A white tiger: something extremely rare, but not altogether impossible to find. In a previous post, I mentioned that I was looking for an apartment in the city center, within walking distance to the University, with lots of natural sunlight and a balcony. And, I wanted it all for less than $500. Jesus must be reading my blog,…
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Tripe, Bidets and Nutella
Today is the big move, and I am most definitely ready to be in my own apartment. Yes, I actually did find an apartment and will not be a homeless. I’m very much so looking forward to living more comfortably, which means being able to identify my dinner, not shaving my legs in a sink and…
Read MoreEat The Damn Bread
I think I have eaten more carbs in these past two weeks than I have in the past year. And I am happier than I have ever been. Breakfast is always cereal with either toast, croissants or muffins. Lunch is a foot-long baguette. And not the Subway five dollar foot-longs that are actually like 11 inches. We’re talking…
Read MoreThe Spanish Host Family Experience
For the first two weeks of my study abroad program, everyone was placed with a host family. I live with a rather nice Spanish family in a small apartment in the northern part of the city. I share a room with another girl in my program, Kelly. My host mother is Montserrat, a sweet woman in…
Read MoreWild Horses Couldn’t Drag Me Away
Sometimes I like to think of my life as a movie, and therefore will proceed to describe today in the form of a screenplay. It’s basically Eat Pray Love, except in Barcelona and I am not a middle aged divorcée. I’ve never actually seen the movie, but I’m going to assume that the plot is…
Read MoreWhy I Deleted Snapchat and Why You Should Too
I was at a bar waiting for a friend to join, so naturally I opened up Snapchat to kill a few minutes. And suddenly, I had an epiphany. I give absolutely zero shits about your dog, how pretty your overpriced drink looks, that you’re about to “rage with your bitches” or that you just “worked-out” for an hour. And guess…
Read MoreWild Saturday Night in Barcelona
That title is a complete lie. It’s Saturday night and I should be celebrating my arrival to Barcelona by getting white-girl wasted on sangria, screaming “WOOO BARCELONA!” and making out with overly perfumed Spanish men. But honestly, I am so tired that if I went out and someone tried to speak to me, drunk me would probably…
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