elisecordoblog

[elisecordoblog]

with four days left in spain, I was feeling reflective, so i arranged/recorded one of my favorite sesame street songs (which I found a Spanish translation of) — apologies for the low quality Photo Booth visuals, but i’m proud of the arrangement at least

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gardens of the Alcázar in Córdoba, spring 2016

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everything will be okay

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córdoba check-in #3: big things and little things

It’s been a while. I can explain. But first some pretty pictures of places I have gone recently that are not Córdoba! Prague --> La Mancha --> Barcelona. (After the fold, TW for negative self-talk.)

After coming back from Prague last month, readjusting to being away from two of my best friends was already hard enough, but then I realized I had more on my plate than I thought. I had put finding a summer internship on the back burner for a while, so I came back to Spain ready to go full force into my applications. As I kept working on them, I kept noticing little mistakes I had made in applications that were already sent in, and the more mistakes I saw, the more frustrated I got. The stakes felt high, and I didn’t want a misspelling or a small incorrect fact to be the difference between an offer and a rejection.

The frustrations kept piling up, and I started hiding in my room more. Not ALL the time, of course — I went on walks, I went to my classes, I went to my lessons — but I wasn’t initiating enough time with my friends here. I felt mentally exhausted all the time, and I kept blaming myself for it:

My self-care routine isn’t working well enough.

I’m not good enough at saving my money.

My attention to detail isn’t good enough for this internship.

My Spanish isn’t good enough and I’m not getting better fast enough.

I didn’t communicate well enough with the equipo and now I am why the bus to Almagro is late.

I stopped trusting myself, and I was sure that others weren’t trusting me. Even when they reassured me that they did trust me, I felt unworthy of trust. What seemed like one-off frustrations to other folks, to me felt like reminders of how much I mess up, how not-enough I am.

And every time I messed up, even with the small stuff like getting up late for class, or things I couldn’t control like having Google Maps send me to outdated addresses, the self-talk was usually the same:

These are things I know I can do. They’re such small things, and I’m doing them wrong. And how can I expect myself to do the big things if I can’t even do the little things?

My parents and my friends have been reminding me again and again why I can do the big things, and that support has meant so much. After all, being in Spain is a pretty big thing. Just being here and having the opportunity to be on this continent is a HUGE thing. And even with how hard it is, I will definitely look back on this semester and remember the good times and how much I’ve grown.

But how have I grown? Am I squandering my time here by not going on more adventures? Why am I letting my own head get in the way of me enjoying my time here?

Thank goodness Semana Santa arrived when it did, because traveling around Barcelona with the love of my life — and talking out all these problems and hearing so many loving, kind, amazing things in return — helped me remember a lot of things that I’ll keep telling myself as long as I’m in this country:

- We planned our Spring Break trip all by ourselves, using our money, and our knowledge/research, and our own sense of how much we wanted to do and how much we wanted to relax. That is a big thing.

- I’m getting a lot better at managing the things that make me anxious and being aware of when they’re getting in my way. That is a big thing that is still in progress, and the progress will get better the more patience I have with myself.

- I am getting better at Spanish — luv says my Castellano is noticeably more confident and clear than it was when I left. That’s a pretty big thing.

- I shouldn’t be hard on myself for taking the time I needed to settle in, because that is one big thing that takes a lot of time.

- Little things can sometimes add up to big things, but everybody deals with the kinds of little mistakes I was feeling hung up on, and I’m not any worse of a person or any less likely to do the big things well for my little mistakes, even if it feels like I’m making them a lot. (And yes, it only feels like the stakes are higher when I mess up because I am still in unfamiliar territory, but I deserve to relax and I deserve to feel proud of the big AND little things I get right.)

- Even though I dropped the ball on initiating plans with friends, I’ve still made a lot of friends here, or gotten close to old friends, who were willing to initiate plans with me. I’m surrounded by awesome, awesome people, and that’s a very big amazing thing.

