Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Letter to Natalya (translated for your enjoyment)

Dear Natalya,

I write you from the most remote corner of your being, where I have been since the day you left your home 9 years ago. You meet with your Conscience almost daily, and your Ego is constantly roaming freely around. But alas, poor me, I have been totally neglected.

It's been a while since we last spoke. I'd ask what has been going on, but I know the answer to that question. I'm well aware of all the stupid things you do (like crashing against poles embedded in the ground). And, although you might not believe me, I do have answers to all your questions. I know, I know I am not German, but being who I am has a lot of advantages. I was actually quite fond of Pearl when you two lived together; I remember her favorite phrase: Nattie, if you have to ask, the answer is yes. Why didn't you pay attention to Pearl? Because your Conscience was saying something else. Well, there you go.

So, now that I've caught you off-guard while you're in the mirror with your Ego, I take the opportunity to write you a letter. Maybe this way, you will pay a little more attention to me.

No, Natalya, you are not German. Yes, Natalya, you are going to be cold. No, Natalya, you did not put on enough socks nor winter panties. Yes, Natalya, you do have to wear a sweater under your jacket. No, Natalya, you are not dressed well enough for the weather.

Let's talk about your bike-riding skills. I know you think you are very smart. I know you think you are an excellent student, and a fast learner. If all of that were true, why the heck have you not learned, after 3 months of riding your bike almost every day, how to signal with your hand when you are going to turn?! Germans are very careful, and very, very good drivers/riders. But they are not used to incompetent drivers/riders--like you. They are confident that the other rider/driver has learned the same rules they have, and so will also follow the rules. Don't be such an idiot. Brake more often. But look back before you brake. People might be riding behind you, and you will cause an accident.

Let's talk about the rain. Natalya, sweetheart, water makes you wet. For such ocassions when water falls from the sky and makes you wet--also known as rain--Men have invented waterproof clothing. That means, the clothes do not get wet. Use it. Your little hat, you little gloves, your little scarf, all that little crap you wear made of non-waterproof material will get wet. If you get wet, you will get cold. If you get cold in this weather, you will get a cold. And seeing as you have become a weakling, if you get a cold you will also become unbearably whinny. Poor Honey.

Let's talk about food. Natalya, bless your heart: food has an expiration date printed in the container. I know Germans overreact a little and print an expiration date before the actual expiration, just to be sure. And I also know that you worked for three years in the regulatory affairs section of a company that dealt with products that had close expiration dates, and thus I know that you know that there is a little extra time after the printed expiration date during which the product is good for consumption. But, Natalya, sweetpea, can you please not eat expired food? And, please, can you not buy food soon to expire? By the way, just because you don't have a gallbladder does not necessarily mean you no longer suffer from gastritis. No one said you are "cured"; they just said that the particular episode that sent you to the hospital 4 months ago was caused by gallstones. Therefore, Nattie, darling, it is not healthy for you to eat so many citric foods. Just in case you unsure as to what "so many" means, six mandarines in 1 hora is so many. Too many.

Let's talk about your diet. Yes, Natalya, you are fat. Yes, Natalya, you have gained weight. No, Natalya, it has nothing to do with your so-called gallbladderlessness. Yes, Natalya, it has everything to do with the tons of bread you have been eating since you arrived. And cut the crap with the, oh, but it tastes so good. It tastes like bread. Bread is bread. Here, in Barranquilla, in Lampang, in Augusta and in Bogota. Stop eating so much. But Natalya, sugarbooger, "stop eating so much" does not mean stop eating. And that sillyness about the 2,000 calories--Nat, pumpkin, that works when one eats 2,000 calores in one day...not in one meal. It's cool that you go to the gym, but please watch your hydration. One little bottle of water a day is not enough.

Ah, Natalya, there is so much more that I would like to tell you, but you are soon to come back, and I don't want neither your Conscience nor your Ego to get in this letter. I will continue to try to be by your side in your everyday life, although you make it almost impossible sometimes. You are funnier without me, to be perfectly honest. But, my gosh, sometimes... sometimes I want to grab you and ask, WTF, hey?

Lotsa love,

Your Common Sense

PS: Your Ego says you should write more often, because there is nothing that your mother enjoys more than reading you; and your fans request that you do so, too.

PPS: Your Conscience says to be careful, because Vanity is a Capital Sin.

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