A cleaner house

I've been having a somewhat lazy day. It's 12:34 pm and I am still in my pjs. Last night I had big plans to go to the gym this morning (I went twice last week but haven't been once yet this week), but the new Harry Potter novel arrived in the mail yesterday, and I forgot how addictive they are.

So instead of going to the gym, I spent a few hours lying in bed and reading, which has to be one of my favourite ways to spend a morning. I do miss not having a paper to read - I used to while away hours reading the newspaper on weekends. But although I miss the act of reading the paper, I somehow don't miss not knowing what's going on in the world. I rarely turn on my TV to watch the news on CNN or BBC, and even though I could access any number of news web sites, I never do. I've realized now how much of my news I used to get passively, by listening to CBC while driving to work, or listening to it while getting reading in the morning or making dinner. However, not really knowing what is going out there just doesn't bother me these days.

To justify not going to the gym, I spent a few hours cleaning my house. I am still amazed at how dirty my beautiful flat gets in just a few days. I am constantly battling the cat hair, and dust, and always losing.
Last weekend I vacuumed before having my friends over for lunch, yet their 11 month old son's white shoes were black at the toes after he crawled around for an hour or so. So today, I vacuumed then swiffered. And it's cleaner. But in two days, it will all be back.

I really need a cleaning lady.

20 years later

A few weeks ago my high school class celebrated the 20th anniversary of our graduation with a multi day/event reunion. (Yes, I said 20 years. I can't really believe it either . . .)

I was sorry to miss it, particularly the VideoMax dance that was planned for the Saturday evening. If you were a teenager anywhere in North America in the mid-to-late 80s, you'll know what a video dance is. My high school, much like the fictional high school immortalized in the 80s movie Footloose, banned dances on high school property until the year I graduated (I'll let you do the math for when that was). As a result, I spent most of my high school years attending teen dances at the community hall, dancing (or more often, wishing I was dancing) in front of a giant video screen showing the hottest videos of the day.

But I digress. Thinking about the reunion, and wishing I could attend it, made me realize several things. First, I realized that I have known many of the people who eventually attended the reunion since I was in elementary school, some from the first day I started kindergarten. Living in a place where no one has known me for longer than a few months makes me yearn for some of that shared history. It's hard to beat friendships developed over a lifetime.

Then I started thinking about what I was like in high school, and how my life has unfolded over the last twenty years.

Since I was a young child, I have always vaguely wanted to be a writer, although I remember agonizing over what to study in university (for a while I wanted to study math!) my last year of high school. But, I never envisioned that I'd end up as a technical writer.

And I assumed that 20 years later, I would be married and have a few kids.

However as bookwormy teenager, I always dreamed that I'd live in the Europe (mostly Paris) that Hemingway and others wrote about. So, I guess it's not that bad of a trade off to miss my high school reunion to fulfill a 20 year-old-dream.

But I still wish I could have gone - if you are reading this, and you have stories about the reunion, please share with me!

The more things change . . .

One of my goals when I moved to Europe was to create more of a work life balance. I thought that the pace of life would be slower here in Europe, and that work schedules would be less hectic.

However, I should have realized that even though I have changed continents, I haven't changed my career (or my company), and work doesn't slow down when you change time zones.

So it's back to burning the midnight oil for the next little while.

Pilates. In Polish . . .

I joined a gym a few weeks ago, but with flying off to Italy, working 12 hour days, and a whirlwind trip to the Czech Republic, I haven't had a chance to go until today.

It's really hot in Krakow this week (35 degrees today), and I've been feeling a little wiped out from my last few weeks, so I decided to attend the Pilates and Yoga class tonight. I thought it would be easier.

What I didn't factor in was that although I have taken many yoga classes, I have never taken a Pilates class before. And that in Pilates, apparently you spend much of your time lying on your back, or on your stomach with your head face down, contorting your body in unusual (and sometimes painful) positions, and you can't actually watch the instructor.

Which is a bit of a problem when you don't understand the language she is speaking in.

But, it pretty much worked out. I told the instructor before the class started that I didn't speak Polish, and that I would try to follow by watching. She speaks English, but the class is in Polish, so every once in a while she'd catch my eye and sort of gesture to me what I should be doing.