- I am loved and worthy of love and my life is full of love, no matter if that love is right next to me or an ocean away. 

- I am here, and I made it halfway through the semester, and that is a big thing.

- Also, during Semana Santa, I heard back from my Senator’s office with an internship offer for the summer, and that was a wonderful, tangible reminder of the big things that I can do. 

The more I think about how I’ve been sorting the past semester into “big things” and “little things,” the more childish it sounds, like it should be a Sesame Street bit or something. But I’m in a place where I have to speak as simply and clearly as I can in my second language just to be understood, so carrying that simplicity over into English isn’t such a bad idea.

Anyway, now that I’m back in Córdoba, I’m ready to get back into the work I need to do and take the last half of this semester by the horns. I’m ready to go on more adventures, see more of this country, make more plans with my friends, and take advantage of all the great things Spain has to offer. I’ve only got less than two months left here, and even though I’m sure this won’t be the last time I’m in Spain, it still is my first time in Spain, and I’m making it last.

On a brighter, unrelated note: catalan patatas bravas are the best patatas bravas.

just..... just look at how perfect they are. they are perfect garlicky magic. let’s make patatas bravas with alioli a thing in the States please.

[elisecordoblog]

ah yes, my favourite foreign language feel, “I know what all of those words mean individually but not together like that”

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My Revelation in the Sagrada Familia

These are some musings I wrote in my journal the night after seeing the Sagrada Familia on the 29th of January. I read this to my best friend when I was staying with her in Prague this past weekend and she recommended I share it publicly. I may submit it to my college’s campus life magazine soon, but until then, here it is in its second draft. 

The Sagrada Familia has a small chapel in the back, behind the apse and protected by a security guard, where no pictures are allowed; visitors can only sit down and pray. Even though I’ve been an atheist/humanist all my life, I decided to sit in one of the pews and reflect on how I was feeling inside this big, gorgeous building. None of the other cathedrals we had seen thus far (and on the tour we saw a lot of cathedrals) had made me feel so connected to my own spirituality, so as I sat there, I said a little prayer where I tried to piece together what that meant.

Hi God. I don’t think you can hear me, and really, I don’t even believe in you. Then again, I suppose thinking you can actually hear me would be taking the idea of prayer too literally. Really, when people pray, it seems to be more of a meditation on their lives and their faith and their relationship to you and their relationship to fate. Whatever they don’t have power over, they ascribe to you, which is certainly more comfortable than thinking chance rules our lives. I often have to remind myself how much of my life IS chance. It’s a very helpless feeling. And many of the people in this building reconcile that helplessness through faith in you, which really does take a lot of strength.

After all, God, all these grand cathedrals I’ve been seeing throughout Spain are testaments to how strongly people are devoted to you and your son. They represent how people will spend lifetimes creating and building and collaborating in your name. And I like that. Because sitting here, I cannot help but think one thing over and over: “people built this.” It makes me wonder what your followers think in spaces like this. Maybe “people built this for you” or “you inspired this,” but all I’ve got is “people built this.” And that’s enough to inspired so much wonder and curiosity and joy and love in me that it almost feels divine.

Because I’m just a person, y’know? I’m one person who sometimes feels very big and can easily feel very, very small. Often it’s because of galaxies, forests, oceans — things people believe you built. But more often it’s because of nations, scientific discoveries, relationships, art — things we, us humans, made here on earth. Very rarely is it something like this building that combines both. Humans built this in your name and in your son’s name and as an atheist, that almost baffles me. Because Jesus was just a person too, y’know? As far as I can believe, at least. He was a guy, with amazing ideas and wisdom and strength and faith. He was a teacher, a philosopher, a Jew who died defending his people, and that takes a kind of devotion and courage that I often doubt I have. Maybe Jesus felt small sometimes too. Maybe he died in your name because he was OK with being small next to you. And right now, I’m OK with being small in this space. 

