You know when there's not much in your kitchen to make dinner with but you scratch together a meal anyway?

I make blog today.


It's basically about nothing. But if you are already reading this you might as well continue. Facebook won't miss you. I've been quite homesick for some good ol' amurican food lately. My mouth waters when I think about beef fajitas or the grilled chicken salad from Mahylons in Muskogee. And if someone were to say the word "bacon crumbles" to me right now, I would book the next flight home. 


On to my current crisis though. I left my water bottle at school today. This may seem like something on firstworldpains but this is quite dire. I don't know if I can make it until tomorrow without water. What? No, I only drink from this one water bottle. It squeezes perfectly into my mouth and water tastes better when it comes from it. Don't call me a little girl. I am a niña. Y quiero mi botella damnit. 


The good news about today was that I had three packages waiting for me at the post office. Also good news was that I had asked my mom for socks and she sent me 13 pairs. Sock on that, cold spanish winter. I was only able to pick up two of the boxes though because the third one I had to pay a tarifa on and believe it or not, the Spanish postal service only accepts cash. What year are we in Spain? Did the conquistadors bring this parcel on horseback all the way from the Americas? I swear. I pay for 50 cent gum in the States with my credit card and it is not a mortal sin. But Spain is not America. Thank god. 


I do love Spain. I love it alot. I love politely waiting in the post office line to be cut off by three people who only have "preguntitas". Well I only have a little question too. And that is, what is the point of taking numbers again? It's because they were all better dressed than me. My friend has a theory that is inconsequentially true, it is that better dressed people have the upperhand. Yes we already know this, but for example if you are on a narrow Spanish sidewalk coming home from the gym and a woman in her fur coat is walking towards you and there is obviously no room for both of you to fit, who steps aside? You better believe you're sweaty little nike self is the one to scoot.


Watch out when they come in threes too. 





I must note that on the day that I am the shnauzier one I notice that the people step aside for me. So it isn't ethnicity selective. Just quality of clothing. Business suits will always bulldoze you. Fact. I've had a few near encounters with almost being run over that still give me nightmares.


Other fact, older Spanish people love to wear their coats on their shoulders. Me hacen mucha gracia. I don't know why. I always think, aren't you worried it will fall? Why not just wear a blanket? Target has great micro-fleece blankets! 







Off to spin class. Then to study for a spanish exam that's going to kick my culo to cuba. I'm going to try and write more and something a little more riveting next time. Os prometo. Love. Coco.

Ok! I will address this SOPA business

I always know there's something brewing in the States when everyone stops posting about OU football and cold weather to post about the same subject. (I will not confirm that Facebook is my news source). (I swear I read the news, but I've been busy! It's sales season in Spain and I started Spanish classes!) Anyway, the point I want to make is that  you know its big news when Jim Risch updates his facebook status to write about it. So I thought, ooook USA what the fuck is this soup thing about? Sopa in espanol means soup. Since I live in Spanglish, I can't read that word and not think soup. So I am just going to refer to this as "the soup thing."  So without furtherer do, I give my thoughts.

Facebook My current news source, was providing extremely limited information on what the soup thing actually IS.. (You've told me a million times that there IS soup, but please tell me what kind of soup it is!) So I had to change outlets..... to Wikipedia, my internet best friend. You know when you are embarrassed to ask someone a question because they could shout out "Oh my god guys guess what Camille just asked me!!" Wikipedia would never betray my trust. He's like your humble intelligent friend. I search sea urchins, I search tabbouleh, I search meercat. So right, I like Wikipedia. I am actually becoming stupider in person because I can't stop a conversation to look something up. (I am one of the few people without an iphone). But no, I'm not resentful that I have to make flashcards at home with random info before going to the bar and hope that is the trivia to be touched upon. Iphones are so overrated.

Anyway.................................

You can only imagine my stupefaction when my best friend tells me that the a Republican senator from Texas is trying to kill him. Well I may have been persuaded over at first by the cute name, but hell to the no, will any soup kill my internet friend. Sopa de mierda is what it sounds like to me.

That's kind of all I have to say on this.

You may think that I have just hoola-hooped around this issue and not actually said anything at all except that I found out that it exists. And then you may be right. But I like to feel that I am addressing political issues sometimes. I don't want anyone to get the idea that I live over here and just drink vino and explain the food pyramid in English. That would be quite the misconception, my friends. Soup thing - done. Give me another topic.

