it's time for time

me these days.

after l.a., being back in barca was like quiet time.. well, not so quiet often too.. but i've just noticed that i am all about me right now. like i'm on some sort of rampage of making sure my ambition isn't hampered by stupid shit. shit, as in non-progressive, repetitive and un-lucrative shit. you know, it's a nothing's-getting-in-the-way type vibe i'm feeling about me lately. maybe jupiter and pluto joining capricorn these days has something to do with it.

also, back to the whole l.a. trip, i think i'm reacting to every separate detail of that trip now with my whole i-am-a-woman-rarr thing i'm acting out these days. it's a mix of re-connecting with the people i love out there, planning a wedding, the great weather, soaking in my culture, observing changes, finding out new things, great qualities from all the loved ones. so much love...

and then there's being on the other side of the pond too. aha. again, if i could live in two cities at once, it would be barca and l.a. it's as if these two cities are brother and sister.

so the last two months have been very reactive, me being reactive. like a fucking bomb. (smiling) i just gotta watch the thuggish ruggish attitude that i've been indulging with, reacting to all of the confusion. it's no good for the san b. heart. i get too worked up at times. to say the least.

they say that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. what's the way to a woman's? break it down for me someone.


ah, cava during lunch at the cerveseria catalana.
here's another thing, i've been enjoying a drink more often these days as well.

cerveseria catalana.

we're reviewing tapas bars. mackenzie at casa alfonso.

hotel maj/chanel front lit up for navidad.

ps de gracia. one thing that makes being here nice during the holidays is that it feels like christmas.
marketing with taste.


xmas shopping.

ducked the rain and saw the che exhibit.
the one photo took of homie by a leica m2 becomes the symbol of revolution.

britt and i somewhere in the barrio gotico.

la boqueria.

inger and charles at rosa negra.

mezcal at rosa negra.

ideas.

if you gave me a penny for every distraction i have, i'd be straight chilling right now. that's the question: how do i turn a distraction into money? the answer might well be to work with the distraction, no? or, get paid to be distracted? but isn't that the whole point of a distraction? to take you away from your focus? couldn't the distraction become the focus? wait, that's obsession.

focus.

i found this book at hennessey+ingalls by paul arden called, "it's not how good you are, it's how good you want to be." and it's basically become my handbag bible. i carry it around with me everywhere. and every once in a while during the day, i'll take it out, open to a random page, and read. it's totally helping my game in a huge way. today my fave excerpt of the book is:

do not covet your ideas... at work, people are secretive with ideas... the problem with hoarding is you end up living off your reserves. eventually you'll become stale. if you give away everything you have, you are left with nothing. this forces you to look, to be aware, to replenish. somehow the more you give away, the more comes back to you. ideas are open knowledge. don't claim ownership. they're not your ideas anyway, they're someone else's. they are out there floating by on the ether. you just have to put yourself in a frame of mind to pick them up.

i don't know what to call this.

so i'm digging through google to see what all the hype on ron paul is about, but for some reason, my instinct is telling me that that's all this guy is: hype. let's just put it this way, any dude who comes off first by saying shit like they're the voice for a "foreign policy of freedom;" that they've "stood alone for freedom for many years;" and that they're "a true defender of liberty" must think that i'm some idiot. i'm not buying it. sorry folks, you can try to school me on this dude, but this is what i'm telling you:

ron paul is the new all-over-print shirt.

how are my peers born & bred in l.a., city or suburb igual, trying to talk to me about being libertarian? i'm talking about being over the invasion of iraq and it's like, "oh you're a libertarian too?" hmmm, i'm just not sure that a lot of my peers who are waving the ron paul flag really get what's going on. it's like howard dean in '04.

hmmm... ok for real though, a will ferrell character or some c-list model/actor (but really porn star) comes to mind whenever i hear the name ron paul. i see the ron paul '08 bumper stickers and i'm thinking it's some joke like the spears/lohan '08 stuff.

honestly.

vanessa

breakfast at grey dog's.

no. sleep. til...

stretch.

i don't know when. columbus day? thanksgiving? whatever. they say that these are our peak years of not needing that much sleep. you know, when you're a baby you sleep like 18 hours a day; then when you get into your 20s-on, 6 hours is all good; and then when you're 80, you're back to sleeping about 18 hours a day. something like that.

besides that, i pretty much siesta'd the whole month of august. ah, the great thing about europe: august is pretty much when euros decide, "it's hot. eh, let's take the whole month off." that's what i'm talking about. so although i convinced my boss to let me work, it was definitely leisurely. plus, i convinced le mari to be a sport and drive us over to st. paul for a long weekend with the fam. pretty good stuff.

