The Day My World Was Shaken (TDMWWS)

(This story is the prelude of “what makes a good life”…you will see what these things are in the articles to follow). Considering my age, my experience, and how many relationships I’ve had, I am very fortunate that this is the first time in my life I’ve felt heartbreak.  Some of you might be hating on me right now, but just hear me out. Yes, I have felt heartache after my previous relationships ended…..but…..well, I’ve never been the one to receive the break-up.

However…..I expect receiving the bad news in a mature and decent manner is one thing….but experiencing what I experienced….was quite another.  I thought I had some serious feelings for this person….our history is a little long and complicated, but now is not the time for that. Through this dealing process I now know that I didn’t have serious feelings for him…but serious infatuation. Lust. So I will refer to him as so.

Lust and I had this interesting and very casual long-distance thing going for quite some time. And finally, through an internship, we would be living in the same city for the first time in our “relationship.” Fantastic.

When Lust arrived in Madrid, he proposed the idea of only seeing eachother. Really? I was stunned. But I was ecstatic. So…in 3 weeks we were together a lot. It was pretty spectacular. And it also got “real” pretty quickly…..and I saw some red flags….but hey, Lust wants to finally do this, so it’s okay….I convinced myself the red flags were more of a light pink….

Lust and I spent an awesome weekend together scubadiving…well I was getting certified, and he was already certified. We also had our first fight that weekend. Nothing big…frankly I was scared shitless of this scubadiving thing, and the day of my test….well I needed some comfort. I’m a strong chick, but I’m a chick…and sometimes we need to be comforted damnit. Well Lust just slept and didn’t do anything. So I got pissed and stormed out of the hotel room.  We talked about it later that evening like adults….and everything was good.

Well 2 days after that Lust felt we shouldn’t see eachother anymore.  I thought I was meeting him at a café to talk about things he’s had on his mind. I was not at all expecting this. For real? I would have thought that when somebody is about to dump you, you are kind of expecting it. Yes, the news probably stops your breath for a moment, but deep down I would imagine most people know it’s coming. I had no idea. We had a lot of plans for the summer. Not to mention, the master plan was to gives “us” the summer….to finally see where this could go…and then figure out what we were going to do in the fall once the long-distance became a factor again.

So not only did I get dumped completely unexpectedly…..as he knew it too, because as soon as he said “I don’t think we should see eachother anymore” he said “I know this may seem like it’s coming out of left field…” Um….yes…..yes it does….. he also threw in a bunch of shocking accusations, then the cruelty. Who was this stranger in front of me?

I was stunned. I got up and left….before I started yelling….or crying….or puking. Who knew what could happen, so I left. And I walked around Madrid for about 2 hours. Everything looked different. Everything felt different. I felt completely lost.

TDMWWS: Infatuation is bad, and not real

It’s amazing how powerful infatuation can be…even for the smart and intuitive ones that know better. I was infatuated. With a person I will refer to as “Lust.” I thought Lust was the greatest thing and he could do no harm. The truth is, Lust has a LOT of good qualities…aside from being very attractive and sexy, he is extremely smart, ambitious, and has already traveled the world at a young age. A very appealing candidate for me. And all of his “stupid acts” I brushed off as immaturity. And yes, most of them were. But there were a few BIG warning signs an infatuated person does not see. LOVE is NOT blind. Infatuation is.

I’m not sure how I got so carried away. That’s never happened to me before. Yes, looking back, my previous relationships all had a level of infatuation involved. But none this great. And never had I had to suffer such repercussions.

When one is infatuated, you put that other person on a pedestal. And you start conforming to their ways. You slowly start to lose yourself. Well luckily for me, I could be infatuated from afar, as Lust and I never lived in the same place. I had put him on a pedestal, but I hadn’t conformed…..until we were finally living in the same place for 3 weeks. Being in the same place we finally had the chance to get to know one another. In the past, Lust and I always “played it cool”—nothing serious. Well now Mr. Cool was having reactions the complete opposite of “playing it cool” and was acting jealous and insecure. At first I took this as a positive sign---“oh good he does like me!” Infatuation made me have blur vision. And I slowly started changing my character…. I wasn’t being “me”---and deep down, I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I wanted Lust to be real and true. The fact is, I started seeing these signs about a month before we were living in the same place…because we were getting closer, and perhaps he was letting his guard down a bit.

