Well, last weekend I of course went to Jerez de la Frontera, today I booked a flight to go see Kayleigh in Prague in November (I stop in Frankfurt on the way there and Munich on the way back, so I get to see two lovely airports in Germany), and Friday we leave on a trip for Galicia, the seafood-rich region of Spain to the North of Portugal. (Also the destination of the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela for the art history buffs in the crowd).
This is my first trip to Europe, and here are the places I want to go (the must-sees in all-caps):
1. BARCELONA
2. PARIS
3. LONDON
4. FLORENCE
5. Other sites in England
6. Ireland
7. Scotland
8. Portugal
9. Berlin
10. Rome
11. Naples
12. Milan
13. Other sites in Italy
14. Greece
15. Morocco (strait of Gibraltar)
This isn't an exhaustive list of everywhere I want to go, but I'm trying to be realistic. For Christmas break I will probably go home for a week or two, then fly to London and make my way back to Madrid by train (possibly with Patrick for part of that journey?). Barcelona and Paris are easy weekend journeys. Florence is amazing so I am shooting to go there for Easter vacation. If Patrick or someone came for their spring break, I would probably go with them to Barcelona or Lisbon for a few days.
What have I missed? It would be lovely to go to a relaxing beach on the Mediterranean. With Georgetown I will also go on trips to Sevilla, Extremadura, Segovia, Toledo, Córdoba and Granada (my mom's favorite place in Spain). I feel like I need to start planning now! Orientation classes are almost over, and I am packing my Monday-Tuesday schedule so I can travel. Or just enjoy life in Madrid.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Estoy en España, vale
Slowly but surely, I am adjusting to the fact that I am in Spain. It is still hard to believe.
This weekend we went to Jerez de la Frontera, and I had a fabulous time. Jerez is in Andalucia, and the English word "sherry"is a mispronunciation of the name "Jerez." The error is fine with the sherry producers since England is the biggest importer of sherry.
We went to Jerez for the weekend because the Georgetown Club in Spain was having a trip. We heard that someone somehow connected to the group owned a bodega. Little did we know it was the Gonzalez-Byass bodega, where Tio Pepe, of giant sign in la Puerta del Sol in Madrid fame, is produced. It was kind of a big deal.
I got lost in the train station trying to find the group. The program director made it sound like there was only one way to exit the Metro and enter the Atocha-Renfe station, but of course I managed to find a new route. Luckily enough time was built into our timetable that I was able to wander around lost for 20 minutes and still find the group with a comfortable amout of time to spare.
The group from the Georgetown Club was pretty varied in age, from relatively young alums to a group of four senior citizens. In total, there were less than 30 of us on the trip.
From Madrid, we took the AVE (Alta Velocidad Española) train to Sevilla, which was pretty sweet. We barreled through the Spanish countryside in the time it takes to watch a feature film. The train was comfortable, and I definitely prefer it to flying for short distances.
From Sevilla, we caught a charter bus to Jerez, where we were late for the beginning of the dressage show (Jerez is also known for its horses). The show definitely exceeded my expectations.
From there we went to our hotel, which was amazing (I heard it has four stars). The shower had five nozzles, and I felt the cleanest I have since coming to Spain since I didn't have to feel guilty about racking up my family's water bill. Also Georgetown is obviously ripping us off big time for tuition if we can afford to stay there during out pre-paid excursion.
We walked through Jerez, which is pretty small, and sat down for a while at a cafe. After a while, the heat and sun got to be pretty oppressive (the south is A LOT hotter than here in central Spain). I made a big fuss about how I was going to get a sunburn only to realize the next day I had my packets of emergency sunscreen in my purse the whole time.
We had a very rushed visit to the Alcazar, a Muslim fortress-palace. It seemed nice, but we were literally running through it because we hadn't realized how early it closed. Its main tourist trap is the Camara Obscura, which affords a picturesque view of all of Jerez.
On the way back we peeked into the cathedral and ended up walking through a wedding. We also passed another wedding on the way back to the hotel. I think my hobby should be walking around on Saturday evenings to take pictures of all of the weddings I see.
That night, we had a very fancy dinner in the bodega. I discovered that sweet sherry is barely drinkable, at least to my palate (dry is much better). The dinner was very nice.
Afterwards, there was a private flamenco show, which I thought was incredible. The singing and the guitar was good, but the dancers were amazing. I'm not sure how choreographed it was, but the emotion was beautiful. The male dancer's shoes looked a lot like Irish dancing hard shoes, which made me wistful about Irish dance. I kind of want to take beginner flamenco classes.
The next morning we woke up for breakfast in the hotel and then went over to tour the bodega. I felt very Spanish. From there, we literally ran back to the hotel to catch the bus back to Sevilla for our train to Madrid.
Today we had more orientation class. It doesn't seem very serious, and I don't feel stressed out, but I feel like there is a lot I need to do this week. This weekend we are going to Galicia (region in the North, highlights: seafood and Santiago de Compostela). Classes "start" October 2, but the process is such that we don't actually register until three weeks into the semester. As I am not planning on having any classes on Thursdays and Fridays, that means next week I am pretty much idle. The following weekend (Oct 9-13) is Columbus Day (definitely a holiday here in Spain) and I am trying to throw together a last minute weekend to see Kayleigh in Paris. I am also probably going to fly to see her in Prague in November.
The Estanque en el Parque del Buen Retiro:
I am such a horse whisperer.
View from the Mezquita en el Alcazar:
The incredible flamenco show:
A gorgeous patio in the Gonzalez-Byass Bodega
This weekend we went to Jerez de la Frontera, and I had a fabulous time. Jerez is in Andalucia, and the English word "sherry"is a mispronunciation of the name "Jerez." The error is fine with the sherry producers since England is the biggest importer of sherry.
We went to Jerez for the weekend because the Georgetown Club in Spain was having a trip. We heard that someone somehow connected to the group owned a bodega. Little did we know it was the Gonzalez-Byass bodega, where Tio Pepe, of giant sign in la Puerta del Sol in Madrid fame, is produced. It was kind of a big deal.
I got lost in the train station trying to find the group. The program director made it sound like there was only one way to exit the Metro and enter the Atocha-Renfe station, but of course I managed to find a new route. Luckily enough time was built into our timetable that I was able to wander around lost for 20 minutes and still find the group with a comfortable amout of time to spare.
The group from the Georgetown Club was pretty varied in age, from relatively young alums to a group of four senior citizens. In total, there were less than 30 of us on the trip.
