ending up sloshed and distracted by the kitten or something shiny.

All of this leads to a very important question: if I truly long to be a writer, why is it that I always dread... you know, writing? Especially when said writing is something as frivolous as a blog followed by mostly friends and family who only want a little insight into the exotic, new life of their long-lost, loved one? No really, if you know the answer, please share in the comments!

Perhaps, I need higher stakes. Maybe the reason I'm not writing is simply because I don't have to. I have more free time than ever right now, so there's no reason for me not to participate in National Novel Writing Month. The objective of NaNoWriMo, which takes place in November, is to write a 50,000 word piece of fiction in one month. It trains the author to get over the often fatal preoccupation with quality in every word that he writes. The mantra of NaNo is Quantity, NOT Quality. In order to produce a successful body of work, it first needs to be written! The bestsellers on your shelf probably barely resemble their original drafts, because writing is a process. I'm going to embrace that process once again, and hopefully mark my second "win" in NaNo.

I already have a plot brewing, and I'm excited to see where it takes me. I don't know exactly what effect this added strain will have on my blog. Perhaps it will leave me burnt out, and you won't hear a word from me in November. Or perhaps I will become so overwhelmed with the book that I'll turn to writing blog posts as a temporary distraction, finally viewing it as the fun, pressure-free activity that it is. We'll see!

It's All Fun & Games! ('til somebody breaks a rib)

Sadly, the last post, this one and most likely some to come will begin with "a couple weeks ago" as I've apparently had more important things to do than update. Sometimes The Sims 3 just calls, you know?

A couple weeks ago (sigh), David and I were sitting here in the apartment debating about whether or not to attend the party in Sitges. Sitges is a beautiful little city situated between Barcelona and Cubelles. It's a popular tourist destination, especially with "our people", as it has a thriving gay community and nightlife. I'd spent an afternoon there during David's vacation time (the same week we visited Cambrils and Tarragona), but much like Gracia prior to attending its annual festival, I had yet to see it in its true glory. Debatably, I still haven't, as it hosts one of the craziest Carnaval parties in Spain, an event I'm both looking forward to and dreading as David's friends have the obligatory tradition of dressing in coordinating drag costumes.

David and I were exhausted from all the partying. We still hadn't quite recovered from the Cubelles party. We eventually rested on the decision to... well, rest. I was taking a nap when David received a call from his friend, Gloria. Gloria has a very exuberant personality, and is endowed with the never-failing gift of talking you into doing things you're really not in the mood for. The baffling thing is that she doesn't use any legitimate arguments in doing so, but relies solely on her distinctively expressive voice and high squeals to distract and perplex you. She's much like Jasper from the Twilight Saga, except instead of transmitting calm, sedative vibes; she makes everyone around her damn perky.

A few hours later, the whole gang was packed like sardines in a train departing from Cubelles. It was unusually hot on this night, and there wasn't even a hint of a breeze. The only distraction from the heat was the aura of excitement radiating from the crowd. It was obvious these people waited all year for this. And to think I'd pleaded David to stay at home and sleep.

Just as in Cubelles, the night was initiated by an impressive fireworks show. This was not your average show. You would think by now, they would lose their allure, but Spain continues to blow my mind with the ingenuity of these presentations. They really know how to fire up a crowd.

The presentation was divided into phrases, like a beautiful piece of music. For about a half hour your eyes were bouncing from focal to point to focal point. Flames cascaded from the prominently placed cathedral. They emerged from the water, raining sparks on the sea of boats docked just off shore to observe the show. The most creative part was a series of booming works used to form a rhythm. The crowd clapped along with the "BAM... BAM... BAM BAM BAM" created by the flashing explosions. Also notable was a fountain-like display set off from a pier.

The only shame was that the lack of movement in the air, which caused the smoke to hover, created a white blanket that with each minute concealed more and more of the spectacle.

Immediately following the fireworks, our group made our way to the sand. It's such a Spanish tradition to congregate on the beach, passing around homemade cocktails and basking in the celebratory ambience. This segment of the evening was reminiscent of my first huge Spanish party, San Juan of '07. I had know idea back then that I'd be sharing many more perfect nights with the same crowd. David is blessed with some amazing friends.

This night, for me, marked a new beginning. I really bonded with each and every person. I no longer felt like an outsider. I may not be Spanish, or even speak the language very well, but I am accepted. I have a place. I have numerous friendships, all complete with hilarious stories and priceless memories.

No Spanish party is complete without dancing. My favorite kind? Dancing in the street.

