Things you learn on Facebook

I'm here!!! I'm really tired. I'm waiting for my phone to charge from my laptop so that I can turn it off and go to sleep. I have new friends! They're American too. My mom is nice...she taught me how to open the door and make coffee. I haven't slept in something like 40 hours. Am I still coherent? Depends on what your native language is. People here, at least the 3 I've talked to have told me my Spanish is very good. Maybe that's just in comparison to other Americans they've met. Do I always get this pretentious when I'm tired? I don't know, ask Megan Ingram for that one. Do you know what tastes good? Spanish coffee. It's strooooong. Thank God that the Spaniards use very little water when makin their cup'o joe! And nobody would ever say that. The ramblings (de las ramblas!) should be over soon, since my phone is at 15% and I only need it to last long enough to wake me up in the morning. My mom bought me fruit. And some of it I've never even heard of, but it's tasty! I think that I should maybe probably turn out the lights and do some zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Layover, Eh?

Well, here I am in Toronto with some time to kill. If I weren't in the airport I may go visit some cousins...(That would be you, Rodney and Cerita!) or go to Casa Loma. I hear they make movies there. But instead I am sitting here by gate E68, with my new friend Sarah! Say hello to Sarah...

Which just goes to show that I have the amazing ability to make friends absolutely anywhere. We happen to be going to Barcelona, both to study! Awesome, right? So now I have a buddy to get me through the remainder of my journey.

The first flight went absolutely splendidly. Smooth flight, only an hour long, and I ended up in Canada!! I now have my first stamp in my passport. And it's true, Canadians are much friendlier, at least as far as security and customs go. The American TSA woman about bit my head off when I forgot to take my laptop out of my carry on. Woops...  As far as the in-flight entertainment goes, watching Parks and Rec while listening to music on my iPod isn't the worst. At least it wasn't rejected NBC pilots. To top it off, my flight got in 1 minute early! Huzzah! (That's for you, ScottJones)

The only downside is that my flight to Barcelona is delayed an hour and forty-ish minutes. Which is actually pretty alright. I've got some extra down time to pee in a bathroom that doesn't move, and buy some magazines with Canadian dollars (which I can only assume are made from dehydrated Canadian bacon). But also to get to know my new friend a little better! So, until I get some more down time and better stories to tell, Adios! 

Less than 24 hours...

It is the day before I leave! I've been counting down so long that it's hard to believe that this time tomorrow I will be on a plane to the fabulous...Toronto. But after my layover, I'll be on my way to España! 

On a serious note, (because I am capable of such on occasion) I would like to thank everyone who has supported me in my journey to this point. My parents have emptied their pockets, and my family has been wonderful enough to give me all of my birthday cards early so that I have money when I get there. And to my fabulous friends who have yelled and screamed with me through my acceptance into the program and BIC, I love you. I am coming back, I promise.

This is what you should expect from the blog from this point on:

1. Really bad jokes. You can thank Matthew Fields for that.

2. Funny and embarrassing stories of me trying to figure out a new language and culture.

3. Some desperate pleas for Sorrento's pizza.

4. References to American pop culture...because Spaniards aren't going to get it.

5. Some general Carlee-craziness. Woohoo!

In the meantime, enjoy some John Denver, and laugh at his hair and big glasses. He's still a better artist than Rebecca Black.

So keep reading! The best is yet to come. 

Two Weeks Notice

The days are ticking down, and I'm almost at my destination! I have exactly 14 days until my plane leaves O'Hare and hops over to Toronto. (See what I did there? Hare...hop...like a bunny...anyway) This is the time when one might usually start packing. And since I am a responsible woman of the 21st century, I shall start my packing. So here it is: my packing list, with commentary.

The Somewhat Necessary

• Documents (passport, visa, plane tickets, etc.) These will allow me to get in to Spain and make sure they don't kick me out
• Money. Because chances are, I may get hungry.
• Rx. (This stands for Radioactive Xylophones.)
• Backpack. They tell me I'm going to Spain for school.  I might as well humor them.
• Gifts for my host family. I'm between Bears gear and peanut butter
• Computer w/charger. So that I can continue my lovely blog
• Camera. Photographic evidence that I ate at a cafe.
• Plug Adapters. Unfortunately plugs aren't universal yet.  
• Mattress. Just in case the one in the apartment isn't comfortable

Clothing/Shoes (Probably way more than I actually need)

• Jeans (2-3 pairs) 
• Sweaters/Hoodies (2-3) Bringing American style...or lack thereof.
• T-shirts. Classy.
• Long sleeve shirts.
• Underwear 
• Long side note: I forgot underwear on a week long trip to Colorado when I was a sophomore in high school. It was the most awkward/miserable 2 days until I could buy new ones. Never making that mistake again.
• Pajamas. And maybe bananas...
• Socks. The cute ones with llamas on them.
• Swimsuit. Although with all the nude and topless beaches, I may not even need it! (joking, family)
• One set of workout clothes. Because I'm delusional.
• Jacket. For when the temperature dips down into the fifties...
• One nice outfit for special/formal occasions. Such as movie premieres or bar mitzvahs
• Decent walking shoes. And also pretty yet impractical heels
• Flip flops (especially for showering at hostels)
• Sarong, straw hat, beach umbrella, flamenco dress

Toiletries (Because Spain Doesn't Have Stores)

• Shampoo/Conditioner. To keep my hair luscious
• Toothbrush/toothpaste. Because this isn't the UK
• Soap. 
• Deodorant. BO is unacceptable.
• Disposable razors. This is Europe after all.
• Hairbrush. Unless the grunge thing comes back.
• Nail clippers and nail file. So I can obnoxiously primp while waiting in line 
• Suntan lotion. Now I'm just rubbing it in.
• Makeup.  No one should see my real face in the morning
• Toilet. Trees.

