Closing of a Chapter: The Final Farewell

Hello friends and family!

I recently have been terrible about updating my blog. I believe the last post was on January 7. Of course, much has happened since then but, at this moment, I don't feel like writing about it because there is something far more important I want to write about. Probably the biggest news I have to relay to you all is that I am coming home this Sunday, March 16. This means I have a mere two days more or less left in Vitoria, which to me is heartbreaking. I have in a sense established myself and the memories I now have will be irreplaceable, along with the friends I have made here. The lessons and experiences I gained opened my mind to a whole new world-- where being alone is okay; sometimes bad things happen and you must recover quickly; things never really go as planned; you have to deal with crappy people wherever you go; [some] men are pigs (my 11th grade history teacher was right about that); timing is everything; but most importantly I learned to make the most out of every single moment you have because time flies and the experiences that you make right now will only be fragmented memories of your future. So I sit here these last few days in Vitoria with my friends who I certainly will never forget and I'm holding on for dear life to these final memories we will make and cementing them in my mind, hoping that one day, I will be lucky enough to be with them again.

I fell in love with a culture.
I fell in love with a city.
I fell in love with my friends.
And I fell in love.

I've begun reflecting on the last 9 1/2 months, becoming increasingly more nostalgic and altogether more grateful for my experience in Vitoria. This is largely in part due to my small but stable group of friends I made here. I remember when I first got to Spain, I was extremely nervous, and basically regretting taking a gap year. I was jealous that my friends got to start university (yeah, I say university now, not college, because I'm basically an honorary European). At first I didn't really have any friends, and presumably so. Making friends is a process. I did make one friend who I will always remember despite our short amount of time we spent together, Catherine. And for that time we spent together, I didn't feel so alone. Let me just take a moment to say, Catherine (if you're reading this), thank you for making me go to Valencia, I will honestly NEVER EVER forget that trip--eating really cheap pizza every night, and buying 2 euro Sangria to get the night started. And of course, it lead me to someone else who I was incredibly grateful to meet (more on you later if you are also reading this. Don't think you're getting out of this scot free, Elliot!).

After my trip to Valencia, I made my way to Vitoria, again, not having a clue who I would meet, or what the rest of my journey would have in store. To put it simply, looking back at where I thought I was going to be in March at the beginning, compared to where I am now.... it is NOTHING like I expected. A couple weeks ago, I was crying to my friends Melanie, Nika and Steve because I did not get into UF. Yes, okay personal information I just posted for everyone to read. Anyway, Melanie squatted down next to me and told me "nothing ever works out the way you think it will, but everything happens for a reason. You could have been any other place in Spain, and you came to Vitoria. You could have been with someone else, but you met Steve. You could have made other friends, but you met us. Everything happens for a reason." You know, it's the cliche things that hold the most truth.

When looking for another family to go to after the one in Barcelona, I could have stayed in Barcelona, there were plenty of other families needing an au pair, but I chose Vitoria-Gasteiz. And those first few weeks here were brutal. I thought for sure I made a mistake. I thought that until I met Melanie. And then through her I met Sophie. We were the best trio if I ever did see one. They were there for me when I quit being an au pair, and helped me in any way they could (wine/kalimotxo was their primary solution).

I think when one is out of their element and culture bubble for an extended period of time, they are drawn to those in similar situations and they feed off of it to feel that acceptance like they did back home. But the difference about these friends (friends back home take no offense to this. I'm sure you are experiencing the same bonds, too.) is that I wasn't exactly forced to hang out with them. Back home, my group of friends and I had been friends since we were 11, some even longer. You're just kind of with these people growing up, and that's that. When I stepped outside of that bubble, I realized, I don't have to feel obligated to act a certain way to fit in with my friends or with how everyone else thinks I should act. It took me my whole life up until now to realize that. So to my friends I have met in my travels, thank you for accepting my presence in all my weird, loud laughing and sometimes stoic glory.

