Tuesday, 22 December 2009


Tomorrow, I get to go home (if the weather permits).

You know what this means, right?



Lots of lovely eating, which is good news for my rack, which has depleted greatly over the last three months.

Poor measly flaps of flesh.

The Ear WILL be pleased.

You see, I haven't quite got used to the eating scheme here in Spain.

So I just don't eat.

Which is sad.

When I left England, I thought that it was rather brilliant because I would FINALLY not have to answer to anyone,
have The Ear to cook for and a whole bunch of freedom.

As it turns out, The Ear buggered off to Pamplona, my housemates stalk me via Facebook and cooking for myself is

UNSATISYING. No one to impress apart from myself and at 9:30pm, after pratting around in front of semi-dead
spaniards for five hours, I'm really not that fussed with impressing myself.

And as for freedom? Well fuck me, there's so much freedom that I have filled it with sleeping and hanging out
with my best friend 'lappy'... he's reliable, he plays sweet music and he allows me to look at other blogs all
night long if I feel like it. God bless technology.

I did try swimming, but with the snow it quickly became the past and I do go for coffee on my own every day
to write in my diary. After Christmas this is going to change. I have Spanish lessons planned, swimming will
recommence and I will start tutoring 3 children for extra pocket money.

So, I seem to have strayed from the point.



I am muchos excited... I get to see all of my lovely friends and family and bestow them with gifts and cuddles.
I get to go to M&S, oh god how I have missed M&S, and then I'm off to Canterbury to see the greatest hairdresser
of all time and see more friends and give even more gifts.


I wonder if I will miss Spain at all?

And I MUST remember to start saying 'please' and 'thankyou' again in England, it has completely escaped me here.

Yes, I will miss Spain. I will miss my Friday Bastard Nine Year olds, the loudest children on earth, I will miss
wearing skinny jeans (ain't no way I'm fitting into them after the feasts in England) and I will miss the nice lady
at the Pasteleria.

And yet, the battle still rages on.... Spain vs. England.

One day, one of them has to win my heart.

England currently has the edge, but I suspect that has something to do with my being able to speak the language
more than fluently.

Pull your finger out Sally Spoon, get some of that Spanish language behind you!

Go go go!

Monday, 21 December 2009

Kind-hearted, beautiful 24 year old women are not supposed to die.

Goodbye sweetheart, xxx

Friday, 18 December 2009

My earlier rage was channeled into this:
Dear Zamora,

How about cutting me some slack?

I'm not quite sure exactly why your residents are ignorant enough to think that I am stupid for being
in this country and having a poor grasp of the language, or just thinking that I'm stupid fullstop.

Why do you think I came here?

And do you think that you can learn a language overnight?

Obviously not, when most of the schools in this fucking boring city teach you English from the age of 6 and yet
when I ask you how you are you turn a funny shade of green and stammar something incoherent.
Surprising also, that you can't even pronounce the alphabet after more than ten years of studying. And you're
laughing at ME?

How about you show me some respect for having the guts to move here and try and do something new?

And allow me to apologise on Britain's behalf for having such a poor curriculum with regards to learning languages,
but also allow me to remind you that this is something beyond my control.

And how do you think a lot of people learn English?

Through teachers.

Through me.

So next time I'm having trouble in the supermarket with a conversation, DON'T openly laugh at me.

Or else you might find yourself anally impaled on a large pineapple.

And while I am having a rant... just because I don't want to go out until 8am at the weekends to some
rank club that is smoky and loud does not meant that I am boring.

It just means that I have better things to do than listen to shitty pop music, endure cigarette burns and spend Saturday afternoon and Sunday asleep.

I actually like to relax and enjoy myself.

Do excuse me.

Lo siento muchos.

Now, if you don't mind, I have a lot of marking to do. Not as much as I should have mind, you lazy bastards.

Were you too busy laughing at English people?

Thursday, 17 December 2009

Fudging hurry up Christmas, yeah?

Wednesday, 16 December 2009

Is it just me or are a lot of people in relationship limbo right now?

Let's forget me and my beef for a minute and look at my sister, who has just broken up with her boyfriend
of five years and is wondering 'what do I do now?'or my friend Lulu who has also been with her boyfriend for a long time and all of sudden his libido has vanished, they are comparing themselves to the local 'Brangelina' and she is wondering what the hell to do about this all.

Will he ever be the person she wants him to be?

Take also, my dear friend Sharky.Now Sharky and I have a bit of a history so let's start at the beginning.

It was a lovely October evening in a cosy, downtown music club. My friend Pelagia and I strolled over to the bar to order a little splash of wine and there he was, Sharky. Floppy brown hair, very gorgeous eyes and a bit of sexy beard.

