one individual

Heavnly Messages via Facebook

2012-01-22T15:24:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nZtNB5tFTU&sns=fb

was thinking of my dad a lot today, then I got on facebook and received this delightful message from him, sent from heaven. :)

Choosing to put Heaven on Earth

2011-12-05T09:57:00.001-08:00

Get your tissues.

Life is short.

2011-09-03T23:45:00.000-07:00

6 months ago today my father passed away.

To put that into perspective, if I were to live as long as my he did, my life would already be just a little more than half over.

And I'm still young.

Life is short.
And time only speeds up as you go along.

Beautiful Words for when things just suck

2011-08-09T19:13:00.000-07:00

I once stood

I once stood at the top of the world. I once rose to the pinnacle of my life, and then in a heartbeat, a whisper of a moment, I slipped. I fell. I fell to the earthy depths below and it was gone. I have seen the pits of hell, and tasted the ash, and I refuse to allow myself to remain there. Now, I claw my way back to the top. I will climb again, for nothing can prevent me from regaining my perch as the master of my life. I will take the helm of my fate and steer my existence through the squall that my life has become until the waters again become calm and I can look into the vast blue horizon and see my future in the distance.

~Adam Ramirez

Sometimes life kicks you in the teeth, and then repeatedly, and then you get up with a big grin and show off your bruises. Thanks for putting it much more beautifully than I do, Adam.

My new BFF

2011-08-04T14:56:00.000-07:00

I finished my last day of work in San Diego the day my new niece, Jasmin Elena Draper (who intentionally has the same initials as her late, and wonderful, Grandpa Evans). I was less than 24 hours too late to make it to her actual birth but was still able to see her when she was very, very new to this world. And what a doll she is.

Lois (the sister making the niece), having the genuis book of world records for the most insanely easy births, left the hospital even before her 24 hour observation period was up because it was so easy, or least should could have, had they named the baby in time :).

And although this baby is beautiful and already has a big piece of my heart, especially since she doesn't cry too loud, sleeps many hours at a time, and is very clear about what she's after at any given time (Lois' is the luckiest new mom in the world). Although Jasmin has already stolen a big piece of my heart , my week was spent mostly with this little angel:

Jasmin's older sister, Kenya. She and I became fast friends. We played wii fit together, we listened to music together, we danced together, we danced, and danced. We danced a lot :). A LOT. And it was a blast. We blew bubbles and played with the kitty. And by the end of the week we had our own inside jokes and games. Including bonking heads and yelling, "noggin!" We did soft noggins, hard noggins, and medium noggins. We, by we mean I, played with her hair, which was one of my favorite things to do:

One of favorite pics of Kenya is during bath time when she had this awesome Michael Jackson moment:

We put on makeup (don't love this pic of me, but I couldn't help but post it because of how cute Kenya is while helping me put on my makeup).

And one morning we spent an hour lying in bed just making faces at each other giggling until Robert (Jasmin and Kenya's daddy) came in to say hello and see what was going on. We laughed and snuggled and played and played and played.

As Kenya has had trouble sleeping through the night the last little bit, and Lois had a new baby, I even got to be the one to go into her room at night when she woke up yelling for mom and snuggle her back to sleep. Or at least put in the bed and fall asleep on the floor so that when she woke up someone was there with her and she felt comfortable enough to go back to sleep.

Kenya loves people, and loves, loves, loves her new baby sister and can calming sit and hold her forever. She also loves the cat, a little too much. I wish I had a pic of how tolerant this cat really is, but here's a glimpse:

It kind of just worked out that Kenya became "my job" as Lois took care of the baby, and I'm so glad it did. We had a blast and I have a new BFF.

It must be noted that Lois' pregnancy and birthing was so easy that just one week after Jasmin was born she went on a pioneer trek through Martin's Cove with her family. Hope that's genetic. And if I ever have kids, I may even ask permission to steal the name Jasmin almost got. :)

And of course, here are some more pics for you to enjoy:

2011-05-02T17:30:00.000-07:00

This past year was one of the longest and most eventful years of my life.

In the past year of my life I have been to 7 new places: 6 countries: Greece, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, Burma/Myanmar (even if I was only in Burma/Myanmar for an hour for a visa run-I did get a pair of sunglasses there) plus Hawaii. It's opened my mind and broadened my understanding of other people, the world, and myself.

I've had three separate jobs, one permanent in Concord, Ca, in adult outpatient oncology and two travel assignments: one in Santa Rosa, Ca, in adult outpatient oncology; and I'm now starting my third in San Diego, Ca, where I'm returning to pediatrics-also outpatient oncology.

And while I'm ecstatic to report that my mom remains cancer-free, I lost my father exactly two months ago tomorrow, which is one of the longest hurts I think I'll ever endure because from here on out, he'll never be here. And no matter how much healing I do, and how much good comes into my life, that will never change. And I'll miss him over and over again for the rest of my life.

I've become a more competent and at times, an even more confident nurse. And lost confidence in some aspects of my life but gained it in other very important aspects of my life.

I've discovered some new music and new friends. I've retained and deepened my love and trust I've friends I've had for a long time.

I've broken one heart and had my own wrenched and came out of it just fine.

While this year has certainly had countless ups & downs, and has been a very difficult one for me, I can't help but admit that I still love life. And while I have some serious catching up to do in a lot of things I let slip, the wild ride will not be regretted. I hope to learn from my mistakes rather than hide from them or let them beat me down with the thought that I can't overcome my weaknesses, or that I can't make up the slack that came as a result of emotional and physical depletion. It is doable and my slack is a consequence of being human. The blind-siding that happened this past year, knocking me off my ideal course, is not a reflection of who I am or who I always have to be. I'm stronger for it-or at least I will be. And let's face it, I certainly had some wonderful adventures this past year to even it all out!

Yes, I'd consider this year of my life to be one of extremes. Of high accomplishments and near-devastating disappointments.

To sum it all up:

"This is my one and only life and it's a great and terrible and short and endless thing and none of us come out of it alive." -p.s. I love you

I think the song that sums up this past year and that I'll deem my theme for this coming one comes from the same movie as the quote above. Enjoy

Matters of the heart

2011-04-08T17:13:00.000-07:00

I just realized why I'm having such a difficult time studying for my ACLS (Advanced Cardiac Life Support). Because every time I start to think about the heart, I think about my dad. I know it seems silly but it's true.

I was very good at the heart and it's functions in school. It was one of my favorite subjects to study and while looking through my stuff (getting ready for a garage sale tomorrow) I found my old college notes. I got really excited and thought how nicely they would assist in my study for this certification. I didn't think I'd have any difficulty preparing for this test as it all made so much sense and I enjoyed it so much. Now it's just a few days away (Monday with exam Tuesday) and I have yet to crack a book at all, despite my initial excitement.

I just now realized as I sat down this afternoon at 5:15pm, to force myself to do and couldn't. I vaguely caught a glimpse of my subconscious running through what must have been going on in my dad's heart over the past few years, months, days, and minutes of his life. Tracing possible electrical malfunctions and functions. What alternate paths it may have tried to take. How MANY possible paths it must have tried to take in order to have kept such a large man alive for so long! --It's interesting, the hospital had my dad's height listed as 5'8". I remember my dad as six feet tall, with some slight alteration over time. I did remember getting to hug him in the hospital just a few days before he passed and thinking how small he felt. I was looking him in the eyes and my arms were around his shoulders, not his waist.)--

I follow the anatomy and think of him and would I have known to shock him or when to shock him (all this information will be on the test). And how many times his pacemaker had done so until he no longer came back.

(this is a diagram of my dad's heart the doctor gave us. the purple sections are places with electrical activity; the other colors have lessened, varying degrees of activity. the grey areas have no activity, or amounts too small to measure. like I said, it's amazing it worked at all, for any length of time. sheer will to live my friends. sheer will to live.)

I remember just a few weeks ago when I had a patient stop breathing. When I felt the absent pulse I knew I hadn't made a mistake and that it was real, everything said so. Without questioning, I confirmed to the doctor, "she doesn't have a pulse". Without details, we did get her back (my last day of work a patient's family member actually commented to me that she remembered how well I did, and that I had done, "better than the doctor. You were so sweet and calm to her. You helped bring her back." ) I think of the nurses and doctors do their best to feel for a pulse they were already sure wasn't there. I think of the algorithms that may have run through their heads. The same ones I'm trying to remember now.

Either way, the truth is when I go to study the heart I get flooded with this barely audible information in my head. Cheesy or not, I realize that this is reason I've had such a hard time forcing myself to crack the books. Every time I think about it would get a solemn, unmotivated, and a bit depressed. I've put the pieces together now I think. And now that I can make a little bit of sense out of them, and hopefully bring them to the surface where I can deal with them, instead of just chasing glimpses of them around my brain, I can try to solidify all of the necessary information into my brain...

It's a process. And although, my dad's death was inevitable, it still hurts. I find that I do have a lot of questions. Questions who's answers won't change anything...and yet, they get to me. Mostly at night, after I've wasted the day. I don't even realize it's in there until just before I fall asleep, and then I'm awake. And hurting.

Now that I know the connection, perhaps the studying of this test will be beneficial. I can study the heart and use it as a time to remember my dad as well. I can deal with two items that both need to be addressed and hopefully come out with a better understanding of both.

One reoccurring thought I keep having, that is somewhat related to all of this, is what I will tell my kids about him. I think the main thing is: my dad did the best he could at being a dad, but that his real genius was in being a grandpa. I'll tell them that they have the best grandpa that there ever was.

My Dad.