rest stop overlooking cannes (vinny chase!)

pancake brunch.

mala beach.

dinner at mala beach.

pizza cannibal: ground steak, onion, garlic, olives, herbs & an egg.

coming up on fireworks on the sea, courtesy of a private bday party next door.

okay, earth to mjane. the end of the month is creeping and it's back to getting schooled. there's never a dull moment at work, and as if planning an overseas event isn't enough, i've decided to purge my closet and sell some of my clothing on ebay. it's actually turning out to be a pretty good hustle!

but for real though, the thought in rotation is how to be at two places at once. have i already said this? i love l.a. and now, i love barcelona. this city is off the hook. i don't know how to describe it. it's taken me so long to get to this point, and frankly i'm surprised that i've reached it. my heart, 2 cities.

cava sangria.

i have no idea who they are, but we shared tapas one night after a dc photo exhibit.

flower market.

gran via.

barceloneta.

entrance to the "semana de méxico en barcelona" fiesta at pueblo español.

casa ramona at pueblo español.

a great way to kick off the festivities.

colors!

mariachis

comiendo.

kenzie and his mistress.

office daze

my office window
la pedrera, right across our showroom window
august in europe basically equals 31 days of fucking off. i'm not kidding. the post office closes at 1pm every day; consider yourself lucky if you even receive any mail. banks close come la tarde... local restaurants and shops close for the whole month. don't bust any domestic mechanisms as a plumber won't come til september... you get the picture.

but i can't complain. although i begged the boss to let me work this month, it's summer friday. meaning, every friday since the summer solstice the office closes at 2pm. and today, i'm completely alone as my esteemed colleagues go fuck off until the end of the month.

it's really funny living here. having grown up in cali, we're raised to be politically correct, not stereotype people (in public at least), blahblahblah. but here, stereotypes run wild! i've never heard so much passion behind some claims people make on others. spaniards are totally like this; of course, they're italian!; the term paki is thrown around freely; people are colors here like black and yellow... but what's really interesting is, there is never white. well, it's more like it's unknown out here. one time i tried to describe someone as, "you know, the white girl" and that was the one color no one knew who i was talking about. there are times when the n-word is thrown around me as a gesture of attempting to being down. and needless to say i've got a schpeel memorized explaining the complexities behind that term in america, so much so that i can't even spell it out in my own blog. woah, the cali girl in me winces a bit as i've been conditioned to find all of this babble charged with offense. but here, the best i can do is learn not to be uncomfy with it. observation and communication is key.

i just deleted a whole mess of instances where miscommunication here led to swinging fists or getting driven off the road because i don't want you to misunderstand my idea of europe. because really, the best anyone can do is learn through observation and dialogue. anywhere in this WORLD. god, that just sounded very cal-educated. so be it. at the end of the day, it's no sweat off my back if someone thinks i'm yellow (come on now, i'm brown!).

the thing is, i started writing this entry thinking about the negative stereotypes associated with hiphop or rap (for lack of a better term) music here - well, except in northern spots like holland or sweden. and it's kind of sad. it's hard to find a party where i can get my groove on here! the mainstream stereotype here of most drum-based music where word is spoken more than it's sung is that it's ghetto in the class-ist sense of the word. as in low-income, un-educated, and whatever else conservatively speaking. the other day i was listening to a jdilla mixed tape at work and one of my peers started mocking the song, going "yo, yo" and shit and said, "wow jane, i never thought of you as the type to listen to this." what type, exactly? eh, i just laughed.

how can i wrap this up? a few weeks ago, i was having a conversation with some friends about how americans really get the worst beating as far as stereotypes go here in europe (well actually, in america, too). and you know what, that shit is true. perfect example: kenz and i go watch the simpsons movie when it came out. the theater was packed. and everyone is laughing hysterically - it's fucking perfect, an american movie about the dumbest american alive: homer simspon. audience is laughing, laughing, laughing away. but there's one scene where the simpsons stop for gas after having escaped from the bubble. marge goes in the gas station and says something like, "i don't need lady razors, i'm european," and you hear "oohs" and hissing like that shit's offensive. i almost want to say that i was the only who laughed at that line. yeah it's so fucking funny laughing at the dumb american, but we can't say one, albeit irrelevant, euro joke. and there you have it.

