Honey, What's for Dinner?

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I moved! Hence the missing posts (which I promised to myself I'd never do, but limited wi-fi access and "having to run around and take care of a dozen of things at the same time" situation have won) in the past two weeks. 

Everything went smoothly up until the point when I called to turn on gas and was told by a puzzled rep that there's no meter in my unit. That wouldn't be so strange if the building wasn't built in 60-s or so, and if there was no person occupying the apartment just 3 weeks before! 

I was told there was no available appointment time for installation for at least another week and this is when I found myself standing in the frozen meals isle. The virgin territory to me... I mean, yes, I'd buy frozen peas and carrots, and even frozen mangoes for my smoothies at times, but stuff like "Juicy Chicken with Creamy Alfredo" was never ever on my shopping list. 

Which leads me to this - food the way a lot of people in America see and eat it is not the same as I've know it for most of my life (before coming here that is). First, eating food from a cardboard box is totally fine and frequently practiced. Second, there's hardly an item you can find at the grocery store that will not include Microwave cooking instructions (and oh how I am grateful for it this week!). And third, no matter what the label tells you of how natural and home-cooked it tastes, food that comes to your plate directly from a box, a can, or a vacuumed package NEVER tastes as the one that comes from my mama's stove.

Feel free to prove me wrong.

Cheers, I'll drink (and eat) to that!

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I went to Dodgers Stadium once. Can't remember much of the game - got there late, looked for parking for 20 minutes, found the seats. Everyone around was drinking delicious looking crisp and cold beer and eating cheesy nachos. I couldn't resist. We went to get some. I drank and ate, and the game was over. I wouldn't even tell you who was playing or who won.

Where am I going with this? It's actually quite obvious - pretty much any activity in the states involves eating and drinking. Whether you go to Broadway, Staples center, Hollywood Bowl, a shopping mall or a movie theater - the next thing you see after you walk in is the food and beverage stands. Overpriced, of a lower quality and limited selection - usually cheap american beer, wine and hot dogs become the hottest items on the menu and make people stand patiently in lines sometimes for 20 minutes or more.

And no, noone is really THAT hungry or thirsty, it's just part of the experience of going to these kinds of events. I mean, who's going to argue that singing and dancing and cheering on a favorite team becomes times more fun with belly full of fast food and head feeling lighter after a glass of Coors Light?

Love You, Bye

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Alright, I know, all we need is love, but talking about it and putting LOVE in every conversation is a definite overkill for me. I just find it a bit unfair that once can describe a fondness of spinach, shoes and feelings for a significant other with the same word "LOVE".

I see that the use of this sacred word has become so natural and trivial, that saying it out loud doesn't trigger sweaty palms and stammering anymore. Thinking of me growing up I do not remember my parents telling me "Love you" every day. And I am pretty sure it's not because they didn't, it's because words of love are not spoken that often. Good or bad, I am not here to argue either case, just sharing the experience.

I will admit that after my move to the states I began using the L word more frequently. I tell this to my family, my friends and to my bird. My sister only speaks it to me and our mom on holidays, on cards, in writing. I wonder if it's because of the way we were brought up or it's just my sister being weird like that.

But sometimes I think I'd rather get her "Love you sister" on holidays and know it's coming from her heart than see it in every text message from her and not paying much attention to it, as something I hear every day and get immune to... Go figure.

You've got mail!

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Many years ago, when I was 12 and barely tall enough to reach the mailbox, checking it on the way home from school was my sweet daily habit. Mail would usually come no more than 5 times a month - some bills, a newspaper and perhaps a card or a letter from whoever was still into that way of keeping in touch. Finding a piece of paper in that blue box was always exciting and something I used to look forward to.

Long gone are those days and how I do miss them! Mailboxes in the states are being spammed, junked, abused and disgraced in so many ways on a daily basis, excluding Sunday. Where do all those people, businesses and credit card agencies find my address and how do they know all the stuff about me? Making one purchase online and applying for a car loan was enough to find piles of letters in my mailbox just 3 weeks after I changed the address.

