The Everywhereist

While walking around Madrid, Rand and I saw this sculptural relief on the facade of the building, done in the classical style (is it ancient Roman in its influences? Let’s say yes, because I know squat about sculpture):

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And then we saw the same relief, this time rendered with a Cubist slant:

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And I might have geeked out, because seriously, how cool is that?

There are times when I feel like maybe I’m asking a little too much of the universe (“Give me an awesome husband, the opportunity to travel around the world, and lots of cupcakes, please. Also, I’d like to meet Jeff Goldblum.”) I try to keep it in check, I really do (notice I didn’t ask for a pony).

Like, for example, when we were in Madrid last month – for a grand total of only 24 hours – I did not have a lot of expectations.

I certainly didn’t think that I would have any time to spend with Rand. Or that he would have a whole afternoon free.

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I'm doing this weird thing with my mouth here, but Rand looks really cute so I'm posting it.

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My darling husband has a slightly inflated impression of my foreign language abilities. A haggling session in Cuzco left him believing that my Spanish was far better than it actually is (It’s not that great. I am, however, an awesome haggler). I allow it, of course. We all believe slight exaggerations about our loved ones. He wants to think I speak perfect Spanish? Fine by me. If he believes I’m trilingual, then I get to believe he’s suave enough to give Cary Grant a run for his money.

What? It could happen.

Besides, it’s not all untrue: I do have enough basic knowledge left over from high school Spanish that I can be of some help when we’re in Spain or South America. Not much, mind you, but enough to (hopefully) not get him arrested. For example, when were in Madrid he saw a sign that said señoras …

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Today’s guest post is by the lovely and talented Nicole, a freelance writer and photographer currently living in Spain. Her geographic distance is a bummer: if she lived closer, I’m sure we’d instantly be BFFs, necessitating that we buy t-shirts with both our faces screen-printed on them, and wear them EVERYWHERE. Sadly, her being in Madrid substantially decreases our chances of running around the mall in matching tees.

But, Nik, if I’m ever in your neck of the woods, we are hanging out. And getting ham. (Matching tees optional.)

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Living in Madrid for 5 years has taught me many things, but only 4 of them are vital to my survival here:

• Words mean nothing, it’s all in the hand signals
• Driving inside the lanes is for wussies
• Spanish beer is the second best thing in the world
• Spanish ham is the number 1 best thing in the world

I’m sure you’re thinking, “What? After 5 years here and all you have learned are to flap your hands around, drive like a dizzy monkey, drink beer, and eat ham?

To those people, I reply, “Yes, it’s sad. But do you know how important ham is to these people?”

So important in fact, an actual Ham Museum exists for those who can’t get enough “Pata Negra” at home, or in the bars, or at the movies, etc. Yes, it is “el Museo de Jamón.”

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