Fortune cookies don't get me anymore

I wore heels today. And while sitting at my computer drooling over Anthropologie shoes reading thought provoking articles about healthcare and Republicans and caucuses (SUCH A FUNNY WORD!!), I realized my foot had fallen asleep. So what did I do? I stood up to revive the damn thing. And then...... I fell down. Well well well, I took those cussing heels off and put them where they belong! In the back of my closet. With some hat I thought I could pull off but couldn't. (People with small hair can't wear hats). (If you have small hair or friends with small hair, please don't fall victim to the temptation of a cute fedora).

 I sometimes wonder what my life is going to be like when I have a real job. Will straightening my hair and then straightening the shirt I'm wearing still be allowed as ironing? Ironically, while I have no "time" to iron, I do have time to chase the cat around the house and lecture it about how rude it is to steal someone's barbque chicken leg off their plate. (Although Spanish cats have no idea that barbeque sauce is a rare comodity here,  this cat is super bitch.) Point being, my life probably isn't too strenuous right now. I am busy, but there's always time to chastize cats and accidentally lose a cork and then finish the bottle. And thennnn blog!

(If you didn't notice already, I also could have combined "ironing" and the following word "ironically" to be more time efficient but I decided to take the time to write both out. Realistically no one would understand me if I were to write in true Camillism. Hardly anyone speaks it these days.)

I am accepting any ideas that you may have about what I should do next year. I opened a fortune cookie the other day and it told me I was going to blossom in my social life. Maybe a girl in China accidentally got the cookie I was supposed to get. Something about finally getting to work rather than socializing. I swear fortune cookies just don't get me anymore. (Now that my dad doesn't read them aloud to me. "You're good friend Hailey will go to Big Splash with you tomorrow and you will thank your parents by being calm on the ride to and from Tulsa.")

Other news.... hm..... I recently had a cooking failure. Turns out ground beef is a crucial ingredient to your typical stuffed eggplant recipe. Since I didn't have this and had a feeling it was pretty important, I started getting wild with the creativity. I threw in all kinds of things, ginger, garlic, tomato sauce, chorizo. I was for sure that as unhealthy as I had made these babies they had to turn out good. Wrong. They were horrendous and I'm pretty sure the eggplant was offended I stuffed it with such garbage. So I had milk and cookies and contempled the ratio of calories burned at spin class to eating lots of mediocre weird food. I think I lose.

"When do you win? When you spin!" (And not gorge yourself on trashfood). That's my mantra for this year.

And that is that. I think I have nothing more to say right now. 

This morning I found an egg with feathers on it.

I couldn't do it. I just couldn't crack it. Do you realize how fragile of an American consumer I am? If I were to know that my egg scrambler is actually created with embryos of baby chicks I may crack. Oh god. I'm thinking about it now. Why did I have to see those feathers? Can you sue for this in America? I think so. Im pretty sure you can sue for anything now. Your honor, "fluffy eggs" has a completely different conotation for me now. I am ruined.

Do you remember on The Truman Show when Jim Carey's boat hits the wall of the sky and he realizes his world is nothing like it seemed? Ok, good. Now imagine how Camille felt when she found out what pigskins were. I thought that was just a cute name. No one told me!!

However as I noted in a previous post (which I know everyone of you read) I am now a bad ass sea food eater. Living in Spain has been enlightening for a little foodie like myself. And by that I mean, I have started to be click in to the truman show world that American eaters live in. Don't worry I am not referencing any of those radical documentaries about Bigmacs and what not. (I haven't even see them!) I explain in short lines below because I lazy.

American: Pork

Spainard: Cerdo (Pig)

American: Beef

Spainard: Vaca (Cow)

This is especially humorous to me when a waiter wants to practice their English  and I am asked "You want cow or pig?"

It is definately not uncommon to see this here: (He looks to happy for what's about to happen to him...)

*Manitos literally translates to "little hands". How would you like your little pig hands cooked?

But I just don't understand. Why do we like to live in oblivion? Why is de-boning fish so bad? Although it was weird to aclimate myself, I think its much healthier to be cognizant like the Spainards. They know what they are eating. They know what pig skins are. They know what eggs are. They don't know what twinkies are. But neither do we.

How much do we love NPR? So much right? Well here is a cool article they recently aired about food trends in 2012 and not only are we going back more organic of course, but we will use every part of the animals we eat! (Don't doubt NPR).  