From Madrid, we took the AVE (Alta Velocidad Española) train to Sevilla, which was pretty sweet. We barreled through the Spanish countryside in the time it takes to watch a feature film. The train was comfortable, and I definitely prefer it to flying for short distances.
From Sevilla, we caught a charter bus to Jerez, where we were late for the beginning of the dressage show (Jerez is also known for its horses). The show definitely exceeded my expectations.
From there we went to our hotel, which was amazing (I heard it has four stars). The shower had five nozzles, and I felt the cleanest I have since coming to Spain since I didn't have to feel guilty about racking up my family's water bill. Also Georgetown is obviously ripping us off big time for tuition if we can afford to stay there during out pre-paid excursion.
We walked through Jerez, which is pretty small, and sat down for a while at a cafe. After a while, the heat and sun got to be pretty oppressive (the south is A LOT hotter than here in central Spain). I made a big fuss about how I was going to get a sunburn only to realize the next day I had my packets of emergency sunscreen in my purse the whole time.
We had a very rushed visit to the Alcazar, a Muslim fortress-palace. It seemed nice, but we were literally running through it because we hadn't realized how early it closed. Its main tourist trap is the Camara Obscura, which affords a picturesque view of all of Jerez.
On the way back we peeked into the cathedral and ended up walking through a wedding. We also passed another wedding on the way back to the hotel. I think my hobby should be walking around on Saturday evenings to take pictures of all of the weddings I see.
That night, we had a very fancy dinner in the bodega. I discovered that sweet sherry is barely drinkable, at least to my palate (dry is much better). The dinner was very nice.
Afterwards, there was a private flamenco show, which I thought was incredible. The singing and the guitar was good, but the dancers were amazing. I'm not sure how choreographed it was, but the emotion was beautiful. The male dancer's shoes looked a lot like Irish dancing hard shoes, which made me wistful about Irish dance. I kind of want to take beginner flamenco classes.
The next morning we woke up for breakfast in the hotel and then went over to tour the bodega. I felt very Spanish. From there, we literally ran back to the hotel to catch the bus back to Sevilla for our train to Madrid.
Today we had more orientation class. It doesn't seem very serious, and I don't feel stressed out, but I feel like there is a lot I need to do this week. This weekend we are going to Galicia (region in the North, highlights: seafood and Santiago de Compostela). Classes "start" October 2, but the process is such that we don't actually register until three weeks into the semester. As I am not planning on having any classes on Thursdays and Fridays, that means next week I am pretty much idle. The following weekend (Oct 9-13) is Columbus Day (definitely a holiday here in Spain) and I am trying to throw together a last minute weekend to see Kayleigh in Paris. I am also probably going to fly to see her in Prague in November.
The Estanque en el Parque del Buen Retiro:
I am such a horse whisperer.
View from the Mezquita en el Alcazar:
The incredible flamenco show:
A gorgeous patio in the Gonzalez-Byass Bodega
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Madrid with the fam and host fam
Escrito 13 septiembre
Well, now it’s even more real. I am living with a host family. In Madrid. It is hard for me to believe!
Yesterday I slept in waaay too late, and then I went to the Palacio Real with my parents. It was my first time taking the Metro, and I found the Metro pleasant. The system is huge, think New York except more user-friendly.
There was a pretty long line to get into the Palacio Real and I thought I was going to pass out in the mid-day sun (this happens when I don’t eat breakfast…). We had to make a pit stop at the cafeteria. The Palacio Real is no longer in use except for official state functions, and it is incredible. So much gold. Have I mentioned that my goal for the year is to marry into Spanish royalty?
Then we walked to the Plaza Mayor, the biggest plaza in Madrid. We sat in one of the cafés, and tried to pretend we lived lives of Spanish leisure. Then we walked over to the Plaza del Sol. And that’s about when my parents and I called it a day.
I couldn’t sleep at all last night, that same nervous anticipation, I guess, plus the fact that both of my parents are snorers didn’t help.
I did get up in time for the free breakfast this morning, which was good. My mom wanted to see the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, which I kind of thought was a waste of our time together. The school is huge, pretty dated looking, and covered with graffiti. I think there are about 100,000 students.
This afternoon my parents deposited me at my host family’s house. It felt pretty weird leaving them, even though I haven’t been living with them full time for the past two years. My mom of course was overly emotional. What can you do.
The host family seems very nice. My room is right by the front door and pink (perhaps my host mother always secretly wanted a daughter?). They have had many students live with them before, including a Georgetown alum who thought this was the best experience of her life.
Cristina is a lawyer who just started working again after taking time off while her boys were young. She seems like supermom – she told me that her sons are her world, and she does it all while being super fashionable.
Miguel is a banker. I didn’t get to talk to him alone too much but he seems friendly and he told me that Real Madrid is life.
They have two sons, Jaime and Carlos, who are seven and eight. When Cristina took me and the boys out for a walk, I freaked out because they were wearing matching clothes (shorts, dress shirts, boat shoes…later on matching superhero pajamas) and looked the same size. I made the brilliant discovery halfway into the trip that their hair is cut slightly differently. As long as this difference is maintained all year, we’re golden. I am somewhat skeptical over the feasibility of my living with children. Of course, I had a brother of that age, but I still don’t understand at all what makes eight year old boys tick. And one of the last times I babysat involved poison control.
The neighborhood seems nice, and safe. There are a lot of shops. There is also a Citibank, which will be excellent because I am going through euros like crazy.
We then walked through part of El Retiro, a large park, complete with waterfalls, hills, and a central water area with boats around which performers, such as a puppeteer, entertained. I actually had my camera with me but didn’t take any photos because I felt like it would kill the family’s authentic Spanish vibe, which in retrospect is not a great reason. I think I was just kind of embarrassed about potentially being judged over my tendency to over photograph. Luckily, El Retiro is within walking distance, so I imagine I will return many a time. Perhaps I will even start up a good exercise regimen so I can stop feeling like the biggest person in the room in Madrid.
I had dinner with Cristina and Miguel while watching the news in Spanish. She made me pasta and some kind of pork. Hopefully I will like the food and won’t gain weight. Everything I think here is cooked in olive oil, and the Spanish eat a lot of ham. After the news we watched a reality show about Spaniards who want to be circus freaks. I kept thinking of snarky comments to make in English, but I wasn’t sure how to translate, or whether they would share my sentiments, so I kept pretty quiet.
