I always feel like somebody's watching me
Well, there's no sense in hiding, I suppose.
Welcome, Palauan expat community, to stalk my sparsely populated blog!
[For the unititiated back home, the blog is a common source of derision here on island and often mocked and ridiculed. Right now, Palau is embroiled in a great blog witchhunt, wherein internet sleuths have been smoking out bloggers from Malakal to North Beach. Recently discovered blogs have been accused of being poorly written, overwritten, gossipy or just plain boring. I like to think that mine is all of those things.
Initially, I hid my blog in dark corners and shadows and have successfully flown under the radar for well on 19 months or so. Sadly, my anonymity has come to an end. That I lasted this long is only a testament to my mad internet skillz, yo.]
This began as a place to document my giant move overseas and to provide friends and family with little slices of Palau to get an idea of what it's like to live here. Then my stepdad died, then my uncle died, then my dad died and, well, it kind of dropped off. Understandably.
As my mother can attest (she nags me often about this), the entries are few and far between. I'm pretty sure what is here is fairly uncontroversial and pretty boring to someone who (a) lives here and (b) isn't particularly interested in my emo writings on death. I doubt there are any direct references to specific people in the expat community, if that's what you're here for. Although Tobal will be happy to know that he is, in fact, the individual indirectly mentioned as the one who cooked our feast in the infamous crab entry. And I think you'll all recognize "Edward."
I thought about taking the whole thing down once it was brought to my attention that it's become water cooler fare, but I think that, if I did, my mother would reach through the computer and backhand me, she enjoys it so. (Reading my internet ramblings, not the backhanding. Though I suspect she gets some kick out of the backhanding, too.)
Mothers. Whaddya gonna do?
So, again, welcome. Feel free to poke around and poke fun.
For the rest of you back home, sadly there is not much new to report that can be posted on the internet anyway. Save to say that I've been in a four week trial that threatens to change my mind forever about this whole litigation business. Either that, or I'm just tired and melodramatic. Shocker!
I think my melodrama is not helped in the least by the fact that there has been a Diet Coke shortage on island for over a month now. Oh yeah, you heard that right. Diet. Coke. Shortage. There's none in the grocery store, none in the convenience stores, none in the restaurants. It is so Not Good.
Tiny fissures are forming on my insides and I'm hanging onto sanity with a pair of shoelaces and some chewed gum. I tried to hoard some Diet Coke once I saw the writing on the wall but, like the poor sap who went to bed right after Carson during Watts, I was too late to the party to get a free tv.
Interestingly, there are still some limited sources of Diet Coke on island such that I can get my hands on about one every other day. For someone with a six pack a day habit, this is understandably troubling. Just imagine my poor coworkers who must face me early in the morning, unassisted by caffeine. It's dark, y'all. Blood has been shed.
What's even more interesting is that the limited sources of Diet Coke on island are all loosely connected to one another and it is beginning to appear as though there is an underground Diet Coke trade that favors certain members of certain communities. I was about to go all Encyclopedia Brown on them to reveal the hidden Diet Coke DaVinci Code to the rest of the island, but I was too tired from lack of caffeine.
Pray for me during this dark time, the Great Diet Coke Shortage Of Aught Seven. We hear word of new ships coming to us, but no confirmation and each day that passes we grow more and more hopeless. Until this is over, I have to survive by making due with *gasp* Diet Pepsi. Oh, the horror. The horrrrooooorrrrr.
Welcome, Palauan expat community, to stalk my sparsely populated blog!
[For the unititiated back home, the blog is a common source of derision here on island and often mocked and ridiculed. Right now, Palau is embroiled in a great blog witchhunt, wherein internet sleuths have been smoking out bloggers from Malakal to North Beach. Recently discovered blogs have been accused of being poorly written, overwritten, gossipy or just plain boring. I like to think that mine is all of those things.
Initially, I hid my blog in dark corners and shadows and have successfully flown under the radar for well on 19 months or so. Sadly, my anonymity has come to an end. That I lasted this long is only a testament to my mad internet skillz, yo.]
This began as a place to document my giant move overseas and to provide friends and family with little slices of Palau to get an idea of what it's like to live here. Then my stepdad died, then my uncle died, then my dad died and, well, it kind of dropped off. Understandably.
As my mother can attest (she nags me often about this), the entries are few and far between. I'm pretty sure what is here is fairly uncontroversial and pretty boring to someone who (a) lives here and (b) isn't particularly interested in my emo writings on death. I doubt there are any direct references to specific people in the expat community, if that's what you're here for. Although Tobal will be happy to know that he is, in fact, the individual indirectly mentioned as the one who cooked our feast in the infamous crab entry. And I think you'll all recognize "Edward."
I thought about taking the whole thing down once it was brought to my attention that it's become water cooler fare, but I think that, if I did, my mother would reach through the computer and backhand me, she enjoys it so. (Reading my internet ramblings, not the backhanding. Though I suspect she gets some kick out of the backhanding, too.)
Mothers. Whaddya gonna do?
So, again, welcome. Feel free to poke around and poke fun.
For the rest of you back home, sadly there is not much new to report that can be posted on the internet anyway. Save to say that I've been in a four week trial that threatens to change my mind forever about this whole litigation business. Either that, or I'm just tired and melodramatic. Shocker!
I think my melodrama is not helped in the least by the fact that there has been a Diet Coke shortage on island for over a month now. Oh yeah, you heard that right. Diet. Coke. Shortage. There's none in the grocery store, none in the convenience stores, none in the restaurants. It is so Not Good.
Tiny fissures are forming on my insides and I'm hanging onto sanity with a pair of shoelaces and some chewed gum. I tried to hoard some Diet Coke once I saw the writing on the wall but, like the poor sap who went to bed right after Carson during Watts, I was too late to the party to get a free tv.
Interestingly, there are still some limited sources of Diet Coke on island such that I can get my hands on about one every other day. For someone with a six pack a day habit, this is understandably troubling. Just imagine my poor coworkers who must face me early in the morning, unassisted by caffeine. It's dark, y'all. Blood has been shed.
What's even more interesting is that the limited sources of Diet Coke on island are all loosely connected to one another and it is beginning to appear as though there is an underground Diet Coke trade that favors certain members of certain communities. I was about to go all Encyclopedia Brown on them to reveal the hidden Diet Coke DaVinci Code to the rest of the island, but I was too tired from lack of caffeine.
Pray for me during this dark time, the Great Diet Coke Shortage Of Aught Seven. We hear word of new ships coming to us, but no confirmation and each day that passes we grow more and more hopeless. Until this is over, I have to survive by making due with *gasp* Diet Pepsi. Oh, the horror. The horrrrooooorrrrr.
posted by E. at
3:13 AM
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