2011-03-03T04:49:00.001-08:00

My dad is dying right now. I don’t mean like he has been for the past several years. I mean that within minutes he’ll be gone. My mom just called (1:54 a.m.) from the hospital in SLC and said that his heart had stopped and that he would be gone in a few minutes.

He had a stroke yesterday morning after he had a risky surgery called an ablation on Monday. He called the ablation his, “double K” plan. “Kill me or Kure me” he kept saying. Fortunately the Lord made sure I got to see him again as I had taken a Monday off for doctor’s appointments, etc from work and had word that he was going in for surgery and although I didn’t feel super strongly one way or the other about going, I did buy a plane ticket and went to see my dad.

We, the doctors, me and everyone, kept telling him that it wasn’t as clear as that and that it hopefully wouldn’t kill him but that it probably wouldn’t cure him, at least entirely. But it was a last resort.

My dad had been experiencing “episodes” we’d been calling them because we weren’t quite sure what else to call them. When I spoke with the Dr, Dr Ramirez, I asked him what exactly was happening during his episodes he said that essentially is he going into ventricular fibrillation. A heart rhythm, that since school immediately attaches to itself in my memory with the text book phrase, “not compatible withe life”.

Basically what that means is that his heart is fluttering randomly, unable to to beat collectively, and effectively, unable to pump any blood. The purpose of his pacemaker, in this case, is to send a shock to his heart to reset the electrical pathway, hoping to synchronize the movement-giving a cohesive beat rather than random fibrillation. (Hence de-fibrillation). It is 2:30 a.m. and I still have not received word on a final death.

I did speak with Lois about 15 mins ago (2:13 a.m.) Lois is calling right now. They called it. While I was one the phone with mom or shortly after she hung up.

I’m speaking with her (Lois) about it right now. 2:32 a.m. That’s when I found our that my dad has died for sure. 2:32 a.m. on March 3rd, 2011. Now I’m thinking about my mom, and then my dad again, and smiling. I remember him telling her before he went in for the ablation on February 28, that he was going to try to stay alive for her long enough to get another vet-check, meaning the beginning of March, or something like that-to make sure she had just a little bit more money. He was a cheeky fellow that's for sure but he always wanted to take care of people, even if he didn’t always know how to do it. And he did it. He always found a way. Often the hard way, but that seems genetic. The Evans way.

I’m glad it’s not especially cold tonight, at least not in my room here in Santa Rosa, where it’s usually very chilly. I’m glad to be able to sit here and remember my dad in warmth.

I also like hearing that I was on the phone when it happened. Although, it doesn’t mean much, maybe it’s just me grasping for last memories of him but I’m glad to hear it. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just one last little connection to him. I love him. I love him so much. He was a great man. Anyone would say it, and not just because he is gone now. Exasperating at times, but you couldn’t help but love him. No one could. My friends still share wonderful memories of him. Usually of being scared of him in the most exciting and happy kind of way. They way kids giggle and scream for you not to tickle their belly while holding up their shirts and inching towards you.

I am especially grateful that my dad looked so good when I saw him (I was in Salt Lake City, Ut at the hospital with him over the weekend). In fact, he looked better than I’d seen him in years.

Mom just sent a text. I can call her now if I want to. I’m calling. I love her. 2:47 a.m.“His lungs stopped first, and then his heart. Then they checked his brain and there was no activity.” She’s telling me that, “he wasn’t going to have much of a recovery after all the work they were doing. And that if he came out it he wouldn’t have a very good life.” I’m typing as she’s telling me.

She says they’re going to do his autopsy. I’m telling her that I don’t care what medical reason they come up with, he’s gone because he wanted to be. Because he chose it. “Kill me or Kure me”. And he’s always made his own decisions. And I don’t doubt that he made this one, as well.

Lois and mom both say that earlier today (I guess it would have been yesterday morning) he said that he had made his peace with God and asked him to give him “the big one”. Those are Lois’ words, I don’t know if those are his words, too, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m glad that he’s made his peace with God. That’s all I’ve been praying for. Okay, not all, but the biggest one. I even fasted for it last time I fasted, last fast Sunday. I prayed that God would forgive him for anything that he might have felt he’d done wrong, but mostly that he would forgive himself, and that even I might forgive him for anything I might be holding on to. I do love my dad. I always have. And I always knew he loved me. It wasn’t always easy and we didn’t always know how to show each other but I think we both knew that we loved each other. Or at least I hope he knows I love him. I never quite knew how to act around him because we’ve had some really special moments but not always a strong relationship-either that or too strong. I do think that my dad and I are a lot alike in many ways. Sometimes, against my will and in some ways I wanted to change. But sometimes, I even see a glimpse of my dad’s greatness in me too. And I like that.

He knows I love him. I’m sure he does. Because he and I had an understanding. A quiet one. Our best times were knowing what we both knew: you don’t need to talk to connect. I remember mostly, when we got along best, I think I was around 13-14. He would be in his room watching tv, lying on his stomach, eating Sour Cream & Cheddar Ruffles potato chips. I would, usually in an attempt to just escape (same reason I think he was in his room watching tv), silently join him in his room. I’d just lie on my stomach next to him and relax. Just relax. My dad didn’t always like sharing his chips but eventually-without words-the bag would tilt my way. We were sharing a moment. He was telling me that he loved me and liked having me around. This was somewhat of a routine for a while. I think we really understood each other in those moments. For just a few moments, no pressure for him, or from him. Just a moment. A father and a daughter, two souls-very similar in some ways-just loving each other. Quietly and without words.

I keep thinking about work later this morning. And I want to go. I want to go and just silently and helpfully go about my day helping people. But I know it’s a bad idea because something unperfect will happen, like someone else not realizing what a special day it is and I’ll be disappointed. Or first, someone will ask how my dad is doing and I’ll smile, not a happy smile, and say that he’s gone. Their pity is what will put me over the edge. I don’t want pity right now. I want peace. And right now I have it.

The first thing I did after my mom called was to pray. I got on my knees and I prayed. I prayed for him, I prayed for my mother, my family, and for me. I prayed that we all might have peace. I prayed hard. I even said to my Father in Heaven, “I’m praying hard right now. I’m praying so hard.” And I did. I prayed hard. And my prayers have been answered. I am at peace right now. I’m sniffly and intermittently crying, but I am at peace. I pray he is too.

I wonder what it’s like up there. Cause I know he went up, even if he’s surprised to find himself there. Which I’m sure he’s not. He wouldn’t have said he’s made his peace if he hadn’t. So I wonder what it’s like up there. I wonder what he’s doing. Because it’s real, you know. Heaven. It’s real. And God, and his love for us. All real. We forget that sometimes, I think.

I’m slowly running out of things to say but I don’t know what to do next if I finish this up. It seems strange to go back to sleep. I wish the temple was open now. Perhaps if I head down there and hit my first and probably only ever 5:00 a.m. session. I will probably be tired by then. I’d like to be very rested and spend a lot of time there today. And outside. He loved outside and I know that’s where he’ll be. Where I’ll feel him the most maybe.

I’m glad we’re sealed together as a family. I’m glad to know he’ll always be my dad. And that for better or worse, I’m part of the Evans clan, indefinitely. Forever.

My dad is dead. And I love him. But he’s so close. I know he always will be. I hope he’s pleased with what he finds in me when he’s watching. I love him. I love him so much. And now I’m hurting. Because I love him so much.

And now I’m hurting. But I’m okay. Thank you all for being who you are. And thank you for the love and support I’ve received through all this.

My dad is dead. And I was on the phone when it happened.

Donald James Evans December 12, 1950-March 3, 2011

2011-03-03T04:20:00.000-08:00

science is coooool!

2011-02-21T14:46:00.000-08:00

NEATO!

An old friend

2010-12-26T20:59:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hhBho4vGKo

This is one of those songs I discovered a long time ago. But it's one of those songs that still makes smile every time it comes on.

It's overall mood (not necessarily the wonderfully romantic lyrics) described my contented, mellow mood while traveling.

Enjoy

I want my bubble back! Or: Jag vill ha min bubbla tillbaka

2010-12-02T19:35:00.000-08:00

Today I am sick of being a tourist. I'm sick of being yelled at, followed, grabbed, dragged, pulled, and pushed. UGH! All of it!
All of this I'm sure has been heightened by the new city I'm in: Danang.
The German girl I met in Cambodia described Saigon very much the way I feel about Danang. Constant noise at stupid volumes. Insane traffic. Rude people and someone, multiple someones, always in your face.

I'm tired of "being rude" if for one minute I don't want to smile and play games or answer the plethora of questions meant to trap and ensnare me into dishonest games.

I don't want to be on display anymore. "My western ways" of space and quiet, and respect for other people's body (there have not been any inappropriate touching-I don't mean to imply that, but there is tugging, pulling, blocking one's way, and literal in-your-face confrontation of whining and pretend begging), wishes, requests is screaming out.

I ended up going to the movies just to get a much lowered level of volume. I saw Harry Potter 7.1. Funny when you go to a loud movie theater for some peace and quiet. I need some solice and it's no where to be found, even and especially at the hotel. SO LOUD. All. the. time. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

*sigh* I found a cafe ran by the deaf :)....aaaaahhhh. Still loud but not as much. a bit of peace. It was fun to not have people constantly talking to me...it was like a family there, that little group. And I did do a bit of eves-dropping to see how many of the signs I recognized. I was able to understand quite a bit of it, if not the details, at least the main topic. I will come back tomorrow if I'm still in town even though, like the rest of Vietnam, I don't love the bland food.