After being in Vitoria for about a month, I ventured off to Brussels, Belgium (told you'd I'd come back to you Elliot), some of you may recall this, probably because of my sheer excitement I had for this trip. My friends back home probably got bothered by me during that time, because it was literally the only thing I could talk about. There was no "playing it cool." I didn't necessarily address this when I wrote about being in Valencia, because I thought that would be creepy and over-the-top. But hey, I'm going back home in two days. It's about leaving it all out on the table at this point, right? So here we go...

[Clears throat] Most romantic, cheesy, unbelievable, outrageous experience to happen to me still to this day. When Catherine and I were out, there happened to be a certain someone who caught my eye, but it appeared he was leaving and I was sad, but life goes on. To my dismay, maybe 10 minutes later, this same guy interrupted the conversation I was having with someone. I can't remember it verbatim, but it was something to the effect of "Uh.. Excuse me, but I'm sorry, I have to steal her away from you." Obviously I was really flattered, and secretly clicking my heels and screaming in my head. But we hit it off. Like really hit it off. We ended up talking to each other from about two to six in the morning on a bench in Valencia. And as the sun was rising, we walked to the old city center, that if you scroll down the page a bit to the Valencia blog, there is a fountain in the middle of it. Well, if I recall correctly, as the sun was rising over the buildings, Elliot picked me up and swung me in circles and (brace yourselves) kissed me. From that point on we kept in touch, I went to visit him in Brussels, had a wonderful time and that was that. We still talk. But I'm convinced that Valencia will forever remain a strong memory. So Elliot, really, I'm so thankful to have had the chance to meet you.  And maybe you're right, maybe our paths will cross again in the future.

Everything happens for a reason. Timing is everything.

Right before Sophie's departure back to Denmark, I was introduced to someone else who has deeply impacted me, and I can't even explain in words how lucky I am to have met him. Most of you have probably seen some pictures of me and Steve on Facebook, and really a lot of those pictures have summed up my time with him. Plain and simple: he is wonderful, and leaving him will be one of the hardest parts about leaving Vitoria. It's hard for me to even explain just exactly how I feel for this guy. He's one of a kind. And he has brought so much joy to me (and occasionally anger) since I have been with him. Sometimes, I would wish to myself that I wouldn't have met him because it in turn would make my departure so much easier. Then I realize, that would be robbing myself of one more experience that I will never, ever forget. I'm going to miss his kisses, his cooking skills, his arms around me, and his friendship much more than I could even convey in words.

By traveling to Spain, I quickly discovered that I was one of, if not THE youngest person out of all my friends. It's kind of an interesting feeling. Maybe it's because of the lower drinking age since it levels out the playing field of friends. Everyone is an equal. In the States, you are confined to people your own age in a sense. And really, it's stupid. I have learned so much from my friends through their own individual life stories and experiences. And this is where I learned another valuable lesson: Traveling for the sake of saying "Oh, of COURSE I've been there" or for sheer bragging rights is not traveling at all. Traveling is experiencing a culture. It's getting to know your surroundings in a foreign place. It's learning a language. It's eating different food. It's being able to acknowledge how these individual experiences have shaped you as a person. It's about making friends and learning through them as well as yourself. 

One of my biggest fears about returning home, and don't receive this in a pretentious way, is the question "How was Spain?"There is really no way I will be able to sit down with any person, no matter how close of a friend you may be, and explain to you how Spain was. I can tell you this: It was incredible and there is not a single part of me that regrets leaving everything I know to come to a foreign place on my own. And with that, I will then tell you, go try it yourself. Get out of your comfort zone and create your own unexplainable memories. Educate yourself through the knowledge of others and through your travels. Everyone owes that to themselves. And as a young traveler, I can't help but stress the importance of traveling, and how it has lead me to an exploration of self, people and culture. With that, I would like to thank everyone who I have met through this journey and all of those who have helped me. You all know who you are.

As for me, maybe this particular chapter in my life is closing, but really, my life is just now starting and I couldn't be more excited to see where it leads me.

Everything happens for a reason.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. -Mark Twain

Feliz Año Nuevo!

Hello everyone! I am back! No more panicking!

I realize it has been well over a month since I have put any effort into adding to my blog. I can say, however, that I have a multitude of stories to excite you with-- stories of adventure, fun and valor.

