Lady Who Lunches

One of the weirdest transitions in moving to another country has been suddenly finding myself with nothing but time.

Whereas the last couple of months in Baltimore I felt as though each day was crammed from 6am-11pm with work, chores, errands, goodbyes, and a half dozen on-going To-Do lists, I am catapulted into this weird parallel universe where I wake up in the morning and have absolutely nothing I have to do, and nowhere I have to be.

This is not an easy transition.

It's only been ten days, and already I am feeling the anxiety of "what to do with myself." The obvious choices - relaxing, reading, writing - seem difficult to commit to at the moment because these are my go-to "alone" activities and hobbies; the things I retreat to when I need down time. Now, with nothing but down time, it feels painful to sit down to read or write. It doesn't help that The Gentleman had to go back to work the day after we arrived and that I don't yet know many people here. 

In Baltimore, I filled every single minute of every day. Part of that was the anxiety of being in a long-distance relationship. Too much down time meant too much time to fixate on the absence of my partner, and it was much easier to over-schedule and run myself ragged than to sit around and think about all of the things I was missing. In Baltimore, I also had a job that would take as much of me as I was willing to give, side jobs that were equally amendable, and a healthy social circle. Down time was a luxury. It also meant that during my "down time," I was too exhausted to do anything but watch Netflix in bed, but that's besides the point.

The biggest mistake I could make right now would be to sink into the weird exhaustion that occurs when you have too much time on your hands. Not having anything to do can really put a damper on your productivity because it's all too easy to slip into a pattern of laziness and "I have all the time in the world," and the next thing you know it's 6pm and you're still in your pajamas watching Hulu. I am not that person - and never have been - and so dealing with all of this free time is going to require some good old-fashioned planning and coordination.

Also, in moving to a new country, I've found that it can be very easy to get overwhelmed and to start to crave the four walls of your new flat as comfort. This is a terrible idea. Not leaving the house just makes things worse, and even if the thought of trying to painfully explain to one more cab driver where you need to go - when you yourself aren't even 50% sure - you have to force yourself to get up and out. To get dressed at least.

Not that this has all been bad. I am only just now feeling the first twinges of discontent and hoping that my visa comes through quickly so that I can get back to work (unbelievably, I so crave routine and responsibility). Most days, I get up and enjoy a long leisurely workout, a long leisurely shower, and then I (gasp) cook breakfast and lunch. I fold my clothes carefully instead of tossing them into drawers, I squeegee the glass walls of the shower to prevent streaks, and I take my time doing simple tasks properly. Because I have the time. When it takes forever to find a cab or when a waiter takes overlong to get my order, I don't panic or stress. It's no problem. I have the time. This is a luxury in and of itself, especially coming from a mid-Atlantic city that prides itself with being right up there with New Yorkers in terms of militant timing and demands. 

It's both freeing and surreal to feel this consistent, pure lack of anxiety on a daily basis. The constant thrumming of energy that existed in the base of my throat and in my chest (that would really only go away when I was completely and totally exhausted, and even then would trickle into my mind and tick away while I slept) is gone for the first time in my adult life. 

Learning how to balance the good (I sleep like a baby these days) and the bad (it's 9:45am and I'm still in pajamas - not a good start) is going to be a process. Ideally, it takes about 30 days to get all of the visa paperwork said and done, and I am trying to focus on the fact that my time as a "lady who lunches" (yawn) is temporary and that I should enjoy it while I can. It's all a learning process. 

Now, I'll let all of you who are currently giving me stink eye get back to your jobs and your hectic lives while I make the bed and get dressed. BIG DAY!

Cupcakes

You know you're living in the Middle East when....

I got the brilliant idea that I wanted to make cupcakes for The Gentleman for Valentine's Day, specifically red velvet cupcakes with vanilla icing (NOT cream cheese, as he seems to have some seriously mixed feelings about cream cheese in general as a food item). 

You can buy this at Carrefour! Whatever it is...

This entailed a shopping trip to Carrefour, a rather impressive collection of household goods, where you can purchase anything from pet food to fresh produce to "Indian Gadgets" [no lie - there's a section for that] to small appliances to a Costco-like collection of wardrobe choices. You can find just about anything and everything at Carrefour, as long as you're not uber-scrupulous. And by that, I mean that while you can find really nice coffee makers and hair products, you might be stuck with Hello Kitty for your oven mitt selection. It's a gamble.

