My new favourite Spanish name.

Okay, so spanish people can have really funny names, in case you didn't already know, the spanish have their first name, which are very commonly double barrelled, and they take their fathers first last name, and their mothers first last name. If somewhere along the line there has been a notable last name, they can also continue it on, if they damn well please, using both of each parents 2 last names, then grandparents, great grand parents etc etc until your name is longer than the passport queue at a London airport.

Until now, my favourite name has been Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos. (Mary Jesus yes that is actually a woman's name Of all the Saints). I don't know why this is my favourite, I just heard it once and thought it was funny. When Maro & Sing, the aussies who lived here, went back to Australia, I tried to send them jamon (cured ham - a spanish delicacy) in the post, it was an air sealed plastic wrapped package, i though it might get through. On the "sender" part of the package I put that it was from Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos. The jamon didn't get through. They got a note from customs saying that Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos was commiting a crime by sending meat in the post.

So although I've known my friend Maria's full name for a long time, I've never really thought exactly what her name translates into english. My friend Maria, who rocks by the way, mentioned at dinner the other night that people used to laugh at her name when she was at school. Then after discussing why, I realised that yes, she has a really fucking funny name. Its Maria Isabel León Carrillo del Albornoz. Which translates to Mary Elizabeth Lion Little Cheeks of the Bath Robe. HELLO! HILARIOUS! How have I missed this excellent name of my good friend Maria? The only time I've even really seen her last name is on her emails, and the last name is so long I didn't really pay attention. So much time has been wasted with Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos being my favourite! How has this little gem of Maria's name been right under my very nose the whole time!?

Even just having the word Lion in your last name is cool, not to mention Little Cheeks of the Bath Robe! Crazy shit!

I'm part Thai now

So last week my sister said to me, "Oh by the way, we are going to have a new step mother next Tuesday" WTF in capital letters, was my reply.

So my parents have been divorced for about 14 years, Dad has had a few girlfriends, since. One I didn't like much cause she pretended she was really posh even though she was going out with a man, nicknamed Keg who bought a house on a property precisely for the Greyhound training facilities, replaced the Australian flag on the flag pole in the yard with a VB flag (his favourite beer) and named his new house VB (said beer) Lodge. She was kidding herself.

Another one I didn't mind too much. Her name was Peg, which rhymed with Keg and she drank whiskys and cokes at the same rate my dad drank stubbies of VB. She was hardcore. I thought they suited. They also kinda looked the same.

Then Dad started going to Thailand. Considering that dad is pretty damn racist and is known to call chinese people chinks, and probably cannot tell the difference between Thais and chinese cause in his words "They all look the bloody same" this was quite surprising. He was obviously taking advantage of the infamous Thai sex industry. Its gross and hideous to me, but what can I do. I hardly ever speak to my dad, I can hardly disown him. Well, after a few trips there was one such Thai lady that he seemed to be quite interested in. She was a chef (score!) and eventually came back to OZ to be with him, steal my inheritance from under my very eyes and enjoy life at VB lodge (poor love).

There is no time for embaressment. There is no way I can spin this story to make it sound less embaressing. I just gotta accept it, get over it and hope they have a little Thai bebe.

She has a son, 8yrs old, who is named...wait for it.... EGG. I think Egg quietly rocks. (even though i don't know him yet).

So on a Tuesday, (a perfect day for a wedding don't you think?) Dad married the Thai. So now I have a step mother. And you know what... I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER NAME! No one has ever told me! I have NO IDEA WHAT MY STEPMOTHERS NAME IS.
There's gotta be a bright side to your dad marrying a mail order bride, so I have a few questions:
Does she cook good Pad Thai?
Can I now get a working Visa in Thailand?
Does her family live by the beach or in a picturesque landscape?
When will I have a Thai step brother/sister?

Update

My ankle was fucked and I had to get plaster. 2 weeks of plaster and I've been limping for about 2 weeks. If I thought I was doing nothing being unemployed before, being unemployed AND with plaster on my leg was REALLY doing nothing. Solitaire. Movies. Books. I went from the bed to the lounge and ocasionally getting up to go to the toilet. Argh. Hard work. I didn't even cook lunch. Marcos took over and when he was too lazy to cook lunch he just nipped on over to his parents house and picked up several days worth of delicious homemade spanish dishes. (I am waaaaay past being guilty about getting food from Ms Mum, far too tasty!)

Well one day I actually did try to make lunch, the first and last time until I was properly mobile. Our kitchen is really narrow and the space between the sink and the bench is the perfect distance to use as makeshift crutches. I started cutting some onion but I was in an awkward position so I decided to lean on the bench and swing myself around to a more frontal position, for some unfathomable reason as I was swinging myself around I held the knife I was using by its handle and pointed the sharp bit towards my person. And of course as I swung myself around I stabbed myself right in the god damn fucking thigh! It went in only about 1cm, but I felt it go in, and then the sensation of pulling it out and it was hardcore! I stabbed myself! Not a cut. a STAB! I started bleeding and Marcos came home from work minutes later to find me on the lounge, pants around my ankles, blood running down my leg and screaming the minute he walked in "I stabbed myself!" His reply WTF!? It is interesting to note that when you tell someone that you stabbed yourself their first reaction is as if you did it on purpose, like you were trying to kill yourself. The idea that you were trying to kill yourself is somehow more likely than an accidental stabbing incident. When I re-told the story, most people looked at me like I was a suicide risk when my first descriptive words of the incident were "I stabbed myself!" I soon changed it to "I ACCIDENTLY stabbed myself" and things were instantly clearer.

So due to the plaster I haven't been running for ages, I have been sitting on the lounge alot, I haven't been doing jack shit. I have been eating peanut butter & butter on toast instead of my normal healthy breakfast. I have been eating lots of lollies and chocolate that i still have left over from easter. (yes thats in April and its a little crusty but I kinda like how it makes your tongue a but furry). My doorman asked me the other day if I was pregnant, he didn't just ask it, he felt it necessary to state that I looked fatter in general and that my belly looked huge. Thanks fucker. But no. I am not pregnant. He looked a bit embaressed that i said no, but not embaressed enough to ask Marcos again when he got home, just to double check! Hijo de la gran PUTA! But interestingly, in my life, its not the first time I've been asked even though I've never been pregnant. Belly be gone! One day i will have a normal belly...one day.

