When my mom realized that my new job would require virtually no creative writing, she exclaimed, "Wow, you're really taking another step away from journalism and writing."
A little defensively, I noted that I would still be able to pursue freelance opportunities. Just last week I submitted another travel story to a major newspaper and I plan on making those submissions a more regular part of my work life.
But it's true: My day job no longer includes creative writing, journalism or even blogging, which is what I clung to while at GUBA. There, the daily blog entries not only were the most entertaining part of my day; they allowed me to continue to call myself a professional writer.
I will always consider myself a writer, but it will be more of a struggle as I've never been the most disciplined freelancer. But even if I come up with one article idea or travel essay a year, I'll continue to be part of media in this new position. Even as I take that next step away from traditional journalism I'm stepping further into the world of social media, which fascinates and excites me.
I love what Digg is doing to democratize media, taking power away from the one or two (often insane and/or unethical) editors who run magazines, newspapers and other media outlets. Digg puts the power in the hands of the users. They control whether a story and the conversation it provokes attains front-page status.
Also, there's a really nice kitchen full o' drinks and snacky snacks. Booya.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Ay, |qué fatal! Mis últimas horas en Madrid han llegado...
The last day! I woke up later than I wanted to, but it´s been jam-packed full of fun. Walking through Retiro and enjoying the perfect daytime weather, finding more photo inspiration, hitting the Corte Inglés one last time for some turrones to bring home and some albóndigas to inhale, another impressive museum (the Thyssen), the nicest sunset I´ve experienced since I´ve been here, one last batch of churros (just enough this time), a string quartet that sounded like a CD and hippies jamming by the lake. To name a few. I also learned yet another lesson about cómo se hace en Madrid, this time en cuanto a los números de los edificios. Fair enough.
Today´s been great but last night was kinda ... horrific. My intercambio had an insane accent. Born and raised in Madrid but I seriously couldn´t understand 50% of what he said. He was a low-talker, a mumbler and had the aforementioned ridiculous accent that prevented him from pronouncing half of the sounds in the Spanish language. Joderrrrrr. But still, I got to hit up some of the Santa Ana Plaza tapas bars and a few of the spots in Chueca I had not visited. So, worth it, overall. Yes? Yes.
Tomorrow morning my flight leaves at 11 a.m. I get back to SF at 9:30 p.m. local time. There is a 9-hour time difference. That is one long day of travelling.
Como se dice en España, OOF.
The last day! I woke up later than I wanted to, but it´s been jam-packed full of fun. Walking through Retiro and enjoying the perfect daytime weather, finding more photo inspiration, hitting the Corte Inglés one last time for some turrones to bring home and some albóndigas to inhale, another impressive museum (the Thyssen), the nicest sunset I´ve experienced since I´ve been here, one last batch of churros (just enough this time), a string quartet that sounded like a CD and hippies jamming by the lake. To name a few. I also learned yet another lesson about cómo se hace en Madrid, this time en cuanto a los números de los edificios. Fair enough.
Today´s been great but last night was kinda ... horrific. My intercambio had an insane accent. Born and raised in Madrid but I seriously couldn´t understand 50% of what he said. He was a low-talker, a mumbler and had the aforementioned ridiculous accent that prevented him from pronouncing half of the sounds in the Spanish language. Joderrrrrr. But still, I got to hit up some of the Santa Ana Plaza tapas bars and a few of the spots in Chueca I had not visited. So, worth it, overall. Yes? Yes.
Tomorrow morning my flight leaves at 11 a.m. I get back to SF at 9:30 p.m. local time. There is a 9-hour time difference. That is one long day of travelling.
Como se dice en España, OOF.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Today´s intercambio partner. She was lovely. We had a typical 2-hour lunch at a Caribbean/Spanish place, where I had my first cocido completo. It´s a soup full of chicken, sausage, pork etc. They serve you the broth with noodles first and then everything that was in the broth as the second plate. I had pears cooked in wine and a café con leche for dessert. As a certain Food Network personality would say, ay, qué rico!
As my Spanish was much stronger than her English, we spoke a lot of Spanish at first, but I think it all evened out. I helped clarify the age thing for her -- in Spanish you say "tengo 27 años" and someone learning English would translate that word for word, sounding really awkward. She helped me with some Spain-specific slang. She also freaked me out a little by appearing eerily similar to me cousin Suzanne at times.
Bueno, tío, tengo que irme. Hasta la próxima vez.
As my Spanish was much stronger than her English, we spoke a lot of Spanish at first, but I think it all evened out. I helped clarify the age thing for her -- in Spanish you say "tengo 27 años" and someone learning English would translate that word for word, sounding really awkward. She helped me with some Spain-specific slang. She also freaked me out a little by appearing eerily similar to me cousin Suzanne at times.
Bueno, tío, tengo que irme. Hasta la próxima vez.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Thoughts re: the language school - Super nearby is a Pans & Company, which I don´t enjoy as a lunch option but which has a side area that sells café y panes dulces in the morning. Lovely.
The school, inHispania, is located at the bottom of the street where all the hookers congregate. They´re more toward the top, so I don´t encounter them while going to or leaving the school, but it´s nice to know they´re there. Aw.
