b is for bocadillo

oh-la.

as you know, i am in barcelona. land of los lisps and las ramblas. i am trying to sort out my travel plans--no shortage of curve balls being thrown but i will always prevail. i am currently staying with new-friend-shannon (whom i know through a mutual friend in SF) but moving myself to a couchsurfer's BOAT today, where i will stay for the next night or two. sounds crazy, no? hey, this is what i do.

i have concluded that, for the time being, i'm going to omit photos from the blog because it has become a huge dolor en mi culo, if you know what i mean. photos are being hand-picked and posted to facebook. and if you are reading this and not yet on facebook, i'm not sure what you're waiting for. how has my dad not convinced you to join by now?

so neil and his BFF are coming to barcelona tomorrow to hang out and celebrate his bday so i plan to meet up with them for lunch and bebidas. i do enjoy some alone time, but most of my days have been solo missions all along as my hosts are typically working 9-5s or 10-8s or the like. (working? ugh, i forgot it is an obligation of real life that i will need to confront eventually/soon when my well dries up.) having some companionship during the sunlight will be a welcome change, if even if just for one day.

last weekend i got to hang with a few random connections from the states--patrick, erin, dimitra. it's odd but wonderful how many people happen to be here at the same time. i had fun trying to get erin (farm girl from illinois-turned-SFer) to eat varied canned fish products. i am cruel, but all in the name of "adventurousness", and she didn't fare so badly. i also pulled a major macguyver move trying to open a rectangular can of piquillo peppers that had no means of opening. the peppers tasted like sweet, smokey victory.

i have been walking like a maniac. (do maniacs walk or do they just roam, loaf, sway, wait to attack?) i have a metro pass but every time i am about to get on i think, i could just walk it, right? and then i do. it's so much better to see the route in front of you. when you're underground, you have no real sense of where you are and miss out on all the surroundings. down there all you get is hot air, stank, vagrants, and fluorescent lighting.

i am plotting an excursion to san sebastian. i hear the food is delectable, but pricey. what will i give up so that i can eat well? i am already lodging for free so what else is there? i don't smoke so i can't quit that. this is when a long list of vices would really come in handy. it's about a 6 hour train ride there and i seem to have aligned a couple couches/company for a few days. each place i come to, i fantasize about living. i wonder how the basque region will rank. how would i ever choose between all of these desirable spots on the map? it's like showing me filet mignon, a burger, and a carne asada burrito and telling me to choose.

when living in budget mode, most things need to be purchased with the currency of time and experience in place of money. it becomes a challenge to fill an entire day, to feel like i'm fully savoring and soaking the place and its life, but without leaving a trail of euros behind me. window shopping gets old after a while (i do buy things, but they're typically a few euro each--a trend which will be tapering off as the sale season allegedly shuts down until next year), and food and drink come with a high price if you go for the renowned places, the creme de la manchego. i have been buying many meals and snacks at supermarkets but i am tiring of different combinations of bread + meat + cheese. and i end up eating something every couple hours because so much about being in a foreign land are the new and exciting consumables, coupled with the fact that i have nothing else to do and nothing but time to kill. so much centers around food and bev, doesnt it? coffee and pastry, then talk about where to eat lunch, then have a gelato, then a drink, and then talk about where to have dinner. thank dios for spandex, right?

on that note, however, i am going to leave this cafe where i have planted my ass for what i now learn is three hours (!) and walk around, not spending, not eating, until i just can't hold it any longer.

and then i let loose.

too bad i can't nourish all the world's starving child with boxed red wine, because it's 50 cents at the store and i would feel so good about myself. drunk homeless babies--i think that's the answer to all our problems.

until the next time... b e s o s.