I fell over

I went running along the river and some cani (westie, redneck etc) had his motobike down there (not allowed) and he rode past me and did a wheelie. He wasnt really near me but when he landed I could see he wasnt really in control (cause he was a 16 year old cani with far to much confidence and hair gel) so I went right to dodge right away from him, didnt see a mini ledge and I dropped down like a sack of potatos. Twisted ankle and a grazed knee. Falling down sucks. I lay there for ages not wanting to get up. Luckily Marcos was with me and I could say a million times "It really hurts, Ive really hurt myself" in a whingy type of voice. At home Marcos wrapped my foot in ice & an aboriginal art inspired tea towel that mum sent. He also put something called agua oxigenada on my graze which bubbled up white shit and looked like acid and hurt like hell. It still hurts. I have crutches. (well they are kinda cool) Exercise and cani´s dont mix and can be hazardous to your health.

It would be so awesome to have given birth to TuPac.

Just got back from a weekend in Lagos, Portugal. I went with Discover Sevilla, a tour company that I do design work for, they offered me a free trip, all I had to do was help out a little when needed. My good friend Rachel works for Discover Sevilla so as I wasn't doing anything else & Marcos was in Berlin running the marathon I decided that drinking at the beach with Rachel and 115 20yr old American students would be fun.
Well it was fun, it seems that "helping out" was drinking beers with Rachel, occasionally counting students and making sure they didn't fall over when so drunk they cant even walk. I did have fun but it has to be said that 20 yr old american students are fucking freaks of nature. Instead of making me feel old, which would have been quite possible considering my newly 30´d fragile state, they made me feel damn happy that I wasn't 20 years old and therefore may have to hang out with people like them. They also made me worry for the future state of America.
At the opening party, the people at the bar had written on the blackboard out the front. "Cum and party, fuck on or at the bar" and the security guards wore TShirts with a stick figure on the front, that had no head, with words below that read. "SECURITY, needs head" I mean REALLY! Call me prudish but can people really get away with this shit? Inside the party, there was shockingly some nerdy looking boys who really knew how to cut some moves on the dance floor, then some girl got off the podium and I saw her undies, then I saw some people doing my all time dancefloor HATE move, The Man Sandwich, (girl in the middle, 2 guys gyrating into her from either side) then I had to get the hell out of there.
Manning the door, I met Brad, one of "the kids" he couldn't stand up, so I stood with him on the wall, he had mentos, he kept trying to give me one but kept dropping them cause he lost his motor skills probably at 2pm that same day. I took them off him and ate them all. Sucker. I made the mistake of asking Brad what he was studying. He got into his spiel, something like this "Finance Consulting, I am going to work for the American government, where I will have the safety and benefits of working for the government BUT I WILL EARN LOTS OF FUCKING MONEY" He spat in my face when he said that last bit. I can't even tell you what some of the other american kids said to me, they would speak and I would have absolutely no response to what they said, cause it was 1. boring or 2. made no sense. How can someone speak and make no sense? These are suposedly literate people.
Day 2 one guy said "I just want to immerse myself in the portugese culture" he was so drunk he couldn't walk straight and had the red face of someone who had been drinking for 36 hours straight. He was asleep in the corner of the bar an hour later. Can he hear himself speak? I didnt want to know what he was studying at university cause I feared he would respond, medicine or politics and then I would want to spear tackle him into the cultured portugese earth. Then he would sue me and I would then be a financial contributor to his path to greatness in american medicine or politics.
I think its their voices... A friend and I once decided that Americans speak every sentence like what they are saying is the most important and truest thing in the world. I have a lot of american friends here and not one of them speak like that, so I have come to know that this can be true only with young americans. Well, I have met some young americans that don't speak like that so maybe they come from a certain part of america and its their specific accent. I don't know. But I do know that its annoying, but for comedic value, it does make what they say sound even more outrageous.
I was sitting in front of 2 girls on the bus, these girls had the annoying way of speaking that I talk about above. They were listening to music, sharing an iPod and talking at the same time, talking so loudly so I heard every mindless word they uttered. Some of their riveting conversations went as follows:

Girl 1: Oh my god, I would have like, loved to have given birth to TuPac, like you know, be his mother.
(This was when I started listening to them, I simply cannot describe what it feels like to hear someone say something so stupid but with such conviction. and um isnt TuPac like DEAD?)
Girl 2: Yeah totally, or like, someone equally as famous or just like, equally as cool.


Girl 1: Can you like, sing, because you seem to know lots about music and performing and stuff and I feel like you must be a really good singer or something.
Girl 2: Modest Um, well. Then silence so she must have been shrugging or blushing.
Girl 1. Oh my god you can sing! I would so LOVE to hear you sing like on tape or something.
Why wait to hear it on tape, she is sitting right next to you! Is tape better than hearing it live?
Then about 1 minute of silence... Then the girl starts singing! Like ballad singing, to really show off her excellent (it really wasnt) voice. Oh for the love of god. SHUT UP!


Girl 1: I feel like I wrote this song I know it so well.
Girl 2: You wrote this song!?
Girl 1: No I just feel like I could have cause I know it so well.


Girl 1: Do you think they were really in love?
Girl 2: Yes, they were SO in love, like really in love.
Girl 1: What do you think Justin thinks about her now, is he worried about her? Do you think he like calls her to see how she is?
Girl 2: Yeah, definately, cause they're still friends.
Talking about Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake.

Entertainment Puro.

Unemployment....and the snail family.

I really should be blogging more. I am unemployed after all. I got fired. It happened a couple of months ago. Long story short, my boss was a tool burger. I was working crazy un-necessary hours, working till 6am just cause your bosses have a presentation the next day (that I had to prepare) and at midnight they are still arguing over the content (only starting to brainstorm the content at 11pm) doesnt maketh for a happy workplace. Boss turns up at 4pm most days, with "urgent" work that is due the following day etc etc We have a meeting, everyone is pissed. the bosses say if you dont like it then fuck off. They say "no es justo pero es lo que hay" Its not fair but its what there is. I suggest that we need to be compensated for our overtime with corresponding days off/free hours at the end of the project to encourage not taking advantage of our time. The boss says "when I worked in New York I´d be in the office all night long" This is NOT fucking New York dickhead and maybe if you didnt spend so much time in the office you would be able to distinguish between the two cities, loser. My workmate called them franco era facists. She got fired too.

I am claiming unemployment benefits which you get for a percentage of the amount of time you have been working. For me, thats 4 months worth of unemployment benefits and almost the same pay as I was getting when I worked. So its holidays till November....

