and I'll search the world over for my angel in black

So I have no clue why the commenting appeared to be down for my last post, but since I am writing now from a pleasantly lit room in Spain, I have not really the motivation to delve into the inner workings of Haloscan and bumble my way through some blog-reengineering. Besides which, maybe no one is even reading anymore.

I want to write all of these things about Madrid, and even still Germany, and how much all of it has meant to me. All those words are there somewhere. But when I sit down to write a blogpost, the only thing that seems to want to come out is: dude, the teeniacs in Europe are just as insane as those everywhere else. Also, the mullet is big here. Not just the mullet, but this weird, I'm trying to grow a mohawk but my mom will kill me so instead I gel my hair all up the middle and grow a tail in the back hair-do that is inexplicable. But dude, the Spanish teeniac boys wearing that cut are very impressed with themselves, and it makes me giggle every time I see it.

Also, for those of you fashionistas (ha! Like a fashionista would be reading the blog of one of the least fashion-savvy people on the planet.) out there, apparently, glittery flats are a big deal. So, I might be walking down the street, and all of a sudden some very fashionable madrilena will approach, dressed in a very simple solid-colored shirt and very skinny jeans and bam! red-glittery flats. Red, blue, green, silver, gold, it's huge. Everyone seems on the verge of clicking their heels together to wish themselves home.

I noticed, also, that buying shoes is like a part-time job for most Spanish women in Madrid. But what I found fascinating is that I did not see an overabundance of painful shoes out there- you know, not a ton of four-inch heels or stilettos or anything like that. Even though the shoes all appeared super-fashionable, a lot of them were also really comfortable. For that alone, I could love Madrid forever. But of course, there is a lot lot more. For another time.

It should be noted that I am being purely facetious about this week's song. I used to love calling people Eurotrash when I was in college as a put-down, but between seeing the other side of yuppydom and spending time among more Europeans, I'm starting to feel like Eurotrash is actually a compliment. Though people could ease up on the amount of cologne. I'm just saying.