Thanks Suzie

Dang. If only I'd gotten the word earlier.

Should I go to grad school?

Kids and Screaming

Usually I'm the unfortunate one that has to sit at the back of the plane with all the screaming kids since my travel plans always seem to get made last minute (I guess it's possible that since I travel the economic route this could have a little something to do with it as well). Anyhooooo ... yesterday I managed to finagle a second row seat and really enjoyed my three hour flight without having to listen to the engines or know when ever passenger flushed. However, about a half hour from the end of the trip a three year old two rows behind me started screaming bloody murder like someone had just broken her arm and was trying to set it ... over ... and over ... and over.

I really tried to not be one of those passengers that turns around and looks ... I know those moms are embarrased and are trying to shut their fool kids up, but after 15 minutes of banchee behavior and my headache that had developed, I had to peek. Sure enough, it was the lady that had walked her daughter onto the plane with a leash and a harness. Yeah, when I saw the daughter-on-a-string I thought it was a little bit ridiculous but it didn't really clue me in that it is probably a sign of someone that just doens't know how to be a parent. This lady just let her kid SCREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAM (I don't mean cry either) for a half hour and all she did to try and calm her was make a very faint shhhhhhh every 20 seconds or so. Finally, a perfect stranger calmed her down by letting her play with her bookmark. This girl is either going to be a librarian or she just needed a toy. Me thinks the latter is more likely. Why the parent didn't try something, the world will never know.

I'm not opposed to having kids on planes, and I know why they cry. Planes are scary things. Sometimes I want to cry. But maybe we should evaluate which parents should fly the friendly skies.

As if I don't already have a wedding to attend shortly and then that honeymoon thing followed by the Other Reception and the drive from Dallas to SC

But today I had my "orientation" for graduate school dos accompanied by the work program I'll be starting. Oh and as soon as we get back here in a month (after completing above duties) we'll have to start up that house buying thing and the whole getting married thing, with a quick interlude of the brother's getting married a month later thing. Yup. That should about do it.

Most importantly, I have my entire extended family watching the first season of 24. If anyone owns it and wants to let us borrow it, you'd save us a cumulative rental fee of about $75.

It's about the weather, which I know is really old and boring but at least it's not about the wedding

I can't believe how much it has rained here this month. I think it will be quite the achievement to post this blog without the power shutting off as well. I feel like I'm in some sort of tropical (humid) climate and in the rainy-season. It's still about 100 degrees every day but the nights and mornings are so pleasant and cool. The folks and I swang on the back porch with the kitties last night and watched the storm tear branches from the trees. Probably safer inside, but not nearly the fun!

At least it will probably be cooler than we were expecting for the wedding now (DANG! I almost made it without mentioning the "W" word, I swear I'm not one of those brides)

A different kind of game

When you watch a baseball game from the OWNER'S BOX (as Karo, BK, and I did on Friday night - Thanks BK!) it really, REALLY changes your perspective on the game. You gotta be on your toes though. Sitting right next to the dugout can prove to be quite precarious from a foul ball point-of-view. And it really adds to the fun when you can actually see the answer to boxer vs. briefs question.

Karo came away a much more learned person than before the game, having learned many a baseball rule, and what exactly that guy-that-just-stands-there-next-to-first-base-and-doesn't-do-anything-ever is actually doing.

Err ...

I might have been a little jumpy with the asterisk. I'm not sure I'm ready to give up on The Abbots, the Browns and the gang just yet. I'm such a sap when it comes to that show. I'll lose DH, we'll talk about the other one.

I keep meaning to tell you that ...

M&D (local reference to Mom and Dad) TIVO'd my shows while I was in ColOmbia including Scrubs, Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives*, & Everwood* ... all except the season finale of EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. And Television Without Pity only recaps DH, which I've really lost interest in anyway.

* will be removed from Missy's Fall 2005 Television Line Up. My heart has been won over by 24 and Lost, and those will probably please the rest of the house more anyway. Compromise means never having to watch Star Trek.

Stop feeding me! I have to wear that dress here in about 25 days!

