This weekend I am going to Barcelona.
In an ideal world,
I'll come home home with stories quasi-Vicky Cristina Barcelona-esque.
[And I'd have hair as blonde as Scarlett Johansson's.
And Pedro Almodovar would put me in his movies instead of Penelope Cruz. Broken Embraces? I wanna see it? Now? Thanks megavideo.
And I'd be BFF with Woody Allen.
And I'd be married to Javier Bardem, but whatev.]
First, I'd go to the Palau de La Musica Catalana.
It's turning 101 and this year,
Happy Birthday, you pretty thing.
I would have to enter Custo Barcelona in it's madre patria...more- the it's home city! Their use of color is fearless. They're really just nutty. I love themm.
Then I'd do Tour de Stade in Camp Nou.
Maybe.
I'd probably just give up after two rows because it's the biggest stadium in Europe and I might want to die.
Lastly, and most certainly...
[You know, seeing as there is a slight possibility I might not run into all my favorite actors and film directors in the same place at the same time and I may just have to settle for normal tourist kitsch.]
I simply must pay a visit to the works of God's architect, Antonio Gaudi.
This man was celibate his whole life in order to devote himself to creating.
And then, one day, he was hit by a vehicle of some sort and no one would take him to the hospital because he was so poorly dressed and they thought he was a hobo.
And you say fashion isn't life-changing.
Five days later he died.
If there's a heaven I'm pretty sure this man deserves to be in it.
Thanks for the sickest shit ever sirrr.
I am going to FREAK when I see the Sagrada Familia. I have been waiting for this foreverr.
Parque Guell by Antonio Gaudi.
Cutesicles.
I don't think my 305 Miami Spanish is going to cut it, but wish me well.
¡Sangria!
¡Ole!
¡Why don't we use these exclamation points, they're adorable!
♥
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