¡ Yo estoy Aquí! Primera Parte

Well guess what, Ladies and Gentlemen! After MUCH ado, I have finally arrived in Madrid. My day was filled with firsts, especially since I've never been here before in my whole life.  I flew from Philly to Madrid, my first international flight. For the first time I saw the view like you see in the movies. There were lights everywhere, as far as I could see. 
There is no feeling like the awe that hits you, when you realize that you have really left your country. Like, you can see the actual border as you start to cross the ocean.

The flight was much shorter than I expected. I spent my time watching Sex and the City, Newsroom, Black Swan, and finally Moulin Rouge (I didn't get to finish it. Boo.) I was never really able to fall asleep. I nodded a few times, but the people constantly ringing for the flight attendants kept waking me up. After a while, I saw lights again, and realized that we had crossed the ocean safely.

Yeah, you can't see crap but I'm adding it anyway. That's how I roll.

Finally after what felt like for-EVER, we began to see signs of Madrid. I took a lot of pictures from the plane, but I'll only torture you with one:

 

Madrid letting its Soul Glo

 The view was incredible! I could see all these beautiful buildings, and I really wanted to take pictures of everything I could see in front of me. I also learned to use the 'video' function on my phone. Hahaha, just kidding I use that all the time!

                                        

            Then it was time to land! ALL-RIIIIIIGHTTTT!!

             (Yes, I recorded my damn landing, because I am a dorky dork who dorks. Jealous!?)


Dear Sweet Minty Jesus, can we please discuss why it takes eleventy million years to walk from the plane to the damn terminals (I'm looking at you too, Philly!)!? I had to dress like a decent human being for my international flight (flight attendant mom), so I wore my cute little snakeskin heels. Let me tell you, after two flights and endless walking, they weren't so fucking cute!! I was limping by the time I got to customs. :-(

I get to customs, get my passport stamped (for the first time, NBD!!!), and I'm off to the... rest of the airport. Yayyyy! Ugh, booooooo! Yeah, apparently there is a pattern with these international airports. It takes forever to get across the things! I really think the they should offer some kind of service. I mean, you needed a shuttle to get to the Airport Shuttle! I will admit: The FIRST thing I did after getting my baggage was to go outside, smoke a cigarette (you're not so perfect either), and PUT ON MY SNEAKERS!! OH GOD, THE RELIEF!! I also took a couple of pictures while sitting on the ground like a crazy person:

¡Hola, soy tourista!

Look honey, there are taxis and everything!

I went back inside to realize that: I was not done yet. Oh, no! I got through customs and baggage claim, but there was so much more airport to get through. There were eleventy million signs for the Metro, but the Metro never seemed to appear. After a while, you feel like the signs are mocking you. They were all like: "You're almost there! It's coming soon, we swear! No, seriously. Any minute now. Look at you, you're doing so well! Four for you, Glen Coco. You go, Glen Coco! Keep going!"

You know what's at the end? Cookies, son. Cookies.

These are not the cookies you seek.

So, after hobbling through the Jet-way of DOOOOOM (in heels), limping through the Airport That Doesn't End (I mean, I mean dear LORD, I thought I would NEVER make it to the Metro!),  I finally made it to the Metro, and learned something extremely important: Madrid Metro stations have a fuck ton of stairs! I mean y'all: they love the hell out of stairs. Seriously, what is the deal? Everywhere I went there were just long rows of stairs. Now, I'm not a lazy girl (okay, I'm kind of lazy), but when you add in the two huge suitcases I was carrying, my trip through the Metro started to feel like this:

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I swear, every time I saw stairs I wanted to cry. I was always grateful to see an escalator. Seriously. After two train transfers, I got to my station: Chueca. HALLLLLLLL-LELUJAH! HAAAAALELU-notsofastmorestairs. What. The. Fuuuuuuuuu- Y'all, I seriously had to drag my suitcases up and down flight after flight of stairs. In order to leave Chueca station, I had to drag them up at least three more flights of stairs. My arms were on fire, and I seriously wanted to cry, but I dragged those bastards all the way to the top. Then I promptly got lost. Yup, I misread the directions to my hostel and walked all over my neighborhood. I pretty much walked down every street but the one my hostel was on. Once I got back to Chueca station, I realized that all I had to do after the Everlasting Stairs was turn right and go straight. The hostel was two blocks up. I then felt the hand of GOD come down and write 'Moron' on my forehead. Womp woooooomp.

I got to the hostel an hour earlier than I planned, because I really thought it would take longer to get through customs. I mean, all this foolishness took three hours. Oh: not only was I an hour early, I was three hours early for check in (Oh, you rotten motherf....).
I could either hang around the hostel, or walk around my new home. I looked around the hostel for a bit, then gathered my courage and hit the streets of Madrid!

More to come, I am extremely tired and I'm sure you have read enough. Cheers!