Hollow (Wo)Man Fills In

Prompted by my friend Tanya via facebook today, I am going to get my butt in gear and finally post something this week. I have been trying to take some time over the weekends to sit down and write. However, to my never-ending surprise, the pace of life has started to pick up for us in this last week and I have been putting off the sometimes onerous task of writing in favor of... sleep, mostly. Yet today Tanya took the time out of her day to send me that most heartwarming of comments for any writer (of any sort): "I read your blog." Beautiful! Sometimes I question the validity of this weekly ritual. Am I pointlessly publishing my very personal fears and debacles, mundane triumphs (like eating all my leftovers) and embarrassing faux paus? Am I just another voice among millions online, speaking something no one will hear? This is writer's paranoia; clarified and crystallized by the endless potential readership online. Sure, millions of people COULD read my thoughts on life, but what if NONE choose to do so? That, my friends, is rejection on an epic scale.

I digress. Let me just say thanks to Tanya for A)supporting this effort, and B)Thrusting me into a heightened state of paranoia. Just kidding, about the latter anyway. On to the subject at hand...

Life! Life is starting to fill in around the edges for me lately. Whenever I move to a new place, especially someplace far removed and foreign, life has a tendency to feel a bit hollow after the initial elation wears off. There is a period of settling in, my father might call it "acclimatizing" to a new place that feels like you just can't find enough to fill the days. Sure, I managed to work a grand total of 5.5 hours in the whole of June but somehow this grueling agenda just wasn't filling up my calendar. Nor did the 110 pesos (about 25 US dollars)I earned manage to go very far toward a thrilling social life. And with no work and no money, precious few friends and an endless winter, life definitely felt like it could be giving me more.

Thankfully, July is looking up. Even as the weather has turned brutally cold and I find myself wearing sometimes 4 or 5 layers, I feel like I am slipping into a warm bath as life opens up for me. Not only am I working every day (granted only about 3 hours, on average), but we have managed to attend a party, find and sign a contract on a beautiful new apartment, and FINALLY tracked down some dark chocolate! Ah, fulfillment.

Now that I have early morning classes, I find myself pausing to listen to the birds sing in the trees of Plaza Independencia as the frost slowly saturates the ground. I like the feeling of purpose as I walk, bundled up like Ralphie from A Christmas Story, to meet my students. But wait, there's more: Pat has also managed to find some work this week! I can see the difference in his face: it is hard to feel blue when you are doing something you like, when you have a bit o' purpose in your step. I couldn't be happier for him, and I hope that he continues to find more (his weekly average is also somewhere around 3 hours).

The other change that I feel is worth mentioning is this: I have reverted to a vegetarian/omnivore diet again, demoted from the blood sucking carnivore that Argentinian meat temporarily transformed me into. Always fairly attune to my body's needs and deprivations, I decided it was time to cut back on the meat for awhile, especially red meat. In Argentina, this is something like cutting potatoes out of an Irishman's diet. No meat = no meal. But I was feeling sluggish and sore in the mornings, with low energy all day. Also, near daily headaches paired with an intense craving for sweets made me pretty much constantly cranky. Since cutting back on the meat and more than doubling my daily vegetable intake, I feel like a new woman. I sleep easier (despite waking up before sunrise), my skin looks at least twice as good, and I have the energy to actually DO stuff in the middle of the day. I know its not for everyone, and possibly not ANYone in Argentina, but I know my body and meat is like a slow poison. Delicious, juicy, and incredibly flavorful when cooked over smoky coals, but poison all the same. Try and keep it under wraps though: I haven't told my butcher and he might go all Sweeny Todd on me...

ps: It's snowing right now. Eat your heart out, beautiful Oregon summer! (please don't smite me, I love you summertime!)