"Los Bebes... En... La Escuela"

BARCELONA!
For those of you who have not seen Bridesmaids, the title of this post is a reference to the extremely awkward part of the movie where Helen and Annie are giving the toast, and Annie (attempts to) speaks Spanish.
For reference, watch http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9BVGoKEPR6E, starting at 2:52.

The view from my airplane window FYI. Hey, Swiss Alps! 

All weekend long, any time there was an awkward moment or just a moment where nobody knew what to say... which happened a lot... my friend Jasmine and I just kept quoting this movie. Over. And Over. NOTHING cures an awkward silence like a little Bridesmaids. OR Blades of Glory, but I had to get some new material because my friends were about to start plotting my death after 5 solid years of quotations (by the way, guys, Jay-Z and Kanye just recently quoted that movie in a song... don't know if you've heard it... cause I know you have... so FYI I did it before it was cool. You should appreciate me).
Okay, so, my weekend.
First of all, let's start out with the stark reality that I casually hopped on a plane on a Friday afternoon, and was in SPAIN an hour and fifteen minutes later. Just a nice weekend getaway? This is completely surreal. One second everyone speaks French, then BAM! Hola, senoritas! Yes, please.

Anyway, on we go.This weekend preeeetty much cemented my dislike for the French language and my adoration for Spanish, adoration that had taken an extreme hiatus. Aka since high school. Even if you have no idea what a Spanish word means, you can at least read it off the page and have a 90% chance of pronouncing it correctly. Because you pronounce all the letters. In French, not so much. It's more like you write out a word, then cut it in half, and say that part. It's stupid. Why write an entire word with unnecessary endings and letters and vowels if you aren't going to say any of them? Ever? SO FRUSTRATING! I am better at it than I was, but I really do love the Spanish language. This weekend has inspired me, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to take up Spanish upon my return to the U.S.

Surprises like this little guy, staring up at me from my plate! 

Friday afternoon, we arrived in Barcelona to moist air and a warm sea breeze. With our stunna shades (that's sunglasses, dad) on, we trekked to our hostel that was actually really close to the center of the city. I like that, because since I have discovered my unusual spectacular sixth sense of direction, I feel responsible for getting everyone home. After we settled in, I claimed the bottom bunk as usual, and got our bearings, we set out to find a restaurant that was described as a place where "you can eat like hell, consume a lot of grease, have fabulous desserts, and barely pay a dime." Sounds like my kind of meal, I'm in. Old Dana would not have been up for trying adventurous foods and would have ordered the Margherita Pizza, but guess what? Either recents have inspired a new sense of adventure and zest for life that I really never knew that I had in me, OR the brain tumor that I'm convinced I have is just causing me to have alternate personalities. Either way, I like it. And I ordered paella, a traditional Spanish meal with all sorts of surprises in it.

The group of girls I went with: Myself, Azline, Rachel, Jasmine

It was absolutely delicious. I finished the meal with a delectable slice of tiramisu, and then we moseyed into a nearby grocery store to purchase some alcohol... cause we were in Spain... and are too poor to afford drinks at any bars. Viva la Espana. Obviously we were speaking English, because we were in a group of 2 Spanish speakers, 1 French speaker, and 1 German speaker. Not efficient. As we were standing in line, a guy our age turned around and responded to one of our questions in English. Long story short, it turns out he and his 28 US citizen friends were in Barcelona for their spring break... from Switzerland. 45 minutes away from us. Small world, to say the least! They invited us to hang out with them in the apartment they rented across the street, and it ended up being a really fun night. The guys were really fun and upon further review, knew a strange amount of club bouncers, so they got us in for free. This club/bar was right on the beach, and we danced the night away and took little breaks out on the sand, surreal. Although the whole super intense club scene isn't really my thing, and I got a little freaked out by the amount of 40 year old men that tried to dance with me (including a man who claimed to be a fashion designer in Paris. Neat pick up line, dude), it was something out of my box and something that I needed to experience in order to fully experience Barcelona.

