I Love You Xabi, Spanish Comes Naturally.

If you grew up in the Warner household you’d know lateness is an accepted aspect of our lives. A 6:30 dinner plan means a 7:30 arrival, Church at 4:30 means strolling in at 4:45 usually with a few glares and stares and occasionally a “Welcome Warner Family!” from the pastor. We have no different of an outlook when traveling. Leaving Whitefish Bay at 3:30 for a 4:25 flight overseas is acceptable; we’ve never missed a flight. Whoever said that you need to be at the airport 2 hours ahead of time needs to write a letter of apology to the rest of the world for all wasted time waiting around in airports. Plus a little stress and cardio vascular exercise in airports is good for the heart.

….Our flight to Madrid was scheduled for 9:20am Saturday morning. At first, my obsessive compulsive friends, Ellen and Maried, wanted to catch a cab at 7am. It takes 15 minutes to get there. If my math is correct that would get us to BLQ 2 hours and 5 minutes prior to departure . (About an hour and a half earlier than needed.) So I begged, pled, said things I didn’t mean until we finally made a compromise: 7:30. Fine, I could live with that.

The night before our flight, I had 3 (AMERICAN-MADISON) boys staying at my apartment. Because my irresponsible self thinks nothing through, I truly believed we could go out, show them a good time AND be in bed by 1 in order to wake up for our flight the following day. One thing led to another, Cafettino saw that we had a good time, 1 a.m. came and past, and finally at 4am the semi-responsible Paul Abu-Taleb dragged all of us home. Thank you ABUuuu.

After snoozing my alarm clock and ignoring Ellen’s calls for about a full hour, I leapt out of bed at 7:45, threw clothes into my backpack, brushed my teeth and bounded downstairs—leaving the 3 gringos in my room to slumber some more. Getting into the cab at 8:10 cut it close even for me, but I was the most relaxed out of the group. Every 3 seconds Maried was fervently checking the time on her nugget phone and Ellen was making a game plan that involved us sprinting through the airport, skipping all of our fellow passengers in the security line and begging the stewards to reopen the plane for us. Unnecessary wastes of energy. After running through the completely vacant security maze (annoying, but cal burning) we made it safe and sound onto the plastic airplane.

To conclude this obnoxious tangent and get onto my Madrid vacation, I would just like to reiterate the fact that YOU DO NOT NEED TO GET TO AIRPORTS 2 HOURS AHEAD OF TIME. 20 minutes is just fine. Keep life’s pace up, you’ll live longer.

3 highlights of the flight:

1.     Old Italian woman yelling at the flight attendants for knowing only English and Spanish and not Italian. Old women run this country.

2.     Passing out for the entirety of the 2 hour flight.

3.     Waking up only to tell Ellen how “turbulency” the flight was and how I thought I we were going to die.

We didn’t.

Upon arrival in Madrid, Maried gave us a safety speech informing us to always keep our belongings in sight and look out for one another. Puerto Ricans can be very paranoid. Every time we rode the metro Maried would pick out the person who looked most like a gypsy or thief and stare them down for the whole ride. Not rude, uncomfortable or racist at all. For the most part we were successful. I, however, was pick pocketed.  But sometimes I can be smart and hide my expensive things in the secret trap doors of my purse. So my loving gypsy thief only got my pack of stride gum. SUCKA.

Santiago Bernabeu

In Madrid, we did Madridy things. I found it necessary to constantly yell the random things I knew in Spanish like:“La cuenta por favor!” or “Buenos Dias” even when it wasn’t morning and “Tu gato es feo”.  (Thank you Seniorita B. at WFBHS for teaching me, I definitely remember more than I thought I did!) I worked very hard on the Spanish lisp that I may or may not have developed one in my own English speaking.

 We walked around everywhere, getting our bearings of the huge city. Let me rephrase: Maried and Ellen got their bearings; my wonderful sense of direction kept me dazed and confused the entire time.  I let the two of them navigate while I scoured the town for attractive Spaniards and practiced my Español.

We trekked down Paseo de la Castellana, in order to get to Real Madrid’s stadium, Santiago Bernabeu, to pick up our tickets. The walk was beautiful, however I was a little side tracked, concentrating only on my shivering body because of Madrid’s sub arctic temperatures. Apparently Spain is not immune to the cold; tan attractive Spanish men have led me to believe otherwise. Or maybe I should have forgone my Posh Spice Diva outfit and actually worn clothes for January’s temperature. Not sure where I went wrong.