Cristina and Miguel kept telling me how great my Spanish was, but obviously I think they were just being nice. I do feel very limited by my vocabulary and am rusty. There were a few awkward moments, such as when Cristina asked what my brother studied at Georgetown, and I said literature and politics. When she remarked, wow, the same as you, instead of admitting my mistake and telling her that he actually is a bio major, I sheepishly grinned and said we were very similar. Later she asked whether I was “very uncomfortable,” and I said sí because I thought she asked me if I was comfortable. But I obviously will improve, and that’s really why I am here. Is it just me, or did I do a terrible job of writing sentences in English in this entry??
Tomorrow is the welcome dinner for the seven of us here from Georgetown this semester. That is when I really need to come out of my shell and communicate. Tonight I am going to head to bed early, even though it is La Noche en Blanco, this once a night festival when all of the museums and cultural sites are open late, and free. But I haven’t slept well in days and don’t have anyone to go with or a mobile phone set up or anything, so I don’t feel bad about going to sleep at 23:30, which is incredibly early in Madrid.
The good news: the family has wi-fi!!!! They still need to give me the security password, which is why this entry will be published later, but I will have access to the internet and therefore Skype, e-mail, Facebook, this blog, etc.
El Palacio Real:
El visto del Palacio:
Well, now it’s even more real. I am living with a host family. In Madrid. It is hard for me to believe!
Yesterday I slept in waaay too late, and then I went to the Palacio Real with my parents. It was my first time taking the Metro, and I found the Metro pleasant. The system is huge, think New York except more user-friendly.
There was a pretty long line to get into the Palacio Real and I thought I was going to pass out in the mid-day sun (this happens when I don’t eat breakfast…). We had to make a pit stop at the cafeteria. The Palacio Real is no longer in use except for official state functions, and it is incredible. So much gold. Have I mentioned that my goal for the year is to marry into Spanish royalty?
Then we walked to the Plaza Mayor, the biggest plaza in Madrid. We sat in one of the cafés, and tried to pretend we lived lives of Spanish leisure. Then we walked over to the Plaza del Sol. And that’s about when my parents and I called it a day.
I couldn’t sleep at all last night, that same nervous anticipation, I guess, plus the fact that both of my parents are snorers didn’t help.
I did get up in time for the free breakfast this morning, which was good. My mom wanted to see the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, which I kind of thought was a waste of our time together. The school is huge, pretty dated looking, and covered with graffiti. I think there are about 100,000 students.
This afternoon my parents deposited me at my host family’s house. It felt pretty weird leaving them, even though I haven’t been living with them full time for the past two years. My mom of course was overly emotional. What can you do.
The host family seems very nice. My room is right by the front door and pink (perhaps my host mother always secretly wanted a daughter?). They have had many students live with them before, including a Georgetown alum who thought this was the best experience of her life.
Cristina is a lawyer who just started working again after taking time off while her boys were young. She seems like supermom – she told me that her sons are her world, and she does it all while being super fashionable.
Miguel is a banker. I didn’t get to talk to him alone too much but he seems friendly and he told me that Real Madrid is life.
They have two sons, Jaime and Carlos, who are seven and eight. When Cristina took me and the boys out for a walk, I freaked out because they were wearing matching clothes (shorts, dress shirts, boat shoes…later on matching superhero pajamas) and looked the same size. I made the brilliant discovery halfway into the trip that their hair is cut slightly differently. As long as this difference is maintained all year, we’re golden. I am somewhat skeptical over the feasibility of my living with children. Of course, I had a brother of that age, but I still don’t understand at all what makes eight year old boys tick. And one of the last times I babysat involved poison control.
The neighborhood seems nice, and safe. There are a lot of shops. There is also a Citibank, which will be excellent because I am going through euros like crazy.
We then walked through part of El Retiro, a large park, complete with waterfalls, hills, and a central water area with boats around which performers, such as a puppeteer, entertained. I actually had my camera with me but didn’t take any photos because I felt like it would kill the family’s authentic Spanish vibe, which in retrospect is not a great reason. I think I was just kind of embarrassed about potentially being judged over my tendency to over photograph. Luckily, El Retiro is within walking distance, so I imagine I will return many a time. Perhaps I will even start up a good exercise regimen so I can stop feeling like the biggest person in the room in Madrid.
I had dinner with Cristina and Miguel while watching the news in Spanish. She made me pasta and some kind of pork. Hopefully I will like the food and won’t gain weight. Everything I think here is cooked in olive oil, and the Spanish eat a lot of ham. After the news we watched a reality show about Spaniards who want to be circus freaks. I kept thinking of snarky comments to make in English, but I wasn’t sure how to translate, or whether they would share my sentiments, so I kept pretty quiet.
Cristina and Miguel kept telling me how great my Spanish was, but obviously I think they were just being nice. I do feel very limited by my vocabulary and am rusty. There were a few awkward moments, such as when Cristina asked what my brother studied at Georgetown, and I said literature and politics. When she remarked, wow, the same as you, instead of admitting my mistake and telling her that he actually is a bio major, I sheepishly grinned and said we were very similar. Later she asked whether I was “very uncomfortable,” and I said sí because I thought she asked me if I was comfortable. But I obviously will improve, and that’s really why I am here. Is it just me, or did I do a terrible job of writing sentences in English in this entry??
Tomorrow is the welcome dinner for the seven of us here from Georgetown this semester. That is when I really need to come out of my shell and communicate. Tonight I am going to head to bed early, even though it is La Noche en Blanco, this once a night festival when all of the museums and cultural sites are open late, and free. But I haven’t slept well in days and don’t have anyone to go with or a mobile phone set up or anything, so I don’t feel bad about going to sleep at 23:30, which is incredibly early in Madrid.
The good news: the family has wi-fi!!!! They still need to give me the security password, which is why this entry will be published later, but I will have access to the internet and therefore Skype, e-mail, Facebook, this blog, etc.
El Palacio Real:
El visto del Palacio:
La Plaza Mayor:
Mis padres en la Plaza del Sol:
Mi facultad en la Universidad Complutense de Madrid:
And so it begins!
Escrito 11 septiembre
Well, believe it or not, I am finally in Spain! To date my only international travels had been a road trip to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls and then Toronto, which is about as American you can get and not be in the States.
I was ready to leave well before yesterday. My parents, who accompanied me on the flight and are leaving for a tour of Spain on Saturday were not ready. It came down to the wire.
