Spring is in full bloom here in Madrid. We’ve had a blissful few days of 80 degree-plus weather. The trees are flowering and smell wonderful, the tulips are sprouting, and the Metro smells (even more) like B.O.
All the Americans are breaking out their short shorts and spaghetti straps, while the Spanish (dressing ever for the season and not the weather) are sporting their boots, jackets, and scarves. You get sick if you don’t cover your neck with a scarf, you know. At least that’s how it is in Spain.
Last Saturday was my friend Annie’s birthday. She wanted to celebrate by having a picnic in Retiro (the Central Park of Madrid). She was worried it might rain, so I used my masterful skills at The Secret. Of course, thanks to me and the power of positive thinking, it was a beautiful and perfect day. Now if I could only think more positively about money, men, and a hot body (and hair).
Anyway, here’s some proof that The Secret works:
Like I said, the day was perfect.
So we had a picnic. I can’t remember all that there was to eat, but I made vegetable quiche. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to eat any of it, but that was OK. I had made it the week before, too, and was a little quiche-d out.
Besides eating, which I did plenty of, there was also sport.
There was rugby/soccer. I tried to play soccer with the boys for a few minutes. They complimented me any time I did ANYTHING remotely resembling kicking the ball in the right direction. And every time I tried to make a suggestion or a comment they said, “We know. HEY GUYS, YOU HAVE TO PASS IT TO JULIE TOO!” It brought back memories from being the youngest child.
There was juggling.
Some were better at it than others.
There was hit-a-ball-with-some-paddles. I didn’t play this, but for some reason at the end of the day, both of the handles had broken off of the paddles. I can only blame beer.
Then there was the good ol’ fashioned, just-sit-and-enjoy-the-weather option.
It was nice.
Especially when Horti serenaded us. There was one song he wrote about us. It was about how we don’t really need to do anything when we hang out.
Oh, and Spaniards don’t necessarily stay all covered up when they are at Retiro. There was a man a few blankets down from us who had stripped down to nothing but short-shorts and was laying in every which way trying to tan himself as much as possible. I didn’t get a picture of him. Sorry.
Later that night, we went out dancing at our favorite trashy and cheap discoteca.
Here’s a picture of me with my new hair. Hope it’s not too dark so you can’t see it.
The next day, it was nice again but I spent most of the day inside working on my thesis and some other work that was due this week. I did however, brush through the mullet once so that I could go see Alice in Wonderland (I know, old news to you but it opened here recently.) I really liked it!
It’s hard to say if my favorite season is Spring or Fall. I love the pretty colors of Fall, the recipes you can make involving apples and pumpkins. But in Spring I love the smell of blooming trees, and the chirping of birds. And the non-pending doom of winter.
Hard to say which one I like more.