The bodacious-ness of movie lines and quotes

I realized I was on to something with a portion of yesterday’s Thanksgiving Day post. While listing all the main things I was forever thankful for, I mentioned random and not so random movie quotes that allow me to partake in some verbal movie quote vomiting on a regular basis. But OBVIOUSLY that one little paragraph hardly did this topic justice!! Half of my vocabulary and means of expressing myself can be directly attributed to movies and the skillful writers who pen the most brilliant of lines.

And so, presently, it’s my great pleasure to give you a list of my most used and/or most favorite movie lines or dialogues I can think of…(by all means, please share ones you feel are equally as relevant. I may be missing out on some key phrases in life!!)

“I just want them to know that they didn’t break me.”

“There’s a rhythmic ceremonial ritual coming up.”

“Life is not whatnot, and it’s none of your business.”

“Sofa City, Sweetheart!”

“And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life… You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure. But don’t worry… you will someday.”

“You wanna know what happened? Buy the book!”

“Nobody puts Baby in the corner.”

“Marie de Salle’s playing. You remember I told you about her. I like her. She’s kind of Sheryl Crow-ish crossed with a post-Partridge Family pre-L.A. Law Susan Dey kind of thing, but, you know, uh, black.”

“You’re an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, well, you’re a liar too.”

“Suddenly a dark cloud settled over first period… “

“You can dere-lick my balls cap-E-tan.”

“Allow myself to introduce… myself!”

“A man with priorities so far out of whack doesn’t deserve such a fine automobile.”

“His name is Blane? Oh! That’s a major appliance, that’s not a name!”

“I NOT A MEXICAN!!”

“I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!”

“Todd! Are you not aware that I get farty and bloated with a foamy latte?”

“Last night, Darth Vader came down from planet Vulcan and told me that if I didn’t take Lorraine out that he’d melt my brain.”

“This is my dance space. This is your dance space.”

“A eugoogoolizer… one who speaks at funerals…Or did you think I was too stupid to know what a eugoogooly was?”

“Why must I be surrounded by frickin’ idiots?”

“Do you think I’d speak for you? I don’t even know your language.”

“Phat! Did you write that?”

“My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.”

“Was I the only one listening?I thought it reeked.”

“Nice ma- nice manners, babe.”

“That was way harsh, Tai.”

“Games, Jake. Silly torturous games.”

“There’s that word again; “heavy”. Why are things so heavy in the future? Is there a problem with the earth’s gravitational pull?”

“Tell me the part about Kenny G again?”

“Would you guys please hurry up, I’m breaking like 30 major laws here.”

“I’m Farmer Ted.”

“Darling is something bothering you? …you’re acting like… an a**hole.”

“That’s a Cosby sweater.”

“This isn’t life, it’s just stuff. And it’s become more important to you than living. Well, honey, that’s just nuts.”

“He is totally enamored of me. I mean, I’ve had other men love me before, but not for six months in a row.”

“Charlie, you f*cking bitch. Let’s work it out.”

Nicholas Angel: You’re a doctor, deal with it!
Danny Butterman: Yeah, motherf*&ker!”

“I quote John Lennon, “I don’t believe in Beatles, I just believe in me.” Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus. I’d still have to bum rides off people.”

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t even have a piece of shit. I have to envy yours.”

“I rule!”

Oh (this is me talking now, not referring to a movie)… I also like that part at the end of Dirty Dancing when they finally get the lift right.

Good times!

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A pictorial look at things I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving

It’s officially Thanksgiving and here it feels (and actually IS) like any other day, so it’s hard for me to tell that the holiday season is approaching. I miss that holiday feeling that Thanksgiving initiates for us Americans and I’ll certainly miss the preparatory traditions as the countdown to the 24th of December begins. Sad.

Nonetheless, I woke up this morning and held Thanksgiving day close to me and remembered all the things I’m forever grateful for…In no particular order, mind you:

Quirky television shows that are so amazing, that they fly over people’s heads and are canceled after about three seasons (or less)

and

and

Random (or perhaps not so random) movies and the ridiculously funny writing that encourages me to constantly vomit movie quotes (ok, so no pics associated with this piece of the world I’m grateful for, but you get it anyway, right?)