I've also taken to pretending I don't speak English :). It works some times believe it or not. A few speak French and will give that a try but if I do a Nordic (i.e. Swedish) or Germanic accent with gibberish talk, I can get a little less attention.

I'm ready for a little more Laos and lot less Vietnam.

Buon Ma Thout....

2010-11-26T18:51:00.000-08:00

If ever there was a place in S.E.A. that would be useful to have a travel buddy...
The city is modern, despite how far from everything it is. there's plenty of things to do here but most if it and far away, and requires a guide. A very expensive guide, which would be nice to split with someone. There doesn't seem to be a lot of traveler's, especially solo ones here. My hotel and the two major travel companies don't seem too forthcoming with information. I've had to drag snippets out of them but they have no interest in helping me book anything. And like I said, it's very expensive to do these excursions and the cost doubles if you are doing it on your own. Considering I still have quite some time to go here, I wasn't prepared to pay the high prices. Not to mention the men here are no the most pleasant, polite, helpful kind I've gotten to used to and taken for granted. They are brash and rude. They shout out and not in just a, "hey, it's a foreigner" sort of way. They do it to local girls too. They're crude and the attention is unflattering. I've also opted out of being stuck solo with a guide who may end up with the same attitude.

Had I not been so turned off by the new attitude/culture of this city with their lack of helpfulness and rudeness of males I may have got a motorbike and rode all around on my own.

I did go for a very long walk on day---
I just looked for a way out of the city until it turned into dirt roads and forest. It was quite nice.
I passed a Christian semitary. There plenty of people visiting, taking such good care of the graves, even sweeping the ground around them.

If I ever come back to Vietnam-who are we kidding-when I come back this will be a place to come with someone.
Almost no one here speaks English, and those who do speak English don't speak it well, but that actually makes it kind of fun. I ended up getting this delicious meal from a little shop by drawing pictures and acting it out with a few, rare friendly people. They had just as much fun as I did, I think :).

I did however have someone refuse to sell me mangoes today. THAT was devastating! I really wanted those mangoes. Yay, for friendly people who don't hate foreigners and tasty, tasty, street food.

By the third day I was able to finally pry some information concerning a nearby trek the national park without a guide and how to get there but by then I was-to my own discredit-burnt out on this city-and ready to bolt. So I booked a flight of that afternoon. (If I had waited until the next day to leave I wouldn't be able to leave until 1630 and didn't want to spend another full day here.) So quite impatiently and stupidly of me I skipped the National Park in order skip town.

I flew from Buon Ma Thout to Danang and ended up getting one of my favorite shots from the entire trip.

side note:
While chatting with a friend they other night she said, "it's not like you'll be back any time soon..." I was confused, and my thought was, "of course I will". It was then I realized that many people see this as a once in a lifetime thing. And this particular trip certainly was, but it's just the beginning of my travel, which I intend to continue through out my life. Yep. This was the first step that began my journey of the rest of my life filled with adventure and travel.

I'm So Cool

2010-11-26T18:02:00.000-08:00

What's the coolest thing about in Southeast Asia?
Long, Blonde, Beautiful hair? Nope
Stunning, Sparkling, Magical, Blue Eyes? Nuh-uh
Pastey White with Freckles? Not at all

Although I have had a few people, mostly young children stare me down. It's funny because I'm the one who feels rude for looking away when people are staring. What's really odd is that they seem to forget that when they are staring directing into my eyes (which is why I feel rude looking away-cause then they can't see them) that I can see them in return, that I in fact can see them looking at me. That in order to not disturb their curiosity, I have to stare at them right back. And yes, I do get some attention for them and although blue eyes are rare in this area, they have been seen before. Nope. The coolest thing about me in Southeast Asia is......

.....my camelbak. Yep. The attention that little bag gets when people watch me pour water into it they can't get enough. They want to examine, and many are bold enough to ask to try it out. It's kind of fun.

Thanksgiving Solo

2010-11-25T18:47:00.000-08:00

3 nights in Buon Ma Thout and oddly enough, Thanksgiving Day is my fist day alone so far this trip. I enjoyed scouring the market and shops for my Thanksgiving feast. This is what I came up with :

It was a quiet day, but only really stupid Christmas movies on. I was hoping for something fun and seasonal. I did catch up on a bit of sleep as my imagined Turkey coma set in. (Best I could do was KFC. If there is going to be a fast food restaurant around, it's going to be a KFC.)
but the view wasn't terrible.

Traveling Alone

2010-11-23T21:33:00.001-08:00

Many people wonder what's it's like to travel by yourself, or more specifically by myself. Honestly, I haven't been alone much; like at all. I spent the very first night at the hotel airport by myself. Other than that I have either shared a room or was meeting someone early the next morning. So I guess it's more like I've been traveling with strangers than traveling alone. I've run into some pretty cool people too; people I would love to have as friends in my everyday life.

Of course they all happen to be the kind of people who will hop a plane to Asia all by themselves too, so we're already starting off on some pretty solid ground. :)

But to answer the question simply, skip the first verse of this song and you'll have the basics. Plus it's just a really cool song.

In about an hour I will part from my latest travel buddy and be on my own again, and really for the first time this trip...depending on who I meet along the way.

Many more blog entries to come, where you will be introduced to many of said friends. I just don't have time to type them out right now.

Buon Ma Thout by Bus

2010-11-23T18:44:00.000-08:00

The bus ride was breath-takingly beautiful. Planted coffee fiends and every shade of green, all set in small, but plentiful and steep mountain peaks.

Every spare inch of yard was covered with drying coffee (I think that's what it was). I was passing through these small villages around sun set, which is when every one comes out and wraps them up in the tarps they are spread out on, into perfect neat little bundles.

Once it got dark, however, and I was still on the bus for several hours, I was really ready to be done with it all.

Sayonara Da Lat

2010-11-23T18:24:00.000-08:00

Thanks to our wonderful hotel, our plans merely headed to a waterfall ended up as a gondola ride to meditation center (the first peaceful, calming pagoda/temple Ive been to thus far, as most of them have been tourist packed and quite geared toward tourists rather than reverent places). From there we hiked/walked to the waterfalls, with some unintentional detours :).

It was a cool little waterfall, which we had to go downhill to get to--that was interesting :)

I finally understand many a traveler's complaint about Vietnam's tendency to make something a tourist attraction by adding cartoon-like characters. There were some cheesy, plastic animals scattered about, obstructing the natural beauty of the falls. Worse yet, there was a man dressed up as a "cowboy" with his horse that people could pay to have their pictures taken with him. Totally out of place and pointless. Nature doesn't need to be hokey.

And my thought is that people who want to go see natural beauties are more interested in the nature than the cowboy and the plastic toys blocking the landscape.

We grabbed a cab and headed back to the hotel, ready to go our separate ways. I'm headed deeper in the highland to Buan Ma Thout, while Colin is headed coastal---I'll probably head that direction next week--to the city of Hoi An.

We split on good terms, having been good travel companions, and having become good friends. And we made it official on Facebook where will most likely randomly keep in touch, at least through the rest of our trip. He gave me a tighter-than-expected hug and waved as my bus drove off.

Nice kid. Best of luck to him in returning home to Ottawa in the winter after several months in S.E.A.

(Update-we really have kept in touch and really have exchanged pictures of the adventures we had. As I have with a few others I've met along the way.)

The Honey Moon City-Da Lat

2010-11-22T13:46:00.000-08:00

A little story I heard from an expat (Austrailian, I think, but I could be making that up). He told me that while he was sitting at a table outside a cafe (the same one he is sitting at while telling me this story), he had overheard a conversation take place between a young American backpacker and the native Vietnamese waitress, in her late teens. The American had asked her if she enjoyed traveling. "Oh, very much!" she assured him.

"Where is your favorite place you've ever been?" the naive backpacker asked.

Sheepishly, the young waitress explained that she'd never been outside of the town she is currently in but that one day she hoped to go to Da Lat.

-The expat new what she was talking about. Da Lat, the honeymoon city. Every Vietnamese girl dreams of getting married and getting to travel to Da Lat for the honeymoon. But, of course, the backpacker did not.

"Dallas, huh? That sounds pretty cool. I've heard Dallas is a great place to visit."

"Oh, yes! I cannot wait to go. I hope I will get to go one day."

The expat said that he sat back and listened to these two young people from different worlds have a 10 minute conversation about two completely different cities.

And there you have it, an introduction to Da Lat. I didn't hear this story until after I had been there (if you keep close track of the time line-I heard this story in Hoi An, which was a short while after I visited Da Lat, itself).

Ladies and Gentleman: Da Lat (from my hotel window)

Today is Saturday, I guess :). I have no need for knowledge of days of the week. But today is a bus ride from Saigon to Da Lat, in the central highlands of Vietnam. The short trip from out hotel to the bus station was an adventure in itself. Our transportation set up via the bus company were moto taxis.

It's a good thing we didn't have suitcases!

I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's scary how comfortable I am on the back of a bike even with complete strangers...even more scary when you throw in the Saigon traffic.

We weaved in and out of traffic like drunken bumble bees, barely missing non-blinking pedestrians and nearly missing being completely smashed between buses and other vehicles. At one point I believe I had to jerk my leg up to my chest to avoid being crushed. But alas we made it safely to the bus station.

Colin, and I heard there was good rock climbing in Da Lat, which solidified as our next destination. We're on our way. The bus ride itself was beautiful, although nausea-inducing for a few fellow traveler.

Me on the bus. Look at the beautiful green in the background!

Mom was asleep, grandma had the baby and I had....goldfish cracker :). It wasn't long before I had the baby and we became fast friends.

Colin, who is still with me, was on his way to becoming fast friends with the baby as well. He turned into the biggest puddle with this little guy (about 10 mos old).