I think every suitcase was slightly overweight over the 23 kg limit, but none weighed more than 24 kg so the agent did not charge us. Score. One of my two suitcases was selected for the random TSA screening. It was funny because I was waiting in the world’s longest security line and saw them pull my bag.
We flew on Iberia, which has direct daily flights from O’Hare (ORD) to Madrid (MAD), which was nice. The flight was about eight hours, which wasn’t too bad although previously the longest flight I had been on was from Midway to Oakland, which was definitely a lot less than that.
In the terminal, we saw the Notre Dame program waiting, and they were all on our flight. As many of you know, I was pretty much bred to attend the University of Notre Dame and still have some regrets about not going there. It was kind of a sting because there were probably almost thirty of them and they were all flying together and seemed very friendly. There will be a grand total of seven students from Georgetown in Madrid this semester, and I pretty much don’t know them at all. The normal thing to do would have been to ask one of them whether they were indeed from Notre Dame and introduced myself as a Georgetown student, but the usual Colleen introvert won, and I didn’t say anything.
I was in the back row of the plane next to a Spanish guy who was maybe 30 years old. He was very attractive. I didn’t really say a word to him the entire flight. More on this later.
Dinner was served, the first time I’d had airline food in like, 12 years, aka probably the first time I flew on an airplane. There was this beef stew that seemed alright, some tuna salad I did not touch, and some surprisingly delicious strawberry cheesecake (if that passes as airline pastry I can’t wait to eat freshly baked Spanish pastries!). As a college student, I never turn down a free cup of coffee. It was cute to see the flight attendants walking around with silver pots asking if we wanted café or té.
An hour later, the flight is watching Nim’s Island, a film that inconveniently features rocking boats and stormy waters. Why was this inconvenient? Turbulence over the Atlantic. Motion sickness. Hello, stew, cake, and coffee. Poor guy sitting next to me.
Did you also know that when you press the button to call for the flight attendant that chicken shit happens? After a few minutes of holding a very full barf bag, I went to the back of the plane. They just told me to throw it out in his bathroom. Classy.
I walk back to my seat in time to watch the happy sunny conclusion of the film. As always, Beautiful Day was playing.
At this point, the seatbelt sign is turned on and guy next to me is fidgeting around. Turns out I’ve been using part of his seat belt. Further shame.
The next film is Spanish, Cobardes, but for some reason I was watching it dubbed in Spanish. The bully character looked a lot like my brother four years or so ago from certain angles.
At this point, I’m feeling better and decide to sleep. Ten minutes later, the flight attendants turn the lights on and start serving breakfast.
I took my medication, and I’m supposed to wait at least half an hour before eating. I made it 25 before wolfing down a croissant. Probably kills the effect of the medication. Oh well. At this point, I was still tasting the beef stew.
Some ear pain on the landing. I was glad to be on solid ground. But I guess the pain of a transatlantic flight is worth it J
We landed in this extremely remote terminal of Madrid-Barajas. It was very strange. The terminal was huge, but we didn’t see…anyone or anything. No seats for waiting. No shops. No Starbucks. Much as you hate the crowds at good old O’Hare and Reagan, at least there is some sense of shared pain.
At customs, I couldn’t for the life of me understand what the agent was saying…and he was talking in English. He was asking me where I was studying in Spain and ended up miming out “study.”
Note: I was repping the campaign on my flight and my first day in Madrid, wearing my Obama ’08 shirt. I got a lot of love. The U.S. Customs Agent in Chicago asked me if I was a campaign employee. I wish.
We then proceeded to take a shuttle all the way back to the main terminals to get our luggage. We then tried to take a taxi to the hotel, but this was problematic.
In Madrid, small, fuel-efficient taxis are the rage. My family needed three adults and four large suitcases transported, and that was not going to happen in a standard Spanish taxi. After a lot of miscommunication between two employees, we were schlepped off to a shuttle stand. As it turned out, this was not too bad because it was not that much more expensive than a taxi (and we would have needed two) and we got our own little microbus.
The only thing was that my mom especially was getting pretty flustered, and I think that the language barrier added to that. I wonder how they would have made out if I hadn’t been there.
The shuttle driver did not seem to be in the mood for chatter on the ride to the hotel, and this was just as well because I was too busy drinking in all of the sights.
We checked in and tried to fight off the inevitability of jet lag. My mother was not very successful, but this enabled my and my dad to go for a nice little stroll around the neighborhood. We went back to the room and I too nodded off, but only really for an hour, which was impressive since I didn’t sleep on the plane and was too anxious (always happens before the first day of school, etc.) to sleep the night before.
At this point, it was about lunch time, and we ended up eating at a cafeteria in the Corte Inglés, this huge department store in Spain. It’s like Macy’s, except waaaay bigger. We meandered around the neighborhood a bit (we’re right by Bernabeu Stadium, where Madrid Real plays), but other than that didn’t do much sightseeing. Tomorrow I want to go to the Palacio Real and then hang out in some of the fabulous plazas. The Prado is really the crown jewel to see in Madrid, but my parents will be there on Sunday for their tour and I will be there mucho, as the one class I really hope to take is Spanish Painting in the Prado (weekly field trip!).
I’m still very dizzy. There is still so much to take in. At times today I’ve been completely overwhelmed and other times completely charmed. My Spanish is, as I suspected, not up to speed, but I imagine it will get there. The one thing I am worried about is how fabulously fashionable Spanish women are! I felt a bit dowdy today. Maybe I’ll come back from Spain fabulously sophisticated and European.
Well, believe it or not, I am finally in Spain! To date my only international travels had been a road trip to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls and then Toronto, which is about as American you can get and not be in the States.
I was ready to leave well before yesterday. My parents, who accompanied me on the flight and are leaving for a tour of Spain on Saturday were not ready. It came down to the wire.
I think every suitcase was slightly overweight over the 23 kg limit, but none weighed more than 24 kg so the agent did not charge us. Score. One of my two suitcases was selected for the random TSA screening. It was funny because I was waiting in the world’s longest security line and saw them pull my bag.
We flew on Iberia, which has direct daily flights from O’Hare (ORD) to Madrid (MAD), which was nice. The flight was about eight hours, which wasn’t too bad although previously the longest flight I had been on was from Midway to Oakland, which was definitely a lot less than that.
