but not at you...or with you...ok, maybe at you.
ugh. sorry. i don't like to think of myself as a judging-type person, but maybe i am. is that why i almost laughed aloud, but was happy to muster up some self control, when i overheard this conversation at my local Aveda salon today:
client (texting on cell phone) to stylist: "how long does it take to get an application back?"
stylist: "what type of application."
client: "a rental application"
stylist: "oh, it depends. why?"
client: "well, i had to fill out a rental application for this trailer i want on old country road."
stylist: "really? for a trailer? i've never had to do that before."
client: "yeah, i know. it's not like it's a double-wide or anything..."
both confused.
i am judging myself for writing this, so i'll make a confession: i used to live in a trailer; however, it was a double wide.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
crazy cat lady
is this what it has come to? me writing about my cat? i guess now that i'm in situ, my topics of interest have waned considerably. i do want to give a shout out to my lungs for no-complaint performance during the inhalation of a significant amount of toxic paint fumes over the past few days and another to the muscles of my forearms and right hand for expert wielding of the crowbar and staple puller during floor removal. but, back to the cat.
she's a pretty stellar cat, as far as cats go. somewhat stupid and completely un-stealthy, she is generally good for hair loss and hilarity (like when she decided that our air ducts would be fun to play in. ha. ha.). when i picked her up in baggage claim she was calm, unruffled, and covered in her own...well, it was eight hours. gross. i immediately tossed out her nasty fleece bed, gave her a bath in the airport bathroom, and went on my way.
the next day i picked up a super plush microfiber bed at target. soft, comfy, and $15. she hated it. pushed it off chairs. never sat on it. didn't even use it to scratch up or piss on. stupid cat. instead she camped out on top of our suitcase or curled up in a giant box of crumpled paper leftover from our moving process.
i went to the store on thursday and found a bed similar to the one she destroyed over the atlantic. i sprayed it with a bit of catnip, put some treats in it, and set it on top of her favorite suitcase. (yes, we are still living out of our luggage.) she still hated it. i left the tag on, thinking that this might happen. just as i was about to put it back in my "return" pile, dan's genius took over. he went to the garage, pulled out a wad of moving paper, wrapped the bed in a crunchy duvet, and it was like flies on stink.
now, every night around 2 a.m. i hear "crumple, crumple, crumple" as she makes herself comfortable in her new home. next step: try to help her overcome her fear of the Great American Outdoors.
she's a pretty stellar cat, as far as cats go. somewhat stupid and completely un-stealthy, she is generally good for hair loss and hilarity (like when she decided that our air ducts would be fun to play in. ha. ha.). when i picked her up in baggage claim she was calm, unruffled, and covered in her own...well, it was eight hours. gross. i immediately tossed out her nasty fleece bed, gave her a bath in the airport bathroom, and went on my way.
the next day i picked up a super plush microfiber bed at target. soft, comfy, and $15. she hated it. pushed it off chairs. never sat on it. didn't even use it to scratch up or piss on. stupid cat. instead she camped out on top of our suitcase or curled up in a giant box of crumpled paper leftover from our moving process.
i went to the store on thursday and found a bed similar to the one she destroyed over the atlantic. i sprayed it with a bit of catnip, put some treats in it, and set it on top of her favorite suitcase. (yes, we are still living out of our luggage.) she still hated it. i left the tag on, thinking that this might happen. just as i was about to put it back in my "return" pile, dan's genius took over. he went to the garage, pulled out a wad of moving paper, wrapped the bed in a crunchy duvet, and it was like flies on stink.
now, every night around 2 a.m. i hear "crumple, crumple, crumple" as she makes herself comfortable in her new home. next step: try to help her overcome her fear of the Great American Outdoors.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
fin
i am in America. no, wait. i LIVE in America. although the jumble of my life will most likely remain, the location will cease to be so exotic.
when we moved to the U.K. 41 months ago, our
goal was simple: fill the passports. i hoped to average one trip per month over (what was originally supposed to be) 32 months, instead i averaged 1.25 trips per month during our year-point-five and had to have extra pages sewn into my passport. (i did make the mistake of totaling the "travel" category in our Quicken budget. but, really, i would rather have my full passport than that brand new car i could have paid cash for had i spent every night at 39 Garland Street.)
it was bittersweet leaving the island, with no return ticket booked. no more cask ale and $40 flights to dublin. no more weekly market and queues, bins, rubbish, cricket, footie, give-ways, tubes, and half-pints.
now we need to make a new goal. hrm. this could be tricky.
the final list -- number indicates overnight trip, cities during trip next to number, "A" for airport.
