I took this picture when I was at the gym. I was using the bathroom - and before you wonder what I'm doing with a camera in the bathroom of my gym, let me explain! I used the bathroom after working out, hence I had my iPod with me which is ALSO my iPhone, which incidentally has a camera.

Anyhoo, I was using the bathroom and there is this sign in the stall and it's to promote the use of this little container from a company called BioWay. The container is for "unmentionables" one my have used in the bathroom - lady supplies, if you will. Or, since a lot of the plumbing in Lat Am countries is not necessarily the most advanced, sometimes you have to throw out your USED (yes used) toilet paper into a waste basket so as to avoid clogging the toilet. The most modern facilities don't really require that type of thing and the most hygienic of facilities will offer these fancy receptacles for throwing out all other types of items one may have used and/or touched during their stay in their bathroom.
The point is, there are these little receptacles that open and close via a sensor. You wave your hand in front of the sensor and it opens to "receive" your trash and then you wave your hand again and it disposes it for you in a bio-hygienic way. Fancy Schmance, right?

But here's what I don't get. Why is Bollywood actress Aishwarya Rai promoting this thing/service/what have you - in Chile?? As far as I know, she isn't all the rage here. I'm pretty sure the likes of Bradley Cooper and Clive Owen are MUCH more popular than Aishwarya Rai amongst Chilean women who are members of a gym in Vitacura. I don't get it.

Further, here's what the actual sign says (my comments follow in red):

Throw away your sanitary napkins, tampons and cotton [Yes it says cotton] in the container.

In using this container, you are:

• Protecting your health [ok, I get that.]
• Avoiding possible infection and contagion. [ok, got that too]
• Maintaining the restroom hygiene [true, true]
• Protecting the environment [Yeah, ok, I'll buy that.]
• Protecting your image as a woman [Scratch record, stop the presses - WHAT?!!!]

Now, I'm not sure if you're really hearing me on this, but pray tell, WHAT does that EVEN mean?? My image as a woman meaning that I'm clean? And if I don't use that receptacle does that mean I'm unclean and therefore tarnishing the image of all women in Chile?? Or worse, all women in the WORLD?
Or are tampons, therefore periods, associated with women and I should really be doing my part in protecting that image by throwing my tampons out there vs. the toilet because due to the faulty plumbing the thing COULD overflow and that would create a mess, which is unclean, therefore I go back to tarnishing a woman's clean image throughout Chile.
I don't even KNOW what to make of that statement or what the message is OR why, of all people, Aishwarya Rai is encouraging me to protect my image as a woman by using this gadget in the bathroom stall!! I mean, what if I don't use it? What if I have NOTHING to throw in there? Or even if I did, and I declare anarchy and refuse to use it - what then??

Whatever. My point here is that I don't like people telling me what to do, especially when I'm in the bathroom. And I ESPECIALLY don't appreciate Miss Bollywood actress over here threatening me that if I don't use the receptacle I'm tarnishing my image as a woman. I'm just sayin.
And if anyone out there has any inkling or even a suggestion as to what the intended message of this sign might be, please enlighten me. Truly. Enlighten me.

I went to buy some medical insurance today... and was told that the insurance sales people make house calls.
How so very 1950s.
So now I'm waiting for him to call me so that we can coordinate a time for him to come to my mom's house, explain my medical coverage options and sell me some insurance - all in the comfort of my own home.
I swear, sometimes it seems like you're living in another decade here in Chile. How can one country have so much technology and modern amenities and at the same time be so old school? I'm intrigued...

In other news: I did get the checking account approved... booya!!!

I'm so sick of this cold.
I can't wear anything but layers upon layers and it's stifling. I feel like the kid in "A Christmas Story" and if I add any more bulk to the lower part of my body, I will soon look like a star fish.

More than half my wardrobe is on it's way to Chile (probably somewhere in the Pacific, floating along outside of Mexico). The other third is on the floor, in suitcases, crumpled beyond recognition. Today I took a shirt out, ironed it, put it on - only to realize it's too cold to be wearing it.