The snail family is still alive! It must be said that liquid paper does not kill snails. Seville has just had a lot of rain and the snails have been out like crazy. We´ve seen many of the old little guys that haven´t been seen for ages. Whitey, if you remember, was the one we painted all white. He´s gotten so much bigger and isnt so much white all over but more like splotchy white. He´s grown up and gotten kinda punk. Unfortunately last night, my friend Miguel, crushed to death Casi, the one named after Marcos´s Mum. It was quite sad to see her all smashed up. There are lots of new little babies out, if its cruel to put liquid paper on snails then it must be even more cruel to put it on baby snails. Like piercing a newborns ears..... which brings me to another story. Marcos´s friends Javi & Ana recently had a baby. Marcos showed me some pics they sent him online, when they were still in the hospital and I was shocked to see that, in the hospital, the baby had its ears pierced! WTF I said! The baby has its ears pierced! Little tiny pearls! Marcos tells me this is normal and someone comes around while the baby is in the hospital and asks if you want it done there!!! Poor little new born baby ears! After discussing this with every spanish person I came across in the next few days, they all tell me that all the spanish do it, and its better for the baby cause it cant even feel it! Well, methinks it can feel it. THEN, Marcos went to visit the baby, I couldn´t go for some reason, and when he returned he had MORE freaky spanish baby news.....THEY´D SHAVED ITS HEAD! It seems that baby had unsightly bald patches and thin whispy daggy baby hair... So Buzz Cut for Baby! She looks cuter, and it goes so much nicer with her pearl studs now doesnt it? I couldnt believe this! Then, when discussing it with Ms Mum, she tells me that its normal (in Spain of course, nowhere else where Ive damn been!) and you have to wait till the baby is 40 days old to do it. THERE ARE MEDICAL RULES TO BABY BUZZ CUTS? Well it seems there are. Jeez, so much to learn.

Betty

Little baby Betty has got a tooth! So cute! The liitle alien will be into steaks in no time!

Olympics

Its funny watching the olympics when you are not in your country. I have been away from Australia the last 3 Olympics. 2000 I was in China, the opening ceremony was viewed in a bar that we were sure would have some olympic excitement it was called the "Australia Bar" It did NOT have any olympic excitement (even though 2000 was actually in OZ HELLO!), in fact we had to request the TV to be turned on and then the waitresses, several times, tripped over the cord, hence ripping it out of the socket without realising it, which halted the coverage and then we had to wait for them to plug that shit back in. Our new student accommodation TVs had to be tuned in to get any olympic coverage, this was a massive feat on my part, cause I ended up tuning the damn thing, ALL IN CHINESE. I dont even know how to tune a TV in english! It took me hours! THEN I realised that the coverage in different countries generally focus on the athletes and excelled sports of said country, so when when Thorpie was about to win gold in the pool or Kathy Freeman was about to win gold on the track, all I had to watch was the damn PING PONG! Stupid Ping Pong!

In Spain now, its a little easier cause I understand the language, I understand what the hell they say n the TV, I can tell if I am watching a final or a heat (not so easy in chinese) and I am both supporting the success and failures of both Australia and Spain. Spain has actually had pretty good coverage of everything so I have been able to see lots of Australian action.

Some of the coverage has been pretty funny. This one guy, a Taikwondo champion, Juan Antonio Ramos, he was a favourite to win, and he ended up coming 4th, he was interviewed straight after and he was crying like a baby and said he was disappointed that he couldnt dedicate a medal to his wife (how romantic blurgh) then he said between tears "La vida es una mierda!" LIFE IS SHIT! Ha! Hilarious! Alright mate calm down. We´ve been laughing about that for days now.
The commentators are also hilarious, Supposedly, in hockey, Australia lost a game on purpose to be able to play Spain in the semis cause they thought they would be easier... when spain beat australia, the commentator lost it and started screaming "TAKE THAT AUSTRALIA, SUCK IT, SUCKED IN, YOU WANTED SPAIN, TAKE SPAIN!" I for one think this is a little immature and un-sportsman like but here it seems to be quite normal!
One commentator was interviewing this jamaican woman runner after a heat, obviously he had to interview her in his average english, it was a 20 second interview, he then translated what was said and it had absolutely no resemblance to what really happened! And he spoke for about 2 minutes about what was said...I was screaming..."she didnt even SAY that!! This commentator was just making shit up for exciting coverage! Dodgy!

LAS VEGAS - Bucks Night

Hens night blog to come.... but here is a funny pic in the meantime of Jody getting an impromtu strip from some guy at the restaurant. The tattoo on his belly said Paco, but I like to think it said Taco, caused it looked like he ate alot of them.

Marcos came back from the bucks night asking what does "what happens in vegas stays in vegas" mean exactly. Hmmm, this frightened me somewhat and I said if the groom used those words then he must tell me NOW. No no no he said, the groom behaved respectably, some other guy was saying it all night. OK I say, thats all I need to know, and just for future reference, what happens in Vegas, does not stay in Vegas, it is told to me and I will then decide what to do with the information. So he told me they went to a lap dancing club, well, he didnt just tell me, he showed me the moves they did, all done in a very gay like fashion, (he is really into the show Fama, which is the spanish version of "So you think you can Dance") which was riveting let me tell you. He also said that he wasnt very popular with the strippers, as one of them screamed at him!!! He said he paid his 20 bucks for 1 lap dance and he said he wasnt gonna spend any more (mind you he had just spent 160US$ on a very expensive dinner), so later one of the strippers came along and he said to her oh, no, no thanks I dont have any more money, she then screamed at him, "then get out of here you cheap bastard!" Ironically this same stripper lost her diamonte belt chain in front of Marcos so he kept it as a souviner - hiding it in his shoe - even though she came back later looking for it with a scowling face! So now we have an angry vegas strippers diamonte belt hanging from a hook in our lounge room, a real interior design gem. The lap dance he did get gave him a, I will say, small lesion on his leg where the slutty stiletto of the stripper must have cut him, he still has a scab to which he now looks at and exclaims, "Ive still got a scab, Im gonna sue that fucking stripper, it´ll probably scar!" Hilarious!

LOS ANGELES

Little Betty and I hanging out after the below crying incident. She is clearly laughing about how mean she was to me. Little Satan Baby!

