Las Ramblas Is Spanish For "Watch Your Purse"

Might as well share with you the last of the Barcelona pictures, right? What else better do you have to do? Don't answer that.

Where the magic happens.

In case you are in the market for something other than a hamster.

Who doesn't love a good food market? 

Most beautiful booth ever.

Bridesmaids make their friends do crazy things all around the world apparently.

Hooray hidden jack-o-lanterns among the produce!

Pinterest has really done wonders for my light fixture obsession. Please admire these bad boys.

I see you!

Adios, Espana!

Guadi's Architectual Fairytale

In the George Costanza "I'm an architect!" secret dream profession sort of way, Antonio Guadi is my hero.



There are few people who have so masterfully captured that creepy creative feeling for mass success (Dr. Seuss and Tim Burton for example), but looking at his works of art around the city, there is no denying that Guadi has left his mark on the world with his Barcelona buildings.

His whimsical style is the only thing I remember from my first trip to there, the last stop on a month-long "backpacking" tour of Europe. Considering I was also suffering from the most painful third-degree sun burn slash sun poisoning I got a few days earlier in Southern France, I have pretty much blocked out everything else, but boy were those buildings awesome.

Here are a few of the photos from his Park Guell and only one lame one from Sagrada Familia because I was not really in the picture-taking mood when we stopped by. But really, I hope you can see them for yourself one day, because I promise these snapshots don't do them any justice.

Someone got a little crazy with her photo editing...

These parrots are fellow Guadi enthusiasts.

Barcelona (Part Uno Of As Many As I Can Stretch It Out To)

Three generations palling around Spain.

Okay enough about The German, let me tell you how the rest of my trip with my mom and grandma went.

I have to say, I love spending time with both of them. They are two of my best friends. But like any close female relative relationship, there are only so many "Do you think my purse is going to be safe??" questions I can handle before the eye-rolling ensues.

I think living in large urban cities like New York and Berlin has left me with a constant, subconscious surveillance of my surroundings versus a periodic panic about my safety, as is the case when you are a visitor in a foreign land. This was coupled with my mistake of warning them that while Germans are a civilized people, Spaniards shouldn't be trusted (based a few '07 backpacking trip compadres getting pick-pocketed on the Metro). It resulted in borderline paranoia.

My mom at the Berlin airport: "Take off your money belt when you go through security so it doesn't look like you have a bomb strapped to you." Dolo: "Good idea." Me: "Why the hell are you need to wear a money belt on the airplane? Dolo: "So we are secure when we get off the plane." Me: "What do you possibly think will happen at the arrival gate?" God love 'em.

So with the exception of our taxi driver's Catalan road rage and the fact he failed to put on the parking break on our hilly hotel street and we started to roll backward after he got out, it was smooth sailing. Or at least nothing that could have been prevented from wearing that damn money belt. (I just cannot get past how sticking your hands down your pants to fetch a few euros is a better idea than a wallet, but whatever, I will get on with my life.)

Anyway, I love those crazy ladies and will miss having them around to iron my clothes and laugh at my stories. But I was glad to have the opportunity to explore Barcelona together before they set sail on their Mediterranean cruise, especially since Dolo has been dying to visit Spain since like forever. When we landed she said, “It’s like I’m meant to be here.” Yes, Dolo, in another life you might have been Spanish. I mean, her name is Dolorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrres after all.

And to make the trip even more fun, my UT KKG pal Ellen flew up from Southern Spain where she is teaching English. Last spring when she got accepted into a program, I made my gchat away message “Barcelona 2012” in hopes that I might be able to come visit. Who would have thought that it would come true (a few months early) because I would already be living in Europe? No one, that's who. 

Since we were only there for a short time, we decided to see it all. Being kind of a tourist snob, I usually turn my nose up at site seeing rides, but mi madre had heard that the hop on hop off buses were the way to go. With great weather (much warmer than what I’ve been dealing with in Berlin, I forgot how much I prefer it), it was a perfect decision.

Here are a few photos:                                                                                

Our chariot. Or one of the 1000 identical buses.

Beautiful buildings, beautiful landscape, beautiful weather.

Because there are not enough creepy pictures of me on the Internet.

A cathedral. It was surprisingly old as well as beautiful. Really don't make 'em like they used to, huh?

The inside was also old and pretty.

I was obsessed with this paint job. Guess I wasn't the only one.

False advertising. What I wouldn't do for some legit migas right about now.

Surprise archaeology tour? Why not. Thanks for being way cooler than just a bunch of old things in glass boxes, Barcelona History Museum.

Don't those things look like dinosaur eggs? Well they are not. The Romans used them to make a weird fish bone sauce. Tasty!

That's all for now. Considering my lack of blogworthy activities this week, I've decided to break up the pictures for your viewing pleasure. How thoughtful, I know. It's like I am trying to be a real blogger or something. Don't get used to it. Or I'll go back to fawning all over The German. I have some great stories about us holding hands in public. Too much, I know! 