I used to sit in these kinds of buildings and wonder why you would condone such extravagant buildings when your son was a poor carpenter who shared what little he had with his community — wealth just never seemed very Christ-like to me. But it took me sitting in a cathedral that’s still in progress to think differently: the carpenters and architects and sculptors and masons and all the workers who build cathedrals (and the people who pay their salaries too, I bet) give so much of themselves over centuries to create a lasting space for their community. They’re big spaces because they’re big communities that will continue to last for generations. I like the idea that Christ was one of history’s great community organizers.

So, really, God, I suppose my point is… these cathedrals, these good works, these billions of believers and what they build… they’re not really about YOU. They’re inspired by you, but you are not the meaning that resonates with me. It’s about the collaboration and creativity and collective power that their belief in you — their belief that the unexplained parts of the universe have an order and you and Jesus have very significant roles in that order — inspires them to achieve. I like how you bring out the best in people. My mom’s favorite Bible verse is Galatians 5:22: “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” That’s resonating with me a lot right now. If people believe in you so much that they have the patience to work on a project from 1882 to 2027 in your name — a project that’s a culmination of a lot of the math and science and storytelling we’ve accumulated over the past 10,000 years of human history — and they have the love and kindness to share it with the world and the joy of choosing to work on it even though they may not see it done in their lifetime… that’s inspiring, to say the least. Those are feelings we should all have about something. 

Some people get those feelings from you. I feel them from collective power of us humans. But in the end, works like this building give me a new appreciation for how our convictions bring out the better angels of our nature — the fruit of the spirit — our best selves.

Anyway, God, I guess if I had to petition you for one thing, it would be that your followers don’t allow their convictions to bring out their worst selves too. Some very scary people who say they believe in you are attacking women/LGBTQ folks like me and running for president on racist platforms and generally not reflecting the fruit of the spirit. See, my favorite verse is 1 John 2:11: “But he that hateth his brother is in darkness, and walketh in darkness, and knoweth not whither he goeth, because that darkness hath blinded his eyes.” And you have followers, very powerful ones too, who hate their brothers and sisters. I want to see that change, so that is my prayer to you. That all your followers have the will and strength and kindness to work together, not against each other. That they all see the light of love and treat every person on the planet with the respect they deserve. That you prove my mom’s favorite verse right and show that our human spirit is the root (or the fruit) of some pretty incredible things.

Outside of that… forgive me for not giving a Euro to that street musician I saw earlier, make sure my significant other is safe and happy, and… forgive me for trespassing and lead me not to the Temptations. 

In the name of Anakin, Luke, and the Force, Amen. 

[elisecordoblog]

heads up!

Today's the day I'm going to Prague; I'll write a wrap-up post when I'm back on Tuesday morning, but til then, there will be live updates (i.e. Harmoniquest and Homestarquest pics) on my Instagram. Na viděnou!

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cordoba check-in #2: it’s all comin’ together

It’s Friday! My shopping period for UCO classes is over and now it seems like I’ve got a fairly reliable structure for the semester. What a relief. 

So, here’s what a normal week in Cordoba is going to look like:

Monday:

Morning and afternoon at the UCO, Facultad de Filosofía y Letras. Getting to see beautiful views like this on the way into the Judería, the neighborhood the college is in: 

Class #1 - Translation We’re taking Spanish texts and translating them into English, which makes a lot of sense; in my ongoing attempts to translate sbemails into Spanish, I’m realizing that a lot of the jokes will probably get lost since I don’t know a lot of Spanish jokes/wordplay/slang. Translating into my native language will keep the general gist of the original intact. We’ve already worked with one short piece called “Instrucciones para subir una escalera” (Instructions for climbing a staircase), and since it’s so ironic and dry in Spanish, I tried to make the translation as Thurber-esque as possible. If I get to do more stuff like that, this class will be a LOT of fun.

