We had done a wee project translation thing on Las Fallas in Valencia at university last year and so I was really excited that I had booked tickets to go this weekend, even if it was just for 24 hours. Sophie, Mei and I hopped on the bus with the "tour group" who we had gone to Salamanca with and were buzzing for the oncoming antics. Jorge, the group later, the one that we all thought was very lovely looking in Salamanca, was there aannnd he remembered my name - what a cutie (girly scream). Unfortunately though, and just my luck, Mei had already got with him on one of the other trips to Cádiz during Carnaval a couple of weeks ago so he was firmly in her eyes only.
Anyway off we went, riding at the back of the bus (coz we all rebelious n shit) with a group of oh so annoying American boys. I mean seriously, they were those kind of people who thought they were THE shit, pumping their "g" beats loudly and bashing their beer bottles about. I might not have minded so much if they were British, as anti-American as that sounds, but their voices saying "this is fucking awesome bro" all the time was just bloody annoying. On top of that, they blatently thought they were hot, and no, they were not even average-looking, they were ugly. Anyway, I´ll stop my bitching. We stopped off halfway along the journey so that everyone could pee and I decided at this point I would get on board with the drinking and bought myself a beer. Sophie was like "ooh Sarah you´re such a lad" and I was like "I´ve been twiddling my hair listening to Cheryl Cole on my ipod for an hour...think that makes me very far from it".
We arrived in Valencia, late of course, and the choice of the group was to either do your own thing or carry on the bus to the beach. We went to the beach. Mei wipped off her clothes off into her bikini, much to Jorge´s satisfaction, and we sat there drinking and playing games until the early evening.
Feeling slightly pissed, we got on the bus back to the centre and felt that food was in order, and so where else did we go, but Subway. Not my first choice, I´m quite a sucker for sitting down in a nice restaurant whilst we sip on vino and eat leisurely, but Subway was fine and I had my first ever foot-long. The rest of the night mainly just entailed more alcohol consumption around the streets, plazas and gardens of Valencia, which by the way, seemed like a completely different city to two weeks ago. There were so many people there, every single one of those people was drunk and every single bar, club and restaurant was open, filling to the brims. There were even queues in the corner shops as everyone went in to buy their alcohol for the big "botellón" (the Spanish word for a drinking party on the street).
I met a lot of people on this trip, which I always like doing. First, we have Rachel from the West Country, lovely girl who I bonded with over going to the toilet together. (Us girls always like doing that for some reason). As we ran along from the bridge where we were watching the fireworks to the restaurant which we had decided was the "designated peeing area" the owner of the restaurant stopped us and told us we needed to buy a drink this time or otherwise we couldn´t use the toilet. We obliged and each bought a big glass of red wine, obviously not needed, and got into a deep drunken chat about love, heartbreak and boyfriends. We arrived back at the bridge half an hour later being like "I love this girl" whilst everyone wondered what on earth we had been doing in the toilet for so long. Another group of memorable people I met were the Mexican girls. They were so friendly and so funny and when I told them I was from Scotland they got way too excited. Turns out that they, all from Cancun, are going to Scotland for "spring break". Not going to lie, I´m slightly confused, a group of girls going to Scotland for a wild week of partying instead of their hometown which is probably the main hotspot for "spring break" in the world, but oh well each to their own. I just hope they understand that the trip might just not be as wild and that parties on the beach in their bikinis are likely to be much less fun along the Scottish coastline. Finally, there were the other two American boys, Jake and...Cooper..Wow Cooper was drunk and I took this opportunity to tell him that this Polish guy called Tom, who was with us that night, was my twin brother, I had had a baby when I was 13 and that I was married to a guy called Abdul who was back in Edinburgh looking after my child. Cooper belived all of this and I had the time of my life telling him.
Al in all, I have to say Las Fallas wasn´t what I expected. I wanted to go because it is a big festival in Spain and I wanted to see the big statues and bonfires around the town get set alight. I actually wanted, for a change, to be a bit more "cultural". However, all the trip was a straight 24 hours or so of drinking. Fun, but could have done it in Madrid to be honest. My voice is dying today and I am looking forward to this afternoon´s siesta.
Monday, 17 March 2014
Friday, 14 March 2014
DAY 166: Me duele el pie
I love Mabel. If she knew how much I went on about her, she would find it creepy, but I do. She is so cool. And being the wee babe that she is, she recommended her hairdresser to me who says they will do it cheaper for me just because I´m her "friend". Oh Mabel you wee babe. And I´m going to get my hair done like hers haha.
