The Things You Never Considered...And Some You Probably Did

At midnight on New Years 2014, The Gentleman told me that I make him very happy, and then got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I said a lot of things then, like "Are you seriously doing this right now?" and "Is this happening?" and "Oh my God" and "Is this for real?" and then at some point I think I said yes, because we were hugging and there was this ridiculously awesome ring on my finger and everyone was clapping and - strangely - Iconapop's "I Love It" was playing and we got engaged. There's a video on Facebook. It's mostly of me looking shocked and The Gentleman looking handsome as always.


And then there was champagne. And tequila, but mostly champagne. I think I went to bed somewhere around 4am after making a lot of really expensive, really long-distance phone calls from the Middle East to friends and family in the States. The Gentleman fell asleep on the couch somewhere around 3am when I started Snapchatting pictures of my ring.


It was absolutely perfect. The Gentleman chose an evening where I had on a nice dress and had gotten my hair done and when I was (actually) completely not expecting it.


So now, I am packing up my life and about to end 7 years in Baltimore to move to the Middle East to be with my husband-to-be after a year and a half of long-distance. I have 25 days left in this country before expatriating and a lot of shit to do. Including wrapping up the job where I've been for the last three and a half years, filling out endless forms for visa paperwork, and interviewing for new jobs overseas. And we're engaged! And we're moving into a new flat!


When it rains...


SOME THINGS YOU PROBABLY NEVER CONSIDERED ABOUT MOVING OVERSEAS:


1. If you are taking your cats with you (which I, OF COURSE, am) this is going to be an incredibly expensive and traumatic endeavor for all parties involved. The cats will hate you because they will have to get a million shots and international microchips and have to make multiple trips to the vet. You will hate the vet because they failed to sign all of the requisite paperwork in WET, BLUE INK. (That's literally what it says - WET, BLUE INK) and you will have to make subsequent trips to get the paperwork signed appropriately. Also, the carriers that you will have to buy to transport said animals will be $50 apiece and the cats will shun them.


2. You are a ridiculous hoarder. I don't care how non-hoardy you think you are: move internationally and weep at what a disgusting person you are. WHY DID YOU KEEP _____________ (insert ridiculous memento here)?! You will throw away bags upon bags upon bags of earthly possessions that you now look at with new eyes and define as "trash." The sheer amount of stuff that you own will begin to haunt your sleep and often leave you lying wide awake at 3 in the morning, full of self-hatred and anxiety. You will need a friend to come over, drink wine with you, and exhibit tough love to force you to throw things out. Unless your friend is Bookclubjess in which case she will waiver and say unhelpful things like, "But what if you have to go to a costume party? Won't you need that dress?"


3. If you get engaged and then promptly move overseas less than a month later, you will have approximately 4 hours to enjoy your engagement bliss. I am hoping that I can pick up where I left off at 4am on January 1, 2014 once I am actually on the plane heading to my new home in the Middle East. I did rally enough to create a Pinterest board, which I'm told is the first step in wedding planning. Cross that one off the list.


4. Your passport photo is going to be seen by a bajillion people a bajillion times. Don't like the photo? Get over that shit right now. It's going to be front and center in your life for awhile.


5. Not many people know what Abu Dhabi is. It's the capital city in the country of the United Arab Emirates. Dubai is another major city in that country. It is a beautiful, welcoming country with electricity and high speed internet and running water that you can drink RIGHT FROM THE TAP and no, you will not have to wear traditional Muslim attire if you are not, in fact, a Muslim. They do not allow camels on major thoroughfares and - as a matter of fact - I've been there three times in the last year and I have yet to see a camel anywhere. I have, however, seen gold-vending ATMs and the world's largest Persian rug.


In all seriousness, despite the fact that I cry into my wine glass over what a hoarder I am and hope that someday the cats will forgive me for what I'm about to put them through, I can't help but feel like I somehow won the lottery here. I get to marry The Gentleman and move to a foreign country and have adventures. And hopefully write a book in the process. Probably about cats and hoarding.

Expat-To-Be

Please note: this attire is only required for mosque visits.
This is not everyday normal attire, which is more like designer jeans and stilletos yoga pants and flip flops.

مغامرة adventure

So, I'm moving to the Middle East. In February.

During a year and a half of long distance, The Gentleman and I have been plotting and planning and scheming and this is finally coming into fruition. I shall be uprooting my life here in Baltimore and moving, cats and all, to Abu Dhabi.

I'm pretty psyched.