Class #2 - The Artistic Legacy of Al-Ándalus. This is my one non-PRESHCO class that I’m taking as a “direct matriculation” credit. I know I mentioned last post that I was deciding between this and the Economics of Culture one, and I thought for sure as of Wednesday that I would be taking the econ class, but after a while I realized that (a) I needed a class with more use of PowerPoint, which the art history class had, (b) the econ professor is a little harder to understand than the art history professor, and (c) the art history class has excursions to places like Sevilla, and I can’t pass up an opportunity like that. So, I’ve only gone to one class so far (the Wednesday section of the econ course conflicted with the Wednesday section of this one) but after weighing the pros and cons, I’m positive this one’s the winner. Can’t wait to get to know the art/architecture here better; I’ve been dying to see more mudéjar and Islamic golden age art since we toured places with their Andalusian legacy intact, like Toledo and, of course, Córdoba’s Mezquita:

A whole class about these beautiful works? Why did I ever think that was worth giving up for econ?

Tuesday:

Class #3 - Political Philosophy of Spain and Latin America. This one may or may not have enough people to still exist, and if they have to cancel it I’ll have to find a backup and fast, but so far I’m digging the hell out of it. So far we’ve covered pretty standard political theory territory — Socrates/Plato’s thoughts on democracy, the concepts of utopia/dystopia, Kantian ethics, the point of philosophy in general — but that’s a lot of ground to cover in one day, and I’m excited about where it goes from here. Getting to focus on how the Dead White Men I’ve studied in political theory apply specifically to the young democracies of the Spanish-speaking world will be fascinating.

Class #4 - A Comparison of Two Political Institutions: Spain and the USA. The second class, we dissected the preamble of the Spanish Constitution of 1978. Be still my nerdy political heart. 

After those classes, I pass by this beautiful view on my way to the Conservatorio Profesional. The PRESHCO equipo got in touch with Jaime Bedmard, the jazz professor there, and now I get to play in a small combo like I do back at Wellesley. I’m one of three guitarists in the group, but as always, I’m the only harmonica player, and as always, it feels so so so very good to play the music I love with some very very talented folks. I’m especially having fun trying to figure out music theory terms in Spanish; so far all I’ve got is that bemol = flat, becuadro = natural, sostenido = sharp, and fixed Do is generally more common than mobile Do. But probably the best part of the first day was explaining to my curious professor how a harmonica works — which I was really happy I was able to do with my decent Spanish. Generally, having this space to do something that I know I know with other people has been a huge breath of fresh air. 

Also, the building is super pretty.

Wednesday: 

Same classes as Monday. I think there’s a club that’s popular with PRESHCO folks with free cover on Wednesday nights, but I haven’t checked it out yet.

Thursday: 

Same classes as Tuesday, but instead of jazz, I have flamenco guitar lessons. This is completely new territory for me; all my guitar training is in blues, American folk, rock and jazz, so I’m excited to learn how to play a completely different kind of folk music. Right now we’re learning the first part of the sevillanas, a musical structure meant to be played to accompany a specific dance (which many of the other PRESHquitas are learning in a different class!), and I still haven’t got the rasgeuado strum figured out exactly, but once I do I’ll be able to play that like a champ. 

Also, I named the guitar I rented Felipe after the King of Spain. He is my baby for the semester.

Also, his case spoke to me, for obvious reasons.

Friday - Saturday:

Wide open. Lots of going to bars and cafes with friends. And of course, also a lot of hiding in bed and relaxing and regaining my mental energy. 

I’ve been reading a little bit about the science of bilingualism and apparently it is proven that deliberately, intentionally speaking in a second language is mentally taxing. Turns out that immersion in a second language is “like weightlifting for the brain... this constant cognitive challenge that bilinguals face my be responsible for an observed improvement in what’s called executive function, or the ability to filter out unnecessary information and make decisions.” (Check out the article; it’s very very interesting.) So, it makes sense that all I want to do is lie down after dinner and conversation with my host family — it’s a literal workout for my neurons! 

