The Art of Being Poor

I did it, guys! I made some friends in Armenia. But, since there has to be a balance in the universe, I seem to have lost, or at least conveniently lost contact with, a lot of people that I considered really important to me back in Oklahoma. Am I sad about it? Yes. What am I going to do? Save my tears and cry into my pillow at night just like Abby Lee Miller taught me to.

My friends are a diverse group: Armenians, Poles, Americans, Koreans. (Polish and Korean girls seem to be a necessary part of my social life wherever I go). We started just by eating lunch together but now we’ve moved on to traveling together and kicking ass at bar trivia once a week. (If you were wondering, Armenian beer DOES, in fact, suck major asshole and not in a good way.) We’ve also had dinner at each other’s apartments and I even brought them to the top of my apartment building, which has a spectacular view of the city and Mount Ararat. When I go up there alone, I am inspired to have indie photo shoots and write emo phrases all over my forearms. Needless to say, that’s my fav part of my apartment. And I like my friends a lot!

But let’s get to the lesson of this blog post: I am the best at being poor. I came to Armenia with less than $1000 in my bank account and more than that in medical bills that I keep running away from. This talent of “poor-ocity” is a gift God gave very few of us. Therefore, I would like to grace you with my knowledge that will hopefully keep you alive even in the most meager financial circumstances.

Pita’s tips for being needy:

1. Pick a ghetto place to live. My toilet runs all day and I haven’t really figured out how to use my hot water/if there is hot water. There are hoodlum children that run around outside and yell at their moms 24/7 and the other day, my doorbell rang 5 times, all to people that had no business bothering me. The apartment doesn’t have a microwave, which is kind of a dealbreaker. I don’t really cook using real appliances so I make everything in the one pot I own or eat cheese and bread. This brings me to my next tip.

2. Eat as little as possible. The first few days I was here were awesome because I wasn’t hungry. I was depressed and in a new environment, both of which make me lose my usually endless appetite. So, I got in the habit of eating one to one and a half meals per day. One of these meals was usually bread. One time, there was a farewell party at work and I hate so many hors d’oeuvres that I didn’t have to eat dinner. It was fantastic. At first, I loved my temporary anorexia. I was walking everywhere and not eating so my pants got looser and everything was great. But the downside of not putting anything inside your body is that nothing comes OUT of your body…like for three/four days. Yeah, not healthy. Plus, the cheapest shit is always loaded with carbs, which is not anorexic-friendly. If I were a dedicated T.Ano-Rex, I would eat one meal a day and it would be Ex Lax. I also have a weakness for ice cream. So, my weight loss plan didn’t work out but I still am a cheap mofo. I eat animal crackers with milk instead of cereal and I steal the UNICEF water from work. I almost stole the air freshener, but it wouldn’t fit in my pocket.

3. Don’t have friends. So this one wasn’t really my choice at the beginning but it happened and I got used to it. When you have friends, anything you do requires money: drinking, going the movies, eating, having sex. When you have no friends, your activities include sitting on your ass, applying for jobs like a madman, watching seasons of Desperate Housewives, and crying. The last one sucks because you get dehydrated and have to ration out more of your stolen UNICEF water.

4. Other ways to save money: cut your own hair until you regret it, walk everywhere even when you feel like you’re going to have a heat stroke, charge all your electronics and use the facilities at work as much as possible (saving electricity and water/air fresheners respectively).

I’ll finish this post with another list. For the record, I still dislike Yerevan. The drivers are morons, the air is polluted, and everyone still stares. I know it’s because I wear shorts and my legs DON’T look like you took a broomstick, covered it in molasses, and rolled it over a herd of gorillas. (This means Armenians are hairy). Anyway!

1. Armenian girls don’t eat. Every time I see them in the cafeteria at the office, they have like two tomatoes and three olives and rave about how full they are. Yeah, girl. I see you wearing those Hannah Montana-sized clothes and I wish I could fit into them too.

2. They think I’m British. WTF? I almost took this job teaching at a local high school but the pay wasn’t worth it. The English teacher kept telling me to make a PowerPoint presentation about London or the Olympics or the weather in England. Obviously, she should NOT be teaching English if she thinks the words coming out of my mouth sound anything like Madonna’s. (That’s a joke, you guys. I know Madge is from Michigan.)

3. My latest obsession and goal is doing the splits. My flexibility is something that I’ve been “complimented” on before though it’s weird when it comes from a boy you’ve met in the biblical sense (if you can use that expression with gay boys).

Me: “I’m really flexible”

Boy who will stop talking to me in a week: “Yeah, I’ve noticed”

Me: “Thanks?”

It’s not the sexiest talent but ain’t no boys coming to dip this pretzel in cheese any time soon so I can do whatever I want.

If you find me a job, I’ll show a pic of me splitting like a banana!