A short distance into the trip and grandma looked green. I instantly had the baby in my arms and grandma a bag in her hands.

Colin and I had sole custody of that little guy for the remainder of the trip. The best part, aside from watching Colin ooze lovings all over the baby, was that grandma's misery was lessened by us being perfectly good strangers with goldfish crackers, and willing to take a strangers baby a moments notice.

It seems pretty standard here that on buses you get a bottle of water, a wet wipe (aka "refreshing towel", and a barf bag. They don't go unused.

In your Lonely Planet Guide, there is a hotel listed in Da Lat: Peace Hotel. Cross it out. With permanent marker. We couldn't go up or down the stairs without the owners/workers of the hotel, literally obstructing our path, insisting that we buy something. We couldn't leave without being followed halfway down the streets without people crowding us trying to force a sale, right up in our faces. And forget about skipping a meal there and wanting to check out somewhere else. (We did anyway mostly because of the harassment.)

BUT if you're willing to spend a bit more, draw hearts and rainbows around "Dreams Hotel". There are two. We stayed in Dreams II. The rooms were spotless with great ammentiites and the staff were crazy helpful-when asked.

We were never once solicted for anything but if we asked for help or an opinion our plans were enhanced and all bookings take care of within mere minutes with excellent service.

Oh. And the breakfast! It was the reason I got up in the morning! A huge display of fresh fruits, fresh baguettes (yes, the ubiquitous baguette), made to order eggs, fresh Da Lat made yogurt! Endless supply of mangos! Mmmmmmm.....I love the breakfasts here. I'd devour mangos witha side of passion fruit, watermelon and pineaple with made to order eggs that I'd place on my fresh baguette with their version of cream cheese before heading for more mango. I don't even like mango in the states but here I have at least two a day.

Baguettes are ubiquitous here. I first noticed it in Cambodia, which was kept as a French "protectorate" province for about 40 years. (Don't check my facts too closely.) It seems the only thing they've left behind here is the baguette. It really is every wehre! And odd addition to ever asian meal. Your curry, your stir fry, rice, pho with, of course, a baguette on the side. It's rather odd. But there is it nonetheless.

Da Lat itself, with its "eternal spring" weather is werehe most of the French camped out during their occupation, so there are a few French bakeries. The artistry is beautiful. The pastries themselves, not so much.

Day 2 in Da Lat, Vietnam

2010-11-22T11:42:00.000-08:00

Hiking again today, this time with guides. We hiked up Pinhatt mountain to a village area near the lake.

I wish I would have realized we could have camped there. It was beautiful!

I think you have to camp with a guide though and that can be pretty expensive. I had a big of a hard time with the rapid elevation change today. It wasn't nearly as high as yesterdays hike but we ascended much faster. Our guides were determined to get to the top.

Both out guides were college graduates. one had a degree in English and Eco tourism; he also teaches night classes in marketing at a the university. This seemed a little odd as neither one of them looked older than 17.
When we got to the resting point at the top I was all but assaulted by this little guy:

He loved having his picture taken and people here love handing over their babies. Probably doesn't help that encourage this kind of behavior :).

Later on that evening I did some lovely, solo street wandering and met up with Collin again for dinner. Bland food-that's what I think of when I think of Vietnam. Any flavor the food seems to have to me is added nearly entirely by red chilies. We tried the rock grill thing again at an attempt at some flavor-not as good. Colin's was good, he said-seafood style. Mine was pretty bad :). beef jerky, with fat. We tried to regain the gift of taste by finding some ice cream. But the one sure thing about Asia and it's "western food"---you never know how it's going to turn out-or even what it's going to come out looking like. Needless to say, "ice cream" was a bust. The pictures on the walls of the shop were deceiving, as is often the case. They didn't even have the items pictured on the walls listed on the menu.
Off to bed again to sleep. I haven't been sleeping well. I noted early on in this trip there is a constant LOUD noise. ALL. THE. TIME. The fans all squeak not so subtly, but you can't sleep without them because of the heat, and the noise they provide to drown out other noise, which they don't. Cars all hours of the night. And when I say people lay on their horns here constantly, it's not an exaggeration. They literally drive down the street constantly honking. At nothing. For no reason. I heard it rumor it's considered polite. I don't think it's very polite, especially when I'm trying to sleep.
That and I probably go to bed way earlier than the rest of the world.

LangBiang Mountain (Da Lat, Vietnam)

2010-11-21T20:46:00.000-08:00

Colin and I decided to go for a hike today to Langbiang Mountain. This story will be told mostly in pictures-which don't nearly do the beauty or the exertion of this hike justice.

It seems to have become a theme that every time Colin and I decide to do something (i.e rock climbing in Saigon turned into soaking wet clothes and smore making) it starts to rain.

So in keeping with tradition, just a few steps inside of the park, it starts to rain.

We bought little plastic sheaths and up we went. (halfway through the hike they were shredded so badly that we just stuffed them in our packs and hiked soaking wet.

To start, we followed a steep, paved road/path to the most popular summit of Langbiang.

Most people choose to take a jeep up to the top. We decided to do it on our own, despite the weather.

Oh but first I have to mention the "zebra" we ran into. At first we were both really confused. "Are there zebras in Southeast Asia?" Our confusion turns to laughter as when we get closer we see the our "zebra" is just one of the "semi-wide" horses someone has painted to look like a zebra.

That's pretty clever, and probably took some work! Apparently there are a few groups of horses that live in the area. I've heard them referred to as "semi-wild" horses as they don't belong to anyone and just live in the mountain of their own accord.

The hike was beautiful! Lush green, rolling hills/mountains, even with severely obscured viewing I lost my breathe a few times and just let my spirit soar!

Most of our hike was a in a pleasant, light rain. We even saw some of the semi-wild horses along the way, looking very mystical in the clouds we were hiking through.

As we neared the summit it began to pour, really clouding up our view. Once at the top we had some warm drinks (restaurant closed due to no one else being crazy enough to summit in the weather to see a view that is completely white-washed out). and played with a kitten.

We used the same goldfish to make friends with this kitten as we used on the bus to make friends with the baby. There you have it: goldfish=friends.

On our way back down we noticed another trail.... :) unpaved. Knowing we were running out of time and with the weather being terrible and most likely having to come back in the dark of night, we smiled at each other and started down the trail, or should I say UP. This isn't something I'd be stupid enough to do on my own but having a second willing traveler does open up some avenues for more adventurous undertakings.

The hike was wicked awesome! the would-be trail was quickly flooded out and we found ourselves tramping through an instantly formed creek several inches deep.

The peak in the distance behind me is the eventual summit.

The muddy brown clay started pouring from the mountain sides. It's a wonder how there is anything left of the mountain at all after that rainstorm, let alone after a full season of rains like that year after year. Up and up we go. Straight up sometimes. Many sections of this hike even felt very much like rock climbing. :D HEE! Instead of actual rocks, though, I was grasping roots and creating my own holds in the slick, soft red-brown clay. Mmmmm....I LOVED IT! The climb was straight vertical on my than one occasion.

I slipped only on one of these occasions.

Colin calls this picture "photography before chivalry". He did try to help me up afterward, but some things are just easier on you own. :)

We pushed our way through the thick jungle-forest, against the rushing water that had completely flooded the trail

and then FINALLY....the SUMMIT!

It was much much further away and much much higher than anticipated, but the journey itself was worth the trip. Even if the view from the top looked like this:

Completely whited out from the storm.

Sure enough, by the time we got back to where the the original break off from the paved trail was (a little over half way to the top of the first, paved summit) it was black outside. dark. dark. dark. With my poor night vision and Colin's glasses completely fogged up we laughed all the more and continued down the steep slope to the bottom. Finally at the bottom, we realized that there was no more transportation for the night and all the few shops at the entrance were closed. Fortunately for us, a small family was gathered around their television and hunkering down for the night (many of them live in or above their businesses). I'm sure we're not the first idiot travelers they've run into, but you wouldn't know it with how kind they were. They called a cab for us, which had to come all the way from town (about 20 min away) and were sweet enough to bring us some warm tea, which was very much appreciated as I was a popsicle by this time.

I don't do cold well at all and although this was Thailand I had spent the last 7 hours in hiking in a rainstorm that had turned cool toward the evening and now it was night and I was no longer moving. I was COLD! Colin was appropriately concerned and filled our "in-room spa", which was more like an oversized bathtub, when we got back to our awesome hotel and made me get in (in my swimsuit of course) while he prepared a delightful meal of left over chocolate and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I was already half way through my sandwich when he got in his skivvies as well and smashed into the warm water. We laughed uncontrollably for a few minutes while we tried to adjust in the tiny tub and just got used to the others feet in our space. We only had about 4 inches of water when the hot water started to run out so we took turns getting to be waste deep while the other one's legs were barely covered. Of course, becaue he has a good mother, and I was freezing and am defenseless against the cold, I got the first real shower. I think we both slept pretty well that night and woke up to that once again magical spread of deliciousness that is breakfast at this hotel. Yes, I'd say this trip is going quite well. Thank you all for your prayers and well wishes.

Saigon, Day 2

2010-11-19T21:52:00.000-08:00

Our first full day in Saigon we got up and hit the war museum, which yes, is full of propoganda but we skipped most of that opting for the section with actual artifacts and photography from The Vietnam War-or more appropriately called by the rest of the world-The American War.

I'm very sensitive to anyone purposely hurting each other. I can't even watch fighting sports of any kind. It was sick to see some of the photographs of soldiers while torturing children or having chunk of body parts flung about nonchalantly, counting each piece of what used to be human lives, as Viet Cong whether they were civilans, women, children, or complete innocents.

