Oh how it feeds my Leo soul to have so many people ask me why I haven't blogged in awhile. It makes me feel...sniff sniff... wanted.
I've been told I'm supposed to write about culture shock, returning to the US, reflections on Brazil now that we're back here, visions for the future, funny things that people have said, all of that. Considering that we still don't have an internet connection at home and, unlike my esteemed fellow bloggers who all seem to work government jobs where they sit in front of the computer with huge spans of thumb-twiddling time, I come to the internet cafe to WORK and PAY MY BILLS, I am feeling rather wordless.
So, because I'm watching the clock and have only 30 minutes left to finish this proposal for a NONPROFIT AWARD for lots of INNOVATION AND ADVOCACY for working with TRANS YOUTH (I hope that capital letters help this proposal) and I have to walk to pick up our new-old grandma car 98 Ford Contour thank you grandma in Ohio for getting too old to walk and thinking of me and mine and yes, we've sunk $400 in this car today even though it was supposed to be all free and clear of bugs, well, with all of that plus the fact that I promised I would make zucchini risotto tonight and it takes a while to grate a fuckload (here that, Vikki, it is a real measurement) of zucchini, well, I am going to be quick.
Let's see: Came back, no one had a meltdown, stayed with friends for two weeks while the renters moved out of our house, stayed with friends for longer while the housemate found a way to de-ick the frat house smell from the woodwork, couch, paint, dog's eyelashes, and yes I have now learned that the frat house smell is a mixture of stale cigarette smoke, stale beer, stale food, no washing and, stale pot, and oh yes, lots of incense to cover it up which then goes, yep, stale, but it got clean, still had not meltdown, went to Ohio to visit family and got said car from said grandmother who hasn't driven it in two years but it does have 66,000 miles on it and not 60 so it's not REALLY a grandmother car, and then came back, stopped at the Cranberry Expo in rural Wisconsin where we learned everything there is to know about the cranberry (information given upon request), came back, no meltdowns after 14 hours in the car there and back, moved into our house three days ago, are still moving in, getting rid of crap, we got rid of crap before we left but now after six months feel less connected to the crap that was left so now we're getting rid of more crap, hanging out with friends, it is BEAUTIFUL in minneapolis right now and did I still mention, no meltdowns?
Culture shock? At the airport in Chicago before we transferred to Minneapolis, everyone looked so AMERICAN in that tennis shoes, all clothes made out of sweatshirt material and baggy, that kind of look. Maybe it's midwestern but I see those people everywhere and on the record, I have never dressed like that. Tennis shoes for anything other than working out - ish! But I love my friends who do it. Culture shock: the first time I walked into our house and our friend's house, the warm color of the wood everywhere caused eye orgasms. Different from the glass and stone and clean lines of most of what we saw in Brazil. Plus, with a huge termite problems, not a lot of residential wood there. Culture shock: not much. Except for the size of people, the size of food ordered in the restaurant, that kind of thing.
We're all pretty adaptable. We've done this before. It's Luca who has amazed me. She has been seamless in her transition. Completely seamless.
Kisses until we have internet at home.