The last update I had was on Thanksgiving day. From that point on, I became relatively busy in preparation for my mother's arrival and just for the holidays in general. December brought along a lot of change. To begin, one of my best friends in Vitoria, Sophie, had to leave back to Denmark. That was not exactly the easiest goodbye. For those of you who didn't know, Mel, Sophie and I are like a trinity. Things just haven't felt the same without her. Luckily, I still have the wonderful Melanie, Magui, abundance of English teaching friends, and (the newest addition to the pack) Steve. Regardless, I am still counting down the days in which Sophie returns to Vitoria for a little bit!

Gone but not forgotten!

December 21, my mother arrived. I had the ultimate task of navigating myself from Vitoria, all the way to Barcelona El Prat (the airport). Yes, I lived in Barcelona for a month, but not nearly enough time to acquaint myself well enough with the whole city and its metro/train system. Luckily, I sat next to the sweetest lady in the whole entire world who kindly showed me the direction in which I needed to head to find my mother. So, here I was, lugging all of my belongings and waiting for the moment in which I saw my mothers beautifully, jet-lagged face. I waited.... and waited.... and waited..... And finally, it appeared after much distress that I somehow made a mistake and was waiting in the wrong terminal. Our reunion was followed by a little victory dance of excitement. My mother and I! Reunited at last! And so begins the epic tale:

SHANI AND SYDNEY TAKE SPAIN.

Once we arrived to the hostel, my mother decided she wanted to take a catnap before heading out and exploring. So I decided to wander a bit around the area I did know moderately well. It was so weird to be back in Barcelona. I was flooded with what memories I did have there such as being on the Ramblas with Catherine and Julia, meeting very attractive Norwegian boys (who bought us drinks) and so forth. Once I returned to the hostel, I woke up my mom so we could go eat some tapas. 

Her first tapas experience!

The next day, we visited La Sagrada Familia. La Sagrada Familia is a basilica and was designed by the modernist architect Gaudi. Let me just say, this unfinished masterpiece is large and in charge. It was amazing. We had to wait in line for about an hour in order to get inside. We were almost at the front of the line when this French couple decided to cut in line. Wisely enough, they decided to cut behind us and in front of the little Asian family. Of course the Asian family didn't say anything to the disrespectful couple. What does this have to do with my mom and me you ask? Well, my mother began to turn red. She was fuming. FUMING. I began talking to her and she interrupted me with "I'm sorry. I can't concentrate on what you're saying. I'm so angry about the French couple." This of course led to her turning around and giving the French couple dagger eyes. 

Once we neared the front of the line, the security guard asked how long we had been waiting in line for and we replied "about an hour." But then, my distracted and angry mother inserted "However, the people behind us skipped and I think that was VERY mean of them." Ahhh..... brings me back to kindergarten days. Granted, they were in the wrong. It turns out, the couple were pulled out of line, talked to by security guards and not allowed to enter. All I could think about was the fact that this couple could have been capable of anything-- murder by machete begin the first result to pop into my head. Luckily we did not run into this couple for the remainder of the trip. 

Next, we visited more of Gaudi's famous works around Barcelona, none of which were as impressive as La Sagrada Familia. The same night, my mother and I attended a Christmas concert at a famous concert hall which at the beginning, I was excited for. Because of this event, we thought it would be appropriate to dress nice. I mean, it was a Christams concert, but neither my mom or I had nice clothes with us. This resulted in a frantic shopping spree of tears and frustration (my mom wears a 6 1/2 and shoes and they don't sell half sizes here). Of course, being my mother and I, we were running late. So we ran to the theater in heels and dresses. Once we arrived, we discovered that people were wearing jeans and nice shirts, meaning our stressful shopping spree was really not necessary. 

At the concert there was an orchestra, an opera singer and dancers! Joy to the world! The experience was enjoyable overall, but after about an hour and 45 minutes it got a bit redundant. Then, you know, it kind of was a drag. Especially when there were around eight encores. EIGHT. Who in the world has ever had eight encores? I was hungry and displeased. 

