I am McDonald's

It's not a secret, I am not a big fan of McDonald's. Not for health reasons (although I suspect this is a good reason), and I will admit they make a pretty tasty french fry, but in general I just abhor Mickey D's. Now, I'm all about Taco Bell (and even Wendy's), so it's not a fast food thing. It's just a McDonald's thing.

And McDonald's? Is everywhere. Well, everywhere you'd want to be. My definition of a "bad country"? Is one with no McDonald's. If McDonald's doesn't want to be there, I probably do not, either.

And, I'll give McDonald's some credit. No matter where we are in this big ole world, if there's a McDonald's? The food? Is EXACTLY the same. The menu might vary a little, but the taste? Unlike many other international fast food chains, it is dead on. Plus, sometimes they are the only option for a clean and sanitary bathroom, which does come in handy and I thank them profusely for this.

I was discussing McDonald's (and Starbucks and Wal-Mart for that matter) with some Uruguayan guys the other night, and although I've blogged about my dislike for McDonald's (and Starbucks, I suspect), I gave serious thought about doing it again.

But then I realized, that I, MYSELF am a lot like McDonald's. I come from America, I've been a lot of places, yet I'm EXACTLY the same, wherever I am. And when we get to a place with no McDonald's, I have to say for the most part? I agree with them. You just don't want to be there (exceptions: Boracay, Albania and Cambodia). Some people travel to "find themselves", whereas I just keep encountering my same self.

Just like McDonald's.

Maybe that's why I hate them.

First World Problems

FM and I? Not so much on the camping. We've done it before, even together. But in reality, our idea of "roughing it" is a 3 star hotel.

This weekend we went off to explore the northeast coast of Uruguay. Now mind you, it's winter here, and although the entire coast is dunes and beaches, it's far to cold for beaching it these days. Which means the population out there? Was a bit sparse.

As were open hotels or restaurants.

Saturday night, after six hours of driving through rain and blow, we were in Punta Del Diablo. With no apparent signs of life. MANY places for rent (signs up in Spanish), but nothing open. The closest place we KNEW was open was another hour back down the road.

Fortunately, we stumbled into the Apache Cabanas and encountered a very helpful man named Fernando who set us up in our own personal chalet for the night. Unbeknownst to us, overnight stays in this part of the world usually require you to bring your own sheets, towels, soap, TP - basically - CAMPING.

On Saturday night, however, it looked like paradise.

We had hot and cold running water, toilet, shower, electricity, heat via the fireplace (and wood provided by same helpful man!), a refrigerator, television, and possibly even a WiFi connection. And, we had brought our own coffee maker.

Basically, we were living better than 25% of the world population. And we considered it roughing it.

It's sad to think 12% of the world (and that's 803 MILLION people, almost three times the population of the US of A) do not have access to drinkable water, let alone a flush toilet or a SHOWER. 25% live without electricity. 14% are actually homeless. 25% live below the poverty level, which is ONE DOLLAR A DAY. Egads.

We have stayed in hotels in Africa one step below a Motel 6 and it was the nicest place in town. We've stayed in 4 star hotels in Cambodia where our NIGHTLY rate was the equivalent of TWO MONTHS SALARY for a local. We've drank away an average Burmese's monthly salary on a nightly basis.

Makes you think, eh?

Let us never forget how entirely blessed we are. No matter how much we want a new couch/car/kitchen, or even crab about the cost of electricity/gas/LAWNCARE, let's not forget all those people out there who would gladly trade lives with you RIGHT NOW. Who would think they hit the lotto. Who maybe might even appreciate it 1,600,000,000 times more than us.

On the other side of the coin, 25% of the world's population is considered obese. Hmmmm.

Six Weeks from Sunday. . .

Time. It's a funny thing. We waste it, pass it, bide it. Heck, sometimes we even KILL it.

Often, time seems long. When you're eight and waiting for Christmas. At work, when it's only 2:30 PM. Other times, it flies. When you're out with friends and suddenly its 2:30 AM. When you turn 40 and realize according to most actuary table, your life is HALF OVER.

Sigh.

But, FM and I tend to measure time differently. We refer to years by which country we were living in. Which, in our little universe, makes last year pretty much wasted time. And, although I can say I was in Macedonia, Croatia, Peru, Arizona and Vegas (and FM can add Mexico and Columbia), it still feels like we were home most of '09. And we WERE.

Now, It's been a year and a half since Beijing. Three years since Hong Kong. Five years since Rome. Seven years since Chad (shudder). Ten years since we were married.

Damn.