He looked up and caught my eye and a teeny spark flashed up...
I don't know if anyone else has ever experienced this quite like I do but sometimes you just catch someone's eye and you know, you know?

SOMETHING is about to happen.

So anyway, I quite giddily floated back to my seat con vino and Pelagia knew straight away what was going down.
'Ooh, that barman is DE-LIC-IOUS'... so there we sat for the evening, pretending to listen to the music but
discreetly checking out Sharky's butt and speculating whether or not he was looking over at us.

That night, in bed, I was just settling down for some good old fashioned sleep when a teeny spark flashed up,
'1 message received'... Expecting it to be Pelagia I lazily cast my eye over the content only to find THIS:

'Hi, I'm Sharky, the barman. I hope you don't mind but I took your number off the pianist. I know I don't know
you but I would like to. We should go for a drink sometime'

So I said

'I was just thinking the same thing'

And he replied

'Good. Just so you know, I think you are stunning'

SO... That is how Sharky and I began.

The great thing about Sharky was that we both preferred the cosiness of indoor snuggling, rather than the
scary outside world so we quickly settled into the couch, or bed, and pretty much spent our entire relationship there.

The not so great thing about Sharky was that he was most certainly stuck in a very funny place. A place
that I spent ten months trying to reach but to no avail. There were lovely moments where it would seem that I
had broken through, but the truth was, Sharky was always going to keep me at arm's length and I would never
win his heart.

And so it was, that our relationship had to come to an uncomfortable end and we didn't really speak much
after that- it was best that we kept our distance, and because we didn't really have much else to say.

A little while later I discovered that Sharky had found himself a new lady friend to snuggle with and so speaking terms really were quashed for the time being.

I watched with interest from afar. Sharky opened his own business, which was beautifully decorated and successful.

Sharky even started to smile from time to time. I always remember a distinct lack of smiles when we were together, he was always so brooding, so to see him grinning broadly was really quite magical.

It was a new beginning, a new Sharky.

It had to be down to this new girl.
She was the one who broke the spell and brought Sharky back from the place where he had been hiding.

And oh! What a lovely Sharky he was. We started to talk again, and he even bought me some nice egg cups for
my birthday. Needless to say, Sharky and I slowly became very good friends again. I come home every night and the only person waiting there to speak to me (on MSN, obviously) is Sharky. We have nothing in particular to say, but enjoy bantering away about our lives and relationships.

So anyway, back to the original point about limbo.

It would appear that 'the one who broke the spell' has also broken Sharky's heart for reasons which he will not
disclose (he's always been very private has Sharky)

He is obviously a little distraught, and I truly worry that he might scutter back to his 'place' and hide there.

But so far, he's still with me.

I wanted to write this little entry with a message for my lovely Sharky.

So here it is:

Sharky, ultimately it seems that 'the one who broke the spell' might not be the one for you but I want you
to know that she has caused such a significant difference and cast such a wonderful influence over your life
that her part was entirely important and that this MUST not be forgotten.

While you may be in this 'limbo' where you are unsure of where to turn next, or who to turn to, it seems to me that these good things should be harvested and ploughed into a new season in your life.

Take the best from this and nurse your broken heart back together again.

But please, never go back to your hiding place.

I quite like you where you are, my lovely friend, and you'll be just fine.

(names and places have been changed to protect identity)

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

Excuse me Mr Cupcake?

Yes. You. With the delicious yellow buttercream.

And colourful balls of goodness.

Would you mind placing yourself ever so carefully in a nice, little tin...

Gingerly encasing yourself with some parcel paper...

And hauling yourself over the seas to my doorstep?

Thank you.

You see...

Spanish cakes just aren't the same....

Monday, 14 December 2009

I would like to take this opportunity to thank my purple cardigan with the warmest of gratitude.

Without you, I wouldn't be the same.

Everyday I would struggle to look just right.

When I put you on, it is almost as if you complete me.

You make me myself.

My purple skin.

Friday, 11 December 2009

A very dear ear, indeed.

I think about the beautiful owner of this ear, day in, day out.

If only it were closer, for a little nibble.

But it is a very ambitious ear. An ear that must travel, and be free.

An ear that must listen to the best pastry chefs, to help his hands make the tastiest treats by recipe and then by heart.

I wonder, what do you think? Does this look like an ear worth waiting for?

This is me, Sally Spoon.

I live in Spain.

And I don't really like anyone here.

So I thought I'd spend some time doing this instead.


First things first.

I like coffee and I own a lot of cardigans.

I have lots of ideas, but a problem putting them into effect.

Lazy? Probably.

Bored? Definitely.

I suppose, if I ever get around to posting regularly, I might figure a few things out.

I would like an answer to everything please, if it is not too much trouble.