Long after the party could have ended, I found some treasure partially buried in the sand: an almost full bottle of Bacardi. Some friendships are set in stone over untiring and enlightening conversation. Others, perhaps less glamorously, are locked in over mutual vomiting.

When it was time to go home, our tightly-knit group had unraveled. A part of the group boarded a train that ended its route in Vilanova, one stop prior to Cubelles. Other parts were still scattered throughout Sitges. David and I were running to catch the Cubelles train when I took a rather gruesome fall. Here we were further separated.

Oddly enough, it didn't matter. When the final train left us in a now brightly sunlit Cubelles, we all staggered out of different cars. Just like in a scene out of movie, the group gathered, as if this conclusion were planned. I was in a great deal of pain, but could have partied on longer. We posed for one more photo and called it a night... or rather, morning.

Days later, when the pain in my ribcage still hadn't resided and I finally made a trip to the doctor. I discovered that I had indeed cracked or broken a rib. The pain would last another month or so. The memory of my first Sitges party would live on for much, much longer.

Gracia

As I mentioned in the previous post, celebrating the heritage of wherever you live is a huge deal here in Cataluña (I've reverted back to using the Spanish spelling as it rolls off my fingertips better). Much time, energy and money goes into these annual festivities. Often they go on for an entire week, and the residents of each town, city or neighborhood take great pride in the parties they throw. A couple weeks ago, I attended my second of these events.

Gracia, pronounced just like the Spanish word for "thank you" without the S is a "barrio" in the north-central part of Barcelona that is known for its bohemian/alternative lifestyle. The streets are narrow and winding, reminiscent of the Gothic quarter, but with a less touristic vibe. I'd dabbled in its vicinity when I was in Barcelona three years ago, as I lived just a few blocks south, but this was the first time I saw it in its true glory.

The evening started with a trip to a plant nursery where David's friend Tommy, from the Czech Republic, works. This is where we acquired the first plants we bought for our terrace. It was he that invited us to the festival in Gracia, as he's a resident. We obtained a beautiful new palm with a super "discount" and headed back to our place to drop off the plant and have some margaritas.

When we arrived to Gracia, the party was already in full swing. Have you ever had that feeling when you arrive at a party and you instantly notice that everyone around you is well in to their fifth or sixth drink (or more often in this case: joint) while you are pretty much sober? Well, this was kind of like that, except the crowd of intoxicated partygoers trickled down each street as far as the eye could see. Walking from one intersection to the next can take up to 15 minutes when you have to pry through a tightly-packed, dancing crowd. Eventually we found some blocks that were less crowded, the ones in which the band had already cleared out. Yes, nearly every block had its own live music. It was intense.

In addition to a band, each prominent block had a theme. Every year, the sub-communities choose a theme and decorate their street accordingly. The makeovers are judged early in the week before the non-stop partying has a chance to do any damage. Various prizes are awarded and for the rest of the week, winners get to display these awards at their entrances. The whole concept of this blew my mind! How original! How sweet!

Street of Terror

Alien life

A winner of multiple prizes including Use of Recycled Materials, "Life".

The wood crates are self-supporting, nailed together to create a faux forest.

It's hard to add more whimsy to this neighborhood, but they've managed.

Photo op!

I don't even remember what this one was all about.

Obvious.

My favorite theme: Extinction with Grace

If you are ever in Barcelona in late August, this definitely a sight to behold. I'm continuously perplexed and awed by the creativity and passion that go in to the celebrations here in Spain. It kind of puts the USA's measly festivities to shame! Am I wrong? To me, the only thing that is even close to being on the level of some of the holidays I've already witness here is Halloween, my favorite American tradition by far! What's your favorite holiday? What do you enjoy most about celebrating it?

This Party's on Fire!

Cubelles 2010

This past weekend I had the pleasure of participating in my first party-- or, festa mayor-- of Cubelles. In Catalonia, each city, town (and neighborhood for that matter) reserves a week each summer to celebrate their individual heritage. As David has spent the vast majority of his summers in Cubelles, this party is as much of a tradition as any holiday you or I know and love.

Who knew they had maypoles in Spain?

Going into the experience, I hadn't a clue what to expect. David had explained the affair by telling me that there would be fireworks, people dancing with giant sparklers and ultimately a huge party in a plaza near his parents' apartment. Since fireworks and the like are nothing new to me, I focused more on the party, bracing myself for a Spanish-style extravaganza that would inevitably go on into the wee hours of the morn. What I wasn't prepared for was a rich anthropological experience that not only left an impression me, but also opened my eyes to a vast cultural identity of Catalonia that extends far beyond Gaudí and Sangría.