One of the nights we went out for Tapas and Sangria. I’ve never liked Sangria because it’s too sweet…but there is something about drinking it… in Spain… with two of your best friends that makes it extremely enjoyable. Then we retreated to our hostel to pamper and shove our feet into 6 inch heels before going out to Kapital, Madrid’s famous 7-story club.

Our Arrival Time: 2:00 am

Arrival Time of the Cool Kids: 4:00am

I’ve never been the loser that’s the first to a party or dance…but I’ve now been the loser that’s been the first to the club. I’m okay with this. After dancing for a few hours, meeting some painfully awkward Portugese/Brazillian guys (whom Maried loathed) and getting attacked by a sub zero tempurature vaporizer (see video) we decided to call it a night (or morning) and walked home. Highlight of my trip: taking off my heels at the end of this night.

Plaza Mayor

Later, we did more Madridy things. Ate bocadillos, people watched in Plaza Mayor, ate Burger King, saw the Palace, butchered more Español, and of course went to the Real Madrid vs. Mallorca game. The game was a lot different than I expected. Spainish fans are relatively calm and very respectful unlike the chauvinistic a-holes at Italian soccer games. Overall, my Real Madrid experience was enjoyable and I wouldn’t be upset if I married a man on the Real Madrid team, just saying. We celebrated Madrid’s victory by indulging in Paella, Chorizo and of course, more Sangria. (I then received about a million texts from my sconnies at home that the Packers won! SUPER BOWL!!) aka, more celebration with Sangria.

Our last day was spent eating Bob Warner style. We went to Mercado San Miguel (similar to the Public Market in Milwaukee) found a table, got a glass of wine and then sampled as many stations as we could. We had croquetas, crostinis, potatoes with hot sauce, bacalao (cod) and many more Spanish delicacies, which unfortunately included the worst piece of cake I’ve ever eaten in my life.

We managed to fit in Parque del Ritiro, which is one of the more beautiful parks I’ve ever seen. Then realized our flight leaves in about an hour and we should probably make our way to the airport.

After getting off at the wrong metro stop, sprinting through the airport, me (kindly) screaming at an airport lady, and Ellen screaming at fellow passengers, we made it to our plastic plane and immediately passed out for the duration of the flight. Clearly exhausted from all the fun we had in Madrid. (Or, 3 mile long sprint through the airport).

Me and Ellen in front of Real Madrid's Stadium

Hala Madrid!

Warming up!

Paella!

Plaza Mayor

Ellen and I in Sol

The Palace 

Tapas!

Sangria!

Getting murdered by the vaporizer. Apparently Spaniards think this is "fun".

All of us in the park

I loved my Madrid vacation, but what I loved even more was spending time with my two best friends. Can't wait for our next trip!

Things I wanted to accomplish in Spain…but failed:

1.     Find a Spanish-futbol-playing boyfriend

            2.     Marry this Spanish-futbol-playing boyfriend

....Well, I guess I’ll have to go back.

Mal

PS: thanks to gypsy, I am all out of American  Gum…(stride light or dark blue is my favorite.)

Please Send to:

Mallory Warner

c/o Indiana University-BCSP

Via Malcontenti 3

40121 Bologna-Italia

oh, and don’t buy mailing insurance.

Hasta luego Madrid!

Special Guest: Police and KATY PERRY!

I am a real blogger. I have a special guest!!!!......

Hello blog world!

This is Katie Tesensky, one of mal's oldest and best friends. I'm sure you are wondering why I am writing on her blog, I mean I'm not living in Bologna. But I was fortunate enough to visit Mal over my Christmas break. Our friendship dates back 12 years where we first met at first stage. Both of us can still remember everything about the first day we met-- Mal was in purple leggings (a trendy 3rd grader), I was in shorts, both wearing our grey First Stage Theater Acadamy t-shirts (Yes, yes...we were theater nerds. Now do you understand our dramatic stories and gestures?). I guess you could say it was love at first sight haha. I'm not going to bore you with all our old friendship details (because most people can't handle them), but lets just say 2 divs in Italy proved to be a fabulous, divalicious time.

I arrived in bologna on a Friday night around 11 and for those of you who know what I'm talking about, I DID NOT NEED A SEEING EYE DOG (there may have been a slight mistake when booking my flight to Italy, I may have accidentally clicked that I needed special assistance and had a seeing eye dog..WHOOPS!). Mal met me at the gate and made her cab driver wait for us in the parking lot (because she can.) We dropped off my things at her apartment and immediately got dinner, which was of course pizza. Honestly, the best thing I've ever tasted. It was fresh and delicious; I would fly back to Bologna this second to get that pizza. and the best part -- super cheap.