In LA I met Betty for the first time. LITTLE BABY BETTY IS SO ADORABLE!!!!! Granted the first day I was with her, Teeny (my sister) and my Mum went to a taping of The Ellen Show, I volunteered to baby sit Betty. She was sleeping at first and looked so lovely, she then woke up and I put her in the pram for a spot of shopping. well the damn alien was fine until I stopped to look and things and then she CRIED, it seems she just wanted to go for a little walk and all the american goods that were on offer for bargain prices due to the weakness of the dollar were not of interest to the terry towelling pink bonds jumpsuited little satan. I gave up and went back to the hotel. Then it was time for her bottle and she didnt even want it and MORE crying! It seems what she wanted after much crying was to lean her little head on my forearm in a very uncomfortable position for me, while I bounced her around the room and the halls of the hotel. FOR AN HOUR! Then she fell asleep and it wasnt even sleep time! Lazy bastard! But then she was so cute asleep I forgave her for all the pain she had just caused me.....Oh but yes, there was more pain to come. That evening, with a suspected upset tummy from the long flight, she projectile vommited her weight in spew onto me, leaving me with puddles of vommit in the creases of my jeans. THEN, the next day, all comfy on Aunty kristy´s tummy in the Baby Bjorn, Aunty Kristy suddenly feels something wet on her feet. I scream, I THINK BABY BETTY JUST PEED ON MY FEET. As I couldnt see my feet cause the view was being blocked by baby betty bouncing in the baby bjorn, my sister inspects the mysterious liquid. "Um thats not pee its poo" It seems baby bettys upset tummy is still wreaking havoc and american babies have fatter asses that the aussies cause the runny poo escaped out the sides of the ill fitting pampers. As a true trooper mother teeny wipes my feet with a wet wipe, takes the runny poo filled baby (GET HER OFF ME) snaps the baby born on her own body and heads back to the hotel to clean up. Kids are ROTTEN!

Jody (the bride) later joined us and we packed the hire car up to look like national lampoons family vacation. The car was decent sized, my suitcase was small enough to fit in the front seat of the car on the floor, everyone else however had packed as if they were immigrants leaving their countries for good... Teeny packed a GIANT suitcase and then ANOTHER medium sized one... claiming that all of Betty´s 000 sized bonds jumpsuits really do take up alot of room. So we had to make a trip to Kmart which was an adventure in itself, to buy a tarp and things to secure the goods. We had roof racks so we piled Teenys stuff of the top of the car, figuring baby Betty wouldnt care if she lost a few nappies, jumpsuits or her pram, covered it with a tarp and embaressingly drove all the way to Vegas with a bright blue tarp flapping dangerously in the wind. The Vegas mixed CD I had prepared (with great vegas hits such as viva los vegas and a great kenny rogers track) and bought along made us feel cool from the inside of the car but we certainly didnt look cool from the outside.

OK maybe Little betty is cool, both inside and out! So cute!


LA was quite fun, all I can really write about as far as sightseeing is the "tour of the stars homes" limo ride that we took. This was very fun and we of course took vino in the ride to be truly famous looking. The hightlight of the limo right was when we had consumed all of the vino and therefor were busting to pee. Where does a limo stop when its occupants need to go to the toilet? Well of course it stops at the public toilet when George Michael got busted doing dodgy business. Here we are at said toilet... so cool.














Oh and I saw my long lost friend Malko which was AWESOME as the americans would say. New Rule Malko...no wearing watches in gym class! MUA!

SAN FRANCISCO

From New York we caught a plane across to San Francisco with a brief stopover in Chicago airport where we unfortunately did not see Oprah WInfrey (bummer). after arriving in San Fransisco you instantly get the feeling you are by the water, its just got that coastal beach vibe about it. Its just so damn pretty! The architecture, the blue skies, and those streets! Damn they are steep! Everything you imagine and more. We saw some closed ones whose slopes were too dangerous for cars, but methinks you may fall backwards while walking up one...so steep. Mum, who was yelling "taxi" like a true New Yorker at any given second, had a few tantrums at the bottom or top of many of these steep streets. She didnt have a heart attack though and am sure one day (?) will thank me for making her walk the famous Lombard street. Was fantastic to have some great asian meals as they are in very very short supply in seville, we got local in chinatown and had a fabulous chinese meal with a bossy over the top waiter who pretty much forced us to order what he wanted us to.... then the next day got glam and went to a posher chinese restaurant in the Ferry Market building which was just simply divine...I LOVE FOOD!

From San Francisco we hired a car, Mum bought her Tom Tom GPS which HELLO is a travellers DREAM, what an amazing little gadget! It made everything so easy! How many cities have I been lost in! Heaps! Most notably trying to get out of Lisbon to go south and ending up in Benfica which is neither Lisbon nor south. Also missing the turn off for Verona, in Italy not once but 3 times in a row, each time having to try and turn around and come back on the highway and passing that damn Vincenza town the whole damn time... a 1 1/2 trip turned into 4 hours. But not those sorts of troubles with Tom Tom! I love him!

Tom Tom cant solve all problems though. We left San Fran at approx 8:30am... the plan was to cruise on down Highway 1 (USA version of the Great Ocean Road) enjoy the scenery, stop for lunch, see the seals, and arrive in Santa Barbara in the early evening. WELL. We started off well, I bought the best of the Beach Boys to get us in the californian mood, the sun was shining, the views were amazing, lots of cool places to stop and take pics. We stopped at a place to have lunch with amazing views. Twas during this lunch that we saw in the distance, a plume of smoke that kinda looked like a tornado. So we continue our journey, only to be later stopped (about 2.30pm) by higway patrol who said in his most bestest american accent. "Sorry mam, there is an accident and a fire, you have to go back to where you came from" "WE CAME FROM SAN FRANCISCO" I SCREAMED! Highway 1 is one highway, and for a very large part of it, it has no exits as it has coast on one side and lush forest on the other... There was no choice, we had to drive all the way back to the point where you can get the inland 101 highway.... the BORING inland 101! Nooooooo! We even missed the seals! We arrived in Santa Barbara so late there was no time to see anything and we were up at the crack of dawn to head straight to LA airport to pick up my sister teeny and my little niece Baby Betty.

NEW YORK

Being that I havent blogged for ages, I thought it about damn time I blogged about my USA trip and Jodys wedding... so long ago but so much damn fun and looking back on the pics I just want her to get married again.

I visited such great cities they have to be blogged about seperately....

