DAY 19: Alcala

It's quite reassuring when a Spanish person asks you for directions. It's especially satisfying when you know exactly where they need to go and you can say it in Spanish. Get in Slaw!

If I cancel out Friday (my day of rest), in which I slobbed in my pyjamas and watched shit tv all day 'recovering' from the night before, I had a pretty good weekend. Surprisingly today, my boss didn't mind that I had missed work. My lie of being ill was so obvious but yet no comment was made - phew! If you think about it, I was actually ill, it was just my immature self that had made me that way....sangria...whisky....beer...gin.....ANYWAY, on Saturday I went to Sol to try and find a bank. Nope still don't have a bank account, and nope, there were no banks open. Really don't know what I'm going to do :/. So as I was strolling through Sol, across the road I saw this couple who I recognised. I had to double-take because it would be so random that they would be in Madrid this time of year and that I would bump into them, but it was them, it was my friend Fee's parents. I ran over to them and I have to say it was quite comformting having someone I actually knew in Madrid, and they took me for a coffee which was really nice. After that, Lara and I went shopping and found our new favourite shop, Pimkie. It's such good value for such nice clothes. Saying that, I went into the changing room with about 10 items and came out with 2 - I am so hard to please, I never like things on me! Plus, bank balance really isn't too healthy at the moment what with being an unpaid intern! Anyway, got myself a wee jumper and a sort of kimono thing, really don't know if that's cool or not? That's me, trying to be 'edgy' and all that...

I wish I was at San. Bernabeu on Saturday night to watch the Atletico v Real game. I only live 5 minutes away!!! I ended up watching it in a bar anyway with Alvaro, which was still good fun. However, I do have to admit, I am one of those girls who pretends she is into football when really she has no idea what is going on....so....I always say I support Liverpool, just because my Dad and brother do - Stevie G right?! - and on Saturday with Alvaro he asked me who I was supporting, and I just go 'oh yeah I follow Real Madrid'. Excuse me, you 'follow Real Madrid' Sarah?! Name any of their recent matches. The only thing I can say is, I know who Christian Bale is....oops....Gareth I mean!..Gareth Bale! :P Anyway, as an Atleti fan, Alvaro was not too impressed, but it was fun even still.

On Sunday I got the train to Alacala de Henares, which is a cute wee town 40 minutes north of Madrid. There I met a new friend, Liz, who is friends with someone I know from home. Small small world! I had a really nice afternoon with her and the Spanish lady who she lives with, who is really kind of crazy. She seemed to love talking about sex (fits perfectly with me ;) ) and she was teaching us all these dirty phrases...how useful! She also made this A-M-A-Z-I-N-G lunch and I was so so full afterwards. It got to about 5pm and I realised I was fairly tipsy as well what with all the wine and beer she supplying me with - I just find it too hard to say no! Later that day, I met up with Sophie, who is trying to find an apartment there. We went for a few drinks with her friends before it was time for me to really think about going home, what with bloody work the next day!

So here I am in my wee apartment, and it is absolutely pouring outside - I did not ask for this - I moved AWAY from Scotland! Not sure what plans I have this week but no doubt it will include cerveza, cigarillos, baile, duermo, divertido y un poco más sol!!! (For you non-linguists: BEER, CIGARETTES, DANCING, SLEEP, FUN and A LITTLE MORE SUNSHINE) ;)

DAY 16: La Ley

I woke up this morning in my bra and tights, contacts still in making me half blind and make up still on. There was a half eaten bowl of pasta next to me and all the lights were on. I looked at my watch, it said 12pm and I honestly thought it was just broken. So then I looked at my phone and nope, it was 12pm - I had missed work!