It took me approximately nine and a half hours to find everything I needed at Carrefour. This included mens bodywash, tins of cat food, a Black and Decker coffee maker, Listerine, a shower rack, air fresheners, and (of course) cupcake mix and accouterments. My cart looked like one of the ones at the end of a Wal-mart checkout line where the cashier throws everything into it that people decide they don't want at the last minute.

ONE THING YOU NEVER CONSIDERED ABOUT MOVING TO A COUNTRY OUTSIDE OF THE UNITED STATES:

1. Your education has failed you.
Here is the extent of my knowledge regarding the metric system: I know that a 5k is 3.1 miles, a 10k is 6.2, etc. (Thanks, running!) I know, vaguely, that 0 degrees Celsius is very cold and 30 degrees Celsius is very hot. The End.

Thankfully, most measuring cups and spoons handily come in both metric and "regular" measurements (Americentric statement right there), and Betty Crocker is available in the Middle East with both measurements right on the back of the box. But where the metric system confounds me also meets one of the things that terrifies me the most about living abroad: learning to operate household appliances.

Behold, our oven:

What. The what. Is that. It looks like a pictogram off of the cap of a Natty Boh bottle and if you don't figure it out, you risk ruining dinner and possibly your life. Also - temperature...in Celsius. Given a delicate art such as baking, a few clicks in the wrong direction could spell ruin here.

The Gentleman had warned me that he had to download a .pdf manual and read it cover to cover to figure out how to operate the washing machine, but he hadn't even attempted a use of the oven just yet. So I followed his lead and went online and discovered that I could input the serial number of the oven unit (found inside the front door) and get instructions - in English - on how to operate this complicated piece of machinery. I learned that the little snowflake means "defrost" (imagine that!) and the picture that looks sort of like a biohazard symbol sandwiched between floating water and sky is actually a convection oven setting. I also downloaded an app for my phone to convert metric measurements and figured out that the cupcakes needed to be baked for 15 minutes at 180C. Another good tool  for this is The Metric Kitchen, which is helpful without being judgy about Stupid Americans and their stupid non-metric measuring system.

The cupcakes turned out delightfully, thanks to the modern conveniences of cooking with one's iPhone and iPad handy for moral support and also thanks to Betty Crocker's foolproof red velvet cupcake mix, which is readily available out here. I even found vanilla icing (NOT CREAM CHEESE) and some red goop that I thought would be easy to manipulate but ended up just splooshing all over the place for a stab at "decoration."

Behold! Success!

Side note: I screwed up one of the first cupcakes trying to delicately drizzle the red goop in a pattern and got mad and ended up turning the mess into the word "poop." The next day when the domestic help came to clean the house (I can't even talk about that right now - let's save that little guilty nugget for another post), I told her she could help herself to the cupcakes and I am 99% sure she ate the one that said "poop" on it. Hopefully she doesn't know what that means, and thank God I didn't decorate it with one of my more abrasive (and recognizable) four letter words.

The Gentleman was quite pleased with the surprise. My major project done for the day, I was rewarded with a lychee martini and sushi at So Cho and then drinks at Pearls and Caviar. Your typical Thursday night out at the Souk in Abu Dhabi.

I really, really love lychee martinis.

Pearls and Caviar with a pretty stunning view of the Grand Mosque.

Upper deck of Pearls and Caviar

Coming up: how rearranging furniture will push the cats to the brink of sanity, a fishing trip in Dubai, and dealing with being a "lady who lunches" until the work visa comes through.

Expat - Days 2 and 3

In this uber-exciting account, the cats arrive and we make an epic trip to IKEA.

First of all, I keep forgetting that I've only been here for 3 days. I am trying to figure out why I'm tired all of the time, and then I remember that I'm still burned out from my last hectic month in Baltimore and now currently trying to remember my new phone number, what time it is where, and what is in my shipment (in a boat somewhere crossing the Atlantic) and what I need to buy. Also, in other interesting discoveries, no one seems to know where anything is. I have thrice - perhaps even more - now gotten into taxis and had the cab driver ask me for directions to where I am going. You're asking the wrong person, here, dude. There are like 14 highways that crisscross this area and I have no clue what goes where.

