Where we going... Barcelona..

OK..the meth business is really cooking this year, which means we can fund another trip.  This time, it's a Mediterranean cruise and I already have a ton to say.  We just arrived in the hotel..3:00 their time, (9:00 EST.)The adventure started yesterday, when an airport rep gave us the VIP treatment that allowed us to keep our shoes on and speed through check in.  He asked:  Do you have a pacemaker?" and I replied, "ask me that question on the return trip..my answer will be different."  We decided to eat at the airport to avoid eating the on board meal that would be served in a matchbox, (Which we ate anyway) This might sound very 1984 of me, but OMG, what is happening in restaurants?  There were no menus..just computerized keyboards!There was no way to tell the computer I wanted my Diet Coke lemon-free.  Computers don't get me and my special needs.  And speaking of them, I'm not sure how much extra we paid for those wonderful airline seats or what those seats were even called, but they were so comfortable.  Jim and I even sang a lullaby to one another..a song we've been singing since the Emmys..that hauntingly beautiful theme from "TRANSparent." So it's like..I don't know. midnight and dark and everyone's sleeping, and all of a sudden I hear the call bell and the lights go on.  The flight attendant makes an announcement and within minutes, I am whipping out my notepad and pen and frantically taking notes.  Jim demands to know what I'm doing and I answer:  "didn't you hear the announcement?   When she said "Ladies and gentleman..we need your help..is there a blogger on board?"  Jim answers, "I'm pretty sure she said 'doctor'" and everyone around me agrees. And the Jack Black look-alike flight attendant(Alex from Puerto Rico--see..I pay attention!) told us the guy was going to be fine--it was dehydration--and to save face, I answer:  "He'd be just as fine if he read the part in my blog when my parents sent me to Canada in 1972 with a brand new camera and two rolls of film and when I sent them to be developed I got back 22 pictures of my eyeball."OK..we arrive in Barcelona, and our driver tells us what a clown reputation Donald Trump has all over Europe..as though we needed to come all the way here to hear THAT.  My first impression of Barcelona is that it's big, old, ugly, and dirty and the first person who even implies that this could be a description of ME gets immediately unfriended. We were still unshowered, and the tour guide tells us not to bring any valuables, but how could that be when we couldn't check in yet? When pickpockets are described during the actual tour, you know you're up the creek. We're on the upper deck as we hop on, Hop off.  Hop on. Hop off.  The Clapper.  And the smokers are just about to do me in.  The tour is..well..a tour.  The old places remind me of Mexico, the palm-tree lined streets remind we of Florida, and everything else looks like NYC. Look. I know I complain non-stop on arrival day of vacation..and for days after.  (Except at Woodloch. Woodloch is God)  Now if they could install a zip line in the Vatican..Ha!  Jim sees me write this and says"Like you'd ever go on a zip line!" and I tell him it's all about options.  We stop at the most famous attraction in Barcelona..Sagrada Familia and if you google it now, you'll see what I saw.  A thousand smelly tourists snapping photos of what looked like an enormous sand castle surrounded by penises.  Every sand castle looks like it has a  penis to me.  Damn my turrets syndrome! So what am I doing while everyone is oohing and aching over the penises?  I am trying to figure out what to do with malfunctioning ear buds.  I plug the wire in(as instructed) to the USA flag and the buds keep getting rejected. I try to see if I recognize any other flag..only Israel's rings a bell....and I didn't want to hear about the sandcastle in Hebrew.  I really should force myself to memorize the different flags of the world..in case I ever seriously tour Europe or some nonsense like that. We are in the room for five minutes.  It has a fishbowl bathroom like the one in Jamaica.  Jim already locked himself in.  And despite what seems to be complaining, this is going to be a fun adventure.  Thanks for planning, Christine Cherry Hommel