homage to catalan(ia)

y’all, life was rough on saturday.  we got up around noon and decided to suck it up get some fucking french toast.  really, tortilla and cafe, but it helped sober us up.  it was time to sight see.

we wandered over to the picasso museum and surveyed its massive line and opted for the gift shop instead.  it was way too hot to stand there and since i’d already been, cs thought we should do some more wandering and head towards sagrada familia.  what i didn’t know until that moment is that ‘wandering’ means ‘buy lots of bags’ where cs lewis comes from, which is viriginia beach in case you were wondering (holla saltdogs and navy seals).  our long, scenic and scorching hot walk was broken by the comic relief of calling home to talk to cs lewis’s mother, ma weber.  she’s a lovely woman, and quite fun to party with, but she’s out of her mind.  i literally spit water all over the sidewalk listening to just cs’s half of the conversation.  which reminds me, if you have the means, hop on down to club web in vb, it’s a great experience.  book ahead, though, that place fills up.  especially when there’s a steel drum band scheduled for the weekend.

i digress.  in an unbelievable turn of events, there was no line to get into the cathedral, so we gladly pay the 8 euro to go inside.  i was pleased to see cs was as blown away as i am by this sublime monument and we took our time soaking in the beauty and divinity.  it truly is amazing.  i was also impressed by how much had been done in the ten years since i was first blessed by the sight of it.  putting it into context, it was started in 1883, so that much progress in a single decade was remarkable.  i can’t wait to attend a sunday service there one day, and have hope and faith i will have the opportunity in my lifetime.

we walked back by heading down calle mallorca towards casa mila or la pedrera, where the line equalled that of picassos museum.  knowing we had time tomorrow, we opted to come back and enjoy a stroll down la passeig de gracia. 

we hooked a left at plaza catalunya and headed back to the hostel, where my duty as the “official arbiter of cs’s spending habits on souvenirs” was put to its strongest test yet.

we relaxed, showered, and headed to bar gaudi for dinner, which is located two doors from our hostel.  knowing cs and me, going somewhere so close is shocking, absolutely shocking, but it’s true. 

the reason this is relevant is because the guy that stands outside and solicits patrons had been trying to get us to eat there for the last 36 hours.  he was pleased to lead us to a table where we enjoyed an amazing dinner, as well as the company of our waiter, tomate (i’ll explain later) who was quite taken with my face and language abilities.  i was too taken with my artichokes from the oven to notice, so his asking me out later went totally unnoticed.  i’m spastic, yes, but i blame this stupidity on these artichokes.  i was seriously picturing me in a wedding dress and las alcochofas in a tux and cummerbun.

leaving, we told the guy outside that it was great and i said “si podria casarme con las alcochofas, lo hare.”  it took me at least a half hour to put the subjunctive for that together correctly.  instead of applause at my proper tenses, he said “que bueno.  me llamo alcochofa.  do you want to be married and live here or in new york.”  he then told us he got off at two.

we smiled and wandered off for another pub crawl, which ended you’llneverguesswhere: the temple bar.  the scene of last night’s crime.  or the inception and planning of the crime, anyway.  we didn’t return in the hopes of meeting up with johhny b good’s stag do, so we weren’t disappointed to not see them there.  in short order, cs was chatting up a pack of scots and i was talking to maurizio (a venetian phd student in town to study) and david (tall, dark, handsome, catalan).  love. at. first. sight.

we were contentedly talking to our prospective prospects when the next thing i know, plan b is back and dressed like a school boy.  following closely behind was the rest of the crew in identical ensembles, replete with johnny in full harry potter costumes.  hilarious.  i didn’t see rio grande at first, which was fine, because david was a piece of pixie dust combined with a dream and i was happy as a clam where i was.  eventually, cs got folded into the stag do once again, but i resisted, excepting a brief interaction with justin timberlake junior (where was that guy last night???).  i finally noticed rio, who was squarely ignoring me (boo! bad form!).  we made eye contact later, i waved, he mouthed that he was really drunk and that was pretty much that.

after a few more hours of this, cs’s new paramour had talked her into going to port olympic and the disco baja beach with the whole do.  when they were throwing us out at last call, she was in the street yelling past the bouncer, “come on, come on, we’re going to the disco.”  i asked david if he and maurizio would come with and he said he’d love to, but we had to wait until m came back from los aseos.  i waved off cs lewis and waited.  when m came back, david disappeared.  I was like “what the? i thought you guys were coming with?”  m said yes, they would come.  i told him where we were going and to meet us there since i had to go out to cs before she popped an anuerysm.  they had my card and email, so we were insured.

 i got into one of the cabs and headed down to port olympic with the rest.  once there, i realized i’d been before and we didn’t have to pay the 18 euro cover to get in.  all we had to do was go downstairs to the beach level and grab an outside table at the disco, no cover at all.  only darren had the sense to listen to me and we scored a large table right by the doors to wait for the rest to figure it out.  eventually, herbs, jt jr, johnny, rio and plan b caught on and came to sit down.  we ordered a round, which i paid for (what the?) and still rio did not acknowledge me.  not a thanks, nothing.  i really didn’t want to be there, and was already cursing my seperation from david, so when they got up to go to the strip club down the way and asked me to join them, i begged off.  i was ready for home.  i found cs inside (still didn’t pay) and she was still chatting up the same guy.  i told her i was off and would see her later.

i got into a cab upstairs when i realized i had exactly 8 euro to my name and no idea how far i was from las ramblas, which means i had no idea how far i was going to have to trudge home.  the cabbie agreed to take me as far as the 8 would get me, which was exactly to my street, thank you jesus, st. george and the traffic-less streets of late night barcelona.

cs got home later with the guy (tim, i believe), who’d been chatting her up the whole time and planting soft, tongueless kisses on her all night.  when she asked what his hesitation was he replied “because i have a girlfriend.”  zunh.  i mean, zunh?

apparently, he kept chatting her up after that, took her home, and then asked if he could come up.  what the?  is this pretty woman?  what the fuck?

anyway, i was gutted about losing david and maurizio, but pretty annoyed by rio as well.  i didn’t go there to see him, and didn’t expect him to chat me up (though he did look disturbingly hot in his uniform) or not go home with a different girl, but some manners, please. 

luckily, david has my email.  fingers crossed.  i’ve already constructed a whirlwind trans-atlantic IM-based romance in my mind and i don’t mind telling you it’s fantastico. sigh.

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2 Responses to “homage to catalan(ia)”


  1. 1 cs lewis 10 August, 2007 at 06:51

    2 things.
    What is a salt dog, and that will be the first and last time you will ever hear me yell, “Come on, we’re going to the disco.”

  2. 2 isosceles 10 August, 2007 at 15:15

    1. salt dog

    Used of Marines for someone who is very experienced at their job and/or who has been enlisted for a long time.

    since you’re from VB with all the jarheads and whatnot.


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truth

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

truth

Upon common theatres, indeed, the applause of the audience is of more importance to the actors than their own approbation. But upon the stage of life, while conscience claps, let the world hiss! On the contrary if conscience disapproves, the loudest applauses of the world are of little value - john adams
August 2007
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from the man who taught me everything:

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”

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