“I was surfing the crimson wave. I had to haul ass to the ladies’.”

“Donger’s here for five hours, and he’s got somebody. I live here my whole life, and I’m like a disease.”

“It’s that damn Hansel! He’s so hot right now!”

“Yes. Yes, I did it. I killed Yvette. I hated her, so much… it-it- the f – it -flam – flames. Flames, on the side of my face, breathing-breathl- heaving breaths. Heaving breath…”

(Seriously I could go on and on and on…)

Pil
She drives me crazy and has a tendency for the overly dramatic, but my mom is nothing short of awesome.



Tio Pato

My mother has four brothers and one sister, but my Tio Pato is the one I grew up with in CA and since I never grew up with a father, he was the closest thing I had to a father figure. And he rocks. When I was little (as in 4) he used to tell me to just call him Pato. Errrr … it always confused me bc he insisted so much. Needless to say, I never really caught on to that. He also taught me things like “Portate mal para que lo pases bien” (Be bad so you make sure to have a good time.) Priceless, just like him.

Chile
Yes I have all kinds of complaints about my new home but I attribute that to not really getting how things work here (yet). I had/have a lot of complaints about San Francisco too, believe it or not (namely the weather). But Chile is a beautiful country and I live a great life here. Yeah I’m in Latin America and by default that comes along with all the frustrations you can assume are associated with it, but it genuinely has so much to offer and I’m thankful to live here (as opposed to, say, Caracas.) Note that the pic below truly is how Santiago looks…see? You can totally outline the smog.



Shannon

Sweet, dear, chocolate-covered Shannon. I TRULY love all my friends but this year I have to give a special Thanksgiving Day shout out to my BFF of 18 years. In my entire life, I can count on one hand the people that have shown the amount of strength and integrity she has shown. Despite personal hardships that would have the rest of us clawing at the ground, she’s held her head high throughout so much this year AND HAS STILL managed to be a good friend to me (despite distance) and be an amazing maid of honor at that as well! I’m thankful for her and that’s the simplest of truths. (yes I purposely chose the most hideous picture of us bc that makes it funny.)



My old friends back home…

Krellis, Cor, Mands, JoJo Bean and Lor (among so many others.) I’m thankful for you and the way each one is so completely different from the other one. I’m grateful that they have chosen to be my friends and have accepted my friendship. And now in life, I’m grateful that they keep me connected to my life in the U.S. because they take the time to share with me, despite the distance.




…and the Gringa friends I’ve met here

My life in Chile would be 1) depressing and 2) boring if it weren’t for the great women I’ve met here. Some will stay on for a while and some will be leaving to continue their lives back in the U.S. Even if I’ve met you for a second, we hang out all the time, or I’ve yet to meet you and become friends, I truly am thankful for the other “Gringuitas” that are here (who else am I suppose to speak Spanglish with and totally GET it???!!)

VIZ, my job, and the faith that my coworkers have in me. Three cheers and long live Japanese animation and comics! :o)
Cheesy? Definitely. But am I wrong for being awesomely grateful for being able to work in something I know and love given that I live on the other end of the world? I don’t think so.

And though there are so many other things I’m thankful for (my health, the health of those around me, the opportunities I have to travel, the ability to speak two languages fluently, Mexican food, ceviche, pisco sours and wine, to name but a few) I’ve come to the end of this blog entry.

To conclude the list of things I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving, I give mad, thankful props to my sweet Gonzalo… and my life with him … and our fabulous, “grown up” apartment…and our wedding planning … and the way he makes every little moment about life seem rainbow colored…

Thank you for Gonzalo …

and Gonzalo …

and Gonzalo …

And DUH! Thanks to you for reading my blog!

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Why I hate Lan Chile

This dumb airline has been the biggest thorn in my side since moving to Chile. LONG GONE are the days of safe, reliable and feasible commercial flight alternatives such as Southwest, Jet Blue and Virgin.