Amazingly they performed this same dance the morning after the party. And let's just say it wasn't a quiet performance.

Prior to the fireworks and much-anticipated street gathering, David and I went to the historical downtown of Cubelles to see the traditional performances seen above. As the festivities transitioned from quaint folk dances into unrelenting and mind-boggling pyrotechnics, I began to feel like I was in a special on the Discovery channel. What to David and his friends was such a normal and mundane aspect of the annual celebrations (that they haven't even bothered to attend in many years) to me was an awakening. It's moments like these, that still occur after having more or less adapted to my surroundings, that make me feel more alive than ever and ecstatically grateful that I've been handed this new life.

The pink, female dragon has lost her flame in her old age, but now carries the gift of turbocharged, watery breath, which amply moistened the left side of my head later on.

Now, as I previously mentioned, David had told me about the Correfocs, some kind of "fire dance". He described men dancing with around with fireworks... "like sparklers" he described. HA. When a group of tiny children bearing protective, devil-looking costumes began to roam the plaza with spinning "sparklers" only a little larger than I'd imagined, I thought "Well, awwww, how cute!"

The crowd began to back away from the plaza as the second, now slightly taller group took the stage.

Shortly after, they brought in the big guns: full grown men equipped with what could easily be mistaken for weapons of mass destruction.

Anyone else getting a slightly satanic vibe from this all?

And as that apparently wasn't enough to clear the joint, all hail the Dragon!

No communal celebration is complete without a parade. All of that fiery goodness went on the move, bouncing sparks all over the maze of centuries-old narrow streets. The dancers, the dragons, the music all accompanied. Also present were Charlie, the legendary clown (apparently), and the Cubelles giants! (I assure you I am just as lost as you are.)

Hide your children!

This image is just so intense.

After the parade, some resting and dinner with David's family, we met up with his friends and arrived at the beach just in time to see the fireworks. We were closer than I had ever been to the ignition point, as they were set off right on the beach. I saw so many types of fireworks that I had never seen before! The show was the perfect length and very entertaining. I had a flashback to a similar scenario on a certain New Years Eve in a certain other foreign continent and was brought to tears by this perfect fairy tale moment that I had been denied just a few years ago. Everything was perfection. And the evening had just begun.

My favorites were these, which were shot off from beneath the water.

After the fireworks, we gathered with more friends to watch the encore of the correfocs.

These children are encouraged to play with fire.

Have you ever gotten sparks in your eye, Gabriel? It burrrrns.

At that point, some of the core Cubelles guys headed to Patrick's parents' apartment to get the drink on. I met Patrick when I was in Barcelona before celebrating San Juan. He's part of this amazing French family that speak a bazillion languages and live all over the world.

At his place, after taking some Jello shots that his sister had made (you should have seen the faces on the rest of them as they struggled to comprehend this foreign concept), she excused herself and her Portuguese boyfriend to the apartment of Gerard (also present) where the "older crowd" would be hanging out. We made ourselves comfortable on the terrace and played an amazing drinking dice game that was strikingly similar to many drinking games I knew from back home.

When David and my two liter bottles of vodka and orange Fanta were about halfway depleted, we went upstairs to gather the other troops, and then headed back towards the beach for the main event.

The bands played everything from American oldies to local Catalonian music to the Black Eyed Peas. I won't go into much detail as this post is already reaching novella lengths, but I will add that I played the part of the infamous Gloria this year, who is well known for her annual "upset" in the streets of Cubelles. Oh yes, good times.

I will also say this: during the entire party, which for us stretched on until just about sunset, I didn't once think about being in a foreign country. I didn't once think about language barriers. It was all about fun and drink and friends and celebrating all of the wonder that life has to offer. This is my life, as every day is for each of you. And in the end all that matters is whether or not we've made the most of it. I'll cherish this night for the rest of my life, and am already anxious for Cubelles 2011!

Charles Theodore Roosevelt Gard Ambrona III

What is this strange creature?

This is a Charles Theodore Roosevelt Gard Ambrona III!

I just spent about 5 minutes closing out all of the new "stickies" Charlie had created whilst exploring the functions of my macbook's keyboard. And... there he goes again...

