I don't want to teach anymore. Not like this. Not in public schools. Not where the students don't want to learn, but there's tons of pressure on the teacher to make them learn. Not where I work SO LONG AND HARD to plan lessons and carry them out, and it's all for NOTHING. I don't want to teach anymore. I feel envious of people who have other jobs. Why don't I change careers? Because as a teacher, I get loads of time off and then I can travel. Most other careers in the United States give ten vacation days per year. TEN! As a teacher, I get a week here and there throughout the year, and then at least six weeks in the summer. It's more freedom. I have to travel. It's my air, my oxygen, ... read more

What a beautiful city! Sitges is brighter than Barcelona, cuter, and younger. I don't feel like sightseeing here; I just want to wander around by the ocean and pop in and out of shops. One of my favorite things when I travel is to go in local shops and look at the clothes, jewelry, and shoes. I like to buy unique souveniers: barret, shoulder bag, shoes, accessories. I walk towards the ocean, following the sound of the waves. An elderly man jogs down the beach, wearing nothing but a little speedo. I crack up and look around to see if anyone else is amused, wanting to share the moment. But no one seems to notice, which cracks me up again. The Mediterranean Sea is wild and strong and blue. The waves roll over each other, unfolding ... read more

You cannot go to southern Spain and NOT see a flamenco show! I reserve a seat for a dinner-and-show venue on La Rambla. The upstairs restaurant looks really high-end (or "posh" as the British call it), and the buffet overflows with some of the most delicious-smelling food I've ever encountered. TONS of seafood paella, cassaroles with fish, pepper steak, flan, cheesecake, breads, Spanish rice, a variety of baked fish, oysters, soups, stuffed mushrooms... I want to try EVERYTHING! I sit at a table for one, next to two elderly gentlemen. When I hear them talking, my ears perk up. They're American. "So where ya from?" I ask. "Richmond, Virginia," they say. They are on a Mediterranean cruise. I learn that they've been friends for longer than I've been alive, and they travel the world together. They've ... read more

My hostel is cute, with walls painted orange, green, hot pink, and purple. The common room has two couches, a flat screen TV, a DVD player (and you can borrow movies from the front desk), and a computer. I get to stay here for three nights for fifty pounds! I walk to the pastry shop next door and ask, in Spanish, how much the chocolate one costs. He answers, in Spanish 1.30. Cheap! I say I'd like one. I like practicing my Spanish. I like that people here assume I speak Spanish and just start talking to me in Spanish. Technically, the language of Barcelona is Catalan, which is a combination of French, Spanish, and Arabic. What we Americans call "Spanish" is what they would call "Castillano". Pretty much everyone here speaks both languages. I can ... read more

After lying around all day today, I finally take a shower and go to an Irish pub without putting on any make-up or fixing my hair. I don't look frumpy or anything; I look fine, but not my best. Now I'm wishing I'd fixed myself up. I can't compete with the girls who've straightened their hair and put on lipstick and high heels. I pull out my little notepad and start writing. The guys all wear nice jeans and dress shoes with button-down shirts. They stand in clusters of three or four, talking, with one hand in their pocket and the other one holding a beer. One of them approaches me. "Hi, not to be nosy, but what is it that you're writing?" "Oh, just observations, thoughts, things like that," I tell him. He introduces himself ... read more