Weekly Update

Hey again.  As it turns out, I'm fairly shitty at blogging.  I'm going to try and do better in the coming weeks.  The lack of comments, like Obama's Nobel, is a call to action.

SFW (Safe for Work) Items:
HEALTH
    I got extremely sick last Sunday.  My temperature rose to 102.7, my body ached, I oscillated between being covered in sweat and shivering like a crackho', and at one point my fingertips went without blood for an extended period of time (they fell asleep and I couldn't wake them up).  I took a ridiculous amount of over-the-counter medication, slept for 5/6ths of the day, and drank water like it was my job.  I'm still feeling kinda shitty, but at least I don't feel like dying.
    Since I don't have a house doctor yet, Pep set up an appointment for me to see his.  Get this: in Holland, the fee for an office visit is 24.80 Euros.  (That's not a copay.)  Once I get my insurance card, that amount would be completely refunded.  Effing commies.

WEATHER
    Mother Nature must hate Fall (or perhaps is trying to switch things up for Father Time in the celestial bedroom...), because it feels like we went from Summer to Winter.  It's quite windy and dreary on my way to work, I have to wear all of my coats to dinner, and the cycle home is usually accompanied by my acapella whimpers and sniffles.   I am ready to invest in a big overcoat and mittens...as soon as my bank account is set up.  (Still waiting on that...)

NSFW ITEMS
MONEY
   I still don't have my passport number, so I can't apply for my bank account.  Therefore...I'm getting by receiving cash advances from the finance department.  I have some good-old-dollars...but with the exchange rate being the worst in months, that feels like throwing my money away.  I've never lived like this.  I'm a conspicuous consumer.  This system of personal finances has made me re-realize and appreciate how lucky I have been thus far: feeling poor is tough.


LOVE LIFE
    Meeting fellas is easy.  Anything and everything else...isn't.  Sure, there are plenty of drunken chuckle f***ers after each show, waiting (swaying) for their chance to dip their toe in my waters (...I'm not into foot play), but that sort of tryst doesn't interest me.  Maybe growing up with an overly-protective older brother who would call me a slut for anything from wearing mascara, saying "Justin Timberlake is hot," or discovering that I was taking the pill has influenced my view of proper female decorum.  

Anyhoo...I ain't no hollaback girl.

That being said, I would like to make a couple apologies for my actions this past week.  

- To Dimitri, the financial planner from London (working out of Moscow currently), I apologize for hiding in the theater instead of actually getting my coat.  But let's be fair: you have a girlfriend and I saved you from yourself.  Thanks for the insider information, btw.  I'll call Schwab tomorrow morning.

-  To Marshall, the accountant from Sydney (hot damn, you're gorgeous, you Australian vampire), I apologize for making out with you on a bridge and probably giving you Dutch flu last Sunday after the piano bar.  PS - It never would have worked between us.  Your hair is better than mine...what could I have possibly brought to the table?


Time for a show.  COMMENT, Motha Truckas!  I LOVE YOUUUUUUU.

xxx, Jessica

PS  - SOOOO glad Lolu's back from three weeks in the states.  The cast is complete!  Huzzah!