IdleMinds' Journal

01-08-01
So I thought my old neighbor might be dead. I mean, she had mail under her
door for three weeks. And suddenly I saw ants in my apartment. I've never
once seen bugs in my apartment since I moved in. I live on the eighth floor
for one thing. But regardless, the mail's gone now so either she came home
from a very long vacation or they finally came and took her body away. Oh,
and the exterminators are coming tomorrow.

I'm missing the O and P keys on my keyboard here, using the bracket keys by
proxy. Only now it's completely screwed up my typing skills. I sit down at
my computer at work and suddenly I'm writing anagrams. Which reminds me,
tomorrow is "International Day" and I'm supposed to bring an "ethnic" food
from my place of origin. Less than half of the people in my department are
actually American, so I guess they figured this would be easy. I, on the
other hand, was born in south Texas so all I know to bring are tacos. And my
co-workers don't eat meat. So I'm thinking I'll go to the market at lunch,
buy some chips with queso and call it a day. I can't cook anyway, even if I
cared enough to bother.

I've long grown accustomed to being the typical monolingual American, but
being the sole person in the office fluent in only one language can be rather
embarrassing. Don't get me wrong, I was able to get around Paris okay, and I
can muddle through most any doujinshi but I couldn't have a serious
conversation in French or Japanese to save my life. I've been considering
spending some time in Tokyo, but if going abroad does one thing it's in
making you appreciate the amenties you take for granted in America. (Trust
me when I say that what the Italians call air conditioning is nowhere near
real air conditioning.) You start to miss strange things like drive-thrus
and commercials that make some semblance of sense.

But then it also makes you think about what's really worth missing. Distance
allows you to better view the things -- and the people -- that may in reality
be much more superfluous than they first appear. Things like the internet
and digital cable. People that we talk to every day only to realize that we
no longer find them very interesting. Vacations are good for that. Breaths
of fresh air. A step back to re-evaluate, reconsider, and all those other
redo verbs. Perspective is a valuable commodity, right up there with
adaptibility for the change it inevitably brings. I guess what I'm trying to
say is that if the ants in my apartment are really the result of my
neighbor's rotting corpse, I'll try really hard not to poke it with a stick
when I finally break in to look for loose change.

Hey, I said I'd at least try.

Meredith

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