Meet The German

Alternate titles for this post could also be:

• "You Have Never Dated Anyone So Good looking"
• Who Knew My Grandma Could Smile That Big  
• He Came Back From Florida With A Tan And Ostrich Cowboy Boots And All He Brought Me Was A Perfect Sand Dollar Because He Knows How Much I Like The Ocean, He Is So Thoughtful And This Is Just A Hidden Attempt At Braggery

Of all the years I lived in New York, none of the guys I dated overlapped with parental visits. On purpose mostly, but also because not a single guy would have been able to handle it. Not that my parents are too much to handle (although they are just the right amount of idiosyncratic to be hilarious), but I knew the way Peter Pan minds worked: Meeting the parents is one step away from Committing to Eternity. Not the case in my book, but whatever. Sorry I like my parents and thought you might too, gosh!

So when The German had stuck around long enough to be in the picture when my mom and Dolo were here, I knew he was the only tourist attraction that they really cared about seeing. And I figured he could handle it. He is a very good sport. 

We planned on dinner for Wednesday night, and I asked everyone what kind of cuisine they preferred. My mom thought having German with The German would be good, but I kept trying to explain to her that going to Berlin for “German” food was like going to New York and asking for “American.” I mean, what is considered American, a hot dog?  Same rings true here. Except in this case, the "delicacy" is currywurst, literally sliced up hot dog smothered with curry-flavored ketchup. It is something you would eat as a small child, except not nearly as good as a corndog, my favorite food from youth.

So instead I settled on a Thai restaurant, suggested by a friend from work. And it turned out to be the perfect choice. The food was great, as they say, sharing (entrees) is caring, and everyone enjoyed themselves.

My family was on good behavior (conversation topics stayed within the sanctioned parameters I had previously deemed appropriate) and they of course adored him, especially since he is a “smile talker” according to my mom. Whatever that means. But either way, I was not surprised by the glowing reviews considering he is probably the most charming guy in all of Germany.*

(*Solidified by him picking me up from the airport.)

P dot S: I told The German that the picture from dinner my mom posted on Facebook received a comment from my dad's cousin (hi!) asking if this was "The German." Ha. I asked him now that his "secret" identity has been compromised if I could post the picture here. He decided that you need to do a little detective work if you want to find it, you know, to keep the mystery alive. 

Perhaps one day he will relent. Either way, just so you know, the following descriptions have been shared with me via email from my Facebook stalking friends: "He's so cute! And SO tan!" and "He is SO goodlooking...like... derek zoolander model good looking."

I mean, normally I am not so vain that physical appearance means that much to me (obviously talking about guys I date, not my own vanity because, duh, that is of paramount importance!), but when in Rome Berlin why not?

A Real Gem

My plan last evening upon returning home from my Barcelona flight to was to blog about the remainder of my mom and Dolo's Berlin adventures (which included dinner with The German) and our fun weekend in Spain.

That all changed when I walked out of baggage claim to find The German waiting for me. Swoon. I had emailed him before I left letting him know that if he picked me up from the airport he would become my favorite German ever. Apparently this suggestion ruined his surprise plan to fetch me. (I am the worst.) So instead of admitting then that he had already thought of the idea, he did not respond to that portion of the email. I didn't know what to think. Actually, I do know what I thought...he's just as bad as the rest of them. But he's not, he's wonderful, and there he was, dealing with the worst airport ever, just to see me. Sigh.

Anyway, not that the surprise pick-up wasn't great, but the best part of the night was actually this conversation:

Me: So when you are in Florida, I bet people know your family as "The Germans."
Him: Yeah, I bet you are right.
Me: You want to know what Americans say about Germans? Like, what the number one stereotype is?
Him: Yes, tell me.
Me: [laughing] That everyone is obsessed with David Hasselhoff.
Him: [Very serious] Because we are. 

Just more proof that a lot of stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. He did, however, clarify that the obsession stems from his earlier work and not his current persona. He also made it known that we Americans should be ashamed of ourselves for not loving Looking for Freedom. Something to think about on this
Monday.

Unrelated, but upon searching for pictures of The Hoff for this post, I found this:

I think it's safe to say I can never look at a Shar Pei the same way again. Shudder.

For Your Reading Pleasure: Mindy Kaling

This week has pretty much consisted of me going to work, leaving my mom and grandma to fend for themselves (in the rain, no less), and then coming home to meet them for dinner. Since I can't take part in their during-the-day entertainment, last night I figured a good way to impress them was to whip up a delicious meal of creamy tomato soup and grilled goat cheese sandwiches. It was a big hit. Then I realized another good thing to do is to let them think I invented dipping aforementioned sandwiches into aforementioned soup because everyone likes to learn something new. Our girl is a genius. I mean, obviously.