Sure, there’s random airlines like Sky, but they certainly don’t get me where I want to go most of the time (namely outside of Santiago.) Southwest and the other airlines I mentioned didn’t do that either but at least they gave me options to get to ANOTHER major city, where, nine times out of ten, there would be some option for a larger carrier taking me out of the country.

Here’s the thing about LAN:

1) it’s basically the ONLY real option in Chile for national and ESPECIALLY international travel. Thus, they’re basically a monopoly. That means their prices are always the most expensive. And since there are usually lack of other options, you are forced to pay exuberant prices.

2) they have the worst – THE WORST – online customer experience EVER. 8 times out of 10, you can’t accomplish ANYTHING on the dumb site and when you call to figure it out with an actual person, they want to charge you for not having used their site in the first place.

3) their award travel is ridiculously hard to redeem and forget about MOLDING it into what you might need … if you want to book a one-way flight anywhere, you simply can’t. It will automatically charge you for an Round Trip flight, no matter what. Whereas American let’s you do whatever the hell you please, so long as you have the miles to do it and if not, the $$$ to buy the miles to do it.

4) The flight attendants are stiff and overly made up. It’s like talking to Mormon’s and watching them flinch when you say something they don’t like. They may bat their eyelashes a bit harder but their plastic smiles never waver. I’m sorry, but that freaks me out.

Now, of course, with the bad and the ugly comes the good:

1) Piggy backing off the flight attendant comment, I do commend them for having generally attractive flight attendants who aren’t disgruntled and who aren’t old enough to be my grandmother. While having flight attendants of ALL AGES is what I personally think would be best, they do have an extremely lopsided crew… leaning towards 35 and under. And also, Chile certainly isn’t a monument for fights against age discrimination laws. In fact, I’m sure LAN’s executive board is the one promoting the age range acceptance in job descriptions.

2) The planes are squeaky clean and very new. And they have TV’s with a laundry list of movies (old and new) and TV Shows, as well as games and music. Two very enthusiastic thumbs up! It made my 17 hour flight go by entertainingly fast!

3) Free food and free alcohol on all flights. Enough said.

Yet despite these three oh-so-fabulous points, LAN remains a thorn in my side for so many reasons and most have to do with just being the only option you really have in Chile. I hate lack of options. Especially when I come from a country where I had a million airlines to choose from to get from Point A to Point B. And here I find myself with just LAN…just good ol’ LAN. With their fake customer service and its circa 1999 website. Because they’re the only option, they can’t be bothered to fix their website, their travel award nuances and their scary, Valley-of-the-Dolls flight attendants.

And thus, I can’t be bothered with coming up with more than three good points about them.

Also – side note – one of Chile’s current presidential candidates used to be the President of Lan Chile. Is that good or is that bad given what I have just laid out for you here? Discuss.

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Oh really? Anti-bride? Ha!!

Fine, so maybe I’m not that much of an anti-bride… so sue me!

It turns out, I am kinda getting into the fun of this whole wedding planning. It’s not the usual, little-girl-dream of a wedding, but more so, it’s just plain fun to plan events and the details surrounding it. I realize this now. I can also now admit that it took finalizing Gonzalo’s divorce to truly propel me into the mayhem of the wedding planning.

My wedding date is set for April 17th and I have a venue and a photographer confirmed (btw, obsessed with both). Believe it or not I also have Save-the-Dates (to be mailed out in the U.S. AS WELL AS in Chile) and we have our wedding website. Further, we’ve registered for some items at four stores in the U.S. I feel like I’m ahead of the game for someone who some time back claimed to be the anti-bride.

I find that it’s fun also because G is super into it as well. Actually, it’s more like I research and find images of things we may both like and put them into a Power Point presentation. When he gets home we discuss and vote. A very corporate spin to things considering he’s too busy to actually do the researching with me. He *is* however, all about the discussing details and how we can make our wedding “different” for Chilean standards (which, let’s face it, won’t be hard with someone who’s basically gringa involved in more than half of it.)

