Hippies and Tings

 Somehow, I earned myself a nickname with the locals in our neighborhood. I’m not 100% on what they actually yelled (they speak English, but sometimes that Grenadian accent is a whole other language, son) but I’m pretty sure it was either “hippie” or “yippie”—variation of yuppie? I’m praying it’s hippie, and also hoping it’s because of my clothes (my sister calls my style "eclectic") and not because I never brush my hair. There’s this street corner right by our house with a huge tree, and there are ALWAYS at least 3 local men sitting under the tree. I don’t really understand what they do all day, but who am I to judge when I watch an average of 3 hours of Netflix per day? Today, I was driving my scooter (more about this later) back from my friend Kayla’s house and praising God that the rabid dog that protects the street didn’t chase me again. When all of a sudden, the “tree men”, (this has a double meaning because they were under the tree and also, Grenadians don’t pronounce their h’s when in conjunction with a t, so three sounds like tree, through sounds like true…the pun isn’t as good when you have to explain it) get REALLY excited to see me and start yelling “HIPPIE! HIPPIE! GOOD EVENING!” and throwing their heads back laughing and waving. I know I’m not supposed to support catcalling and it’s sexist but I just couldn’t help but smile. Their enthusiasm was contagious. And why can’t Billy greet me that way every day? 

Here’s proof of the missing H’s.

Yes, you read me correctly earlier, we bought a scooter! It’s not nearly as cool as the red rocket we drove this summer or my personal favorite—the black mamba who owned the summer of 2010. But, it is the white panther of Grenada. AKA: A used, rattly, overpriced scooter. Scootering is no joke around these parts—it’s more like mastering the slaloms in order to avoid the potholes. But it really has been such a lifesaver. We have been hitching rides and taking buses and burdening all our friends who have cars. It’s so nice to be an adult and be able to go where you want when you want to go. Yes mom, I wear a helmet. And it has blue flames—nothing but the most stylish accessories for this trophy wife.

In other news…PINTEREST! I know I’m the last female on earth to start a Pinterest account. I have this aversion to popular things. I boycott them forever and then I realize how awesome they are so I jump on board about 3 years too late. Kind of like when Harry Potter came out in 2^nd grade, but it was too trendy and those kids were nerds, so I didn’t read it until 4^th grade and obviously now I’m obsessed for life.  My fantasy football team is Team Gryffindor. And I did the same exact thing with Twilight. But, back to Pinterest. I have become a cook out here because a girl and her aspiring doctor have gotta eat. After every meal, Billy says, “Who are you and what have you done to my wife?” Even his insults make me weak in the knees.

I’ve made scrumptious meals and not-so-scrumptious meals all thanks to the “recipes with little ingredients” search. As it turns out, nothing is healthy when there aren’t many ingredients. And the budget dinner pages are crap because they act like feta cheese and chicken are so cheap, but they’re obviously shopping at Walmart. Show offs. On a more positive note, I never need to buy salt here! All I have to do is shake my head/pits over the meal I’m cooking because cooking is an Olympic sport around here and makes you sweat in places you didn’t know had sweat glands. There’s not any AC in my kitchen or living room—only in the bedrooms. Combine that with a gas oven, and you’ve got a free sauna for a house. Living in swimsuits ‘round the clock over here, peeps.

And here I go again, ranting about my hectic life when Billy is busier than a mosquito at a nudist colony. It’s just that I like things to always be about me and frankly, Billy’s days are not as lively as mine. I should really stop asking him “How was your day?” if I’m not willing to listen to his responses of all the science and junk he’s learning. It’s not that I’m not interested, but as soon as he starts talking about his classes, my brain shuts itself off. I’m all about the soft sciences and Star Wars, but real science and I don’t mesh well. But I do try my hardest to tone down my love of the island, because he can’t really want to hear about how awesome the snorkeling at Magazine beach was the other day, right?

Regardless of my poor wifely duties, I’ve been so proud of how hard he has been working. He wakes up at 6:30 every morning and I drive him down to the school. I come back to bed for a few hours while he is slaving away. Sometimes I meet him for lunch around noon and then he has classes from 1-5 every day. After that, he comes home to devour a home-cooked meal from his fabulous wife and starts studying again from 6:30 PM until midnight. Then he sleeps and starts the whole thing all over again. I really don’t know how he does it. He did well on his first exams, and now he has a much better idea of what he needs to focus on for midterms (which are in 3 weeks, yikes! When did it get to be the middle of September?). Those who knew us while we were dating would be shocked to see the people we have become. I swear we went boating every single day, because he didn’t have a job and I called in sick to work like twice a week. We sure love to have fun, but fun needs to be funded. I guess.

Here is my life according to my phone and GoPro...as if this post wasn’t random enough.

Facing my fear of sea urchins. It pays to make friends with the locals.

Just chillin' at BBC beach with some nuns. We had to ask them to put their tops back on for the picture.Photo stolen from Erin Anderson :)

Some of us trophy wives went river-tubing on the Balthazar river. Such gorgeous scenery and even better company.

Our guides were great. Definitely a "must-do" in Grenada.

Billy shows off his shark tooth necklace to anyone nice enough to pretend to care. Even interrupting a quality FaceTime sesh with my girlfriend.

Studying himself ragged means he falls asleep while cuddling every night.
I kinda love it though. It's like when a busy toddler will only cuddle when they're sick and moms eat it up.

Budgeting is a lot simpler when all of your money is spent at IGA.

Taking his exams last Monday meant that we had a full day off to spend with each other and some bad ass friends. We even got to eat lunch together. The good life y'all.

We bribe them to be our friends by sharing our private beach. :)

We FaceTime each other from different bedrooms. Not THAT pathetic, right?