More Good News Coming My Way

"Perhaps psychology majors should seek professional help. After all, why would they choose a field in which the average starting salary is only $30,369 a year? It's the lowest starting pay of any field, according to the National Association of Colleges and Employers, which ranks money-making majors every quarter." -Forbes.com



Yay! One more thing for me to worry about after I graduate. So if I can actually find a job in this terrible economy, I'll be making less money than clerk 7 at the local Superfresh. Looks like I should have just majored in stripping because I'm pretty sure I could make a hell of a lot more money doing that...and in cash too!

Crap, We've Lost Another One.

Last week, while waiting for my friend Layla to get dressed to go out, I instinctively crept to her computer to check my email, Facebook, Myspace, and every other dorky cyber society I affiliate with. As I was typing in my screenname at aol.com, a shocking headline caught my eye. Right underneath some crap I never heard of called Darfur was some real news, something I frankly didn't see coming: Grey's Anatomy's T.R Knight Announces He's Gay.

For anyone who doesn't watch the GREATEST show ever, TR Knight plays George, the quiet intern who pines for the main character, Meredith Grey. The sensitive and awkward underdog, he has developed somewhat of a following amongst female viewers. In fact, I don't think I know a single woman my age who doesn't openly swoon over George. So, as you can see, this is not just a blow to me but to twenty-something females everywhere.

Fortunately, though, this discovery was somewhat manageable for me since I've been in this type of situation before. It first happened several years ago, when I was both blessed and cursed to turn on Oprah one weekday afternoon. That day, I found the most gorgeous human being I had ever seen gracing her comfortable beige couch. His name was Nate, and I was immediately lost in a sea of daydreams about our beautiful New England wedding that it took me over 15 minutes to realize that not only was he interior decorator (um, dead give-away) but he was also on to talk about the loss of his partner in the recent tsunami. So, clearly, I am the most unlucky person ever. It was months later before I recovered from this devestating blow, and even now its hard to look at a beautifully arranged center piece without getting a little misty eyed over my should-be husband. But on the bright side, I'm now a stronger person becaue of it. Oh yeah, and I also didn't lose my boyfriend in a tsunami.

But anyway, although experience has made this latest news somewhat easier, there's still something bothering me. It isn't that George is gay; Lets be honest, I never had a chance regardless of his sexuality. What really gets me is that I never saw it coming. I PRIDE myself on my gay-dar. It's one of my many useless and mildly offensive skills. I could stand on a park bench and tell you the sexuality of every passerby with nearly perfect accuracy. And when a friend of mine came out to me a few summers ago, he was actually pissed that I was in no way surprised. Though no one else we associated with picked up on it, I knew within minutes of meeting him that he was playing for the other team. Some people can cure terminal illnesses through prayer, I can point out the homosexuals. Its a gift. (On a side note, here's a little advice: If you have to ask, the answer's more than likely yes)

So now I must add dear Georgie to the list of men we women have lost to the boys. It's really a shame that I don't believe that homosexuality is a disease like the Republicans do. Then I could just further delude myself into thinking that these guys will be "cured" and come running to me to make up for lost time. But I guess it's not all bad news, ladies. After all, we still have Ryan Seacrest, Ricky Martin, and Tom Cruise. Now those guys are DEFINATELY straight. If I find out though that Sack from Wedding Crashers is gay, as he's been rumored to be, I'm getting a sex change and moving to the Village. Until then you can find me watching Oprah, getting tips from Nate on how to throw the perfect wedding reception, one we unfortunately will not be sharing.

What I Love/Hate About Madrid

After nearly 20 days in Madrid, I have had plenty of time to observe this great city and its culture. There are of course numerous differences between the life here and that in America, some good and others bad. As a convenience to you, and I'm sure to the delight of many Madrilenos, I've formed a few opinions on the matter that I'd like to share. So here, my friends, is a list of the good, the bad, and the straight up European.

1) LOVE: I love that you can sit for hours on end at any cafe or restuarant, even long after you've finished eating, without pissing off the staff for taking up one of their tables. In fact its expected that you linger. This of course has a slight downside when I'm in a hurry but refuse to get up too soon in order to be ¨more euro¨.

2)HATE: I hate that no one eats breakfast, and when they do its only a croissant, churro, or other pastry- all neither healthy nor filling. Give me a big bowl of oatmeal or an omelete, please, because its been 12 hours since I last ate and I'm frickin STAHVING.

3)LOVE: The one good thing about breakfast is the coffee. I adore the coffee here: its small but delicious, nothing like the watery, caffeine infused shit in the US. I drink mine ¨solo¨ (without milk), and it is so good that I have to fight not to toss it back like a shot of soco and lime and instead enjoy it slowly for the treat it is.

4) HATE: As most people know, European working hours are far fewer than American. While this is great for the people who work here, its a pain in the ass for me. Before I started at the Complutense, I had to wait two hours outside the secretaries' office for them to return from their lunch break so I could hand in my forms. Two hours to hand some lady my papers, wait for her to stamp all 5 of them, and thats it. I get it, you need to eat, but I need to do a million other things that can't be done from the dirty linoleum floor of the university. Furthermore, everything is closed on Sundays or on Fiestas like today, and pharmacies proudly advertise that they are open 12 hours a day. I like America where if stores could actually be open for more than 24 hrs they would be.

5) LOVE: I love the metro. Its ridiculously simple and cheaper than New York's. Everything is clearly presented and labeled, there are maps everywhere, and its extremely efficient. Not that I thought highly of it before, but it truly puts Philly public transportation to shame.