After our lovely meal of pizza in the Piazza due Torri, we hit the bars. First we started off classy with a glass of wine at this little tiny bar with the most beautiful bartender, then we met up with Mal's friends Fabio and Ellen and needless to say, things got rowdy. A few shots, drinks, 3 cannucciatas (basically like fishbowls), and more shots...we were feeling no pain. It was at this point in the night that Fabio started calling me Katy Perry. "Katy Perry you must come to Italy more!!" or "Katy Perry!!! (singing) california girls we're undeniable" were just a few of the phrases Fabio yelled at me that night, he ended up creating a nickname for me the entire trip...I mean I didn't hate it!

At the bar we also got to become pretty good friends with the bartender who we called texas. Apparently he was born in texas and then moved to Italy when he was 4...now that I think about it Mal, he could have been making that entire story up. Anyway, it ended up being a very fun evening/early morning and a great way to start off my trip. The next few days we shopped, dined, and lived like the Italians. It was amazing. I had a blast meeting all Mal's new friends, they were so welcoming and tried their best to speak english with me. One of Mal's friends, Augusto was very good about speaking English with me, but he said "Katy Perry you MUST learn Italian" we'll see about that ;)

I stayed in Bologna for 5 days, 4 nights and was able to get to Venice on the Monday I was there. Although it was a little rainy, it was still amazing. It's incredible to see a city built entirely around water...so fab. After taking the train from Bologna to Venice we saw the sights and of course got lost. We ended up finding this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that was to die. After some wine and pasta we hit the streets again. We may or may not have split a bottle of wine on a bench by the Rialto Bridge..I guess you'll never know.

After seeing some sights we proceeded to get SO lost and really having to go to the bathroom we (Mal) decided it would be a good idea to walk into some swanky hotel and ask to use their bathroom, which did not happen. After the lies in Italian and then English, I pretty sure the front desk guy knew we weren't staying there..it got really awkward after that so Mal and I just left, still having to use the bathroom and still very much lost. I don't know how we did it but we managed to find a bathroom and make the train back to Bologna. THANK GOD. It was a long, yet very fun day.

Overall my time in Italy was incredible, not only was I seeing the country with a fluent speaker (yeah you are pretty much fluent Mal, get over it) but I got to see it with my best friend, I couldn't have asked for a better trip. Mal was a great host and her friends were way too much fun. It was a great way to start off 2011...seeing Italy with your bestie...doesn't get much better than that :)

love ya Malsey xo

-Katy Perry

*So my friends are obsessed with saying Special Guest: ___insert guest's name__. One night that Katie was in Bologna with us, the Cops came and interrupted our gathering. So naturally the phrase "Special Guest: Police" became one of the many go-to phrases in our vernacular. Also: ACBC. (All Cops are Bad Cops) Learn it. Love it.

I turn 20 and a half tomorrow.

Mally

Texan Friend.
We Loved Him.
KT enjoying her first REAL Italian Gelato!
Neptune's Fountain in Bologna!
In VENICE!

I needed to add this picture. Lookin good Enrico.





Rain Boots: A necessity in Venice.
Those glasses don't have lenses. (Katie, Fabio and Me)
Panah (Alessandro) and Fa

A pensive Fa and modelesque Enrico

2 shirts buttoned together. Nice Augusto.

Me and Ellen

Me and Katie and our Texan friend at Caffetino.
Ellen, Me, Katie and Fabio enjoying our first cannucciata of the night.

Call me Mrs. Ron Weasley

**excuse my laziness in Blogging. I made this London trip November 12th-14th. Yes, I finally blogged. Please go back to your daily routine after rejoicing.

For those of you that don’t know, I would rather be “magic folk” than a “muggle”. The Harry Potter series consumed the entirety of my childhood and I truly believe that the wizarding world is out there (as much as I still believe Michael Jackson is still alive). I wait, longingly yet hopefully, every day that my Hogwarts acceptance letter will come FINALLY (via Owl post obviously).

That being said, a few weeks (or months, whatever you wanna call it) ago I took a trip to London to seek out my wizard husband (Ron, duh....Hermione you ain't got nothin' on me girl). Well…more realistically, I went to see the things that inspired JK Rowling to write the series that has prevented me from doing well in school. (She is my Queen.)