I get a little unmotivated when I come across details that mean a big deal to me, for which Chile has LITTLE TO NO SOLUTIONS!! And by this I mean flowers. Hello?!! Where does one go in Chile to discuss the fabulous-ness of flowers with someone who isn’t about to throw carnations into the mix? I’m at a loss on this realm and it’s really frustrating me!! I’m not sure what I’ll do here … I’m hoping a solution falls in my lap… or at least I’ll wait until next week when I go to boutiques to try on wedding dresses. I’m sure someone there will have a lead to give me. If not, I’m sure you’ll hear about it since I’ll rant to NO END on my blog…

So that’s where it’s at right now. I’m glad to be planning this and nothing would mean more to me than to have people here to share that day with me. I did the registry thing just because it was advised that I do it rather than not do it. So there it is. But really, this is just as fun without gifts.

Oh except for the invitation part. That part truly sucks a**. I don’t recommend it at all and I’m treating it like taking off a band aid in one sweep.

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Pretty in Pink in my building

There’s a woman who works in my building’s “Conserjería” (front desk) who doesn’t like me.

From what I can tell, she works here five days a week, primarily cleaning each floor and the surrounding area of the building. Sometimes however, I think she relieves the door man during lunch and she’s sitting at the front desk when I come in from wherever it is I’ve been.

The way the mail works in most apartment buildings in Santiago (or Chile for that matter) is that each apartment has their own “cubby” down at the front desk and the “conserje” (front door/desk person) hands you the mail you may have. So you see, we don’t get our mail directly to our door or in our own personal mailbox where we personally retrieve it. Always, it’s handed to us. This also means that when you’re walking in and out of the building you have to take note of anything that may be in there. If there is, you approach the front desk and ask for your mail.

Every time I see her I say hello but I can tell she’s trying really hard to avoid saying hi to me. I remember when I first moved in that I was shy and felt awkward in general about being here so perhaps I myself gave off weird or mean vibe. I don’t know. But then as time passed, I’ve become more comfortable and definitely say hello to all the building employees and ask about them, their day or talk general current events. I try to do so with her as well, but to no avail. She just isn’t having it.

Then one day, I realized why she doesn’t like me: Coming in from having been at the gym, I went up to the front desk and asked for the mail in our cubby. She looked at me and said: “It must be nice to be able to ask for your bills.” I didn’t say anything besides “Oh, I just don’t want us to get behind,” but it was at that moment that I realized that she dislikes me simply because I have a different reality than she does and we’re the youngest couple/family in the building. She dislikes me simply because she thinks I’m a “cuica” (person with money, type of yuppy, with bad connotations) and people from “her” world naturally treat people from “my” world in this manner. [This “manner” is, simply put, that she’s not nice, she doesn’t smile, when she sees me coming, she avoids all contact with me, she looks at me with a smirk and she says ridiculous things such as the above to me.]

One of these days I want to force her to look at me and tell her that I grew up poor. That my mom and I shared a one bedroom for as long as I can remember during my childhood. That many times I didn’t really have Christmas presents. That my mom would eat canned food so as to give me better food. That I went to a scary public school during my first 4 years of school in the U.S. and only after IMMENSE sacrifice from my mom and lobbying for a scholarship, was I able to go to a private school. That my mom cleaned houses when I was little. That I never had a summer vacation because I had to get up with her and sit in these huge mansions everyday, in the kitchen, while my mom cleaned all day long. I want to tell her that I know what it’s like to have very little and to STILL be nice to everyone… and I want to tell her that I am where I am now because of my mom’s sacrifices and because of my personal efforts and desire to succeed. And I want to ask her, who does she think she is, making me feel bad for being successful?

I know that it’s easy to look at people who have more material wealth than you and snicker. It’s easy to be envious that their lives are so much easier and that they don’t literally sweat while they work. But when I’m feeling those pangs of envy about someone who never has to save and never has to plan for the future as I do, I stop short of assuming they’re bad people I can’t like. I stop short of assuming they were always that fortunate.

I have such a profound respect for people who have worked for what they have, whatever that may be. It’s all relative. Perhaps my friends are working hard for cars, or houses or careers, while right now I’m working hard for a nice wedding. Maybe someone who is a millionaire worked hard to become CEO of the company that made him or her a millionaire. Who am I to criticize where they are and where they want to be, if they have worked for it?

