Car Fads in Spain

I don't know about in the rest of Europe, but here in Spain, pimping your ride is very much in fashion. Driving around, you will see no end of "tuning" garages ready to convert your Seat Ibiza into a lean, mean, driving machine with blacked out windows (apart from the driver's as it is now illegal) extra large footpads, a souped up gear knob and other veritable treats.

I have noticed 2 new fads recently

1. Removing all signs of the make and model of your car - making your car kind of "white label". Why? Sometime you replace your original logos with the logos from other cars.

Note to people that do this: A Seat Ibiza is still a Seat Ibiza even if you stick a ferrari/lamborghini/porsche logo onto it

2. Painting on the rear of your car in fancy letters (preferably in silver or gold) the name of you and your loved one/pet dog/mum so that everyone knows whos in the car. Very Classy, Jesse and Julian in the black Seat Toledo.

And let's not forget the sound systems - any respectable "tuned" car has a full set of speakers, subwoofers and bass box so that eeeeeeeevvvvvvvvverrrrryyyyyyyyonnnnneeeeeeee can hear your garrulo music as you cruise through the streets with your windows open when it's 3ºC.

Oh - and this has now extended to motorbikes too - I was lucky enough to encounter a motorbike with its very own set of very loud speakers the other day. Luckily he was playing music I liked (what does that say about me?).

I'm hoping this is just a Spain thing

Eleven peculiarities

1. When I first moved to Barcelona I hated it
2. I started smoking at the tender age of 23 and gave up aged 24
3. I like to eat salt and vinegar crisps and chocolate, at the same time, in the same mouthful.
4. I am half Spanish but you wouldn't be able to tell just by looking at me.
5. My favourite cocktail is a Singapore Sling followed closely by a Tom Collins
6. I live within a 10 minute walk from my work and I still arrive late everyday
7. I failed my driving test. Twice. It wasn't my fault.
8. I have a phobia of bananas and creatures.
9. I think that one day I will win the lottery
10. I believe in ghosts
11. I have a thing for men with dark hair, blue eyes and irish accents. I just can't help myself.

It was okay in the end

Like I suspected - there were no surpises - no chocolates, flowers or fluffy teddy bears and only Loco's remorseful little face telling me how bad he felt as he knew how much I like Valentine's day but he tried and been unable to get any of the above gifts or find a table.

In my opinion he didn't try hard enough but anyway I think he learnt his lesson and with a bit more training I expect that my future Valentine's days will be much better. Or else.

In the end, after he coaxed me out of my sulk and out of my house, we found a table at a restaurant we'd never been to just round the corner (he got away with it by the skin of his teeth), where I was allowed to order whatever I wanted and whichever bottle of plonk took my fancy and he treated me to everything so it didn't turn out that bad after all.

In other news, Ireland's in town this week - I haven't decided whether to meet up with him or not. I'll keep you informed.

Am I the only person who like Valentine's Day?

Commercial it may be but I don't care. Flowers, chocolates, candlelit dinners, fluffy teddies, secret admirers - it all sounds rather nice to me.

Does Loco know about my love for all things Valentine? Hell yes he does. I have been prepping him since the last big present giving event.

So then, has he got the hint and organised something hopelessly romantic and soppy?
Hell.. no he bloody well hasn't. Unfortunately my friends, my prepping has gone very wrong.

Barcelona has the unfortunate luck of having the largest telecommunications fair going on over the Valentine period. This means that for the 3/4 days of the fair, all hotels, restaurants etc etc are booked up to the hilt - so you could say, a fair excuse for not being able to find a table for your loved one on the 14th February.

This may be true if you're loved one hadn't informed you of this potential problem months in advance and continually reminded you of it in the run up to Valentine's day. If this is the case then there is no excuse.