The next stop was Toledo and Oropesa. My mom made it a point that she wanted to stay the night in a castle while she was in Spain. So we made reservations at this lovely parador located in Oropesa. In Toledo, we rented a car and hit the road. On our way, we managed to discover a castle off in the distance. And of course, we had to go find it and explore. We detoured for about 45 minutes until we finally arrived. It looked as if no one had been there for years. The inside was overflowing with bushes and shrubs and grass. We explored the crumbling corridors and interestingly enough found a dead pigeon. It was disgusting, but it didn't seem unusual. Pigeons die, right? Well, in another tower, we discovered a decaying dog. It started to get weird then. We concluded that this castle was now grounds for satanist meetings where they sacrificed a dog and pigeon and were probably waiting for unsuspecting adventure-seekers to sacrifice as well. So we left that castle pretty soon after that. 

Once we arrived to the parador, we had a night of luxury. The room was lovely, and the castle itself had so much history (none that I can remember... I'm sorry). The next day, we did some exploring around the towers of the castle and it was then that an interesting realization entered our minds. As we were basically crawling up the precarious and incredibly steep stairs, it hit us that this would NEVER be allowed in the United States. The states are so concerned with being sued and safety regulations whereas in Spain their like "You wanna go up crumbling, steep and possibly death causing stairs of a 14th century castle? SURE! THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER!" It was so much fun and made me appreciate Spain that much more. 

After Oropesa, we went back to Spain. It was my job to find the hostel that we were to stay in for the night until the next day, when we would pick up Michael (my mom's boyfriend) from the airport. Every single hostel I found was booked. Until finally I found one *insert angelic choir here*. I promptly made the reservation before some other traveler could steal it from us, and finally we were on our way. 

Once we got off the metro, the directions informed us that we had about a 20 minute walk until we got to the hostel. In my head, I imagined it wouldn't be bad because we would be seeing cool architecture and it would be a little adventure, even though I was carrying an extremely large bag on my back that felt more like a small child. And my mom.... my poor, poor mom was carrying her backpack as well as about two other bags that were ripping and falling apart. Little did we know that this was only the beginning. 

As we started walking, we got further and further away from homes and neighborhoods and closer to a highway. "Are you sure this is right?" my mom kept asking. I was using my google maps on my phone, my battery was slowly dwindling and I didn't have a lot of money left on my phone. All of this and we were hiking along a highway. I ended up calling the hostel to make sure we were headed in the right direction, and I was promptly reassured that we were in the right area of town. The right area of town meaning the industrial district of Madrid. The district where factories are located and there is no history or fun times or anything nearby. 

So we got to Hostel Welcome. Yeah, that was the name of the hostel. Hostel Welcome. It was..... how do I put this lightly? There really isn't any way to actually. So I will just put it in the eloquent words of another unsuspecting traveller who ended up in the misfortune my mom and I were in now: a half-way house for refugees. It resembled a YMCA. It was awful, especially after staying the night in a castle the previous night. Needless to say, the intended plans of going out in Madrid that night was a bust. 

...........TO BE CONTINUED..........

Less Gluttony, More Thanks

Today, I return to write with a more perhaps, positive outlook on life, the future ahead, as well as satisfaction with the past. To those of you who are unaware, such as my non-American friends, today is Thanksgiving. Normally, at this hour, I would be helping in order to prepare the most succulent, delicious feast one would ever taste in their life. Instead, I am currently in a café, having a café con leche, and a tortilla con atun, pimientos y pan (omelet with tuna, peppers and bread). Needless to say, I have not forgotten about my American roots and have chosen to observe this holiday regardless of where I happen to be living at the moment.
This year is the first year I have been away from such celebrated traditions and I feel I have had an epiphany. Has anyone really ever taken the time to understand the Thanksgiving holiday from a foreigner's point of view? Well, today I finally have. In order to sustain myself here, I give conversational English classes where I just talk to my "student" in English for one hour and get paid anywhere between 10-20 euros an hour. Today, I was giving a class and I told the person that today was Thanksgiving. Of course she has heard about it before, but she didn't really understand the concept of it all.
"Don't you just eat a lot?" Well, yes. But then I found myself trying to defend this ridiculous concept: "There's football on TV, and a parade, and they normally play the first Christmas movies...". Of course maybe once in a blue moon, family members go around the table and name a couple things they are "thankful" for as they savagely devour their fifth helping of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pie, bread, gravy, etc, etc. Does anyone else spot the irony here? Of course, I am not bashing the delicious spread of heart attack helper, because I, for one, love to eat and thus love this sanctioned-for-eating holiday.
However, looking from the outside in, today I will not be having immense amounts of food shoved down my throat, and instead am forced to observe the holiday for what it's worth-- giving thanks. I have realized that a lot has happened in my life, more specifically the last 5 months of it, that I am incredibly thankful for. And for that, I would just like to properly name the things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving.