I don´t think she was too impressed with me yesterday though as I arrived into work 45 minutes late, still drunk from the night before. I´m guessing it was pretty obvious anyway. After going out for dinner with a few friends, Lucy, Andrew and I decided to go to a foam party at Pacha. Knowing before I went in that this wasn´t going to be a good idea and that I needed to remember to go home early, I ended up (of course) getting drunk and (of course) getting absolutely soaked in the foam. You could have gone swimming in that club it was so foamy, and it was so bloody dirty as well with everyone grinding on each other all wet. I had done my hair all nicely before I went out as well, all curled, which I never do, but of course I came out of the club (at 4.40am) looking like a drowned rat. Anyway, I don´t get how this happens, but I must just go into a serious deep sleep after drinking, but I (of course) missed all my alarms and woke up, luckily, at 8.50am - ten minutes before work! Now being in Spain and all, it is quite the norm for employees to arrive late, getting in for 9.30 am when you are meant to arrive at 9 always goes unnoticed. However, 9.45am, the time at which I arrived, was pushing it a little and Mabel give me a bit of a mean look. I was definitely still drunk as well, giggling away to myself and dropping things, and then the hangover hit me later on in the day, once I had left.
So I´ve fucked up my foot a little, all of you lucky enough to receive my snapchats will know this. It´s pussy and bloody on the top, with a massive blister on the bottom, and it is slightly sprained. And yes, this is all from Wednesday night. And no, I do not know how I did it. Anyway, I am literally hobbling along in pain at the moment and wore 3 socks today to work, making me foot look ever so fat. Don´t know how I´m going to cope tomorrow though as I´m off to Valencia again, and seeing as it´s a day trip, there will probably be a lot of walking.
But yes, Valencia tomorrow for "Las Fallas", a Spanish festival involving setting things alight, parades and dressing up. Just like we did in Salamanca, we are getting on the bus at 10am in Madrid and leaving Valencia at 4am Sunday morning. Sunday will be a sleep day.
I don´t think she was too impressed with me yesterday though as I arrived into work 45 minutes late, still drunk from the night before. I´m guessing it was pretty obvious anyway. After going out for dinner with a few friends, Lucy, Andrew and I decided to go to a foam party at Pacha. Knowing before I went in that this wasn´t going to be a good idea and that I needed to remember to go home early, I ended up (of course) getting drunk and (of course) getting absolutely soaked in the foam. You could have gone swimming in that club it was so foamy, and it was so bloody dirty as well with everyone grinding on each other all wet. I had done my hair all nicely before I went out as well, all curled, which I never do, but of course I came out of the club (at 4.40am) looking like a drowned rat. Anyway, I don´t get how this happens, but I must just go into a serious deep sleep after drinking, but I (of course) missed all my alarms and woke up, luckily, at 8.50am - ten minutes before work! Now being in Spain and all, it is quite the norm for employees to arrive late, getting in for 9.30 am when you are meant to arrive at 9 always goes unnoticed. However, 9.45am, the time at which I arrived, was pushing it a little and Mabel give me a bit of a mean look. I was definitely still drunk as well, giggling away to myself and dropping things, and then the hangover hit me later on in the day, once I had left.
So I´ve fucked up my foot a little, all of you lucky enough to receive my snapchats will know this. It´s pussy and bloody on the top, with a massive blister on the bottom, and it is slightly sprained. And yes, this is all from Wednesday night. And no, I do not know how I did it. Anyway, I am literally hobbling along in pain at the moment and wore 3 socks today to work, making me foot look ever so fat. Don´t know how I´m going to cope tomorrow though as I´m off to Valencia again, and seeing as it´s a day trip, there will probably be a lot of walking.
But yes, Valencia tomorrow for "Las Fallas", a Spanish festival involving setting things alight, parades and dressing up. Just like we did in Salamanca, we are getting on the bus at 10am in Madrid and leaving Valencia at 4am Sunday morning. Sunday will be a sleep day.
Sunday, 2 March 2014
DAY 155: Valencia
So after deciding to go on a very spontaneous holiday to Valencia for the weekend, we booked a car, booked a hostel and I faked tanned til my skin was orange - bring on the sun! I met Andrew and his flatmate, Margarida, along with two Greek people I didn't know and we headed to the car rental place, carrying bags of clothes, food and alcohol. On our way there we came across a traffic jam literally caused by a couple who had decided to stop in the middle of the road, put on their hazard lights and make out passionately in the front of the car, not even joking...they must be some seriously horny people.
As we started on our journey, Andrew wapped out this massive tank of mojito he had made along with plastic coffee cups with lids (sensible so that they don't spill in the car) and straws - perfection. We had probably passed about 15 minutes before I was on my third, much to the Greeks disbelief. You could see their faces wondering who these drunken Scottish people were. The car journey took a few hours, with me being the "dj" plugging in my ipod to the car, much to everyone's satisfaction I'm sure. Andrew and I got progressively more pissed as the others stayed sober and kept asking to stop the car so that we could both pee and smoke, such great people to travel with! We eventually arrived in Valencia at about 2am, where we had now missed check in and had to wait outside for someone to come and open up. Andrew and I were so desperate to go out at this point that we considered just changing and sleeping in the car, but then the fitty hostel man (who we couldn't work out how he was fit - he was bald) arrived and all was dandy. The Greeks and Magarida weren't too keen on going out, so Andrew and I abandoned them and hailed a cab of the main road. We just asked him to take us to a good and popular club and he was very wise with his selection as it was freaking awesome.