So last night I was invited out for drinks with some of the office people. I really didn't want to go. I just imagined a bunch of older accountants having a couple of beers and being home before 12. With what I just described to you as my morning, clearly, I was wrong! I met Isabel and a couple of others at the metro stop and we walked to this nearby bar where everyone was wearing nice dresses and heels .... I was in a blue shirt and denim shorts (which I have somehow ripped). Anyway, the alcohol was free and I was very shy and nervous, so there was really no other option than to drink a lot. Everyone talked to me in English, probably not the point of me being here but hey, and they wanted to know all about the UK and how it's different to Spain. I then got onto a conversation about the differences between Spanish boys and English boys and Spanish girls and English girls. So this guy said to me 'This is how we perceive the British. You will agree with what I say about boys but you will get angry with what I say about the girls.' I nudged him on. 'English boys are...how you say.....assholes?' I agreed. 'And well erm, English girls, I think the word is...easy?' I laughed. 'You're not angry?' he said. 'Not at all. It's true.' And so there we go first impression made, I'm a slag. 

So after a couple of beers, a couple of sangrias, and a treble gin and tonic (yeah it's not just Newcastle folks ;) ), Fernando, crazy crazy Fernando ordered 5 shots of whisky and says to me. 'You're Scottish. You've got to show us how it's done.' Christ. I thought he was meaning I had to do all the shots! Luckily not, they were for other people as well. That did not go down well. 

We were in this bar until about 2am (early in Spain), drinking, smoking inside, dancing, eating...it was so much fun, and everyone was trying to teach me Spanish swearwords. Fernando, crazy crazy Fernando, told me that if I wanted to say that I'm drunk, I can use the word 'mamoda' (I think). However, this has two meanings, the first being 'I'm drunk' like he said, and the second, the meaning he did not to tell me, was basically 'I want to blow you'. Great. So as I said it to people I got a lot of looks like 'alright calm down you Scottish slag' until I was finally told otherwise!

We headed to a club around 2.30am which was really good fun and it was at this point I just became a total mess. It's that moment in the night where just don't care how stupid you look. I was jumping on people, stealing people's hats, taking photos and apparently...sending my friends snapchats of me on the toilet?? I really know how to stay classy. Suddenly it was 5.30am and it was time to go. We all walked out, which at this point I realised all the girls I was hanging with had gone, and it was just me and the boys. Anyway, I really don't know how this happened but I got into a political debate with this guy about the UK and Spain. I say political debate but it was really just him winding me up well with me drunkenly yelling 'yeah but you're country is in so much shit, the UK rule all'. What an embarrassment! I forget sometimes how angry I can get when I'm drunk...some of you will know this all too well! The argument eventually ended after I realised he was just taking the piss out of me and we ended up hugging being like 'I LOVE YOOOOOU'. Typical. 

I remember coming home at 6am and laughing so much and practially talking to myself going 'ah I have an hour to sleep. Hehehe. I'm so naughty. Hehehe.' Now I swear I set my alarm...but erm, clearly I was far too pissed. SO my boss is going to be happy on Monday.....

Oh, and I better mention, I called this blog 'La Ley' because that is what they have all started calling me. It means Law in Spanish. I quite liked it, because because I was 'the law', everyone had to play by my rules...which means, next time I go out with Fernando, he has promised to wear a skirt to represent a true Scotsman ;) yeah buddy.

DAY 14: La Siesta

I am one lazy-ass motherfucker. I thought I could never get into the Spanish way of life with a nap in the afternoon, but wow, I LOVE them. It's not even that I've had many late nights, I'm just fucking lazy. So with the food as well, I am going to be a whale by the time Christmas comes (and I'm hardly going to lose weight then what with the mince pies, roast potatoes and wine). FML. However, I've promised myself I'll join a gym...I just need to move my butt to go and find one!

The past two days have been pretty chilled, a couple beers with Lara now and again, lots of good girl chat going on ;) and really yesterday the only exciting thing I did was erm...clean my flat. I'm so wild. I had gotten into the habit of leaving dishes everywhere and it was really pretty ming. What motivated me? My disgust at myself? No. Sophie who is also a Spanish student at Newcastle arrives today and is staying at mine tonight. Got to make my guests feel comfortable! Saying that, it looks so much better, so I'm going to try my hardest to keep it this way.

