Let's Make the MOST of Our Lives Like We're Gonna DIE YOUNG!

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I hear your heaaartbeat to the beat of the drums

Oh what a shame that you came here with someooooone 

So while you're here in my arms

Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young!

Wednesday, March 4, 2015. 6:20 pm.

I'm driving from my new 9-5  to my next "job" at my aerial dance studio, where I work the front desk, teach lyra, and take as many pole and lyra classes as my body can handle every week. The new job is kind of intense, and that Wednesday, I was physically and mentally spent. My 2001 Accord, doesn't have an auxiliary port, so I'm forced to play mix CDs  (as if it's 2001) in order to free myself from the maddening cycle of the same seven songs played on mainstream radio when I'm not in the mood for classical music.

That day, I was not in the mood for classical music. I was a bit restless. I wanted to jam in my car while driving through the mothereffing rain that was the teaser to yet another fucking snow storm. I reached for an old favorite, my "Some Nights in Murcia" cd (because all my mix cds have titles, duh) and transported myself back to 2012/13, back to where it all started…Murcia (moorsee-uh).

View from atop the Castillo de Monteagudo

  

It has been 7 months, 1 week, and 6 days since I  stepped off a plane from Madrid at JFK international with Kona, 4 carry ons, 2 checked luggage, a heart full of memories, and a head full of anxiety after two life-changing years in Spain. In these seven months, my transition back to full time American has been surprisingly uneventful. My aforementioned anxiety largely centered around finding a job. I temped as an executive assistant for six months, and then last month my temp gig finally yielded on its investment, and I transitioned into a salaried, benefit providing, and career forwarding job as a health program specialist. Huzzah! And even before that blessing actualized, I did manage to spend some time with some of the most important people in my life in the tri-state area. I also  succeeded in sticking to my rule of celebrating New Years in a new place, and saw in the start of 2015 in Los Angeles for my first trip to the west side of the sun to visit  my one and only foodie paramour (whom I met in Madrid). That whole hitting the wall of reverse culture shock didn't really happen--aside from my forgetting how insanely large American portion sizes can be, which I can legitimately say blew my effing mind.  I remain horrified that serving me a pound of "food" and half a gallon of drink is considered normal here. But in considering the larger picture, I lived in Spain for two years. I learned a new language. I  climbed mountains, and forded streams, and followed every fucking rainbow!

Archena, Murcia

I kept expecting the, "OMG, you left Madrid to come back to Baltimore, what on earth have you done?!" shoe to drop and hit me in the face. But it felt so normal to be back. It was so seamless a change, that it almost as if I never left, and THAT was the strangest part of my return. 

Or so I thought.

Lost in Translation::Pollo al Horno con Puerros de Mantequilla

After four months of living in Spain, you would think that by now, I would have fully adjusted and settled into my new life here. But the reality of the situation is that it's taken me just that long to feel as if I've found some semblance of balance and/or normalcy. And keep in mind the operative term of "semblance" because both my definitions of normal and balance seem be in a constant state of change. In any event, for many reasons, including this period of adjustment, I've been remiss if not purposely avoidant of updating this blog. 

As you can imagine, there are lots of things that get lost in translation when one packs up their entire life and moves to a new country, and transitioning a domestic food blog to describe an international life is one of them. I have struggled here, not only with the language and from time to time, the distance from home, but the question of how to express myself in that full-on Bernadette way--complete with inappropriate levels of profanity, butter, and bourbon, whilst sharing the good, the bad, and the absurdity of my life in Spain. 

January 13. on the beach!

A Place of Yes

Alicante

If you speak even the smallest smattering of Spanish,  I assume that you might find the title of this long overdue blog entry a bit contratictory to the blog's new namesake Sin Mayonesa, Por Favor. But I assure, it's not.

Elche

Allow me to explain. When I departed from the states on the 11th of September, I was carrying with me a bag of farewell cards from my friends, that I didn't  have the stones [nor the time, or emotional capital] to read previously. But during the drive to JFK international, following my heroing defeat of all things Murphy's law on that fateful day, I finally decided it was time to put my big girl panties on, and read what my friends had to say. Naturally, all the cards made me cry.  But one card hit a chord. One of my dear friends encouraged me to find my place of yes.