This has meant a lot of planning and preparation, with much more to go, and a lot of soul searching. Truth be told, I have always wanted to live in another country. I didn't exactly picture the United Arab Emirates as that country, but hey- a foreign country is a foreign country, and it has gold ATMs and 75 degree weather in January to boot. Could be worse.

The underpinnings of this move are rooted in love, however, and not wanderlust. After three years together (a year and a half of them in an EXTREMELY LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP), The Gentleman and I have ascertained that we cannot live without the other any longer, and that we should be physically together as soon as possible so that we can commence with antics such as the time he told me that Paranormal Activity was a documentary and I cried for two days. That happened.

Love is so awesome.

(On a related note - my dad used to get a kick out of my firm belief that the Blair Witch Project was real. IT HAD A WEBSITE which, in 1998 or whatever, was a BIG DEAL and the stamp of authenticity. He was also convinced that Jodi Foster is a lesbian. I didn't fight him too much on that one.)

The truth is, over the last year and a half while The Gentleman sussed out life the Middle East, we have both been living a sort of half life. Every single day has an element of "having to be gotten through" as a day closer to when we could be together. This element of not living in the moment takes a toll, and a hefty one. The high highs of vacations together and the low lows of the long stretches (4 months at the max) of being apart seem so surreal now that we are down to less than 90 days before beginning the next step of our lives together. Thinking back, I see how I crammed a thousand hours of activities into every single day with the express purpose of making time pass as fast as possible. Talk about burn out.

Not that it was terrible. Over the past year and a half, I met and re-met some amazing friends, went on some pretty epic vacations, and picked up some new hobbies like quilt-making and air yoga and spinning. That was all pretty fun.

Charm City has been very good to me over the past seven years, and I will be sad to leave it. But also excited for life in a different country for a couple of years and learning/embracing the expat lifestyle. And, you know, being with The Gentleman. That will be ok too, I guess.

Watch this space for upcoming adventures as I navigate things like:
1. Navigating the expat paperwork situation
2. Moving 2 cats overseas (one who is small and extremely troubled to begin with)
3. Do they have blonde bobby pins in the Middle East?
4. Saying goodbye for now to so many family and friends that my heart is going to explode and burst out of my eyes. In the form of tears. Which I'll say are allergies.

Onward! 

TOMORROW!!

Hooray! 114 days down, one to go! The Gentleman will be here tomorrow. The joy of a long-distance relationship - the awesome airport reunion, which is the antithesis of the horrible airport goodbye.

I think this calls for Barry Manilow.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lc4TnopiuzQ

ONLINE COUNTDOWN

The Longest. Like, Ever.

The Gentleman and I are in the midst of the longest we have ever been apart.

This fun marathon of long-distance comes courtesy the fact that we got really, really spoiled last spring/early summer, where - despite the fact that we live 7,500 miles apart - we got to see each other in March, April, May, AND June. It was a LOT of Transatlantic flights. And time changes. And foreign currency.

Currently, we are on Day 79 of an epic 115 days apart. Reunion commences next month at Dulles Airport, and from thence we shall do some fun things in Baltimore and then head to the West Coast.

There are a million moments when you think, "Wow, long distance really, really sucks." It happens when you're stuck in traffic, when you're surrounded by couples, when you're eating a really, really amazing steak and think, "He would so love a bite of this thing." It happens with the good - because you don't get to share it; and it happens with the bad - because you're dealing with shit alone.

The only time long distance doesn't totally and completely suck is the moment you're reunited. And then it's weird for about thirty minutes, like - oh, this person is holding my hand...oh, this person is - WAIT, OH MY GOD, IT'S YOU!! And then it's normal again and you're like, "What 115 days apart? That was nothing!"

I basically can't wait to get to that point.

ff
COUNTDOWN CLOCK WIDGETS

Dulles is going to be so embarrassed. 

It Never Gets Easier

You do get used to the 8 hour time difference, to flight delays, to lost luggage, to foreign currency clinking around in all of your bags, to attending events solo, and to texting "wish you were here" a thousand times but thinking it a million more. You may not like it, but you grow accustomed to it, and you know what to expect, and how to deal with it.

But the goodbye, no matter where it takes place - on a curb-side drop off under the DEPARTURES sign, or a ticket counter, or on your front stoop with an airport shuttle waiting - that never gets any easier. In fact, it might even be the one thing that gets harder.

We've been long-distance for almost a year (two weeks shy, in fact) and have had to do this good-bye 7 times. And it's the worst. Sometimes I almost think a hasty tuck-and-roll out of the car would be better, or a high-five, or a "good game" butt slap. I don't know. 