I've been invited to several "matazas" (pig killings). Apparently it's like a celebration for the whole pueblo and afterwards there's a big feast. (Cover your vegetarian friends' ears). I have politely declined the invitations claining I don't know if I have the stomach for it (which is totally true). Now here's the clencher. I could go. But the result will either be  a) I am exposed to too much real life (and macabre) that I dive into a vegan cult or b) I eat chorizo and have a great story.

Side note:

After copying and pasting this picture, I switched my music to a rap mix without thinking about it. (Bitches n' Rims). Then I realized, I never really see black people here. I miss  my diverse America. We are so damn colorful. And they dominate the rap world. White people just look stupid rapping. Stupid eminen.

Yum m&ms..... no, swimsuit, bridesmaid dresses, gym.... no m&ms.....

Those are my thoughts for Tuesday. De nada.

I use the word "anyway" alot. Its the nice hypotenuse that connects my thoughts.

Hello Furrends.

I am in a particularily ridiculously mood today so inevitably it is blog-writing day. The timing is exquisite!

I doubt my blog will come alive. And that folks is the saddest news of 2011.


Anyway I write blog today but I have no particular topic. You never have a topic. Quiet, you naysayers!

Has anyone noticed that I discovered the strikethrough button??? I love it! No, really I LOVE it! Its like the paranthesis' hipster cousin that we didn't know existed. It does so much. Should I type this thought? Yes! Write it and strikethrough! Any comment that might push the line can still be said and the saving glory of the strikethrough will right all wrongs. Its the morning after pill for words.

Now where do we go...... I am skeptical that my thoughts on cool punctuation tricks will make for a good blog entry. Ah, I know. I will tell you about my New Years Resolutions.

Actually, fuck new years resolutions. I'm tired of making false promises to myself. I will always love cooking and food and so I am just going to accept my round little Camilly-roo self. (Dear god, please do not like strapless belly shirts come back in style. I'm your favorite remember!) Anyway, instead of NYR's, I prefer to just keep adding outlandish things to my Bucket List.*

 Here are some of the things:

1. Have a bilingual dog. I AM GETTING A DOG. Remember? And if I have to learn spanish, then damn it, my dog will too. I can't wait for my dog to make sassy comments to Jess in another language.
2. Go hangliding. Wind, sunshine, flying. Yes por favor.
3. Have more than 10 twitter followers. http://twitter.com/#!/coco_therese. No, this isn't publicity pump!
4. Jump on a moving train. I'm still jealous of Ginger for doing this before me. (PS for you Europeans, trains in america don't carry people. They carry coal and animals and I don't know what else because I'm not very educated on the transportation of goods biznass). Imagine something more like this:

5. Successfully say the word "vegetarian" in Spanish without fumbling. It is vegetariano. Currently I say things in Spanish like "She is a person who doesn't eat meat." Or "Can we go to that restaraunt that has food without meat?" People are starting to catch on...
6. Swim from Terapin Creek to Sixshooter. This doesn't seem that ludicrous. I bet I could do it in June. Are you with me Patrick?
7. Make a music video. Actually just make more videos. "Babies inspired by babies" didn't get the credit it deserved. Integrated marketing again? No, pshh never.

That's all I can think of right now. And my spin class is about to start. Bad ass legs and a little round belly! Mierda.


*I do have one. Written on a peice of scratch paper I think. Somewhere in Elizabeth and Jason's house. We wrote it when we were in one of those moods like "Oh my god time is flying and we've done nothing cool with our lives!!! Lets write things down!!" (yea....smartisimas). I need to rescue it and see if anything can be crossed off. Yoga at the top of an uninhabitated island. Check. However I will never be as cool as this girl. Yep, that's Olivia Marie. If you didn't open that link, don't be lazy. Do it now. I would say I want to be able to do the splitz, but that will never happen. My mom and Olivia will always hold the trump cards to Elizabeth and I.

Let me tell you about how the Spanish spend Christmas

Eating.



I was invited to eat Christmas Day dinner with a family that I'm friends with. I arrived at 12:40. (I was told to come between 12 and 12:30 and I was kind of stressed about being late). I should know by now that my being late is nothing compared to the way Spainards do late. They make me look good. I admit this is one of the reasons I choose to live here. Anyway, at 1:00 we began the later to be known as "Longest Christmas Dinner of My Life" or we could call it "The Day Camille's stomach grew three times it's size".