It's embarrassing to know so little about this was as it was so recent ago (Khmer Rouge, being even more recent, and I know even less about that!). I didn't even know what the Khmer Rouge was/is. Talking to other travelers, it seems this is fairly common. No one seems to know a ton, if much at all about it. We (the other travelers I've met and I),wonder how and why we don't really know about these things. And I don't just mean Americans (we're notorious for not knowing anything about the rest of the world. I can't say that I don't understand where that stereotype comes from; I certainly add to it, sadly enough).But I'm certainly not the only one who's a little daft on this subject.
We couldn't really find any good history or explanation for the Vietnam War either. Nothing is clear or concise in any country's history of the event.
There are guesses and theories but there doesn't seem to be any agreement on the specifics , which is why I guess it was ruled an illegal war by the United Nations. The U.S. is still paying fines, damages, and retributions imposed by the U.N. to this day. The retribution part has been done in the laziest and stupidest way possible: like planting pine trees in the wiped out rainforest areas instead of replanting rainforest where tigers and rhinos used to live.
The whole vegetation, I'm sure, has changed the wild life, soil, everything.
I know a few Vietnam War vets and they weren't ever really sure what the war was about either. A good friend of mine still has a lot of difficulty with the things he saw there.
I wonder what makes the ones who go so far, so far wrong/evil, that makes them do so...like the man in one photograph smiling while hurting a small child. I hardly think he was the enemy, and even if he was, he was above all else, a child! And then some of these men go home to their own families, their own children. The mob/military mentality is a very disturbing thing about the human mind. Ugh. Sick.
And no matter what the war or the reason for it...it's still another human life.
Like I said I'm super sensitive to people hurting each other intentionally. I can't even watch boxing, or a close up of a fight during a hockey match, despite my love of the sport. So to see those things for is, as for most, I'm sure, gut-wrenching! But important to know about and understand what has-and in some places still is, happening.
Afterward we had lunch--which while I'm writing this seems terrible to have the thought of food places in such proximity to such horror, even if only in writing--at an overpriced seafood restaurant. I had dry chicken.

That night we returned to the acoustic car we visited last night. I love this place. The variety of music and quality and talent of the performers. That, and it's a total local dig that doesn't mind us pale folk dropping in. I highly recommend it.

Saigon

2010-11-18T21:37:00.000-08:00

Because I haven't written in a while (couldn't find pen and/or paper! I had to take a pen from the embassy I got so desparate) I don't remember everything and certainly not in the order it happened.
However...
Saigon is nuts!

(speaking of nuts, here's some that a few local women shared with us on the bus ride into Saigon. As near as I can make out, they are called "ow"; like "ow" it hurts, "ow". They taste a bit like chestnuts, or maybe even a bit walnut-y. I thought they looked a lot like the heads of the water buffalo they have here. Colin thought they looked more like mustaches. His idea made a better picture.)

The traffic is non-stop, complete chaos. Everyone drives like it's a video game. I do, very badly, want to rent a scooter at some point but it certainly won't be here.
Two nights in Saigon.
The first night we (Colin and I)went to a rec center to get some rock climbing in. No go. As soon as we'd touched the climbing wall it started to pour. We only got two routes done before the gave us a raincheck and stopped us from climbing. The raincheck doesn't do us much good, so we lost that money.
Across the street was a grocery store and I'd been seeing Reese's peanutbutter cups everywhere, which had induced a severe craving. Again, no go.
Colin decided we were going to improvise and make our own. We scoured the grocery store looking for ideas and came up with this:

We engineered a little fondue set, melting the chocolate and dipping out spoonfuls of peanutbutter into our little chocolate puddle. Over fondue peanutbutter cups, I learned that Colin is a geophsyicist and has been working in Cambodia for the past few months. He has one younger brother, and that both he and his dad look, reportedly, exactly like their dad. He loves skiing and has gotten into rock climbing over the last 2 years. He states that he climbs steadily at 5.9 and 5.10's, he can do, but are tough. Awesome.
I did it consistantly for only about 4 months and was starting 5.11's. Man! I need a partner and a gym! (I'm sure his 5.9's are much harder grading system than my gym was, but it's still encouraging.)
Colin is best desribed as having had a very good mother.
Thursday and Friday night (both my nights in Saigon) were spent a great little place: Acoustic Bar.
The place was packed, standing room only both nights. We managed to courch in the same place beside some stairs. The performers were fantastic!
It was funny how I could understand them perfectly as they were singing, with no detectable accent, but had a difficult time understanding some of their accents when they were talking.
On night we ate at a tasty "Rock Grill" restaurant. Your meat cooks on a hot rock that sits in front of you; it was kind of a cool idea and was nice to have some really good food. I haven't had great food in a few days.

Vietnam Border-Chau Doc

2010-11-17T21:17:00.000-08:00

I found out it's possible to take a boat from Phnon Penh down the mighty Mekong River ("Giver of Life"), to the Vietnam border as opposed to bus or train straight to Saigon.

So, I woke up this morning with a big stretch and headed out for a quick massage before departure. I went to a place that has blind persons trained in various styles of massage. The idea is to help them maintain self-sufficiency. I kinda like the idea of my massuer not being able to see me for self-conscious reasons :).

It was quite nice but he did a lot of painful pressue point work on my legs. I'm not sure what style of massage it was and I forgot to take a picture.

A short while I later i was picked up by a tuk tuk. (local cab type thing)
And headed to the dock.

On the boat I immeditately made friends with three Northern Irish guys: Stephen 32, Mark 19, and Al, also 19. I chatted with these guys most of the way. I also met a Canadian named Colin, 25, part-way into the trip. There was also a Swedish woman traveling alone who spoke English but a such a terribly strong accent that no one could understand her. We all took turns smiling and looking at her many pictures; mostly of bars she'd been to. She quite took a liking to Stephen, which led him to take a liking to me as a result.

It was getting dark by the time we reached the border.

The Irish guys headed immediately to Saigon while Colin (the Canadian guy), and I decided to check out the border town of Chau Doc, Vietnam. We'd hoped to see something a lit

tle more off the tourist track

We touched down on ground and inadvertantly picked up a quite useful guide, despite our best efforts not to. Mostly, he just started following us around. Dong, our unsolicited guide a.k.a. our unshakable new friend, actually proved quite helpful. He took us to a hotel-dodgey, at best, probably not the worst in this border town. It lives up to the reputation of dirty border towns everywhere...at least from what we saw of it. Dong also showed us to a clean, tasty restaurant.
Afterward, back at the hotel, which was at least 15 degress (farenheit) warmer inside out room than outside, we decided to book the first bust outta town. We had the lights on and the window open a crack, to make life bearable. Bad idea. The room was flooded with tiny insects, almost completely covering our wall near the light. We shut the window and decided to try to sleep with the light on to keep the obnoxious bugs off us. I was tired and slept, albeit, uncomfortably.
Colin eveutally got fed up with the heat and the bugs. He decided to take matters into his own hands, literally. He took on the bugs, smashing them hand-splats at a time. As I faded in and out I noticed him making some major progress. At one point smaching bugs one at a time with his fingertip until they were ALL gone.
At which point, he turned off the light and we slept in a slightly cooler room with no bugs! Let's here it for determined guys.
We got out of town early the next morning and headed to Saigon by bus.

Phnom Penh cont.

2010-11-16T21:08:00.000-08:00

I met a girl outside my hotel who'd just arrived from Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City, HCMC). We ended up having dinner together, getting stuck at a cafe (the FCC, for those of you who might know it), exchanging travel tips (as we were both headed to where the other had just come from).and watched the geckos on the walls.

We agreed to meet the next day to do at least parat of the walking tour of Phnom Penh. But first we grabbed breakfast.

Mareike, my friend from Germany

There reallys wasn't too much to see and all the really interesting stuff was at the other end of the walking tour, which we didn't get to. We did, however, see the hilltop Pagoda.

By hilltip, it's the only raised ground anywhere near Phnom Penh, and barely raised at that.
The rest of the tour, at least the part we got to, involved like the U.S. embassy and other equally lame sites. The few potentially interesting ones we came to were all closed right as we got to them. (Everything shuts down for a couple of hours in the arly afternoon). Good stuff.

We grabbed some recognizable food (terrible pizza at a pseudo-mall food court) and then headed back to our adjacent hotels for down time and showers. We met up again for dinner and said our good-byes. We've been keeping in touch via facebook with more travel tips and updates for eat other.

_____________________________________________________________________

A few fun misspellings. I gave up taking pics of all of them...

At first I just thought happiness pizza was fact in print. I later learned that "happiness pizza" refers to special herbs they put on it...that's right pot pizza.

Tuol Sleng and the Killing Fields

2010-11-14T19:32:00.000-08:00

water boarding torture device

rules of Tuol Sleng

The next morning before we left Phnom Penh we went to Tuol Sleng,which is a high school that was taken over by the Khmer Rouge. It was awful. And not that long ago. It's amazing how well of a secret it was kept for so long. As Americans, in general, we don't, learn a whole lot about what is going on in other countries, especially politically, but no one really knew a whole lot about this. At least until recently. Shamefully, I've never heard about this until going to Cambodia and even my European friends, at most could say they'd heard the name but didn't know anything about it.

To put it into perspective and how recent this was: there are people my age walking around with torture wounds from these people. Many of the people who did this are still alive-many of them are free men. And the last hearing or trial or something like that was in 2008.

The main guy is at home with his family but very sick, or so reported.

