No More Rock-n-Roll Lifestyle; or, Bocas Cerradas

"En boca cerrada no entran moscas."

I had to learn a huge list of Spanish idioms in college, and this is the one I liked and remembered the most.

Basically it means, "in a closed mouth, no flies will enter."

In other words, learn to close your big mouth so you don't have to put your foot in it.

I've had to do that with much frequency lately. I don't know if it's because with a somewhat/certain end date I feel free to finally relax and be me, but I am losing patience with certain types of people and situations. Sometimes the real me needs to sit back and keep her big mouth shut. 

Part of it is my never-ending frustration with the bureaucracy that is working for the federal government. Part of it is I finally don't have to deal with certain types of personalities much longer, and I am having a hard time biting my tongue. I try to be professional, and on the occasions that I have been rude or inconsiderate, I have really tried to apologize. I know I'm not perfect and I own it.

But maaaaan. . . the closer I get to leaving, the harder it gets to keep my big fat mouth shut.

And to answer the question many of you keep messaging me---still no budget resolution, so still no orders, so no definite summer plans of when we'll move and where we will be en route to Spain. I now have two sets of orders waiting in the queue. The first is RAT in conjunction with PCS orders (in other words, our yearly paid trip back to the US coupled with our trip to Spain). Everything is still on hold until a budget is passed. I'm also waiting for our child's educational orders so he can---wait for it---move back to Cuba for 2 months and then move back to Spain. Makes a lot of sense, right?

Actually, it does, because he will have nowhere to live for the 2 months between the end of the semester (mid-May) and the time we get to Spain (hopefully mid-July). And most importantly---he gets to clean his room before the big move. Oh boy! 

I'm trying not to be fatalistic and think something will go wrong, so hope springs eternal in GTMO! This means I am throwing out 4-5 big black garbage bags of stuff a week. Things like worn out clothes that I can't give away. Living in 365 days of summer means you wear out your shorts rather quickly---I have several pairs I love that have frayed so badly and the pockets have completely worn out, but I just can't get rid of them yet. Who the hell has sentimental shorts? That would be ME. Broken toys, old catalogs, worn out shoes, the list goes on.  Expired medications and toiletries, dried out nail polish---it's exhausting. I went through my gardening stuff today and threw out broken pots and tools. It's just the tip of the overwhelming iceberg full of crap we have managed to accumulate through 25 years together.

Today it was a also trip down memory lane during my cleaning binge, and I threw out hundreds of CDs. I could have donated them to the thrift shop, but their shelves are full of CDs that nobody is buying. I could load them onto my computer and iPod, but really, I bought most of those for only a few songs. Remember when you bought a CD for one song? The brutal truth is unlike all the books I've given away, most of them are too embarrassing to take them to school to offer up for free because I didn't always have the best taste in music.

This reminds me of a favorite song from Cake's very first album I bought when we lived in Colorado Springs and listened to non-stop (where did that CD go?!?!), "Rock and Roll Lifestyle":

Well, your CD collection looks shiny and costly
How much did you pay for your Bad Moto Guzzi?
And how much did you spend on your black leather jacket
Is it you or your parents in this income tax bracket?
Now tickets to concerts
And drinking at clubs
Sometimes for music that you haven't even heard of
And how much did you pay for your rock and roll t-shirt
That proves you were there
That you heard of them first?



I kept all the David Bowie, REM, Pixies, Hole, and the Replacements.  My first Fiona Apple album---still love it---and the Jane's Addiction CD I listened to non-stop in college. And there were CDs I listened to all the time I can't find---all the Beatles and Stones (Some Girls was my favorite in college), Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, Nirvana, the list goes on. Yes, I am dating myself. I didn't have much from the 80s, but I could supply a throwback 90s store with all I just threw out. And I really feel a little guilt for all the plastic that will be burned---they burn garbage here, and when I lived in the neighborhood nearest the landfill, you could always tell plastics day---my eyes would burn fiercely and I would have a horrendous headache for 2-3 days afterwards.

The flip side of downsizing is I have taken 3 big loads of books to school to donate to teachers, and they are almost all gone. I took a huge box of children's books to the thrift store---some were in pristine condition---which is exciting, because their kids' collection isn't the greatest. I took a huge basket of both of my kid's clothes that were also in great condition. Hopefully someone can use them here, and part of the proceeds from the thrift store goes to scholarships for high school kids, so I feel really great about that.

My favorite college professor whom I have mentioned in this blog numerous times, Dr. Karen Austin, once told my husband and me before we married that all adults should have to make a big move at least once every five years of their lives. It forces you to continually downsize. I've realized a few things about my life during our move here and now getting ready for another move: I attach myself to sentimental items (shorts? CDs?!?!) I can live without. I can live with half of the clothes, toiletries, and even food I have and survive very comfortably. My parents raised me to be frugal (and we gave away tons of clothes and toys every year), but I have somehow managed to let the weeding go by the wayside and accumulated more stuff. The little bit of traveling I have done has shown me how much less most people in the world need, and I am on my never-ending goal of retiring with what will fit in a few suitcases and not much else.