We´ll start in New York...
The plan was to meet Mum in New York. Is there anything more glamorous than meeting someone in New York? Well of course in theory its glamorous but in reality after a 12 hour flight where I got drunk for the first time (love Lufthansa! They passed by after dinner asking if I wanted "Cognac or Baileys" as my after dinner beverage. Of course I accepted a Cognac as Baileys is for wimps, and they presented me with a giant glass of the throat burning and instant sleep inducing Cognac. Nice one.) We co-ordinated flight times perfectly and she arrived a couple of hours before me at JFK airport. We had an exciting reunion, hugs, kisses, but no tears, which was unusual for Mum cause she normally cries at everything, I soon found out why. She said while she was waiting she ordered a coffee so she was alert for my arrival after such a long flight from Sydney, they served her a coffee that contained so much liquid that she could have washed her car with it. She drank it of course and was so very high on the caffeine she was unable to muster even a tear for her long lost daughter.

I always try to stay in the cheapest hotels, and my mum is used to this after doing a bit of travel with me in europe, this hotel was by far one of the worst I had ever stayed it...strangely Marcos recommended it to me, and he loved it! I don´t think he stayed on the same floor as us cause ours was rough, Mums bed had a blood stain on it! I said it was brown and could have just as easily of been poo but that was no consolation. Lucky hers was a double bed and she vowed to sleep on the "clean" side, she is a good sport. We liked the crazy characters that we passed in the hall, one was a loud black prostitute (well maybe she wasnt a prostitute but who wears red lipstick, big hair, heels and tight black capris at 8am?) a sweet looking russian prostitute (well maybe she wasnt a prostitute but who wears a night dress and heels through the hallways of a dodgy hostel and leaves her door slightly ajar to see only a bed surrounded by 50 tealight candles?) and a man who looked homeless but he wasn´t homeless obviously cause he lived at the hostel. They were our savoury neighbours for the duration of our stay. I told Mum to toughen up, the New York experience calls for a level of danger!

On the first day we met up with an old friend Lidia, supposedly just for lunch, but of course when the kids from Blacktown come out to play, lunch turns into 3 cocktails at a bar afterwards and stumbling through the streets of New York trying on hats in random shops. My first cosmopolitans for the trip so it needed to happen. That evening Mum and I had tickets for the broadway show called "Jersey Boys" we had both bought special outfits and accessories for our Broadway theatre experience but of course after a bottle of wine and 3 cocktails during the day there was no time for glamour and we needed to fill in a bit of time before the show.
We came across this bar, the russian vodka bar that advertised an "attitude adjustment hour". I told Mum that she had a serious attitude problem and that the russians needed to adjust it. She agreed that she had a very bad attitude too so we went to try and adjust it with some more cosmopolitans.




We were starting to see a common theme in america, everything was giant. Mum ordered an ice tea and it was twice the size of her head, she drank about 1/8th of the thing! Too giant! We stopped at a deli for sandwiches, the sandwiches had about 80 slices of meat on them! Mine came with a side of chips, they were the size of my head! (americans must measure everything with their head, fuck rulers!) We couldnt stop laughing at the sheer absurdity of it!

I loved all the New York accents, like on TV but in real life! We went to a gospel church in Harlem where the pastor did not disappoint with his "Praise the Lord" deep loud, african american sounding voice. One guy was fighting with his girlfriend on the street, she was walking ahead defiantly and he was tagging behind, baggy pants and all shouting, "Fuck you biiitch, you want some other nigga, plenty otha niggas out there for ya" It was just so exciting! One glamorously dressed couple near central park stopped to give us directions and then came out with an accent like Nanny Fine! Straight from Queens! So cool!

Campeones, Campeones, o eh o eh o eh!!!

Last weekend we went to see Jack Johnson in Barcelona. I have been to Barcelona twice already and really like it, but it was Marcos´s first time there. Very bad spanish boy! Its nice going to a big spanish city but I wouldnt change living in Sevilla for anything. Sevilla is far too lovable. We went with spanish friends Isabel & Domingo who are also fans of Jack Johnson. Isabel has family and a few friends in Barcelona so on the Friday night after we arrived we all met for a big dinner in the Raval district of Barcelona. This is known to be a bit of a dodgy district and it was funny seeing so many dodgy types and prostitutes hanging about, we dont get much of that in sevilla. We had a big dinner and I tried for the first time...wait for it.... kidneys! Pork kidneys that is not human kidneys, I am no canibal. One of the shared dishes we ordered was a plate of mixed meat an out came some of the old kidneys, I didnt know what they were at first but to be honest they were the first thing on the plate that caught my eye cause they looked so tasty. Most of the spanish turned their noses up on the kidneys in disgust (although they would quite happily eat the cheek or other gross parts!) but I was feeling brave and gave it a go. It was ncie! I couldnt quite get out of my head what really it was but it had the texture of the tough bit of a mushroom so I just kept thinking about that.
Saturday night was Jack Johnson and he rocked! Well maybe he is too mellow to say he actually rocked but I though he was great. I couldnt believe how many people were there considering most spanish people dont know who he is, granted there were a damn lot of guiris (foreigners) and specifically a damn lot of aussies! I actually saw a few blue bonds truckdriver singlets! Noice.

Marcos speaks english really well, we dont speak much in spanish which is really bad for me but we´ve always spoken in english so its hard to break the habit. Of course he often makes small mistakes, I can always understand him and dont even notice it enough to correct him. He also often says sentences that because they are translated literally from spanish to english, I understand him cause I know what it would be in spanish and it doesnt sound so weird to me...however of course, sometimes he does make language faux pa´s, mostly in public, like for example a common swear word is "me cago en la madre que te pario" which means "I shit on the mother that gave birth to you" in spanish its used alot, you can even say it joking, maybe even when someone puts down a good card in Uno, between friends...but in english is pretty damn harsh...Marcos has tried to say "I shit on your mother" in english and I have to demand he simply not say it cause he just may get shot. Well on the way back from the concert I questioned Marcos about some change he had to give Domingo for some beers, Marcos exclaimed in a loud voice "Yeah, I put my hand in my ass and I found coins!" There were a couple of english speakers in front of us who laughed at this and he knew he had said something wrong but couldnt work out what! He meant to say he put his hand in his back pocket and found the coins... I would never correct this cause I know what he means but yes maybe I should do a bit more correcting so he doesnt get publicly laughed at and people dont think he puts coins up his ass.

We arrived back on Sunday afternoon, ready for the final of the Euro Cup between Spain & Germany. Marcos was nervous all weekend, and couldnt stop counting down the hours till the game. The previous 2 games, against Italy (spains nemesis) and Russia we watched at our friends Maria & Miguels house. For these games we started a custom of wearing all red (I didnt have anything red so wore a dress of maria´s) and drinking the national beverage of the country. For Italy we had Italian Pinot Griggio white wine & vodka for russia. For this final match no-one wanted to jinx so we all wore the same clothes, shoes and drank german beer, we had to watch it at Maria & Miguels place as changing locations would have been bad luck. Isabel came this time to watch the final and Marcos said if Spain starts playing shit he will have to kick her out of the house as she may be a jinx! Bastard!

