I know there are a zillion different websites and books that preach the importance of BALANCE in your life. If you work too much and play too little, there are coaches out the wazoo that are there to help you see the error of your ways. Interestingly enough, though, very few people teach you how to AVOID getting in that pickle in the first place. But who needs a coach when you´ve got an entire country to point out what an idiot you are. Spain doesn’t fool around. It smacks you in the face with the best fish you’ve ever tasted in your life and reminds you that life is NOT all about work!

When I started ProBiz Partners, and later Boomer Babe Web Marketing, I didn’t plan to grow big. In fact, I intentionally kept a picture in head of NO employees (read “no contractors”) and no complications. I wanted to make good money, have a few great clients, and have a wonderful life. “y PUNTO” (PERIOD!). But in the past two months I suddenly find myself working 12 hours a day. I didn’t plan this. I didn’t ask for it — although some would argue that point.

When I’m working in Spain the imbalance that I’ve developed comes into super sharp focus. Friends invite me to lunch, and I bite my tongue and accept. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s that I DO want to go — but my standard response these days is “Sorry, I don’t have time — I have to work.” So I slap electrical tape over the mouth of that little pest in my head and smile and say “Sure, I’ll meet you for lunch. When and where?” Ah, but then the complications arise….

The next day, at 2:30 (of course we were scheduled to meet at 2:00pm, but we’re on Spanish time), I show up at one of my favorite places. Helios is a teeny little bar/restaurant perched on a short outcrop of rock overlooking the Mediterranean and sporting a breathtaking view of Dénia. The sun is shining, the sea is dotted with white sails, the wine is incredible, the food is….. STOP IT! WAKE UP! I’m supposed to be w o r k i n g!!!!! I am SO sunk! I surrender to the rapid-fire, high-volume Spanish companions and just know that I will pay the price later.

Unfortunately, I conveniently forgot just how long Spaniards like to hang out. When an American says “I’m going for a long lunch,” you know that they’ll be back in a couple of hours. But a Spaniard? Get out the sleeping bags, you’re here for the duration. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. At 8:45 PM I finally slipped the key into the lock and glared angrily at my computer. A SIX hour lunch — and I still had work to do.

Let’s just say I’m working on a new business plan…

I’ve recently been telling everyone about the sudden turnaround in customer service that I’ve been experiencing. All during the holidays I was greeted with helpful, knowledgeable sales people everywhere — even in the big box stores. I was sure it was a Customer Service Revolution!

Right up until last week when I ran smack dab into Mr. GoDaddy. I actually have a much more colorful name for the supervisor at my ex-hosting company, but probably best not to print it here.

“Oh, we took down your site?” “Too bad. Your problem. Fix it.”

Me? Fix a script that’s runninig on YOUR server, and running a script that I can’t see? Fix something that I have no control over?

“Yep.” “Your site. Your problem.”

Fine. Then I’ll tell everybody I know that GoDaddy’s customer service [expletive deleted].

“OK. Anything else I can help you with today?”

ARRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

I knew I should have changed host providers back in December when it was renewal time. That’s what I get for procrastinating.

Since I’ve also failed msierably at keeping up with my blog, I’m going to do a little shameless self-promotion — by coercing you into checking out the two latest Boomer Babe Web Marketing posts.

As you know, I started Boomer Babe Web Marketing just a few months ago with a group of great people. I finally twisted the arms of a couple of them and they gave in and write blog posts. And they’re really good! You can get a fabulous fondue recipe from Grace, and really great marketing hints from Margot. I’d encourage you to subscribe to that blog as there will be a lot of interesting and tasty variety. The Feedblitz link is in the right side of the Boomer Babe blog. Check it out:

Boomer Babe Web Marketing Blog

Trust me on this one. It’s worth the click.

And, no matter what flavor of holidays you prefer, I wish you a very happy season and a prosperous and healthy new year!!

Our friend, Nelson (good Spanish name, no?) invited us to go see a rising star comic in a local club. But we arrived to find that the club owner had failed to properly advertise the date, so the 4 of us were the only ones in the audience. Nelson, though, had met the comic, Luis Miguel (Luismi) so he struck up a conversation.

Next thing I know, Luismi is at our table, chuckling at his recently acquired “star” status. “Hmm… I do stand-up comedy, but I’ve never done ‘table comedy’ before.” He smiles and pullls up a bar stool.

I brace myself. Trying to follow rapid-fire Spanish in a noisy place is no small challenge. Trying to understand jokes — in Spanish — that frequently hinge on cultural references is pretty much impossible.