Part of the club was open air and then inside was all white with fit girls in sequined swimsuits dancing on podiums. We danced away, picking up masks as we went (it's the weekend of the Brazilian festival Carnaval) and drank more and more until the early hours, with perhaps a tactical chunder in between. Leaving the club at 6.30am, we unsuccessfully tried to google map our hostel and ended up walking for a good hour (although I must admit that part of that journey I was actually getting Andrew to push in me a shopping trolley we had found on the street). We got home at 8am, when it was already daylight, and crashed until about 12pm, trying not to wake the others up.
So of course the next morning (or afternoon, whatever) Andrew and I were in desperate need of food, so after watching the Carnaval fireworks in the main square, all of us went for a big lunch of paella and just a splash of beer. It was pretty evident to Andrew and me though that the Greeks were more interested in doing the cultural stuff, whilst Andrew and I just wanted to die. So we went our separate ways for a few hours, doing a bit of walking, a bit of mask shopping and ending up of course in an Irish pub. The beer there was rancid, but determined to get drunk again, we forced ourselves with a couple of pints, before finding ourselves sleepy and needing to go back to the hostel for a siesta. I didn't actually sleep, which was a bit shitty as later in the night I just could not hack anything. My belly was bloated and we were literally walking round the bars in Valencia with masks on and what I felt like a pregnant stomach. We did meet up with the Greeks and Margarida at this point, but it was clear by now that our conversations just didn't "flow". As we all arrived back at the hostel the Greeks were going on about this ancient Roman town they wanted to see as we left Valencia. Obviously, being the uncultural messes we are, Andrew and I were not pleased with this, so we suggested they got up at about 9 and went and did it and then we would all go the beach at lunchtime before our long journey back to Madrid. They agreed to this...
Well....the next morning we woke up at 10am and everyone was still in bed. Check out was at 11am and the Greeks (like they had been all weekend) were so slow at getting themselves out. As we eventually got into the car, Theo, the guy, said he would google map the beach, we didn't have time now to go to the Roman town - thank God. Well, the sly little fucker that he was gooogle mapped the Roman town instead of the beach and so took us the wrong way. How cheeky. We were passing a sign at a roundabout for the beach when Margarida said "Theo are sure it's not that way?" At this point Theo said, "See I would quite like to go to the Roman town so thats where I've been giving directions to." I was not impressed. I could feel my inner bitch coming out. "We agreed we would all go to the beach though because of the time" I said, and you could see Theo's face just bubbling with anger. I would not back down though, I was being a right dick to him and I didn't even care - it was sunny, I was tired and hangover and I never get to go to the beach. "But is there something special at the beach?" Antonia, the Greek girl asked and I was just like, err don't get all cultural and intelligent with me missy...(I didn't actually say that.) ANYWAY, what happened was we split up, the Greeks went to the Roman thing and the three of us went to the beach and it was sooo much fun and so nice and hot. We then pied out on tapas and ice cream, chilled in the sunshine and then headed back to meet them (and they were late - of course).
The journey home was dull, and after just 15 minutes of my music (even though I refrained from playing One Direction and Cheryl Cole) Theo abruptly asked if we could switch to his ipod. Eurgh. Now judging on appearances I was pretty sure we would be listening to some sort of heavy rock, Theo is long haired and pierced, he then proceeded to play song after song of Greek Eurovision songs! Wtf. Come on, a bit of Miley Cyrus and Will.i.am is better than that shit, no? He was bopping away and so was Antonia, so Andrew and I bitchyly put in our headphones. The journey ended with Margarida's music.
Anyway all in all it was a fantastic weekend. I now feel dead and disgusting and have some how hurt my leg and I think I have broken my toe. Oops!
As we started on our journey, Andrew wapped out this massive tank of mojito he had made along with plastic coffee cups with lids (sensible so that they don't spill in the car) and straws - perfection. We had probably passed about 15 minutes before I was on my third, much to the Greeks disbelief. You could see their faces wondering who these drunken Scottish people were. The car journey took a few hours, with me being the "dj" plugging in my ipod to the car, much to everyone's satisfaction I'm sure. Andrew and I got progressively more pissed as the others stayed sober and kept asking to stop the car so that we could both pee and smoke, such great people to travel with! We eventually arrived in Valencia at about 2am, where we had now missed check in and had to wait outside for someone to come and open up. Andrew and I were so desperate to go out at this point that we considered just changing and sleeping in the car, but then the fitty hostel man (who we couldn't work out how he was fit - he was bald) arrived and all was dandy. The Greeks and Magarida weren't too keen on going out, so Andrew and I abandoned them and hailed a cab of the main road. We just asked him to take us to a good and popular club and he was very wise with his selection as it was freaking awesome.