Still, I’ve continued feeling pretty frustrated and impatient with my listening comprehension progress. I can speak Spanish just fine — I can even put on an accent and sound like I know what I’m doing — but keeping up with understanding the gist of what people are saying still feels like a chore. Yesterday, I took to Facebook and asked my AP Spanish teacher from high school, who also spent time in Spain in college, how he got better at listening when he was abroad. It was reassuring to hear that when he was my age, he had the same issues I’m having now; he mentioned that after three months of immersion and incremental progress, he was able to watch a movie and understand everything. So, moving forward, I need to (a) surround myself with even more Spanish, and (b) be patient with myself and remember that it’s going to take a while before everything makes sense. And of course, it always helps to remind myself that I’m not alone.

Sunday:

Skyping the love of my life, usually around fourish. We can talk for hours and hours and it always feels so, so good.

What else?

Next week, there’s a four-day weekend for Día de Andalucía, so I’m visiting @evil-bones-mccoy and @czech-out-my-blague in beautiful Prague! Since I booked my tickets for everything so close to the wire, my transportation schedule will be pretty crazy. Right after flamenco, I have to go straight to the train station, and once I’m in Madrid it’ll be midnight, and then my flight leaves at 6:30 so I’m not bothering to get a hostel. I’m basically staying the night at the airport. But it’ll be so worth it to see my squadmates once again and get a taste of Central Europe!

So ‘til then, I leave you with this picture of me examining the pata de jamón my host parents brought home.

[elisecordoblog]

brief addendum to the last post

Turns out I have over 25 harmoniquest photos on my main blog that I forgot to reblog to here, so to save me time and keep everything in one place, I redirect you instead to my instagram: https://www.instagram.com/misselisebrown/

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cordoba check-in — homesickness and anxiety are a thing, but life is good and i am ok

I seem to have fulfilled that classic study-abroad stereotype of the person who sets up a blog but barely updates it after the first week. so I guess now is just as good a time as any to update it. VERY long post ahead.

TLDR: language immersion, being away from my roots, and self-care while abroad are more difficult than I expected, but I’m taking things one day at a time and have the support of a bunch of amazing people near and far.

I’ve been in Córdoba now for a little over two weeks, which means it’s been almost a month since I’ve arrived in Spain. I’ve loved it so far. My classes are engaging, my host family has been nothing but sweet and fun and hospitable, my housemate is an incredible human being and a fantastic friend, I’m growing closer to the other PRESHCO folks from Wellesley and not-Wellesley alike, and the city is so beautiful and exciting without being too big or overwhelming. There’s even a giant river that runs through the center, and being from Portland, that made me feel right at home. I’ve gotten a chance to explore a good chunk of the city and take #harmoniquest photos accordingly — they all go straight to my main blog, though, so I’ll reblog them here soon.

All that said, pretty soon after settling in here, I started to feel some pretty bad homesickness settling in. I found myself with the same thought I had after my first three weeks or so at Wellesley: “Oh wow… this is NOT summer camp anymore. This is now my life.” Only this time, in addition to being away from my roots, I’m also primarily speaking/hearing a language I’m not fluent in, and even with our four-day Spanish intensive, it’s a constant mental exercise for me to keep up with the language (especially since the Cordobés accent is really fast and drops lots of consonants, mostly /s/). Plus, I’m also miles away from the love of my life, and that started feeling really rough after a few weeks. I am lucky to be living in a time where everyone I love is just a text or a Skype call away, so — for lack of a more secular phrase — I’m counting my blessings.

Having a clear structure helps me when I’m feeling untethered like this, but trying to establish a routine has been somewhat rocky. For example, last week, we began our PRESHCO classes, and I found three that I’m very excited about — Translation, Comparative Politics (Spain/USA), and Political Philosophy — and this week is our shopping period for classes at the UCO — I’m having a hard time choosing between Economics Of Culture and Andalusian Art History. Exploring all these options has been fun, but this week, as we’re trying to figure out what classes fit into our schedule, our PRESHCO classes are canceled. I can see why they wanted us to focus on finding PRESHCO classes one week and UCO classes the next, but it still seems odd to have a weeklong gap in PRESHCO classes right after syllabus week.