I dont like sport at all but a final is exciting I must say, and only cause spain was playing. It was fun when spain scored the first and only winning goal (spain won 1-0) and everyone went mental. There were some tense moments but spain dominated the game and it was a good win. Here is Marcos, Domingo and Miguel after the first goal was scored.





Here we are in the final minute of the game getting ready for the win.











Here we are after the whistle blows. Marcos and Domingo running to the window to scream and everyone bips their horns in the streets and you can hear the cheers from all the surrounding bars/apartments.





Miguel opens a bottle of champers and we all decide to head to Puerta de Jerez a square with a fountain in the centre of seville where everyone seems to go after a big win. (Although Spain hadnt won anything in 44 years, but they go there when the Seville team win something)





We walked towards the square, and we see that the spanish flag is out in full force and everyone is dressed in red & yellow.
The square was packed with people, jumping up and down, singing, chanting, "Si Si Si La copa ya esta aqui" and "campeones, campeones o eh o eh o eh". It was madness and oh so much fun!

Summer Pool Party

Its freakin hot here! After a slow start to the hot weather we´ve had 2 weeks of 38 deg weather...and the forcast is that temperatures will rise due to a saharan wind comin on in! I mean really...saharan wind!? I remember my canadian friends once telling me about the "arctic wind" that freezes the shit out of them if it comes their way, and now we have a saharan wind... hold on to your sunscreen people we may get fried. It reminds me of that scene in Terminator where the people spontaneously combust at the park. I hope that doesnt happen here. So yes yes, pretty damn hot, horario de verano (summer working hours) havent started yet (8-3 workday) and I am astounded every day as to why the hell sevilla doesnt have any more damn public pools. In OZ, we are surrounded by the sea, heaps of people we know have swimming pools and most suburbs have public swimming pools. Seville has public swimming pools but they are indoor and generally only for exercise. You cant swim in the river (throw in a bit of chlorine I say, who needs the fish, we need WATER!). You can drive 1 hour to the beach but every other person in seville has that same idea so the traffic to/from the beach on any weekend is outrageous. I am on a quest to find a hotel that will let me use their swimming pool... I am on the case with a few of the americans and with a few low cut tops and extra clevage we hope we can convince some fool to let us laze by the pool. (Seville is empty in summer, why not!?)
One of the rarely seen americanitas Deidre, but she calls herself Isa cause the spanish cant cope with Deidre! (she just had a baby and lives in the country so we dont get to see her much) decided to be kind to all us sufferers and have a pool party last weekend! Heaven! The pool party was held in Sanlucar la Mayor a village 19km outside seville.

If there wasnt so much spanish tiling covering the outside of her house I would have been able to pretend I was at an aussie BBQ. We drank and ate all day and played with the cutie little newborn Roberto, or Bobby his american AKA.... look at this cute little fattie boombah!












Here is Sarah looking very Marbella lazing in the pool with a very not marbella botellin of Cruzcampo.... the spanish stubby of choice.



We were very careful mixing such safe drinking in the sun combinations such as beer, pimms and lemonade, champagne and rasberry juice.

For dessert, the americans introduced me to an american summer camping tradition of S´Mores, they claim to be called this cause you always want some more.... so first you toast marshmallows in the fire. (I felt like I was in an american movie doing this....fun!) you try not to burn it, mine was black in about 3 seconds I put right in the fire no one told me there was a strategy...damn americans! You wait till the marshmallow is to your liking (black) and then you pair it with a slab of chocolate between some graham biscuits to make a chocoalte and marshmallow sandwich... it is tasty but kinda disgusting at the same time.

Im at work now and my workmates just came in and said that the street thermometres are saying its 44 deg! Jesus Cristo! I might have to start wearing a turban! Ok I dont know if turbans fight the heat but all the middle eastern dessert dwellers are always wearing them so it may help....

Santa Luzia, Portugal.

I know, I know, I´ve been here a million times. I just love it, the Santa Luzia apartment isnt ours but we pretend it is. The spanish gang havent stayed at the apartment before so we took them there, had a lovely weekend doing what we do best there, eating, drinking and relaxing. I made a New York themed dinner on the Saturday night, the spanish girls had never had a Cosmopolitan before, The horror! After drinking about 100 of them they may well never have another...Viva Portugal!

London. A Damn good weekend!

I havent been blogging cause I like to blog in chronological order and the wedding/USA trip blog is half written and the wedding/USA trip photos are half sorted and Ive been busy (for spain) at work and havent been able to get my shiz together.
So Ive decided to forget about the wedding/USA trip blog until I get all that sorted and just continue posting about other things easier to write a shorter blog about with not so many pics to chose from.

So here brings me to now. well, maybe not now, mid May, 1 1/2 weeks after I got back from the USA I went to visit Mick in London for the weekend to see his new apartment and give him my very important approval of this big purchase. As you can see from the pics its a great little place and perfect for Mick.


What a damn good weekend I had! Marcos and I lived in London a few years back, I was never very keen on loving there, Spain was always calling me back, but as a place to visit, especially with a good friend to catch up with, London is a fucking great place to go! Comparably, Sevilla is like a village and its great to visit the big smoke, restaurants, shopping, theatre, cocktails!

I always crave asian food when I am away from Sevilla and London did not disappoint. After a spot of shopping on Saturday morning we went to a fabulous dumpling restaurant and ordered this tower of dumplings. Yum.



During lunch Mick got a call from his friend Glen asking if we wanted his tickets to go see Madonna at a big outdoor concert...Um HELL YES! Mick and bought us tickets to go to the theatre that afternoon, we went to the theatre saw an interesting play about a drunkard crazy mother and her fucked up children which was interesting to say the least, there was even some nudity when the son lost it and stripped off, shook his ass to the audience and there was some interesting ball shaking visuals through his legs. Nice.

We left the theatre, nipped over to pick up said tickets and made it to see Madonna, the last act at the concert at 9pm. Mick and I have an ongoing argument about madonna, I cant stand her preaching, complete with images of starving children in Africa, whilst dressed in Jean Paul Gaultier and thrusting her hips, not to mention her guitar playing. But her music is catchy and she certainly does put on a good show so we had a damn good time and I vowed to keep my opinions to myself for the moment.