It can be nice sometimes, to come home and find an envelope with my name and address on it, to feel that I am not forgotten and no matter what there will always be some bank, store or just a local business thinking about me and sending me all the nice words and offers. This factor I can certainly appreciate!

The rest of the unwanted mail can still be pretty annoying and feel like a waste. I personally rarely even open those letter, let alone read them. Am I the only one?

Oh no, we're not dating, we're just seeing each other

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Where do I begin with this one?..

Just so it makes more sense, allow me to explain that where I am coming from there are only 2 categories of a relationship: we're together or we're not. It's black and white like that.
Even if we went on just one movie date, I would be offended it you take another girl to watch the same or a different movie later this week. Heck, I'd be mad even if you take her out for a cup of coffee or tea!
I mean, it's not luck we're engaged and you belong to me, but at least have courage to pay me a respect of letting me know you're no longer interested or don't think it's going to work out. Don't just go hanging with other girls and tell me "I didn't promise you anything!"

This is how I see it. 99% of America, apparently, disagrees with me. Just the other week on the radio a host asked a question "How many people is it OK to date at once?" The majority of callers stated "Whatever number it takes to find the perfect one!"

I mean, are you for real? So that's not considered a promiscuous behavior to be giving a phone number, sharing a dinner, discuss personal and intimate details and being inches close from each with a few different people in just one week? If that's a norm, than feel free to call me a prude.

I am still in the process of understanding and putting as much sense as I can to each step of the "dating process" done the USA-way. And it ain't easy and clear (just like the bedding story), too many definitions of what people are to each other. If I attempt to break it down, it will look something like that, in case it all works out:

We meet -> We go out -> We see each other -> We are not exclusive -> We decide that we're dating -> We are exclusive -> We are still dating -> We are engaged -> We are married -> We are a family

The scenario above is just about perfect and doesn't happen too often, from what I see and hear. In those cases when it doesn't, there's a mess of other terms and categories that people place themselves under. Insert this whole list of "9 types of relationships before they become exclusive" right after "We're not exclusive" stage.

I am done with my rant for now. May Pure Love and Exclusiveness be Always on your Side!

No Trespassing, Will Prosecute

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Oh the Americans and their love for signs! The longer I live here the more used my eyes get to seeing them on every fence, door and wall, but some still have a special spot in my memory.

This particular sign has deserved my special attention simply because it was scary to me. First of, I never came across such word as "TRESPASSING" in my life, it's just not something I was taught at school. Second, being an exchange student first time in the states, we all were warned about how law-abiding American citizens are and how we should try and stay as far away from trouble as possible for fear of being arrested and kicked out of the country.

So in case you ever wondered if these signs work, they do and I am the living proof of it! Picture me seeing a sign with words as "will prosecute" or "do not enter" and sprinting in the opposite direction. Either because I am a chicken, or the "good girl" my parents raised me to be, to this day: I pay my taxes, and I don't trespass.

Take that, immigrant haters!

#DirtyLaundry

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Question: What is one place that seemed so cool and magical in a weird romantic way from the scenes of Hollywood movies? 

Ok, I'll give you a hint: it's not that cool or romantic in any way. And most people actually hate this chore more than doing dishes. 

If you're thinking LAUNDROMAT (!), congratulations, you've just got one inch closer to seeing USA from where I stand.

Yes, laundromats always seemed to be the places where couples have their "couple time", kids are running around and having fun while their parents are happily loading and unloading washers and dryers. How many scenes from a movie can you remember when something bad happens at a laundromat. Zero, right? And how many of those do you picture where people accidentally run into each other, fall in love, share a kiss and discover some kind of truth or secret? All of them, I know.

I am not going to say that my little naive laundromat-crush was "crushed" by the harsh reality. My view of them has changed certainly, but I still have this feeling of "Look at me, I am all grown up and fancy going to do my laundry in those beautifully shiny massive washing machines". And I am still not giving up on the idea of something magical happening to me while I am folding my sheets and drying my socks... Because that's what laundromats are for, right?

Ok, that is all I've got to express in this post, which can undoubtedly qualify as the weirdest subject I've written on so far, it's official.

p.s. I selected this post to be featured on my blog’s page at Blog Nation.