Part of the club was open air and then inside was all white with fit girls in sequined swimsuits dancing on podiums. We danced away, picking up masks as we went (it's the weekend of the Brazilian festival Carnaval) and drank more and more until the early hours, with perhaps a tactical chunder in between. Leaving the club at 6.30am, we unsuccessfully tried to google map our hostel and ended up walking for a good hour (although I must admit that part of that journey I was actually getting Andrew to push in me a shopping trolley we had found on the street). We got home at 8am, when it was already daylight, and crashed until about 12pm, trying not to wake the others up.
So of course the next morning (or afternoon, whatever) Andrew and I were in desperate need of food, so after watching the Carnaval fireworks in the main square, all of us went for a big lunch of paella and just a splash of beer. It was pretty evident to Andrew and me though that the Greeks were more interested in doing the cultural stuff, whilst Andrew and I just wanted to die. So we went our separate ways for a few hours, doing a bit of walking, a bit of mask shopping and ending up of course in an Irish pub. The beer there was rancid, but determined to get drunk again, we forced ourselves with a couple of pints, before finding ourselves sleepy and needing to go back to the hostel for a siesta. I didn't actually sleep, which was a bit shitty as later in the night I just could not hack anything. My belly was bloated and we were literally walking round the bars in Valencia with masks on and what I felt like a pregnant stomach. We did meet up with the Greeks and Margarida at this point, but it was clear by now that our conversations just didn't "flow". As we all arrived back at the hostel the Greeks were going on about this ancient Roman town they wanted to see as we left Valencia. Obviously, being the uncultural messes we are, Andrew and I were not pleased with this, so we suggested they got up at about 9 and went and did it and then we would all go the beach at lunchtime before our long journey back to Madrid. They agreed to this...
Well....the next morning we woke up at 10am and everyone was still in bed. Check out was at 11am and the Greeks (like they had been all weekend) were so slow at getting themselves out. As we eventually got into the car, Theo, the guy, said he would google map the beach, we didn't have time now to go to the Roman town - thank God. Well, the sly little fucker that he was gooogle mapped the Roman town instead of the beach and so took us the wrong way. How cheeky. We were passing a sign at a roundabout for the beach when Margarida said "Theo are sure it's not that way?" At this point Theo said, "See I would quite like to go to the Roman town so thats where I've been giving directions to." I was not impressed. I could feel my inner bitch coming out. "We agreed we would all go to the beach though because of the time" I said, and you could see Theo's face just bubbling with anger. I would not back down though, I was being a right dick to him and I didn't even care - it was sunny, I was tired and hangover and I never get to go to the beach. "But is there something special at the beach?" Antonia, the Greek girl asked and I was just like, err don't get all cultural and intelligent with me missy...(I didn't actually say that.) ANYWAY, what happened was we split up, the Greeks went to the Roman thing and the three of us went to the beach and it was sooo much fun and so nice and hot. We then pied out on tapas and ice cream, chilled in the sunshine and then headed back to meet them (and they were late - of course).
The journey home was dull, and after just 15 minutes of my music (even though I refrained from playing One Direction and Cheryl Cole) Theo abruptly asked if we could switch to his ipod. Eurgh. Now judging on appearances I was pretty sure we would be listening to some sort of heavy rock, Theo is long haired and pierced, he then proceeded to play song after song of Greek Eurovision songs! Wtf. Come on, a bit of Miley Cyrus and Will.i.am is better than that shit, no? He was bopping away and so was Antonia, so Andrew and I bitchyly put in our headphones. The journey ended with Margarida's music.
Anyway all in all it was a fantastic weekend. I now feel dead and disgusting and have some how hurt my leg and I think I have broken my toe. Oops!
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
DAY 151: El Finde
The weekend back home was awesome. I ate so much of Judith´s lovely home-cooked food, cuddled with dog, caught up with a couple of my friends and did A LOT of shopping.
Thursday Night - Arrive in Edinburgh (after a horrendously slow boarding of the plane a la Spain) and get picked up by Mum. At home we proceed to drink a bottle of red wine and feast ourselves with food. So was not much different to my lifestyle in Spain.
Friday - Shopping. Again, something I´m quite keen on in España, the difference being this time that mumma is with me, aka...I wasn´t funding the expenses. Bought way too much stuff, and mostly all summer clothes, so the weather better pick up in Madrid soon! The rest of the day was filled with more eating (bread and Camembert - so again not really taking a break from the food in Spain) and Mum getting me to test a bed from one room to the other to see if "noises" can be heard. Yes, she wanted me to roll around and jump up and down to assess the slyness of having sex in it - don´t ask - all I can say is, it´s for particular guests that are coming, not for her and my father thank god.