As somewhere it was described, "The murderers were representing their victims at the United Nations for years." (Until like 1998 or something...ugh, again my facts are vague.)

I don't pretend to be very knowledgable on the subject but I can't pretend I wasn't affected, especially when I did see people with the missing fingernails (from having them ripped off as a form of torture) or other ailments caused by the same thing.

Many articles list the end of the Khmer Rouge thirty years ago, but according to Cambodia and the people who lived it, as well at the court dates, those in command were in command a lot later than 1979.

I didn't make it to the Killing Fields so I still lack some serious education on the matter, but it's all very real and not distant enough. There are scars left behind that still sneak up in everyday life.

New Friends.

2010-11-13T00:37:00.000-08:00

I am apparently still traveling withe the Chinese girl who's name I can't pronouce. i have managed to learn that she is 38 years old, has a 7 year old some and a husband back home. She has been traveling for a month now and will go home in 2 days. We bought bust tickets fro Phnom Penh, Cambodia's capital yesterday. I kind of wanted to explore a little more between here and there first. I am a little annoyed with myself for just going along with it because I couldn't explain that to her. Tunrns out we get along just fine and even find commong things to laught about along the way. And, she isnt' stuk by my side so much like I was afraid she might. All is well and it's nice to have a guesthouse discounts with her.

Don't think I'm immune to the if not many, then very faithful prayers sent my way. It's been pretty stellar and things couldn't go much better than they have been.

Yesterday I went to Ankor Wat and Ankor Thom, some serious temple ruins. I was reading that it is over 200 miles of forest and temples/ruins (they are still used today-in fact, we even saw some weddings!).

It really is best to probably spend several days doing it but one was sufficent. My friend was wearing flip flops and it was hot! hot! hot!

Cambodia is much hotter than my first couple of days in Thailand. To be fair, I was a bit further north and only there for a couple of days. Eitehr way, it's hot here. Cambodia, in a word is, sweltering. I'm pretty much a discusting mess all the time. i don't know it's sweat or just condesation from the air but I'm glossy and dripping constantly. The Cambodians (or Khmer, as they are called), are wearing jackets and seem just fine.

As I mentioned before Angkor Wat was pretty phenomenal. I enjoyed getting lost in the temples and climbing all the steep stairs. Some, "climb at your own risk" areas, even felt a bit like rock climbing. (Hence the dreams of not being able to walk and waking up to a tight bum.)

There is no way for me to describe the ruins, you just have to come here. Very Indiana Jones (I recently found out it's where Tume Raider was filmed, now I have to see that movie).So cool

After a bit of down timein the air conditioning, I decided I have to go explore. I walked around town until I came to the central river running through town. I met a man, who's name I didn't catch, but he works for the Cambodian government in the agricultural department. I accepted his invitation to join him in his evening stroll around the lake.

We chatted like old friends. We talked of Cambodia and it's very recent time of peace, of ti's intense poverty and our hopes for its imporvement, both economically and health-wise. he is very inisistant that I could, and should, come to Camboida and be a nurse. He says i could help protect their children as well. The child -trafficking and abuse rate here is scary high. The kind of high that makes me nauseous. Perhaps, if I were a super hero that would be my power. I would save children by drowning their abusers in my vomitous anger.

People like this man really shouldn't encourage me to do such things :). I've nearly walked into several clinics and hospitals--seriously--and asked, "how can I help?" and "how can I get a license to work here?" I don't need people feeding that fire. :)

Early to bed again (approx 8pm), after a tasty diner of Khmer curry and cookies at a charming, floor-sitting joint right across from out guesthouse. My Chinese friend and I laughed and dined.

And on pic just to show one of the few kids I caught on a bike. Often times you'll see younger kids than this standing in front of the driver, holding on to steering wheel. You'll also see up to 5-6 people smashed onto one of these things as well.

Cambodia! A Land of Adaptability and Survival

2010-11-12T18:03:00.001-08:00

When I first arrived in Cambodia I really didn't like it much. It was dirty, very dirty and the people seemed more scam-y. Now I admit fully that I was mistaken. Scam-y, yeah, but trying to make a living out of nothing, more accurate.

This is a quick video of me walking across the Thailand border into Cambodia. It's crazy cool to see what a throw back in time this place is.

I met two women traveling from Hungry at the visa checkpoint (the only other falang on the bus than me; me being the only blonde however). We all decided to share a taxi and needed a fourth person to cut the costs even further. There was a Chinese woman, also traveling alone that we invited to share the car with us. After much confusion we were all smashed into converted old Toyota camry with all our luggage and driver who had a serious cold and kept making gross snorting and coughing noises. I'm taking airborne tonight! Our 2 hour drive took closer to 3.5 as our driver was uncharacteristically slow for the traffic around us, but eventually we made it. I am now somehow sharing a room with the Chinese woman, who speaks very little English and who's name I can't pronounce.

Back to Cambodia.

As with most things, education, exposure and experience changes perspective. My Lonely Planet Guede desribes Cambodia as one big puddle after the rainy season. I'd say that's an accurate description.

One big mud puddle full of beautiful green every where and poeple who, not matter what their game-or storyare polite and for the most part, all that I've encountered anyway, cheerful. Even if you tell them no they continue to smile-guenuinely so. The smile is no scam They're just laughting at their own game. They especially seem to like it when you do the play game-as long as you're smiling, too, of course.

Turns out depsite how poor Cambodia is-most of us never even able to imagine such poverty, let alone such an ability to live happily in it-is an expensive place to be. Everything is "one dollar, lady", even stuff that isn't worth a dollar. My favorite greeting was a man who called after us (us=me and Chinese woman at Angkor Wat, which is worth it's own entry), "Sweet lady! Sweet lady! One dollar, sweet lady!" Something about the cheer in his voice.

Well, there were some beautiful creations mixed in a lot of plain ol' junk/stuff. Add that and throw adorable children into the mix and I'm wishing I had all the "one dollars" in the world.

I did refrain, and did an o.k. job of not buying everything I saw or wanted or that an especially persistant child wanted to sell me, remembering that these children have something I don't....a job to come back to tomorrow.

I did end up buying some bamboo bangles and a large, lovely, piece of art. The bracelets I probably paid too much for, but I couldn't resist. They're really cool. And although I realize they cost nothing to make and they could probably whip out ten of them in 5 minutes, I like 'em. My bargaining skills are less than fantastic as I managed to get one larger bracelet added to my "special price of ten for one dollar, for you lady". My Chinese friend laughed at me as we climbed into our tuk tuk and she showed me the 20 she got for one dollar.

My BEAUTIFUL painting of Angkor Wat (hand-painted) cost me $27. Ibought it froma young man, maybe 15, who says he has been in training for 2 years to become a master painter. He did have some small ones of his own work, which I thought were pretty amaing already, as well. I now realize he's selling his practice, his homework, if you will. Still h is wveryt alented and it's not a talent I possess so I suppose that makesthse works of art even more valuable to me, as it's not an aesthetic I could capture on my own. He was very kind and lacked the despartion asles tactic that so many use, which was refreshing. In the states this art could easily sell for 100's. At least to me, if I had that kind of money. I love my painting.

And Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom were waaaay cooler than I thought they were going to be.

our tuk tuk driver for the day...

the following are of Angkor Wat (Wat meaning temple)

Jurassic Park

2010-11-11T17:21:00.000-08:00

I slept from about 4:3o pm until midnight. I feel like the travel gods were being kind by easing me into this so well...either that or just really hoping to get a good laugh at me today when things are not so smooth. Midnight huh. Too late to join night activities, too early to go do anything else.

However, I can now report that this place (same one as last night) is at least a 3 cockroach guest house. A fact sure to be much less traumatic if not discovered when waking up groggy and disoriented at midnight, stumbling into the "toilet". There was one in the hall outside the bathroom, they other two were buggars were eating pooh that had not been appropriately "flushed" by dumping water on it to make it go down the toilet drain (or-I don't know, maybe you're not supposed to do that, but I do).

Ugh. So I took 1/2 a benadryl, having slept through any night adventures, jazz bar or otherwise. Never been a night persona anyway. But I love live music and it probably would have been a great place to get travel tips from other falang (foreigners). Given my plight, I cozied up to Chris Trapper and John Mayer who did a wonderful job of keeping me company until sleep came again.

And then it happened....

I think it was around 5:00 a.m. when I woke up to something landing o me. COCKROACHES?! Maybe. It seemed slightly larger than that. And warmer....-Maybe that last part is just my imagination. Either way, I awoke, managing to stifle any over reaction and hastily swatter, at which point it scurries, yes scurried across my abdomen. Ack! That felt worse than even knowing something was on me! I've seen rats and mice around, so that's a possibility. Given, shape, size, uuuughhh warmth......it may have been a small rat, or a moderately-sized mouse. In Hawaii I heard that if a gecko lands on you it's good luck. So I'm going with gecko. That's what it was, a gecko. I hope.

It's 5:30 a.m. after all the commotion is over. Well, that's close enough and I'm not going to get back to sleep any time soon. (I have to admit that I have a small fear of something crawling in and living in my ear (i.e. Broken Down Palace, for those of you who've seen it), especially with the hole still present in my left ear drum. It could eat all the way to my brain! (I blasted half of my eardrum away jumping off a cliff in Hawaii-it's still not healed. It was especially obvious on the plane when my right ear would plug and pop as normal but I would just feel a "whoosh" of air in my left ear. Kind of surreal, but just like you'd imagine it would feel with nothing blocking the air pressure change.) Anyway, so I sleep with my headphones in. Also, it helps drown out the ever present noise. I'm a pretty light sleeper, so I'm surprised it doesn't bother me more.I guess one just resigns herself to that just being how it is here. A mentality that helps things go smoother. (I'm so much calmer and less annoyed when I travel, especially here. I attribute it to the magnificent people and hope it rubs off more than just a little.)