THINGS I AM THANKFUL FOR...

1. The opportunity to travel and live in Spain.
2. The undeniable support from my family.
3. The friends back home who check up on me, send me their love, and so forth. I love you guys!
4. Florida weather. Believe it or not, I miss the warmer, humid weather.
5. This coffee shop for putting up with me for at least two hours every day.
6. The unfortunate situations I have been in since I have been in Spain. They have helped me grow.
7. My new family, support system, soul mates, circle of friends, whatever you want to be called, that I have made while being in Spain. You guys have kept me sane, have kept me laughing and have been there for me during the most pertinent times. I don't know what I would have done without you guys.
8. Whoever created the first heater.... I'm VERY thankful for you.
9. Cats.
10. The iPhone/skype/modern technology for allowing me to keep in contact with my family and friends while abroad.
11. I know I said my family, but I would like to specifically address my Mom and Dad. I was seriously born with the greatest set of parents ever. I'm really missing you guys today.
12. The bickering, the giggling, the singing and so forth that occurs throughout the day during Thanksgiving. My day is going to be mighty quiet today.
13. Socks.
14. The snowcapped mountains in Vitoria.
15. Home.

I could probably keep writing about things that I am thankful for, but I'm sure you will read more than enough Facebook posts today addressing what everyone is thankful for. At least you can have the satisfaction of knowing that I'm not social media-ing from my iPhone with greasy turkey fingers as I'm reclining on a couch miserably.
In all seriousness, I do miss my family a lot today, and I whole-heartedly respect what this holiday is trying to accomplish in theory. In fact, my friends and I are hosting our own rendition of Thanksgiving tomorrow. It will be on a smaller scale of course. However, today, I am glad that I can for once give my thanks instead of devouring it.

XX

Good Things Must Come To An End

It's been a little bit since I have written for my blog. Times have been stressful to say the least. The whole "I'm going to find conversational English classes" thing hasn't been particularly successful either. I have a roommate now, which is a good thing. But at the moment, I'm just not really doing a whole lot which is a problem. Even though I'm trying to remain optimistic about the whole situation, it looks that I will most likely be returning home in January. No one really knows how much it pains me to say that. I'm starting to come to terms with it more and more, but at the same time, I just want to run away and never leave. Except they would deport me which also wouldn't be a good thing.
In my spare time, I have been watching a lot of Breaking Bad, I'm not going to lie. I've become very involved with the show and have developed the biggest crush on Jesse Pinkman. As you can see, my life has been extremely riveting lately.

On a lighter note, I discovered the strangest thing that still baffles me and goes to show just how small this world is. When I walk to the city center from my flat every day, I pass this sign with a basketball player on it. In Vitoria, they have this pretty good team here that's in the European League. Actually, Magui and I ran in to a player (of course we had no idea who he was) and made Magui take a picture with him because she's so short and he was so tall. It ended up he played in the NBA for a little bit and is a key player for the team here. That's beside the point. This sign I pass every day has this person on it that looked very familiar to me and above him the name said Hodge. I thought to myself "Ha. That's strange. He kind of looks like Walter Hodge from the Gators." I didn't really think that it was him because why on earth would he be in Vitoria. Come on. But one day, I decided to stop and actually look at the sign, and right to the left of the name "Hodge" it said "Walter" on it. Walter Hodge plays basketball in Vitoria. Walter Hodge from The University of Florida. It's seriously the strangest thing. Of all the places in Europe, this is where he ends up. So fingers crossed I get to see him walking in the street so I can throw some "Go Gators" at him. Then naturally we would become best friends and he would eventually introduce me to Chandler Parsons and we would get married.