Yes - I am talking about little Loco - who only took it upon himself to try and reserve a table yesterday - and has been apologising profusely for his lack of Valentine's skills ever since. I am secretly hoping that this is all a front for a big surprise he has prepared, but deep down I know the truth is it is that he hasn't. And poor little me has to make do with an e-card. Loco thinks that taking me for dinner on Friday will make up for it, well let me tell you, unless he takes me for dinner in Paris - he has little hope of making up for his Valentine's day blunder and as punishment I shall bleat on about it for as long as I can away with.

Weekend Activities

Other than the blip my weekend was fine -

Friday night I went to the gym - what a loser I am - and I even went on the cross trainer (I hate HATE the cross trainer - this is for 2 reasons a) it's fucking hard work and makes me go red like a beetroot and b) I've fallen off before - more than one time - it's more common than you think!
No thigh machine though, I thought I'd work upper body this time and my upper body does not appreciate it.

On Saturday night, after enduring Ikea hell on a Saturday afternoon, we went for dinner with some of Loco's friends (couples) (note: Loco only has friends that come in couples), apart from one couple that I like, the rest are generally very boring and are also friends with Loco's ex which makes me feel a bit strange around them, wondering if they are going to go back and report to his ex - not that I should care.

On Sunday, I relaxed, playing buzz and singstar and watching the DVD of Loco's brother's wedding, and seeing his ex, who is skinny as a rake and thinking maybe I should use the thigh machine after all..

A blip

Last night I had my first (and hopefully last) anxiety/panic attack. It was very peculiar and a little bit scary, that suddenly out of nowhere and on the street (terribly un British), I started having difficulty breathing and started to half gasp half sob uncontrollably. Even Loco got scared watching me not being able to breathe or speak, clutching my chest and wheezing like a mad woman.

I'm not sure why it came about but I think it might have something to do with work. Loco thinks it's his fault and that he unconciously stresses me out. I don't know.

One camolmile tea,some rescue remedy drops and some higs and kisses later I felt better.

Everything is ok now. Just a blip.

Laziness

I don't know about you, but when I stumble across a blog that I think I like then I go back to the first post to see how it all came about.

Now, if you were to go to the beginning of my blog and start reading things may get confusing. This is because, basically, I am a lazy git. I half write a post, then I say to myself, I'll finish it later. Then I do it again with another post and another and then I'll write something and actually post it, but, because I never finished the first three half written posts the new posts makes no sense. Get me?

Well I've tried to clean up a few of the half writtens - I'm not quite there yet but now you can find out all about such exciting matters as my first date with Loco, and those that came before like, Beardman, Worm and Garrulo.

Bet you're excited ey! Well try to control yourselves cos I still ain't finished, but soon my friends, sooon.

The thigh machine

Tonight I am going to the gym for the third this year! (three times more than the whole of last year) and I just hope that in 3 days I will be able to move.

On Friday I went to the gym. I did some stuff on the bike, then on the rowing machine (get the cardiovascular out of the way - check me out with my gym knowledge) and then some of the "muscle machines" (yeh so this is as far as my gym knowledge goes, unfortunately I'm not familiar with the correct terminology). This was all going well until I came accross the "thigh machine". Not to be deterred I had a go, and it hurt a little bit at the time but hey, pain is good, no pain no gain, they say. So I continued, my friend encouraging me, telling me that the "thigh machine" is good for working the muscles used when having sex.

Well, you'd think I'd never had sex in my life with the complete lack of muscles that I have down there. No pain no gain can sod right off. Not one, not two, but three days later I was still in extreme agony unable to walk, sit or sleep. I had sex perfectly well before ever using the "thigh machine" and if anything the "thigh machine" has in fact impeded my abilities in the bedroom department.

Safe to say I will not be venturing near the thigh machine again. ever.

Why?

Sometime last week I decided that I would chat to one of the freelance guys that comes into the office. Even though he comes by several times a week, I have never actually spoken to him until now.

For some strange reason I thought he was Scottish, until I spoke to him, (still thinking he was Scottish) and found out he was actually Irish.

Now I have a little crush.

Why could that be?

An update

So I emailed Ireland to find out whether he had in fact been in Barcelona at the weekend.