I think it went well enough. I feel muscles that I forgot I had, so something was getting a workout. And the instructor told me after that I was doing everything correctly.

And as a bonus, I could understand when she was counting down how many reps we had left - those Polish lessons are paying off.

I may even brave an aerobics class later this week.

Po Polsku

I started my Polish lessons yesterday! I have my second lesson tomorrow morning. I wonder how long it will take me to be able to say more then "Hello, Goodbye, see you later, please and thank you" in Polish.

We spent much of our first lesson just going over the alphabet. But even that was exciting to me, as I have been desperate to be able to communicate for a while. I am often silent when I am in all Polish environments like the grocery stores, or other public places. And you know how unusual that is for me.

Polish is tough for me - my mouth is not used to making the sounds, and I can't understand much, even when I try hard to listen. Most days I just tune out the Polish being spoken all around me.

I didn't realize how tough, until I went to Italy on the weekend. I've been in Italy for a total of about 6 weeks in the last three years, yet I felt like I could speak the language or at least understand it. I could read what was on signs, and almost hold conversations (well, I couldn't actually say much other than Si,but I could understand the gist of what most people were saying to me).

But, I am hoping that will all change soon. However, I have to realize 2 hours a week will not work miracles. But I even have a text book now - "Hurra, Po Polsku 1"

Procrastination

I should be figuring out how to pay my bills online using my Polish bank account, but I can't remember how I logged into it, and it's late, and I haven't blogged for a while . . .

I got back late last night from a lovely 4 days in Umbria, Italy. As usual, Italy was fantastic. It's my third vacation trip to Italy in the last 3 years, and I love it more each time. Lots of stories this time, including driving the smallest car I have ever driven up and down over a mountain road that was little more than a track, but once again it's late in Poland and the stories will have to wait for another time.

When I got back to work today, I received two long-awaited items: my company car (wheels!) and my mobile phone (communication!). I haven't really missed having either a car or a mobile phone but I was happy to get both today. I am a little sad that my walking to work days may be over - but I'll just have to make the effort more now that I have alternate transportation.

So keep me honest and ask me periodically how many times I have walked to work that week.

Gotta go - more later - I promise . . .

Oh Canada!

I've been thinking a lot about Canada and Canada Day this week, in a large part because my brother Matt created a font of iconic Canadian images (aptly named Adanac), which was then published in the National Post on Thursday. You can download your own copy from the 10four design link on this page. I'm pretty proud of my little brother (as many of you will know after receiving multiple emails about the subject).

But also, I've been thinking about what it means to be an expat. It's hard to express what it feels like to be in a country where not many people know much about your home, and where most people assume that I am American.

When I went hiking with 40 people from my office last weekend, most people wanted to know more about Canada. Did I hike in Canada? What were the mountains like in Canada? Does everyone speak French in Canada (this seemed to be the most common question, and they all seemed a little shocked when I explained that not everyone in Canada speaks French, and not many outside of Quebec speak it fluently). When Matt sent me a poster of his font, I took the opportunity to send it to my entire office, encouraging them to learn more about Canadians, and to use their newfound knowledge in conversation with their Canadian colleagues. I can only imagine how they will work John Candy, mullets, the jolly jumper and nanaimo bars into their next business meetings . . .

So it's a little weird to be the sole Canadian in my social circle in Krakow today. I looked online to see if there were any Canada Day celebrations in the city and couldn't find anything. I haven't wanted to seek out other Canadians or other expats since I have been here, but today, I understand a bit more about why communities of immigrants and expats gather together. Some days, you just want to be with people who understand your shorthand and your shared history (and don't just assume that you are an American).

Since I was a grad student in Waterloo, my friends and I have had an annual Canada Day get together. It's been getting smaller over the years, but some of us always manage to get together and do something to celebrate. My friends Shannon and Norm sent me this memento of their Canada Day in Waterloo.



Happy Canada Day to you all!

Time

The Poles follow the 24 hour clock - my clock, appliances, work calendar all show up in 24 hour time format.

Which really makes more sense, since there's never the problem between AM and PM. However, last night I was awake at midnight, and found it a little distressing to see 0:00 on the clock.