Every day since I've been home someone has made cakes, cupcakes, homemade ice cream, potato salad, deviled eggs (DELISH!) brought over bags of cheetos or slapped some brats on the grill. I can pass on the ice cream relatively easy, not really my thing, but at church Sunday there were rows upon rows upon rows of cupcakes and there is NO walking by those without sucking down at least a bakers dozen. I actually attacked the cupcake man when he tried to sneak by with the ones with sprinkles.

This really has to stop. Not forever, just for ... oh ... 25 more days and then someone can FILL my hotel room with cupcakes. Or .. hmm .. it does seem like there will be cake available that day too ... but from what ...

Quickie

Sorry guys, things are just crazy and hectic still. I wrote a couple posts on the plane but I don't have them with me. I did spare you the details of the airplane musical chairs debacle that was brought on by the Dominican who wanted to sit with his wife and son (not child, he was about 35) yet the three of them all had reserved seats in the middle of three different rows (and none of them had seats in the row he insisted on them utilizing). I was forced to relinquish my beloved aisle seat to squirm between two very stout gentlemen to accommodate his desperation. It was quite pathetic.

Thanks to all my amazingly wonderful friends who showered me with e- and snail-mail cards full of welcome homes and birthday greetings!

Happy Birthday to Me!

I get to come home tomorrow!

The other reason I’m ready to come home

I have had this allergic reaction to something on my hands which has turned quite ugly and rather infected. Mostly only the fingers adjacent to the one that I’ll be taking pictures of here in about a month. Rock on.

Home Sweet Home

I just did a weather check and noticed on my first full day back, it should be 100 degrees. Sweeeeet!

Oh and last night, on the way home from seeing Madagascar (cute, but I felt so bad for that starving lion ... lions can't live of SUSHI - COME ON!) the guy dj-ing the car radio halted when he heard Whitney belt out ... Iiiiiif, IIIIIIIIIIIIIII, cooould stay ...

Now, I won't deny that I'm a closet Bodyguard fan. If Dr.J's out working late and my neighbors are away and TNT shows it's version of the movie, I'm the first to make popcorn. And MAYBE I would "not change the radio station" if it came on, but that's a MAYBE, and that's if I'm in that time of the month where I cry every 15 seconds .... MAYBE. But under normal circumstances, I'm with the rest of the world, and it's. been. played. enough. You certainly shouldn't try to sing along when there are other people in the car, Mister. Oh no, you don't sing Whitney in public. No, no, no, no, NO.

Nearly done

As my D-Day approaches I am starting to salivate and long for what lies ahead. Day 1 involves a giant cookies gorged to it's seams with dark chocolate, and then I can probably settle and slow down a bit. My mom and aunt are in top form with invitation making, just about done with the exception of a few stragglers. I so left the country at the perfect time to avoid hand cramps from overuse of calligraphy pens.

It has only recently occurred to me that I've never actually been out of the country this long before. And the odd thing is, that I've missed it much more on my shorter trips. I guess one can really only take so much sightseeing before you need to go to the movies and sleep late, and I've had my fill of sleeping in here. Although, I fear that I'm aging exponentially here since I haven't been able to sleep past 7:00 a.m. even once. Maybe it's all the rice.

I have two Spanish classes remaining, a dentist appointment, a nail appointment (oh by the way, you can get a french manicure on your hands and feet for a grand total of $4 here. yeah, that's $2 for each. and they'll even handpaint a dainty little flower on your big toe and fourth finger for you if you so desire) and a going away party Saturday. Talk about a place that loves an excuse to party. I've been here 7 weeks and I'm having a going away party.

Dad, I'm making a list of Day 1 necessities. Expect an email.

Eyewear and Vanity

As many of you know, I have a tendency to get eye infections, which tend to worsen with contacts. I have been given a number of prescriptions to help me out, several of which contain precautions that prolonged use “may cause cataracts”. I’m not sure that the wearing of the contacts is the problem, but they definitely encourage and inflame the problems once they start. If I wear my glasses and let my eyes breathe the problems normally work themselves out. The length of time that I have to wear them varies according to how severe I let the problem get before I just wear my glasses.