Saturday - A cheeky morning virgin cocktail with a friend (so so Chelsea) in Cent O Tre on George Street with a lot of chat about how things are, facebook stalking and gossip. A big lunch then of lasagne and cheese to follow with some family friends. Saturday night was a chilled one with the padres and I had almost forgotten how amusing (and sometimes irritating) it can be to watch tv with my father. As we watched "Take Me Out" Dad decided to rate each girl. "Paha no one´s going to pick that whale Clarissa" and when she did get picked "I don´t get it. I don´t get it." Such a charming father.
Sunday - A glorious roast for lunch - yes I´m obese ok - and then back to Madrid. Was pretty sad coming back actually and arriving back at my wee apartment all alone made me feel lonely...but I´ve already been back on the vino socialising again so things are back to normal (although work this morning isn´t too dandy).
I have a uni essay to write (in Spanish fml), a lot of laundry to do, a stack of dishes to wash and it´s still fucking raining, but apart from that, I will be doing more eating, more drinking, more "working" and my life in Madrid rolls on...
Thursday Night - Arrive in Edinburgh (after a horrendously slow boarding of the plane a la Spain) and get picked up by Mum. At home we proceed to drink a bottle of red wine and feast ourselves with food. So was not much different to my lifestyle in Spain.
Friday - Shopping. Again, something I´m quite keen on in España, the difference being this time that mumma is with me, aka...I wasn´t funding the expenses. Bought way too much stuff, and mostly all summer clothes, so the weather better pick up in Madrid soon! The rest of the day was filled with more eating (bread and Camembert - so again not really taking a break from the food in Spain) and Mum getting me to test a bed from one room to the other to see if "noises" can be heard. Yes, she wanted me to roll around and jump up and down to assess the slyness of having sex in it - don´t ask - all I can say is, it´s for particular guests that are coming, not for her and my father thank god.
Saturday - A cheeky morning virgin cocktail with a friend (so so Chelsea) in Cent O Tre on George Street with a lot of chat about how things are, facebook stalking and gossip. A big lunch then of lasagne and cheese to follow with some family friends. Saturday night was a chilled one with the padres and I had almost forgotten how amusing (and sometimes irritating) it can be to watch tv with my father. As we watched "Take Me Out" Dad decided to rate each girl. "Paha no one´s going to pick that whale Clarissa" and when she did get picked "I don´t get it. I don´t get it." Such a charming father.
Sunday - A glorious roast for lunch - yes I´m obese ok - and then back to Madrid. Was pretty sad coming back actually and arriving back at my wee apartment all alone made me feel lonely...but I´ve already been back on the vino socialising again so things are back to normal (although work this morning isn´t too dandy).
I have a uni essay to write (in Spanish fml), a lot of laundry to do, a stack of dishes to wash and it´s still fucking raining, but apart from that, I will be doing more eating, more drinking, more "working" and my life in Madrid rolls on...
Thursday, 20 February 2014
DAY 145: Estoy harta de España
Yesterday I was helping out at an event for people who claimed they had "too much money". Our business was to advise them on what they could invest their money in or spend their money on. As I arrived at 7.30am at the office, there to help out with the setting up as per usual, Mabel came up to me and said "So Sarah, do you have a boyfriend? There´s a lot of good looking rich men coming and you know, you could do well here". Bingo Mabel - you wise wise owl. Luckily, as it was an event, I was dressed smartly and had tried making an effort with some sexy (yet murderous) red heeled boots to top it off. These boots seemed a bit of a stupid idea later on in the day, as I ended up with blisters after walking to and from to and from to and from the meeting room with clients. Anyway, to my disappointment, all these men were really a bit too old for me....and married, so my dreams of being spoilt rotten with Michael Kors, fancy restaurants and romantic getaways went out the window.
Apart from that, work has been pretty shit lately and I´m not enjoying myself as much as I was previously. I´m working with this girl Marta, who is lovely and all, don´t get me wrong, but she really is not the most interesting/logical/organised person to work with. My days are filled with checking bloody excel sheets against databases to make sure that all details of clients are correct and honestly, after doing about 2, I´m checking Facebook as a way to "interest" my life. It´s a shame because I liked Marta before, I´ve been out with her and she was very welcoming, but working with her is a whole different matter. This is why maybe its good not to "mix business with pleasure" - my social life and my life at work are two different stories.
I´ve also been ranting recently about Spain in general and how backwards I think the whole country is. Horrific timetables of businesses prove inefficient; the service industry cannot even compete with that of the UK (which only in comparison I have now noticed is much superior); men are sexist; and women are far from equal both socially and in the working world. There are a lot of other things that spring to mind, but I´ll save that for another day...