Misc.

• Small plastic bottles for toiletries. TSA hates big bottles and they cannot lie.
• Purse. To carry my things in. Or to hit attackers with. 
• iPod. If I can find the darn thing...
• Umbrella. Ella ella  eh eh eh
• Watch. What we used before cell phones.
• Sunglasses.
• Playing Cards. For solitaire mostly.
• Journal. Which I will then select entries from to put on my blog. Gotta save the juicy stuff for my granddaughter to find years after I'm dead in a dusty old crate in the attic. 
• Thin lightweight towel. Or a Shamwow.
• Flip. Never leave home without your frog.

My Kingdom for a Visa

Applying for a visa. This sounds like a whole barrel of monkeys’ kind of fun, right? Of course not.  It was possibly the most stressful application process of my life. I mean, getting into North Central was easier and required less effort than this. (Not that I picked my school because they didn't require an essay with the application. I would never do such a thing out of laziness… Anywho!) I started looking at all of my visa requirements with plenty of time to spare. My appointment was on Friday. I opened my email on Monday. Perfectly logical! Except that they want your entire life story on a felt board like in Sunday school. Which I always thought was brilliant. They were pieces of paper that stuck without sticky things! But I digress.

The requirements to obtain a Spanish visa, which is a part of the Schengen zone (apparently according to my research), and expansive and vary greatly from one consulate to the next. So I, being completely freaked out and paranoid, decided to obtain ALL THE DOCUMENTS!!!! This, in hindsight, wasn’t a bad plan after all. I panicked at my time frame, since I was to leave for Naperville the very next day, and simultaneously inconvenienced my dear loving parents. I had my mother set up a last minute physical so that my doctor could say that I am “Physically and mentally well and able to travel” which is only about half true. I also had to have my father go to the bank to get a money order, and to the post office so that they could notarize a statement saying that he will give me $1000 a month to live in Spain (Best piece of paper that I have ever owned!).  All in less than 24 hours notice. Did I get all of this done in time? Yes. Did it make my mother have a spaz attack? Pretty much. Did I need all of those documents? Nope.

This is the beauteous part of the Spanish consulate. They say you need all of these things…4 passport photos, bank statements, color copies of every piece of paper in your filing cabinet. But really all they want is your forms and your money. I gave the man at the counter probably a third of the papers I had in my folder for my application. Which I was okay with, it is totally better than getting there and having the man behind the counter go, “Passport?” and you go “…riiiiiiiiight…” However, I had a traumatic experience that was almost that bad. My story goes a little something like this:

I get into Chicago at about 10:55 and decide to take a cab so that I get to my 11:30 appointment with plenty of time to spare. I lucked out with a driver who didn’t care about my life story and knew that I probably didn’t care about his. I discover on my way there, that my planner says 11:40, and I had much more time than I thought I would. (Sweet!) So I get to the consulate, which mostly just looks like a post office, and start talking to some of the other people studying abroad. When it gets to my turn at the 11:40 slot, actually about 12:00 at that point, I step up to the counter. I give the man my passport and he looks up my name. “That’s strange, your name isn’t in the system” My heart feels like it’s dropping all fifteen stories onto Michigan Avenue.  “I’ll try looking it up again” I try to convince myself he spelled my name wrong. “Are you sure you had an appointment today?” “I’m absolutely positive, I wrote it in every planner and on every piece of paper I have” Okay, so a bit of hyperbole, but still. Really?! I was about to burst into tears or take a chair and smash the window, because basically my life was over. “Can I see your forms?” What the hell is this guy getting at? Does he really want to torture me this much? “Okay and your ID. Okay, I’ll take your letter of acceptance.” And that’s when I figured out…he’s going to let me do it anyway! Oh heaven, and angels, and Eric Clapton! I got all of my papers that he needed turned in and he told me, “Come back in a month to pick up your visa.” I CAN GET MY VISA!!! I practically skip out of the building with relief and a new sense of freedom.

And then I ask myself. “’Come back in a month’? What is that supposed to mean?!”

Beginnings (I know, I'm super creative)

So, in approximately 55 days I leave for a brand new world. Or, I guess it should be called the Old World. But I think that's mostly reserved for immigrants. Anyway. I leave for four whole months to live in the beautiful and dangerous city of Barcelona. Architecture, beaches, art, music, and lots of pickpockets. I've got my plane ticket, my passport...but other than that, I don't have much.


I've been studying Spanish since my sophomore year at Clinton High School. (Shout out to Sra. Reich!) So as of now, I've had 5ish years of foreign language. Now that doesn't at all account for the regional differences or the accent that I'll come into contact with when I arrive in Barthelona...but that's just one of the many challenges that I'll have to face. 


I also face the challenge of keeping in contact with my friends and family back home while making new connections and friendships in Spain. Which is whyyyy....I started a blog! Yaaaaaaay! I am going to try to post at least weekly so that everyone back home knows not to call Liam Neeson to save me. Hopefully most of my posts will be both insightful and educational, with some humor and romance thrown in. You know, something for everyone. 


Until that point, I shall give updates on my progress of getting to my goal! Which is...landing safely in Spain. So thanks for reading!


A donde te quieren mucho no vengas a menudo. (A constant guest is never welcome)