Obviously the logical answer is that I should just wear my glasses all the time, but simply, I am too vain. I feel frumpy (not to mention sleepy) and underdressed when I wear them, like I’m walking around in pajamas and pretending like I just forgot to get dressed that morning. I salute those of you that have the self-confidence to wear glasses all the time, I don’t have it, and truth be told, I don’t desire it. And I’m not talking about the group that is all cutsie and adorable in glasses with your trendy frames and your thin lenses. I’m talking to the group, like me, that would have been the village idiot 200 years ago, but for the coke bottles they have to wear so you don’t slap up against walls and trip over the edge of carpeting … you know, the lenses that warp the shape of your eye depending on the angle that someone looks at you … those of us with 10+ year old frames because WE can’t afford to continually update our frames and lenses because OUR glasses cost the equivalent of a home theater system.

And right now, I’m having tons of allergy problems and was going through contacts rather quickly … trying to wear newer contacts rather than having to don the frames. Here however, my cheapness has overcome my vanity … that and this time I really don’t want this to escalate to the point that I am caught wearing glasses at my own wedding, so I’ve been wearing my glasses for a couple of weeks and I HATE that in half my vacation photos I look like I was torn from my sheets at the crack of dawn and tossed into a group photo.

And if you are wondering why I don’t have surgery and just have my eyes fixed, send me a check for $4,000 and I’ll consider it.

Sunday Morning I locked myself out of the house before anyone woke up and had to ring the doorbell for 20 minutes

I'm not elaborating more on the title. That's what happened.

Dr. J's mom has been on a kick to teach me Colombian cooking. There's hardly time to learn to cook here since The Cook is always cooking breakfast or lunch. Anyway, today we are learning Arroz con Coco (which I ate a week or so ago at a friends house ... it was love at first site for me) and Arroz con Leche which is a dessert. Both are delicious. Dr. J shivers with delight every time I learn a dish from here.

More importantly, Dr. J's father got sick on Saturday and had to go to the doctor. Not to worry, he's fine. Nothing two pills a day and an inhaler every couple hours can't cure. Anyway, I did not accompany them to the doctor, and Isabel was working and Victoria was playing at a friend's house. And I. Was. Alone.

I watched a 5-hour Marathon of "24" All. By. Myself.

It has literally been months since I was alone. I even have to sleep with my door open here because of the heat. And my March Parents know how difficult this is for me, what with fire safety and all.

If you are like me and have never watched that show before - DUUUUUUDE! It rocks!

Moscas

Everything insect like that has the ability to fly here is referred to as a mosca (fly). If you inquire further, you can come across different names such as mosquitoes, fleas, etc. I’m one of those lucky people that is especially susceptible to the mosquito … I get it ... I’m sweet or different and rather delicious … I’m foreign cuisine. I think most gringos here are attacked by mosquitoes, but I really take it to the next level. I get at least four mosquito bites a day, and that’s down from about six or seven a day. Needless to say, my body has been covered by mosquito bites since the day I arrived, no matter how religious I am with the repellent. I think they like it when I use repellent, then they can bite me anyway, leaving their distinctive red swollen marks the size of the U.S. quarter, and snicker at my pathetic efforts to prevent it.

A couple of days ago the unthinkable happened when a mosca bit me on my face. Right there on the high point of my cheek. And I stomped around irritated about it for a day or so until last night when one bit me on the lip.

The lip.

Isn’t there some sort of unwritten code of agreement that thou mosquito shalt not bite thy prey on thy lip? Or even thy face? It happened while we were watching a movie on TV and luckily it was dark and no one see that the left side of my bottom lip was three times the size of the right. I already stand out enough here without having facial features like botox gone awry.

Missy is the poo

Of all things to show on TV here, last night the movie Bring It On was showing, and since The Dad had gone to bed, Isabel chose it to watch. I wanted to die of embarrassment; first that my country ever made this movie in the first place, and secondly because I think it’s hilarious. Of course, the only things that are funny about it, you can’t appreciate unless you can relate to it in some way and yeah, I think the language is pretty funny, but of course that’s not translated. They only translate the substance of the story line, of which this particular movie is lacking if you were raised in a country that only watches soccer.