I decide to take a shower...in the same room with the "toilet" and cockroaches. Fortunately, the roaches are gone but a rather large frog decides to join me. Yes, one just like from the market yesterday, except not dead yet. I spray him with the cold water before spraying myself. I must say that with that chilling hit I was again pleased with my ability to stifle a yelp.

After my Jurassic Park tour last night and early this morning I went out and about to see if I could find the least expensive way, without burning all of my time, to get to Cambodia. (As I will be doing most of Thailand at the end of my trip with a group my goal is to get out of the country quickly to have more time elsewhere.) A woman at an internet cafe wrote two bus stops for me in Thai. One to the city center on a minibus the other with the name of the Cambodian border crossing I needed to get to.

I spent the next little bit (it's barely 7:00 a.m. at this point) flashing my little pieces of paper around town, being guided and sometimes escorted, to the correct minibus stop. The other passengers, unannoyed, helped me pack all of my gear into the tiny bus/van. In order to not be charged for two seats (which the driver tried) I sat in the same seat as my pack, not an easy feat. No one complained or got frustrated, just seemed pleased that I understood how to pay less money.

A young Thai college student, studying English education :), offered to take make sure I got to the right bus to make my connection. Awesome! I'm sure it helped to solidify the correct price as well. I do have to note that I haven't run into too many problems with people trying to over-charge or scam me as yet. For the most part I would say the Thai are generally more honest than most.

I didn't' realize it until she got me all set up, but I think she even got off on the wrong stop just to make sure I would be ok. She mentioned she had class at 11:30 a.m. and had to go. It was only about 8:30 a.m. at this point.

I am now on a bus traveling safely to the Cambodian border. happy and enjoying the journey. We all could certainly learn a lot from how awesome and un-intimidatingly kind the Thai people are. I saw a man give up his seat, respectfully, several times for monks entering the train. It was a no-brainer. I need to a have a brain that has more no-brainers like that. I hope by the end of this trip I will have learned a thing or two.

Ayuthaya

2010-11-10T16:59:00.000-08:00

I think this guy says, "waaaatttccchhhoiut!"

Today I saw Thailand's largest Buddha. And am happy to report that this is a no cockroach guest house. I slept very well again with some benadryl assistance midway through the night just to make sure I continue to transition to the time change.

I spent most of the morning wandering the market, buying only 1 kilo of grapes, not having much of an appetite yet as is common with jet lag but very foreign to me. Here are a few treasures I found at the market for you viewing pleasure.

Having woken up pretty early, after a couple of hours at the

market I still had plenty of day left. I rented a bike for 40 baht (about $1.60) and headed toward some of the more famous ruins, at least I'd hoped. Boo-yah! Found 'em.

I couldn't see them headed up to them due tot he vast market surrounding the main entrance and park surrounding the perimeter. As i finally made my way through the gate I actually had to catch my breath. They just appeared so suddenly and were like nothing I'd ever seen before.

I have to admit I have almost zero knowledge of Asian/Thai ruins or history. And even though I've been planning this trip in my head for a while, it was a pretty last minute trip (buying my plane ticket just 3 days before leaving), I didn't do any research; therefore I had no idea what to expect. This is what I saw:

There are 3 of the giant white ones holding Emperors 8, 9, and 10, I believe, of the Ayuthaya period (this city of which I am now in). Ayuthaya was the Bangkok before Bangkok. It used to be the center of the country's power until it was conquered and alter rebuild in current day Bangkok. Man, I hope I'm getting all this right. It is an island city, centered where three main rivers meet. The rivers don't seem too big at this point. We did take a small boat from the train station last night to the island but it wasn't much of at trip, maybe 30 yards across at most. While I was out on my bicycle adventure I saw several wooden bridges cars, bikes, and pedestrians could cross easily. Some no more than 8 feet across.

I headed back to my guest ho use to change rooms. I had been sleeping in a double room, meant for two people so I switched to save 50 baht ($1, a seemingly small amount but it all adds up and if I save that four days in a row that's a night in a cheap room). I also switched to show I couldn't be succored into paying extra. An important thing to express right up front or you'll pay double or more what the real cost is. (I don't think I'm super good at it but gotta start somewhere.)

Both days I've managed to stay under budget, spending 409 baht the first day ($16.36) and 302 baht ($12.08) today.Granted I haven't really done much yet but it's good to know how minimally it can be done if necessary. I do have some excursions I really want to do that will add up quickly.

After changing rooms, a man named Toi, who runs a jazz restaurant just a few buildings down wanted to play some U.S. trivia games with me. Sure, he was probably just drumming up business but like everything else in life the people involved can really make or break and experience. We played his games, which I did okay at (ugh), which we played for about 30 minutes and then I headed in for a nap.

My favorite picture so far.

One night in Bangkok

2010-11-09T22:50:00.001-08:00

I seem to have transitioned well. I woke up at 8am this morning feeling pretty good. It's just after 8pm an I'm just now getting sleepy.
Today was a logistics day. My pan was to head toward Laos, if possible. let's just say I'm slightly closer to Laos but may change plans. My western thinking was that train is faster than but ans that i could either get a sleeper car if necessary or just tough it out if necessary. Besides, I don't have a shoulder to sleep on if I take the bus. Let's just make this simple. Train is not faster than a bus. However, the buses are notorious for adding imagined fees at critical points during your trip, or so I hear.

I met a 23 year old guy, Tim, from Germany who speaks English with a slight British accent. He's been traveling S.E.A. for "5 month" now and flies home or somewhere tomorrow (or so he says. Don't you love how trusting I am?) Anyway, he did have some good tips and as neither the train nor the bus I wanted-all the way to Laos-was leaving anytime soon, I hoped a train at least getting me out of Bangkok. Note to anyone traveling this way: Get out of Bangkok as soon as possible! That place is a mess in every way imaginable.

Tim got on the train as well. Most guest houses (something akin to a hostel but usually you have your own room, and unless you got 4-5 star full blown hotel, it's what you'll find here) "cheap rooms" were full except the one Tim had rated as a "5 cockroach" hotels opposed to the 2 cockroach guest house I'd asked him to show me too. It's nice enough, but after taking the train for 3.5 hours (supposed to be 1.5 hrs, and it left 1.5 hours late) and seeing how many of the Thai people live, I feel pretty good about it. Hmmm...perspective. Funny how it changes.

The train ride here was actually quite pleasant due to the 2 wonderful women and a 12 year girl (one of the women's daughter), who immediately skootched over and invited me to sit with them, despite all my cumbersome luggage. As I've run into at nearly every turn, Thailand deserves it's time of "Land of a Thousand Smiles". I've been here less than 24 hours and I've already seen at least that many.

The beautiful 12 year old girl starting sharing the love with this:

Yep, seaweed-flavored pringles.

Now most of you know, I don't do seafood, or seaweed, of ANY kind. The smell alone gets to me in a big way. I simply don't do edible sea anything (no, not even fresh water fish...no fishy fishy.) But...when in Rome...or in this case, when a 12 year old Thai girl offers you a chance to try something new and make a new friend, suck it up and accept the adventure. I smiled through choking it down as they continued to help me learn my numbers in Thai. (Tim started this, they, and several others around us joined it :).) The next opportunity for "adventure" reared it's ugly head when the woman next to me offered me some of her chicken. Or was it fish? We couldn't seem to get the translation quite right. I thought I did o.k. smiling through this one too, but apparently not evidenced both by Tim (who also doesn't do seafood) mercifully eating the other have of my bite and secondly by the sweet smile of the fish-offering woman handing some Dentyne.

I'm glad she did. I shared this with Tim as well. I'm such a giver ;). Guess my face still is pretty telling. Oh well, we all had a warm-hearted laugh at my expense. I, in turn, shared the love with my honey graham gold fish.

Off the train tot he aforementioned, "cheap room" guesthouse. Part of me is glad to know of such heap rooms, 150 baht (about $4.50), instead of the $10-20 ones I had mostly heard of and intended on staying at but the snob in me thinks I'll splurge sometimes for ease (you gotta know where these places are already, methinks), safety and amenities. Amenities such as my own bathroom to shower and do laundry in as well as a little bit more privacy and of course a western-style toilet.

You guessed it. Tonight I ran into my first one of these:

Growing up a girl in the sticks and camping, I've got the squatting posture down pretty good as far how to keep it clean goes. That doesn't mean it's what I would choose. And fortunately, I knew to bring my own toilet paper. It wasn't too bad but I still prefer the sit down option.

Good night for now.. I really hope the bed bugs don't bite. Cause it's a huge possibility.

Oh quick pic of my first meal in Thailand.

It's Yum Tom (aka "spicy soup", although I found it quite tasty, it wasn't very spicy). Full of delicious fresh basil and other Thai spice magic. I wasn't quite ready to try the street hawker stuff despite my fortuitous, generally cast iron stomach.

For dinner I did have pad Thai (a noodle dish) from a street hawker in Ayuthaya (the city I fled from Bangkok to by train) and it was quite tasty as well. Yum yum yum.

So Far So Good

2010-11-08T19:15:00.000-08:00

I had an uneventful flight over here, surrounded by rare extra space, smooth transitions, brief layovers and cool peopleto chat with, or not. Looking out the window we saw the Aluesian islands of Alaska which is where the word bleak was invented. It looked like a very cold moon with all its grey craters and mountians.

