Friday, 4 February 2011
All By Myself
Masturbation was NOT an option! Too soon?
It´s almost one month since my return to Bogotá and things have changed. My previous land lady,the oh so charming Maritza, has fled to New Zealand (can I get an Amen?) in search of more money meaning that her outside man has been staying in the apartment so as to carry out the administration of the apartment and ensure that I adhere to dear, old Maritza´s house rules and recommendations. José doesn´t particularly like me but he tries to have conversations with me that are irrelevant, unnecessary and VERY awkward. Furthermore, I only started at the University this week meaning that I found myself having A LOT of free time to myself and no one to talk to during the day and night for that matter. So what did I do to occupy my time alone in the apartment? This blog seeks to answer that question by chronicling a day in my life.
1)Talked To Myself
My mother has always told me that talking to yourself does mean that you´re crazy unless of course you answer yourself. Keeping Mom´s advice in mind has made me feel less crazy- then again, being crazy is relative- about what I did on that day. I staged grand conversations with myself in English and Spanish that covered a number of topics. I actually answered myself making the neighbours think that there was more than one person in the apartment at any given time. It´s understandable that I talk to myself because I have a very active imagination and I always have an opinion to share; this is just a fancy way of saying that I LOVE to talk. The funny thing is that after about an hour I was annoyed at the sound of my voice, it´s just so high and irritating. Now I understand why people randomly walk away or else ignore me when I´m talking to much.
Once the novelty of talking to myself had worn off, I had to find something to occupy my time. I started to observe the fruits in the fruit basket, touching them to see if they were spoilt. Before I realised it, I was on her bookshelf admiring her book collection. She has a wide selection of books that focus on langauge learning, cooking and "How You Can Have God In Your Life!" There were three bottles of Argentine and Chilean wine and they were all sealed. There was a wine container box thingy labelled, "El Buen Vivir Comunicaciones", filled to the brim with pens of varying sizes and ink colour. On further examination, I noticed that ALL the pens were labelled with the name of some alcoholic beverage like, Black and White Scotch Whiskey, Santa Lorena Wine and Grey Goose Vodka. Employing my skills from Writing for Academic Purposes Option Two, I deduced that Maritza probably worked in some sort of alcoholic distribution company like Angostura but a Colombian version. Bolstered by my amazing deduction and "macoing" skills, I proceeded to the cupboard at the end of the corridor. I knew that it was filled with boxes but I had never opened them so I figured that it would be another adventure- EAT YOUR HEART OUT DORA! I opened all ten boxes and noticed that there were mostly paintings, ceramics, decorative straw hats and other knick knacks that you decorate your home with. Obviously, Maritza hadn´t finished unpacking following her move to the Takay Apartment Complex. After yet another stellar deduction I started to wonder whether or not being a Deducer was an actual form of employment. We need to get some people on that! As I was placing the boxes in the cupboard my eyes drifted to her locked bedroom door. The cogs in my brain started whirring and I was actually pondering, picking the lock with a knife so as to "see" what she has in her room without being bothered. I decided against it because I felt like a criminal just thinking about it and I was pretty sure that a knife couldn´t pick that lock. The next exploration site was the area on the side of the radio where Maritza has her CD collection. Guess what I did next?
3)Sang Loudly and Danced
I had been listening to soca earlier and I was still in the singing mood so one can well imagine the joy that I experienced when I found some karaoke CDs. They were called, "Let´s Sing, Volumes One to Three" and they included songs from artistes like Seal, Eminem, Shakira, Destiny´s Child and Queen just to name a few. I put on Volume One and lay back, quite contented, listening to the mellow jams that this CD boasted. Suddenly, I heard the first chords of "What´s Up" by 4 Non- Blondes (YouTube it if you don´t know who they are!)and next thing, I was on my feet with my remote mike in hand screaming at the top of my lungs, "WHAT´S GOING ON?" It was all uphill from here as the songs got better and better so much so that I stripped to my undies to dance like Tom Cruise did in "Jerry McGuire". The singing and dancing continued for the majority of the evening and I wasn´t worried about my neighbours hearing because they´re like potted plants, just existing! When I started to sound like Whitney Houston post- cocaine abuse, I decided it was time to wrap up the karaoke session so I sat on the ground, held my remote mike and belted out "My Life Will Go On" by Celine Dion. My eyes started to sting at the end of the song as I envisioned Leonardo DiCaprio/Jack Dawson sinking to the bottom of the ocean as Kate Winslet/Rose Dewitt- Bukater vowed to never stop loving him. Titanic oui!
4)Cooked and Observed My Neighbours
After my marathon karaoke session, I was hungry so I decided to bubble ah pot of tinned red beans with bacon to be eaten with the macaroni and curried chicken I had in the fridge. While the red beans were cooking I found myself doing what I do best sometimes, that is, observing my neighbours or "macoing" through my kitchen window. This was about the time when everyone was coming home so I was able to guess based on what they were wearing where they worked. The majority of them work in the hospitals as nurses or doctors. I was trying to use my Grey´s Anatomy knowledge to deduce what part of the hospital they worked based on the colour of their scrubs but that failed. There are a lot of families that live in the complex as well since men, women and children yelling, "Papi!" kept coming into the complex. While I was "macoing" a new family was actually moving in and their little white, panel van was fit to burst with all manner of household things. The mother kept on scolding the boy because he didn´t want to help move the stuff into the apartment. Honestly, if I had to climb those twenty five steps to Apartment 501, toting a bed post, I would have not wanted to do anything as well. Eventually, night had fallen and the smell of cooked red beans wafted through the apartment. I thought, "Observing your neighbours can be so tiring!", as I sat eating and watching Ugly Betty.
I really hope this blog post answered the question posed in the first paragraph. Until next time, ah tired!