Murcia

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

So after much preparation, and absurd last minute drama, I finally embarked on my journey to Spain. In the year preceding my decision to move abroad [2011] and the last weeks leading up to my move, however, I felt incredibly lost. In both these instances it felt as my life was in endless turmoil. With respect to year preceding this decision, I felt that every decision I ever made was wrong, and despite my best laid plans, the world insisted on stomping them into oblivion. In the weeks leading up to the move, the significance of my departure started to weigh on me like a ton of bricks and there were three tearful breakdowns. The first at my going away party, the second and most physically significant being fueled by a massive amount of vodka, courtesy of table service at my favorite strip club, and the last was brought on by a series of unfortunate events, including, but not limited to Kona being incredibly sick the day of our departure. As I sat in the vet's office that morning, giving them my tearful permission to run whatever tests were necessary, it was in that moment I was convinced that packing up my life and moving to a new country was the WORST IDEA EVER.

Even after leaving the vets office $200 poorer, with a bag full o' medicine and poodle on the mend in tow, I wasn't so sure that the energy that I was expending to speed to my mom's house in New Jersey where I was supposed to have been the night before, was worth it at that point. What was supposed to be the most exciting experience of my life, had morphed into the nightmare that wouldn't end, that kept getting more expensive, and invited everyone in the WORLD to tell me I was going to meet  a Spanish man, fall in love and get pregnant. On the day of my departure, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and stay there forever. But instead, I pressed on.

Top Ten Things I'll Miss About Home

So the time is coming. In just 19 days I'm boarding a plane with my poodle, my passport, way too many shoes and boots that I'll surely be paying for extra for and my older sister (she's accompanying me for the first two weeks) and MOVING to Spain. [And yes, if you just did the math, that means I fly on September 11th...from JFK ...a bittersweet day it will be indeed]

Holy. Shit!

Needless to say I'm way effing excited and a little bit terrified, but I'm also slightly depressed. This past Saturday I had the most amazing going away Churrasco (post to come) and a ton of my family and friends came, and amongst the eating, laughing, boozing and reminiscing, there were more than a few tears that I just could not hold back. The fact is, I'm packing up my stuff and my dog and leaving behind the life that I've known for more than 25 but less than 30 years [don't y'all love how I never confirm my actual age even though 90% of you actually know what it is. I like to keep the mystery, lol]. So it goes without saying that there are people and things I'm going to miss about home. But it wouldn't be any fun if I didn't actually say who and what I'll miss, so here we go...

Jump

I haven't got much time to waste, It's time to make my way

I'm not afraid of what I'll face, but I'm afraid to stay

I'm going down my road and I can make it alone

I'll work and I'll fight till I find a place of my own 

Are you ready to jump
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hand, get ready to jump

-Madonna, Jump, Confessions on a Dance Floor

  
I love Madonna, and this one of my all time favorite songs of hers. Part of the reason I love this song, is because it's the background music in the montage scene in The Devil Wears Prada, where Andie has clearly gotten her shit together, and is seen sporting several fierce winter coats [and I have a growing obsession with outerwear]. And the other reason I love this song, is because it's motivational anthem, which for the past 3 years, 11 months, and 15 days, has often been necessary to get my ass out of bed and into my office. It's a song I've played often in order to invoke that sense that "I've made it"and as an educated, gainfully employed, independent, and occasionally awesome grown woman, and I'm totally living some version of 'the life' ".

Not.

As I've talked about many times on this blog, I was never really feeling it. So I decided to do something about it. I thought, a new job, a new city, an amazing fellowship could all be mine with some perseverance, prayer, and the hardball determination. But that all turned out to be a bust, and some of my closest friends and my family can tell you, I did NOT handle it well.

So I withdrew to recoup and mourn the loss of what I thought I wanted. In the process I made a few bad choices [retail therapy, an epically bad dating experience, more retail therapy] and one phenomenal choice. I didn't realize at the time that that one decision would lead to a moment of sharing, and that the result of both would alter the course of my life.

But here I type, life course completely and forever altered.

It's finally happened y'all.

Wildcard

I'm not the type of person who does things with explicitly clear intentions. In general, I tend to do things [or not do things] because the mood strikes me to do so [or not], and the outcomes of such actions or in actions are often not major concern.  I'm not sure if it's one of my biggest flaws or strongest attributes, #kanyeshrug. That's not to say that I'm reckless. I'm probably one of the biggest squares you'll ever meet, so activities of an illicit or "poor life choices that will land you in a starring role of a lifetime movie" nature don't appeal to me. I just felt that I should clarify.

I mention this lack of clear intention for my actions, because this past Saturday evening was my pole competition, and before the show started, my fellow contestants and I were required to fill out a brief bio for the MC to read to during the show: Name, occupation, length of time pole dancing, and last but not least, "why I want to be Miss Xpose Fitness". As you can probably imagine, I had absolutely no idea how to answer this question. 