The answer was that he had. Followed by a "see you in 2 weeks".

And I know I said it saved me hassle with Loco blah blah, but the truth is now I'm smarting and my feelings are a little bit hurt.

Women. sigh.

Nothing to declare

First off - this post is going to be a let down. After such a big buildup - I have no news.

Despite turning my phone onto silent and hiding it, I didn't hear from Ireland. I considered texting to find out if he had indeed made it to Barcelona but changed my mind and will probably send him an email. Now, although this is a big relief in some ways, if he has been in Barcelona this weekend and decided not to call me I am gonna feel a little bit offended. But then he is coming back in a couple of weeks anyway.

I think it's for the best he wasn't around cos I was feeling quite down on Friday, even Loco noticed and decided to cheer me up by taking me out for a fancy pants dinner - that was nice. Although I did cry in the restaurant - don't ask. So I wasn't really in a mood for socialising.

I also wonder if when Ireland called me to tell me he was coming, if I was a little bit off with him. I mean, the call came out of the blue and I was at work at the time. I can hear my imagination whirring away as I type this.

In any case, I shall find out and keep you and myself informed!

In other news, snow is covering pretty much the whole of Spain. Metres of it! Apart from here in Barcelona, where it is nice and sunny and I don't even need to wear my bobble hat anymore. I want snow!

So I switched template over to the new blogger.. and lost all my links etc etc

Not to fret, after a few hours of html fiddling it looks the way I want it to, sort of.

Not being in the best of moods today I am gonna cut this entry short right here.

Tit tat

One day to go until Ireland gets here.. Still haven't decided what I'm going to do about that although it seems clear that I can't tell Loco today that Ireland is coming tomorrow. Hmm. I've even taken to keeping my phone on silent around Loco so scared am I that Ireland should ring me while in his presence. Yes I am a fool, I know.

I know I harp on about the weather sometimes, but oh my, the temperatures here just dropped. It is bloody freezing. After a couple of weeks where we were back to beach weather having to wear my ski coat does not please me!

Anyway, this blogging lark is gonna get me fired so I'm off to do some work.

Luck of the Irish

So Ireland is coming this weekend.

I still haven't told Loco and I'm not really sure how I'm going to get around this one. My little brain is whirring ten to the dozen to think of a cunning plan where I get to hang out with Ireland yet not send Loco into a jealous rage.

It's a tricky one even for me. Don't ask me what happened but I find it very difficult to lie to Loco and I have tried! The little white lie here and there,

Him "Have you eaten any chocolate today?"

Me "Me? me? no, why would I eat chocolate? I don't even like chocolate that much. Ten empty wrappers in the bin you say? Chocolate smears around my mouth? How very peculiar."

But he just sees right through it. Hell, I even feel like I'm lying when I'm telling the truth. If he accuses me of something I most definitely have not done, it doesn't matter, my face still turns red and this little nervous laugh starts. Terribly incriminating.

Plus I'm a teensy bit scared that when I see Ireland I'm gonna fancy him like crazy all over again. Not good when a) he lives in Ireland and b) he has a gf. Oh and C) I have a bf.

So, en fin, what to do?

I am considering about wating until he come over with his gf as Loco can't get very mad about that plus Loco is conveniently away on business. But another little part of me says, "Fuck it, Ireland is my friend as well as my ex-lover that I was just a teensy weensy little bit in love with, I should be able to hang out with him without fearing repurcussions."

But then again I think that I get very jealous when Loco speaks to his ex, but then they were together for SEVEN years.

AGGGGH. I drive myself mad.

Moving..

For the last few weeks Loco and I have been discussing moving in together.

I know it is a big decision to make so quickly into a relationship but it just feels right. Previous bfs that have even tried to broach this subject, have left me with a sense of panic so great that I would apply for jobs in Japan rather than ever have to become part of a domesticated couple. Bleugh!

"Well, I've applied for a job in Japan with immediate start so better to break it off here rather than face the horrors of a long distance relationship dontcha think!"

