All I Want for Christmas Is You

This was a week of great visits: BB and NYHH and Neighborsman. I just got back from a weekend in London and, while I've acclimated to life without him, I miss not having him at the odd hours of the day. For example, when I got back from the airport, I wished I could have had him with me. There's a certain comfort in knowing that someone will either be waiting for you when you get home or will be home soon and be glad to see you. I miss the promise of seeing him the most and one of my favorite parts of the weekend was walking through Borough Market with him as if it were any normal weekend.

To recap, NYHH and BB visited Barcelona Tuesday to Friday and we had a grand ole time. They were supposed to arrive Monday night but missed their flight. Tuesday morning, BB was so tired from spending the night in the airport that she walked into the front doors of my building that are unfortunately entirely made of glass. We thought it was so hilarious we couldn't stop laughing or help ourselves from taking a picture of where her forehead left an impression on the glass. We then had lunch at Cheese Me and it was warm enough to eat on the terrace. In Spain, terrace doesn't mean balcony or anything, it usually just means you can eat outside for an extra 10 euros. Then I went to school for a group meeting.

I know there has been much speculation about how little work I've been doing whilst in Spain but this last week (and next week too, unfortunately), I've done more work than the entire first 2 months combined. I had a paper due Monday, a Powerpoint and paper due Friday, and two Powerpoints and a case due tomorrow. Then I have to write 3 papers and a case plus give a presentation in Spanish in the next 3 weeks. But I only have a Spanish final and I took two days off to cavort with BB and NYHH so I guess it all balances out.

So Tuesday night we went to Inopia, a tapas bar owned by Ferran Adria's brother. It was really good and not expensive. BB hearted our waiter, who was cute, and thus started the beginning of my lying streak. Whatever I told them about Barcelona was immediately contradicted. For example, no one speaks English in Barcelona, the men aren't attractive, and I don't really care for the food. Apparently, all the English-speaking, good-looking Spanish men came out of the woodwork because they heard that BB and NYHH were in town. It was ridiculous how big of a liar I looked like. I might as well have said there are WMD in Iraq. But, in my defense, I still think the hot guys were probably foreign, people indulged me and spoke Spanish, and wouldn't you get tired of patatas bravas and croquettas every day? Afterwards, we went to L'Ovella Negra and girl talked over a pitcher of sangria.

Wednesday was wonderful. We did a wine tour at Felix, complete with a scrumptious, artisanal, locally-grown, lunch with wine in the hand carved cellar with one of the owners. It was slow food at its best. We weren't crazy about a couple on the tour but ended up being BFF with them by the end of the night. After lunch we desgorged, bottled, and labeled our own bottle of cava. 95% of the cava market in Spain is owned by Freixenet and second is Cordoniu, owned by LVMH, and there is no way we could have had this experience in such a commercialized vineyard. If you ever go to Barcelona, you must do this tour. Then after the tour and a small siesta, we met up with the aforementioned couple and our tour guide for drinks. Or rather, endless bottles of wines. The couple from Atlanta was making a documentary about AIDS, sex trafficking, and something in Mali, Vietnam, and Eastern Europe and the tour guide hit on BB the entire night. Then some crazy obnoxious girl from the Bronx talked to us and took pictures. The evening culminated in drunkenly singing Come on Eileen in a bar and Ordinary World on the cab ride home. The cab driver raced to get us home we were that good.

Thursday I somehow made it to classes and meetings. Then I made my first from scratch Thanksgiving dinner courtesy of BB and NYHH who made her first batch of mashed potatoes. I also almost gave everyone salmonella because I undercooked the chicken but we put that back in the oven and started on the sides. We had cheese and bread, green beans with toasted cashews, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. Also after swearing to never drink again, we had wine with dinner. It was the first Thanksgiving dinner for two of them and it was certainly my first Thanksgiving dinner set to techno music. Seriously people, I'm not joking. It was my first Thanksgiving abroad and it was great to spend it with new and old friends, to laugh so much, and to not stuff ourselves completely.

We didn't stuff ourselves because we would have exploded with all the food we ate in London. I kept messing up my rhyming Cockney slang and called an Eartha a Murtha. Neighborsman took us out for Indian and dancing at Fabric Friday night and NYHH entertained us after hours. We found a hip hop room thank god because I would not have paid 13 quid to listen to horrible techno and drum and bass. Saturday afternoon was spent at Borough Market shopping for food where Bridget Jones is supposed to live near. We went to Neal's Yard where NYHH fell in love with our cheese man with whom she planned to have cheese babies. I only plan to make mac and cheese with the stinky cheeses I bought from him. He was supernice and spent a lot of time talking to us about and letting us sample cheese. Being English, he was superhonored and supermodest when BB asked to take his picture. We also queued for yummy coffee with cinnamony brown sugar and the guy chastised me for asking about the possibility of skim milk. They only have whole milk and one size of coffee. We sat in a pub and talked for a bit and then I got my eyebrows threaded while they did cultural things. We went out for Indian again at Brick Lane at restaurant where Neighborsman is a regular and walked home because we ate so much it felt like we had bricks in our stomach.

This morning we had a proper English breakfast at Joe's Kitchen, which was cute and very good. I rather reluctantly and sadly left for Barcelona and was so exhausted that I slept on both the bus and plane. I miss them and you (you anonymous blog readers) and can't wait until we all welcome the new year together in New York with our homemade bottles of cava. And that, Santa, is what I want for Christmas this year.