I Kissed A Girl

Over the weekend, we met up with our little group of international (read: not Polish) friends at the park so that our Spanish friend could serve us all “good” paella.

Anyone who’s traveled to Europe, or really anywhere outside the U.S. knows that upon greeting your friends you are supposed to kiss. The kissing confuses me totally. After all these years of being overseas, as soon as I see a non-American, non-Canadian, or non-British, these are the thoughts that run through my head: “Do you think anyone would notice if I just scootched up under this table?” “They’re definitely going to expect me to kiss them.” “Is it 2,3 or 4 kisses?” and when they come up from behind you with no warning “F**k! I’m caught!”.

We see the Spanish friends often enough that I remember upon approach all the kissing etiquette of Spain. Shortly after we arrived and greeted the Spanish friends, the Greek friends arrived. Unfortunately I was backed into a corner and unable to escape from the kisses (which I know is incredibly rude, but it really makes me uncomfortable). I kissed the Greek man and the woman was next. I assume it was my faux pax, but she started on the wrong side and we kissed on the lips. (Imagine you are leaning to kiss someone on their left cheek and they also lean to kiss you on your right. Yep, that’s a full on lip kiss!)

For the rest of the party, I did my alternative of parking myself in the center of a long table so that I could just wave, or at the most shake hands with people as they arrived. I was hiding out in trees (literally!) when the German arrived, because, unfair or not – I avoid her like the plague. It’s all fun and games until somebody touches my breast!

Just another drunk chick out in her underwear

A few days ago, Jenny, The Bloggess posted about her experience showing up at a live news show in costume when no one else was dressed up (which is totally hilarious and you should go read it NOW! But make sure you come back after, don't be like my husband and leave me for Jenny, oh wait.). This reminded me of my own embarrassing costume experience, but not wanting to overshadow Jenny ('cause you know, I'm just as wildly popular as she - in my own mind) I waited a few days to post it.

At Halloween our first year in Poland, my sons' teachers at their two separate schools encouraged the parents to dress up. I have a Wonder Woman costume.

A little back story here. Poles do not celebrate Halloween. Not really. They are just recently getting into the idea of sending children around collecting candy, but are never too sure about dressing their children up, let alone their adults.

I showed up at my son's Polish preschool in a Wonder Woman costume. Poles do not dress up unless they are completely drunk AND they don't celebrate Halloween AND I had to park down the block because there was no parking available AND they don't know who Wonder Woman is since they were under communism when that TV show came out. So I was just a drunk woman wandering around in red, white and blue underwear walking the 1/4 mile down the street in a residential neighborhood to my son's preschool. At noon, on a Wednesday.

I look amazingly like Lynda Carter. People think we're twins.

Wordless Wednesday

Just have to add that the chipboard piece in the corner has silver glitter on it that did not show up in the scan.

Daddy, I want to go to the "new" beach

So my husband, being a wonderful husband...and a man...comes home and says that he and the boys are going to check out a beach this weekend. I said, is it a nude beach? He just laughed.

But because Seth overheard, he said, "Daddy, I want to go to the new beach." And continued to repeat it all weekend long.

So Sunday AFTER CHURCH, we go looking for the "new" beach. Now, mind you, Warsaw is landlocked. We have a river that runs through the middle (which is ironically named "River"), so all "beaches" are actually river beaches...which I would NEVER EVER swim in.

Anyway, I said, You know, even if you find this nude beach - which was dated information the LAST time we were here - it's going to be all men right? Like when D walked through the Tiergarten in Berlin and said, "It's full of naked men. Is this some kind of cultural thing that I am not aware of?"

He said, "You're probably right."

I said, "Can I take pictures and mock you incessantly on my blog?"

He said, "Yes."

So here it is, the nude beach:

We never actually found the beach.

Tagged and decided to do this one:).

Robin AND Judy tagged me with this one, and since I figure they tagged me specifically to find out where in the world I have been (and because Yolanda was wondering too) I decided to go ahead and do this one.

Ten Years Ago: I was 24 and was the thinnest I have ever been in my life. My husband was deployed to Bosnia and Pamela and I lived in Germany. My Great Aunty Dot came to stay with us from Australia and we traveled all around Germany, Austria, and the Czech Republic (but not Poland, amusingly enough).

Five things on today’s to do list:
1. Organize my scrap space.
2. Write a creative blog post.
3. Remove boys’ winter clothes and replace with summer clothes (boy, do I miss warm climates, where you don’t have to switch clothes).
4. Fill out that darn job application (for a job that I will most likely not get).
5. Call the bank about student loans.

Snacks I enjoy: Bread, muffins, bread, crackers, bread, pancakes…yeah, I kind of like carbsJ.

Things I would do if I were a millionaire: Hire someone to clean my house AND write REALLY amusing blog posts that make me look like a genius comedianne who really wastes her time being a millionaire blogger.

Places I have lived: Starting from birth Sydney, Australia (9 months), Houston, TX (20 years), Illesheim, Germany (3 years), Damascus, Syria (2 years), Washington, DC (9 months), Warsaw, Poland (2 years), Houston, TX (1 year), Accra, Ghana (2 years), and Warsaw, Poland (1 year and counting!). I also once got reprimanded in a class for reciting my list of places I had lived just like this, and yet I continue to do it.

The Job Interview (or how not to get hired)

I was the first to enter and the woman says to me:

L: "Hi, I'm L. I think you live in the building next to me."

Me: "Um, no, I don't think so." (Knowing full well that she is not a Swedish family.)

L: "Yeah, you moved into J.'s building."

Me: "No. I know where she lives and I live outside of town."

L: "Oh, I really thought you lived in that building. So how do you like Warsaw."

Me: "Um, it's good. I've lived here for a year now, so I'm pretty well settled in."

L: "Oh, I thought you were new."

Me: "Ohhhhh. I think you have me confused with Phoebe. Who is 60. And moved here for a particular job at the embassy. And therefore would not be looking for another job. Or at least her supervisors would be pretty ticked to know that. And it would be pretty hard to hide that she decided to take another job with another office in. the. embassy. But thanks."

So I didn't get the job (don't really know yet, but trust me...won't be totally surprising. People don't like it so much when you tell them they're stupid).

People, STOP TALKING TO ME!

Whenever I am on my bike on the lovely trail that we have between my house and Toby's school, people stop and talk to me. Usually they ask me directions, often they ask me where I was able to find that trailer (I tell you, I am a spectacle!). Sometimes though, they ride up next to me and want to have a conversation.

My Polish is very limited. I can tell you how to get to the park ("Straight. Hotel name "Ant" turn right. Straight still, up hill."). I can tell you where I bought the trailer (in VERY limited Polish, consisting only of "In Germany.")

When those people pull up next to me and start conversing with me, I usually just smile and nod. If you are ever in a foreign country (or in your own for that matter) and speaking with someone who smiles and nods, they don't know what you're talking about. You can just stop talking to them.

This was much funnier in my head:).