Of course there’s always the quintessential “cuica” who comes from generations and generations of “cuicos” and well, yes, they’re annoying and yes they’re even MORE annoying here in Santiago where there’s a huge chasm between have’s and have not’s and these cuicos tend to have no sense of reality. But the whole attitude going on with this lady who works in my building needs to be readjusted…it’s just SO cliche and SOOOO “Pretty In Pink.” Aside from the fact that it makes me feel BAD and then I get pissed that I feel bad in the first place because unlike the typical cuica that she thinks I am, I come from a long line of hard workers and I’ve succeeded due to work and effort!

Por ultimo (that’s to say, “in conclusion”), can we just consider Andy’s words to Ducky in “Pretty in Pink” when she tells him “Listen to me – if we hate them because they have money, it’s the same as them hating us because we don’t.”
Amen, sister.

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A side note on my gringa bubble

Last night I enjoyed a very nice happy hour with the lovely gringas I’ve met in Santiago. It’s funny because we went to a place called “California” that serves, what I’m guessing, is their version of California-style food (burgers, burritos, etc). Further, our waiter spoke English because he was from Monterey, CA! Finally, the tables around us, or at least the one next to us, full of gringos speaking their perfect English.

In short, last night I was basically in the U.S… but also a five minute walk from my house.

I can’t tell you how good that feels every so often. The – “where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came” – kind of feeling you get when hanging with peeps who GET what it’s like to live here but be from there.

Your friends back in the US don’t get it because well, they continue their lives in the comfort zone we all know as home. Trust me, there are many a times I want to run back to that comfort zone myself. Even the ones who have traveled and lived abroad (which in actuality are far fewer than you might think) don’t truly get it. Because what we’re doing here is MORE than just living abroad. We’re accepting families, customs, places and things as our own. Not just “hey, check me out, I’m living in another country!” In any capacity though, living in another country is a feat and of course those who have done it deserve a hats off. I think that’s probably the reason why those who do study abroad together in college become such close friends.

It’s a similar thing with the gringas here but a slightly more intense feeling of connectedness because we have relationships and marriages (for the most part) that we’re also living through with Chilean men. (And depending on the type of Chilean man you’re with, this can either be a slice of heaven or a deep, cultural shock to the system).

I might loosely “complain” that I’m having a hard time making Chilean women friends but I agree with a fellow gringa that stated to me last night that I’ve been here “all of a second.” Apparently she made her first Chilean friend three years into her life here so it would seem that I have time to get that going.

In the meantime, while I assimilate and wait for the right Chilean woman to come along (in a friendly kind of way!), I rather enjoy the gringa bubble that floats about in this grimy, smoggy city full of disgruntled Chileans with mullet cuts and questionable fashion sense (generalizing here, of course.)

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The evolution of friendships

It’s never easy to leave your life behind to start a new one in another country, hemisphere, etc. It’s particularly never easy to leave friends behind, especially those you’ve had for what seems a lifetime. But it’s also a kind of Darwinian experiment. Survival of the fittest friendships, if you will.

There are some friendships that are so solid that space, time, distance or WHAT HAVE YOU, would never really touch the quality of the said friendship. The necessary adjustments are automatically made. Email, IMing, and phone calls replace the regular lunch/dinner/happy hours you’d normally look forward to after any given workday.

It’s a curious thing, the evolution of a friendship.

I think back to the kinds of friends I had when I was in grammar school and most of those friends are ones I was in the same class with year after year in Catholic school. We were friends by default because we all moved through grades together. We played in the same yard, wore the same uniform and agonized over the same teachers. Not to mention the agony that brought us together with one said music teacher (who btw, was also a nun and just about the meanest old witch you can possibly fathom.) I had fun growing up with those friends from 2-7th grade. Still, our friendships ended really, when I moved to another city and transferred to public school. And just like that, we no longer had the common bond that held us together.