And of all the times I've been to these malls, let me tell you - nothing is jumping out at me saying "BUY ME!! LOOK HOW CUTE I AM!!" Nothing. I've gone through these purchase lulls before but I think that part of my problem here is that I have attitude about the style. I don't think it's Chilean fashion - true fashion, mind you - that I have a holier-than-thou attitude towards but more so, it's the department stores and what THEY carry. It's.All.The.Same. Seriously. It's like going to Nordstrom and just having Brass Plum to choose from --- everywhere!

Ok, granted, I will be the first to point out that I'm no Posh Spice in the wardrobe department and who doesn't need a little fashion help? I most certainly do. And I'm not saying that I have the best wardrobe around, because clearly I don't (hi, Wonder Woman Tshirt, anyone?) I'm also not saying that I incorporate much color into my wardrobe as black, white and gray is pretty much the color palette in my closet. And I should also take into account that I haven't really been anywhere that isn't a mall (no boutiques or small, independent stores) and that I don't know where to find them anyway. Also, I need to remember that more than half my wardrobe - and SHOES - are in the middle of the Pacific right now.

Ok fine. So in the end this wardrobe crisis doesn't come down to Chile being the fashion armpit of South America (not that I know of yet anyway) and it doesn't have anything to do with my own personal style and take on clothes.
It's the cold.
I realized this in Tahoe a few years back - or was it during a dreadful winter in New York City - there really is NO LOOKING CUTE in the winter.
Puffa-lump jacket - it's you and me, ugly together until at least September.
Ugh.

Completed and made it through my first official week living in Chile and I think that the phrase, "You're doing it wrong," borrowed from the movie "Mr. Mom" most adequately sums up my first seven days living in the Southern most Latin American (major) city of the Southern Hemisphere.

In the movie, as the title clearly gives away, Michael Keaton (during his cute years, with prime 80s shag hair) loses his job and at the same time, his usual stay-at-home wife, gets an amazing advertising gig she can't pass up - so she heads to work and he stays home with the kids. The first day he takes the kids to school, he's driving in the wrong direction and just NOT following the instructions that of course all the other moms seem to know. Even his kids repeatedly tell him "Dad you're doing it wrong" and of course Dad doesn't agree with them until he reaches the drop off point and the yard mom introduces herself and confirms "Jack, you're doing it wrong." As the movie progresses of course he begins to GET it and eventually even becomes a yard dad and repeats those same words to another bozo parent who can't grasp the concept of going in one way and out the other when taking kids to and from school.

Here's the thing though, it's not that I actually DID anything wrong. It's just that I did everything with that phrase in my mind because I realized I didn't know HOW simple things were done. You all read about the bank charade and I think that was the only thing that I did (besides driving) where I was clearly messing up left and right.

On Friday night Gonzalo dropped me off at this pub/bar/place - call it what you will - to meet the American woman I mentioned in my first blog entry (wow she's made two cameos already. K if you're reading this, take a bow). Anyway, as I was getting out, I turned to him and asked if it was normal for me to sit there by myself, just in case she hadn't yet arrived. He said yes. Then I asked ok, well is it normal for me to go ahead and order a drink by myself while I wait. Again he said yes. Armed with these confirmations I went in ready to sit down and order my glass of sauvignon blanc and STARE DOWN anyone who made me feel that what I was doing was anything less than normal.
But in the end it wasn't necessary since we arrived within 10 seconds of each other. (In case you're wondering, yes it was fun, yes she was "normal," and yes I got buzzed at happy hour.) Oh and I did also realize that I bring something QUITE valuable to the table here in Chile - US Weekly. Do you know how many hoops one has to go through to get this magazine down here? I'll have about three weeks' worth in the next few days so whatever you do DON'T RUIN IT FOR ME. I'm really sensitive about my US Weekly reading.