Infatuation didn’t let me see anything clearly. I look back on things that happened nearly a year ago and ask myself, “are you serious, you just ‘accepted’ that?” In the last few months, I built a world for us….a happy fantasy world. I ignored all of the red flags because that is what you do when you are infatuated. I didn’t SEE. After our so-called “relationship” ended, I discovered some big lies he told me…..wow, double side-swiped. I was not only depressed and felt a great sense of loss because of something I created so magical in my head was now gone, but now I know Lust (infatuation) is a liar…double blow to my fantasy world. What was this reality? Who was this real person?

Don’t we become wiser with age? How is it I never dealt with such bullshit before? I mean, I suppose we all have to at some point….but wow. Maybe had I not been so infatuated, I could have seen, really seen, Lust for who he is. The real him. Who he really is, is not at all the person I put on that pedestal. Poor guy, that was a lot for him to live up to. I wanted to love the person I created, the fictitious person I believed in. A very dangerous thing when that person was never real.

Cheers to reality, and loving from that place. Because if you can love knowing all that is real, then you know you’ve found real love.

The Day My World Was Shaken Pt 1: Believe in People

Ah….the day was world was shaken. This topic has several parts….I’m not sure just how many yet…so, from now on I will refer to this as TDMWWS…..and you will eventually know all about it.

TDMWWS was such a slap in the face….kick in the stomach….a world filled with heartbreak. Why??  Because it all came down to believing in the wrong person. For a full year! My own darn fault….I’ll come back to that later…

Literally, the next day, I received more disheartening news that also involved believing in the wrong person. I knew in my gut, what I had needed to do, but my head had told me to believe in a friend that needed help. Well, I was really let down. And that was it. For 2-3 days, I’d had it with humanity. Very dramatic, I know, but that’s exactly how I felt. Done with everyone. Done. So done.

But then…..I had a life-changing experience. Yes, “life-changing.”…..and that is called Pueblo Ingles…..I will refer to this as PI. PI is an English-intensive program that lasts one week. There is a group of Spaniards and a group of native English speakers…otherwise know as “Anglos.” There is an equal amount of people in both groups. The program generally takes place in a small village somewhere in Spain. The program I was in was in a precious little pueblo called La Alberca.

Now, TDMWWS occurred just 1 day before I was scheduled to go on this PI thing. And quite frankly, the LAST thing I wanted to do was get on a frickin bus for 5 hours with a bunch of people I didn’t know and have to socialize. I was angry. I was depressed. And I hated everyone. BUT, my wise self knew better….I knew I had to go. Plus I had reserved my spot months ago and knew that cancelling last minute would be a crappy thing to do to the program. And, I have a very good friend, the one who told me about this program and who has done it 7 times, who was NOT going to let me back out and made sure I got on that bus (thank you Martin!). And thank goodness I did.

I cannot explain this program. It’s just something I would recommend to anybody and everybody. The slogan of PI is “more than just English.” And that’s all I can say. 70 of us spent about 12 hours a day together (or more when we went out late night), 7 days a week, and we all became so close. Like a family. It was this crazy bonding experience I’ve never experienced before. And for whatever reason…maybe it was from the comfort in strangers, the fresh mountain air, or the wine, but we all opened up to eachother about everything. Complete trust. And I truly was in the presence of 69 beautiful human beings. We laughed, we cried, we danced, we ate, we drank….. The gifts I received from them are indescribable.

I have seen several of them since the program….and I have plans on seeing a few more in the next couple of weeks. Solid new friendships have been made. People are always going to let you down….that’s life. But humanity is not a lost cause….there is in fact good reason to believe in people. And I much rather believe and love and be let down from time to time, then to have a closed heart and be dead. It can be tough….but with the right people, it’s so damn worth it.

Cheers to believing.

~ws

Re-Invented

Hey everyone….welcome…and to some of you, welcome back. I’m sort of re-inventing this blog. No more videos. It’s now a literary only blog…..well maybe with photos at times. My posts are still inspired by what it is that makes a good life. Again, these are only my opinions. You don’t have to agree…you don’t have to like my ideas….you can even think I’m completely nuts. It’s your life afterall.

But sometimes, when one is really inspired, or has their world “shaken” a bit, they may feel compelled to share. Share the wealth? Hopefully. Life is crazy and fun and beautiful and hard and exhausting and so many other things. But we’re all in this together. ...

So if I can connect with just one of you out there….then that is everything.

And if not, that's okay, and at least I was able to ramble.

The universe loves its balance…and it will bring us gifts that elevate our spirits to levels beyond comprehension, almost at the same time it will “gift” us with what we perceive to be absolute bullshit. Excuse my French.

That “perception” is a tricky thing.

So thank you for reading, and please know your comments are always welcome.