Also, mealtimes are very different in Spain than in the U.S.: breakfast is whenever you wake up, lunch is usually around 2 PM, and dinner is around 9 PM. In between, of course, there’s snacks, but that time adjustment on top of the jetlag wasn’t easy. Any time I’m not out and about or eating, I’ve been mostly using to sleep or Tumbl. 

Generally, self-care over here has turned out to be harder than I thought. I try following the routines I had at Wellesley, but they don’t work quite as well when there’s so much Big and New and Different to adjust to. I saw an image lately that resonated with me quite a bit:

I really do. Not only because all I’ve been doing lately is eating, sleeping, and wondering what the hell everything around me is — I barely have the vocabulary to express what I want/need or understand EXACTLY what people are saying. I knew going in that my Spanish wasn’t perfect by any means, but I never expected it to be this frustrating. It contributed to a lot of the general frustration and homesickness I felt once it really set in that I have to try my hardest to make this place my home.

And that frustration reached a boiling point sooner than I expected. I had two panic attacks within 24 hours toward the end of my first week in Córdoba. The first was because of an eBill from Wellesley that made me instantly worried I had forgotten to get all my expenses taken care of (turned out it was just an automatic reminder and I really had done everything I needed to do), and subsequently I worried that I generally was not ready to be here and was scared out of my mind. That panic attack led to me staying up a bit too late before an excursion to Zuheros the next morning, and between the attack and the bus ride I had forgotten to drink enough water or have enough breakfast. The lack of calories/energy/water in my system plus a surprisingly strenuous hike through the Cueva de los Murciélagos made me physically exhausted, and that piled on top of my emotional exhaustion made me nauseous. While explaining to the equipo (the team in charge of all the administrative stuff) why I desperately needed a glass of water and an ibuprofen, I broke down again. Turns out it’s hard to express things like “I’m scared I don’t belong here and I feel frustrated that I’m not taking better care of myself” while crying hysterically. Luckily, one member of the equipo speaks English, so we discussed everything that had been getting me down, and her support — along with the support of my friends, new and old, later that day — made me feel so, so much better.

I think there are a few reasons why that particular moment, that particular email about that particular thing, was the one that set me off. For one, I hate feeling like I’ve left things unfinished before starting Big New Things. A lot of preparation went into this trip, and I felt so anxious the minute it felt like I left something that important undone. That uncertainty got to me. Uncertainty about things I want to control is what makes my anxiety really go off. But on top of that, I came to Spain expecting to “get away from it all,” or more specifically, from the hustle and bustle of Wellesley life. I love my alma mater, but I was looking forward to this semester as a chance to refresh and remind myself what life outside the Bubble is like. Having a piece of the Bubble — a piece that I thought I had taken care of — follow me here was not a very pleasant surprise, especially when I’m also trying to accustom myself to a whole new kind of hustle and bustle.

But “getting away from it all” has also been harder than I expected. Since getting here, I’ve thought about the States a lot. I’m watching an election cycle from afar, and my political heart feels sad for that. I’m nostalgic for the weirdest little things, like American car brands (it feels oddly surreal to see logos for car manufacturers that I’ve never seen before) or barbecue flavored Pringles (although jamón flavored Pringles give them a run for their money). I even feel more connected to the English language just because the immersion experience has hit me so hard. I’ve been thinking about what fluency really means; I feel like I can communicate ideas so precisely in English that I can only approximate in Spanish. I’ve been listening to Shakespeare to get to sleep because I’ve been contemplating what all that means. I’ve been thinking more deeply about the wordplay in cartoons like Homestar Runner and how I’m not good enough at Spanish to come up with those same kinds of jokes. I know I should be listening to Cervantes audiobooks or something, but something about “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and sbemails has been keeping me grounded. They’re familiar things in a place where so little is familiar.

