La Vida Española: the Good, the Rant, & the Caramel Vodka

*Disclaimer*
The following blog post is a melding of exactly how I feel at the moment, which is a mixture of excitement, hope, determination, nostalgia, despair, and anger. Of my own accord, I realize that merging of such topics into one post makes zero sense. But actually, it makes perfect sense. And besides, it's my blog, and I can rant and rave about hating my job and partying in Spain if I want to. I'm sure by now, I've made quite clear the awesome time I had on my trip.  I'm also sure that if you've been following the blog for a while, I've made quite clear that I hate my job, and have been on the relentless prowl for something better, which after 14 months, is still to no avail. Just a head's up, cuz it might get a little weird.

In case you missed it, I will reiterate that my two weeks in España and Morocco were magnificent.  Like unicorns and glitter magnificent.

The cousin's roommate. They both like to make faces, jajaja

see unicorn on his shirt +glitter on me [Actually, it's body shimmer from Victoria's Secret. It's a self indulgent, gratuitously girly, if not completely ridiculous body powder that makes me sparkle like an Oscar statue freshly spit shined by the 8 year old Taiwanese sweat shop worker that assembled it for 61 cents an hour. It is the single most fabulous thing in my makeup bag and most favorite cosmetic purchase of all time] =magnificent!

¡The we were introduced to Sobrasada!

My trip was so good, in fact, that my short time there only solidified what I've long suspected even before my first venture into Europe back when I was in college and even more so every time I return from there: life in these United States just ain't for me! Now one could say that this is just my inner bougie rearing it's ugly head. That of course I would want to up and move to España after having had a great vacation in the presence of great company, as most people feel that way when returning from really good vacations, especially to Europe. The only difference between me and those folks, is that I'm not bullshitting you. I'm currently hatching a 16-24 month plan, I've been forsaking TV for Rosetta Stone, and I've decided that I'm getting a new job by October [DO YOU HEAR ME UNIVERSE?! I WILL GET A NEW JOB BY OCTOBER. SCREW YOU AND SCREW THIS RECESSION. I'M DONE WITH MY BULLSHIT JOB. YOU WILL GIVE ME A NEW FUCKING JOB BECAUSE I'VE PUT IN THE WORK. I'VE GOT A FUCKING BINDER FULL OF SUBMITTED RESUMES TO PROVE IT YOU FECKLESS BITCH! I'M SMART, I'M A FAST LEARNER, I'M QUALITATIVE AND A RESEARCHER BY NATURE AND I YEARN TO BE CHALLENGED, APPRECIATED, AND NEEDED AT MY PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT! SO HEAR ME NOW, OCTOBER WILL COME, AND I WILL BE A NEW EMPLOYEE IN THE DISTRICT OF FUCKING COLUMBIA. GOT THAT? GOOD!] that pays a little better and doesn't me make dread getting out of bed each morning, so I can appropriately save for what will be an expensive transition and not be completely loony by the time I arrive in Barcelona.  Honestly, if a legitimate opportunity presented itself tomorrow, I'd be on a plane with the poodle and chuckin' Obama n' dem the the deuces, and giving my job [the building and the institution itself, not so much my coworkers] the finger and some other choice words, in Español, of course.

But back to the unicorns and glitter. [Yes I am going to completely resume my train of thought as if I didn't just completely lose it on the blog. Damn it feels good to be a gangsta!] You've seen the food, and I've touched on some of the best aspects, like the hot men EVERYWHERE [like even the garbage men were hot, several of them, hell even the gay men were hot, like "hot sthuff ssss!" hot], the partying, the warmth of the Moroccan people, and of course, the shopping.  But there was so much more to it. Imagine if say, the U.S. had a 25% unemployment rate. There would be rioting in the streets. Literally. Well that is the current unemployment rate in España, and the country is still standing, and people are still living their lives, and not committing murder/suicides as was tragically observed at the onset of the economic downturn here at home. It's just in my two weeks there, I got the feeling that the Spaniards know more about living their lives than we do. My cousin whose been there for five years agrees. There's just a jena sais quois about their lifestyle. It's hot shit. And I want to be a part of it.

And then there was the Caramel Vodka. I'm a boozehound, [cue Chelsea Handler] as indicated in these posts. I don't know if I've really made clear my obsession with caramel, but you should know, it's real serious y'all. Real serious. With that said, please enjoy the following presentation of tomfoolery and awesomeness, courtesy of carmel vodka, other various libations, and of course, guapos. The four of us sure did ;-]

It should be mentioned, that perhaps with the exception of my cousin himself, there is probably no one else more upset about his upcoming transfer back to the States than I am. I was really REALLY trying to get back to España before his return. But outrageous plane ticket prices are killing me right now.

Last but not least, have you signed up for the giveaway yet?  Yeah, take care of that here.