Live animals! 50 pounds of paperwork taped to the top.

Moving the cats was simultaneously the easiest and most stressful aspect of the move. Easiest because we used a fantastic service - Pet Relocation - and they took care of everything. They told me which vet to use in Baltimore (apparently, you need one certified in international travel), helped me set up appointments, made sure I had all of the right paperwork correctly filled out, looked at the cats' records and told me which vaccines they needed, and walked me through every step of the process. They even told me exactly which carriers to purchase which are approved for international travel. The stress aspect came from the upsetting knowledge that I would be putting the cats through a lot to get them to the Middle East. Fiona, aka "Small, Troubled Cat," (click here for pics) throws a royal bitchfit whenever she has to go somewhere in the car so I couldn't imagine sticking her on a plane for umpteen hours.

A couple of things I didn't know about international pet travel:

1. As of (insert historical date here), pets are not allowed inside the cabin of commercial airliners when flying internationally. Instead, they must be shipped as cargo in a special pressurized cabin dedicated solely for this purpose. As a result, there are a limited number of carriers that actually do pet transfer services - Lufthansa, British Airways, and KLM to name the 3 that I know of. The plus side is that the hubs for each of these have boarding facilities and are well-versed in pet travel.

2. A reputable pet transfer service WILL NOT SEDATE YOUR PETS. I had originally thought this was the most humane way to get animals through very long flights, but my agent gave me some literature explaining that animals are naturally predisposed to dealing with high levels of stress and that sedation will confuse their bodies and can cause them to go into cardiac arrest. This is apparently the primary reason for things going wrong in pet shipments. 

The Relocater agent worked with me for the past month explaining each step of the process - health certificates, vaccines within 30 days, final vet visit within 10 days of travel, USDA health certificate approval - there was more paperwork involved in shipping the cats than my visa has required. An agent picked up the cats from where I was staying in Baltimore and another agent brought them to our new flat in Abu Dhabi. Door to door service! Also, they signed me up for Flight Aware alerts so I knew when the cats' flights departed and arrived, and they gave me all of the tracking information for the shipment. 

I wonder if the Animal Hotel is near the Red Light District?

The cats had a 10 or so hour layover in Amsterdam where they stayed in a kennel, had their crates cleaned, and were given food and water and a litter box. The agent in Abu Dhabi called once he had cleared customs with the cats and assured me that both were alive and looked good.

I have no idea how much either cat freaked out over the 48 hours that we were on our separate travels from Baltimore to Abu Dhabi, but I will say that within an hour or so of arriving in the new flat they were eagerly eating treats and purring and acting completely normal. However much #smalltroubledcat freaks out, she bounces right back. I didn't get much sleep that night because she slept ON my neck, licking my face. 

I was so relieved to have both cats arrive healthy - although probably not happy - and they are settling in quite well in the new flat. They have a balcony to lie on and many windows to look out of, and it's not -10 degrees the way it was in Baltimore so they're not huddled around the radiators trying to keep warm. Everyone is quite happy.

New desk! (one of 3 trolleys)

On the third day, God created IKEA and we went and bought everything. I didn't ship much in the way of furniture, and The Gentleman was living previously in a furnished apartment, so we had to buy things like a coffee table, dressers, a dining table and chairs, and a desk for me. Fortunately, if you spend more than 2500dhs (about $680 - which we most definitely did) they not only do free delivery but provide a team to put your furniture together. Huzzah not having to assemble IKEA furniture! 

Also, it's important to note that IKEA hosts Curry Wednesdays and you can make reservations for two for the classy IKEA Valentine's Dinner. The Gentleman refused to acquiesce, leaving me to believe that he doesn't think I deserve reservations for Valentine's Day at IKEA. Jerk.

All of our new furniture will be delivered on Monday, which will be quite welcomed as we're currently using cardboard boxes as our coffee table and have clothes all over everywhere because there's nowhere to put them. I did buy plates, bowls, utensils, and some pots so last night we had a very civilized dinner of leftovers on actual plates instead of paper and using actual utensils instead of plastic. 

The cats are weirdly obsessed with the shower. They don't understand it, and they like to go in it after it's been used and lick the water off of their paws. Weirdos.

 Coming up - chaos as it rains in Abu Dhabi!

