Chelsea Recently is recently no longer homeless!!

Aaaaaaaaaand now that I'm no longer homeless I can finally take a second to breathe, reflect on my first 4 days in Spain, and realize that holy crap, it's only been four days, and it feels like an eternity because so much has happened, haha. Ooooooooh geez.

Let's see. Day 1: I wrote a little bit about my journey on the airplanes and such but honestly couldn't write too much because I kept crying like a little b-i-t-c-h. I felt like an idiot! Okay so after my incredibly uncomfortable flight next to Little Miss High Maintenance on the plane (an undergrad student from South Carolina studying in Sevilla [which she kept calling Seville...I don't know if she'll make it] who was yapping away on her phone about money problems while wearing a massive Coach hat with a matching Coach tote that could have housed a small African village...como se dice hypocrit in Spanish?? Also, she refused to turn off her phone when the sign came on. I was convinced she was going to be the certain demise of the entire air bus.) Anyways, she asked me for my name so she could add me on Facebook but I accidentally *cough* jetted away with my carry-ons and got the hell out of dodge.

Then it began.

The crying.

The incessant crying.

I couldn't find my bags because there were so many people. So instead I went to change my currency to euros that Jeri had given me...and then I thought about how nice it was of Jeri to give me so much money for "cushion" and I started crying again. So I tried to get myself together enough to go ask for euros. Then I cried again because I realized that I don't know enough Spanish to ask for change. Then I realized that was a lie and got over it. At this point I had euros, $8, and really red eyes. I hoped that nobody could tell at the airport because I was wearing glasses but in hindsight that was a little overzealous. Everyone at the airport was Spanish, pretty much, or meeting people at the airport so everyone was ecstatic to go through the gate. I, on the otherhand, wanted to die...or rewind and go home. Both actually.

I had made plans before this with my new roommate Katie to meet at the Starbucks at Barajas. Online it said there was a Starbucks. So I walk up and down the airport....no Starbucks. What the hell. So I ask information and they curtly tell me that there is no Starbucks anywhere. I found a map, it said there was a Starbucks. I was hoping it was like Platform 9 & 3/4 where I could just run into a blank wall and find it but...once again, nothing is how you expect it to be in Spain. It just isn't. So finally I realize that Starbucks is in Terminal 4. I was in Terminal 1 & 2. There was no way to get to the Starbucks. This wouldn't be so frightening if it hadn't been for the fact that a.) Katie knew Josh, who lived in Madrid, who said I could stay with them for the first few days while looking for apartments. b.) I didn't know Josh, and was planning on going over there with Katie because c.) I have no idea where Josh lives. d.) There is no wi-fi or power outlets in the Barajas airport. Aka no way to get ahold of Katie.

So there I am. Lost, homeless, and panicking at Barajas. I finally gather enough courage to go to the bathroom and find a stall big enough for my luggage cart & all my crap. It was handicapped and also properly equipped for needles (lucky me...) So I shut the door, lock it twice, and start bawling uncontrollably in the needle stall. Oddly enough there was a power outlet in there so while sobbing I plug my computer in and try to start it up anyways. To add to my problems, it wouldn't start. 5,000,000 miles in the air, my computer was hijacked and decided to not work at all. I called Jeri, even though it was approximately 2 a.m. in the United States, and almost started crying again when she answered the phone. After everything we decided that it'd be best to wait at the terminal for Katie, because I'd seen pictures on Facebook of her and she had long, blonde, curly hair and was 6 foot tall. That'd be EASY to find in Spain. I felt a little better.

I was unaware that before she came she cut her hair. All of it, actually.

Needless to say I didn't find Katie at the airport.

In the end, I couldn't find a cheap hotel & taxis freak me out so I hauled my 2 50lb bags on the bus to one bus stop, Johnny-rigged my carry-on bag to one of the suitcases, and schlepped all my crap to the transfer bus stop (finally a kind local helped me drag them because it was unbearable for one person....and she lectured me for 15 minutes about carrying my purse in front of me.)

I ended up in Alcala, an hour away from Madrid, with my old host family, who luckily has been kind enough to let me stay here while apartment hunting (details of that massive emotional roller-coaster to come later, haha). After sleeping FOREVER, I went out to meet up with Billy & got sangria with Kyle....awkwardly hysterically crying again once I saw Kyle in the Plaza de Cervantes...and again later at the Media Pinta in public. Note to self: buy Kyle a prezzie for embarrassing him in public so much.

En fin, this has been my life in Spain thus far. I'm currently watching Disney (some Spanish tv show) and secretly (or not so secretly) hoping that the Wizards of Waverly Place comes on.

I think that's all I've got for now...tomorrow I move into my piso after our first orientation meeting! P.S. I have the most badass address ever...stay tuned as to what it is :)

Love,

Chelsea Recently. (who has stopped crying :)