Cheers to a good life,

~ws

The Bullfight (To My Vegetarian Friends Please Don't Read and Love Me Anyway)

Disclaimer: I did not have my wonderful camera with me…the one that has video and gives me nice photos—this was a spontaneous trip (the best kind)—so I apologize for the crappy phone photos ahead of time.

So just moments after I got off the plane from Portugal and still at the airport, my friend Diego informs me he has a “superplan” for us that day…..but he wasn’t sure if it would be my “cup of tea” (his English is perfect and he knows more English slang than I do). He will explain the details over lunch….

A bullfight in his cousin’s town, about an hour and half outside of Madrid…..oye. I went to a bullfight in France several years ago and I remember strongly disliking it. But hey I’m still on spring break! And an authentic experience with the locals is what I thrive on…so why not? I’m always up for an adventure.

This small town is situated in Avila, which is stunning. Rocky mountains, streams, waterfalls, the greenery…wow. But this isn’t about nature right now….the bullfight.

So we get to the Plaza de Toro (arena/stadium) and there’s a bit of a what appears to me as a “tailgating” scene happening. Great. Sunshine, lots of people, so we have some cocktails outside in the crowd. So far so good. Then we go inside as it’s time to start.

Why this small town of 8,000 has so many attractive people living in it I have no idea. First I thought they were visitors from a big city….no, most of them are local. And many were here at the bullfight. As well as some famous bullfighter who was sitting near us with his very pretty trophy wife. I thought I was back in Beverly Hills.

So the first matador (bullfighter) comes into the arena on a horse. Beautiful….so graceful. I love horses. Oh right….the bull. And the whole killing thing that was about to happen…..so as it turns out, this first matador was the “worst” one (after sitting through this whole damn thing he did get the lowest score---if you can use the word “score?”—I’ll get back to that later). And he deserved it. And a smack in the face. And a kick in the ass. When he went in for the final kill, he positioned his sword incorrectly, because what happened next was one of the worse things I have ever seen. I felt like I was watching a horror movie. Oh the blood. Blood started gushing…GUSHING…out of the bull’s nose, spraying everywhere….in the air, all over the wall the bull was stumbling against. It was absolutely horrifying. I gasped and let out a small noise and looked away. I had my sunglasses on thank goodness, as I started to cry and had to do everything in my power not to completely break down. But I wanted to sob. As I was with Diego, Diego’s cousin, her husband, and a few more people…and as the “foreigner” these very nice people were quite attentive to my well-being….was I a having a good time, was I enjoying myself, etc….This was tricky. Those that know me well know that I have no problems voicing my opinion. What in the world do I say???? I don’t want to be disrespectful. But yet I want to be me. I was invited, they paid for my ticket (and these events aren’t cheap), and I don’t want to offend anyone. So I politely say, “It’s a very interesting experience, and I didn’t like the way the first bull was killed.” Translation (excuse my French): “I fucking hate this, I have to sit through the murder of 5 more fucking bulls!!?? I want to get the hell out of here, you people are all sick!” But alas, I refrained.

Thankfully the first killing was the worst. But that will be my last bullfight I ever attend. It was interesting. The way the judges decide on the matador’s performance….does he get one ear, two ears, two ears AND the tail?? Or nothing? The way the people stand up waving their white handkerchiefs in excitement after each fight, trying to convince the judges to give the matador at least one of the bull’s body parts. The beautiful clothing of each matador. I did see a famous one….Cayetano. His father was a famous bullfighter that died in a fight. And Cayetano also happens to be an Armani model. All of the women LOVE him. He’s handsome but I don't understand all of the hype…but I also haven’t seen him in his underwear….

Post bullfight. Now this made everything worthwhile! This UNDOUBTEDLY has been one of the best experiences I’ve had in Spain thus far. Boy do these small towns know how to party. We end up in the very old Spanish restaurant….pretty small place. Bull heads all over the walls (see above), and pictures of matadors and bullfights everywhere. NO I CAN’T ESCAPE IT! We order a couple of plates of food to share (I will forever live my life the Spanish way with tapas/pinchos/sharing of plates—frickin love it). The food was incredible! Fresh and delicious. Okay I can forgive the interior designer now. This small place was already fairly full of people, but as the night went on it became packed. The young hot people I saw earlier started coming in, the old people that were already there were still there, and then there was everyone in between. This was awesome to see. Such a mix of people in one place! So of course this made for very interesting conversation with the various people I talked to…in my poor Spanish. And as it got later, the music got louder. Until it was a full-on dance party. What??? Modern music, 22 year-olds dancing next to 82 year-olds….Where the hell am I???? Never have I seen or experienced anything like this…not to this degree. I danced my ass off. And had the time of my life. A big thank you to my friend Diego. Truly an experience that I will never forget.