The Expat Life - Day One

Abu Dhabi sunrise, desert angle.

This whole "moving to another country" thing is pret-ty crazy.

After the chaos of the past couple of weeks, the cats and The Gentleman and I all got on our respective flights and headed out across the Atlantic. And across Europe. And a good chunk of the Middle East too, because "home" now is right smack in the middle of the Middle East. 

Alas, we could not all get on the same flights. I flew Lufthansa through Frankfurt, The Gentleman British Air through Heathrow, and the cats flew KLM through Amsterdam. They had a 10 hour layover during which I sincerely hope they went to see the Van Gogh museum and Anne Frank house and didn't just hang around in "coffee shops." 

The Gentleman and I got to Abu Dhabi around the same time and, Gentleman that he is, he'd already picked up all of my (excessive) luggage and loaded it onto a handy cart. And then we headed home for our usual post-travel ritual of late-night sushi delivery, duty free wine, and Hulu.

Home. What a strange concept right now. Let's talk about that in a couple of weeks. Right now, I keep having weird flashbacks that I didn't mail my rent check or that I need to stop by Target to pick up paper towels. I was a bit disappointed at the movie selection on Lufthansa and briefly wondered if they would have better picks on the return flight and then realized - dizzingly - that for the first time, there is no return flight. That was a one-way. Return to Baltimore TBD. 

Jet lag hit me particularly hard this time - I blame the lack of movies on Lufthansa and the ridiculously comfy business class recliner seats because I slept way too much on my flights - and I woke up at 4am. I sat on the couch amidst the sparse flat (my shipment won't arrive until sometime in March, and we are so devoid of furniture and household goods that I ate my oatmeal with a plastic fork this morning) and had the first moment of true realization. Everything has been such a frantic tornado of errands and chores and last goodbyes and this was - quite honestly - the first moment of quiet reflection I've had in possibly over a month. 

I realized the daunting overwhelm of moving to a new country and felt dizzy. The weather forecast popped up on my phone - snow. Definitely the forecast for Baltimore, because Abu Dhabi is ranging delightfully in the 65-75 degree range currently. I deleted the alert for Baltimore. I suspect there will be many more moments of disentangling the details of my life in Charm City, but also moments of excitement as I begin new threads here.

I managed to go back to sleep for a couple of hours, and then followed my travel-savvy friend Jessica's advice to work out in the morning and drink copious amounts of coffee. In the gym, I met a guy (Australian, I want to say) who told me that he and his wife are starting a runner's group in the complex with a lot of interest so far. The Gentleman and I went to lunch together and then went to Etisalat (the Verizon of sorts) and set up my mobile. He dropped me off at one of the malls so I could go to the pet store and pick up food for the cats, and then I was on my own because I don't yet have a car or even a local driver's license.

Taxis in the UAE are plentiful and cheap and commonly used for routine transportation. I had no trouble getting a cab home from the mall, and then no trouble getting a second cab to the nearby (but not really walkable) grocery store.

Grocery shopping was an interesting experience - there are overwhelmingly British and Asian influences here so while you have 400 different types of biscuits to choose from and amazing spices and cooking sauces, your salsa is limited to Pace Picante. (Is that the stuff made in New York City? I can't remember.) It took me over an hour to get everything on my list, and I ended up leaving without scallions because I couldn't find them and got flustered and googled "substitute scallion" to no avail and ultimately gave up. Shopping in new grocery stores is exhausting because when you don't know how items are laid out, you wind up circling up and down the aisles looking for a single item on your list and walking right by fourteen other things that you need. Circle back, rinse, repeat.

Soooo much quinoa. WHY DO WE DO THIS??

Once home, I attacked the kitchen. The movers that The Gentleman used very kindly put things away, but they literally put one or two items in every drawer and cabinet, and The Gentleman does not have very many kitchen items. So one drawer might hold four delivery menus and a spoon and a second drawer might have garbage ties while a third is designated for two plastic forks. Maddening.

On a lovely note, I discovered that The Gentleman, like me, also excessively hoards quinoa. I found four bags of it in the pantry. Two of them opened. Between the two of us, we are going to stock a world's supply and drive up prices for resale. 

Coffee table. For now.

