Tag Archives: Blogging

In Which Something Was Easier Than Expected. Finally.

I got some emails when I wrote that melancholic sounding post about a week ago saying, “You don’t sound like yourself. What’s wrong?” Nothing that I don’t think time can’t heal, so let’s move on, shall we?

Not so fast.

I noticed an interesting trend. Perhaps, I should say that I’ve been noticing an interesting trend: I get more page views and comments when I post about something depressing, a personal failure, an illness, etc., than when I post something to the effect of: “Everything is going great!” The internet is strange that way, but I hope it’s out of genuine understanding or concern than a virtual schadenfreude.

Because this is a personal blog as opposed to an expat blog, or a travel blog, or a brain tumor blog, I try to mix up the posts based on what’s relevant in my life at the moment. So whether it’s rapport or an odd pleasure at seeing me get life’s pie thrown in my face, this post has a little of both.

I brought down two important medications from the US. One I was tapering off, and the other I had hopes of tapering off. The latter I use for headache control and was taking three pills a day. I’ve only been able to get down to two pills a day without getting a nagging, worrisome headache. Needless to say, I’ve been watching the pills in the transparent orange bottle dwindle. Finally, yesterday I realized that they would soon run out.

I was emailing L at work and he was trying to assuage my panic with helpful suggestions. But you know how it works when a woman is really worried about something and a man tries to “fix” it–it only served to irritate me. I called my mom and she offered to send them to me. I balked at the suggestion because once before when she tried to send me medication in the mail, it got detained in customs. Only after a ton of paperwork, fine paying, and perhaps a shade of bribery later, I received my medication. Not fun.

I told her I was going to try to go to the pharmacy and just see if they would sell me the pills without a prescription. Now, she’s worked in a hospital or clinical setting for longer than I’ve been alive and said, “I doubt that will work. There must be international standards against something like that!”

I know I should have tried to buy more of them when I was in the US. That much is obvious now, but the way my insurance worked they only allowed me to buy one month out. I don’t think I even considered asking, “So, like, can I fill the rest of the prescription and just pay cash?”

Later, when L got home he told me that he would go with me to the pharmacy and we could try to buy them together. He told me to bring the pill bottle, my passport, and then do whatever it is I normally do to get what I want like bat my eyelashes or smile.

Pharmacies in Chile are strange in the fact that they are not as open as pharmacies in Mexico, for example, and they require prescriptions for medications I can easily buy over the counter in the US (yet, sometimes it’s the opposite).

Part of our plan was that I would play the part of the ignorant foreigner. Normally, I take offense when people assume I can’t speak Spanish. This time I didn’t. We even got the pharmacist who I’ve come to refer to as “jerkface” because he is not a nice person. L explained what I needed, acting like he was translating it all for me, and we bought the medication. Jerkface even joked about L’s membership card to a certain soccer team. And here I thought he had no personality!

The pills were expensive. That’s for sure, but there was no dallying or asking for prescriptions. It was all easy.

A friend and I used to have a saying for Chile when we studied in Concepción for when things appeared more complicated than necessary, “That would be too easy!” Like, “Why would there be toilet paper in the bathroom? That would be too easy!”

I know that the pharmacist probably didn’t care if I had a prescription or not because to him it was just business as usual, but I was both surprised and buoyed by the experience.

I even went home and finished filling out my profile on a job search website and applied to my first job here.

Wish me luck! I have a busy day planned of writing and applying for more jobs.

How to Make a Perfect Stranger Smile on Christmas

I love this blog. I love writing in it. I love interacting
with all of you. I know I haven’t been the best blogger as of late,
but it’s not because anything is going on–as a concerned relative
told me when she called earlier. Actually, it’s precisely that.
Nothing is really going on. I haven’t found a job, or had more
doctor’s appointments, heard anything about L’s visa or even
decided where I want to live (as in which hemisphere), so that’s
why I haven’t been blogging. But, I’m fine. See? All ten fingers
and toes still intact. Okay, so you can’t see, but they are totally
wiggling which is good when you are me and you may or may not have
been wielding a big kitchen knife earlier. Not in the creepy way.
In the domestic way. Surprise! Sometimes, I cook things.

Tangent. Anyway, I love this blog. I’ve made so many friends
through this blog. It’s crazy to think of how many people I have
communicated with through this portal, and how many people possibly
read me and, yet, never comment or email *tsk*tsk*…

Something weird happened earlier. I opened my email and found an email that
said “Congratulations! You’ve just received a Barnes and Noble Gift
Card from X in the amount of X”. I had just woken up from a long
nap (that was totally the cat’s fault–he laid on my stomach while
I was reading and I couldn’t possibly move him!) and I just blinked
it into focus.