Living alone can be quite hard too. Yes, most of the time I like it, I can do what I want, have my own space, not care about washing up etc etc etc, but it does get lonely. It´s probably not the best idea that I spend my "lonely" time streaming episodes of 90210 instead of doing anything sociable or productive, but sometimes after work, I just get so tired (and fed up) that my wee bit of "relaxing time" turns into hours of tv, sleeping and eating. There´s a reason why I am getting so fat here! And socialising here, from my experience, consists mainly of drinking beer and nibbling on the free food they give you with it. Not that I´m complaining, I love my beer, but my belly really doesn´t and my professors back at uni most certainly wouldn´t either...
Anyway, fed up of all this, I have decided to go home this weekend, take a break from Spain and spend some time with the fam (and my dog...). Of course Mabel was fine with letting me off yet another day to go home early (she really is the most chillaxed boss) and my mum has been asking what I want in the fridge for when I get home (ahh Mummy you treat me well). Djibril (my dog) will be awaiting, and my Harry Styles cardboard cut-out from my 21st will be standing there beautifully. I´ll have the car and not be afraid to use it because of crazy Spanish drivers and my tv will be just a little bit bigger ;)..the only thing lacking is the beautiful Spanish sun - but I´ll be back in front of that next week (to "top up" my (very very fake) tan)!
Apart from that, work has been pretty shit lately and I´m not enjoying myself as much as I was previously. I´m working with this girl Marta, who is lovely and all, don´t get me wrong, but she really is not the most interesting/logical/organised person to work with. My days are filled with checking bloody excel sheets against databases to make sure that all details of clients are correct and honestly, after doing about 2, I´m checking Facebook as a way to "interest" my life. It´s a shame because I liked Marta before, I´ve been out with her and she was very welcoming, but working with her is a whole different matter. This is why maybe its good not to "mix business with pleasure" - my social life and my life at work are two different stories.
I´ve also been ranting recently about Spain in general and how backwards I think the whole country is. Horrific timetables of businesses prove inefficient; the service industry cannot even compete with that of the UK (which only in comparison I have now noticed is much superior); men are sexist; and women are far from equal both socially and in the working world. There are a lot of other things that spring to mind, but I´ll save that for another day...
Living alone can be quite hard too. Yes, most of the time I like it, I can do what I want, have my own space, not care about washing up etc etc etc, but it does get lonely. It´s probably not the best idea that I spend my "lonely" time streaming episodes of 90210 instead of doing anything sociable or productive, but sometimes after work, I just get so tired (and fed up) that my wee bit of "relaxing time" turns into hours of tv, sleeping and eating. There´s a reason why I am getting so fat here! And socialising here, from my experience, consists mainly of drinking beer and nibbling on the free food they give you with it. Not that I´m complaining, I love my beer, but my belly really doesn´t and my professors back at uni most certainly wouldn´t either...
Anyway, fed up of all this, I have decided to go home this weekend, take a break from Spain and spend some time with the fam (and my dog...). Of course Mabel was fine with letting me off yet another day to go home early (she really is the most chillaxed boss) and my mum has been asking what I want in the fridge for when I get home (ahh Mummy you treat me well). Djibril (my dog) will be awaiting, and my Harry Styles cardboard cut-out from my 21st will be standing there beautifully. I´ll have the car and not be afraid to use it because of crazy Spanish drivers and my tv will be just a little bit bigger ;)..the only thing lacking is the beautiful Spanish sun - but I´ll be back in front of that next week (to "top up" my (very very fake) tan)!
Friday, 14 February 2014
DAY 139: Pedro
I had started to think that beautiful Pedro from when I first came to Madrid had forgotten me! I saw him when I first came and since then hardly ever. However, today as I was working on some boring excel with my ears completely blocked by blasting music from my headphones, Pedro appeared, beautiful beautiful Pedro, and naturally, I went all red. Either it´s the fact that he is just so handsome or my difficulty in understanding sexy Spanish accent, but literally my mind always fails me when I speak to him and he now thinks I´m a retard who still can´t speak Spanish after 5 months here. Anyway, being all charming (it is Valentine´s day after all ;) ), he invited me for dinner with him and his family. How lovely and very kind, but also, how awkward....let´s just say..things with his nephew, Alvaro, the fittie Hollister model from a while ago, did not end so well....*cough* asshole *cough*. After Pedro left, you could see all the other girls giggling and smiling and then they all came up to me and asked "who is that Sarah?"...yes beautiful, beautiful Pedro is still well and truly "smokin hawt".
So I did something I hadn´t done in a while yesterday...I slept in through work! I thought those days were past me now that I am a mature 21-year-old, but sadly no. I knew I shouldn´t have been going out on Wednesday night in the first place but it was Sanderson´s friend´s last night in Madrid so something had to take place. Fair to say, the night did not end up so smoothly though....my neighbour now literally hates me and was buzzing on my door all day yesterday (of which I never answered because I´m too scared), I got into an argument, got punched, failed to make it to the club, got a taxi home which I couldn´t pay for and called my friend back home crying my eyes out...total mess. It´s times like that I just think, wow I´m an idiot, and that it really is time to cut back on the alcohol consumption. Saying that, I am going out tonight BUT I aim to just drink some beers...(come on, not not going to drink at all..).