You get used to a lot of things, and accept a lot of things as "normal" when you're in an Extreme Long Distance relationship, but the good-bye is not one of those things. 

I'd rather stick with hello.

"Are you guys even long-distance anymore?"

So says Hot Curry, during our Skype session with her husband Lee (who sent me THE BEST birthday gift, beeteedubs - more on that later). It was in reference to the fact that The Gentleman is currently in town this week, and we are burning through more of our precious PTO to take a couple of days and head 'downy ohhh-shun' like good little Baltimoreans. Pick crabs, drink beer, ride waves and carnival rides of questionable stability and just generally hoot 'n holler and be down home for a long weekend. This is a change from our usual hooting and hollering and classless behavior that usually takes place in much more exotic locations. This time we'll probably even blend in.

But, yes, the last I checked, the United Arab Emirates hadn't crept any closer on the map to Baltimore City, so we are indeed still in an Extreme Long Distance Relationship, albeit one where we've gotten lucky enough to see one another every month for the past four months. Through internet finds on cheap flights and the help of a friend who works in the airline industry, we are racking up trans-Atlantic miles on the cheap and getting to spend good, quality time together.

After this trip, unfortunately, we will probably go back to that good old fashioned "seeing each other every 3-4 months" routine, which sucks, but is much cheaper and allows us both time to rack up more PTO from work. Le sigh.

But, for now, I'm packing sunscreen and plenty of books to go lie in the sun with all the other lobsterish tourists, The Gentleman by my side. We are lucky, lucky, lucky and I'm trying to enjoy every moment before he has to fly back to the Land of Sand (which, by the by, is NOT where you want to be June-July-August - average temps of 100 and up with like 500% humidity which makes Maryland feel so pleasantly mild). 

Back State-side

So, I'm two days back in the States from almost two weeks in the United Arab Emirates. Great trip - there was paddle boarding, indoor snow skiing in a mall, outdoor jet skiing on the Gulf, a spin class with a lovely New Zealand instructor, sushi, hummus, a pub quiz night, and a weekend in Dubai with friends that culminated in....wait for it....reverent hush.... Florence + the Machine. Live, at Sandance at the Atlantis.

What's the Atlantis? 

This. It's this. It's ridiculous and opulent and amazing and they had a very large concert called Sandance last weekend, and I WENT TO IT. AND IT WAS AWESOME.

But, le sigh, after a lovely two weeks with my boyfriend, I boarded a 14-hour flight direct from Abu Dhabi to Dulles (shared with a lovely man called Sayed from Pakistan and two very non-English-speaking Indian ladies), and I am now back in Baltimore and laid up with a sinus infection.

I have loads of photos to share, as well as fun stories, tons of food porn, and recommendations if you find yourself headed very far Easterly to the Persian Gulf coast. But, for now, it's tea with honey, soup, and finishing up House of Cards on Netflix. 

Jet Lag-less

Somehow; by the grace of Tylenol PM, sugar-free Red Bull, and possibly some unicorn horn powder sprinkled by a magical elf upon my lucky, lucky head; I did not have ANY jet lag on this trip.

Usually, traveling 20+ hours with a frantic layover in Heathrow (which I swear haunts me in my nightmares - I'm running through endless hallways trying to find gates that don't exist in terminals that you can only get to by taking two commuter flights and a U-boat) through eight time zones leaves me fractured shell of a human being. I spend the first few days feeling jelly-legged and feverish, with the overwhelming urge to fall asleep only to be met with a racing heart and wide-dry-eyes the moment my head hits the pillow.

But thankfully, and I cannot tell you how happy this makes me, Etihad airways now has a direct flight from DC to Abu Dhabi. A shuttle picked me up at my doorstep in Baltimore, and a mere 20 hours later The Gentleman picked me up at the airport in Abu Dhabi where I arrived fresh as a daisy after a 13-hour flight where I not only watched that Seth Rogan-Barbara Streisand film but also got a few hours of work done, had a 3-hour nap, and decided that I don't like 'Mike and Molly' after three episodes of trying to be open-minded.

Here's the key, I think- I only slept for 3 hours, and then woke up and "started my day" with coffee. I drank so much water on the flight that the crew member handed me the giant bottle of water and told me I could keep it so he didn't have to keep refilling my cup. I had two glasses of wine with "dinner" and a beer with "lunch". I followed every rule of what you are supposed to do to avoid jet lag, and somehow it worked.

I stayed up until midnight the night I arrived, and popped out of bed at 730 the next morning. We spent the day on the beach with friends, which was helpful because being outside in natural sunlight is one of the best ways to get your body acclimated to a new time zone. I went to sleep around midnight again and was up at 8 the next morning. A perfect 8 hours.

