OK, here’s the thing: nothing all that interesting has happened since my last post, but I suck at journaling & am starting to feel the need for documentation of the daily in & outs of my time here, so I’m contemplating updating this weekly regardless. Which basically sounds like quantity over quality for my own personal benefit now that I type that out. What a considerate blogger I am 🙂 I guess then take this as fair warning that while you are obviously more than welcome to keep keeping up with me, I will likely start devoting some time to the more mundane though memorable aspects of my life here.
And with that I would like to take a moment to discuss my shower. One might think that not having a boyfriend for two years, while not ideal on the spider-killing front, would at least make painful relationship analyzing conversations unnecessary. Unfortunately, one would be wrong. I have these heartfelt, frustrating, slightly confrontational talks (in my head) with my shower every time I feel the need to wash up. Already freezing & vulnerable, I step in & must brace myself for either a face meltingly hot or goosebump inducing cold trickle (definitely not to be mistaken for a spray) of water depending on his mood & am immediately filled with the need to discuss our ‘situation’. The Talk usually goes something like…
Listen, I don’t want to be ungrateful. I know that a lot of people wish they had someone (OK, thing) like you & I was so happy when you came into my life last March, but this is getting ridiculous. I just don’t understand why you insist on making things difficult (a.k.a. drastically changing the water pressure & temperature at your every whim). Is it something I’ve done? I feel like I’ve made a lot of effort (carefully adjusting the hot & cold dials like a mad scientist) & have tried to be sensitive (barely touching each dial to avoid a 20 degree drop or rise in the temperature), but sometimes I think you actually enjoy making me upset (randomly blasting freezing cold water after I’ve managed to find a slightly comfortable balance). I hate to say it, but I don’t even like being around you anymore (hence the 1-2 day gap between my visits).
We’re about to the point in a real relationship where I’d bail, but unfortunately singleness in this analogy equates to bucket bathing, so I think I’ll stay by my man until November when I plan to drop him hard. And for a foreigner no less. That’ll hurt. On the plus side, like many a dysfunctional relationship the rare moments when all is well (i.e. pleasantly hot water strong enough to actually rinse the conditioner out of my hair is delivered) my confidence is completely restored & I’m convinced that putting up with another day or two of bad behavior is worth it in the long run. Have I mentioned that living alone makes me weird?
Other non-news of the week has included my feeble attempt at running. There’s a 1oK run/wine festival event at the end of the month out west on the border of Hungary that a bunch of my friends are going to & this is not the time to have regrets so I’m trying to get in shape for it. My friend from training (Julia, who b.t.w. ran track at the University of Wisconsin) did it last year & had a blast & I have yet to really see the mountains so I think it’s a worthy goal. My lungs however disagree quite violently. I am obnoxiously bad at running & have provided the neighborhood kids with all kinds of entertainment as my face turns from pale to various unnatural shades of magenta over the course of an hour, but thanks largely to Sean Kingston & Drake I think I can keep going. I want to express my deep gratitude to them as the only thing that prevents me from walking but sending a thank-you card probably wouldn’t get me any street cred in the rap world, which you know is very important to me.
I’m still loving school. My students are adorable & I wish I wrote about them more on here because they do play such a big role in my happiness, but most of the stories seem a little guess-you-had-to-be-there when I retell them. Suffice it to say they continue to find ways to make me crack up in the middle of lessons on a daily basis, like when one of the cute 10th grade girls that I tutor told me her favorite movie is “Hey guy, where is my car?” (Dude, where’s my car). The teachers also moved further into my heart this week by taking such care of me when I had a touch of the stomach flu. Immediately upon noticing my coloring I was sent home with strict instructions to rest & given a bag of fresh mint leaves to boil with lemon as a very effective Gatorade replacement. They’ve started asking me if I’m sure that I don’t want to stay past November & while my answer is a confident 185% sure I certainly do appreciate them & will miss everyone dearly. But not for 7 & a half more months 🙂