So apart from a cheeky wee day off yesterday work has been pretty dire this week. My life is filled with boring databases and excels at the moment and the highlight this week, as always, has been getting the left over food from events - fat pig here. I´ve tried to be healthy, I really have, and I managed it up until Wednesday, but when Thursday came and that hangover was bangin, salad just wasn´t going to suffice.
Thank God it´s Friday though, and I plan on being a little more chillaxed this weekend. Also I´ve been thinking about the fact that if I hadn´t extended my job until June, this would be my last day, which just seems crazy. I don´t want to leave - I love it here! Viva Madrid.
So I did something I hadn´t done in a while yesterday...I slept in through work! I thought those days were past me now that I am a mature 21-year-old, but sadly no. I knew I shouldn´t have been going out on Wednesday night in the first place but it was Sanderson´s friend´s last night in Madrid so something had to take place. Fair to say, the night did not end up so smoothly though....my neighbour now literally hates me and was buzzing on my door all day yesterday (of which I never answered because I´m too scared), I got into an argument, got punched, failed to make it to the club, got a taxi home which I couldn´t pay for and called my friend back home crying my eyes out...total mess. It´s times like that I just think, wow I´m an idiot, and that it really is time to cut back on the alcohol consumption. Saying that, I am going out tonight BUT I aim to just drink some beers...(come on, not not going to drink at all..).
So apart from a cheeky wee day off yesterday work has been pretty dire this week. My life is filled with boring databases and excels at the moment and the highlight this week, as always, has been getting the left over food from events - fat pig here. I´ve tried to be healthy, I really have, and I managed it up until Wednesday, but when Thursday came and that hangover was bangin, salad just wasn´t going to suffice.
Thank God it´s Friday though, and I plan on being a little more chillaxed this weekend. Also I´ve been thinking about the fact that if I hadn´t extended my job until June, this would be my last day, which just seems crazy. I don´t want to leave - I love it here! Viva Madrid.
Monday, 10 February 2014
DAY 135: Sanderson
Well after a horrendous week at work of office fuck-ups, people I wanted to slap and some mind-numbingly boring tasks, I was so so so ready for Friday. I met Rosie after work in Starbucks where she was waiting after her flight had come in and we went for a big fatty pizza lunch and it was gorgeous. We also indulged in a bottle of wine which lead to a very sleepy Sarah who had a siesta in the afternoon, waking up with a massive cock drawn on my face by Rosie 2 hours later - great.
That night, it was time to celebrate Sanderson´s birthday and I had offered to have the party in my flat seeing as Sanderson lives way out in Alcala. It was good and very loud, and luckily the neighbours didn´t complain this time! There were 3 neck nominations, one of which was me drinking whisky and vodka through a straw whilst doing a handstand...fair to say, it did not end very smoothly. Anyway, we left at about 1am in order to get the last metro into town but by 2 metro stops down, it was fair to say that Sanderson just wasn´t going to make it out. As we all carried her out of the metro and into the street, causing a lot of attention from the locals who looked at us British folk with disgust, Sanderson proceeded to chunder and we all knew that really she wasn´t going to make it into the club. So, off Rosie, Emma and I left, leaving the others behind, to take Sanderson back to mine. As we reached mine, Sanderson had completely gone by this point and the taxi driver had to help us carry her up to my apartment. I have to say, it did feel a little bit like we were carrying a dead body. At mine, I threw glasses of water over her to wake her up (and to half amuse me) at which she woke up and replied "stop chundering on me"...oh Sanderson. Anyway, she got to bed, slept it off and Rosie and I got pizza and danced around to One Direction for a couple of hours....taking the party with of us of course (even if it was One Direction..).
Sanderson wasn´t even hungover in the morning, much to Rosie and I´s disappointment who were feeling the effects of last night´s pre. Anyway, we did get ourselves up though to do something "cultural" as last time Rosie was here, we missed that part out. Of course first we decided to have a nice lunch though and surprised ourselves greatly by ordering a salad....this never happens on a hangover. I then attempted to take Rosie on a tour of Madrid, telling her that a cathedral was the Royal Palace and that a mosque was a cathedral and so on....god, I´m great at this stuff. We ended up at Madrid´s Egyptian temple "El Templo de Debod", which really isn´t as facinating as it sounds. All it is is like 3 small walls with a wee moat around it. But you know, at least we were doing something. Soon it was time to head back to the flat for yet another siesta, which turned into a good 4 hour sleep. We needed it though, as we were determined to have a proper night out this time.
