It's the simple things that make me happy. The internet and no shoes.
For some of those who know the boring details, it has been two months and I still do not have internet at my apartment. However, I should have it as of next week. Many of us would be thrilled to throw our Blackberrys/iPhones (or other PDSa) out the window, escape from our computers, shut off our emails. But when you have moved out of the country and are trying to (a) communicate with your friends and loved ones back home because a phone call is $4 a minute and Skype/Logitech/email are fabulous, and (b) trying to make administrative things happen (leasing, subleasing, banking, phone, internet, cars, medical, etc.), both in your home and new country, it gets a little hectic running in out of cafes which have internet.
So, I will spare you the icky details and just say, hurrah for internet next week!
And this morning I went to the gym. There is one gym on the island (8,000 residents on the island, btw). I decided to shower in the 30-second shower (it turns on for 30 seconds at a time -- water is not abundant here -- this is a very funny contrast to Reebok gym in NYC which is 140,000 square feet.) and head into town, Gustavia, after the gym instead of going home. But I forgot my shoes. A brightly colored sundress and Nike sneakers is really not an attractive look. But it's really okay to skip across the street from my car to a cafe in bare feet. Not my first choice, but nobody looked at me like I was crazy. And it was nice to have barefeet dangling off my coffee-bar stool. . .
Friday, May 6, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Sleeping with the Enemy
I promise to post some beautiful pictures of St. Barth soon enough.
Until then, I will share some of the "realities" of SBH.
My two perceived enemies of the island are the sun and the mosquito.
Now the sun I love. It's bright, warm and lovely. I really love the hot weather. No complaints here. I love it when it it bright out. Totally lifts my spirits. It just has to potential to damage the skin/give you cancer. A little concerning. So I am a little SPF crazy. Sunglasses, hat sometimes, etc. The higher the SPF, the better, although there is no proof that the 100+ SPF is any better than 15/30. I just like the way it sounds.
And the mosquito. The french pronunciation is "moo-steek" which I smile at every time I hear it. The moo-steek is smaller than the northeastern U.S. moo-steek but just as vicious. And can give you dengue fever. Which is no walk in the park. These little buggers surround our ankles and calves like no tomorrow. And when the light is out, bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz around our heads when we are in bed. I am going to go purchase a mosquito net for my bed. I used to think they were an expensive decorating technique. They are actually a necessity in some parts of the world.
My favorite defense against the moo-steek is the moo-steek racquet. It looks like a small tennis racquet and the net part becomes electrified when you push a button. You simply swat at the moo-steek and ZAP! It catches it in the net and zaps it. Very satisfying. I walk around with it constantly.
Bridgette is not such of the fan. Of the moo-steek or the racquet.
Until then, I will share some of the "realities" of SBH.
My two perceived enemies of the island are the sun and the mosquito.
Now the sun I love. It's bright, warm and lovely. I really love the hot weather. No complaints here. I love it when it it bright out. Totally lifts my spirits. It just has to potential to damage the skin/give you cancer. A little concerning. So I am a little SPF crazy. Sunglasses, hat sometimes, etc. The higher the SPF, the better, although there is no proof that the 100+ SPF is any better than 15/30. I just like the way it sounds.
And the mosquito. The french pronunciation is "moo-steek" which I smile at every time I hear it. The moo-steek is smaller than the northeastern U.S. moo-steek but just as vicious. And can give you dengue fever. Which is no walk in the park. These little buggers surround our ankles and calves like no tomorrow. And when the light is out, bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz around our heads when we are in bed. I am going to go purchase a mosquito net for my bed. I used to think they were an expensive decorating technique. They are actually a necessity in some parts of the world.
My favorite defense against the moo-steek is the moo-steek racquet. It looks like a small tennis racquet and the net part becomes electrified when you push a button. You simply swat at the moo-steek and ZAP! It catches it in the net and zaps it. Very satisfying. I walk around with it constantly.
Bridgette is not such of the fan. Of the moo-steek or the racquet.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Dog Feelings
Bridgette and I had a rough transition onto St. Barth. I am sure some Cesar Millan person would tell me that I created the monster, which indeed, I am sure I did. But our first five weeks here were torture.
Bridgette is a rescue. She is nine years old and I have had her not even two years. But she is a wonderful dog. Never barks when I leave her and may be a bit indifferent towards strangers, but has come around and is even quite friendly these days. She travels like a rock star.
When I left her for five weeks with my mom and Lou in December and January for vacation to St. Barth, she didn't eat well for a few days, but eventually came around. She was sad, but eventually adjusted.
Well, she panicked when we moved to St. Barth in March. I essentially could not leave without her barking for the entire time I was gone. This is a dog who I didn't even hear bark for two months. She certainly found her voice. She was so calm when she was out with me in public, my friend on the island called me a drama queen describing how hysterical Bridgette got when I left. Bridgette was like a wild crazy beast when I left her at home.