In the terminal, we saw the Notre Dame program waiting, and they were all on our flight. As many of you know, I was pretty much bred to attend the University of Notre Dame and still have some regrets about not going there. It was kind of a sting because there were probably almost thirty of them and they were all flying together and seemed very friendly. There will be a grand total of seven students from Georgetown in Madrid this semester, and I pretty much don’t know them at all. The normal thing to do would have been to ask one of them whether they were indeed from Notre Dame and introduced myself as a Georgetown student, but the usual Colleen introvert won, and I didn’t say anything.
I was in the back row of the plane next to a Spanish guy who was maybe 30 years old. He was very attractive. I didn’t really say a word to him the entire flight. More on this later.
Dinner was served, the first time I’d had airline food in like, 12 years, aka probably the first time I flew on an airplane. There was this beef stew that seemed alright, some tuna salad I did not touch, and some surprisingly delicious strawberry cheesecake (if that passes as airline pastry I can’t wait to eat freshly baked Spanish pastries!). As a college student, I never turn down a free cup of coffee. It was cute to see the flight attendants walking around with silver pots asking if we wanted café or té.
An hour later, the flight is watching Nim’s Island, a film that inconveniently features rocking boats and stormy waters. Why was this inconvenient? Turbulence over the Atlantic. Motion sickness. Hello, stew, cake, and coffee. Poor guy sitting next to me.
Did you also know that when you press the button to call for the flight attendant that chicken shit happens? After a few minutes of holding a very full barf bag, I went to the back of the plane. They just told me to throw it out in his bathroom. Classy.
I walk back to my seat in time to watch the happy sunny conclusion of the film. As always, Beautiful Day was playing.
At this point, the seatbelt sign is turned on and guy next to me is fidgeting around. Turns out I’ve been using part of his seat belt. Further shame.
The next film is Spanish, Cobardes, but for some reason I was watching it dubbed in Spanish. The bully character looked a lot like my brother four years or so ago from certain angles.
At this point, I’m feeling better and decide to sleep. Ten minutes later, the flight attendants turn the lights on and start serving breakfast.
I took my medication, and I’m supposed to wait at least half an hour before eating. I made it 25 before wolfing down a croissant. Probably kills the effect of the medication. Oh well. At this point, I was still tasting the beef stew.
Some ear pain on the landing. I was glad to be on solid ground. But I guess the pain of a transatlantic flight is worth it J
We landed in this extremely remote terminal of Madrid-Barajas. It was very strange. The terminal was huge, but we didn’t see…anyone or anything. No seats for waiting. No shops. No Starbucks. Much as you hate the crowds at good old O’Hare and Reagan, at least there is some sense of shared pain.
At customs, I couldn’t for the life of me understand what the agent was saying…and he was talking in English. He was asking me where I was studying in Spain and ended up miming out “study.”
Note: I was repping the campaign on my flight and my first day in Madrid, wearing my Obama ’08 shirt. I got a lot of love. The U.S. Customs Agent in Chicago asked me if I was a campaign employee. I wish.
We then proceeded to take a shuttle all the way back to the main terminals to get our luggage. We then tried to take a taxi to the hotel, but this was problematic.
In Madrid, small, fuel-efficient taxis are the rage. My family needed three adults and four large suitcases transported, and that was not going to happen in a standard Spanish taxi. After a lot of miscommunication between two employees, we were schlepped off to a shuttle stand. As it turned out, this was not too bad because it was not that much more expensive than a taxi (and we would have needed two) and we got our own little microbus.
The only thing was that my mom especially was getting pretty flustered, and I think that the language barrier added to that. I wonder how they would have made out if I hadn’t been there.
The shuttle driver did not seem to be in the mood for chatter on the ride to the hotel, and this was just as well because I was too busy drinking in all of the sights.
We checked in and tried to fight off the inevitability of jet lag. My mother was not very successful, but this enabled my and my dad to go for a nice little stroll around the neighborhood. We went back to the room and I too nodded off, but only really for an hour, which was impressive since I didn’t sleep on the plane and was too anxious (always happens before the first day of school, etc.) to sleep the night before.
At this point, it was about lunch time, and we ended up eating at a cafeteria in the Corte Inglés, this huge department store in Spain. It’s like Macy’s, except waaaay bigger. We meandered around the neighborhood a bit (we’re right by Bernabeu Stadium, where Madrid Real plays), but other than that didn’t do much sightseeing. Tomorrow I want to go to the Palacio Real and then hang out in some of the fabulous plazas. The Prado is really the crown jewel to see in Madrid, but my parents will be there on Sunday for their tour and I will be there mucho, as the one class I really hope to take is Spanish Painting in the Prado (weekly field trip!).
I’m still very dizzy. There is still so much to take in. At times today I’ve been completely overwhelmed and other times completely charmed. My Spanish is, as I suspected, not up to speed, but I imagine it will get there. The one thing I am worried about is how fabulously fashionable Spanish women are! I felt a bit dowdy today. Maybe I’ll come back from Spain fabulously sophisticated and European.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Leaving soon!
This time tomorrow, I will be somewhere over the Eastern seaboard en route to Madrid. I am very nervous right now. Excited, but nervous. I'm pretty much packed, but I'm sure I've forgotten all kinds of stuff. My parents are flying over with me, but I almost think that makes me more nervous, because it gives me more stress to deal with. I'm also worried about my Spanish, but I'm sure I'll get up to speed pretty quickly.
Hasta luego, amigos!
Hasta luego, amigos!
Monday, September 8, 2008
Musings on Sarah Palin
I leave for Madrid on Wednesday!! I'm pretty much packed and a ball of very nervous energy. I'm excited, of course, but still very nervous.
I've had a lot of time for the past five weeks or so to re-immerse myself in fanatically following the presidential election. I remember the extreme sinking feeling I felt at the beginning of freshman year when I realized junior year in Spain would conflict with the first presidential election for which I am of legal voting age. I considered only going abroad for the spring semester so I could be in Washington, DC for the election, but in terms of major life events, there will be many more elections, and I can still follow this one from Madrid.
The national political ascendancy of Alaska Governor Sarah Palin has me slightly reconsidering that decision.
Why do I hate Sarah Palin so very much? Long story.
I was raised a Roman Catholic Democrat, and in my family the political aspect of that culture is just as, if not more, important than the religious aspect. My father is not religious. My mother almost walked us out of church in 2004 when the message of the homily was leaning towards "You are going to Hell if you support the pro-choice presidential candidate." My grandmother, may she rest in peace, had dementia and would repeat the same three anecdotes over and over again. One of them was about how she had been raised in a Democratic family. I guess you can call my family card-carrying blue dog Democrats.