Language classes are always dominated by girls. I´m the only guy in mine (there are six of us total) and I was always one of few guys in my college classes.
My classmates are from Turkey-Turkia, France-Francia, Italy-Italia and Germany-Alemania. It´s fascinating to hear their different Spanish accents. They all sound so much like where they´re from when they speak Spanish - except the Turkish chick. I don´t hear enough Turkish in my daily life to pick out that accent.
I seem to have won them over today. The teacher was trying to tell the Turkish girl how to say ¨choke¨ and mentioned the famous W-choking-on-a-pretzel incident. She looked at us oddly as she tried to pronounce George W. Bush with her pretty thick Spanish accent. I told her she didn´t need to bother, she could just call him dickhead (or asshole, whatever - le dije, "le puedes llamar el hijo de puta, el nombre no es necesario). They sure loved that. I´m just doing my part to repair our battered reputation overseas.
The school, inHispania, is located at the bottom of the street where all the hookers congregate. They´re more toward the top, so I don´t encounter them while going to or leaving the school, but it´s nice to know they´re there. Aw.
Language classes are always dominated by girls. I´m the only guy in mine (there are six of us total) and I was always one of few guys in my college classes.
My classmates are from Turkey-Turkia, France-Francia, Italy-Italia and Germany-Alemania. It´s fascinating to hear their different Spanish accents. They all sound so much like where they´re from when they speak Spanish - except the Turkish chick. I don´t hear enough Turkish in my daily life to pick out that accent.
I seem to have won them over today. The teacher was trying to tell the Turkish girl how to say ¨choke¨ and mentioned the famous W-choking-on-a-pretzel incident. She looked at us oddly as she tried to pronounce George W. Bush with her pretty thick Spanish accent. I told her she didn´t need to bother, she could just call him dickhead (or asshole, whatever - le dije, "le puedes llamar el hijo de puta, el nombre no es necesario). They sure loved that. I´m just doing my part to repair our battered reputation overseas.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Ugh. I don´t do laundromats. So having to use one here is insane and horrifying. It was my choice - I wanted to limit my stuff to carry-on, but ay! At least there´s a computer here.
In other news, today was my first day of lessons at inHispania language school. I forgot how scary it is to be called on to complete a grammar exercise. Madre mía. I´m not sure how much help one week of classes will be but at least it forces me to use my Spanish a little more than I have been (not that I haven´t been hablando español, pero tú sabes).
In other news, today was my first day of lessons at inHispania language school. I forgot how scary it is to be called on to complete a grammar exercise. Madre mía. I´m not sure how much help one week of classes will be but at least it forces me to use my Spanish a little more than I have been (not that I haven´t been hablando español, pero tú sabes).
Saturday, November 24, 2007
The point of my trip is to kick it in Madrid for two full weeks, to really soak in this one city. That said, I thought it would be stupid to totally ignore the nearby attractions, so I wanted to choose one place to visit for a day. There are several options within a two hour train or bus ride: Segovia, Ávila, El Escorial and Toledo. I kept going back and forth but finally settled on Toledo, in large part because I wanted to experience Europe´s high-speed trains and this is the only really day trip-friendly place you can get to on one of those trains.
After a 25-minute trip (55 miles) in a super comfy tourist-class coach, I arrived at the pretty train station, but faced an annoying 30-minute mostly uphill climb to get to the old city walls and up to the main plaza. I could have taken a bus but I chose to walk it. From Plaza Zocódover, I headed to the gorgeous Cathedral, where I surprisingly was able to take a ton of photos of beautiful art by El Greco. From there I wandered around the painful stone streets until I found one of the city´s synagogues, which is now the National Museum of Sephardic Jews. It was super interesting but by the end of the walkthrough my feet were in soooo much pain. Damn stone streets. They´re beautiful but a serious pain.
I hit some tapas bars and bought some of the city´s famous mazapán before walking back down toward the train station - well, not toward it at first. I got seriously lost, but luckily had given myself plenty of time to get there.
Today´s been cool but I had another random runin, this time with about 50 police officers getting ready to deal with a HUGE group of people marching through the city to protest ETA. More on that here.
After a 25-minute trip (55 miles) in a super comfy tourist-class coach, I arrived at the pretty train station, but faced an annoying 30-minute mostly uphill climb to get to the old city walls and up to the main plaza. I could have taken a bus but I chose to walk it. From Plaza Zocódover, I headed to the gorgeous Cathedral, where I surprisingly was able to take a ton of photos of beautiful art by El Greco. From there I wandered around the painful stone streets until I found one of the city´s synagogues, which is now the National Museum of Sephardic Jews. It was super interesting but by the end of the walkthrough my feet were in soooo much pain. Damn stone streets. They´re beautiful but a serious pain.
I hit some tapas bars and bought some of the city´s famous mazapán before walking back down toward the train station - well, not toward it at first. I got seriously lost, but luckily had given myself plenty of time to get there.
Today´s been cool but I had another random runin, this time with about 50 police officers getting ready to deal with a HUGE group of people marching through the city to protest ETA. More on that here.
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