In high school I had a few really good friends whom I cherished but there exists two reasons (I recognize them now) for why we drifted apart. 1) They grew up waaaaaaay faster than I did and began drinking and attending parties before I did. 2) I started dating a guy who was a million times older than me (and not that cute, WTF was I thinking?) This guy never wanted to do ANYTHING with me bc my friends were all younger. The result? I chose him, not them. And they carried on with their lives sans me.

In college, and a little after college too, I finally made really good, solid friends. The type of people that really enrich your life. Funny people. Insightful people. People who didn’t really share my background but that’s why I find/found them fascinating. Do-gooders and achievers. Witty and smart. These friends are the ones proving to lead the others in the Darwinian experiment that automatically arises when you move to another planet – I mean, country. With these, more “grown up” friendships, it’s been easier to survive the life changes (and by that, I don’t mean menopause). Even though some went on to live with their boyfriends or went on to get married and even moved to different States, we mostly remained friends despite it all.

But NOW, even some of those friendships won’t last, I’m beginning to realize. Because if you aren’t “there” in the day-to-day, the fact of the matter is that life goes on. Without you. These friends will get involved with new life projects and all of a sudden there is little room for the relationship you once had with that person. And the thing is, it’s not because you don’t have the room in your life… that’s the most frustrating part about it. You begin to get the sense of “out of sight, out of mind” from the other end. And it’s really quite a sad realization.

In fact, I’m realizing an evolution between my friendship with my best friend right now. Not a detrimental, friendship-ending change, but a change nonetheless. She just got a new boyfriend and the thing looks mighty serious. Before my move to Chile, I was in the know of almost all the boys or men that went in and out of her life probably from the start. This time, when I meet him, it will be a done deal between them. Not that my blessing was ever needed for her to decide on dating someone but it’s weird to know that this guy MIGHT be the guy she marries and I’ll never really know him. To me he’ll forever be this random (albeit nice) guy she ended up with, no matter how in love they are (or will be).

Then I remember that she went through that first. And not only is Gonzalo the random guy that I ended up with in her eyes but he’s also the random FOREIGNER who, yeah, treats me well and adores me, but who also TOOK ME AWAY to another planet (I mean, country, sorry.) So in the end, what makes our friendship different is actually the common denominator we both share. Random guys who came into our lives!

It’s not all evolving in a bad way though. There are some friends that I actually keep in touch with MORE and feel more involved with BECAUSE of the distance we now have. These are the friends I engage in hour long IM sessions at least three times a week because I feel the need to catch up or else my week isn’t complete! And of course I can’t leave out the great people I’m becoming friends with while living here in Chile. It’s hard to say if some of these people I’m friends with merely because we have the “Hey I live in Chile too” common denominator but I do feel that though that is what brought me to them, some of these women are so cool, I’d be friends with them in Siberia, California, Casablanca or Helsinki. Just cooool peeps and I’m glad to have come across them.

Yeah friendships evolve and I guess that means that sometimes friendships end. But not always. As long as there is general interest from both parties to actually KNOW about the other’s new life, then most likely than not, the friendship will survive. It’s so easy really. Sincere interest and willingness to take the time to communicate, is all it takes. No matter which planet you live on or the times zones that separate you.

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Sundays in Santiago

Um…so where do all the people run off to on Sundays? Like, all those people who crowd the downtown area near where I live? Where there are so many pedestrians, that it takes me a whole five minutes to make a right turn ANYWHERE?
And the taxis? The buses? Just – poof, gone! Seriously?

For a country, like most Lat Am ones, where close to 50% of the population resides IN THE CAPITAL, it’s mind boggling to me where these people go on Sundays. Do they head for the hills??!! The Andes don’t particularly look that welcoming or endearing this time of year actually… so what’s the deal?

The stores that line the busy streets are all closed, the kiosks are shut down, most Starbucks are closed, no one’s selling fruit/artichokes on the corners and even the guy who sits there and juggles apples, or what have you, at every intersection – gone! It’s actually rather spooky. Kind of like that short story by Stephen King called “The Langoliers,” where passengers on a cross-country red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Boston wake up and find that the crew and the rest of the passengers who weren’t asleep, have disappeared. Creepier yet, is that THEN they discover that they’re the only people remaining on the planet – PERIOD. (Very eerie story, check it out!)