6) HATE: Dog Shit. There is dog shit everywhere. They say its good luck to step in it, but I see nothing good about being the smelly girl on the bus because you have canine feces stuck on the bottom of your shoe. Not that this happened to me, of course.

7) LOVE: I freakin love futball. And even more, futball players. Even though I don't know much about the sport , and I can't understand a word the announcers are saying, I still stay glued to the screen. Never before have I seen a sport where such an overwhelming amount of players are so damn sexy. Christ, even the ugly ones could model for Abercrombie. Obviously I'm in no rush to have children, but I would gladly give up my education, my career, and possibly my soul to birth any one of Real Madrid's babies--especially yours, Cannavaro.

8) HATE: I hate that the electrical outlets are different and, therefore, incompatable with American plugs. All I want to do is use my computer and blow dry my hair, but apparently European electrical companies hate me. Its probably because I'm so damn sexy and going to marry a futballer.

9) LOVE: Finally, I love Spanish TV. Its hysterical. Not only can you watch ¨Friends¨ or ¨The Simpsons¨ with ridiculously animated voice-overs, but they also have their own versions of American programs such as ¨Matrimonio con Hijos¨ and ¨Quien Quire Ser un Millionarre¨. And you know the Ax Click commercial where Nick Lachey walks around recording how many girls check him out? Well here Ben Affleck stars in the same commercial. Although too important to sell out for US television, doing the same in Espana apparently doesn't compromise Ben's artistic integrity.


I'm sure I'll come across many more things I love and hate about Spain (hopefully, more "loves" than "hates"), and because I have like zero school work so far, I'll be sure to pass my opinion along. Until then you can find me in a cafe, drinking my cafe solo and watching my future husband's futball match long after I've paid my bill. Adios!

Bienvenidos a Madrid

*warning: I have no spell check so you will all now see how terrible a speller/ what a sloppy typer I am*

I can´t believe I have already been in Madrid for half a month...and that I haven´t yet written about it. After a relatively smooth flight, I arrived in Madrid at 6:30 am local time. I should have been more sleepy since according to my internal clock it was nearing 1 am, but the excitement of being in a new country definately enlivened me.

Robert, Manhattan´s program director here in Madrid, kindly picked me up from the airport to drive me to my new home for the next three months. I knew little about it except that it wasn´t exactly close to the Complutense and that I was sharing the apartment with three other people, so I was eager to see where I´d be living. When I arrived, I was relieved to see that none of my roomates were home: After a 7 and a half hour flight I wasn´t exactly eager to do the whole introduction thing- and in Spanish no less. Plus, it gave me a nice opportunity to scope out the place.
The apartment is very different from what I expected, though not in a bad way. In fact it is quite nicer than what I imagined. We have two stories within a larger, gated complex with a beautiful private terrace, our own kitchen, and a decent sized living room. My room, the master bedroom, is warm and sunny, with it´s own tv, plenty of closet space and my very own bathroom. A place like this would run you hundreds of thousands, if not millions, in New York City- but then again, what doesn´t?

However, though the apartment is spacious and comfortable, it is far from what I wanted. For starters, being there I don´t even feel as if I am in Madrid. The whole place is very modern as is the surrounding neighborhood. My entire block is filled with apartments, supermarkets, and banks. No where in sight can you find the historic townhouses or beautiful fountains filling the tourist books. The only slice of Spanish culture I have is the small cafeterìa down the street, the one right between the chinese restuarant and the video rental store.

But worst of all is not the atmosphere, but the location itself. I had been informed that I had a a fairly long communte to the Completense everyday, but I didn´t realize until I got here, though I had suspected, that I am also at least a half an hour away from all the other students as well as ANYTHING worthwhile in the city. Everyday I leave for my 3 oclock class before 2; if I want to go for a quick shopping trip, I have to factor in at least an hour and a half for the commute; At night, if I want to meet friends in Al Centro around 1, I must catch the last bus at 11:15 or else suffer through the painfully long ¨night bus¨that takes you all over the city; and then, to come home, its either wait until 6am when public transportation reopens or take that damn night bus again. It all SUCKS.

But, despite my lousy living situation, I am actually having a good time. My roommate Julie, though not exactly my first choice of companion, is very nice and has taken me out with her a few times. My first night out, she took me to a houseparty a client of hers was having. Now, Madrileños don´t often party in their homes, but this guy knew how to do it right. I honestly don´t know how a girl like Julie got invited to such an event. The apartment itself was spectacular. Located on a corner building right off Puerta del Sol, the balconies that cover it look over the many people roaming the streets from bar to bar. Inside, though spacious, it was near impossible to move with all the people there and even harder to hear over the noise of the DJ plaing in the main room. It was definately a very trendy, underground, ¨lets snort lines in the back room¨ type of party. Out in the open, there were plenty of ¨substances¨ as well: I saw at least two tables covered with bottles of rum, vodka, coke, and redbull for the taking. The host was very friendly and encouraged everyone to help themselves. Though he didn´t speak much English, he was quick to share with me at least one phrase he had learned: ¨Grab a drink and let´s fucking party¨.

Despite that first impressive night, Julie has not been much of a party animal. Instead I have mostly been hanging out with some of my classmates from the Complutense. We have gone to all sorts of places from a restuarant with a tapdancer for entertainment, to a club that was once a royal palace, to the typical, though always reliable, Irish pub. Unfortunately, however, I still have the dreaded commute home to worry about whenever I go out. It´s always a lose-lose situation: Either wander for blocks to find a night bus-stop and try to hold your bladder throughout the long ride or go home at 6 am when the metro reopens and shamefully walk into your apartment as your fruitful, productive flatmates eat their breakfast before work. Either way, lets be honest, little pride is involved.