“I love the gestures that girls make when they’re brushing a guy off.” Luismi says. Then he whips off an impressive simulation of a hip-hop American girl doing that walk-like-an-egyptian head bobble and popping her wrist around to form a solid “STOP” gesture. In perfect English, and with a scarily accurate tough girl accent he says “Uh-uh…. Talk to the HAND!” Everybody at the table about fell over laughing. So much for missing the cultural jokes.

Everyone joined in an animated conversation, swapping stories and jokes and asking Luismi about his rise to stardom. It was fascinating and fun. And I got so lost in what everyone was saying that I totally forgot that I was in a typically-uncomfortable situation where I didn’t understand what was going on.

After a couple of hours of sit-down comedy Luismi announced that he was hungry, and had we eaten? So we went with him to a little pizza place next door to the club and whiled away even more hours, enjoying our own private star. When it was finally time to say goodnight Luismi insisted on buying our dinner. And in true Spanish fashion, I think I neglected to say “thanks.”

So, Thank You, Luismi! Your “Yankee” fan will follow your career and send you good vibes. You deserve the success that you’re experiencing. Un abrazo, Denise

P.S. Luismi, I’ll pay good money if you’ll resist the temptation to include me and my friends in your next monologue.

I thought of him as I sat in the airport in London and realized that for the first time ever I had left home WITHOUT the power! I have a trusty power converter that has been in my “I can pack and get out the door in 1 hour” bag for years. But not this time. Somehow I had managed to leave it behind. I groaned as I remembered the smell of burning plastic in China when I plugged in a new power converter - to my laptop - and there was smoke and sparks! I’ve never again trusted any other power converter with my precious electronics than the one that was sitting on the shelf at home — 5,000 miles away.

I started the search in an airport luggage shop. SURELY in England they would have converters that would work with US electronics. But no, the shop girl was very clear “These are just plug changers. They are NOT current converters!” Uh-oh. If not in England, the chances of finding one in Spain were not good.

As soon as we landed I explained that my first priority was finding a power converter. My friends laughed; my typical first request is to get to the nearest tapas bar. Not this time. If I couldn’t find a power converter I was dead in the water.

We stopped in Alicante at two electrical stores (in Spain most types of consumer products are still sold in specialty shops). In the first store, the proprietor was calmly chatting with the only other customer as I impatiently tapped my foot (good American that I am). After 15 minutes I gave up and went back to the car. In the second shop they shrugged apologetically and told me that they only had the plug-in changer thing-y. No power converters.

Now I’m getting nervous. Maybe this was an even bigger screw-up than I realized. When we got back to the apartment I used my friend’s computer to do a quick search. I could order a converter from Amazon UK and pay for it in British pounds, which is now double the cost of American dollars — so about $100 — AND wait for at least a week for it to arrive. Or I could keep looking.

One friend called another who called another and we were directed to the best little electrical shop in Dénia. The shop owner nodded and assured me he had the solution. He handed me a heavy gizmo that looked like a piece off of a power station, and then an adaptor that goes with it. For a more $25 I walked away, totally freaked out that I was going to blow up my laptop with this Frankenstein contraption.

When we arrived at the apartment I went straight for the “office” and set everything up. I held my breath as I realized that — ta-da!! — the damn plug-in didn’t fit the plug-in in the apartment! My friend grinned, handed me a glass of wine, and disappeared to dig in her junk drawer. She returned with a Spain-to-Spain plug converter. Now I’m REALLY worried. How many pieces-parts does it take to replace my wonderful little travel converter? I’m practically hysterical.

I close my eyes and hand the plug to my husband. “You do it. I can’t bear to look.” So he did, and I waited for that nauseating smell. But nothing happened other than my laptop buzzing to life. I took a gulp of my wine and vowed to never let my little travel converter out of my sight again.

Ah, but that’s not the end of the story. I decided I needed to have a back-up converter, so I renewed my internet search. As I hunted I thought “You know, I wonder why so many shops sell plug changers instead of power converters — that’s awfully dangerous to the electronics of foreigners. Why would they sell those things?” Suddenly a little voice in the back of my head started giggling quietly. “You know what? You’re gonna feel REALLY STUPID if it turns out that those $2 plug-in changers are all you really need!”

“NOOOO!!! Shut up! That’s not possible! What about China?”

“But we’re not IN China! This is Europe. I think you need to check this out.”

OK, ok, so I checked it out. Five minutes of research on the internet revealed my worst fear / fondest hope. Almost ALL American electronics are capable of working on European voltage. All you really need is a stupid $2 plug changer. Just shoot me.

Hopefully it will give you a laugh. And maybe even a little food for thought.

Now get out there and do NOTHING today!

