Monday, August 31, 2015

Netflix and Drivers Ed

I did not go tango dancing on Saturday night. I watched old episodes of Malcolm in the Middle on Netflix, instead. We have to use a VPN to access Netflix in Greece. If we don't connect to that network before we go to the Netflix site, a depressing message pops up saying, "Netflix hasn't come to your country yet, so good luck trying to survive without old episodes of Malcolm in the Middle," or something like that.

I also organized my craft closet!
I'm the Expat Martha Stewart!


Since we last virtually gathered together on this blog, two more people have tried to ask me for directions in Greek. I'm passing! I'm really passing! I couldn't help them, but at least I look like I could.


This is something I found when I got lost.
It's a church for St. George.
You know that guy, he's the patron Saint of England.
Everybody loves him.
I love the "Beware of Dog" sign.
I want one for Bella.

This morning, I watched as some poor soul tried to learn to drive a stick. I think, based on not very much internet research, that you have to obtain formal instruction from a driving school if you want to get a license in Greece. You also have to be 18 or older. Almost every car here is manual, so it's an essential skill to learn. I got a real kick out the dude this morning. It's the first time I've seen someone in another country engaging in the universal struggle of learning manual. I remember trying to learn how to drive stick in high school in the middle of winter in Utah. I got stuck on a snowy, .01% incline, and couldn't get the car moving. I killed it more than a dozen times trying to get over the "hill." The harder I tried, the angrier I got. The angrier I got, the more the windows fogged up. After a while, I found an audience.  None of them helped, they just stood and enjoyed the scene. I can't remember how I finally got out of there, but I think the profanity helped.


This has no relevance to any of the topics we've covered,
but look at my freaking basil. Look at it!

This afternoon, I caught a guy peeing on a tree near the mall. He didn't seem that fazed by my sudden appearance, maybe because he was peeing in public in a parking lot. I don't know enough Greek profanity to tell him what a ****-hat he was being, especially since there were bathrooms about a hundred yards meters away, but this incident has strengthened my resolve to do so without delay.

Bella, waiting to hear that profanity.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.