Things that make me feel unneccesarily lonely

1. Putting suntan lotion on (or not, as it were)

I am embarrassingly pale. The shame is made more acute by the fact that I live in Mexico. Imagine me under a palapa, drinking something with an umbrella in it, if you must. That's not exactly what Oaxaca looks like. However, I think my legs have become this shade of blinding white due to two factors: It's rainy season here, and I have a job that requires me to be inside, with my nose to a computer for hours.

Regardless of all these obstacles, I have the desire, at time, to sit outside and take in the sun. How do you reach that darn triangle of back that only another person can access with SPF 30? Oh Coppertone, who knew you would make me feel so dependent on others....?

2. Wrist jewelry

Someone very kindly gave me a lovely silver bracelet for my birthday recently. I love it. I cannot, however, wear it. That is, unless, I find myself a personal dresser. It took me a good 20 minutes to get the clasp shut on this bracelet the other morning. I think I even was sweating in the end. It's now sitting permanently on my wrist--'cause who has time to struggle and sweat for 20 minutes in the morning...?

When I finally hitched the clasp I sat down, and felt a deep sense of melancholy...where oh where is my personal dresser?

3. Furniture from Ikea

Now I don't actually own any Ikea furniture any more. The big chain has yet to make its way to southern Mexico. But I DO recall trekking out to New Jersey a while back and buying a dresser, and some Sweddish meatballs once-upon-a-time. I even lugged the boxed up dresser home on the bus, and then the subway, dangerously hoisting it too close to people's heads on my rush hour train. But then I was stuck. You can't hold two pieces of wood together in an L shape AND screw them together. You just can't.

I called a friend, who graciously offered to help. It's an obvious solution, of course. But I felt so grateful that someone who wasn't bound to me by law, or sleeping with me regularly would spend an hour helping to fix plasterboard to naked wood. I almost married him on the spot out of gratitude!

4. My oven

Something spilled over from my white bean/pesto/ricotta casserole the other and melted into a glue on the bottom of my oven. The next time I was heating something up the whole kitchen filled with smoke. When the oven finally cooled off I found myself opening the tiny white door and starring into it, the casserole goo now a blackened smudge. Someone had to clean this--and it was obvious it should be me. I'm the only one who lives here. And I thought, "huh, I have to clean this oven. Me. I clean ovens now." Which was quickly followed by, "Mexico can be lonely."

Strange.

And now...a roof dog!

**this blog written while listening to Oslo in the Summertime by Of Montreal