Yeah, Santiago on Sundays kind of feels like that. If there are about 16 million people TOTAL in this country, and about 7 million or so live in Santiago, are they all just sitting at home? If so, then MY WORD they take this “day of rest” bit seriously…

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The difference a year makes

Here we are again. October 29th.

I must say – if ever you feel your life is just atrocious and sh*^&y, like there is no way things could possibly look up and shine a bright shine on you – hear this my weary friend: A lot can happen in a year.

Channel Dr. Seuss’s “Oh the Places You’ll Go.”

I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.

2008 was a rough year for me for several reasons but two stand out. I’ll spare the details of one but will leave you to ponder just the worst stroke of luck in love you can possibly imagine. Now, take that thought and multiply it by 500 while adding a kick in the groin, a punch in the boob and a finger sliced inside an armful of lemon juice. I was involved in a situation I knew I shouldn’t have been involved in but yet I went in, blindfolded. The result? Well, all I just happened to explain. I spent the first half of 2008 playing the fool and basically not developing my FABULOSA-ness as I should have.

You’ll be on your way up!
You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.

All the bad love crap was over as of June 2008 and I was on my own, no strings attached and free to feel happy or miserable of my own accord. Except the countdown was on. My mother – my dear, sweet, chocolate-covered mother – was leaving me behind in the U.S. to embark on her return to the motherland, Chile, after 28 years living in the San Francisco Bay Area. Good for her, but sad, sad and more sad for me.

I found myself in a flurry of activity that kept me busy throughout the summer. Between mending a broken heart, realizing I’m too fabulous to even BOTHER with a broken heart, enjoying my friends and my social life, going to New York, and packing my mother up for a long haul back to Chilsters, my summer indeed flew by. With that, I reached the end of August 2008.

Oh, the places you’ll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

…which quite describes the new state of Singlehood I found myself living. I had my first apartment alone and though there were many a times I’d find myself with just me as company, where I’d talk out loud just to make sure I hadn’t randomly lost my voice from lack of use, it was a time to roll out of the ugly dust I’d been enveloped in earlier in the year and just enjoy MY LIFE as ME with ME and not allowing outside influences dictate how I was going to feel about myself or how I was going to live my life.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

Despite learning to find myself from June to August – whether with friends or not – September and October 2008 weren’t about to allow me to feel alone for too long. It was the busiest travel season I’d had in a while at work and I was off to Tokyo, followed by Brazil, Argentina and Chile –> all for work. I’m sure those two months alone won me Elite Status on American Airlines with all the miles I accrued.

My business trips were amazing and productive and with each one, I became more and more my own person, realizing my time was my own and that I held the door knob to the door in front of opportunity. Of course I didn’t realize all THIS then, but now, looking back, I do.

Tokyo was a hoot (Sept 2008)

Brazil, with its mix of business and one afternoon of fun, was a holler (Oct 2008)

Argentina, as per usual, was fun-loving (Oct 2008)

And then, on October 29th, the same day as my mom’s 60th birthday, I flew to Chile… and the result of that trip was life-changing. It’s what bring us here. You and me. For were it not for that fateful night, when Gonzalo showed up at my mom’s bday celebration dinner, the events that followed that led to my being here, would never have happened. Had they not happened, this blog wouldn’t exist, and well, my dear reader, you and I would be somewhere completely different in Cyberspace.

Gonzalo, someone I’d kind of known for four years prior, but only via work, showed up in all his never-before-witnessed glory, and despite all efforts, reasons, logic and geography, what now is, came to be on that night, one year ago, today.

So you see? I went from one extreme to the other in ONE YEAR. From heartbreak and loneliness to happiness and awareness. The lesson to be learned is this: no matter how things look today, trust me, tomorrow can bring something completely different. And no matter where you are in life now, next year, you may very well be living it up in the last place you ever considered you’d be.

You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

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Going to the doctor in Chile

Well now. There certainly is NOTHING more pleasant about being a woman than the annual visit to the hoo-ha doctor.