Another update is that it snowed for the first time on Friday. Snow. In November. I didn't even know how to handle it. Mainly because I walk everywhere. Of course I have been in snow before, but normally if I'm traveling somewhere, I get into a car and it's not a big deal. However, in Vitoria, my only mode of transportation is my feet. So I put on several layers of clothing and didn't know if bringing an umbrella was acceptable or not. It just seems weird to use an umbrella for snow. I used it nonetheless and apparently that's what you do. I just, again, didn't know how to handle myself. Tomorrow we are supposed to get more snow. At least, that's what my phone said. 

The cold is great. The only downside is that it makes me want to stay inside all day long underneath my blankets. And side note: I still haven't turned on my heat. How's that for energy efficiency?

I wish I was able to supply you all with more exciting news. But really, nothing that exciting has happened. Maybe it's kind of sad that the only really cool thing (to me anyway) that I reported was about Walter Hodge.

I guess being here is a little depressing at times because I just think about the future and how soon I'm going to go home. Of course I want to see my friends and family, but I just feel like I'm giving up leaving so soon. Yeah, six months is quite a while to live abroad, make no mistake. It's just I planned to stay here for a year. Furthermore, the friendships I have made here, all the people I have met, it's just weird to think that maybe I won't see them again. It's weird to think that they might only be a memory in a six-month period of my life. Granted, they will be awesome memories, but still. These friends are completely different than the ones back home, and I really don't want to lose them. I guess that's part of life though. Of course then, I start having these fantasies about reuniting with all of them at one point (I'm looking at you, Melanie and Sophie) ten years down the road, in La Virgen Blanca. On top of that, I start thinking about how small the world is, and then hope is kind of restored in my head for a little bit. If we're meant to meet again, we will. So, I'm done being a little depressing. Maybe next time I will have a bit more to write about.

XX

Back in Business

Hello all!
I recently realized that my last entry was rather depressing to say the least. Luckily, I'm returning to blog on a much happier note and bearing good news. However, I will start with the part where I stayed at a friends flat for a week.
After my dramatic "step down" from being an au pair, I have to admit, I hadn't really done much thinking about the "what next" part of my adventure. Luckily, I have a really great and secure circle of friends here who have really helped me so much throughout this less than awesome situation. Throughout this week, I searched for flats high and low and finally landed one. It's on a street called Calle Reyes Catolicós and it's a super cute two bed, one bath flat. Furthermore, it's only a five or so minute walk from Casco Viejo which is the old town.

My living room area/part of the kitchen

The kitchen!

I am very, very excited to be here. For a while, I was pretty depressed about the situation because obviously, this is not where I thought I was going to be four months into my gap year. I thought I was going to be in Barcelona, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Instead, I'm in Vitoria, sitting at a café with three layers of clothes on, one including my coat, jeans and boots, as it rains and blows cold wind in my face. I had no idea that I was going to be living on my own in a foreign country, just barely scraping by. But instead of looking at the negative side of it, I'm in Spain, living on my own, making my own luck. And that's pretty cool. I guess it's just funny how things never work out the way one thinks they will. One small move and it changes everything. Of course I assumed that taking a gap year  would change me here and there. However, I really never thought this is the hand I would be dealt and how fast I would have to really grow up. You college kids have it easy.

On Sunday, I made new friends. Two are from the states (California and Texas) and the other two are from England and France. They are all English teachers and teach at academies in Vitoria (except the French one teaches French I believe). Their names are Erika, Laura, Jess and Adele. It's funny how I met them actually. Sunday I was very depressed seeing as everything was fresh-- I had just quit, I didn't know what I was going to do with my life and I was on the phone with my mom telling her just how conflicted I was. There was a girl sitting at a cafe in front of me and I remember looking at her and thinking how much she reminded me of my aunt. When I got up to leave, a group of friends had joined her and I heard them all speaking English. So of course, when I hear English in Vitoria, my attention perks up much like this:

Yup. That's basically me. I then turned around and asked them "….English?" and they were all "Yeah! You?" and that's where our friendship began. I told them my sob story about my confused life and they ended up inviting me to go see this short film at a bar where we had drinks. The film was made in a city about 45 minutes north of Vitoria called Bilboa and it was a thriller. It was interesting. It was filled with people you typically see stereotyped in movies that go to these small short films and act all proud and intellectual. But it was actually really awesome to attend. 

