How Bourgeois

I woke up two days ago with the crumpled information paper from inside the box of my new overly priced eye cream between my sheets. I had taken the folded guide with me to bed thinking that I'd partly justify the purchase of my cream by reading about the fabulous medicinal/healing properties of green fig. It took me so long to scroll through each paragraph looking for the English text amongst the dozens of other languages that I just gave up and fell asleep.

I was extra sleepy two nights ago because I'd had a horrible fight over the phone with my cell phone/internet provider. My cell bills the last two months have been ridiculously high -- $150 plus and I decided that since my internet had suddenly ceased to work it was as good a time as any to get the guys on the phone. Are you aware that "daytime" hours end at 9pm? When did 9 become the new 6? Anyway, I shamefully accosted the poor young girl on the customer service line until I got a manager who switched my plan to daytime starting at 6 and who refunded the hour that I'd been talking to her -- which after inquiry I realized I'd have paid for.

Yesterday, during my final half hour of work, a colleague and I starting on about women's obsession with overly priced denim. I admitted that the jeans I had on cost over $200 and I started feeling dull and meaningless for talking about such things around the holiday season when others were donating to charities or baking fruit loaf or something besides self-indulgence. I never used to even consider the idea of buying $200 jeans. I'm from the country where that's unheard of. My mom would be disgusted.

And let's not forget that I've been draining specialty $4 coffees at least once a day and nibbling on decedent bonbons that often go half eaten into the garbage. As we speak I'm licking spinach cream cheese off my fingers.

I'm a little tired this morning because I had a dinner party last night, which was fun times except that I think I drank too much draft beer and it was sitting like a cess pool in my stomach when I awoke. I thought I could counterbalance the problem by drinking a 500ml carton of chocolate milk but the situation hasn't improved.

Well... something I'll be thinking about over the next few days is what kind of gesture I'll do this holiday season that doesn't directly involve money or pleasure to me.

Any ideas are welcome.

The Stalker

I can't believe I've neglected this blog for so long. It's pitiful. But since it's starting to look a lot like winter today and the beginning of a new season is as good a time as any for resolutions, I've decided to try and write at least twice a week. Also, my slackness does have a root cause. I'm officially employed. I almost wrote unemployed there because the word is burned into my brain... but that ship has sailed -- I'm EMPLOYED. Proudly, properly employed. More on my new job later. I have other pressing matters to address. The Stalker.

Ok, so in the past week or so someone has been sending me disturbing and inappropriate text messages. He's an old student -- a lawyer from Mexico City. Him and I went out for some innocent drinks a while back as a farewell celebration to me since I had finished my teaching job. I didn't think much of it except that he was noticeably lonely and a bit on the Latino aggressive side (somewhat rude behavior towards servers and vocal homophobia). He sent me a few innocent text messages afterwards, "hola," "hi," "what's up." I wasn't concerned... until three days ago when this dozy popped up on my screen, "I lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you?" You have to be freakin kidding me. I immediately erased the message out of panic and disgust but now regret that hasty move cause I want to show people the evidence of his weirdness. I was going to set him up with my friend who's studying Spanish...that plan has been aborted. I think my pity of the foreigners is gone. I think my reintegration home may be complete.