This is my first travel post (yippee). Anyway, before I get into the details of my ‘wicked’ weekend I would like to tell you that all my stories will be completely abridged. Meaning: I know you don’t really care about everything I tasted, my feelings at every point during my trip, everything I saw, touched, smelled, or whatever else. Ok, maybe you care but I honestly don’t care enough to write it all. AND I promise I will keep all adjectives to a minimum, unlike many study-abroad-college-aged-bloggers (that I stalk) who think it’s normal and cool to use words like “plethora” “wondrous” “breathtaking” and “picturesque” over and over and over again. Annoying.

So now you know how I really feel. And why I hate blogging…and adjectives. Don’t worry bloggers who are freaking out right now, I wasn’t thinking about anyone in particular. Just kidding…I definitely was.

Ok. London. Took a plastic Ryanair airplane that landed in bumbleville* England about an hour and a half outside of London.

So, you know, after casually (accidentally) leaving my passport in the duty free shop. We found a bus and made our way to the center of London.

I erroneously told my London friend that I was taking a bus from the airport to Victoria Station when really it was Victoria COACH Station. God, I can be such a Muggle sometimes. But thankfully it was freezing and pouring rain during the hour and a half I searched the streets of this foreign city. Oh London, you’re not very good at first impressions. Finally, I saw my friends. Luckily they were easy to spot: both decked out in North Face and holding Starbucks cups. How very Midwest-American of you.

Things I did (sorry I have a list fetish):

1. Went to dinner at a real LIFE English pub! Filled with real LIVE English people who were speaking in real LIVE English accents! When I ordered a butterbeer at this pub they snarled at me; I pouted.

2. Went clubbing near Piccadilly Circus. No Big Deal. Side note: I like clubs in London better than the ones in Bologna because 1) The volume of the music doesn’t destroy your ear drums 2) English 3) I think people actually take showers before going out!

3. Took a red-double decker bus home from the clubs. Obviously I found it completely necessary to scream “THIS IS SO LONDONY!” at every chance I got. How embarrassing.

4. Met up with my friend Mark from Madison. Walked the old streets of London. Drank warm beer with him(no it was not stale keystone light). Did a pub-crawl. My favorite part of the crawl was to see that every pub, at any time of the day is filled with people. But then again I would always be drinking with weather like in London…

5. Paid in Galleons.

6. Went to a Christmas market. I bought one thing. Of course I managed to purchase the most unnecessary (and most overpriced) product at the market: a string of cinnamon sticks. (insert redeeming quality of mine…)

7. Mastered the Patronus Charm. (Mine is a Lizard. Actually it's a Zebra...DiVA)

8. Got destroyed by the pound. Let me tell you: I absolutely hate English money. Number 1: it is very hard to differentiate the bills. Number 2: I’m sorry Queen but you are ugly, it is selfish of you to be on the bills. Obviously, Ron Weasley should be on there. Number 3: The exchange rate is deadly. England, can you please stop having a rockin’ economy so I can pay less than 10 dollars for my Starbucks?

9. Saw the regular Londony sights. I would tell you all about them, but you can read other boring-adjective-filled blogs that will explain all of those sights. Or you can just watch the Mary-Kate and Ashley movie Winning London. Up to you.

10.Saw Chicago on Broadway. In London. Weird that our midwestern selves chose that show. Whatever it was fabulous.

11. “Minded the Gap” on the tube. (if you’ve ever been…you’ll know what I’m talking about.)…see they don’t really speak English in England.

Numbers 5 and 7 are lies.

Anyways, my trip to London was a blast. I had so much fun speaking English again, although in some cases the English accent cannot qualify for real English. American is the only real language…but you already know that.

My regrets: I did not meet Ron Weasley. I did not get to Ollivander’s for my wand. I did not apparate to Hogwarts. And I did not cheat on Ron with Draco Malfoy. But I have the rest of my life to live and I’m sure I will be meeting you again, London!

Thank you to Dana, Emily and Mark (my fellow Badgers) for making my trip a success!

Oh also, I despise the word reckon’. If I hear it one more time I will smack someone in the face.

Always look LEFT when crossing the street in London,

Mals

…kidding, please look right. Cheers.

*I got yelled at for swearing on this blog. The *star* means “use your imagination for what could potentially be here”. You can let your mom wash your mouth out with soap this time.

Mark, Me and Friends (note: DJ Spreckles. Love Madison)
The Friends I met at the Club!
Me and Dana
How Londony? Tell me.
My friends at Platform 9 3/4. How much fun did we have there guys?! .....
Harry Potter!
They think they are so clever....
Emily and Dana
Proof I was in London.