Returning to the matter at hand, I accomplished the following things last week:
1). Signed my rental agreement for our apartment (moving in August 1st)
2). Got into the groove of working at home (which, nonetheless, remains odd to me but I'm sure it will grow surprisingly pleasant at some point.)
3). Opened a checking account (personal and business) - I think I did, anyway. You know how that goes.
4). Joined a gym and went for the first time today (similar to Equinox in Palo Alto - super nice - but of course I did the parking thing wrong - oy.)
5). Had date night with my fiancee (that, I think I did right)
6). Learned to turn on the califon all by myself (don't ask!)
7). Drove in Santiago (illegally but carefully.)
8). Spent time with Gonzalo and his family (including his kids).
And today's most triumphant accomplishment:

I realized I had left my $30 lock (kill me now, I bought it at Equinox and before realizing how much it cost!) at my new gym. I remembered that Gonzalo had told me about the equivalent to 411 back home so I dialed it, asked them to connect me to the Sportlife in Vitacura, talked to the person at the front desk and agreed to have them hold it for me until I went tomorrow. All while DRIVING down Holanda street!! Do you have any idea what this accomplishment means??? I had a problem and found a solution - by myself. It truly sounds so simple but I'm sure that each and every one of us, who has found ourselves in a completely different country, where we aren't sure of the norms, has had the memory of doing that FIRST thing all by oneself? Seriously I feel like a baby who located her hand and thumb!

Mr. Mom is a fantastic movie by the way. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. It's Michael Keaton at his best though can't particularly say I'm a huge MK fan. The lines are classic and so fitting. In fact, I'm sure that come six months from now, I'll be using Jack Butler's ol' line in response to "You're doing it wrong." That being:

Don't tell me I'm doing it wrong [Santiago]... I know what I'm doing.

Gonzalo and I had a very nice "date night" last night. The past week has been filled with to-do's (in case you haven't noticed) and so after his doctor's appointment last night (which he needed to do) he says to me "What's next?" What he meant was for me to take out my snazzy new iPhone and under the notes section, find our two separate "To Do" Lists - one is labeled URGENT and one is labeled Dario Urzua, after the street we'll be living on come August 1st. He wanted to know what else we could accomplish that evening from one of the lists.

I was NOT about to make another trip to Parque Arauco (the mall) as I have been there about four times this week, AND FURTHER, had been there earlier that day to get my engagement ring back. So I says to him, I says: "No hagamos nada." (Let's do nothing.) He's Mr. Efficient and Thorough so I do believe that his brain might have short circuited for a second but he pulled through in time to partake in our first official date night out in Santiago (since I moved here, that is.)

Now, if you're anything like me, you might have been a mermaid or a walrus in your past life. (Sometimes I think I still am THE WALRUS, but that's neither here nor there). I know this sounds like a really silly thing to say but what I'm trying to express is that I LOVE SEAFOOD. All of it, any and all kinds of sea creatures, are yummy yummy for my tummy. And in Chile they have this plate at most seafood restaurants called Machas a la Parmesana (razor clams au gratin) and I'm OBSESSED with it. OBSESSED. I do believe that my real motivation for moving here was the seafood, namely - this dish. And so my lovely fiancee took me to dinner at a seafood restaurant that cost an arm and a leg (un ojo de la cara y la mitad del otro, as one might say here in Chilsters). That was a lovely time though the waiters there are such sales people that they are constantly pushing more food on you!

Gonzalo: "We'd like to order the Machas a la Parmesana"
Waiter: "Can I offer you an additional appetizer? Perhaps garlic prawns? Or if you're so inclined a salad? We could make you a nice tomato and onion salad, or perhaps simple lettuce with hearts of palm? The machas a la parmesana really is a small plate; you should consider a second appetizer."
So obviously we ordered another appetizer. The one plate really was too small. He was right. Those waiters always know how to sell more food, don't they?

After dinner we made our way in the 41 degree (F) temperature over to the fancy schmance new W Hotel. We've all been to W's, some of us to W's around the world, and so in terms of ambiance, the W Santiago is just another hotel in a long list of modern/minimalist/urban hotel chains that are targeting either the nouveau riche or the over 50-mid-life-crisis crowd (and the usual business traveler who wants the hotel to be the same place where he parties and then expenses it, calling it a "Business dinner").