Sunday was breakfast in the sun (I really miss going out for breakfast! Spain doesnt have a big going out for breakfast culture...) and shopping at Spitafields markets with the lovely Jane.

Here is Mick with some slimy oysters.







Early evening we met up with Lady P and the lovely Stephanie and it was really great to catch up with these gals who are so much fun. We had Thai, yum yum yum at Busaba an old favourite.

Baby Betty is growing fast.

I know I am still yet to blog about the wedding, its such a big blog to prepare and I just havent had the time...

In the meantime here is a pic of little Betty smiling for her aunty Kristy wearing the TShirt I bought her from Hooters in Vegas. Every new born needs a TShirt from Hooters.

MOTO

The word for motorbike in spanish is moto, I think this word is much cooler and we should all start using it instead of motorbike.

SO, I havent blogged for freakin ages because I spent most of April in the US of A travelling around with Mum and then attending Jody´s wedding. This requires its own blog entry so I wont talk about it here just yet but will be coming soon...

In the meantime I thought Id post some of the hilarious pics of me on the moto, as Ive said in previous blogs, my new job is located in a "village" outside of seville. I started by catching the bus and if I didnt already drink regularly, this would have driven me to the bottle, catching buses to the village ever day is so very boring and takes oh so long. Anyway, so a new girl started at my work, and it so happened that she lived near me, had a really fucking cool motorbike, a spare helmet (which I like to call elmut in a german accent) and didnt mind a paquete (package) as they call the passenger here. So for the past 6 weeks Ive been going to work on the moto and loving every damn minute of it. Simutaneously going through my brain whilst on the moto were these 2 thoughts. 1. Im going to die, Im going to die. and 2. This is so much FUN! I mean I really did love it so much! I didnt blog about this before cause I didnt want to worry my poor old Mum who probably wouldnt have slept for 6 weeks if she knew I was cruising up the highway, on a cool moto every morning. In complete defense of my driver, Ana she is no speed freak and is a chilled out and careful driver.

How big does the helmut look on me!!?? Im a lollypop head! Safety frist though, that baby fit my noggin like a glove! Here is Ana outside our village office getting a good possie by the gutter for me to hop on.







I asked my friend at work German (looks like german but you really say his name like Herman, sounds like he would be a nerd but he is really cool - Argentinian!) if I looked like a rock star and he said I look more like a lesbian. Bastard.

Holy Week Batman

Holy Week has passed for another year. Its an exciting time of year but I am damn glad it is OVA! The streets are pumping and full of people. I can hear the beats of the drums and music from my house at almost all hours of the day.
There are nazarenos (those types doing penance that wear the KKK looking pointy hats with the eyes cut out.) cover the streets on their way to/from their procession. Its Seville´s busiest time of year and those sevillanos surely love their holy week.

All these photos complements of Jo...my camera is broken...
Tuesday night I couldnt get into my apartment cause a procession was passing right by my door. Had to wait till the giant jesus and virgin passed and then the people scattered on their way to see another jesus or virgin pass by at some other random point in the city.

Last year we were bad, (well we had just moved into a new place) and saw no processions. We hibernated in the house and avoided processions at all costs with out handy little Holy Week daily map book. (Most people use it to follow the processions but we use it to avaoid them) It seems the only time we go out to see any is when we have visitors who have come to see Holy Week and we must take them out to show them whats what, where to go and which virgin is which, clarifications that are very very important. This year we had mystery guests stay. Long story but when I was studying spanish here in 2003, I met a fab Canadian called Kristie Anne, her friend Lia was in Madrid working as an aupair and studying spanish just like us and she came down to Seville many times to hang with us. We also became friends and still keep in contact....anyways, her sister and her sisters boyfriend who live in London, came and stayed with us for Holy Week. I´d never met them before but I know that Lia is lovely and lots of fun so I was positive her sister would be too. I was right, Mia and Mike were lovely and great guests and they thankfully didnt kill us in our sleep!
We also had, although not officially "guests" but still guests to seville, as they stayed in a hotel, friends from London. Mike (2 Mike´s at once!) who met Amanda in London when he saw her at some rugby final drinking beer at 11am and decided he wanted to be friends with her. They became pals and amanda later rented a flat from him, which I, then Marcos later moved into. So officially he was our landlord but we met him at the pub for trivia night and in the park for dinners on the heath, so he was more of a pal that we gave money to once a month. Anyway, so Mike and his lady Jo were also in Seville and we had a great time hanging out and catching up with them. Its so nice to see old friends, freakin fun people!

Here we are having tapas at our favourite tapas place. Note the tiles of the virgin behind me... I am sure this was the virgin that left this church and blocked my way home last Tuesday night! Damn Virgins!

Chilean Dinner

This dinner was actually celebrated a while ago but naughty Maria just sent me the pics... These guys are my "spanish friends" I have other spanish friends and workmates but these guys are my favourites! L-R Domingo, Miguel, Marcos, Me, Isabel & Maria. I have spoken about this crowd before. Domingo & Miguel both ran the marathon with Marcos (freaks!). We often meet up for genearl revelry and we also take turns having a "themed" dinner at each couples house. Themed meaning that we chose a country and cook up a storm. Maria & Miguel had just gotten back from Chile so they went spaz at the supermarket in Chile and bought things for the dinner on their return. We drank Chilean red wine and Pisco Sour cocktails (Yum!) ate clams and a spicy salad for entree, empanadas, corn soup and yummy lamb cutlets. This pic of us was taken just before Marcos spilled his whole glass of red wine all over the tablecloth and his and the 2 spare emapanadas. Cant take him anywhere. And look at me, dang Ive got the shoulders of a front row forward with posture issues. I had to make the photo B & W cause my face was just so red. damn red wine. Its our turn for the dinner next and we have a New York themed dinner in the works, (in homage to our upcoming USA adventure!) including Cosmopolitan cocktails which these spanish kids have never tried! The Horror!

Little Betty´s first smile

Well I dont know if its her first smile but certainly the first one Ive seen. Show us yer gums!

Pretty Manda!

