6 Months in Measurable Indicators

I'm compiling this list a month early, and the numbers will change exponentially...but you gotta write when it strikes. Inspired by my favorite post of Miriam's during her time in Senegal.

54 dollars in foreign ATM withdrawal fees, even though I am a Citibank customer and went to Citibank ATMs. Bastards.

10 pounds of weight gained. My weight hadn't changed in 9 years.

3 bars of soap used. I only shower every other day. Proud of it.

2 times getting eyebrows shaped.

1 haircut unplanned as usual.

6 metro monthly passes purchased...No shit, Sherlock.

0 items of clothing dropped to the ground while hung to dry out our 3rd floor window.

6 countries visited.

9 visitors from outside of Spain.

3 movies seen at the theater. "La casa de Bernarda Alba," "Hunger Games," and "Take Shelter."

2000 besos exchanged (very conservative estimate). I give and receive on average 8 kisses a day. On high traffic days, it's probably around 20-24.

28 posts written on this blog. A few deleted.

7 pieces of mail received from 6 countries.

3241 pictures snapped digitally.

????? gallons of tinto de verano consumed. Refer to the second indicator listed above.

Total = Constant, at times unbearable, certainly obnoxious, happiness.

7 Signs of Aging

1) Arch support. This started last December, when I had a week of intense foot pain and couldn't walk much and finally went to see the doctor. She said my feet had high arches and without proper support and stretching exercises, the muscle would get weak and collapse, or something like that. I can never wear my favorite pair of Converse again. I love them so much...but hate them so much for the pain.

What I want to wear.

What I need to wear.

2) Dislike (Fear) of the youth. I actually find myself starting sentences with, "Kids these days..." or "When I was in school, I never..." The sound of a skateboard rattling down the sidewalk inspires far more irritation in me than it used to a few years ago. And I find myself wanting to tell random teenage girls on the metro to "have some self-respect."

3) Quest for the Grey Hair. I think the reason I'm chronically late for work is that I get distracted while brushing my teeth, and begin combing through my hair, trying to see if the strands are grey or just very shiny. This started a few years ago, but I think this daily anxiety is actually going to be the cause of my first grey hair.

4) Wallet to purse. This has been my least favorite change, and I'm going to reverse it as soon as I can. Until a year ago, I prided myself on being able to leave the house with only keys, man wallet, and cellphone somehow squeezed into tiny skinny jeans' pockets. Now, I haul around a bag full of just-in-cases: keys, huge woman wallet, iPod, camera, cellphone, chapstick, little bottle of hand cream, water bottle, and sunglasses. It's disgusting. Especially when people ask if they can put something in my purse. Screw you.

Badass with a Donald Trump wallet has become...

...bag lady.

5) Waking up early. This one weirds me out, because I used to be so good at sleeping undisturbed for 11-13 hours straight. I still go to bed like a teenager, staying up till 1 or 2 AM on weekdays and 3 or 4 AM on weekends. But I wake up at 8 even when I don't need to (and compensate by nodding off at work or having a siesta in the afternoon). I can't tell if I'm excited for life every morning or to play my turn on Words with Friends.

6) My daily planner. For as long as I can remember, I've used a planner with the academic year starting August and ending July. Last December, I went to my favorite bookstore in Brookline and bought a January-December planner for 2012. Nothing changes, but I'm so used to turning off my brain every June-August for summer break that it's weird to not be throwing a planner in the recycling bin. I'm usually on holidays by now, happily forgetting everything I learned during my latest final exam cram session.


7) Guess my age. I remember shopping for a watch (my graduation present) with Mother two years ago. The clerk behind the counter said, "Oh congratulations! Which high school do you go to?" I glared at her and haughtily announced that I was graduating from college, but secretly rejoiced. These days when anyone guesses my age, it's either correct or a couple of years older. I hope it's because I don't wear Converse anymore and try to dress like a lady, and not because of a grey hair that only I can't see..but everyone else can...I need to find a mirror.