Travel Tips

I walked the two miles home from work today, came in, opened the windows, got down to my unders and lay on top of the bed with the blinds open for 15 minutes. So nice (3rd and top floor apartment, little chance of voyeurs). I wanted to sit outside and drink margaritas, but no one took me up soon enough. Then I took an Allegra, and apparently I'm not supposed to drink a margarita now. According to Gabe. But the Pimm's Cup he made me is ok.

I do not want to announce these things on Facebook/Twitter/blog, so that's what livejournal's good for.

Low-key day at work in the absence of Madame.

I miss the hype of New Orleans pre-Mardi Gras season. One of the things I miss most is King Cake. Before New Orleans, I had a few encounters with King Cake and always thought it was stale, kinda gross coffee cake. But then I found a good King Cake in New Orleans and I fell in looove. Someone at work just had to say "King Cake" and I was off to the little corner store, dropping $11 on gooey, sugar-covered pastry.

I have Mardi Gras 2010 wishes.

Thanks for all the kudos and observations, friends.

Last night, as I biked home from work, I got hit by a moto(rcycle - we just call them "motos"). I was "changing lanes" which is an false description of what I was doing, as there are no lanes, so I just bike quickly from the right side of the road to the left. Anyway, I swerved to avoid a couple crossing the road and then got in the way of this moto and he hit me. I lost my balance and fell into the bushes planted on the median. I'm sure it was hilarious, but it scared the sweet'n'salty alligators out of me, as well as once again crushing my pride and dignity.

But all is well and all I have to show for this traffic tangle is a tiny little scratch on my arm. Boo.

Since I started working here, I have reread every livejournal entry I wrote since 2002, in both my livejournals. It reminded me of some things I'd forgotten (the Frenchman in the fax machine, my 20th birthday roommate sing-a-long) and took me back to events I'll never forget.

I was also appalled and humiliated by some of the things I'd written about (basically every entry where I publicize intoxication) and considered deleting some things. I decided I should embrace my stupidity and just leave these things be.

Moving on... I went to a co-worker's housewarming party this weekend. I met another co-worker's husband, who, about five sentences into our conversation, made the mistake of questioning my long-distance relationship. I will hold him in contempt forever.

Since moving from St. Louis in 2006 and remaining in my relationship, people expressed doubt about usually, my boyfriend's ability to stick with me. They always make some kind of face or comment that implies that I'm an idiot and of course he's cheating. Well, folks, let me just point to my slightly sullied record and then tell you that just because YOU'RE an unfaithful douche who'd cheat on your girlfriend or wife if she left you alone for two weeks, doesn't mean everyone is. Long-distance is difficult enough. I know what I'm doing, and I've been doing it long enough to know that I don't need someone's poor, know-it-all "advice".

I feel like this is the worst-written thing ever. Pardon.

More updates to come in the future, now that I have daily internet access.

I started a new job at PSI Togo today (psi.org for more info). I'm still a Peace Corps volunteer, but now I live in the capital and have electricity, running water, a roommate, a dog and a 9-5 job.

This is what I did today:
- toured the office with my roommate, JT
- one meeting with Communications staff, which didn't concern me too much
- one meeting with my supervisor
- toured the office again with my supervisor, meeting most of the people I'd met earlier a second or third time
- deleted or archived more than 100 emails from my Gmail account. To do this, I actually read or at least skimmed most of those emails

So what I'm saying is that I spent all day playing on the internet. When I got up to go home around 5:45, the guy sitting next to me goes, "It's not time yet. Still 15 minutes." I was like, "Ok... but I don't have anything to do." But I stayed anyway. Here I am now. I thought work ended at 5:30.

Tomorrow I'll take some initiative and do something. For now... time to go home.

I have nine minutes left of the hour of internet time I purchased, knowing that when the taxi guys told me we would leave in 15 minutes (8 am), they meant 15 minutes plus several hours, at least. They tell you 15 minutes because they think that's what you want to hear. This is what I get for taking my sweet time leaving the house this morning, instead of getting up at 5 and leaving immediately.

Been in Dapaong since Thursday night, when I got here from conferences in the south. Thought I would have to go back to village on Sunday for a funeral (see latest blog update for that story), but got no calls, so I stayed for Easter celebrations with other volunteers. And then I just stayed on Monday too... if travel wasn't such a hassle, going back to village would be easier.

Five minutes left, I'd better go. You never know how long something will take to upload.

I miss cheese.

I know I said I was through with livejournal for a while, but just wanted to say hi.

I just finished 10 weeks of training in a really gorgeous part of the country. Our training group swore-in Thursday evening in Lome (capital of Togo) and we're now officially volunteers. We leave for our villages on Monday morning. I'm going to Sagbiebou, in the northern region, Savannes.

I went to the beach today. Now there's a ridiculous amount of sand in my hair that apparently my quick shower didn't get rid of.

To read more about my adventures, go to http://lindaintogo.blogspot.com. I've been able to update about once a week, but this will probably change (hopefully not) once I get to village. I think the nearest internet cafe is 30 minutes away by bush taxi. We'll see how long that is by bike.