My lovely friend Amanda was recently bridesmaid at her friend Renae´s wedding. Just thought I´d put a pic of her on my blog cause she just looks so stunning! I miss you Amanda! Mua! xx

The Marathon

No dont get carried away, i DID NOT run any marathon. I would NEVER run a marathon, my running career ended with the 12km race I did a couple of years back where 6 hours after the race I still thought I was going to die. Marcos, 2 of our friends Domingo & Miguel AND Mary Anne, go girl, one of the americanitas, all ran the marathon a couple of weeks ago here in Seville. Marcos had been training regularly for this and was completely into it after running his first marathon in Madrid (with no training...Freak!) a while back. He started eating healthier, (no more choclate milk and broken biscuits for breakfast!) and with all the training he actually lost crap loads of weight and is a shadow of his former tubbier self. The race was on a sunday and I had to forgo my normal "sleep in till midday" sunday rule and be a model marthon racer girlfriend. I went along at 9.30 am (shudder) to the 10km mark with Marcos´s Mum to be there to pass Marcos his first bottle of blue powerade and an energy bar as he whizzed past. Marcos´s father was all nervous excitement and went along on his bike to follow Marcos!! Marcos said at one point he told his father to get the hell away from him (very suble the spanish are). Then I met up with Miguels model marathon runner girlfriend Maria, who had a map with strategically marked points that Miguel had prepared for her and "energy gel" to pass on to Miguel. We went to the 20km mark to pass the gels, bars and powerades like good little girlfriends and cheer as they went past. It was actually quiet exciting, I liked cheering on random people and its nice to see strangers there just cheering the people on for support.

We then went on to the 30km (in a car of course) where we met Isabel, who made it with only seconds to spare to see her husband Domingo whizz past her. (here he is, looks like he is running to the shops!) All three of us then rushed to the stadium, and we were rushing, even running at one point, I mean REALLY. why again?


We made it to the stadium to see each one finish.
Here is MaryAnne finishing, just behind Marcos, and actually came in 11th place out of the women! Good effort!!!




Here is Miguel finishing, he is SMILING! He saw us in the crowd thats why and we were cheering like he was Kathy Freeman winning the 400m at the olympics.

Marcos finished in 3hours 27minutes and was very happy with himself cause he wanted to beat his fathers own sevilla marathon 3h30min family record. Although never one to be beaten his father added later that he did it as a 45 year old so that has to count for a few minutes extra! I was told later that around the 25km point, Marcos´s Dad was riding his bike and filming Marcos and he ran into a "señora" and completely stacked it off his bike! He is 63! Bloody maniac! He was fine except for some sore ribs!? and got back on the bike and continued filming!
We all went for a beautiful lunch afterwards and I said to the other girls, "20 bucks says that every sentence from now on out of the boys mouths will start with..." At kilometre blah blah" And yes I was right, but it wasnt just for the day it went along for the whole next week, along with the screaming of pain everytime Marcos moved. Mmm marathons. Fun.

Updates

Ay! So whats been happening since I last wrote.... well for one, I went skiing. I havent been rushing to write a blog about this cause we only took a couple of photos and none of me! Oh the horror! We went for Marcos´s 33rd birthday, we skied for 2 days and stayed overnight only one night right on the slopes. I haven´t been skiing for a couple of years, I was never really good at it, but I could ski and didnt fall down too much, this time though....different story. I think I skied worse than on my first ever day learning. Granted the sun was beaming and Andalucia had spring type weather the previous weeks, meaning no snow. So it was completely icy. Thats my excuse anyway. I could barely tackle the beginner runs, and I fell over 4 times on the first day... not just some tumbles some BIG falls. One where I fell on my face, dont ask me how I managed that but it happened, lost control, twisted facing the hill and face first snow sandwich. Then the fear of falling got into me and I spent the rest of the day and the following, ocasionally falling, and having a tantrum at the top of almost all the hills. Marcos didnt have the fear of god put into him and was skiing like a bandit and only fell once when he was waiting at the bottom of a hill for me, doing nothing, just standing then bam, on his ass. There was also once incident where I was shocked and impressed to see Marcos skiing backwards, wow, he is a maniac but he can actually do it, Marcos told me later that he didnt do it on purpose, was just waiting for me and started going backwards, couldnt stop and just kept going, he twisted around the right way at the end and if he hadnt of told me it was an accident i would think he should be in training for the winter olympics.
So we stayed overnight in a cute little apartment overlooking the mountains. We were absolutely exhausted after the first day of skiing but as it was Marcos birthday I made him a big pasta dinner and we had champagne. When you are that tired and exhausted, alcohol does funny things to you. We were completely drugged and we could barely string sentences together. Really. We collapsed into bed at 930pm and when Marcos Mum woke us up ringing us at 10pm, Marcos looked at the ringing phone in his hand for 10 seconds before he realised it was a ringing phone and he had to answer it. Then he started talking to his Mum in english! Next day he doesnt even remember that she called. And we didnt even finish the champagne! Disgrace!

Also in breaking news... I got a job!! Its for an advertising agency here in Seville. www.thebrandweb.com if youre interested in checking it out. I started exactly the day after I finished at my last job so there was no time for rest. And its true that its not what you know but who you know. I got the job through my now friend, Isabel, who was my boss at my first job here in Seville. She now works for the equivalent of the state government and the company that I now work for is doing a massive campaign for them. She works for the department of innovation and information so there are lots of projects relating to the web. It is really quite interesting and I am quite excited about the job. However.... they have a minimum work day of 9am to 8pm!!! MINIMUM! I mean REALLY! Its also in the middle of nowhere, in a village just outside of seville city. I cant even ride my bike there! sob sob. She has been left at home since last week and will probably RUST! Noooooo! I have to take a bus. The horror! The money is better than my last job so i shouldnt complain toooo much... You aussies would be shocked to know what I earn, (approx 25K AU$) compared to OZ wages, Spain is 3rd world. The cost of living is alot cheaper here but still.... wages are LOW! And what I earn is considered good here! Before I was on approx 20KAU$! and in design here its very very normal to earn alot less. So I should feel lucky to be working 10 hours a day in spanish village... yeah lucky real lucky. Stop it Kristy. Positive thinking. Breathe. (I have these little talks with myself sometimes).

Well who doesnt need their day to be brightened up with this photo of Little Baby Betty. She is getting bigger now and starting to look like a real person instead of the alien she was before. OK she is still alien like but maybe just a little less. Precious! NOTE TO SISTER: BRING HER TO VEGAS.


Hmm someone needs supermodel training. SHOULDERS BACK! Look at the camera dammit! and SMILE! Or maybe my sister needs supermodel mother training, pull her little top down so you can see she actually has a neck even if it doesnt work yet, please.



Maybe my sister was wearing a low cut top and Betty was hungry, she does look like shes got her mind on other things. I even think that skirt looks a little flamenco style. I think I might have to get her some spotted flamenco heels to go with this outfit. (You can actually get them here for babies - they are so cute!)