Then, I got suspicious and read the email several
times, very carefully. Did things like this really happen? There
was a number to call and a link I could click on to check the real
balance. I did both. Both times, I was totally prepared to not give
out any personal, identifying information. It was a real email. It
was a real gift card.

That means that somewhere out there a perfect
stranger sent me a gift card with the message that they wished me a
“happy and healthy New Year”. I tweeted about it and @lanapuckett
suggested that I pay it forward. I like that idea. I’m now on the
lookout for the chance to make someone smile, too. So, Thank You
EC! You made my day in what @andreamw called a “random act of
Santa” :)

I hope you all have a great holiday season!

So Interviewing is like Riding a Bike, Right?

So, it’s probably safe to say that since I’m not shouting it all over social media land that my interview did not go well. I know I mentioned that I didn’t know if I wanted the job, but that’s not the point. The point is this: I wanted them to want me. A few people suggested that I should go to the interview anyway to, you know, practice and blow off steam and what all. *sigh* I left yesterday feeling more disillusioned with the entire marketing field than feeling like I had actually learned something from the experience. Yet, now after I spent the day applying to non-profits (anywhere where the amount of zeros and commas behind the dollar sign does not define success), I have realized a few things:

1. Marketing is one of the most overused and often times incorrectly used words in a job announcement. Right, so I realize that sales and advertising are involved in marketing and often times direct marketing is another way of saying sales, but they are still different things! So, when I show up expecting marketing and find out it’s a commission based sales job where I would be given a territory to compete over with my co-workers and my jaw drops slightly, don’t be surprised. It probably makes a crap job seem more prestigious to title it “marketing” rather than “crap job”.

2. I need a matchy suit. I’m not a matchy person (Is that even a word?). But, I only own two suits and the pants do not match the jackets, which I did by design. I thought it looked more fashionable and avant-garde, dare I say? However, after seeing the pin-striped suit drones waiting in the bare, monochrome office yesterday, I realized that I probably need a more matchy suit (I’ve decided it’s a word)–at least one where the two pieces are the same fabric. Or…what is proper interview etiquette on this anyway?

3. I should keep my definition of success to myself. The interview was over the moment he asked me–he only asked me three questions–how I define success. I’ve never been asked that in an interview so I paused for several seconds before saying, “Well, to me success is being happy doing what you are doing.” I saw the way his smile twitched a little bit (that’s one thing I hate about people when they lie), and he quickly said that it was a *cough* good answer *cough* like he thought something was funny and had to stifle a giggle with a cough. I was seven once too. I know how that works. I suppose next time I should say something about how like: “To me success is making lots, and lots, and lots of money. Then I’m going to drip honey all over my body, throw the money in the air, and watch it stick to my skin. I hear they have rooms for fetishes like that in Vegas.” *wink*.

Then, watch them call security… so that leads to 4. I need help on my delivery.

Probably the best part of the entire 10 minute interview wasn’t even the interview. It was the fact that I drove there and back in rush hour traffic. Oh and get this: I saw the cars! This time there were no semi-truck long blind spots that swallowed Toyotas along with, well, semi-trucks. It means that, even though I may not notice it on a daily basis, my vision is improving! I guess, if it means I had to walk into an intimidating office of marble, and large, dark furniture, get drilled awkwardly by the secretary/fake HR lady, and then pushed out the door before I could even justify why I was there (hello! experience, education…anyone?), then it was worth it.

Oh, and my disillusionment went away too. So, if you know anyone who is looking for someone who is studying an MBA, likes marketing, speaks Chilean Spanish, and blogs with embarrassing thought provoking spelling errors then by all means have them give me a call. Seriously.

New Blog

Yes, I am retiring La Gringuita Diaries. Why? Boredom perhaps? While I still haven’t mastered wordpress.com, it seems to allow greater control for the blogger than blogspot.com. Another reason, is because when I started writing La Gringuita Diaries it was supposed to be a blog that kept me in contact with my family during a short six month to a year live abroad stint in Santiago, Chile. As most of you have witnessed, those six months turned into a year, then two and I ended up outgrowing my blog.

Recently, I was looking back on some posts I wrote when I started my blog and wondered what I was thinking. I mean, was I heavily medicated when I wrote that post? Jeez.

This blog has no name yet. Partially, it’s because I want a name that is more encompassing and allows me the ability to write about more than just Chile or Latin American themes. If you think of a good name, drop me a comment or a tweet. Seriously. If you give me a good name, I’ll give you a cookie.

Also, I tried to bring over my blogroll to this new blog. Please check out your link and let me know if it works. Also, if you don’t see your name, let me know and I can add you.