Work is a lot better. My new boss looks like Cheryl Cole, so as a secret lesbian admirer of Ms Cole, I'm pretty happy ha. The team are all lovely as well and young and fashionable - that's right, it's back to the pencil skirts and stillettos - the sexy businesswomen is back ;)

DAY 11: Las bebidas y las copas

After a crazy night out in London this summer with my cousin, Izzy, I had such a horrific hangover the next day that for the entire following week I said I would be tee-total forever. Paha - coz that was going to last! Since I've arrived in Madrid, I actually can't think of any day in which I have not consumed alcohol. Here in Spain, you have your 'bebidas' and 'copas'. As I was told last night, a bebida, could be a coffee, a soft drink, water or beer - clearly beer is not counted as being alcoholic here as 'copa' is what you refer to as an alcholic drink, and this is not a beer. 

Anyway, on Friday night I went out with Lara and Christian to 'Club Random'. When I've asked Madrilenos about it, no one knows what it is. If I were to liken it to a club back home, I would have to say Cab Vol. So, for you who know me all too well, not really my scene! However, give me a few drinks, and I'm dandy and I ended up having a really good night! There was one point, where I'm not really sure what I was doing, but I lost both Christian and Lara and had a sudden freak-out. I come out with two people and I've already lost them, in a city I don't know! Classic drunken Slaw. After a while I found them though and thank God because there was this little puny man, seriously like half my height, touching my ass all night. Sometimes I would pretend Lara was my lesbian partner, sometimes Christian was my boyfriend, and sometimes we were a threesome...oh yeaaaah. So this little man, who did not want to leave me alone, asked for my number. Why Sarah, why oh why did you give it to him?! Stupid drunken Slaw. So, yesterday he kept whatsapping me even though I wasn't replying - contact now blocked! He then found me on facebook, did I give him my name? Christ Sarah. Friend request declined. And today, after all that, clearly I am not interested, he tries face-timing me. Such a wee nube. If anyone can tell me how you block a number completely, and not just via whatsapp, then PLEASE let me know. Eurgh! ANYWAY, I had a good night otherwise, and even smoked a a fag inside the club - just such a rebel eh? :P 

Saturday was LAZY. Hungover and not wanting to move, I lay in my bed, eating cream crackers ( the only food I had) and watched shitty tv. Some things don't change no matter where you are. However, Saturday night was a whole lot different. Pedro, BEAUTIFUL Pedro, introduced me to his nephew, Alvaro. We went out for drinks, then dinner, then more drinks (the gentleman paid of course)....and I'll just add now...he's a fucking Hollister model. Get in! Nothing happened though. Classic tragic Slaw. 

Today I had a massive sushi lunch with a couple of the girls from work. Despite my horrific Spanish (which I have discovered I speak so much better when drunk...any excuse for alcohol here....), it was so much fun and just proper girly chat, from fake tan to Kate Middleton to Geordie Shore, with them being in such shock that I went to Newcastle where these Geordies exist. I really hope they don't think I'm like that - not the best impression to make on your work colleagues! 

So now I'm back at my wee studio apartment, still love it, and going to have a siesta before vegging in front of The X Factor. Was I ever going to not watch it just because I'm in Spain? Er, no. Too much love for that show (even though Chezza my bezza is no longer on it :( ).

DAY 9: Los Chicos

IT'S FRIDAY!!!! Slaw is happy happy happy.

So, I completed my first week of work and I have to say, I'm a little bit proud of myself. The work is really not that enjoyable and I honestly cannot stand the women I work with. They're so unfriendly and look down on me so much and literally I just want to be like 'er...fuck you.' However, on Monday, I've been told I'm moving departments to Events Management, which is apparently a lot more fun. Adios putas! 

I have met some lovely work people though and yesterday had a massive lunch with a few of them. I'm also meeting a couple of the girls on Sunday for sushi, so that's good - the social life is expanding!

