Why I Hate International Travel

by Liz Fies

Flew halfway around the world to go to freaking Santa Monica. I shit you not. I´ve basically been in Santa Monica the past week.

Guess where I´m supposed to be?

Atlanta for my connecting flight.

Guess where I am?

Effing Madrid.

Guess where my luggage is?

NO ONE KNOWS.

Eff Spain and their laxadazical time-telling, connecting flights that leave EARLY, and their directions that consist of ¨Just go out of the terminal and make a left and then a right¨ when what they mean is ¨RUN out of the terminal because you´re LATE because we lost your bags, make a left and RUN for 1 MILE, THEN make a right and GO DOWNSTAIRS.¨

Effers.

It´s a good thing I was a rock star in the discoteque or I´d be putting a voodoo curse on the whole lot of them right now. For some reason, I have INDESCRIBABLE GAME in Spain. Now infamous among villa-ites for attracting Spanish men. Kooky. Too bad I´m NEVER coming back.

I´m so effing tired I finally understand the movie ¨Lost in Translation.¨

The company was spectacular. Probably have never had that much fun in my life with such an amazing group of people. But you know what? It could have been anywhere. They were that totally awesome. So awesome they should be arrested.

Got laid...disapointing. And no second shot at it when he´d be more able; it was a onesie - never - happened - thing, forgotten instantaneosly. Then was alternately abused and ignored by Meathead Freakshow all week at the villa. I did not choose wisely. Got the recreational sex thing right, but forgot to add female orgasm and ¨dude doesn´t turn into a crampy PMSing woman¨ to the visualization list. If there were ever a case for ¨Why buy the bull(sh*t) when the sausage is free?¨ Finally ratted him out to the girls, and they banded together and gave him a little what for. Funny story. More on that later.

Found out I´ve been wearing the wrong bra size and that I´m actually a 34DD. How the hell did that happen, and maybe I should stop trying to diet away the thighs and just accept the god-given bounty?

Kissed a few random Spaniards, none of whom had game. Leered at one hot hot gardener all week. Made a new BFF.

And Liz doesn´t care anymore, because Liz just wants to come home.

Liz may permanently speak in the third person. And change her name to Jade.

Next time Liz is just going back to Hawaii.