I saw a lady on TV, she was born without arms. That’s sad, but then they said, “Lola does not know the meaning of the word ‘can’t’.” That, to me, is even worse in a way. Not only is she missing arms, but she doesn’t understand simple contractions. It’s easy, Lola - you just take two words, put them together, take out the middle letters, put in a comma, and you raise it up!
You know things are amiss when random cabbies passing you on the street tell you to cheer up. Lately, my brow has been permanently furrowed. If it’s not a crush of overwhelming work and stress, it’s a problem having to do with my account having been hacked. My parents dutifully sent over the information for me to send back to Washington Mutual (or should I call it Chase?) but our fax machine has brought back a busy error every time I try to send it, so I am wondering if Washington Mutual simply does not accept foreign fax numbers. In any case, it’s been irritating me all morning. And, like I said, compounded with the largest campaign our tiny little Dublin office has ever launched… Well, it’s a handful of stress.
Hence, furrowed brow.
There’s a whole host of responsibility that goes into living abroad. For one thing, all of my money has to be transferred to my home bank account so I can do simple things like pay off my credit card debt, which was accumulated in the first few months living here as I had no local bank account. This would be a simple enough affair if it didn’t have to go through two whole banks to get to its intended location. And the fact that the Euro has actually gone down in response to the massive international economy crisis… Well, poop! I am ending up with less money than I had originally anticipated.
I mean, things are still good. Okay, things are actually really good! I mean, now I have, y’know, friends and stuff with whom I can do activities. Although work has been extremely busy, that’s a good sign that our company won’t be impacted by the crisis, for now, at least.
And plus, they always have Coke Zero in Dublin. As long as Coke Zero’s around, I’m cool.
“I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. ‘Can I interest you in the chicken?’ she asks. ‘Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?’ To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.”— David Sedaris
“I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around the banks will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered.”—
Typing out to deafening silence definitely has its benefits, but when you blog partially as a means to keep in touch with people back home, this is less good. So, I have reactivated comments. Although… I’m not quite so sure if this is actually working.
Also, new layout! Constantly keeping it fresh; that’s my motto.
When I was living in Atlanta, I had a gym membership to a facility that was part of our corporate complex and I would attend this regularly, around 4-5 days a week. I always gave myself a good pat on the back for this behavior and I felt genuinely good doing it.
I miss that a lot.
So in addition to the dancing and the aeroblast cardio workouts, I am going to be eating healthier. And, although I have subscribed to Self magazine and have taken it upon myself to be a decently healthy eater, I realized that I didn’t have any particular idea how to cook for one person. So, I decided to bone up on some fitness and diet blogs. And I clicked from one, to the other, to the other, and before I knew it, my Google Reader had 17 shiny new contributors under my “Fitness” folder. I don’t know why I find what other people eat on a given day to be so fascinating, it just is. And the recipe and snack ideas are pretty ingenious for eating healthy and cooking for one person.
(Side note: That is what I utterly despise about most cooking. Mostly every recipe calls for at least four people. When you’re cooking for one, that means either three days of leftovers or adjusting a recipe to adjust to only one person. And this happens even in magazines like Self or Glamour, where it’s assumed that most of the audience is most likely to be single women. Stop it already!)
So I’ve been learning well from them and trying to abide by their tips and tricks. High on the list of things To Do? Well, start by learning how to cook brown rice, for one. I tried that last night and messed it up entirely. And I’m going to actually be buying vegetables. To eat! What a concept.