when we moved to the U.K. 41 months ago, our
goal was simple: fill the passports. i hoped to average one trip per month over (what was originally supposed to be) 32 months, instead i averaged 1.25 trips per month during our year-point-five and had to have extra pages sewn into my passport. (i did make the mistake of totaling the "travel" category in our Quicken budget. but, really, i would rather have my full passport than that brand new car i could have paid cash for had i spent every night at 39 Garland Street.)it was bittersweet leaving the island, with no return ticket booked. no more cask ale and $40 flights to dublin. no more weekly market and queues, bins, rubbish, cricket, footie, give-ways, tubes, and half-pints.
now we need to make a new goal. hrm. this could be tricky.
the final list -- number indicates overnight trip, cities during trip next to number, "A" for airport.
- london
- canterbury, dover
- venice (A)
- tonbridge, hever
- sevilla, granada, marbella, nerja, gibraltar (A)
- hong kong, chengdu, tongren (A)
- k-town, portland (A)
- dublin, cashel, killarney (A)
- amsterdam (A)
- brugge
- rome (A)
- edinburgh
>> end of 2007 - mannheim
- boleslawiec (A)
- naples (A)
- prague (A)
- dublin (A)
- san francisco, santa rosa (A)
- brugge
- florence, pisa (A)
- portland, k-town, boise, CDA, las vegas (A)
- the cotswolds, stratford-upon-avon, warwick
- rome, amalfi (A)
- istanbul, ephesus, mykonos, santorini, crete, alexandria, gisa, corfu, olympia, athens (A)
- stonehenge, salisbury (day trip)
- zurich, lucerne, interlaken, murren (A)
>>> end of 2008 - provence (A)
- bath
- copenhagen (A)
- madrid, segovia, avila, toledo (A)
- london
- paris
- rothenburg, bavaria, munich (A)
- wales
- kas, turkey (A)
- scotland (A)
- yorkshire
- boise (A)
- normandy, brugge
- heidelberg (A)
- morocco (A)
- krakow (A)
- chiavenna, italy (A)
>> end of 2009 - london
- las vegas (A)
- norway (A)
- south africa, zambia (A)
- washington, d.c., las vegas, oregon, road trip to north carolina (A)
- romania (A)
- red sea, egypt (A)
- brugge
>> end of 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
at sea
a cruise:
although i enjoyed my one cruise immensely, it was exhausting trying to escape the throngs of shipmates to find a secluded spot to enjoy a Greek afternoon, just to turn around and sprint back to the boat before sunset. i believe that on a truly luxurious vacation, one shouldn't have to wear a watch.
on our one cruise, two of my favorite words were "at sea." this simply meant that we could sleep late, eat lots, lounge by the pool, and not worry about Heraklion's shitty museum or getting the Pharaoh's curse in an Alexandrian alleyway.
another Corona with lime, please, waiter.
if i played up the adventurer in me too much in the last post, i would like to apologize. for every yin there is a yang. and after five days of navigating the backwoods of Transylvania, we were ready for seven days of sunscreen on the shores of the Red Sea.
hello, Hurghada.
although "five-star" in Egypt is more like "4.5 star" in America, it was still FOUR.POINT.FIVE.STAR! marble, a/c, cold beer, all-you-can-eat, sun loungers, palm trees, and so much luscious green-grass sod in the middle of a Saharan landscape, that it made Las Vegas look eco-friendly. the hotel even sort of looked like a huge boat.
ahhhh....decadence.
here's what we did:
true.The practice of loading up an enormous floating replica of Las Vegas with a bunch of fearful Americans and whipping them past a dozen tourist-oriented ports of call at thirty knots. (Michael Chabon, Wonder Boys)
although i enjoyed my one cruise immensely, it was exhausting trying to escape the throngs of shipmates to find a secluded spot to enjoy a Greek afternoon, just to turn around and sprint back to the boat before sunset. i believe that on a truly luxurious vacation, one shouldn't have to wear a watch.
on our one cruise, two of my favorite words were "at sea." this simply meant that we could sleep late, eat lots, lounge by the pool, and not worry about Heraklion's shitty museum or getting the Pharaoh's curse in an Alexandrian alleyway.
another Corona with lime, please, waiter.
if i played up the adventurer in me too much in the last post, i would like to apologize. for every yin there is a yang. and after five days of navigating the backwoods of Transylvania, we were ready for seven days of sunscreen on the shores of the Red Sea.
hello, Hurghada.
although "five-star" in Egypt is more like "4.5 star" in America, it was still FOUR.POINT.FIVE.STAR! marble, a/c, cold beer, all-you-can-eat, sun loungers, palm trees, and so much luscious green-grass sod in the middle of a Saharan landscape, that it made Las Vegas look eco-friendly. the hotel even sort of looked like a huge boat.
