Kemi, my youngest sister, the soon-to-be doctor, has what I think are two odd extracurricular hobbies—hunting for sweepstakes and giveaways, and trying to get herself on television.
She enters online contests just about every day, knows about auditions for extras, and is forever trying to nominate sections of our house—basement, kitchen, bathroom, you name it—for home makeover shows. I marvel at where she finds the time and energy since the last I heard attending medical school is supposed to sap you of both.
The funny thing is that it works. She's notoriously lucky at winning.
A few years back she won a L'Oreal (I believe) sweepstakes and scored a free trip to Los Angeles. Fancy hotel, limo service, day at a salon, shopping spree and dinner at some fancy restaurant, all included. She entered our little brother into some random sports essay competition—which SHE pretty much WROTE—and wouldn't you believe it, little bro won a free cruise to the Caribbean!
Then there was the spot she landed on a segment for a Japanese morning show. Japan, y'all! She appeared as an extra in a story about the Japanese craze for fitness videos. And sure enough, there she was grinning her way through dance moves for “Hip Hop Abs”.
And now her latest and probably biggest coup to date—commanding an entire episode of the Food Network's “Rescue Chef”.
“Danny Boome brings a med student's meal back to life with a heart-friendly menu of baked citrus salmon, roast vegetable cous cous, watercress salad with citrus vinaigrette and a fresh fruit & lemon.“
(Check out the episode guide for recipes Kemi and Chef Danny will be making.)
The lowdown on Boome? “Funny, flirty and loves telling dirty jokes.”
So if you're a fan of the Food Network, Rescue Chef, or just plain curious, tune in or set your TiVo for Saturday, April 19, 12pm ET/PT.
Kemi herself will not be on hand to watch her debut. She's currently vacationing in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic. I think she paid for that trip....
Her next target? A spot on Law & Order.
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Can a gym membership be considered a political statement?
Last week, a manager in my office decided to auction off a spare six-month all-access membership to a tony fitness chain here in Prague. The proceeds of the bid would be donated to a team of expat filmmakers making a “Support Obama” ad campaign that they wanted to enter into competition.
The ad setup: People on a bus humming to the Gypsy Kings' Volare and slowly building into the song. But instead of singing the chorus: “Vooo-lare”, the riders substitute: “Ooo-bama”. Uhh? Hey, it's not my idea.... (The filmmakers were looking for extras and had sent the script around. As appealing as 30 seconds of fame sounded, Obama doesn't pay my salary and I had to work on the day of the shoot.)
One thing I don't do much of is talk politics, which these days is hard to avoid given the momentous nature of the race taking place back home. Everyone wants to know: Who are you rooting for? Hillary? Obama?
I'd bid at a “Support Giuliani” auction if it meant getting a good deal. (Gasp!) What can I say? I want to work out. Summer's around the corner and my gym membership expired two weeks ago.
One year at this fancy fitness chain (it has three branches) will set you back 30,000kc; I won the half-year access for 3750kc. Now seriously, how could anyone let politics stand in the way of such a sweet bargain?
I'd like to think my strategic bidding tactics—flattering and then threatening my competition (I know where you sit...!)—played a factor, but I only had two rivals. Plus, Czechs are even more thrifty than I am, and the fellas I work with? Well, if you saw them you'd understand....
I went by the main gym today to pick up my pass. Definitely swanky. It's going to be hard to return to my blue-collar roots once the membership expires. But one thing's certain: I'll be fit enough by November to sprint to the Embassy to cast my vote for the best candidate.
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Dear Friends, Fellow Bloggers, and Readers,
I figured that I better return to blogging or risk people thinking I was some nutty black chick-blogger forever mourning one dead mouse.
It's been ages. You'd think I have plenty of stories to tell, but the boring truth is I've been busy with work. For a good while in March I was operating in “New York Stress Mode” and convinced that I was on track for a burnout similar to last August's. Eventually, I had to tell myself to get realistic about priorities even if it meant turning down extra assignments and slowing things down at work. I've stayed out of trouble though—no purchase of pepper spray yet.
Here are quick updates:
* My No-Dessert Lent was a bust. My need for sucrose, it turns out, trumped scoring points with the Lord, and I caved about two weeks before the finish line. I confirmed my spot in hell with an Orange Confit recipe from the New York Times. (Watch the Minimalist video here.) It's rather funny though. You would think to break Lent that I'd hop a tram to Passion Chocolat and gorge myself on French patisserie or just make a five-minute Tesco run for a bland tort, but no, I choose to wait an additional 16 hours for damnation.
* I have two incredibly smart sisters. Wande got accepted into a superb MBA program and received full scholarship to boot, while Kemi nabbed a residency spot in Emergency Medicine. I'm super thrilled for the both of them—and for me. One sister supplies me with the prescription narcs to sell for a cushy side income, while the other gives me investment advice to grow my profits. Sweet.
* I met one of my readers in person late February. Hello BlackCaeser! He's an American working half time in London and the other half in America, and was visiting Prague. We met up at Cafe Louvre and chatted over drinks for about an hour. I suspect that we deemed each other “safe” (Ha!) because we reconnected two evenings later for Czech food and beer in my neighborhood. It was cool to meet him, and now I've got someone to grab a pint with next time I'm in London. (Camille, are you still visiting?)
* After last year's break-up with Jan, I walked around in a rage-filled haze. For every five or six agonizing scenarios that I dreamt up for him—getting run over by a tram; going broke and becoming a hobo; wasting away from an incurable disease; getting framed for murder or drowning in a five-star hotel pool—there was always a tiny what-if: What if he came back? Then one day he called. And was I ranting and raving like a wronged woman? No.... Afterwards, I hung up and ranted and raved—at me.
* I am being courted via SMS by a new suitor in Nigeria. I have no idea who this man is, but he insists that I am the one for him and has been sending me inspirational text messages since March. “....God will glorify, magnify, purify, beautify, sanctify you....” I suspect that my aunt is the driving force behind this new electronic romance—she of the “You need a man to complete you” school of thought—but she denies it. The genesis of this courtship though deserves a full post of its own. Stay tuned.
* Finally I took my first trip this year, but not to any place new—Amsterdam. (I've got some pictures coming soon to Flickr.) I visited my friend Neesha last weekend; she was a fellow expat in Prague for a few months before calling it quits last Spring and heading back to the Netherlands. This was my second trip to Amsterdam, and with a local as my guide I certainly ate better than on the first trip. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Women in Prague are being deprived of certain inalienable rights—Great Shopping and Attractive Men! I lusted after shoes and boys equally in Amsterdam.
* I'll be States-side in May! Spending about ten days in San Francisco for work, and two weeks vacation in New York. Eagerly counting down the days.
And these y'all are some of what I have to share from the last six weeks.
Cau!
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Kemi, my youngest sister, the soon-to-be doctor, has what I think are two odd extracurricular hobbies—hunting for sweepstakes and giveaways, and trying to get herself on television.
And now her latest and probably biggest coup to date—commanding an entire episode of the Food Network's “Rescue Chef”.
The lowdown on Boome? “Funny, flirty and loves telling dirty jokes.”