Now, I'd be lying if I said I didn't rely on chemicals to a certain extent. I took Tylenol PM the first four days of my trip, but mostly because I suffer from the kind of jet lag where I have no trouble falling asleep, but I then wake up at 3am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed only to crash again at 9am and be down until early afternoon. Which is a terrible way to spend your vacation. The Tylenol PM works to KEEP me asleep,and doesn't give me that nasty, groggy sleeping pill hangover.

And, of course, excessive amounts of tea, coffee, and sugar-free Red Bull throughout the day. But that's nothing new.

I am trying to memorize this perfect alignment of the zodiac and equatorial lines and physics and bottles of water and sleeping patterns prior to my trip because jet lag has straight up ruined plans for us in the past. I hope this wasn't a one-off and that the formula can be repeated. Jet lag makes me sympathetic to torture victims who have suffered sleep depravation, and it basically turns me into the world's worst human being.

Packing Up Again

These are the little guys I got us when my boyfriend moved overseas. We always bring them with us when traveling.  There will be a whole post of their adventures at some point. This is them posing in The Gentleman's living room window. He has a terrible view. 

What a crazy year.

I have to segue from my posts about Mexico to say that I'm currently in the middle of my about-to-travel routine. I'm headed back out to the Middle East on Thursday, which means that for the fifth time in less than a year I'm leaving the country. At this point, I don't even put my suitcase away anymore - it now has a home on the floor of my room. My passport remains in my carry-on, along with eye drops, ear plugs, and an eye mask. I'm thinking ahead eight time zones and remembering to call my credit cards to tell them I'll be overseas and making sure that my cats are taken care of. (My roommate is awesome and not only feeds and waters the cats while I'm gone, she loves on them with brushings, treats, and trips to sit outside on the balcony. I think they are starting to like her better than me.)

I was talking to one of my besties, Stupid, this morning, and she mentioned that while, at first, The Gentleman's announcement that he was being sent overseas for work was a pretty difficult pill to swallow, it's turned into a year of incredible travel opportunity. And she's right. While I would much rather have The Gentleman by  my side (because he's handsome and funny and cooks really good pad thai), our joint love of travel and adventure has propelled us into some pretty awesome experiences. Our separation is temporary, and while being in an Xtreme Long Distance Relationship has been the hardest thing I have ever. Done. Hands. Down, it's also been the best. 

Travel is one of my most favorite things, and I have had opportunities to do things that I probably never would have had if it weren't for our circumstances. What we are doing is incredibly difficult and a lot of hard work, but we are young and we both have decent amounts of PTO from our jobs and the means to travel, and so he gave me the best parting gift he possibly could by saying "Where do you want to go next?"

I am extraordinarily lucky to have had these experiences, and luckier still to have them with my most favorite person. And so, yes, I prepare for another 15-hour flight and Xtreme Jet Lag (I am SO BAD at jet lag...I mean, no one is particularly GOOD at it, but I am REALLY REALLY TERRIBLE no matter how often I experience it), but I'm also preparing for more adventures with someone I love a whole lot. 

I'm hoping to post the remainder of my Mexico photos before I leave, but seeing as how I am up to my eyeballs in laundry and still have two full work days before my 10pm flight, it may just have to wait until I get back. And there will be more adventures to tell then, too.

Onward!

Mexico - SPRING BREAK

Delightful.

I feel slightly compelled to defend our choice of going to Cancun in late March by saying that:
a) It was cheaper than our first choice (Key West)
b) As an expat, The Gentleman cannot be in the United States for more than 30 days within a calendar year. Coming home for two weeks meant that leaving the country for 6 days of those two weeks buys him a little more time on another visit.
c) After our last few vacations, I put my (admittedly spoiled and bourgeois-y) foot down and declared that I wanted to lie on a beach and read chick lit and have drinks brought to me. I do love history and museums, but I also love "Doing Nothing." And by "Doing Nothing," I mean all of the aforementioned activities. 

We picked Cancun based on the sole fact that the flights weren't outrageously expensive, and we could find something all-inclusive. But herein lay a conundrum: Cancun? In March? The Gentleman and I are both well above the requisite Spring Break Age Limit of 23 (argue all you want - that EXISTS), and I didn't want any wet T-shirt contests or drunken bro's to disturb my daily regimen of British chick lit and Bloody Marys beachside. After some thorough research (any hotel that bragged about ENDLESS, BOTTOMLESS, or TOPLESS was immediately rejected), we discovered that the resort where we'd stayed in the Dominican for a wedding last May has a sister resort in Cancun. Our vacation had been incredibly lovely, and nothing like the all-inclusive nightmares you've heard. The food was delicious, the service impeccable, the rooms spotless, the beaches pristine. 