This once backfired when bf at the time decided that he too would apply for a job in Japan.

Anyway, now I want to do it, so this poses some questions:

Should we rent a flat in Barcelona or instead move directly to the apartment Loco already owns?

Moving straight to said apartment seems like the most sensible idea as rent-money can be used to pay off mortgage and renovate apartment.

So the apartment needs renovating?

Yes, new kitchen, bathroom, floors, doors, walls the lot.

Hmm. Seems like a lot of work.

Yes it does, add to this I have yet to even see apartment and I start to feel a bit scared. Loco estimates that the work would take about a year to complete (I'm in Spain remember).

So where would you live in the meantime?

Well obviously paying rent and a mortgage at the same time is out of the question, so Loco's suggestion is that we live with his parents. Gulp. Don't get me wrong - His parents are awesome. The best suegros ever. But living with them for a year?? Things might get difficult. My idea is to live in while the renovations are completed. Staying with his parents as and when needed (when bathroom is fitted etc). Loco doesn't like my idea.

Hmm. Not an ideal arrangement. Any other downsides?

Er, yes, the fact the apartment (and his parents house) aren't in Barcelona itself. They're in the pueblo, about a 15 minute drive on a good day, 1 and a half hours at 08:30 going to work time.

And here's the nutcracker. Loco bought the apartment from his ex-gf's parents and I'm not sure if I like the idea of us living together is his ex gf's house. Maybe I'm overreacting, but I just find it a little peculiar.

So - what ya gonna do?

Probably move to the apartment. Loco managed to buy just before house prices boomed so mortgage is incredibly low (for here), which means that we'll more than likely be able to afford a second property in the not so distant future. Maybe a nice little apartment by the beach :)

Hopefully I can sway him on the living in while renovations are being done option.

Anyway first things first, the current tenant has to find a new place to live and then we'll talk.

An Interview

In other news, I have done my very first interview! (Apart from the time I was drunkenly interviewed by a Dutch/Swedish/Northern-European TV Crew that shone a very bright light in my face in the middle of Danzatoria)

Check it out here!

What have I been doing?

Throughout the year I have written various different tales about what I'd been up to and with who but I just never got round to publishing them.. I am currently in the process of editing and publishing so that my blog becomes somewhat more coherent. I hope.

Please bear with me, normal services will resume shortly :)

Yay!

I forgot to mention (my bad) my first 2 comments :)

Thanks very much! It pleased me.

A surprise

So, who decided to text me the other day. No, not fucking beardman (who coincidentally did, again, over christmas. Idiot)

Ireland! :)

He's coming to visit. Eek! Loco wasn't happy. I've had to explain to him about Ireland when he texted me one day. He is now at the top of Loco's list of worries seeing as we only stopped seeing each other when he moved back to Ireland and if he hadn't we might still be seeing each other blah blah blah... All true, but the fact is, he doesn't still live here and now I'm with Loco. And I love Loco and wouldn't want to spoil that by being a bad girl.

Anyway, I ignored his text - I didn't know what to say! Then a couple of days later I got another saying that he has now booked his flights for him and his bird to come over.. Well then. That sort of placated Loco and it means that I should be able to see Ireland now without too many problems.

Until - Ireland calls me to say he is in fact coming over before he comes over with his bird, for a weekend with his work colleagues. Eek.

Now what do I do....

2006 - A summary

A little late, but then you know what they say, better late than never!

Highlight: Meeting Loco. Kaiser Chiefs Concert. Ski Weekend!

Lowlight: January was definitely a low for me in Barcelona, so many friends had moved on and I felt very sad.

Holidays: Nothing worthy of mention. Stayed in Spain - visited Andalucia, Valencia and other bits of Cataluña

Number: 8

Boyfriends: 1 - Loco :)

Flings: 2

One Nighters: 5 - very hussy like. bad me.

New friends: One or Two but not as many as I would like

Jobs: Same one as ever

New skills: A little belly dancing

Another year in Barcelona...