Bring me my spork!

Oooooo. Creepy. Washington D. C. is listening in.

Not only is Big Brother listening, but he shows up on some site stat counters, and not on others.

Hey, Washington D. C.! Get a clue! If you're going to be invisible on SiteMeter, why not take the time to make yourself invisible on Feedjit too? I didn't see your dot on ClustrMaps, so you've got that one knocked, baby. But smarten up your overall approach. You've got to make yourself invisible EVERYWHERE to be really invisible.

Perhaps you'd like to hire me on as a consultant? A blogosphere babe? I'm not that technically adept, but I'm a clever systems tester. Or I could be the American Embassy's Secret Shopper. You know, where I travel to every country in the world to get new pages added to my passport and then evaluate Embassy office efficiency? International WoMan of Mystery. That would be great! I could use a day job. 

And since my underwire bra sets off airport security every single time, I can even report back on international travel security bottlenecks in the same breath.

At least if I link to you, you'll check me out again.

And again.

And again.

Or not. But seriously. It's a slight security flaw. Just sayin'.

On the other hand, it'll be great for my visitor statistics, so do whatever you want.

Moving on. Must type quickly. I can hear the sirens in the distance.

Am I reminding anyone of George Clooney in Tajnę Przez Poufne? Funniest movie ever! Especially good to watch in Poland because you get to laugh first, before everyone else has completely finished reading the Polish subtitles, thus making a complete braying ass of yourself at the 5pm matinee. 

But that's what I'm here for, as I've already said. To keep Poland amused.

So.  What are we on about, today, then?

Well, perhaps the strength of the dollar against the pound? Brilliant. After 6 years of being abroad I finally understand exchange rates. 

I think. Sort of. 

Mr D and I had an argument as recently as last month, in Bucharest, about which way the Leu/Dollar multiplier was supposed to work. I do find it all rather confusing, and since Mr D likes to think in dollars, and I like to think in pounds, we don't get on very well. Especially in Romania, which, while it does actually have its own currency, generally refuses to use it, and prefers Euros instead. Just try to spend your Romanian Lei in the airport. It simply can't be done. Fortunately Mr D had me on such a strict allowance that I had barely enough for a Nestea.

Still, given the current economic situation, Miss T's decision to go to the University of Edinburgh to study international business is starting to look like the most fiscally responsible plan of all time. In three months, her school fees have essentially dropped 25%, due to the weakening pound. Mmmm, baby! 

But no, this is all heavy rowing for the math-challenged expateek. 

How about a little mystery-tinged anecdote, then? 

I was talking with my marathon-running (New York 2008, 4hrs 2 min!) friend Janice a few weeks ago, and we were once again brainstorming about taking up a new sport. I reminded her about the romantic allure of fencing, which reminded me of a guy I saw the other morning on my walk toward the Metro at Plac Wilsona.

A man in a beige overcoat strolled toward me. We were the only ones around, and as we got closer and closer, I could see he was a handsome, fit, and ever-so-slightly graying guy in his mid-50's. Very smart looking.

As we passed on the pavement, I looked down at what he was holding in his right hand.

It was a huge sabre! In a scabbard! (I guess. My 19th century weapons vocabulary is a bit rusty.) He hummed a little tune under his breath and walked off into the distance, toward the river.

What was that all about? Dueling at dawn on the banks of the Wistula? Sword-fighting drills at the Olympic Sports Centre? Or just out for a morning stroll in Żoliborz, armed and ready?

Normal in Poland? I'm totally mystified.

Footnotes:

1. Never mind, Washington D. C.! You do show up everywhere after all. My mistake: there was just a slight delay in the Sitemeter updates. But come to my place anyway and tell me what you do at the Southern MD Facility. Is it the kind of place that cares for folks like me? Where no pointy objects are allowed and you eat your porridge with a spork? Do tell! Me and my secret boyfriend, George Clooney, are dying to know!
2. Note to self: Use "braying" every day for the rest of November/NaBloPoMo. It will release the toxins and cleanse the soul.