David and I acquired Charlie the last time we were in Cubelles (I would happily link to that important and eventful excursion, however, three weeks later I still haven't gotten around to blogging about it). David, his mother and I had just seen Eclipse in a little cinema in Vilanova. As we approached the apartment, David noticed a tiny kitten in the courtyard, following what would could be assumed to be his mother (however dissimilar in appearance... this cat was fuuuugly).

In a passing comment, David suggested we take it in. His mother suggested luring it with tuna, or some other cliched feline vice. An hour later, our hands smelling of tuna and our patience expired from searching in the clump of shrubs, grass and trees seen in the foreground below, we had a new little creature in our hands. A dirty one at that.

Though only about three weeks old, our new friend (who would remain nameless for almost another week) had acquired quite the hunger with the living on the streets and all. So we fed him.

First thing the next morning, we took him to the vet. He checked out just fine, and we stocked up on all kinds of goodies. There was no backing out now! Then it was time to take care of that dingy, odorous coat. Our little boy behaved like a champ!

And the next day, he was already making himself at home in the apartment which we were still adjusting to calling ours. I must add that I think his presence has actually strengthened that sense of belonging. Three's family!

After a couple of days, I regret to admit that his lure began to fade a little. All of the biting and scratching kind of canceled out his entertaining little quirks. He hated being held, and wanted nothing to do with us except for when he was in destroy play mode. All of the things that made my other cat, Franklin Josephine Roosevelt Gard Ambrona III, so special to me were completely absent in this new substitute. And I was the one who had to spend all day with him alone!

Slowly, I began to realize that it's not his fault. Kittens are, by nature, hellions! They grow through various rambunctious and destructive phases, not of all which are particularly adorable. I started finding things in him that I did admire... things we sort of have in common. For instance, he's always casting aside the traditional notions of what's acceptable by society's standards and discovering for himself what works for him.

Why not lay behind the ugly couch cushion? Who says I have to lay on it! This is like the cat world equivalent of the time in high school when my friend Christine and I decided it would be perfectly reasonable to "go out for coffee" in Canada.

The other day I was taking a bath and trying desperately to recall what Frankie J was like as a kitten. I remember certain things, but not much. Then it hit me, one of his most defining traits he possessed when he was about Charles' age! He loved to lick and chew on my hair! Anytime I was sitting on the sofa, he'd be laying behind me, gnawing away. I'd often wake up with my hair and pillow drenched in cat saliva. The same day I came across this realization, Charles picked up the habit! It was a sign!

And you've got to appreciate his initiative. While I was choosing photos for this very post, I found myself confronted with an obstacle of sorts. Charles wanted attention.

Hopefully, when the time comes for Charlie's big brother to make the trip across the pond, the two can find peace in sharing a home and two daddies!

Sneak Peak

I believe that a few weeks ago I made a little promise, a promise to give a video "grand" tour of my apartment. Many of you (familiars) have seen photographs of the place in various stages of incompletion. I wanted to wait for the icing on the cake before giving it its grand reveal: the paint. Due to some recent splurges and setbacks, as well as the consistent heat and humidity, the painting will have to wait. Though I do not have that tour today, what I can offer you is a sneak peak.

It seems every day things shift around a little. As if echoing David and I, our belongings search for that sense of "home."

As I mentioned before, we couldn't help but give into a few impulse buys that make our home feel a bit... cozier.

And like many people when first starting out, we have that "extra room" which we're almost entirely neglecting until we get the important parts of the new place up to par. It's a bit of a dumping zone until we have the necessary money and organization to convert it into our ideal office/guest room/closet.

I have to say, the place has felt like home right from the start. A lot of that probably has to do with the fact that where ever David is feels like home to me, but it's nice to notice that feeling grow. Every day I'm more comfortable, not only in the apartment, but in this neighborhood, in this city. I've got this whacky notion that one of these days, I'll blend in here just fine.

If you like what you see so far, just wait until our vision is truly realised!

B10 Opening Ceremony

The European Athletic Championships are taking place here in Barcelona this year. David and I have caught several of the events on TV. They commenced on July 26 in the Olympic Stadium, which rests atop Montjuïc, a large hill that also boasts the Palau Nacional (National Palace) and the Font Màgica (Magic Fountain). David and I watched the breathtaking opening ceremony live in HD. I was particularly moved by this sequence, which begins at around 8:20 in the video below...



...and concludes here...



I don't know what it is about this unique combination of acrobatics, fountains, lighting and music, but it almost brings me to tears! What a unique way to represent such a unique city! I'm definitely going to have to go check out the fountain show soon. Even without the acrobatics, I'm sure it'll be something to blog about!