It's My Blogiversary!

This week marks the 2nd anniversary of Eat, Read, Rant! Can you believe it? I've come a long way in the two years since I started this blog--which was catalyzed by a poorly timed break up during Snowmegeddon of 2010. In that time, I've grown as a foodie, grown as a writer [which ain't sayin much], grown as a photographer [that says even less], made new friends, connected with old friends in new ways, taken life changing vacations-twice, made declarations of epic and ridiculous proportions, started a small business, been pushed to the edge of sanity, laughed, cried, screamed, danced, failed, succeeded and ate, boozed, read, and ranted my through most of it.

Contrary to what I've convinced myself to believe, it's actually been a good two years. Life is hard, but I'm still standing, I'm still blogging, and most importantly, I'm still pushing forward. I'm unsure of what the next two years might bring, but I'm definitely excited ;-)

¡Besos!

30 Before 30. An update

¡Hola Lovers!

¿Guess what I'm doing el sábado próximo [next Saturday]?

I'm crossing #17 off my 30 before 30(+3) list, and performing in the Miss Xpose Fitness Preliminary competition! Holy shitballs!

I'm kinda freakin' about it at this point. I haven't performed in any capacity since I was like 23. And I've NEVER performed by myself, let alone scantily clad, wearing hooker heels, and twirling around a pole. And my mom is going to be there. I just fessed up to Linda this Christmas what exactly I've been up to at my "women's gym" for the last two years...and she's wasn't thrilled about my extracurricular activities. So yeah, I'm freakin' out.

And with 9 days to go, I'm still making big changes to my routine, impatiently waiting on my performance shoes and accessories to be delivered, still searching for silver booty shorts that aren't indecently short, and have developed what is likely to be tendinitis in my dominant arm. #freakingthefuckoutrightnow.

Such is my life. I may or may not get to post before the competition, and since I've stacked the audience with many of my friends and family, I'm hoping to get a few good pictures from the event, which I will of course share with you.

Until then, I'll leave you with some pics that would surely horrify my mom :D

I'm a Skinny Bitch & Paula Deen has Diabeetus!

*Disclaimer* If you hadn't guessed by the title, there's some choice profanity sprinkled throught this post. You've beeen warned.

So I’m a skinny bitch, Paula Deen has diabetes, and neither one of use are having the best week ever! Unless you’ve been trapped underground for the last 7 days, you’ve probably heard by now that Paula Deen publicly announced last week that she has Type 2 Diabetes.  This should come as a surprise to no one.  If you’re my friend on Facebook, you may or may not have seen a really bitchy status I posted two weeks ago, in response to a “plus size” girl calling me a skinny bitch.  She meant it to be funny, but I was not amused.  I’m sure you’re wondering what my inability to take a joke has to do with Paula Deen but I assure you, I’ll get to that.

So let’s go back to 2 weeks ago, when I saw some bullshiggity of epic proportion on my Facebook feed. A friend posted a rant about his frustration about hearing that his women friends have been told they need to be a normal weight, and questioned what exactly a “normal weight” is. I briefly responded, leading with my public health credentials, that there is in fact a such thing as a “normal weight”, and seeing as how this nation is facing an epidemic of overweight and obesity—which are the biggest driving forces behind the skyrocketing costs of healthcare—obviously far too many people don't fit into that normal category [pun intended]. A third party then responded to the thread with, and I quote,

“I always hear it from my doctor; "Miss Iliketowearshinygoldleggings, you are healthy and strong as an ox....but maybe you should consider more exercise and diet because at your age and height....bla...h blah blah".  I'm healthy, no joint issues, everything is where it should be.....so what's the problem???? I look damn good and I don't wanna be a skinny chick. Research shows that people with more body fat tend to be happier as far as personality goes. Why? (MoNique voice) Skinny bitches are evil! They hungry all the damn time!! Lmao”

Perfecting Perfection

Meatless Monday will be back once I stop eating EVERYTHING. 'Tis the season to be greedy, am I right?!

Speaking of the holidays, guess what's baaaaack! Brownies and Blondies! You may remember that several months ago I ventured into selling these treats on Etsy. I made a few sales, learned a few things and my life went a bit hectic and trying to get my little brownie business off the ground had to take a back burner. Well that is no longer the case. Things have settled and I'm back in business. During my time "off" I did some thinking about my core product, my piéce de résistance, my Beurre Noisette brownies. To date, the recipe that I use is awesome, regardless of if I flub the execution or not, the brownies are always slap yo' mama good. But as a very small business trying to make an name (and some cash) in the big world of Etsy, I realized that there is always room for improvement, and that even perfection can be perfected.

