With the first week in Spain under my happily tapas-filled belt, these are a couple of the things I picked up on (/awkwardly attempted) the first couple of days here.

From the flight…

Check your luggage before you leave for the airport. Your heaviest suitcase may have one wheel that’s constantly getting stuck, and your carry on may have a zipper broken.
Pulling out a 3-month supply of your anti-anxiety pills on the plane elicits some serious side-eye - you can really freak them out by anxiously reading the safety pamphlet.
There’s never a good movie to watch on planes, people will judge whatever you watch.. If you choose hustlers though, don’t start it 15 minutes before landing, Cardi B just came in the plot.
I’m convinced people that look good while they fly to have some kind of secret club where they share their secrets, and my dehydrated-baggy-eyed self would love to get an invite.
Listen to the customs officer’s advice for living in Spain - learn to chill out and go with the flow (I’m going to assume he says that to everyone and didn’t just get an ‘anxious’ vibe from me).

From Madrid

All the women are chic, effortlessly. Try as you may, but they will always out-dress you.
Doggos a plenty in the city = a good city. And Madrid? Very good.
Try not to be that tourist stopping at every corner going “LOOK AT THAT BUILDING.” (Actually, do it. Who cares, even their city hall looks like a palace.)
Just because you occasionally did DuoLingo on your commute to wor, doesn’t mean you now speak Spanish.
If you book a bike tour, double-check the time. You may walk out of the hotel half-asleep the first morning to find two bikes and a guide on a segway waiting for you.
Crepes taste 100 times better after a surprise bike tour.
Barrio de las Letras legends Lope de Vega and Cervantes paved the way for the modern-day rap battle. The famous writers would insult each other’s work with their own poems; in 1602 Lope was “publicly attacked by three sonnets,” criticizing his work, Lope retorted with a dig at Cervantes’ “trashy” work. Mic-drop.
No English menu = a place you want to eat at.
If you start eating dinner at 8:30 pm, you’re either a tourist or a geriatric. Actually, scratch that, even the grandparents are eating at 10.
Restaurants recommended by the hotel are great, but try the small ones you pass en route that overflow with locals.
Madrid’s Golden Triangle of Art is the Prado Museum, Thyssen-Bornemisza and Reina Sofia National Museum, they are stunning and carry some of the world’s best art. (And when you’re extremely jetlagged, art triangle can sound like fart triangle, so try not to laugh).
Don’t make your mom almost miss the train to get a poke bowl - she will be mad and they serve a meal on the train anyway.