The dinner ended at 7:30 p.m. I'm drunk, mentally exhausted from so much spanish and am suffering from food paralysis minus finger dexterity.

I've been to long Spanish lunches before. Usually 2 -3 hours is normal. Luckily I got accustomed to this so I wasn't suprised at the 4-5 lunch we had when my parents were here. They flipped. Anyway this lunch blew the calcetines off those other ones. If you have ever been embarrassed about the amount of things on your daily food journals entries, read on. I will make you feel better.

Now I make you list of food.

1. Somekind of pinwheels made of roquefort cheese and ham. (3-4).
2. Pineapple juice and champagne. (3-4 glasses).
3. Mystery appetizer thing I kept being offered (3).
4. Cheese and ham on cracker (2).
5. Shrimp with garlic sauce.
6. Bread for the oily garlic sauce after the shrimp left.
7. Those big bad daddy shrimp. In spanish they are langostinos. I don't know how we say it in English. I am from Oklahoma. (3).
8. Crab legs. (2).
9. A large shell that contained a mixture of vegetables and scallops. (1).
10. Some ugly colored crab mixture thing that I can never remember the name of. This stuff I know I don't like and I kept trying to turn it down but I was besieged with a thousand "Pruebalo Camille! Pruebalo!" Fine. Ill try it again.
11. Salad.
12. Lamb and potatoes.
13. More bread.
14. Turron (customary spanish sweet during xmas season).
15. Ice cream with hot fudge and crunchy graham cracker sticks.
16. One slice of my cranberry pumpkin bread that really didn't fit in.
17. A bite of some mystery cream cake.
18. Polvorones. (1). A crumbly little candy thing they eat at xmas.
19. Champagne (2).
20. Coffee. (1).
21. Licor Cafe shot. (1).

I declined the after dinner drink.

Note: I don't list the wine because there was no way to count. I would turn my head and the uncle next to me was filling up my wine glass. I would go to the bathroom and my glass would be full again when I got back. I just decided to drink and be merry. Christmas, that is.

Anywayyyyyy...... I can't move. I am too full. My sweats gave me a warm welcoming hug when I put them on. P.S. Remember the girl from Oklahoma last year who was too scared to eat shellfish? I'm totally all over that sea food business now. It's just so damn good when its fresh! Although its pretty obvious I'm a novice at how to eat it. I can't really concentrate on two difficult things at once so I got pretty fixated with breaking shells and finding meat that I totally lost  track of the rapid spanish conversation around me. However I did catch Maria, the 8 year old near me, yell to her mom across the table, "Mommy! Ayuda Camille!" Apparently Maria saw I was failing.

Feliz Navidad desde Espana! BESOS!!!!!!!!!


Here are some pictures of things from google:


This one is especially hard for me to look like I know what I'm doing:



And funny note, when someone made me take another monster crab leg, Maria said "Jesus! Vas a comer otra??" She really knows how to make me feel good about this sea food biznass.

My Friday Morning

So after almost three weeks of no kitchen sink*, the technico finally comes to repair it. He is Cuban and has a speech impediment. I am sure what he is speaking can not be spanish. I do a lot of gaping and nodding. I sure hope what he's saying is "Fix this up in a jiffy ma'am!" But I know it's much more ominous than that. The part I did catch was that he is stopping at 1 and will come back later. He arrived at 12:30. Welcome to Spain.


*This is the worst. There is nothing worse than doing dishes in the bathtub. At least not that I've experienced in my life. Although maybe I should live in the slums of Mumbai so I can learn not to freak out when peices of scrambled egg are near my washcloth.

In other news, life is good. I can't complain. Except I have to go yell at our cat now. She is attacking my gym bag. What is it with cats being bitches?? I mean I like them but they can be such brats.When I get a dog (this is happening) I'm also going to get a cat. The dog will be the best behaved dog ever and the cat will be a cat. And then I will train the dog to look up at me and shake its head disapprovingly when the cat is doing a dumb cat thing. And then we will laugh.

I should probably get out more. Otherwise it is very clear how my future will play out. Pets, Muffins, Quilts, Homemade potpourri. Sooo busy!

Ok I need to run. I decided to switch the buttons on my blazer and the crafts store closes at 2:00!