The title here is actually a line in the movie that I had forgotten about until last night (or that one of the main characters is named Missy), at which point I nearly peed on myself trying to hold in my laughter. I was rather relieved that they didn’t translate that line (among others) … I’m not sure it would translate with the same tone.

I’m tempted to tell a few of my 8th grade cheerleading stories … particularly our own lame attempt at a competing (needless to say, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into). I only had one year of cheerleading glory days. I was head cheerleader actually. This distinction only privileged me with being the one that shouted “Ready” before every cheer, I truly have no other abilities required of a cheerleader beyond yelling and smiling. Anyway, I’m not sure our miserable failure of a competition would make for interesting reading … they were OH so much better after I “opted out” for the following year. I’m sure they all breathed a sigh of relief.

This little poo needs a nap. And dear God it has gotten so hot here the past few days. Probably God’s way of acclimating me before I return home.

I watch Dawson’s Creek every day.

Yesterday I was overwhelmingly busy and I missed it, but I think that’s been just about the only time. I’ve never before in my life watched Dawson’s Creek and I have no idea what season I’m watching now … perhaps I’ve seen more than one season. Umm … let’s see … Dawson and Joey got together, split up, and got together again, and Andie just moved to … err … Boston? … Pacey was quite sad. Anyway, I really can’t believe that this is part of my daily ritual, but part of my ritual it is. I’ve really been counting my blessings that Dr. J’s family has satellite, there really are some good channels and I’m also more caught up on Lost, CSI, and on the days I have lots of emails to do, I see Gilmore Girls … that one’s for Suze though. Sadly, I still haven’t seen any of the shows that I actually like to watch, and I missed the last two episodes of everything. Mom, please tell me that you still have Scrubs Tivo’d (which reminds me how super it is that I can make just about anything into a verb or an adjective as I see fit)

So I have been here for exactly 5 weeks and have 2 more to go. I’m really enjoying myself and could stay longer, but for the whole I-haven’t-lived-in-the-same-town-as-Dr.-J-for-almost-a-year thing. I’m WAY more rested than I’ve been since … maybe high school. I wake up at 6:30 a.m. every day because, well, actually I have no idea. I guess I’m just done sleeping about that time.

Unrelated to anything: Mom and Dad, please pick me up from the airport with a thermos of unsweetened, freshly brewed, iced tea. (Let’s see if they remember)

Two quick thoughts

Saturday we saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith in the theater. I was surprised it released here the same time as in the US, but it did – yay for me!! Anyway, I’m not sure how GREAT of a movie I think it was, but I did enjoy it. However, 1 hour and 43 minutes spent with Brad in the theater is time well spent. Am I right, ladies, or am I right?

Also, I was thinking. You know how when you look at ancient scribblings on cave walls, papyrus or whatnot the writings look so primitive and basic (this could be just me and no, I haven’t frequented ancient caves, but that’s how imagine them … bear with me) … then I look at Asian lettering and it’s so artistic, creative and detailed. And then our letters are generally nothing more than curved lines and straight lines and combinations there of. So, I wonder if when Asian people, with their aesthetically pleasing letters, look at letters in Romance Languages, if it’s more reminiscent of an archaic pen and wall scribbling … the art of children like me who can produce nothing beyond a stick family, stick trees with circle puff leaves, curly-q-flowers and a circle smiley sun with stick rays.

Anyway, I'm just saying.

Oh how I miss the extremities!

I want nothing more than a glass of freezing cold water or scalding hot coffee. To leave behind the tepid bowl of soup and burn my tongue on a sip that hadn’t yet cooled. To flee the luke-warm plate of rice and take refuge in the blazing hot arms of a steaming casserole. To sit down for lunch with a chilled salad, complete with a smorgasbord of frost covered raw vegetables. To enjoy a cold beer with friends, at a perfect 32 degrees Fahrenheit, held at such a delicious state by a glass mug that had been kept for hours in a deep freezer. To get a brainfreeze from an overzealous gulp of frapuccino.

That and I really miss having an afternoon of television and an entire bag of Doritos all to myself.