We went to this club called Joy, which is an old theatre and looks really cool. It played all the classic songs you could sing a long to and we found this amazing man who had some incredible dance moves...oh he was hilarious. We even got on the stage with him at one point just because we thought he was so cool. Surprisingly though, Rosie and I did not feel the slightest bit drunk. We had had 3 gin and tonics in the space of an hour before we left, 2 strong vodka red bulls when we first came to the club, and then a jaegar and another strong gin and tonic later on. We just did not understand why it wasn´t hitting us. Sanderson was being very sensible this night and sipped on one gin and tonic for about 4 hours.
Waking up the next morning, we didn´t feel ill but just exhausted and proceeded to spend the entire day in bed watching episodes and episodes of 90120 on Netflix...shit show but addicting. There was a small trip out to lunch but it didn´t last long and we were quickly back in bed after being practically blown away by the strong wind and drenched by the rain. Seriously, the weather at the moment in Madrid is horrendous. Should probably just move back to Scotland where it likely to be nicer.
So I´ve probably gained about 2 stone this weekend as we have literally eaten so much pizza, ice-cream, sweets and cheetos....(the guy at the corner shop must have thought we were weird with the amount of cheetos we kept going in to buy..but they are just sooo goooood). Attempting to detox a bit this week, but knowing me it will probably only last a day. I really am an unstoppable fatty.
Hate Mondays and I am exhausted, but hopefully work this week is just a tad better...if not, could be getting into trouble for wacking someone in the face...really need to stay reserved.
That night, it was time to celebrate Sanderson´s birthday and I had offered to have the party in my flat seeing as Sanderson lives way out in Alcala. It was good and very loud, and luckily the neighbours didn´t complain this time! There were 3 neck nominations, one of which was me drinking whisky and vodka through a straw whilst doing a handstand...fair to say, it did not end very smoothly. Anyway, we left at about 1am in order to get the last metro into town but by 2 metro stops down, it was fair to say that Sanderson just wasn´t going to make it out. As we all carried her out of the metro and into the street, causing a lot of attention from the locals who looked at us British folk with disgust, Sanderson proceeded to chunder and we all knew that really she wasn´t going to make it into the club. So, off Rosie, Emma and I left, leaving the others behind, to take Sanderson back to mine. As we reached mine, Sanderson had completely gone by this point and the taxi driver had to help us carry her up to my apartment. I have to say, it did feel a little bit like we were carrying a dead body. At mine, I threw glasses of water over her to wake her up (and to half amuse me) at which she woke up and replied "stop chundering on me"...oh Sanderson. Anyway, she got to bed, slept it off and Rosie and I got pizza and danced around to One Direction for a couple of hours....taking the party with of us of course (even if it was One Direction..).
Sanderson wasn´t even hungover in the morning, much to Rosie and I´s disappointment who were feeling the effects of last night´s pre. Anyway, we did get ourselves up though to do something "cultural" as last time Rosie was here, we missed that part out. Of course first we decided to have a nice lunch though and surprised ourselves greatly by ordering a salad....this never happens on a hangover. I then attempted to take Rosie on a tour of Madrid, telling her that a cathedral was the Royal Palace and that a mosque was a cathedral and so on....god, I´m great at this stuff. We ended up at Madrid´s Egyptian temple "El Templo de Debod", which really isn´t as facinating as it sounds. All it is is like 3 small walls with a wee moat around it. But you know, at least we were doing something. Soon it was time to head back to the flat for yet another siesta, which turned into a good 4 hour sleep. We needed it though, as we were determined to have a proper night out this time.
We went to this club called Joy, which is an old theatre and looks really cool. It played all the classic songs you could sing a long to and we found this amazing man who had some incredible dance moves...oh he was hilarious. We even got on the stage with him at one point just because we thought he was so cool. Surprisingly though, Rosie and I did not feel the slightest bit drunk. We had had 3 gin and tonics in the space of an hour before we left, 2 strong vodka red bulls when we first came to the club, and then a jaegar and another strong gin and tonic later on. We just did not understand why it wasn´t hitting us. Sanderson was being very sensible this night and sipped on one gin and tonic for about 4 hours.
Waking up the next morning, we didn´t feel ill but just exhausted and proceeded to spend the entire day in bed watching episodes and episodes of 90120 on Netflix...shit show but addicting. There was a small trip out to lunch but it didn´t last long and we were quickly back in bed after being practically blown away by the strong wind and drenched by the rain. Seriously, the weather at the moment in Madrid is horrendous. Should probably just move back to Scotland where it likely to be nicer.
So I´ve probably gained about 2 stone this weekend as we have literally eaten so much pizza, ice-cream, sweets and cheetos....(the guy at the corner shop must have thought we were weird with the amount of cheetos we kept going in to buy..but they are just sooo goooood). Attempting to detox a bit this week, but knowing me it will probably only last a day. I really am an unstoppable fatty.
Hate Mondays and I am exhausted, but hopefully work this week is just a tad better...if not, could be getting into trouble for wacking someone in the face...really need to stay reserved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)