little tidbits...

We didn't have gas for about 3 weeks. One of those weeks I was trying to figure out why the gas didn't work (did a connection in back get rattled?), then, after realizing that I actually had to apply for gas utilities (I'm new to this: all my previous gas expenses have been included in the rent), it took two weeks for the gas people (that's actually the company's name) to decide to come visit our apartment. And there is only one gas company that serves my apartment building, so it wasn't like I could play the free market - pulling the dissatisfied 'I'm going to a different company' customer card.

Anyway, so when we finally got gas, after three weeks of beans in the crock pot, scrambled (or should I say nuked) eggs in the microwave, and instant potatoes in a coffee-maker (no we don't drink coffee, but the device was very useful when faced without a stove or oven for three weeks), what was my celebratory first-day-of-gas dinner?

Hard-boiled eggs.

I guess I forgot how to cook in those three weeks...

Another random tidbit: Thanks to some good friends, McDreamy and I have a couch. This may seem strange, but in our entire married life (4 1/2 lovely years now) we have never had a real couch - we had a futon for two years, and a few bamboo chairs the following two years, but never had a nice, fluffy, lay-all-the-way-down-while-you-snuggle-watching-a-movie actual COUCH!

It is a bit exciting. Our celebration for this new addition was much more exciting than my first-day-of-gas meal: we cuddled and watched a movie.

Well at least half of the movie.

I got hot and he fell asleep.

So maybe we're getting boring? Oh well...at least we're happy! And we have since had many a fantastic gas-cooked meal, as well as a number of nice couch-used evenings.

Fahrenheit 451

It never fails to amaze me. 

I clumsily wrench my stroller onto the brown line, the station one block west and one block south of our little first floor, one bedroom apartment, with a child bursting to everyone around about the twain! and the zoo! and the zebas! and the graffes! and the elphants! and...nobody even looks at him. One middle-aged woman might crack a smile for a split second, asking politely what his name is and his age, but then it's back to the device: ipod, ipad, iphone. The key is 'I'. Not you, us, we. I. 

We didn't have internet for a few days, and, being new to the city, I have been unable to get a library card - apparently here the desire to read is not as important as a proof of address. I feel sorry for the homeless bums - surely a library subscription could give them something more meaningful to do than just sit all day on the sidewalk begging or spewing crazy words out as you pass by. Anyway, this lack of ability to research articles online or read books on my bed during my sons nap time became very draining. With nothing to read, nothing to research, and no way of communicating during two hours everyday, I became a scrapbook fiend - a ritual I save only for Sunday, usually, and a routine with which I quickly became bored. I love scrapbooking. I enjoy reliving each memory as I paste it, ceremoniously, into an aesthetically pleasing design and jot a few shallow thoughts and feelings of the events illustrated. But doing two mindless pages a day every day, when I am used to only doing one a week, was simply too much. I became frantic: my mind begged for stimulation. I ran to the local thrift store and bought the first interesting looking book I saw. Two pages into it, I realized it was drab unworthy of even returning to the thrift and threw every last 25 cents of it into the trash. I normally treasure my quarters, as they are vital to my weekly laundry procedure, but that quarter was the slimiest, low moral quarter I'd ever read. 

So then I was back to where I started, back at the discount village, scanning the aisles of books, this time more carefully - more prejudiced. I found multiple titles I was sure were good - books on old AP literature lists, whose prose have stood the test of time. 

And I found Fahrenheit 451.  

I believe Ray Bradbury was inspired.

White seashell ear thimbles, he calls them - stuck in everyone's ears, droning music and programs, and making everyone excellent lip-readers. Parlor walls - which aren't walls, actually, but huge TV screens, which people watch together, and whose friendships and discussions are based solely on those shows. And school classes completely done via video screen - no actual discussion, just virtual interaction. 

All of these things, he illustrates in his book, have pulled the humanity out of people, shifted us from being social, interactive people, to being consumed in ourselves. We are so busy 'talking' on our phones and laptops and social networks, that we forget to talk to the real people in front of us, on the train. We are so plugged into our various TV programs, that all we have to talk about is what happened on those shows. And we are so plugged into our various music devices that we can only lip-read. We don't actually listen to each other anymore.

We are a society so 'connected' that we have become completely disconnected from each other. And Ray Bradbury foreshadowed it all 60 years ago, during "I Love Lucy" and the Cleaver times. 

I can't help but wonder when the wide-spread book burning will occur... 

 

life...

Life is expensive. They say money won’t buy you happiness, which I would agree with, for sure…but I feel like it could be extremely useful when life turns its ugly side on you: namely when you get a parking ticket for $50, because of ‘street cleaning’ on a street that doesn’t look any different after the alleged ‘cleaning day’, or a renewal of registration for your car (which – by the way – you JUST registered 4 months ago when you came back into the states, and the only reason for this renewal is because it is your birthday. Some birthday gift, huh? I like Baskin Robbins’s gift a bit better…). Oh, and another soon-to-be ticket because the yellow lights here are so stinking fast that you ran a red light – completely on accident – and saw the little light flicker, and are sure your little yellow cabby car now has a terrible mug shot plastered on some greasy light-patrolling security officials screen. You would think this city has it out for our poor little yellow skittle. Parking tickets, registration, too-fast-of-yellow-lights…it’s enough to make you want to move back to Bonaire!  No lights, no parking tickets…of course I guess even there you can’t get out of registration…but regardless…it all comes down to money. And money sure does disappear fast here it seems…rent, that used to be $400, including all utilities, is now $870, excluding utilities.  Transportation which was $20-40 per month, depending on whether it was a school break time or not, has now become over $100 – regardless of using a car or the all-exalted public transit.

Food, however, is cheaper, thanks to a good friend named Aldi’s – oh Aldi’s, how I love thy 99 cent generic brand oreo’s as well as thy similarly priced pound of strawberries. You make me feel like it is somehow possible to make this budget work…

Of course, there are the free things here, which make life, in general, much happier – like the River Park swimming pool and water park across the street, with free toddler swimming right before Bronsito’s nap – the perfect way to tucker him out and ensure a full two hours of ‘me’ time, as well as the free zoo and free children’s museum (on Thursday nights!) across town. All make for a happy toddler, and thus, a happy mom (yes – you’ve heard the phrase, if mom ain’t happy ain’t no one happy – well in my house, if child ain’t happy, ain’t no mom happy). And, our apartment, though more expensive, is much bigger, allowing McDreamy to study here, rather than at the school, which also makes for a happier mom…

And at least I’m here with my husband and son, rather than working full time in Georgia, with Bronsito in Day Care, and my McDreamy here alone. That definitely makes everyone happier. Much happier!

So, I guess it’s true: money doesn’t buy happiness. We’re as poor as dirt, with a city out to get our poor little skittle car, but we’re together, and we’re happy. So, I guess I can take this blog entry as a lesson: before I start counting my challenges, I have to count my blessings: regardless of money, I have my wonderful, hard-working McDreamy, and my full-of-life, abc-singing Bronsito. What else could I want? Well, besides the mug-shot of my poor car erased….