Showing posts with label zombies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label zombies. Show all posts

19/12/2009

Cosmopolitans, belly laughs and 'Pride and Prejudice and Zombies'


Hardly a week goes by when I don’t reflect on how lucky I am to have the friends I do. When you’re away from home your mates become your family. They make all the difference as to whether you feel settled or not. Because even if you’re in the most fun city in the world, what good is it when you have no one to have fun with?

When I left Barcelona to start my new life with the bloke in Madrid I found myself in the strange position of being Billy no mates. By the time I got myself sorted with a job a few weeks later I was feeling pretty desperate.

So there I was on my induction day at a language academy, in a room full of strangers. A fierce frizzy haired woman was telling us how “you are not here to become friends with your students – they need homework and proper lessons”. Then one of the other directors chips in: “Yes, and if you’re new to Spain don’t worry, just tell them you’ve been teaching in Barcelona before – they’ll never know.”

Just when I was thinking to myself ‘what a bunch of cock knockers’, a girl put her hand up and said: “Er, excuse me, I don’t feel comfortable lying. They’ll know I haven’t been living in Barcelona, ‘cos I don’t speak the language. I’ll look like a total idiot if they speak to me in Spanish and I don't know what they're on about.” I thought, 'I don’t know who she is, but I want to be that girl’s friend.'

That was my mate Two Shandies and thank god I got her number that day. She introduced me to Sa and PB and the rest of the group who now comprise my Madrid family.

Tuesday is always the day reserved for us. Boyfriends or potential dates have to make their own plans while we meet up for ‘Tuesday Club’. And whether it’s in a bar or round someone’s house, there’s one factor that’s constant, and that’s the laughs we have.

This week was no different. Two Shandies had us round to her gaff and mixed up some eye-wateringly strong cosmopolitans. She was updating us on the status of her new internet dating squeeze, Mr Fit.

He is literally too good to be true. Fit, intelligent, interesting, kind, complimentary, and the size of a bear (essential in Two Shandies’ book) The only potential problem is that he is a helicopter pilot and has to go to Afghanistan in February.

Well they spent about six hours chatting on messenger over the weekend, and at one point PB, who lives upstairs, came down to see what was going on. Just as she got in Mr Fit commented on Shandies’ profile photo, in which PB also appears.

“That woman in the red top in your photo…” writes Mr Fit. So Two Shandies nudges PB and says: “He’s talking about you!” There’s a bit of a tense moment. What’s he going to say? They both look at each other and turn back to the screen to see his next message…

“Is that your mum?”

Ha ha ha ha, oh dear.

We'd just about finished wetting ourselves about that when Two Shandies mentioned her favourite film, Room With A View. (Shandies loves all that period drama/romance guff)

So I started trying to tell her that there’s a big screen version of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies in the works (starring Natalie Portman in case you're interested) – it might just be Shandies' chance to get into horror films?

Shandies: “But I don’t understand how that would work. Is Mr Bennet a zombie? What are zombies ayway?”

Sa: “You must have seen that famous zombie film, Night of the Living Dead?”

Shandies: No, but I’ve seen Life on Mars.”

Sa: “What, the series where his a policeman and he goes back in time?”

Shandies: “Oops no, I mean Mars Attacks. The one with the aliens. Are they like zombies?”

Me: “No! Zombies are sort of undead beings, living corpses.”

Shandies: “Oh right, Ah, like in the Thriller video. Surely they didn’t exist back then. They’re a modern thing aren’t they?”

Me: “But they’d be like Victorian zombies.”

Shandies: “What, in period costume? Would they be wearing bonnets?”

Me: “Yes they would, sounds bout right. So would you like to see that then, do you reckon?”

Shandies: “I’m not sure. I’m just trying to imagine a cross between Thriller and Pride and Prejudice and I can’t quite do it.”

Brilliant. That little exchange sums up how different we all are, our group of amigos. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I just hope they don’t all decide to go back to England, or I don’t know what I’ll do.

18/11/2009

Things you forget

Some things you really miss about living in England - like Sunday dinners, white wine spritzers, salt 'n vinegar discos - and some things you don't. Rain, cold and darkness closing in at 4.30pm are a few examples.

But there are some things you just completely forget existed. Or so I deduced this month when bonfire night came round. Remember, remember the 5th of November… or not – I totally wiped it from the hard drive. In fact I haven't thought about it for years.

Of course, they don't celebrate it here in Spain. So to kill time in the morning meeting before everyone else arrived, I decided to tell a colleague about it.

Me: Well basically there was a guy called Guy Fawkes and he tried to blow up the houses of parliament on November 5th, 16 something. But he failed. And to celebrate it every year people Britain light fires and let off fireworks and eat apples covered in toffee, and potatoes.

Him: That sounds like fun.

Me: Yes, and you also make your own Guy out of old clothes stuffed with newspapers, and you take him round your neighbourhood in a shopping trolley, and you get people to give you money. Then you burn him on the bonfire at the end of the night.

Him: British people are quite strange.

And I suppose it does sound weird. Burning effigies of some guy (literally) who tried, and failed to burn the government and the king alive. It's quite morbid.
They say horror films and computer games are twisting kids' minds nowadays, but I reckon the story behind bonfire night is more disturbing.

Anyway, they've got their own quirky festivos in Spain. La Tomatina for example – where everyone gets leathered on sangria and pelts each other with tomatoes (silly). Or Pamplona – where everyone gets leathered on sangria all night and runs with the bulls at eight in the morning (dangerous).

I've never done either, and in fact I don't think I'd cope too well with the tomato pelting. It looks a bit too violent. But Pamplona is deffo on my to do list. Though I'd like to get a hotel room there and actually go to bed at some point. Not like my bloke, who went by bus from Barcelona with only the clothes on his back (which, by the way was only a shorts and t-shirt combo)

And I'd be watching the bulls rather than running with them. I find sparklers scary enough. Being chased down the street by 2000lbs of wild angry beast is a marathon step too far.