Anyway, since I don't have much to offer you in terms of real stories, here are a few funny things written by Mindy Kaling to entertain you in place of some anecdote about something awkward I did that one time:

Her take on "Flick Chicks" in the New Yorker is hilarious. As is her new website/blog The Concerns of Mindy Kaling. Her first book Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, recently came out which I WILL be downloading on my iPad (hopefully) very soon. (Not having wireless internet in my apartment is a very difficult first-world problem I am having to overcome. I think it's helping me to become a bigger person.)

I like to think that Mindy and I would be friends in real life. Another person to add to my list of "Funny Women Who I Would Like To Get To Know Over Brunch."  Let me know if you want to be included in the reservation.

Tourist For A Day

Color coordinating produce really says "I care."

My mom and grandma arrived exhausted on Saturday evening. In an effort to really pack it in, they made the most of their seven hour lay over in Paris and left the airport to see the sites. Ambitious!

Since they both do such a good job of being hospitable when I visit, I made two trips to the store to stock up on sustenance for their week in Berlin. Taking into account all their traveling plus the threat of looming rain clouds, I figured a home-cooked meal was the way to go Saturday night. Plus this allowed me time to unwrap all of my online shopping and Halloween goodies hidden away in my mom's suitcase. Practically Christmas! (Speaking of, there are already holiday cookies and decorations in my supermarkt, um what, is this America??)

Sunday morning I woke up to continue my 24-hour effort of good hostessing (obviously this cannot continue during the work-week, who do you think I am, Martha Stewart??). For breakfast I made the red-pepper-eggs I tried out last weekend, this time topped with sauteed mushrooms and scallions. Nothing but the best for my family! I also attempted to make "mummies" aka crescent roll-wrapped sausages because I am dead-set on throwing an adorable Halloween party and things like this need practice. Obviously not one person will notice and/or care, but that doesn't matter. (This is a clear indicator of Pinterest addiction in case you need concrete examples for my intervention..or Pin-tervention. Bwahaha. That is another example.)

Far superior to most B&B breakfast spreads. And please notice how my centerpiece has grown. Hooray fall!

My mustard eyes need work. These are the things that keep me up at night.

After a relaxing morning (of me stomping around impatiently ready to leave), we meandered our way through my neighborhood to the heart of Mitte.

My favorite building with my favorite Dolo.

Dolo was amendment that we do things that I hadn't done yet, which was pretty easy to do since I am the worst tourist ever. One thing on the top of my "If I only had time" list has been a boat cruise, and with the perfect blue sky weather, we figured why not. The best part about it, besides for the adorable captain flirting with Dolo - perhaps my new Opa?? - was the fact it was half English, half German so you only had to listen to 50% of one-hour. Otherwise known as "the length of our attention spans."

Actually, I take that back, the best thing about the cruise was that during this time, Dolo learned that she could extend the strap on her purse to use it like a cross-over bag. According to her, this is the greatest thing that has ever happened to her in her entire life. (With the exception of the time these horrible raccoons were removed from her attic and also the time she was elected to the School Board. I am sure you noticed and are appalled by the fact that the birth of her first grandchild is not included on this list. As you should be.)

At the bottom of the picture you can see The Purse in all its long-strapped glory.

Me and meine mutter. "We're on a boat!"

This is the building I talked about running past last weekend. Isn't it cool?

After the boat cruise, we scurried over to the Reichstag, aka where the German parliament sits, to make it in time for our reserved entrance into the glass dome. You have to sign up online days in advance for them to screen people (unfortunately something Ashley had learned the hard way) so I had made sure to submit our names ahead of time. Literally it could not have been more perfect timing considering it's closed for its annual windexing cleaning for the rest of the week. The views -outside and inside - were spectacular.

This view of me is less spectacular.

But this is cool, huh?

And this.

Brandenburg Gates, and behind it, the American Embassy (which looks a little prison-like from this view)

Me and my peeps. I am sporting my new cool military J.Crew coat in case you care.

My tiny little Oma.

From there we walked down the street to the Brandenburg Gates, which was fine and all, but then I saw this, the most amazing site I've seen in Germany so far:

Yes that is a French bulldog driving a horse-drawn carriage. Ah-maze-ing right?

With a few more hours of daylight, we hopped in a cab (after a brief almost-meltdown involving me and public transportation) and headed toward Schloss Charlottenburg. Although I do believe if you've seen one Baroque palace, you've seen 'em all, it was still pretty and interesting. (And, for the first 30 minutes of our audioguide tour, it was educational, but then we had to turn that off, because, like I mentioned, we all have the shortest attention spans.)

Here it is from the outside. Not too shabby for a lil' ol' summer home.

And here is an illegal picture I took (and got reprimanded for) in the inside. It has approximately "some number I heard but forgot" pieces of china decorating the walls. It was pretty sweet. 

All in all it was the perfect day of Berlin adventure. Now I just have to worry about them entertaining themselves for the next five days before we head to Barcelona. I feel like a working mother, stressed and guilty for leaving them at home, but what can you do, someone has to bring home the bacon. Fingers crossed they don't get in too much trouble!