Ghetto Fabulous

I wonder what a version of me ten years older would think if she spent one day walking in my shoes and living in my home. There are a couple things I think she'd be unimpressed with.

Like the singular fork I claim as my possession. Only one fork to eat with, cook with, and clean. A lone fork, washed three times daily and dried on the rack, that is seldom dried by a towel because the towel is seldom clean.

The two towels, one of which is dirty and ready for washing, and the other of which is still drying from my last shower, the last shower that was taken before 10 pm, as that is when the hot water shuts off.

And then venturing onto my desk, where there is a can of pennies (pence?) marked candy fund, which is a habit which most people give up by the age of five. I started this habit five days ago.

But all these things that me, ten years from now, might scoff at, make me a bit glad, as they all suggest a certain practicality and simplicity. For instance, I only have one fork (and one bowl, one spoon, and one plate for that matter) so that dishes do not accumulate. If I need a fork, I have to wash it. So far the system has worked impeccably.

As for the jar of pennies/pence- thoroughly utilitarian, as it is doing wonders at the moment to curb my sweet tooth and save me bits of money here and there. The heavier the jar, the lighter I am.

As for the towels, and the cold water, well, I can't say I'm thrilled about either of those. But tonight as I was washing my hands in the cold faucet of my shared bathroom, I thought, when else in my life will this even be acceptable? And when else in life will I be this happy, given my conditions? The answer is never.

Ecclesiates 3:1 says that "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven." Now, owning only one fork is a pretty weird purpose to have under heaven, but I think I get the point.

Not having nice stuff (except my clothes, which were purchased in a different season, literally and figuratively) makes you appreciate nice experiences and nice people. Like today, I was surprised by a friend by an old book entitled "Speakin' Norn Iron as She Should Be Spoke." The book now holds a place of high esteem in my household.

Whenever I can find one bad thing in my life, I usually find that with it comes 100 good things. Maybe this is because I watched Pollyanna too much as a child, but I think it is probably that I am very blessed. Waltzing in with my complaints of my new home are the ridiculously awesome things: Living in a beautiful, historic city- and the best location in town, might I add! Getting a top-drawer education where most of my professors wrote the textbook for the class. Meeting people from all over the world passionate about their studies. Getting the chance to travel to places I wouldn't even have dreamed of at one time.

So, while my life at times may reek of ghetto, it is more than compensated for by the abundance of fabulous in my life.



Some graffiti in Dublin- even better- graffiti with typos! My favorite kind.