I do have a particular highlight of work today. Sitting at my desk, this man suddenly appeared and said 'Hola Sarah.' Who was he? I didn't know, but, he was BEAUTIFUL. He was very Spanish looking, and I take back my previous thought about not finding Spanish men that attractive. He stood there, tanned skin, wavy black hair, shirt unbuttoned and a wee cravat. BEAUTIFUL. So, who was he? Ah, it was Pedro - my dad's friend from work who had got me this internship - gotta love a cheeky connection. Pedro took me down to his office and was very welcoming. He kept asking me questions but I literally could not bring any words to my mouth. It was so embarrasing! I almost felt a bit like Anastasia Steele when she first meets Christian Grey, but without the chains, whips and handcuffs of course! (Girls, you know what I'm referring to..boys..the porn of the female world, Fifty Shades of Grey)! I was on the phone to my dad after work and told him how BEAUTIFUL Pedro was. He then goes 'Now, I don't want you being flirty Sazzer - he's married with kids.' Dad, do you think I'm some kind of home-wrecking slut? He's also like 45! Just nice to have some eye candy!

As I said though, Spanish men usually are not very appealing to me. They are so pervy and as you walk past go either 'ssssssssss' or 'you. are. beautiful.' It creeps me out. It's like they almost expect me to turn around and go 'yeah boy, lets have sex, right now.' Ew, no thank you. British boys, however, if you want to tell me I'm beautiful then I will more than welcome that compliment - although I do not see that happening!

Now there's a cafe/bar opposite my flat which I went to by myself the other day. I ordered a beer and tortilla and sat in the sun with my book. The waiter was very 'friendly'...he asked me for my name, where I lived and how long I'm here for and wanted to 'kiss me goodbye' when I left. I have to pass it everyday on the way to work, so whenever I see him standing outside and about to come over, I look the other way or as what everyone does in these kind of 'not wanting to talk to you situations'...pretend I'm on my phone!

Enough about boys and my vanity at being 'admired' though. Tonight I'm off drinking. I met Lara and Christian yesterday and they were really cool. A couple of beers yesterday, and (hopefully) a few more tonight! Cerveza Cerveza Cerveza!

DAY 8: La Mierda

Being a Scot, it´s understandable I find the heat here difficult. That is why last night my stomach was tossing and turning for hours whilst I huddled over my toilet. How grim. I blame dehydration and my habit of drinking beer instead of water. However, it could also have been the ´tuna´empanadilla I had at lunch...tuna is meant to be red, right? I was so gutted as well. I had been invited out for drinks with some Erasmus people that night, MY FIRST FIESTA IN SPAIN!!! Instead, I lay in the fetal position in bed, watching a partiuclar home comfort of mine, The Great British Bake-Off. Moving on from that, I feel so much better today and I am even considering going out for drinks tonight - you can take the girl out of Scotland...

The past two days at work have been just a little bit better. I emailed a Madrileño from the office in London who I met this summer and asked her if she could "hook me up" with anyone in the office here. I met Laura, a lovely, younger, Spanish girl who said that she will show me around the city. It´s been with this that I´ve been thinking how important it is to push yourself in these situations. You need to ask people about things and express when you´re unhappy. Otherwise, like before, you could just end up sitting at a desk all day doing nada.

The boss still isn´t great though. However, I did get some slight satisfaction over her the other day. As I implied previously, she´s one of these people who is quite up on her high horse. As I went to the office loo and waited as the cubicles were all full, my boss then appeared out of one. Seeing me there waiting, an embarrassed expression spread across her face - that's right, she had done both a stinker and a floater! 1 - up- slaw. Don't look at me like shit babe if I have to look at yours. And oh, I waited until another cubicle was free...faeces makes me gag.

DAY 6: La economía

In the tough financial times that we've had over the recent years, some might ask why the Spanish economy is especially bad...I think I could give the explanation a fair go without going into too much detail about GDP and GNP and all that other stuff that I am meant to know from uni...

1. Everything in the workplace is done 'luego'. This means 'later'. You ask for something to be done and then ooh two days later they are working on it.
2. They all sleep in the afternoons - the typical Spanish 'siesta'. Does any work get done in this time? No. Instead, let's just have a beer over a massive lunch and then go to sleep for a couple of hours as working at 2pm is just too stressful.
3. The banks shut at 2.30pm. That means you have half an hour from the start of your siesta at 2pm to run to the bank before it closes. Does it reopen again? Very rarely. Can you go in your spare time at the weekend? Paha!
4. Work starts at 9am, but at 11am it's time for another breakfast. A good 45 minutes of work lost again.
5. Spanish women don't like English girls. Say you have a 20 year old English girl working as an unpaid intern for you, it is advisable to look at them with pity like an animal at the zoo. Teamwork - nah!
6. Spanish men like English girls. More time is spent looking at their breasts than looking at the computer screen.