On a lovelier note, I'm about to go and make some dinner for us. Which we'll eat off of paper plates with plastic forks and a packing box as our coffee table, but that's fine. Because we're together, and we're here in our new home, and this is truly the first day of the rest of our lives.

Gypsy

I'm currently homeless, jobless, and without a car - and it's kind of awesome. 

I moved out of my beloved house in charming Little Italy last week and am staying temporarily with (very generous) friends in Harbor East until I exit the country this Saturday. This morning, I went to the MVA with my pal Jessica and signed over the title to her and turned in the tags for my (also beloved) Mazda 3. That car was (is) so awesome, and it's going to a very good new life with Jessica who, I know, will love and care for her as much as I did. 

The Gentleman got in last night, and we managed to catch some of the Superbowl (what the hell was that) before totally passing out from sheer exhaustion.

And then, suddenly, everything that I needed to do is done. All of the balls are no longer in my court,  but in the courts of those holding my international paperwork and earthly belongings and all I have to do for the rest of the week is tie up a few loose ends, present my Capstone project for my certification, graduate with said certification, and say a lot of tearful goodbyes.

There's nothing like moving to another country to bring you closer to people you love. Every lunch, brunch, dinner, drink, walk, and workout is painted with "only x left" or "one last," and it's also a time of recollection. "Remember when we..." and "Remember that time..." All of these conversations bring to a close the life you have been living and remind you that, whatever ish went down, all of it was mostly good and fun and will be missed.

And, suddenly, after a year and a half of long distance, The Gentleman - who is no longer my boyfriend, but - I hate this word but - my fiance is here, and there's no pending goodbye, no terrible public airport moment or tearful car ride home alone after a drop off. When we leave Baltimore on Saturday, we leave together, and we head to our new home in the desert. It will take some getting used to to have his handsomeness around me all of the time. Also, I fear a coup between him and the cats. There will be battles. But we'll figure it out.

Excitingly, there are invitations for book clubs, weekends in Dubai, workout classes, brunches, and dinners already in what will be my new home. Over the last year and a half, we've cultivated the seeds of what I hope will become good friends out there and a social life that will prove as fun and fulfilling as the one I had in Baltimore, albeit in a completely different setting. 

But, for now, it's wrapping up the few loose ends that exist here, attending some lovely gatherings full of people we know and love who are coming out to wish us well on our adventure, and making sure that the cats feel loved and appreciated in the midst of the craziness. 

And it's kind of nice to be a gypsy. But only for a week. I'll be ready to go home by the end of it.

Empty Room

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another" -Anatole France

There is just something about an empty room. It's the same room - my room, the same four walls I've lived in for the last few years. The same view from the windows, the same light coming in at exactly the same angle as it has around 4pm on a winter's day. Devoid of the things that make a room a bedroom, however; a bed, a lamp, a shelf of books; it's just a room. Where someone new will see possibilities, I see what was.

I don't think I have ever made such a drastic transition in my entire life, and I don't think I have ever been so ready to do so. In my time here in Baltimore, I've done everything I wanted to do, I've lived every life I wanted to live here, and I'm ready to move on. I'm ready for a new climate, a new culture, a new favorite cafe to work in, a new job, a new (permanent) roommate who I'm pretty psyched to live with, and the next stage of my life.

"We must die to one life before we can enter another." So many goodbyes in the past week, and many more to come in my last 8 days here in the States. These changes have been so very longed for, but they do have their melancholy. And there will be slips and scrapes and bad navigation and tearful conversations back home because the UAE doesn't have the right shampoo for girls with fine blonde hair and transition, but I welcome it. 

While I hope to one day feel more settled than I have, I hope to never be complacent. New challenges, new adventures, new paths while still working hard to maintain the love and relationships and lessons learned from prior lives. Because you can - and should - never fully shed yourself of your past lives. Rather, they should inform and complement the stages to come.

I leave one empty room behind with most of my earthly possessions packed into a shipping crate that will begin it's terrifically slow plod across the Atlantic next week (and take 6 weeks to reach me in the Middle East), but there is another empty room waiting for me. A room where I'll put a bed, a lamp, a shelf of books, and make it into a bedroom. An office. A living room. A really fabulous balcony. One life is being tied up in neat little bows, but another is only just forming. 

And leaving behind a part of myself is just fine by me - because that means there is always something to come back to to visit.

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!