But the thing is…..these damn bullfights are what create this kind of culture. The party. The whole small town coming together for a good time…..as you can imagine, this leaves me perplexed and confused. They need to modify these fights…..like not kill or torture these bulls. Why not leave it as an art…like it is the first 2 mins before they put any daggers into this poor animal (insert debate starting now with a Spanish person)? The way the matador moves with the bull and red blanket (whatever it’s called) is actually quite beautiful. So quit while you’re ahead! Leave it at that…..if Spain bans bullfighting (as Catalunya already has as of recently…but they’re not really Spain anyways) these kind of parties will also die out. Keep the bullfights just don’t kill the bulls. Easy. And the parties shall go on.....

I did it...I finally moved to Spain!

Hola everyone,

Well roughly 10 years in the making, I finally got the courage to up and move to Spain. Madrid baby! What a city...what a culture....absolutely loving it. But I'm not on vacation!! This is now my new home. And this has been an interesting adjustment....

A. I don't speak Spanish

B. I need to find a job (not very easy for Americans to do this...the right way ;) )

C. But I'm in Spain so all I want to do is try different foods and drink cafe con leche and vino!

But alas, need to create the usual "day to day" for myself here...find a job, learn the language, and continue my career as a travel show host....AND enjoy food, coffee, and wine....balance.

So here's a glimpse into my first couple of weeks in Madrid. This consisted of a lot of walking...need to learn my new city!...and while doing this, dropping off my resume to as many bars in the tourist zone as possible (since I'm just starting to learn Spanish and can get away with speaking English at such places). I figured a bartending job would be best...have my days to work on my other projects, can meet cool people, and can still practice my Spanish....

Two weeks in....still no luck....well, I can only do so much in a day......I put the effort in every day, and of course, reward myself with some Spanish cafe/cerveceria action. Tapas? Yes please. Cafe con leche? Si si. Vino? Do you really need to ask? But another challenge I've faced in this city...which one to choose??!

Salud :)

The Ol' Paella Flock

Yeah I know...5 months of not blogging...ludicrous. Don't worry I'll make it up to you. Can we move on now?

ESPANA!! This crazy gringo (half Latina gringo) has decided to get the hell out of LA for a while and move to Madrid. In 3 weeks. I believe they call it "trece semanas". In 3 weeks I will be crossing the ocean making my journey into the new world that will encompass me.

Do I speak Spanish??? Nope. I'm learning....Rosetta don't fail me! And my slang book teaches me how to say "yeah i chain-smoke like a whore in the slammer" (si, fumo uno tras otro como puta encarcelada) which I'm hoping helps me get by....

So here's the deal. I've been wanting to live in Spain for nearly 10 years. It's always been on the brain. I got serious about it a few years ago until that crazy dentist I was dating talked me out of it (it's a good thing he's an ex)....and alas, the desire is back and badder than ever. So??? One of my biggest beliefs about living the good life is NO REGRETS...and quite frankly, I would never talk to myself again if I didn't explore this desire....so here I am. F**k it...I'll be ok.

I took a trip to Spain a couple of months ago, and it was as if the road was effortlessly cleared for me....go to Spain! was everywhere....the people I met and the opportunity that came in such a short amount of time. It was an avalanche. I now have friends there that already feel close, a place to live, and strong will to help me find a job. What the hell kind of job will I do over there when I don't speak Spanish? Bartend at an Irish pub of course. People speak English at Irish Pubs...plus I know how to say "Andate a cantar tus pavadas a la ramera que te parlo!" (Go try your bullshit on the hooker that spawned you), so I should be able to hold my own just fine in a foreign country.

Yes I'm freaking out. But I'm also very excited. I don't know what will happen in Spain. I might hate it. I might never move back to the US. Sure the unknown is scary...but that unknown also gets me so high. That's living. You may not know the reasons for doing something...you just know you need to do it....so....bye bye LA and hello Madrid.

Most likely this is going to be quite an adventure. There are so many directions this can go in...so you should stay tuned. Why no video today??? Because. I'm planning on filming a boat-load in Spain...and my little Sony just isn't cutting it. On top of my "Spain to-do" list is to get a new camera (HD woohoo!) so just hang on...patience is a virtue.

Thanks for sticking with me....you don't need to hold my hand, but it feels good that you're here...because I have no idea what the hell is going to happen once I get to Spain....

Oh and please help me out...11 followers??? I'm a little embarrassed....it's time to get a serious following....so please feel free to tell your homies to follow me and my crazy ways....thanks guys.

~your wanderer