"it's a celebration, bitches." !!!!!!!!!

lee-ness & mack at betty ford's
it's the team!
mamie denise, purple, & dead hippie
lucile y yo a mondo

still cookin

we're now about six weeks into summer, just enough time to settle into a steady wardrobe for this funky (leaves falling everywhere?!) season. it's all about looking light and flowy. and sexy, why not. i don't mind that everyone's still feeling the little-girl dress cuts that chloe brought back a couple of years ago, but it's getting a bit out-of-hand. some girls straight look like they're wearing a duster. you know, the kind of dresses that old ladies wear all day around their house? there's no form or shape. i guess, like muumuus? in tagalog we call them pangbahay. and i really don't get this scarf trend where i'm catching women pairing long, drabby-curtain scarves around their necks with tank tops. anyway, i'm not here to criticize anyone's sense of fashion. do your thing, but i'd have to say there are just some things you shouldn't wear in 90-degree weather. like heavy jewelry. or a lot of makeup for that matter. another thing that's not quite right is legal lohan being on the september cover of elle mag again. one of the quotes that huffingtonpost.com took from the article is: "I just want to be nominated for an award for all the work I've done. It's so funny - people forget that I played two characters in Parent Trap when I was twelve years old." okay, i'll stop there.

let's get back to not judging. i went to bread and butter in july to see if this would be the year that euro fashion surprises me. unfortunately...no. the higher-end fashion market didn't show anything mind-blowing, but at least they stayed in line with their rank by using fancy materials (cashmere and silk!) on classic cuts. one classic look i do love - and is a successful detail for a girls' night outfit - is décolletée: low-cut, sexy, yet very tasteful (no wonderbras allowed).

what else. denim is always cool. there are so many different denim brands that exist. but i love to observe jean brands because their marketing budgets seem to flow like honey.. i mean, aside from creating another wash or pocket design, jeans are jeans are jeans. so how do you compete? through branding and marketing. gap hit it in the 90s. today, it's a little harder as advertising has become more celebrity-hyped, e.g seven for all mankind, hudson. i don't know, really. but if you're in fashion marketing, denim seems like it would be a fun biz to get into.

where it really goes bad is in the younger markets. "streetwear." boy these brands are just riding this neon, all-over, bad-pucci-knock-off, ice-cream, and other hyphenated-word looks until the last dawn wiener of the world pairs a hundreds tee with yet another desperate re-issue shoe/unreasonable color-way.


"let's get back to not judging." ha ha. for real though. fashion, schmashion. it's fun. and you know i love it. it was good fun walking around, looking at people, and checking out the booths. i think i mentioned this when i wrote about going to b&b berlin, even though going to a fashion tradeshow in europe is just as typical as your asr or magic in america, a standard booth for a euro brand has to have a bar area installed in it, i.e. mini-fridge, beers & champagne. and a plus in the streetwear area is that a lot of the reps and retailers pass joints. no five-o breaking this party up.

i love

the opening scene of breakfast at tiffany's, fifth avenue at the break of dawn.

i love having the opportunity of being awake during the exact moment that the sun comes out of the ground. the color of the sky, the sound of complete silence...

real talk

i've been feeling a bit isolated lately living on the other side of the pond. i have a lot of thoughts about my life, observations about the world from over here, and just all kinds of things i'd like to talk about to anyone. but a difference in language makes it hard to just shoot the shit. you know what i mean, i feel like i'm always "on," needing to think about how i say what i want to say in a different language. it reminds me of the first time i ventured out to europe with nothing but a backpack. i traveled throughout the continent by myself (see photos) - and traveling through places that speak different languages and have different customs for the first time ever, alone (!), my journal was my only friend. and sometimes that wasn't enough to fulfill my natural desire for social contact. but as that only happened every other city meeting an english-speaking train traveler, sometimes i'd find myself talking to myself.





six years later, here i am sitting on a sofa in barcelona. e-mail, phone calls and text messages used to be the way i'd communicate how a friend and i would meet up to talk or drink or eat or chill. now e-mails and phone calls and texts have replaced the talks and chill sessions and are the only ways i keep up with the outside world.. friends.. fam..



what's hard about it is that i'm at this point where if i could be at two places at the same time, it would be now. i love living and working in barcelona. it's probably the most challenging experience i've ever decided to take on, moving here and learning all of these amazing lessons.. it's like my grad school, you know what i mean? unfortunately 99% of my support system resides in the states, and i'd give anything to have a face-to-face with them during the times i just need to re-connect, re-energize and bounce back. anyway, i guess the distance between loved ones and me is a big part of the reason why this experience is so challenging. if living here is like going to grad school, for any of you that are in or have graduated from grad school, imagine going to one out-of-state. with your best friend or spouse. and the two of you are taking all of the same classes and are partnered-up for every single group project. and you work at the same internship together. and of course, you are each other's roommates. okay, this is definitely the most challenging chapter of my life experience.



can i put this on a resume? ha ha.