I have been on the Obama bandwagon for as long as there has been a bandwagon. Like just about everyone else, I found out about Barack Obama in 2004 when he was running for the U.S. Senate. When he gave that amazing keynote speech at the 2004 convention (I'd have to say it still tops his 2008 convention acceptance speech), I beamed with pride at the next U.S. Senator from Illinois. Illinois politics (both parties) are an absolute mess. But I respect and admire both Senator Obama and Senator Dick Durbin (who is also a Hoya!).
Even as a freshman in the Senate, people began calling on Senator Obama to run for president. I do NOT like President Bush. My political awakening was during my freshman year of high school as the U.S. invaded Iraq, a war that Senator Obama and I both opposed from the start. The U.S. needed a serious change, and I saw Senator Obama as a leader with the potential to inspire the country and lead us into the 21st century. Sometimes I have difficulty telling people exactly why I so strongly support Senator Obama, but I tell them that I am 20 years old, so for my first presidential election I reserve the right to support a candidate simply for the way he speaks to my generation.
I would call myself a feminist. I never considered this a bad label until I got to college and came under fire from certain male individuals for these views. Some might have therefore expected to be on the Hillary Clinton bandwagon. My mother was one of those Baby Boomers who was a diehard Hillary supporter until the bitter end, seemingly simply because she was a female (we will return to my mother a little later). To me, however, feminism means not supporting a candidate solely because she is a woman, but rather treating her as a human being above all else and evaluating her on the strength of her ideas. To me, Senator Obama was the stronger of the candidates. However, I do have a lot of professional respect for Senator Clinton and would have supported her had she received the nomination. I even saw her end her campaign at the National Building Museum in Washington in June.
Last summer, I told people that I hoped John McCain won the Republican primary because he was the only Republican presidential candidate I could bear to live under. At the time, his campaign was in a shambles and I thought he had no reasonable chance of actually winning. I would later eat my words. While I am glad that there is no possibility of returning to the U.S. under a President Giuliani (his foreign policy was terrifying...he seemed to think all Muslims were part of a mythical post-modern force of evil out to get us; I loved Joe Biden's line about Rudy Giuliani using "a noun, a verb, and 9/11" in every sentence), McCain is a more difficult opponent for the Democrats (and somehow he wrapped up the nomination months before the Democrats settled things!).
Why is McCain a more difficult opponent? Because, historically, he has been more of a moderate in his Senate career. You can call him a "maverick" if you want, although I am not sure that the tendency to buck the advice of others and follow your gut feeling is necessarily a positive attribute in a president. His first presidential decision, that of selecting a running mate, seems to have been made on a whim after realizing that as a moderate it would be political suicide to select someone such as Joe Lieberman (TRAITORTRAITORTRAITOR).
When Obama announced his choice of a running mate, I felt nothing. The addition of Joe Biden did not influence me positively or negatively.
When McCain announced his choice of a running mate, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. When a press release on his campaign's website confirmed that Sarah Palin was in fact John McCain's choice of running mate, I was flabbergasted. It felt like such a cheap shot for the votes of heartbroken Hillary supporters such as my mother. I rushed out to see a bargain matinee of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 because I needed to have a positive female moment.
The effect of the movie did not last long enough. In my mind, Obama's speech (not as good as 2004 but still mesmerizing) and the entire convention became an afterthought. On that end, John McCain succeeded, I guess.
The moment of truth for me on the day Sarah Palin was announced as John McCain's choice was a phone call with my mother. She had not shown an ounce of support for Obama and was threatening not to vote. On the phone, she announced that she was highly insulted by McCain and was now fully on board the Obama campaign. What a relief.
That evening I saw an encore of Sarah Palin's Ohio speech. She didn't seem that likable to me, but I can see why people find her engaging. She is young and engaging (and some people like what they see as the whole sexy librarian angle).
She energized the base. She is extremely pro-life, allowing absolutely no exceptions, apparently going so far last year as to tell the press that even if her own daughter (then 16) was raped she would expect her to carry the child to term. Religion is very important to her.
I am pro-choice. Raised Catholic, this position has put me very much at odds with church orthodoxy, leading me to all but leave the church. Do I think abortion is a good thing? No. Could I probably ever have an abortion myself? Probably not, although I have never been in the extreme circumstances where most pro-lifers see the merit of exceptions. But I don't think the government can interfere with a woman's right to choose, especially when that interference is religiously motivated. Not every woman is ready to be a mother, and I think every child should have a mother who is ready to care for him or her. While adoption is an excellent option for many women, the fact remains that there are still too many children already on this earth in desperate need of care. Abortions are going to happen anyway, as this has been a fact of life for all of human civilization, so I think women should have access to safe and legal procedures. My views can be summed up in the following statement: "Abortion should be safe, legal, and rare."
Issues such as abortion, while they may have energized the base for President Bush, are not at the forefront of a president's agenda. However, such social issues do come into play when nominating Supreme Court justices. I am no legal scholar (yet, anyway), but I understand that the Roe v. Wade decision is on shaky legal turf, so the appointment of the next justices is vital to the preservation of choice. I was horrified when I heard Mitt Romney state in his speech at the convention last week that the current Supreme Court is too liberal. EXCUSE ME?!?!?! The good news is that his speech seems to indicate a lack of faith in the McCain-Palin ticket and posturing for 2012 to bring the party back to the base (flip flopper, by the way).
While the convention was on hold in St. Paul (which I thought was an extreme overreaction) as Gustav headed for the Gulf Coast, Hurricane Bristol hit. The story that 17-year-old Bristol Palin is five months pregnant evidently emerged because bloggers apparently very unkindly alleged that four-month-old Trig was Bristol's son, not Sarah's. What a relief to have to story disproved by the revelation that is impossible because she got pregnant while he was in her mother's womb. I think it's pretty sad that candidates' families' personal lives get shoved to the forefront. We should be focusing on the issues (although I haven't found an issue position of Palin's that I agree with...). Senator Obama handled this situation very gracefully, reminding the media that he was born to a teen mother.
As a feminist, I full support women's ability to balance motherhood and career. Palin seems to have managed quite well as governor of Alaska (although vice president is quite a different position). On a personal note, though, I have to wonder why she would accept the position knowing that her teenage daughter was pregnant. People were going to notice, even if Bristol was hidden away. Instead of being handled quietly, Bristol Palin's situation became front page news (although to me it looked like she and Levi Johnston enjoyed their moment as a pseudo-Hollywood glamour couple at the convention?). I'm not sure I could do that to a daughter.