Now I'm no fool, when it comes to baking, I know there's very little room for change in measurements and proportions. Well actually, that's not true, because it took one "failed" batch of brownies [my roommate and I still ate them, trust!] to really learn not to play around with the measurements. Instead, I've learned to upgrade my ingredients. A brownie may be a humble confection, but even the humble deserve a luxury upgrade. And by luxury I mean Valrhona cocoa powder,  Kerrygold Irish butter, and toasted walnuts. And I have to say, the upgrades were worth the investment!

And in the spirit of giving, I'm offering 25% off any purchase in my Etsy shop, Browned Butter Sweets to my blog readers with the promo code EatReadRant. I'm in the process of revamping all of my recipes and photos, so I'll keep you updated on that progress. The above promotional code doesn't expire, and I have to say these brownies make great gifts!

NomNom, folks. And happy shopping!

When did that happen?!

You know how you take a break from blogging one day, and 21 days later you still haven't blogged? What about when you go on weekend trips, and start off taking pictures of everything with the intention of blogging about your trip, but then you drink 6 or so mimosas at brunch and fear that you're too drunk to safely handle your expensive camera, thus taking 0 pictures after the first few hours of said boozy brunch? How about when you share your absurd 30 before 30 list, and want to talk about some of the progress you've made only to have very little photographic evidence of such progress? And don't even get me started on the back log of recipes to blog about. No really, don't get me started, there aren't that many recipes backlogged, I've been suffering from serious foodie's block. Add to all of these things a big move and new roommates and what you've got is ME!

But you know how it goes, some days you feel like a nut, and some days you feel like drinking a bottle of wine with your new roommate. ¡Salud! There is much to be said about change, especially when it's change for the better, but why talk when I can show. If you will, here's my life in pictures, I promise some of these things I will get around to blogging about it...eventually.

Finally trying the famous Woodberry Kitchen for big sister's birthday. It lives up to all the hype and then some. I must return!

The Most Interesting Woman in the World

The Dos Equis Man may very well be the most interesting man in the world, but where is his female counterpart? Actually, during my pre-move, "must clear off my DVR before I move marathon" of Oprah Presents Master Class [among other shows], I concluded that Condoleezza Rice is a strong contender for that title. While I almost entirely and vehemently disagree with her politics, I still find her to be profoundly fascinating and, dare I say it, an inspiration. That revelation acted as a tipping point of sorts. You see, throughout this 2xth year of my life, I've been pondering "what the fudge have I done with my life?" and "how exactly am I going to take over the world? what am I supposed to do with the rest of it?" ad nauseam. Damnit, it was suppposed to feel good to be a gangsta! But I've been feeling neither good, nor like a gangsta. What happened to me??! But Condy's riveting story and life lessons planted a seed in my head, and gave me the push I needed to acknowledge what I do want out of life, and then to go for it, full steam ahead.

From Spain with Love

I carry Spain in my heart. Every. Single. Day. This much, you know is true. Do you know how I know that you know this about me?

Because more than a few people have told me that whenever they hear or see some reference to Spain, they think of me. That makes me feel loved. And I need a lot of love these days. Lots of it. And I need a car. And a roommate. And a place to live. But I literally don't have the energy to talk about that sh*tf*ckery today. Ugh.

But back to you knowing me and my Spain.

So my friend and fellow epicurean blogger (and fellow Blue Hen, go UD!) Keeley over at My Life on a Plate totally put me on to my newest food tv obsession, From Spain with Love. It comes on the Cooking Channel, which is by and large 8 bajillion times better than the Food Network. The moment she told me about the show (and that it reminded her of me) I added it to my DVR. Because I DVR food shows all the time. That's totally normal, right?? *nervous laugh* This past weekend, the first in which I was not contractually obligated to be reading a Harry Potter book and/or celebrating a Leo's birthday, I finally  had the chance to watch the show. And sure enough, I LOVE it. But there's a twist to this story. You see, I don't actually have the Cooking Channel on my satellite f*ck comcast! package. When Keeley told me about it, I just happened to have a free preview of it for a few weeks. And then one day, like Kaizer Soze, the Cooking Channel was gone and I was left destitute and alone with only the Food Network to sustain yet not entertain me. Whatever is a Jersey girl, who is going to move to Spain, and totally obsessed with watching good food television to do?! Well it turns out, I can simply do laundry at my sister, Odichi's house and watch it there, because she also thought of me when she saw it, and promptly added it to her DVR! Now that, my friends is love. Hermanas rock!