Tuesday came around, and as most of you know, or don't know maybe, Tuesday was my birthday. I'm not going to lie, Tuesday was not a very awesome day. It didn't feel like my birthday at all. I searched for flats basically all day with Erika which was extremely exhausting. However, before that, I met with Sofie and Melanie who surprised me with a cute cake, coffee and party hat. I couldn't meet with them for very long unfortunately. But, it felt very special to know at least two girls who cared enough and put effort into making my birthday noticed. That night, I was invited to eat dinner with Erika, Jess and Jess' flatmates, who happen to be a couple with a very, very cute dog. Stephanie is one of their names and the other one…. I don't remember. Don't kill me if you read this. I'm sorry!! Anyway, Stephanie is also from the United States and is from Rome, Georgia. COME ON! That's like a hop, skip and jump away from Gadsden where I used to live. So that was crazy to hear. 

The food ended up being absolutely delicious thanks to Jess' amazing cooking skills. I was very grateful to have been invited to dinner, and now I have some nice friends due to it.

On Wednesday, I attended an event at a bar called the Pub Quiz. It's basically a trivia game where you create teams and answer trivia questions. The winner gets a bottle of wine. I went with Erika and Jess and coincidentally, bumped into some couchsurfing friends. We didn't win, unfortunately. But it was still very fun. 

Thursday, I attended Pintxo Pote (pronounced peen-cho po-tay) which takes place every Thursday. Bars supply pintxos which are basically tapas, and specialize in one for the night. You go with a group of friends and everyone puts money into a "pot" let's say. About five euros. Then you just go from bar to bar eating pintxos and the alcoholic beverage (or non-alcoholic beverage) of your choosing. Thursday is also the night that most of the University students around here go out, much like back home. So I made my way to the popular street Kutxi (pronounced cu-chee). There is where I met up with Melanie. 

Ah! I forgot to mention, Thursday was also Halloween. Being born only three days before Halloween, I have taken a strong liking toward the celebration. In Vitoria, not so many people celebrate it. Some kids do, but it is very rare to catch an adult dressed up. That didn't stop me. I painted my face like a cat and hit the streets. Granted I did get a lot of funny looks for wearing tiger ears and a cat face, but it was self-satisfying to know that my Halloween spirit follows me everywhere. 

Some other fellow Halloweenies

Me and Melanie dressed up as kitty cats. MEOW.

Those are the only updates I have to report as of now. Hopefully I will find some conversational English lessons to help pay for the rest of my time here. If not, maybe all of you will be seeing me a lot sooner than planned. Who knows? But at this moment, it's very cold outside and I feel as if my hands and nose are going to freeze off if I stay out here a minute longer. So I guess it's time to say hasta luego. 

Cheers my fellow readers. 

XX

Updates...

Hello all,

Just so everyone has the opportunity to be on the same page as everyone else in my adventure, I am posting this very publicly:

I quit.

Before anyone asks, I quit for my own well-being. And since this was the second family I was with, I really see no point in trying to find a third. To be honest, I don't really know what I am doing, or going to do. I have a place to stay currently, but I am looking for a flat to rent for two months so I can be here when my mom comes. I am hoping that I can find more opportunities with conversational English classes, but honestly, who knows. I'm just a 19 year old girl, thousands of miles away from home, and I feel completely vulnerable. But, I guess we all have to grow up at some point.

XX

Kaixo! Hola! Hello!