I'd like to take a nanosecond of your time to gloat about how abstinence-only sex education does not work. Out of my system now.
Sarah Palin, in my humble opinion, is not qualified to be vice president, especially not vice president to an old man who suffered unspeakable horrors as a POW and has battled cancer.
You can argue that Barack Obama is not qualified to be president. Their careers in elected office have been roughly the same length, as I understand it. He spent eight years in the Illinois State Senate and four years in the U.S. Senate. She spent hers as the mayor of Wasilla and the governor of Alaska. His resume may be thin, but for the past four years he has been subject to extreme scrutiny. Being the mayor of Wasilla may be executive experience, which Senator Obama is admittedly lacking, but it is a SMALL TOWN. I have never lived in a small town. My current hometown, Western Springs, is what I consider a "tiny suburb of Chicago." I think we have about 12,000 people. It is hard for me to imagine being in an isolated place with even less people than that. The entire state of Alaska has less people than Lake County, a collar county of suburbs around Chicago. I'm not saying that she has been a bad governor in her almost two years (although a more careful look at her record would probably damn her in my eyes) have been unsuccessful. She has just been completely out of the national spotlight, even the realm of national policy. She admittedly knows nothing about the war in Iraq...or what the vice president even does.
She also has been devastatingly misrepresenting her own record. When she talks I just can't believe a thing she says. She portrays herself as a reformer, but her sense of the facts are obscured. She initially supported the Bridge to Nowhere. She has requested billions of dollars worth of earmarks for the state of Alaska despite the fact that they are filthy rich from oil production. I also just don't like her tone. Community organizers serve a vital role in downtrodden communities. Obama has been involved in reform legislation, thank you very much.
I guess I'm pleased that McCain has surrendered the experience argument, although I am now worried because the base does not see through Sarah Palin. They adore her.
Energy policy is probably the area of domestic policy that is most interesting to me. I am very concerned with how our country will face the challenges of balancing concerns of national security with environmental protections. Sarah Palin does not seem to care for the environment, despite being an avid outdoorswoman. She would drill offshore in an instant, and will likely convince McCain to change his mind on the issue. So much for protection ANWR from harvesting oil that is literally a drop in the bucket.
I welcome the opportunity to get to know Sarah Palin better, as hopefully she will be exposed to the world as the transparent inexperienced right-wing nut job I already see. She, the McCain campaign, and the Republican establishment have been criticizing the media for asking questions about her and looking into her background (she obviously is not yet ready for solo interviews), which she should know from graduating from j school, that's kind of the media's job. We need to know more about Sarah Palin. Frightening as the truth may be.
I'm not sure that the line of argument in this rant has been coherent, but I just don't trust Sarah Palin to lead this country.
I've had a lot of time for the past five weeks or so to re-immerse myself in fanatically following the presidential election. I remember the extreme sinking feeling I felt at the beginning of freshman year when I realized junior year in Spain would conflict with the first presidential election for which I am of legal voting age. I considered only going abroad for the spring semester so I could be in Washington, DC for the election, but in terms of major life events, there will be many more elections, and I can still follow this one from Madrid.
The national political ascendancy of Alaska Governor Sarah Palin has me slightly reconsidering that decision.
Why do I hate Sarah Palin so very much? Long story.
I was raised a Roman Catholic Democrat, and in my family the political aspect of that culture is just as, if not more, important than the religious aspect. My father is not religious. My mother almost walked us out of church in 2004 when the message of the homily was leaning towards "You are going to Hell if you support the pro-choice presidential candidate." My grandmother, may she rest in peace, had dementia and would repeat the same three anecdotes over and over again. One of them was about how she had been raised in a Democratic family. I guess you can call my family card-carrying blue dog Democrats.
I have been on the Obama bandwagon for as long as there has been a bandwagon. Like just about everyone else, I found out about Barack Obama in 2004 when he was running for the U.S. Senate. When he gave that amazing keynote speech at the 2004 convention (I'd have to say it still tops his 2008 convention acceptance speech), I beamed with pride at the next U.S. Senator from Illinois. Illinois politics (both parties) are an absolute mess. But I respect and admire both Senator Obama and Senator Dick Durbin (who is also a Hoya!).
Even as a freshman in the Senate, people began calling on Senator Obama to run for president. I do NOT like President Bush. My political awakening was during my freshman year of high school as the U.S. invaded Iraq, a war that Senator Obama and I both opposed from the start. The U.S. needed a serious change, and I saw Senator Obama as a leader with the potential to inspire the country and lead us into the 21st century. Sometimes I have difficulty telling people exactly why I so strongly support Senator Obama, but I tell them that I am 20 years old, so for my first presidential election I reserve the right to support a candidate simply for the way he speaks to my generation.
I would call myself a feminist. I never considered this a bad label until I got to college and came under fire from certain male individuals for these views. Some might have therefore expected to be on the Hillary Clinton bandwagon. My mother was one of those Baby Boomers who was a diehard Hillary supporter until the bitter end, seemingly simply because she was a female (we will return to my mother a little later). To me, however, feminism means not supporting a candidate solely because she is a woman, but rather treating her as a human being above all else and evaluating her on the strength of her ideas. To me, Senator Obama was the stronger of the candidates. However, I do have a lot of professional respect for Senator Clinton and would have supported her had she received the nomination. I even saw her end her campaign at the National Building Museum in Washington in June.
Last summer, I told people that I hoped John McCain won the Republican primary because he was the only Republican presidential candidate I could bear to live under. At the time, his campaign was in a shambles and I thought he had no reasonable chance of actually winning. I would later eat my words. While I am glad that there is no possibility of returning to the U.S. under a President Giuliani (his foreign policy was terrifying...he seemed to think all Muslims were part of a mythical post-modern force of evil out to get us; I loved Joe Biden's line about Rudy Giuliani using "a noun, a verb, and 9/11" in every sentence), McCain is a more difficult opponent for the Democrats (and somehow he wrapped up the nomination months before the Democrats settled things!).
Why is McCain a more difficult opponent? Because, historically, he has been more of a moderate in his Senate career. You can call him a "maverick" if you want, although I am not sure that the tendency to buck the advice of others and follow your gut feeling is necessarily a positive attribute in a president. His first presidential decision, that of selecting a running mate, seems to have been made on a whim after realizing that as a moderate it would be political suicide to select someone such as Joe Lieberman (TRAITORTRAITORTRAITOR).