This did not work so well since I lived a stone's throw from my landlord. And I liked to get up early and my neighbor did not rise until after I did. I was essentially trapped in my apartment. And then I had to take her everywhere. Luckily, I could take here everywhere -- restaurants and the like. But it became exhausting. And impractical. But I kept doing it.
I tried leaving clothes of mine of the floor. We visited the vet for homeopathic remedies. Dog bones. Distractions. Trying to leave for 3 minutes, then 5 then 10, then longer. Didn't work. She would bark and I would return, essentially rewarding the barking behavior. I would leave and tap on the window, try to distract her. It took me hours to get out the door and eventually I would just bring her anyway. People asked me what I did all day. I couldn't bear to explain.
When we went to New Jersey and returned to St. Barth this past Monday, I think Bridgette realized this is our home for now. A little bit of panic and she has to sleep in my closet amongst my clothes (picture below), but no more barking fits. It makes a huge difference. I can actually leave my apartment sans chien.
Our dogs, we love 'em and will do just about anything for 'em. . .
Bridgette is a rescue. She is nine years old and I have had her not even two years. But she is a wonderful dog. Never barks when I leave her and may be a bit indifferent towards strangers, but has come around and is even quite friendly these days. She travels like a rock star.
When I left her for five weeks with my mom and Lou in December and January for vacation to St. Barth, she didn't eat well for a few days, but eventually came around. She was sad, but eventually adjusted.
Well, she panicked when we moved to St. Barth in March. I essentially could not leave without her barking for the entire time I was gone. This is a dog who I didn't even hear bark for two months. She certainly found her voice. She was so calm when she was out with me in public, my friend on the island called me a drama queen describing how hysterical Bridgette got when I left. Bridgette was like a wild crazy beast when I left her at home.
This did not work so well since I lived a stone's throw from my landlord. And I liked to get up early and my neighbor did not rise until after I did. I was essentially trapped in my apartment. And then I had to take her everywhere. Luckily, I could take here everywhere -- restaurants and the like. But it became exhausting. And impractical. But I kept doing it.
I tried leaving clothes of mine of the floor. We visited the vet for homeopathic remedies. Dog bones. Distractions. Trying to leave for 3 minutes, then 5 then 10, then longer. Didn't work. She would bark and I would return, essentially rewarding the barking behavior. I would leave and tap on the window, try to distract her. It took me hours to get out the door and eventually I would just bring her anyway. People asked me what I did all day. I couldn't bear to explain.
When we went to New Jersey and returned to St. Barth this past Monday, I think Bridgette realized this is our home for now. A little bit of panic and she has to sleep in my closet amongst my clothes (picture below), but no more barking fits. It makes a huge difference. I can actually leave my apartment sans chien.
Our dogs, we love 'em and will do just about anything for 'em. . .
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
St. Barth is an island known for its tourism. More specifically, tourists who have money and often, those who are famous. (This is not the reason I moved here -- there are plenty of tourists, money and famous people in New York City). Particularly around the Christmas season, parties abound. Sun, sea, yachts and Cristal champagne.
Lest you might think someone with no job actually lives like this, I thought I would give you a peek into my daily living. When I lived in New York, worked seven days a week and sometimes didn't go to sleep, it was necessary to gather my laundry, drop it off with the doorman, have a laundry service pick it up and wash it. I would pick it up the next day and never even put it away. I would just pull it out of the bag and wear it.
When I quit my job and lived in New York, I indeed did my own laundry. But it definitely did not look like this:
And then I swept my stoop! Ah, it's the good life!!! :)
Lest you might think someone with no job actually lives like this, I thought I would give you a peek into my daily living. When I lived in New York, worked seven days a week and sometimes didn't go to sleep, it was necessary to gather my laundry, drop it off with the doorman, have a laundry service pick it up and wash it. I would pick it up the next day and never even put it away. I would just pull it out of the bag and wear it.
When I quit my job and lived in New York, I indeed did my own laundry. But it definitely did not look like this:
And then I swept my stoop! Ah, it's the good life!!! :)
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Six Month Hiatus From the Hiatus
It's been six months since my last post. November, 2, 2010. I stopped writing because, despite quitting my job and attempting to pursue my life long passion, whatever that may be, my life was clicking along with nothing particularly special going on. Boring.
So I quit my job in April, 2010. It's been almost a year. And I have become inspired to write again. Inspired by a couple of things. Inspired because I have lost someone very special to me. And inspired because I have fallen in love.