And so, we arrived at 8pm on March 26 at Dreams Cancun and discovered that we had certainly picked the right resort for charm, beauty, and no SPRING BREAKKKKK-eyness going on.

Unfortunately, we went a bit too far in the other direction....

The Gentleman and I were slated to stay in a fully-booked resort for six days, and apparently we had forgotten to bring children under ten. Because EVERYONE ELSE HAD THEM. IN SPADES.

Far away from fountains of tequila shots or sexy contests involving whipped cream and bananas, we found ourselves at Cancun's Familiest Friendliest Resort. Not once could I get into the hot tub - because it was completely full of small children. A small children stew, if you will. The first night we went to the resort's on-site night club, we were treated to a lip-synced sing-along rendition of Grease, complete with a blonde-wigged Sandy whose dark Mexican curls kept springing out from under. As I lay on the beach reading child-inappropriate literature and drinking fully-liquored Bloody Marys, I was kicked with sand as children ran by, and at one point nearly clocked in the head with a stray horseshoe from a nearby game.

BUT - and I will fully admit this - it's pretty hard to complain about much of anything when you're at a beautiful beach resort with unlimited food and drinks and the person you love. We had a truly fantastic time. And if we find ourselves someday having seventeen children under the age of ten, we know just where we'll go for vacation.

And, to be fair, any resort that claims to be "adults only" is, well....slightly dodgy. Maybe next time we just won't go on vacation the week of Easter. That's all I can think of, because everyone in Cancun kept talking about how it was the "slow time of spring," and that the "spring break rush" was over. Not at Dreams Cancun. That place was hopping with virgin pina coladas and limbo competitions on the beach. Which is completely unfair, because not only are those kids all hopped up on sugar (and no liquor), but they are VERY SHORT and can OBVIOUSLY LIMBO MUCH BETTER BECAUSE OF THE SHORTNESS.

Not that I'm mad about that or anything.

Anyhoodle. It was a lovely vacation. I read three books and drank a lot of cervesas.

Oh, and our room? It overlooked a dolphin pen.

A DOLPHIN PEN.

Up early on the first morning to enjoy my coffee...

....with the dolphins hanging out below. DOLPHINS.

The dolphins do shows throughout the day. More on thiss in a later post, wherein I kiss one of said dolphins. (See side panel of blog for evidence.)

Day One was overcast and slightly chilly.

The Gentleman made an attempt to stick a foot in the water, but alas - the Caribbean on this particular day was a LOT colder than it looks....

We stuck it out, lying determined by the beach, until it started to rain on us. Cold and clouds we could handle...rain we could not.

So we went for a walk. This was a giant lamp in the hotel lobby. I took about 17,467 pictures of it. In fact, The Gentleman became annoyed because everytime we walked past it, I wanted to get my camera out and take another picture. "IT'S DIFFERENT LIGHT RIGHT NOW." 

A walk just out of our resort led us to where all the kids hang out (although not today, apparently....)

Nothing. Makes. Sense.

The weather was not lovely on the first day.

But the SECOND day.....  !!

Dolphins having their breakfast.

View of neighboring resort from our balcony.

I  MEAN, WE ARE OVERLOOKING A DOLPHIN POOL. HOW COOL IS THAT?!

Much like the Dominican, the resort is absolutely beautiful and brings the outdoors in. Light and airy with plants and birds everywhere.

The dolphin pool sucks salt water in from the Caribbean, and it drains slightly when the tide goes out.

One of the restaurants had an albino catfish. He was not on the menu.

The same gray sea - a day later.

I don't know what compels me to take pictures like this. I just need to.

Nighttime.

The third day we were there, I decided to try out the resort's yoga class. They said to be at the gazebo at 9am. This is the gazebo. Where they do yoga. Outside.

DOES IT GET ANY BETTER?! (Obligatory foot pic)

This is the view from the gazebo. Where they do yoga. Outside.

Bird!

 Stay tuned for: Adventures in Coco Bongo, the Food (of course), and my cuddle episode with a dolphin.

On a Happier Note....

 

On a (much better) note, my girl over at Charm(ing) City Style put together a sexy little blog post just for me! Since she is ridiculously fashionable and super smart, I demanded that she help me pack for the Middle East.

Thanks, CCS! You are the best (dressed).