And on that note, the one thing that I've found to be quite consistent at all W's is the bar. Always techno-musickey-plush-covered-candle-lit-weird-lamps-in-the-corner kind of place and everyone who works there wears black. And have names like Natalia. Which incidentally was the name of the nice young woman who took our orders on the plushy sofa.

We went with her suggestion first: W's variation on the pisco sour and mojito, followed by the traditional version of the two. They were delish of course but OMG can we discuss the prices?? Gonzalo and I each had 2 drinks and I paid the equivalent of $45 USD for all four drinks. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're saying "Dre, that's normal, since when are you about to pass out from ONE $11 drink?" UM HELLO!!! I'm in Chile!!! Why does a drink cost the same here as it does back home?? Pray tell and why was the place packed with people all paying between $11 and $15 a drink??

But, it's what you get at any W and I'm glad to see that Santiago's W isn't about to be the black sheep of the Sheraton family by charging any less than its counterparts. Way to show 'em how posh Santiago can be.

We had a nice time though and as usual, I'm so grateful to be in a relationship where we can sit at the W and make fun of the foofy drinks that costs un ojo de la cara y la mitad del otro, and then sit at home the following night drinking glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge (which no doubt cost less than $7).

Keep a look out for the blog on the budget version of date night which will consist of a hot dog and beer for dinner and sitting in a plaza people watching!! We've actually done that before, but substituting the hot dog for ice cream. Good times Chilean Style!

Labels: Date night

Should you be so inclined to open a checking account at Banco de Chile any time in the near future, here's what I learned today:
1) get a co-signer who makes a lot of money. Trust me, you'll need it. Banco de Chile doesn't really want you without any "economic history." If they sit down with you otherwise, they're clearly doing you a favor.
2) practice filling out applications. Go to the local Starbucks and McDonald's and just load up on employment applications. Practice, practice, practice! It's the only way you won't mess up an 8-10 page application when the time comes.
3) draw rows and rows of boxes, about three inches wide by 1.5 inches tall. Sign inside each box WITHOUT letting your signature touch any of the lines. It's harder than you think!!
4) Make sure your signature always matches the one on your official ID. If you're a Smith, then be a Smith! Not a Gonali like me.


So Gonzalo came to pick me up at lunch today to take me to the bank so that we could open a joint checking account and so that I could also open a business account for my consulting gig. An important step in starting your new life in a different country. Access and mode of management for one's minor duckets.

The cool thing about banks in Chile is that everyone has an account executive designated to you, your account and your money. You always have this person's direct line, email address and whatever branch you open your account at, you have the option to make the person who opened the account your designated banker. In short, personalized attention in a way that is most often seen only in high net worth individual banking back at home.

Except the not so cool part about banks in Chile...all kinds of paperwork to fill out when opening the account. Though I think that I probably had more than the average amount due to the fact that not only was I opening TWO accounts, but that I have no "economic history" in Chile, therefore Gonzalo had to serve as my account's "co-signer." Yeah I said it: a co-signer. The same kind you need in order to buy a house, or a car or even rent an apt sometimes. You know, BIG stuff.

Quite contrary to what I've always known. In the U.S. anyone and everyone can open a checking account - it's like a right of passage. You get your senior year high school yearbook, you get your checking account. Here it's like applying for admission into MENSA; all kinds of hurdles to overcome, constantly having to provide examples of how utterly amazing you are and what an upstanding citizen you've been --> and THEN they tell you whether or not you are accepted. In fact, I don't even know if I'll get accepted for this said checking account but I very well hope so after all the crap I had to sign AND provide a thumbprint for!! Everything I signed, needed a thumbprint. Then they took pictures of us to send in with our paperwork!!

But wait - there's more!

