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The Travel Diaries: Why Lizzie McGuire Sorta Sucks

Before I elaborate on why Lizzie McGuire may or may not have made enjoying this trip a little challenging, let me tell you what I’m up to this summer. I am an au pair in Gracia, a little barrio right outside Barcelona. So while this is an incredible experience, don’t be fooled—I’m not lounging on the beach all day, and having one big vacation; I’m working. I’ll admit it isn’t the most taxing job, because anyone that knows me knows how much I love kids, so being an au pair is basically the perfect job for me. But still, I’m up early every day to take care of two adorable little boys, and that can be tiring.

And now, onto the actual topic of this article:

10437128_10203462120168994_701622083_nI would like to blame Lizzie McGuire for making me subconsciously think that my trip isn’t going to be amazing unless I find my own Paolo to whisk me away to beautiful dress shops on a very chic scooter.

Okay, so I didn’t actually expect to be mistaken for a famous pop artist—anyone that has ever heard me try to sing knows that it would be very hard for me to pull off being a superstar—but I find myself just waiting for something incredible to happen to me. I keep having to remind myself that the only incredible thing that could happen without me taking action is if I were to get a really nice tan, and even that is a stretch. (Hello luminescent Irish skin…)

So my advice to anyone that decides to travel in the future? Make your own experience. Don’t say “Oh, that sounds cool” about something, then go back to looking through your Facebook newsfeed. Go do it. That’s what I’m trying to do. So far, I’ve actually done some pretty cool things, thanks to my inner voice’s constant nagging:

  • You know how you hear about these tiny little fish that eat all the dead skin on your feet? I went to one of those places. Weirdest feeling EVER. Great salon, though!
  • One of the most tourist-y places that Barcelona has to offer is Parc Guel. It’s incredible and beautiful, but don’t expect to snap many incredible photos while you’re there; it is teeming with tourists, and they always walk in front of your camera. Always.
  • And of course, La Rambla, a very long street that is the home of men that sell the weirdest sound-makers (I really don’t know what else to call them) and the most souvenir kiosks I have ever seen.

That’s all for now, but I hope to keep you guys updated on my inability to fit into a culture of beautifully tanned people with a few more of these travel diaries!


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