When Obama announced his choice of a running mate, I felt nothing. The addition of Joe Biden did not influence me positively or negatively.
When McCain announced his choice of a running mate, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. When a press release on his campaign's website confirmed that Sarah Palin was in fact John McCain's choice of running mate, I was flabbergasted. It felt like such a cheap shot for the votes of heartbroken Hillary supporters such as my mother. I rushed out to see a bargain matinee of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 because I needed to have a positive female moment.
The effect of the movie did not last long enough. In my mind, Obama's speech (not as good as 2004 but still mesmerizing) and the entire convention became an afterthought. On that end, John McCain succeeded, I guess.
The moment of truth for me on the day Sarah Palin was announced as John McCain's choice was a phone call with my mother. She had not shown an ounce of support for Obama and was threatening not to vote. On the phone, she announced that she was highly insulted by McCain and was now fully on board the Obama campaign. What a relief.
That evening I saw an encore of Sarah Palin's Ohio speech. She didn't seem that likable to me, but I can see why people find her engaging. She is young and engaging (and some people like what they see as the whole sexy librarian angle).
She energized the base. She is extremely pro-life, allowing absolutely no exceptions, apparently going so far last year as to tell the press that even if her own daughter (then 16) was raped she would expect her to carry the child to term. Religion is very important to her.
I am pro-choice. Raised Catholic, this position has put me very much at odds with church orthodoxy, leading me to all but leave the church. Do I think abortion is a good thing? No. Could I probably ever have an abortion myself? Probably not, although I have never been in the extreme circumstances where most pro-lifers see the merit of exceptions. But I don't think the government can interfere with a woman's right to choose, especially when that interference is religiously motivated. Not every woman is ready to be a mother, and I think every child should have a mother who is ready to care for him or her. While adoption is an excellent option for many women, the fact remains that there are still too many children already on this earth in desperate need of care. Abortions are going to happen anyway, as this has been a fact of life for all of human civilization, so I think women should have access to safe and legal procedures. My views can be summed up in the following statement: "Abortion should be safe, legal, and rare."
Issues such as abortion, while they may have energized the base for President Bush, are not at the forefront of a president's agenda. However, such social issues do come into play when nominating Supreme Court justices. I am no legal scholar (yet, anyway), but I understand that the Roe v. Wade decision is on shaky legal turf, so the appointment of the next justices is vital to the preservation of choice. I was horrified when I heard Mitt Romney state in his speech at the convention last week that the current Supreme Court is too liberal. EXCUSE ME?!?!?! The good news is that his speech seems to indicate a lack of faith in the McCain-Palin ticket and posturing for 2012 to bring the party back to the base (flip flopper, by the way).
While the convention was on hold in St. Paul (which I thought was an extreme overreaction) as Gustav headed for the Gulf Coast, Hurricane Bristol hit. The story that 17-year-old Bristol Palin is five months pregnant evidently emerged because bloggers apparently very unkindly alleged that four-month-old Trig was Bristol's son, not Sarah's. What a relief to have to story disproved by the revelation that is impossible because she got pregnant while he was in her mother's womb. I think it's pretty sad that candidates' families' personal lives get shoved to the forefront. We should be focusing on the issues (although I haven't found an issue position of Palin's that I agree with...). Senator Obama handled this situation very gracefully, reminding the media that he was born to a teen mother.
As a feminist, I full support women's ability to balance motherhood and career. Palin seems to have managed quite well as governor of Alaska (although vice president is quite a different position). On a personal note, though, I have to wonder why she would accept the position knowing that her teenage daughter was pregnant. People were going to notice, even if Bristol was hidden away. Instead of being handled quietly, Bristol Palin's situation became front page news (although to me it looked like she and Levi Johnston enjoyed their moment as a pseudo-Hollywood glamour couple at the convention?). I'm not sure I could do that to a daughter.
I'd like to take a nanosecond of your time to gloat about how abstinence-only sex education does not work. Out of my system now.
Sarah Palin, in my humble opinion, is not qualified to be vice president, especially not vice president to an old man who suffered unspeakable horrors as a POW and has battled cancer.
You can argue that Barack Obama is not qualified to be president. Their careers in elected office have been roughly the same length, as I understand it. He spent eight years in the Illinois State Senate and four years in the U.S. Senate. She spent hers as the mayor of Wasilla and the governor of Alaska. His resume may be thin, but for the past four years he has been subject to extreme scrutiny. Being the mayor of Wasilla may be executive experience, which Senator Obama is admittedly lacking, but it is a SMALL TOWN. I have never lived in a small town. My current hometown, Western Springs, is what I consider a "tiny suburb of Chicago." I think we have about 12,000 people. It is hard for me to imagine being in an isolated place with even less people than that. The entire state of Alaska has less people than Lake County, a collar county of suburbs around Chicago. I'm not saying that she has been a bad governor in her almost two years (although a more careful look at her record would probably damn her in my eyes) have been unsuccessful. She has just been completely out of the national spotlight, even the realm of national policy. She admittedly knows nothing about the war in Iraq...or what the vice president even does.
She also has been devastatingly misrepresenting her own record. When she talks I just can't believe a thing she says. She portrays herself as a reformer, but her sense of the facts are obscured. She initially supported the Bridge to Nowhere. She has requested billions of dollars worth of earmarks for the state of Alaska despite the fact that they are filthy rich from oil production. I also just don't like her tone. Community organizers serve a vital role in downtrodden communities. Obama has been involved in reform legislation, thank you very much.
I guess I'm pleased that McCain has surrendered the experience argument, although I am now worried because the base does not see through Sarah Palin. They adore her.
Energy policy is probably the area of domestic policy that is most interesting to me. I am very concerned with how our country will face the challenges of balancing concerns of national security with environmental protections. Sarah Palin does not seem to care for the environment, despite being an avid outdoorswoman. She would drill offshore in an instant, and will likely convince McCain to change his mind on the issue. So much for protection ANWR from harvesting oil that is literally a drop in the bucket.
I welcome the opportunity to get to know Sarah Palin better, as hopefully she will be exposed to the world as the transparent inexperienced right-wing nut job I already see. She, the McCain campaign, and the Republican establishment have been criticizing the media for asking questions about her and looking into her background (she obviously is not yet ready for solo interviews), which she should know from graduating from j school, that's kind of the media's job. We need to know more about Sarah Palin. Frightening as the truth may be.
I'm not sure that the line of argument in this rant has been coherent, but I just don't trust Sarah Palin to lead this country.
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