Gonzalo: "Why are we signing this insurance document without a price detailed on it?" [mind you I need insurance to get a credit card.]
AE: "You are signing an insurance document without a price detailed on it. Why? Because your credit limit can fluctuate between one point in time to the next."
I kid you not, that's how he spoke. He repeated the question, but first framed it as a statement, followed by "porque?" and then followed THAT with the answer.

Really? Is that how we talk in Banco de Chile? That's how we talk in Banco de Chile. Why? Because they're old school I guess.

The most stressful part of this whole process was actually FILLING OUT the paperwork. Not exaggerating - this was full on S.A.T. stylie. Adding to the pressure, you couldn't make a mistake. Like, at all. I made ONE mistake, scratched it out and Gonzalo FREAKED out at me "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!!"

Apparently scratching ANYTHING out (or "altering" as the AE said) voids the entire application. Oooooookay. Start over, new application. If I were writing a Judy Blume book, this is how I would best describe what was going through my mind as I was RE-filling out the application.... "Are you there God? It's me, Andrea. I'm really nervous, God, and feel like all I really need in this world to be totally happy is this one little checking account... so many other girls have one, God. When will it be MY turn? When? Please God, don't let me mess this application up again ..."

In the end, I made it through the application without any mistakes but I don't recall having ever been so meticulous about writing since my 2nd grade cursive test. Those few pages took me about 30 minutes to fill out... maybe more. I'll never know. I was too stressed out to consider the time.

So yeah, and then we had to sign more and more papers, all containing little signature boxes which weren't allowed to have one millimeter of our signatures touching its lines. Gonzalo failed that and had to do it over. Apparently he has a really tall signature and he couldn't contain it in the box. It's hard stuff signing inside the box and not touching the lines. Banco de Chile doesn't mess around!

In the end it WOULD SEEM that the AE was satisfied with our applications, signatures, ability to stay within the box and ability to not F-up my penmanship the second time around. Thus, our paperwork should be on its way to the main branch. Before it was all over however, the AE asked me "Do the signatures on these forms match the signature on your I.D.?" And for the first time in my life I was paranoid that my signatures didn't match. I noticed that on my Chilean I.D. I don't write out the second "Z" in Gonzalez and that on it, my last name really looks like it's Gonali. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if my credit and debit cards came in the mail with Andrea Gonali on them. Banco de Chile would of course claim it was my fault. What, with bad penmanship and all.

To summarize:
Getting a checking account in Chile is a bitch and a half. Getting one through Banco de Chile is like pledging a sorority that doesn't really like you and convinces you that you'll NEVER get in. But even if you do, it's most likely because you slipped through the cracks and someone wasn't doing their job. Only time will tell if I'm in, you guys. I'll keep you posted.

me: I really like that term, I hear you barking

Labels: Amanda, friends

So I FINALLY made it to Chile and I have to apologize to all you "true" followers out there (all, like, five of you). For some mysterious reason, I was completely locked out of anything related to Google (i.e. gmail and blogger) for TWO WHOLE DAYS! Thus I couldn't really check my email and most definitely couldn't blog. And trust you me, I have much to blog about.

First of all - can it be ANY COLDER??!! It's literally 45 degrees here and I'm not talking Celsius. It does not get any warmer. And further, no matter how modern the house and/or apartment, it seems that the heat here just refuses to work! You literally have to have these old school gas heaters - the kind you buy at the store and set up in the middle of the room so that it can radiate its toxic chemicals through the air and at the same time bring much needed warmth to all households. Also - side note - the heater is sold separately from the actual gas. You have to call the gas company to have them deliver the tank of gas you then connect to the heater for the aforementioned toxic warmth. That, or you have to pay like a GAZILLION dollars to get one of these said Toyotomi heaters, which, apparently, are ALL the rage here in Chile. Naturally, Gonzalo and I agree that it's a must-have for our apartment which we move in to August 1st.

