End of the year party that never ended

I wanted to blog on Friday but was held captive in a veritable hostage situation.

Here's what went down: The Mister and I were invited to an end-of-the-year celebration lunch at a fellow teacher's house.  There was to be paella and a nice dose of fresh air, since the guy's house is in the countryside a little outside of Málaga.  Sounds like a nice thing to do on a Friday afternoon, doesn't it? Doesn't it?

Here are some pictures of the party, all excellent quality courtesy of the iPhone (*ahem*).

Then the night started to go dark, in more ways than one.

When it's 10 pm. and you have to be up at the crack of dawn and the party is showing no signs of ending and people are lighting alcoholic drinks on fire and you are dependent on a ride that is showing no inkling to leave (or to stop drinking)...well then, ladies and gentlemen, the fun meter starts to crater downwards pretty fast.

When the 55-year-old math teacher abuela starts getting friendly with a pole, to a Justin Timberlake soundtrack, the party has officially jumped the shark.

But still, we couldn't leave. An hour outside of Málaga and no way home.

We finally got home at midnight, after someone luckily remembered that they had children at home. Only in Spain, I think.  When we got home, we had to scramble to do all sorts of last minute things before I went to Madrid the next morning to attend an event for the camp we're teaching at next month.  Bed at 1:30, alarm went off at 6.

I was not happy.

At least the paella was good.

Packing removes all the personality from a space - or does it?

  

Before

Packing things in preparation for a long-term move is a strange thing. While theoretically I know that my car, my apartment, my desk at work are all identical twins of a thousand other copies, sentimentally they feel unique and MINE.

You know that old musing "If only these walls could talk..."?  I've been wondering lately what mine would say.  Even if the furniture was cleared out (it is) and the pictures and curtains unhung from the walls (they are), I wonder how much of a person's intangibles remain.

I'm not getting all new-agey on you here, it isn't that I think that something actually happens, but sometimes you walk into a house and you just know that the people there are unhappy or depressed or lonely or joyful or happy.

You just know it.

I think my apartment walls would say "Sarah you really need to work on your laundry skills, because we notice that you never seem to take that last load of laundry out of the washer and you are always having to re-run the cycle because it gets mildewy.  Seriously, all the time.  Set a text message reminder or something, okay?"

I think my car walls would say "Stop being a cheapskate and get me in a GARAGE, for heaven's sake. STAT!"

And my cube walls: "Let's drink coffee."

What would yours say?

After

Oh come on, it was on a double-word score.

"Caption that picture" contest?  Anyone? My submission: "Sometimes you have to work with what you're given."

Also, my blog and I got a grown-up URL today! Although the old link of course still works, you can now find us at loveandpaella.com

Send your friends, we aren't bashful about visitors.

In Which I Impress You With My Suave Transitions

Excuse the out-of-focusness please.  My camera La Rebel was on an Alaskan cruise, the diva.  The iPhone had to pinch hit.

My friend Leanne is a total Francophile.  She speaks fluent French, goes to France all the time - she even married a French man, which, let's be honest, is a pretty big statement.

Anyway, she went to Paris recently and I had been pleading with her to bring me back a croissant.  She brought me back the above.  A ring.  So I can wear it on my  finger. Sadly, it isn't edible.  I've tried.

Anyway, in a roundabout way this is leading me up to Spanish food.  I can't really think of a good transition here so I am just going to go for it. (Gosh I am so SMOOTH, baby!)

Spanish food I can't wait to eat:

• Paella (duh).  Name of this blog.  Pictured above right on header. Pronounced pie- AY-yuh.  Is pure deliciousness.

• Gazpacho. Chilled vegetable soup with some sort of magical creaminess.  Faint.
• Sangria (it's the Mediterranean, I can include wine as a food group if I want to)

Spanish food of the "whaaat?" variety that I am determined to try:

• Pulpo:  Octopus.
• Any of the jazillion varieties of fish.  Not a fish lover, I'll admit.  I saw the Little Mermaid, I know they're really all jolly, reggae-singing cuties who it's a crime to eat. 

Don't worry, I will report back.  And there will be (non-fuzzy) pictures.

15 days until launch

Excuse the fluorescent lighting

Note: I just love it when someone brings in a bag of fresh grapefruits and leaves them in the breakroom to take for free.

Off to the California coast this weekend for the holiday weekend - happy 4th of July to you all!

It is my favorite holiday because it involves summer, cookouts, fried chicken, pool parties, fireworks, days at the lake, posicles and flag-shaped cakes with strawberries and blueberries on top.

Really, what's not to love?

Prepare yourself

This blog has a limited life span in its current form. 

In a few weeks it has a makover coming, and then it appears to be turning back into a travel blog.

Okay?

iPhone + Me = Togetha Foreva

What's that you say?

The shadowy-polaroid-taken-on-my-fancy-phone look is like, sooooo three months ago?

Sorry, ya'll, I'm late to the party and I STILL THINK IT'S AWESOME!