Lou, my stepfather, died. He was a wonderful man and I was fortunate enough to be at his and my mother's home for the last couple of weeks of his life. Even more fortunate to be by his side as he died. He was a humble, sweet, affectionate, kind, loving and generous man. Truly, people like me stand on the shoulders of giants like Lou's to even get a glimpse of what the world could possibly be like. I wake up now, thinking about my day, and wondering what Lou would do. How would Lou do it?
He made such an impact on so many people. He was not a politician. He was not a rich man. He was not famous. He did not hold the answer to cure the world's problems. He was an ordinary man who had a faith in God beyond most and a love for his wife and family beyond the pale. He just simply loved God, his fellow man and lived a life of humility and gratitude. He actually loved life.
So, I have had the rare opportunity to have someone so wonderful in my life. I can only take this example and use it as a guide blueprint for my future.
As far as falling in love, I did some travel as people are wont to do when they quit their jobs. I intended to travel to Southeast Asia for several months, then thought it too sad to travel for that long alone. I wanted to learn how to speak French so thought about France, but then thought it was too cold in the fall, so eventually decided on St. Martin and St. Barth. Long story short, I went to St. Martin and did not like it very much, but then went to St. Barth and fell in love with an island. Immediately. I was traveling over the holidays -- the busiest season of the year -- and decided I wanted to stay an extra week. Nearly impossible to do to find a hotel room. But where there is a will there is a way. I stayed an extra week. Then another (and with my mother's amazing grace -- she agreed to keep Bridgette even with a sick husband and having to walk Bridgette in the middle of the winter). And another. During that time, I decided I wanted to return to St. Barth, making a life in St. Barth and New York.
And this is where my new career/life would be centered around.
So, I have never had a dream. Kind of weird. Kind of sad. But I had a dream while I was on this trip to live on St. Barth. I am still formulating what the career/job/business will be, but it will involve St. Barth.
So, I have not answered whether quitting my job is reckless or limitless. But there is no end goal anymore. It is indeed the journey. If I flop, I flop. It is all about experiences. I experienced Lou's death in a way I could never have had I worked at a law firm or had a job in the states. I happened to be in transition and was able to spend the time with him and my mother without rushing to and from a job and giving my every devoted moment to them. I would never trade that for anything. It doesn't matter if I am 5 years behind in my career. Or 10.
There are many facets to this choice. To be continued. . .
So I quit my job in April, 2010. It's been almost a year. And I have become inspired to write again. Inspired by a couple of things. Inspired because I have lost someone very special to me. And inspired because I have fallen in love.
Lou, my stepfather, died. He was a wonderful man and I was fortunate enough to be at his and my mother's home for the last couple of weeks of his life. Even more fortunate to be by his side as he died. He was a humble, sweet, affectionate, kind, loving and generous man. Truly, people like me stand on the shoulders of giants like Lou's to even get a glimpse of what the world could possibly be like. I wake up now, thinking about my day, and wondering what Lou would do. How would Lou do it?
He made such an impact on so many people. He was not a politician. He was not a rich man. He was not famous. He did not hold the answer to cure the world's problems. He was an ordinary man who had a faith in God beyond most and a love for his wife and family beyond the pale. He just simply loved God, his fellow man and lived a life of humility and gratitude. He actually loved life.
So, I have had the rare opportunity to have someone so wonderful in my life. I can only take this example and use it as a guide blueprint for my future.
As far as falling in love, I did some travel as people are wont to do when they quit their jobs. I intended to travel to Southeast Asia for several months, then thought it too sad to travel for that long alone. I wanted to learn how to speak French so thought about France, but then thought it was too cold in the fall, so eventually decided on St. Martin and St. Barth. Long story short, I went to St. Martin and did not like it very much, but then went to St. Barth and fell in love with an island. Immediately. I was traveling over the holidays -- the busiest season of the year -- and decided I wanted to stay an extra week. Nearly impossible to do to find a hotel room. But where there is a will there is a way. I stayed an extra week. Then another (and with my mother's amazing grace -- she agreed to keep Bridgette even with a sick husband and having to walk Bridgette in the middle of the winter). And another. During that time, I decided I wanted to return to St. Barth, making a life in St. Barth and New York.
And this is where my new career/life would be centered around.
So, I have never had a dream. Kind of weird. Kind of sad. But I had a dream while I was on this trip to live on St. Barth. I am still formulating what the career/job/business will be, but it will involve St. Barth.
So, I have not answered whether quitting my job is reckless or limitless. But there is no end goal anymore. It is indeed the journey. If I flop, I flop. It is all about experiences. I experienced Lou's death in a way I could never have had I worked at a law firm or had a job in the states. I happened to be in transition and was able to spend the time with him and my mother without rushing to and from a job and giving my every devoted moment to them. I would never trade that for anything. It doesn't matter if I am 5 years behind in my career. Or 10.
There are many facets to this choice. To be continued. . .
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