Secondly, there are people EVERYWHERE. And all they do is shop - shop for bread, shop for clothes, shop for meat or wine. It doesn't matter - they're just everywhere and they shop NONSTOP. I know this because in the last two days I myself have been to the mall twice and to Jumbo (the large supermarket chain, quite adequately named) twice. Seriously no matter where I put my cart so that I could survey a particular aisle, I was in someone's way. Or they were in my way. Or they just crossed in front of me with no regard to me and the space I was inhabiting. Walking through the mall (Parque Arauco) is like playing Frogger. Dodging people (sometimes cars) is the name of the game.

And don't get me started on how people drive... three words on that: Pick a lane!
(Though I'm currently driving without a license so who am I to criticize, you know?)

Speaking of driving - I bet you're wondering right now: "Dre, what, pray tell, are you driving? You don't have a car! Remember, you sold it to that nice, young couple from Mountain View?" Why yes, dear avid blog follower (one of five), I do remember I sold my car to that nice young couple. I remember because I was a carless hobo for the remaining month I had in MP before my Chilean departure (btw, thanks for that reminder). However, let ME remind YOU just how lucky I am to have someone like Gonzalo in my life (ADORE him!)... he mentioned having a "surprise" for me when I arrived in Chile. Put two and two together and I will simply provide this lovely image.

The cherry on top was the GPS which is about 85% accurate but that'll do for now. Sometimes it tells me to turn left where I'm not supposed to so I have to keep an eye out for that because it could create all kinds of scary. Other times it kind of gets into a frenzy and tells me it's "recalculating" over and over again. It usually does that when I'm driving and so I have to go REALLLLY SLOWLY to allow time for this recalculation. Today I got lost because the GPS told me to make a left where it wasn't allowed. I spent the next twenty minutes making rights after rights in order to get on the correct street. I don't recall anyone ever saying that driving in Latin America would be easy. I'm not about to state the contrary either.

Finally, a few tidbits on daily life in Santiago:

• Banks close at 2 p.m. every day and when they're open, there is usually a line out the door. I can't even begin to understand why this is when everything in Chile is either paid online or in person. Why are so many people at the bank??!!
• Notaries are apparently a BIG DEAL. Whereas I remember getting something notarized at like Mail Boxes Etc by some franchise owner with a friendly belly hanging on the counter, in Chile the Notary is like the Godfather. He usually has his own office bldg or space and he has lots of people working for him to collect all items that need to be notarized. Then his peeps go somewhere behind the scenes to get his signature and stamp. I've never actually SEEN a notary the few times I've gotten documents notarized thus adding to this Wizard of Oz kind of stigma they hold in my mind. I feel like one of them is going to come out in a gangster suit, smoking a cigar telling me to leave the documents (as opposed to the gun) and to try the cannoli. Like I said, apparently they're a big deal. Who knew?
• Bread. Bread is integral to the daily diet of a Chilean. They're all about tea time (or "once" as it's called here) and it's all about the bread. Which is good, mind you, but nothing like a warm piece of sourdough.
  
• The Andes Mountains are beautiful and just like the Pisco Sours, I feel like Chileans don't enjoy it/them as much as they should. I'm new here so I'm taking it/them constantly. Hmmm...good thing I'm not taking in the Pisco Sours WHILE in the Andes... the altitude mixed with the alcohol makes me CRAZY!

P.S. - Gonzalo rocks for always accompanying me with a Pisco Sour, even though I'm sure he'd much rather be drinking rum (or "ron" as they call it here) and coke. Oh schnookums... don't ever be so fabulous! :o)

UPDATE: I wrote this yesterday, not thinking I’d have time to hit a wifi’d coffee shop anytime soon. Clearly, I did have time but thought I’d share yesterday’s insight today, as opposed to waiting until the weekend.

*********************************************

God forced me into solitude my last two days in California. And I think I know why. Or maybe I’m being superstitious and paranoid, in the usual manner of Catholics. If I am, so be it, but I did learn my lesson. Here’s the lesson = don’t gloat, Andrea!!