But I’m getting better and better at getting by, thanks to the support of the equipo and my fellow PRESHquitas and my amazing host family. I’m taking it all one day at a time. A few days after my panic attacks I rode a horse for the first time in at least ten years — I fell directly on my ass (my pelvis still hurts from the fall) but I got right back on and enjoyed the ride. I’ve been skyping my love (who got me a GIANT BOX OF CHOCOLATE for Valentine’s Day) every week and texting my squad and family every day. I rented a guitar for the flamenco class the program offers, and being able to play again for the first time in weeks has been VERY healing. And as I’m building a new squad here, I’ve been able to go to a bunch of wonderful bars and cafes and tapas places.

The more I think about it, the more I realize this semester really is a once in a lifetime opportunity. When else would I get to travel and study and explore and have so much fun with such a great group of people? When else would I get to go to another country without having to worry about things like meals and sightseeing and laundry? When else would I get reimbursed for any extra sightseeing I do? And as one of the professors here reminded us when we arrived, when are we ever going to be this young and adventurous again?

So, even with all the adjustment in progress, even with how far from my roots I am, even with my Spanish feeling less adequate by the day, I’m thankful to be here. I’m excited to be here. I’m thrilled to keep learning and improving and exploring and growing. I’m going to keep in mind a saying I learned in my first college Spanish class: No te preocupes, ocúpate — Don’t worry, keep busy.

So with that in mind, the best thing to keep me busy for now is sleep.

[elisecordoblog]

so in portland it’s not common to see people with umbrellas since it’s easier to just wear a hoodie to stay dry. here in cordoba, however, people use umbrellas, so today i decided to use the one my study abroad program gave me.

how i am pretty sure an umbrella is supposed to look:

how the umbrella insisted on looking anyway:

hypothesis confirmed: umbrellas are terrible, just wear a freakin raincoat.

[elisecordoblog]

How to Cope with Change

1. See it as a process, not a one time event. When you make a change in your life, there are lots of small adaptations to be made. It takes time to process and adjust to those changes – so be patient with yourself. 2. Change the way you think about change. Try to see it in a positive light. Even although there are lots of negatives and challenges, you’re likely to benefit in the end. 3. Face your feelings, and especially the negative ones. If you don’t, they’ll simmer beneath the surface and make it harder for you to cope. Feelings are neither good nor bad. They just are. If you feel bad, you feel bad! 4. Notice any areas where you have control as that will help you to feel less trapped or boxed in. 5. Pay attention to your thoughts and attitudes – and choose to look for the positives, and to frame uncertainties in a hopeful way. 6. Stay in touch with people who care, and can act as a support in this time of change.

[elisecordoblog]

Day 7: Barcelona

Somehow everyone else on this trip got amazing wifi in their rooms except me so I'm gonna keep this one short and easy to upload I am in LOVE with Barcelona. the people are really pretty, and the buildings are really gorgeous, and the food is FANTASTIC (as in, I just had the best vegan burger I've ever had and I think it's the best vegan burger I'll ever have) AND THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA IS A REAL THING THAT EXISTS AND I SAW IT I am wondering if maybe my so-far-unconditional love for Barcelona is because Madrid was so exhausting and overwhelming and this is the first day in a while that I've come back to the hotel without sore feet so Barcelona just feels better because of that, but then again, Madrid doesn't have the Mediterranean or punk rock vegan bars with amazing stouts. And Madrid DOES have huge claustrophobic crowds. So, so far Barcelona has really won me over. And tomorrow I get to see more! Man... I should learn to speak Catalan.

[elisecordoblog]

Sorry about all those random posts, still not used to having two blogs to keep track of ><

[elisecordoblog]

holy toledo batman #Harmoniquest (en Toledo, Reino De España)

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We ate some marzipan. She was delicious. @strongbadactual #homestarquest (en Plaza de Zocodover)

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More museums #homestarquest (en Museo Nacional del Prado)