Well, it's Monday. So here I am, blogging again, in the same spot, with the same café con leche and croissant. Wow, it really took me a long time to figure out how to spell "croissant." That's a word that I'm pretty sure I've never had to sit down and actually spell. I was butchering it so bad that auto-correct couldn't even help me out. Anyway, as I am sitting here blogging, there is a wonderful protest taking place with Basque Country citizens requesting to be separate from Spain. And by "requesting" I mean, shouting and marching around with signs in a less than subtle fashion. Since I'm talking about the Basque people, I might as well talk about their fashion sense that I have been judging ever since I have been in Vitoria and I just haven't gotten around to expressing my thoughts on it. The Basque people have a certain style that is, how can I put this, caught somewhere between 90's grunge and 70's punk rock. But not the good kind of punk rock style... like the mullets and awkward bangs. Think Ramones. I'm not one to necessarily judge based on style, but this one is just a really, really bad fashion trend. It is not uncommon in the least to see young boys and young men sporting this awful spin-off of a mullet. Let me paint the picture for you: You see a guy head on, and you think to yourself, "hmm, he is pretty cute." You keep walking, pass him, and turn around and then there it is. The dreads. They normally have anywhere between one to six dreads at the nape of their neck. And not short little rat tails either. Like full on, long dreads. Yikes. Mullet to a whole new level. The female hairstyle is the connection I make to the Ramones. If you don't know what the Ramones look like, I encourage you to look them up and you will see just how awful their hairstyle was. On top of this strange hair trend, everyone likes to wear bouldering clothes, meaning lightweight, capri like shorts, and hiking shoes. If that isn't enough to turn you off, the men also wear hoop earrings. Yes, hoop earrings. They can be anywhere between a small hoop to one that is seen on perhaps Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she's working the streets. It is very interesting to see.

To continue, I got my haircut! That was probably the most exciting thing that happened to me this week to be completely honest. I was ready for a change! So I made an appointment and did it. Most of you have already seen my lovely bangs and layers I got. I love 'em! My mom, however, pointed out that I resemble Björk STILL. That was something that I used to get a lot when I was a toddler because of my Asian eyes. But you guys, I'm still Björk. I'm thinking I should start making electronica music now, just so I can be even more like her. Just to show you how much I resemble her, I create a side-by-side picture of me and her. You tell me who is who.

In addition, my birthday is coming up! Hoo Rah! Unfortunately, I have had this idea ever since July that it was "close enough" to my birthday that I can just say that I'm 19. So, basically, everyone that I have met since July thinks I'm 19 right now. And they will probably think I'm turning 20 in eight days. So not that it's really awkward, it's just I'm going to feel a little silly letting everyone know "hey, I'm really still a teenager. Sorry I lied." So, to anyone who I am friends with that I told I was 19, I hate to break it to you, but I still got one more year of teenage living. Please don't confront me about this. I'm glad I got that one off my chest. But I'm beginning to fear that my birthday is just going to be another, ordinary day and I'm getting kind of sad that I won't be given any special treatments because it's my birthday. I guess that's part of "growing up," but I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP. I just want my dad to buy me Starbucks in the morning on my birthday, I want a birthday cake, and balloons, and hand-made cards. But beggars can't be choosers. And I'm only assuming it only gets worse the older you get. Luckily, 19 isn't like a super awesome year to celebrate anyway. 

Last weekend, I went out for a little while. Really, it was just an eventful Saturday overall. I went with the family to their Tennis Club's "Oktoberfest." They only had two beers on tap. One was some awful lager, and the other was Budweiser. Real German, ya know? But it was really fun nonetheless, and I ate like a king. They had schnitzel, meats, sauerkraut, sausage, pot roast, mashed potatoes and apple strudel. Ah, it was wonderful. Of course me being the stereotypical "fat american" I ate everything. And my host family, being all european, could barely finish the first plate. That's where I stepped in and decided to help them out a bit and eat what they couldn't finish. I began to wonder if they knew they also hired a personal garbage disposal in addition to an au pair. Afterwards, I went out for a while with Mel and Sofie, but ended up going home around 10. Not a late night. But still, it's always a good time with those girls. 

Paulina and Me at "Oktoberfest" (she loves to smile)

The girls and I out. It was this fellows bachelor party. Isn't he the cutest?

There's not much else to report. I miss everyone. And I'm excited to hear from EVERYBODY in eight days.... *Cough* My birthday *Cough*

Besitos xx