I was actually writing a new blog entry dedicated to patting myself on the back (I kid you not, I used that term in the blog) about getting a US based phone number via Skype so that my friends could call me without incurring some astronomical charges. They aren’t the most inclined to download Skype to make calls either so I thought this was an AMAZING doing on my behalf and I literally felt like I was a technological bad ass. I even said so various times in my blog. I used terms like “Jetsons” and “Bionic Woman” all because I got this number set up (something anyone can do, mind you.) In the simplest terms, I thought I was the cybernetic s*@t.

When all of a sudden my stupid Internet went out. Ok, no big deal since every once in a while my wireless will have a hiccup and I thought it was just that, but - oh, no – it was the incompetents at Comcast. The dumb bastards got my disconnection request date mixed up and they canceled my service two days before they were supposed to do so. A. Whole. Two. Days.

Long story short and three service assistants later, basically I was told that they were “sorry” and that it was “our fault” and that a service technician could come out to my house between 6-8 p.m. the next day. THE NEXT DAY??!! As in the day before I hop on a plane and get the hell out of dodge?? As in the day that I am out most of the day doing last minute errands and then out at night due to a goodbye dinner?? As in I-need-internet-at-this-very-second-not-at-the-end-of-the-day-tomorrow-the-day-before-I-leave??? “Yes, tomorrow. We’re very sorry ma’am.”

And click.

So here I am, in my “bedroom” which is outside of my empty living room (if you have Facebook, you’ve seen my pics of that by now), sitting on the floor on my inflatable Eddie Bauer mattress (with a stomach ache, mind you) feeling sorry for my dis-conectivity and kind of thinking it’s funny and most ironic that I was here about three hours ago, gloating away about how connected I was going to be and – ta-da!! – no Internet so as TO BE connected. Oh life! You are SO funny sometimes.

And I’m also thinking that it’s kind of a trip that the next few blog entries I write will be POSTED under ONE entry, probably with Saturday or Sunday’s date stamp. I’ll be in Chile by then! So they’ll have a present stamp but have a tone of the past. And that means the tenses are going to be all wrong and grammatically incorrect. But that’s the undercover nerd in me speaking and not to mention, six of one and half a dozen of another. Do you see? If I were really a technological bad ass I wouldn’t have this upcoming past/present tense situation to contend with!! In the end, I guess I learned that I should keep my tekkie self in check and that I shouldn’t gloat about my slowly evolving world domination via Skype!

Labels: email, happy hour, VIZ

I took a hiatus from my new blog project after only two entries. Is that normal? I was out of commish for a few due the aforementioned bachelorette party (which, incidentally, was a roaring success) but since there are only five days left before my life gets shaken up like a snow globe, I had to high tail it back to MP to continue the packing escapade. my old apartment in this field of boxes. And don't even get me started on my "bedroom." Let's just say that all I'm missing in order to make this a full CAMP OUT, is the tent. Though this twin sized Eddie Bauer inflatable mattress is proving to be quite handy right now and sure as hell beats sleeping on the floor for the next five nights. I digress from complaining about Camp Dre's Nekkid Apartment.

I'm looking forward to my last fun-filled weekend as a full fledged California resident: a bachelorette party for my friend C, who is getting married this coming August. Her sister organized the bulk of it - cruise stylie with events, outings and meals planned - at this amazing house in Sonoma County. Can't wait to go, even if my tan from my trip to Playa del Carmen is fading (while I perceive myself to be "white" my real "white" friends find me to be quite dark!)There is nothing I enjoy more than celebrating my friends and in this case, I am so happy to be there, given that in TWELVE DAYS, I'm leaving for Santiago. Can we say a Charlie Brown style "Ack!!!??"

Labels: California, Road Trips

I literally just spent about an hour freaking out on skype with Gonzalo about not being able to find "American" friends in Chile...what if I NEVER find someone who GETS "I totally paused" or "I can't believe this, they f*^king forgot my birthday?" Call me crazy, but this kind of understanding among my social networks is CRUCIAL to me.

Labels: apartment, expats, move