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The Road Twice Traveled

If you had told me on this very day last year, as I was practically bursting with excitement, flitting around BWI's Airport with my sister and two of my best friends as we embarked on our amazing journey to Spain and Morocco, that I would return to Spain for a second time just ten months later, I probably would have believed you. If you had told me that I would vow to move to Spain (as did Alihah) after that first trip, I would likely have believed that too. I mean, who wouldn't vow the same thing after two weeks in Europe, most people have that reaction. Besides, I was very serious when I made this declaration, which I actually originally made in 2005, following my 5 glorious weeks of study abroad in Italy. However, in both instances when I made these declarations, something was missing and I'm not talking about the really important details of HOW, WHEN, WHERE or the fact that I speaka only English [for now]. They were missing something that made them real, something that tapped into the heart of the matter.  This missing something is probably, if not definitely, the reason why even after having declared my intentions to semi-permanently part ways with the U.S. of A for a second time last year, I failed to actually start my research on the mechanics of such a move.

It's My Birthday, and I'll Pole if I Want To!

So today is my birthday. And I'll pole if I want to, because poling makes me happy, and I need happy. I'm sure you've noticed, I've been absent on the blog, and when I haven't been absent, I've been a bit meloncholy. I'm hoping that will go away soon, and in an effot to beat the "my life kinda sucks blues", I have decided to throw myself entirely into activities that make me feel better, mainly the blog and the pole. I've already begun to immerse myself more in my poling, and recently attended two pole jam/workshops. And what would a pole post be without pictures? If ever I deserved a "yay" for progress, this would be it. Check out the before and after (pics below). 

This is a cross ankle release on a 45mm chrome pole. I'm still working on it on the 50mm brass pole we use at my studio, but I know I can get it.

A Timeout Was in Order

I'll be the first person to admit that I have a short attention span. In fact, some would go as far to say I have a mild case of ADD, which seems to have gotten worse with age--and I might be inclined to agree. But I pride myself on being able to focus long enough to get the important things done, especially at the very last minute, because I'm procrastinator. But this week, while working on an application for a possible future endeavor that I won't expand upon, I just could not focus.  Before I knew it, I was staring at my computer Thursday evening, having made practically zero progress on my essays in days.  And so I did what any responsible aspiring young professional did when facing a Monday deadline. I decided to put myself in timeout, threw on my coat and boots, and trudged through snow covered side walks to the fancy wine store around the corner from my apartment.  I figured since I was unable to put intelligent words on my computer screen, I could at least put some quality wine in my pantry, and my belly (cue Ron Burgundy). When I got to the store, I told them what I was looking for, and had a very "Say Yes to the  Dress Wine" experience. I ended up going home a a slightly buttery, unoaked chardonnay and an award winning Chilean Carmenere. According to the woman in the store, it was steal for the price, and she made me promise to come back and tell her how what I thought of it. Upon returning home, I took my little timeout one step further, and marinated a pork loin--details on that later. And then it happened. I had a glass of wine, and the words started flowing. I was able to produce about 75% of my essay that very night. It just what I needed to power through to the next day to complete and submit my application 3 whole days before it was due. Sha-zaam!

I decided to save this for a special occasion

And with my application submitted Friday evening, I was able to enjoy a FABULOUS weekend that included a girl's night out for Baltimore Restaurant week (blog post coming), a ridiculously good pork loin (blog post coming) AND a few surprises for y'all in the near future!

Consider this my apology for my absence :-)

10 Things I Hate....A Rant Story

Hola Guapas. I know, it's been far too long since my last post, I apologize, but I just haven't been feeling it lately. And by feelin it, I mean feeling anything. It's like I've been walking around with a personal storm cloud above my head that keeps snuffing out my will to do anything other exist and watch hours of mindless reality TV [Thursdays=Jersey Shore... oh yeah!]. I'm not a fan of this feeling, so right now I'm taking proactive measures to get my shit together. And my first step, is to let off a little steam. Hence, I bring you A Rant Story...

*Disclaimer*
Lots of profanity laced ranting about really random stupid shit that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of life is about to ensue. Lots. You've been warned...