Just an observation!

DAY 5: La Fashionista

Spanish exchanges who came to our school were always memorable for dressing poorly. They would arrive with their polo-necks, baggy jeans and rucksacks, whilst us girls, at the age of 14, would be wearing uggs, skinny jeans and a tighter-fitting top to highlight our then AA-cup breasts. I guess I assumed that the exchanges just hadn’t grown into what we saw as ‘fashion’, however, seeing the women in the office on my first day of work, I think maybe poor dress sense is a Spanish thing. Middle-aged women dressed in floral dresses that were all too short for their older bodies to pull off, combining that with make-up that looked like they hadn’t taken off since the 80’s. I arrived, business chic, being the ‘sexy businesswomen’ I had always wanted to be. There I was in my tight black pencil skirt, peplum top (highlighting my now D-cup breasts) and ‘office’ stilettos, looking more like I was going out for drinks than a day in the office. Maybe acceptable in London, but here, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

If I’m honest, my first day at work was crap. That’s the only way to put it. My boss, Raquel, looked at me like a piece of shit and told me to unpack her boxes into her new desk. As I stumbled around in my heels and tight skirt unloading these many crates, I thought to myself ‘Is this really a marketing internship? No’. So after my first day, I am referring to her as the ‘office bitch’, but hopefully this will change over time.

DAY 4: La Gordita Inglesa

How Spaniards stay so slim and yet eat so much baffles me. It’s fair to say that by the end of my trip here I will no doubt be “una gordita inglesa”, somehow a compliment in Spain, it actually means “fat little English girl”. At every bar or café that I’ve been to so far, they will give you any free food just to accompany your drink. I’m talking small things like olives, crisps and peanuts, to larger plates like the English favourite, cheesy chips. It’s hard to avoid all this as well. Every second shop is a café (which also all serve as beer houses at the same time). It doesn’t help either that the alcohol is so cheap – 1 euro for a pint and 6 euros for a jug of sangria. Known as a bit of a ‘heavy drinker’ in Newcastle, or more commonly just a ‘mess’ – I think I’ll be pretty happy here!

So I came to Madrid with my parents, which was really just the comfort I needed to settle in with, but, as you would imagine, parents can’t last long without having their embarrassing moments. Firstly, we have my dad, referring to ‘la cuenta’ (the bill) at every restaurant as ‘la CUNT-a’, purely because he finds it funny to say to the non-English speaking waiter. Dad, you’re in your fiftees. Then we have my mum, practising her Spanish at every given opportunity. Mum maintains she has acquired Portuguese language skills from our holidays there and likes to mix it up with her ‘o-level’ French. With these ‘skills’ she has, she says she can understand everything. Mum, I’ve been studying Spanish since I was 14, if I am getting a 2:2 in Spanish at university, I doubt your education in the French language from when you were 15 is going to make you a fluent Spanish speaker. Anyway, it has been nice having them here none-the-less!

With my parents here, of course we had to do the standard touristy and cultural things – this included two museums. I have never had an interest in any museum in any country, however, there were two particular paintings that stuck out. The first was in El Prado – a woman who naturally turned into a man at the age of 37 but still had one boob left so that she could breast-feed her child. It was disturbing to say the least. The second was from La Reina Sofía – don’t ask me who drew it or what it’s called because honestly it really doesn’t interest me – but, this guy had painted a self-portrait of himself dying in a car crash. In order for the painting to sell, he then killed himself…in a car crash…which subsequently would earn money for his family…bit drastic love.

Now I’m here on my own in my little studio apartment (which I love). Scared shitless but with Marlboro Lights selling for 3 euros a 20-pack to calm my nerves, 4 bolts on my apartment door to keep me from getting burgled and a trusty rape alarm I got when I was 13 that is meant to help when I am actually in the midst of getting raped... (really?)...I’m hoping I’ll be ok.