For my husband, it’s a particularly big challenge. It’s not that he’s clumsy, he’s just so busy looking around for photo ops that he pretty much NEVER watches where he’s going. A couple of days ago I saw a little girl about 2 walking with her papa. She was gazing at the stars, waving at the passing scooters, and suddenly WHAM! She walked right into the side of a big trash dumpster. When she picked herself up and smiled, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Then I flashed on two thoughts: 1) That’s exactly what my honey looks like when he’s walking around in Spain (and yes, he has nearly fallen several times); and 2) If that had happened in the US an enraged parent would have raced into the store demanding to know why that damn trash can was out in the middle of the sidewalk — and what is your attorney’s name and number?

Spaniards are practical. They figure that if you’re dumb enough to step in a hole, or dog poop, it’s your own dang fault. And besides, I always wanted to see what the inside of a giant crane looked like anyway.

When we landed at London Gatwick airport I had the clever idea of finding another discount regional carrier that would pop us over to Spain and get us there before dinner. But British Air didn’t much like that idea. So instead we decided to hop the train and go and see the British coast. I had always heard about Brighton, but had never been there. So we grabbed our way-to-heavy carry-ons and headed out. We walked down to the beach and spent a very nice day at the rocky beach where my husband will tell you that I tried to poison him by ordering a seafood platter instead of the fish and chips that we had agreed upon, only to find out that one of the little nuggets that I gave him was a fried oyster — and he is deathly allergic to mollusks. I held my breath all afternoon, not wanting to confess my crime, and hoping that he wouldn’t get sick. By some miracle he didn’t. Maybe it was the Guinness.

After our little beach diversion we headed back to the airport to discover that our flight was 2 1/2 hours late. So we ordered up more Guinness (OK, I don’t drink much beer, but one of us enjoyed it… ) and pulled out our books and quickly fell asleep. When we finally arrived in Spain it was 3 a.m. But guess what? Somehow with a mere 11 1/2 hours between flights, the airline managed to lose our luggage. Oh well, it was so late that we didn’t dare call our friends to come and get us. So we took a taxi to a nearby hotel and dropped $100 for about 4 hours of sleep. All in all my “discount” airfare that saved $250 ended up costing us $210 for train tickets, lunch, a late night snack, taxi fare, and hotel. We did enjoy our afternoon in Brighton, but we could have been walking on the SANDY beach in Spain with friends. We’ve made a pact. No more midnight flights. No more discount fares.

About 3 months ago I realized that I was in a position to launch a new company that I had been dreaming about for several months. I started a small web marketing company that has been dubbed Boomer Babe Web Marketing. If you check us out, you’ll see that it is a collaboration with 5 other people (all but 1 are women) that I have come to know, respect, and trust. I’m very excited about this new venture and happy to report that we have already booked 4 projects, which are in development.

During the past 2 months, growing my existing business consumed much of my time, and getting Boomer Babe up and running took up the rest of the hours in my work week. All in all, I neglected my posts on this blog. BUT, before you wonder if I’m remembering to take care of myself, the answer is, “Yes!” I neglected this blog, but I didn’t neglect myself or my family.

And now I’m in a bit of a quandry. Should I continue this blog? Or just focus on blogging on the Boomer Babe site? My teammates at BBWM have volunteered to help write that blog, so maybe I’ll have time and material for both.

And my last news is that I leave in exactly 8 days to return to Spain. This time I have 2 months to explore some new areas of both work and leisure. Based on past experience, I know I’ll have stories to share. So please let me know if you have any specific areas of interest that have to do with working virtually — and internationally. I’m happy to share anything that I can.

The fast and easy way to make Sangria is to simply purchase a cheap bottle of red wine, pour it into a pitcher, add an equal part of your favorite lemon/lime soda, drop in a few slices of orange and apple, and serve over ice.

But then, again, you can drink the real stuff. I’m still debating whether or not I want to share this recipe in its entirety…

One night we went to a wonderful seafood restaurant on the beach in Javea. My friend wanted to crawl under the table when I ordered Sangria in a fancy restaurant. But when I insisted that she taste it, she quickly changed her mind. Now THAT is Sangria! I asked her if she thought they might share the recipe. She thought I was nuts. Nevertheless, when the waitress returned, I said (wearing my sweetest “I’m a stupid foreigner” grin and stammering in broken Spanish) “This Sangria is the best I have ever tasted. Can you tell me how you make it? Please????” She smiled broadly, disappeared, and quickly came back with the full recipe scribbled on a napkin. SCORE!!!!!!!!

OK, so I’ll share. But when you drink it, you have to toast the source: Los Remos in Javea.

Sangria from Los Remos (The Rower)
Javea, Spain

1 bottle white wine
1 bottle rosé wine
1 bottle red wine
½ bottle Cointreau
¼ bottle Brandy
1 bottle Vermouth
Add pieces of fruit & soda

Serve over ice. Be prepared to sit around for hours, eat tapas, and RELAX, you wired up Americans!!!