1. Flip flops on men outside of the beach. Men wearing flip flops in any other setting really makes me cringe. I dunno maybe I've seen 10 too many men with ugly ass, finger-like toes with black or yellow nails, fungus crusted, runaway slave looking man-feet in raggedy ass flip flops walking around college campuses and/or Baltimore City to last me a lifetime. To the white guy in Starbucks--how is it even possible for your feet to look like a runaway slave's?! Do you understand how traumatic it was to see that shit just out in the open? I literally almost threw up on the fucking floor! The only thing worse than ugly man feet+raggedy ass flip flops is ugly man-feet+raggedy ass flip flops in jeans/slacks/suit. For this crime you deserve to be publicly beaten with a pair of dress shoes by men far more fashionable than you!!


2. People, far too often women, who don’t dress appropriately for their size. And I’m not talking about the ig’nant ass debate about whether plus size women can wear skinny jeans [some can, most can’t, but I’ll not delve into that]. I’m talking about the shit observed on websites like People of Walmart, Hot Ghetto Mess, and various facebook albums and groups nationwide, where various excess body parts [back rolls, stretch marks, side boob, front butt, etc] are either hanging outside of their clothing, or protruding through their extra medium outfit. These bitches and ninjas should know they are dead ass wrong, and quite frankly, I consider that shit to be indecent fucking exposure.  But somehow, they always seem blissfully ignorant of their hot mess situations, if not defiant of social norms and mores. To the woman in Walmart last week, whose breasts were at minimum a G cup spilling out of what appeared to be a D cup bra [no bullshit!] yes bitch, I did just look at you dirty for looking a hot ass mess! Go find yourself a damn bra in your size, and until then, have the decency to wear a big chunky sweater so I cannot clearly see the outline of that small ass bra you squeezed yourself in. Matter fact--how did you even get it closed in the back?? One of these days, this shit is going to land me in a fight. And I'll scratch a bitches eyes out...

3. Fox News Channel. I can respect a politically conservative point of view [albeit, I'm a liberal/progressive/yellow belly bleedin' heart democrat, and proud the fuck of it]. I’m just as worried about the damn deficit and national security just like everyone else. But Fox News is a feeding ground for pure shiggity, bigotry, ignorance, and unpatriotic levels of ridamndiculousness and Obama bashing Every. Single. Day. Glenn Beck, Bill O’Reilly, Star Parker, Rush Limbaugh, Anne Coulter, Sean Hannity, Michelle Malkin and crew can KICK. FUCKIN’. ROCKS. You all are miserable souls, and GOD DON’T LIKE UGLY!

4. Bad drivers. The turn signal was invented for a fucking reason, SO BLOODY USE YOURS! If I am a pedestrian, and you are making a turn, I HAVE THE RIGHT OF FUCKIN WAY YOU TRICK ASS WHORE! I declare, if I have to dodge one more turning vehicle in Baltimore city, I’m gonna fuckin lose it! WHY DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE A RIGHT turn expeditiously?! You are NOT supposed to come to a complete stop in order to turn, MOVE BITCH! Asian drivers—you suck. Women drivers—you suck. Men drivers—this is NOT the fast and the fucking furious, get over yourselves! A merge lane means GET YOUR ASS THE FUCK OVER BEFORE the lane runs out, you lazy piece of trash! WHY WHY WHY don’t people know how to drive?

5. The Baltimore City accent. No, I’m not “Frum Baltimo’ ”, I’m from Jersey bitch, where we learned how to speak a better brand of English, even in Camden. Kona is a cute dog, not a cute dug! Why do y’all just sound plain illiterate?*
*all of the Baltimore natives that I’m friends with don’t sound like this, at all. They may have a twang, because Maryland is, after all, south of the Mason-Dixon, but their accents don’t make my insides cringe.

6. Speaking of speaking—people who just don’t know how to speak or write the English language properly. Learn how to properly conjugate your damn verbs, user proper tenses, etc! Why do you not know the difference between their, there, and they’re?! Irregardless is NOT A FUCKING WORD. This rage now extends to facebook status because “dis” “dey” “ma” “swag” etc have been used far too egregiously and indicate that you may not know the proper way to write English anymore (or if ever). What the fuck were y’all doing in school all those years? Every time you open your mouth and massacre the English language, God murders a puppy! Go read a book and save the puppies!

7. People who would be quick to call me a snobby/bougie bitch because of the previous two bullet points. And to you I still say go read a book—and not that bullshit from Zane or Eric Jerome dickey if you're over the age of 20. Go read grown up books, The Audacity of Hope is a good place to start. Now runtelldat, homeboy!

8. People who refuse to try anything new. Xenophobia is not a good look and I just have zero patience for close minded bullshit. It’s one thing to know what you like, being comfortable with what's familiar, and being apprehensive about new things.  But it's another thing to be staunchly against learning/experiencing/doing anything outside of the familiar. It's no bueno, I can't tolerate it, and you will be left behind.