Which means I've been married for 25% of my life. Have known FM for 37.5% (of course, his stats are different, he's only been married for 17.8%, known me for 25%. He started late. . . heehee).

And last year? That wasted year? I was able to reunionize with people I haven't seen in HALF OF MY LIFE. Talk about time flying by. . .

The stats themselves are not important or impressive, just a reminder of how fast time elapses.

In the words of William Shakespeare, "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace of day to day."

Petty pace? Often I muse upon the ways I spend my days. Is it a waste of time to do the things we enjoy? Is reading a book a waste of time? Does it depend on what you are reading? When DOES it become a waste of time? When you are doing it instead of something else? Is Facebooking (is that a verb?) a waste of time? Watching television? Sitting on the beach? Taking a walk? What if I decide to not even leave the house? It can assume a petty pace, but tomorrows always beckon.

But, eventually we run out of tomorrow. Sometimes suddenly. Or the people we love cannot count another day.

The passage of time just feels sad. Not only in what it physically does to us, but in the lost seconds, hours, days and years we can never respend.

How do we live in the moment? How do you pass the time? What makes your time "worthwhile"? Being paid? Helping others? Enjoying yourself? All three?

I've been pondering this concept of time. The only conclusion I have discovered is, even if I have a hard time filling it, I want more than what I have coming.

This Sunday, we'll have been in Montevideo for six weeks. A relatively short period of time, but a chunk of my life that has figuratively flown by. And, I kind of want it back to relive and enjoy again. Yet, I also look forward to the next six weeks. And the next.

Time. It's such a conundrum.

Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them. - Dion Boucicault.

It's a WHAT?

One of the pitfalls of our kind of travel is adjusting to the "norm" in every country.

After three weeks in Montevideo, we finally found an apartment, had our cable television and WiFi installed, procured a coffee maker that, however slow, does produce drinkable coffee every morning and possess a "fully equipped" kitchen. So I can cook. And save a couple dollars. You know how I like to do that (save money, not cook)!


Our landlord, Daniel, is a very helpful guy who's English is about as good as my Spanish. We correspond via email using Google Translator, which can make for some very hilarious conversations. I got an email from him the other day regarding an extra key on my ring that said, "don't worry, the garage is undrinkable". I still haven't figured that one out. But, good to know, I guess!


But, my first day here I decided I would make some tuna salad. I started searching through the cupboards looking for a can opener. I saw this rusty, nasty THING and figured it was a broken can opener piece. So, I emailed Daniel and asked him to bring me a can opener. He emailed me back saying, there are two there. Hmmmmmm.


He arrived later that afternoon to bring our WiFi router, and I asked him to show me the can opener. He pulled this apparatus out (see above pic. I KNOW. It doesn't look like a can opener). Instead of admitting I'm an idiot and don't know how to use it, I just nodded and hoped FM had seen something like this before.


Turns out he had (it must be VERY old - LOL), and he proceeded to show me how to use it. It's not that easy. And very antiquated. But, it does open a can. Eventually. (FYI - I looked at the local supermarket for an upgrade, you know - like the one that's in YOUR drawer at home? $25. For $25 I can BITE open a can.)


Point being, traveling for extended periods of time makes you into a fairly adaptable person.

Or a person who just wants to go home. I'm opting for adaptation.

Other issues I'm struggling with:

• WHY WHY WHY do we not have hot water in our KITCHEN. Seriously.
• Our brand new updated bathroom shower? Dribbles water on you like an camel spitting.
• I so hate not having a clothes dryer. Kirsten has one. NO FAIR.
• That empty lot next door to our building? Never thought about it two weeks ago. It's now a CONSTRUCTION SIGHT. And the dudes showed up at 6:45 AM this morning. So peaceful.
• Can't find feta cheese, an integral part of my diet.

BUT. The wine is fine, the steaks are always on the BBQ (this whole town smells like a BK - in a good way), the beer is lovely and every night I get to watch the sunset off my balcony.

I guess I can struggle with canned goods for a couple months.

Yep. We are in Peru. I can tell because HERE IS AN ALPACA!  I missed these guys, they're so cute. Not as cute as a vicuna, but cute enough to take massive amounts of pictures of and say, "AWWWWW!"