ahhhh....decadence.
here's what we did:
- apply sunscreen
- eat
- sunbathe (three days), scuba dive (three days)
- read book
- eat
- float the lazy river (our pool had a LAZY RIVER)
- drink
- eat
- drink
- sleep
talk about well-rested.
today begins day 1 of "Operation Move to America."
as they say, the party's (nearly) over.
time travel
there is something about "backpacking through europe" that appeals to most Americans. i think we may be stuck on a 1970s adventure ideal where the exchange rates were favorable, backpacking involved backpacks, and there were no motorways, McDonald's, or mobile phones. 
for better or worse, the idealistic adventure has somewhat faded. now, with an international plan on the iphone, a rental car, and a GPS, one can travel through europe in nearly the same manner as one can travel through Texas. book online, set the route, order a big mac.
in many ways, this is nicer than times past. there is much less stress for the newly initiated traveller, and they still get to experience French hospitality, German castles, Spanish sangria, Roman ruins... but, lately, we've been seeking outings that inject a little tiny bit of the adventure back in - the mountains of Morocco, a village in Turkey, the African bush, and now, Romania.
for the first time since 2003 on a trip to mainland europe i felt like i was sort of backpacking, albeit via rental car. we were challenged, lost, and mildly uncomfortable. it was more travel, less vacation.
our trusty GPS only had major roads on it, and by "major" i mean paved, of which there were just a smattering. we had to actually purchase a map. we could never find our lodgings and had to call people, converse with them (mostly pointing since few spoke english), ask directions, and interact.
driving 100 miles took three hours, at least, but we enjoyed gawking at roadside prostitutes, crumbling pastel-colored buildings, and massive abandoned factories. the wreckage of communism.
we passed farmers on their way to work, riding along Romanian highways in their horse-drawn carts. we saw people stacking hay and digging potatoes by hand.
we sat in clouds of cigarette smoke and ate pizza or potatoes and drank Ursus pilsner at less than $2 per liter.
we saw houses with no electricity, roads with no pavement, and grannies wearing wool leg warmers.
the locals were grim faced, mostly, but who wouldn't be if your occupation involved a wooden rake?
we got the stink-eye for 400 miles in our Avis rental, but we pressed on.
Romania today may be that hybrid between 70s backpacking and the Eurostar to Paris. one foot in the EU and one foot out. although we didn't eat a big mac on the piazza in Sibiu, we could have. but, at the same time, we couldn't have found an english menu within 100 miles in Maramures.
for the medium-core adventurer like me, this dabbling in a foreign place was just right.
for better or worse, the idealistic adventure has somewhat faded. now, with an international plan on the iphone, a rental car, and a GPS, one can travel through europe in nearly the same manner as one can travel through Texas. book online, set the route, order a big mac.
in many ways, this is nicer than times past. there is much less stress for the newly initiated traveller, and they still get to experience French hospitality, German castles, Spanish sangria, Roman ruins... but, lately, we've been seeking outings that inject a little tiny bit of the adventure back in - the mountains of Morocco, a village in Turkey, the African bush, and now, Romania.
for the first time since 2003 on a trip to mainland europe i felt like i was sort of backpacking, albeit via rental car. we were challenged, lost, and mildly uncomfortable. it was more travel, less vacation.
our trusty GPS only had major roads on it, and by "major" i mean paved, of which there were just a smattering. we had to actually purchase a map. we could never find our lodgings and had to call people, converse with them (mostly pointing since few spoke english), ask directions, and interact.
driving 100 miles took three hours, at least, but we enjoyed gawking at roadside prostitutes, crumbling pastel-colored buildings, and massive abandoned factories. the wreckage of communism.
we passed farmers on their way to work, riding along Romanian highways in their horse-drawn carts. we saw people stacking hay and digging potatoes by hand.
we sat in clouds of cigarette smoke and ate pizza or potatoes and drank Ursus pilsner at less than $2 per liter.
we saw houses with no electricity, roads with no pavement, and grannies wearing wool leg warmers.
the locals were grim faced, mostly, but who wouldn't be if your occupation involved a wooden rake?
we got the stink-eye for 400 miles in our Avis rental, but we pressed on.
Romania today may be that hybrid between 70s backpacking and the Eurostar to Paris. one foot in the EU and one foot out. although we didn't eat a big mac on the piazza in Sibiu, we could have. but, at the same time, we couldn't have found an english menu within 100 miles in Maramures.
for the medium-core adventurer like me, this dabbling in a foreign place was just right.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)