9. People who suck at life in general. You know who I’m talking about. Those folks that don’t have the sense God gave a goose, consistently make BAD DECISIONS, don’t learn lessons, and then wonder why their life is always a hot ass mess. Folks who are too weak to stand on their own two feet, and always need some body's help. And my least favorite, the people who just can’t handle the stresses of life, and fall apart every other week, and use coping vices like cigarettes, sex, alcohol, or shopping to make themselves feel better, as if the E! True Hollywood Story hasn’t taught us that those sort of behaviors are ALWAYS a recipe for disaster. I used to have a friend or two who exhibited these qualities. Notice I said, “used to”…

10. My job search. It's seems to be never ending. the more research I do, the less qualified I feel, and I'm smack in the middle of a slump. I've let two job postings expire before submitting my resume. I just couldn't muster up the energy to submit my resume. I'm not feeling this "feeling". Hopelessness, apathy, and self doubt seem to be stalking me. And they are pissing me the fuck off! I'm tired of having to give myself a pep talk just to get through the work day. Tired of being grateful to have just have a job. I've been grateful for two damn years, it's time for a new job! SO FUCK THIS! FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

I kinda feel better. Kinda.

I'm So Great!(?)...or So I've Been Tagged..

I'm so great? I can do anything good? I've been tagged by one of my favorite bloggers, Maddy from The Maddy Chronicles in a challenge to state six positive things about myself.  My initial reaction is that I'm super flattered that Maddy would shout me out on her awesome blog [which if you haven't already checked it out, you should, if only for the amazing pictures that's made me vow to take a photography class]. My second thought, was pure horror. I've always silently avoided these sorts of challenges, for fear that I wouldn't be able come up with an required number of positive statements about myself. Yeah..I'm very critical of myself. But, since I've been explicitly asked to participate in this challenge and I know that it's a a very healthy thing to do, I've decided to take the plunge:

1. I'm a planner extraordinaire, I make lists, I check them twice, I cross things off, I move forward. Now of course I don't always make continuous progress through my lists, but I understand that if I write it down, it will happen eventually, and therefore quitting is NEVER an option. Like when I opened a savings account specifically named "Barcelona" two summers ago, I had no idea when it was going to Spain, but as you know now, my heart is in Barcelona!

I even keep my to do list on my google homepage! I just got my Rosetta Stone for Spanish, between the blog, Spain and networking I've made 4-6 new friends, and I know that "A job that excites me" will happen when it's supposed to, I just know it!

2. I'm loyal, possibly to a fault. Seriously. Even though I grumble about it sometimes, I would do anything for my family, and my friends too. They know they can count on me when they need me. It can be exhausting sometimes, but I don't even know how not to be loyal like that. Anytime I've ever I've had to remove a person from my life, it wasn't something I took lightly, and the person was really REALLY sucky for me to get to that point.

3. I'm Adventurous. There are many many things that I'll say, "Sure, why not!" to. Like going to Morocco because we're gonna be in the south of Spain, it's right there, and those guys we met in Paris said Marrakech is a must see! Or getting on the banana boat ride in Puerto Rico. Or touching a snake in the square in Marrakech. Or going to that haunted house in bumble fuck, Delaware. Unless the adventure blatantly involves serious risks to my life, my biggest fears, or nasty food, the odds are I'll do it. I've learned some lessons via this method--like I do NOT like haunted houses, that's gonna be a "NO" for the rest of my life...

I realized AFTER I signed my life away that I had NO idea what I was doing! But it as Awsome! Puerto Rico '08

4. I'm Decisive. My thought processes involve a systematic elimination of what I don't want, determining exactly what I do want, and then unwaveringly focusing on finding/achieving exactly that. I rarely have a hard time coming to a concrete decision.

5. I'm Entertainingly Cynical. I'm not your average Negative Nadette. The glass may be half empty as far as I'm concerned, but rest assured I have something snarky, if not wildly inappropriate to say about it. And when it's all said and done, I still appreciate the sight of roses, yellow ones especially, but I'm not stopping to smell them, because only silly optimists asking for a bee sting and a nose full of pollen participate in such activities.

6. I Can Cook. DUH! Considering my friends are always trying to make me cook for them, and a few of them have actually tricked me into doing it, I can confidently say that I kinda know what I'm doing when it comes to food. And even when I don't, it's usually still edible.

I catered my apartment warming party last summer. The food was a hit!