Gothic Cathedral

The next day, we woke up at the crack of 10 am and enthusiastically got ready to go explore the beautiful sunny city! We bought smoothies from a very nice man at a store made completely of fruit, otherwise known as my dream home, and set out for the Gothic Corner. Barcelona is kind of like one of those lollipops where you aren't supposed to know what flavor it is, and usually you don't know, unless you're someone like me who likes to take the wrapper off to see if I like the flavor and then put it back on if I don't like it. In the case of Barcelona, the maps only have some street names on it, and kind of just point you in general directions. So, off in general directions we went! We didn't exactly know what we were looking for, but we would turn corners and see random churches, then turn other corners and be on a street full of adorable shops. Finally, we found the Gothic Cathedral. We sat on the steps and soaked in the sun for a solid 45 minutes, and I thoroughly enjoyed the people watching. Well, enjoyed is a relative term. One thing that is extremely culturally unique to Spain is the fact that people are making out. Everywhere. Nonstop. It's kind of gross. On one hand, it's refreshing to see people so incredibly in love, but on the other hand, it honestly looks really exhausting and also traumatizing for some parties involved. First, that just seems like it would take up so much time... and so much chapstick. I don't know how they would ever have a conversation with being interrupted every 5 seconds. And it happens everywhere. Our first exposure to it was in front of the cathedral, with a couple that choreographed all the places they would kiss for at least 30 of the 45 minutes we were there. Over here? On this step? Oh, switch me. And boy, were they going at it. Well, he moreso than she, because he just looked like he was trying realllllyyy hard to suck her face off and keep her lips for a souvenir. Gross. This happens everywhere, though. On stairs, on trains, on planes, probably in automobiles, on sidewalks.

Some afternoon Sangria. I'm a fan!

ANYWAY. We eventually left the cathedral and ventured on to Las Ramblas, a street known for its supreme shopping. Boy, did we take advantage of that one! We spent a solid 1.5 hours in a makeup store that was dirt cheap, and it was awesome. I had been feeling the urge to do something drastic like dye my hair again (Kelly, I know you read this... don't you dare take advantage of me in this vulnerable time of my life again!!!!), pierce something, or cut all my hair off. I decided the better option was buying some new nail polish and lip stick so I can just feel like I have a new look, instead of doing something that I will live to regret years down the road. Like brown hair.
We then stumbled in and out of clothing stores, obviously making some purchases, one of which, of course, included a Coke Zero on my part. I'm obsessed. We all made a few purchases, and although we had spent the majority of our day shopping and drinking Sangria and not really sightseeing, it was exactly what I needed. I never knew what time it was and never felt like I had to be anywhere, and that is a sensation I don't think enough people get to enjoy.
We also went into a dog store for 20 minutes, while my friends watched me talk to dogs and play with them through the glass. I'm a freak. Sorry I'm not sorry, though, I hadn't been that happy in weeks!

Back of La Sagrada Familia (or part of it, at least)

Back  

Next, we took the Metro to La Sagrada Familia. I don't even know exactly what the purpose of the building is, but I do know that the architecture and attention to detail are incredible. It is not finished yet, and has been under construction for around 100 years I believe. It bothers me a little bit that each section of the structure is a different color and a different style, but that irritation is masked by the sheer beauty of it. Impressive.
For dinner on Saturday, we went for a traditional tapas meal! I ordered fried artichoke shavings and chicken kebabs. My shaved artichokes legitimately looked like fried spiders, but they were actually one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted. I love Spanish food, but I would literally be 500 lbs if I had chosen to study abroad there.

The front. So amazing!

Still not knowing what time it was, we headed back to the hostel to get ready for another night out. Myself and a few other girls opted out of the club scene, as we hoped to find something just as exciting, just a little more laid back. We ended up finding our destination but not being impressed with it, so instead we walked into a random small bar on the side of the road (I'm pretty sure it was because Jasmine had to pee) and struck up conversation with all the bartenders. We were the only ones in the bar aside from a older man at a corner table who was laughing at us, so obviously I made the best decision of going over to talk to him, asking why he was laughing. He was a diehard Spaniard and refused to speak English to me, and somehow I managed to have a decently fluent conversation with him. I was speaking Spanish that I didn't know I knew, but it was so fun! The mystery man ended up being the owner of the bar (thank god he wasn't a serial killer), and I think we ended up staying there for 2 hours or so, just talking with the man about his life and Spain in general. I loved speaking Spanish. The poor bartenders wanted to leave really badly so we left, only to get lost and have to wander into another bar because Jasmine had to pee, again. Even though we never reached a definitive destination, I was beaming with happiness. The weekend was incredible. We had no agenda, nowhere to be, we knew nobody, and were just living. That's how it's supposed to be! We ended up getting home around 3:30 or 4, and that felt early in this city. But again, nobody ever knows the time. But those of you who know me also know that I have a hard time staying out past 1am, so I was just in love with life and the fact that I really feel like I'm living it.

My dinner of fried spiders, aka artichokes.

The next day was very sad, leaving. However, I can't complain that I am living a dream life and am loving myself and my friends more than I ever thought I could.
Sorry I always end with the big cheesefest USA, but really, I have become such a sap being over here. People always say that studying abroad will change your life, and I believed them. It just didn't happen in the way I thought it would. Life throws you curveballs, but you define yourself as a person by how you deal with them.
Weekend conclusions:
I love Spanish, I love Spain, I love sun, and I love happiness.
Although, I'm probably not going to adopt the Spanish custom of constant PDA. Get off me, bro.
Adios, mis amigos!