Other things that have happened since arriving:

• Stuck in the suburbs for the first week, venturing out only at night when accompanied by my bodyguards
• Read too much information about the dangers and pitfalls of Lima, left me feeling too chicken shit to take camera out of bag
• Moved to apartment in Miraflores, very safe area of town, now feel comfortable walking around to some areas
• Arranged for private driver for FM to take him to work and back, so he doesn't have to talk to taxi cab drivers
• Managed to make my BRAND NEW TENNIS SHOES stink already
• Got a SIM card for my phone
• Argued with Comcast cable about my bill for ONE HOUR
• Drank some beer
• Drank some wine
• Ate octopus salad (acceptable, think it was better in Croatia, however spotty readers to this blog would NEVER know I was in Croatia. In February.)

and, oh yea.

• Found out as of June 30, FM doesn't have a job anymore with his current employer.

Must find new job in order to continue Flatbacking lifestyle. Sigh.
Also visited some ancient Lima Culture ruins near my house, which can be viewed at http://www.aroundtheworldin80beers.net/id47.html if you are interested. Or not.

I hate pretentiousness

And, no, I'm not talking about the election. But, if I was, I'd tell you to make sure you VOTE TOMORROW. And, I'd like to tell you who to vote FOR, but I guess that's your choice. Meh.

I am talking about paying damn good money for sub-par food, though.

Saturday night was a surprise 40th birthday party for my nephew (how I have a nephew older than me can be blamed right on FM) held at a restaurant here in town called Bistro Bella Vita.

They have a reputation for good food and better martini's. I did not join in the martini fun, knowing I had to drive home, but did consume a couple draft beers. And food that was no good.

This place is filled with posh looking couples and groups of people clinking martini and wine glasses and looking like they stepped out of magazine pages. Ocassionally I would see someone eating. More of a place to be seen on a Saturday night than anything. I must say, it's been more than eight years since I've been there, and I do remember the food being AT LEAST EDIBLE.

When I break down and shell out triple digits (or FM does) for dinner, I do expect it to be FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC. Especially triple digits in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

If I had been served FM's Boeuf Bourguignonne, it would have went straight back to the kitchen. It was SO SALTY. I declared it inedible, but being we had waited over an hour and a half for it to arrive, FM just quietly gobbled it down and waited for his ankles to swell.

I had the Skate, which is a very light and delicate ray fish which the cook (chef? dare I call him that?) had used about three times too much oil to prepare.

And our Greek Salad appetizer? Since when are there no peppers in a Greek salad. And why the fennel? Not that fennel is bad, it just does not belong in my Greek Salad. Which, by the way, neither does SPINACH.

Whatever. At least you could eat it.

Woke up in the night with a very upset stomach.

In other news, our 1995 Taurus finally lost it's transmission enroute to one of the more exquisite golf courses around town. Whilst being followed by our financial advisor driving his brand new BMW.

Thank God he was there.

And Mike got SENIOR RATES at the course. Saved us $10, but made him feel a little sad, I think. Yes, we are golfing in November in Michigan. Going again tomorrow, as it promises to be 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

The junk yard gave us enough money for the car to cover our golf on Friday or our dinner on Saturday. But not both.

Sigh.

Is Sarah Palin a Policitian or Stand-Up Comedian?

Without getting into a HUGE political debate (O-BAMA-O-BAMA), I must say, I'm confused. Is she giving speeches or perfecting her comedy routine?

Now, don't get me wrong. I like my politicians to have wit and charm. But I also like them to be able to speak about ISSUES without delivering a BADDA-BING after every point.

I just met this gal last week and she's already making me tired. Silly bobblehead.

I fear the average American will vote for her, thinking they're putting Tina Fey into office and at least she'll be good for a laugh over the next four years. Or maybe they think that was here on SNL.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26725961/

My Brain Hurts

All I have been doing since Friday is stressing out about buying/changing airline tickets, travel dates, hotel reservations, talking on the phone to airlines and basically ripping my hair from my head.

I think I have a career as a travel agent in my future. Obviously, I have the experience. I know more about the available flights, schedules, and change fees than the representatives I'm talking to. Sorda.

I think we are sorted out now.

I hope.

You're Standing on My Last Nerve

Lately, I've been a bit of a bitch.


Okay, maybe I'm always a bit of a bitch and lately I've been a whole lot more.


But, man. People are really getting on my nerves. It was so bad Monday night I decided to stay inside and not interact with anyone on Tuesday. I needed a time out.


Yesterday I felt a bit better and did interface with a few people.


And then we went to Paddy O'Sheas to watch the basketball game. Besides meeting an awesome gal from Maryland and her son who kindly shared their table with us, everyone else in the place, including the staff was UNDER MY SKIN.


I don't know if it's Beijing, hormones, boredom, tiredness (is that a word?) or what, but I'm starting to think I'm about one idiot away from going postal.

It doesn't feel good.

HELP!