So I'm tagging all of my readers in this challenge. List 6 positive things about yourself, I'm listening! Oh and more on Spain & Morocco to come, trust!

Hola Guapas!

I'm baaaaack! The wayward blogger has returned from España and Morocco! Did you miss me?? Hopefully you did a little bit, but not too much, because quite honestly, I was having such a ridiculously good time, that I didn't think miss much of anything from home (except the poodle and my favorite blogs, of course).  I do apologize for taking so long to get back to the blog, seeing as how I've been stateside since Thursday evening, and had ample opportunity over the weekend to put a post together. But I was (and still am) suffering from the "back to my harsh American reality" blues and the transition has actually been really hard. But enough of that, I'm sure you want to hear all about my trip. Obviously, I can't blog about 15 days of bliss in one post, so here's my trip in a nutshell.

El Viaje
Barcelona (5 days), Madrid (3 days), El Puerto de Santa Maria (4 days), Marrakech, Morocco (3 days).
Planes, Trains, y Automobiles
15 days, 9 airports, 2 trains, 2 rental cars, 10 metros, countless taxis, and more stairs than I though possible. And our bags made it through every connection! [Jesus love me, this I know!]
Memorable Highlights:
Running full speed with our bags to the furthest gate in Amsterdam's massive airport to make our connection to Barcelona. I re-injured my strained foot, but we made our connection!
About 30 of the sexiest Spanish Military Servicemen in Madrid's Airport. I would've taken a picture, but it seemed like a bad idea.
Getting pulled over en route from Madrid to El Puerto de Santa Maria for a DWB (driving while black). It was kinda funny, but it kinda wasn't.
Did you know that in Spain, the it's perfectly normal to pass a vehicle in the lane of opposing traffic? Playing chicken on the winding roads of the Spanish countryside really gets your adrenaline pumping, lol...
The 4 hour siesta of the RENTAL CAR counter at the train station. No Bullshit!

benedryl is a flyer's best friend!

flight 1 of 3, España bound!

Barcelona we have arrived!

Thank God for these nifty suitcases. 7 flights down to leave our Madrid apt!

are you serious?! we have an 8 hour drive to valencia, and it's 13:30!

¡Bienvenido a España!

Guapos, Jamon, Cigarette smoke, Flirting, and Shopping! Let me put it this way, our first night out, we came home at 6:30 am. The sun doesn't set till after 10pm. The Spaniards love them some ham, don't seem to know what a vegetable is, smoke like chimneys EVERYWHERE, drink like fish, don't speak English, have more sexy men (guapos) in more square mile than all of the midatlantic, party till dawn, stare at black people, dance in the streets, and still make me feel like I've been living in the wrong country and I need to move. 16 month plan in the works!

first night out in Barcelona. Yes, that's the sun rising, lol

they were soooo cute! dancing in the streets of Barcelona

Barcelona Futbol Club!

Our first night in El Peurto de Santa Maria where we stayed with my cousin (crazy person in the back)

dinner in El Peurto!

Bienvenue au Maroc!
Le Bain de Marrakech Spa=heaven, leather, spices, mint tea, sexy men, damn it's hot, and camel rides! 
Marrakech was more beautiful and enjoyable than I could have ever imagined. The Moroccans went out of their way to make us feel welcomed and at home. As a Nigerian American, it felt really good to be in Northern Africa and know that the people are fiercely proud Africans who were warm, charming, of course hospitable, all while still being loud and pushy Africans. I felt safer on the tiny streets of the Marrakech while dodging motor bikes and donkey carts than I did in our sketchy neighborhood in Madrid. If Morocco weren't a Muslim nation and therefore a DRY nation, I would consider moving there. It was exoticly homey, I loved it!

Our Riad in Marrakech

Family picture, lol

You know I bought spices, right?

My smack talking camel. I named her Bettina, turns out her name was Julie

Henna!

3 hours of bliss=105 euro=I will be going back!

La Comida 
Deserves an entire post by itself. A few pics until then

World Cup 
So as fate would have it, we were actually in Morocco during the final game. But still, we had an awesome time watching the game broadcast in Arabic, made new British friends and were surrounded by Spain fans. Sure we missed the party in Madrid, but we still had a good time!

¡Viva España!

Los Recuerdos
Will last a lifetime. I couldn't have asked for better company. And as God as my Witness, I'm going back to Spain and Morocco. SOON!

Familia

That's all for now ladies and gents. More posts to come! Oh and I definitely got blog gifts, so if you aren't already, please be sure to become a follower via blogger, facebook, or blog lovin' to be eligible to win!