And as much as I usually hated it in the U.S., I was 2.2 seconds away from freaking out about it here in Chile since today was my first doctor’s appointment since moving here and as luck would OF COURSE have it, THAT was the first doctor I had to see. Oy.

You’ve heard (or read) my rants about the inefficiencies here and trust me there are tons. The bureaucracy that exists here to do the simplest of deeds leaves the U.S. in the scope of living, say, in Candy Land. I was expecting the same thing when visiting the doctor, but I was, thankfully, pleasantly surprised.

To begin, contrary to the norm in the U.S. (and thus all I’ve know), “clinics” in Chile = good and “hospitals” in Chile = not so good and even bad. I realize that there are people that aren’t fortunate enough to go to clinics and thus may have a completely different version of events I’m about to describe. However, I went to Clinica Las Condes which is by far, the most modern, efficient and aesthetically pleasing medical facility I’ve ever visited. Granted, it’s one of the top medical centers in the country so of course, what was I expecting? Cows in the lobby? Probably.

But that certainly wasn’t the case.
I located the appropriate building (there are many) and the floor where my appointment was and checked in by introducing myself and merely placing my right forefinger on a sensor. With that, and the equivalent of my SSN, the medical attendant located all the information they needed about me on the computer screen in front of her: my age, where I live, my contact info, the doctor I was seeing, what I was seeing the doctor about, my insurance and hell, probably my bra size!

The doctor was running a little late but when we were finally escorted back, I was expecting a regular exam room where I’d find the usual patient half-bed covered by white paper, cupboards (gray), a scale, a blood pressure machine, etc, etc and a computer and chair for the Doctor. This is what I saw back home. However HERE, we were escorted into the doctor’s OFFICE. Yeah…OFFICE. Now, call me crazy and perhaps unfortunate but I don’t think I’ve EVER been in a doctor’s OFFICE. In the 50s and other decades I’m sure, this was probably normal, right? I mean, I see it on Mad Men so it must have been real. Anyway, the doctor’s office was connected to the doctor’s personal exam room, which also had it’s own, private bathroom. Um what?! It’s like as big as my apartment back in CA!!

The cool thing was that she sat down with US – not just me, but US – and asked me all kinds of questions and took her time to get to know me. What? I’m not being shuffled in and out of an exam room as if on a conveyor belt? And the thing is, after hearing me out, hearing my past, hearing about my plans for the future, jotting down family history, etc, etc she didn’t just decide to do a regular exam but she asked for tests and exams that I’ve never had done in my life! [Ex: I come from a long line of diabetics in my family and though I don’t currently have diabetes, I have to take blood tests ALL THE TIME in order to monitor this. She asked for a test that involves my blood being taken on an empty stomach AND a test where they themselves give me sugar and test how my blood reacts to that sugar while still in my system!] Sure it MIGHT sound to some like too much trouble, but I was stoked! A doctor actually CARES?! Wow.

This did have a hefty price though and I felt it. I have insurance (however, should you have an issue with your insurance for any reason, the clinics conveniently allow insurance or “isapre” companies small desks/office areas on the premises of said clinic – imagine if we had that in the States!) but unfortunately my “isapre” only covers 60-70% of the costs. That means that the remaining amount comes out of pocket! Ouch! I do have the option to have some of the more day-to-day exams done by smaller clinics (not affiliated to the one I went to today) and that will save me ton. And instead of having the tests results “forwarded” to my doctor, I pick it up instead and make an appointment to see my doctor after I have them. Thus I save the cost of being forced to take these tests at the expensive clinic. So on one end, they do allow some flexibility.

But I’m done boring you to tears about the in’s and out’s of going to the doctor in Chile. All you need to know is that there aren’t cows in the lobby and I didn’t have to sit in the waiting room with a woman holding a rooster.
It seems I’ll actually be able to go to the doctor and have things flow… well at least this seems to be the case on the UBER expensive end. We’ll see what it’s like when I go to the less expensive clinics to get tests taken. It might be a WHOLE different ballgame.

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