We saw full circle rainbows outside our windows (by we, I mean myslef and occassionally the cool people around me). If you stare at the picture long enough you'll see the rainbow.

Almost exactly thirty hours later (nothing compared to the fifty plus hours my mom and I spent getting home from Greece), I am nestled in my simple, but clean hotel just away from the airport in Bangkok, Thailand. So far, so good.

The people are wonderfully friendly and helpful, although I have a difficult time with the accent. I'm just glad they, and I, speak English. Give me a few days and hopefully I'll get used toit....and then I'll switch countries. :)

I love the moist air and warmth. Of course it's the middle ofthe night, so the 80 degrees is great and not overwhelming.

I'm all freshend up with clean teeth, airborne and benadryl and...

...I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings!

I really really really want to go!

2010-10-25T14:44:00.000-07:00

I have the opportunity to go to Thailand, well Asia. I applied for a study abroad program through the University of Utah. The program doesn’t start until mid-December and I have no where to be until then. (I literally don’t have anywhere to just be. A physical place to exist in, I have not. I quit my job to go home to see my Dad after a serious hospitalization-everything looks ok now-and to save my soul. It was one of those working environments.) So essentially I have 7 weeks before I have to be in Thailand for the study abroad. What to do until then? WELL.

:) Well, I have a sister in China right now teaching English and how cool would it be to fly to China and work my way over to Thailand from there? Pretty darn cool my friends.

Anyway, that’s my idea. I run into these problems though: I’m American. Blonde. Female. Traveling alone. And drop dead gorgeous. Life just is not fair.

There are probably a few people that I could call and might be able to travel with me but this is something I really want to do on my own.

I’ve lost a lot of myself in the last year or so. The bay area is rough. The people are hurtful and have left some scars; some that I feel have impacted me more than I would have liked and made me ugly.

I’ve never been an uber-motivated person but I do ok. Anything that I have been able to do has been of my own accord even if it did take more work for my to muster the commitment more than it does for most. I need to go back there. I need to get to a place where I am my own captain and rough seas (or people) will not sway my connection with God and my confidence in myself. I’m embarrassed that for as close as I felt to my Heavenly Father I was so, comparatively, easily swayed and brought down. Disparaging myself-and worse, others- along the way. When I should have been building us all up, I all but joined the sad and non-progressive attitude of the area.

At one point to squelch the disconnect I felt there, and knowing how close a connection my happiness and spirit have to both progressive goals and fitness, I did my best and tried to train for a marathon. It did help but I didn’t fight hard enough, getting up to 15.5 miles (hill training even!) and when my body gave up on one run, so did I, feeling the heavy weight of bay area general increase of gravity on ones gumption.

I do not blame the people. I blame myself for not rising above it and living in ways that I know bring happiness. Suffice it to say I am painfully lazy, listless, and have the untrue notion that nothing matters and regardless of the effort I put in today will eventually be swallowed up in my inability to maintain positive change.

That being said, I would love to go to Asia. I know travel doesn’t solve problems but it does, I believe make one a better person and make one look introspectively. I’ve felt it before and it feels good. It’s like it’s okay to be who I choose and I have to because there are so many outside factors to choose against. I could really use the time to commune with myself, make conscious decisions of how I will behave and how I will treat others. It will also give me time to improve upon my physical health (which as I stated before has a major effect on my spiritual well-being). I hope to do a lot of land travel. I’m not sure how much will be possible just yet, but that would be ideal.

I’ve been told I don’t give myself enough credit and I know I should be proud of my 15.5 miles (which I was, well am) but what good does having done it once do for my body and soul now? if I don’t keep it up? If I give up when things get tough? That’s never been my style and I fear I may have adopted a little bit of the bay area passive approach to life; waiting for things to happen to me and being pushed around by whatever blows my way or creates resistance. I think I’ll go back to plowing my own way, thank you very much. I was much happier welcoming the bumps in the road as something to look back on as another mountain climbed.

More to come...well probably not, but I’m going to post this before I delete it entirely. :)

Lately...

2010-10-25T14:43:00.000-07:00

I don’t blog much. In fact, I hate writing. I’m more of a speaker, despite my best efforts to keep my mouth shut.This is merely my attempt to be a little more than completely anti-productive.

This year has been a doosey. (And by year I mean 12 months, not specifically a calendar year).

I spent the last year and a half in the bay area of California. A beautiful, beautiful place, with not so beautiful people. I know everywhere has it’s problem people but it just seemed that nearly all the people there hated everyone. Without going into details I can say that it was enough to leave some significant scars and making me feel like a hateful, callous hermit. And any place that’s mean enough to hermitize me is pretty ugly as, once again, despite my best efforts, I’m a social girl. I like to be around people. I like new experiences and new places, and most of all a good laugh at all our awkward attempts at being human.

I miss having good friends. A lot. I’ve done a fair amount of traveling and feel like, although maybe I wasn’t a perfect fit, I have “never been known to not be able to slide right in and make friends”-as noted by a So Cal friend. I miss having good friends close. And although I can see the link between the bay area and my now overly cautious and callous nature, my attitude is my own and I blame no one. And if I’m being honest, I am now too fearful, cautious and untrusting to be comfortable with my ability to make friends and fit in anywhere, which worries me because I know how important good friends can be. “Friends are the family we choose.” I simply don’t know how to make friends anymore because you have to trust friends.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone I loved so much close to me. I miss all the crazy laughter and have not experienced someone’s quirks being endearing rather than obnoxious for quite some time because of the score-keeping and backstabbing I’ve witnessed I’m more than a little guarded and perhaps even a little paranoid. (This is why Kelli and I need to live next door to each other and have one giant back yard :). That and so she can raise my kids because she’s an unbelievably fantastic mom.)

I’m worried about finances. (warning:::: I’m about to sound like an ungrateful snob::::). Times are tight right now. For everyone. Except they weren’t for me. I was a making good money doing a job I loved (with co-workers I didn’t). Suffice it to say, I was financially secure and making some really good headway in life and the savings department. I was able to do things and travel places I often thought not possible. And now I’ve quit. And think I may be going back to school. Paying out of state tuition. For a degree that won’t pay any more than I’m already making. Oh, and there’s no work in Salt Lake (where I would go to school) and even if there was, I’d be making half what is fair (and literally half of what I was getting paid). And I don’t necessarily want to change careers. I just want to know stuff. I’m such an idiot.

I don’t want to be, yet again, worried about money. Well, to be more honest, I don’t want to give up the ability I had to travel and take a break when needed. I feel like I was in survival mode for so long (having worked full time since I was 16 all through high school and even through out nursing school). I’m afraid to go back to survival mode. And I really really don’t want to. I neglected a lot of important things in that mode. Things I’m still playing catch up with-like my health. If I go back to school it will most likely either put me deep into debt or significantly cut down on the amount of places and experiences I could have. No money may not buy happiness, but it certainly provides opportunity for experience, and significantly lessens the stress in life.

I just wish I knew if these are okay decisions. One that wouldn’t cause major damage for several years to come, or freak me out for years to come.

The Golden Streets of Athens

2010-05-10T21:59:00.000-07:00

After a very long flight, and still not having the travel intenerary finalized, (travel agent didn't get back to us in time), we arrived in Athens, Greece. Athens, GREECE! GREECE, I'm in Greece! And it is beautiful.
Remembering one of the hotels from the travel iteneray we were supposed to have, we caught a cab and traveled to the Athens Gate Hotel. It's a 4 star hotel 500 meters from everything, including....the Acropolis :). It is definately my aesthetic, too, as the description listed in the elevator says something akin to, "a modern hotel with a minimalist approach". Ah, perfect. It, too, is beautiful.

I spent last night wandering the golden streets of Athens alone while my mom showered and napped. I initially started out just looking for internet at the hotel to try to get ahold of the failed travel agent but a sense of safety and freedom took over and I found myself contentedly and calmly exploring this ancient city.

I feel safe and happy as I wander. The streets reflect the sunset, at least near the Plaka and Acropolis where I'm walking, in such a manner they glow gold, or bronze maybe. People appear as if they are walking on avenues of light. Literally, look like they are walking on light! Children are playing soccer. Happy, (I'm assuming stray) dogs harmlessly work their way in and out of the sparce crowd, and sleep on the steps leading up to the Acroplois, which I just happened upon. Always nice when one's adventures lead them to right where they want to be, isn't it?

The few tourists out walk hand in hand, but it is the Greeks who are openly affectionate towards one another. I notice one couple, working in a shop together, nuzzling and watching the crowd as they take their time closing up. The weather is perfect with that perfect summer breeze the seems to intice the spirit to let go of anything holding it back. Everyone is calm and happy. Everyone, including me.

Blog Borrower/Music Lover

2010-03-09T21:40:00.000-08:00

So because I have such cool friends with such cool ideas I'm going to continue to borrow from their blogs to pretend like I'm updating mine. Aside from the last post promising you something new and created by me (borrowed from Kelli's blog), this is another borrowed idea and chance to get something fun in the mail. And so I give to you from the blog of one, Miss Marcey Moreno, (you gotta get to know this girl-says it like it is with sarcasm and charm. Usually an awkward duo but not with Marcey's refreshingly honest finesse), the music exchange!

The Rules as posted by Marcey on Marceyinseattle.blogspot.com:

Step 1: make a CD filled to the brim with all sorts of musical goodness. (be sure to include a song list of some kind, no need to over do it, a simple piece of paper will work just fine but feel free to go all out too.)
Step 2: wait with bated breath by the mailbox for my return package, in it you will find a CD with all sorts of songs I’m listening to at the moment and or songs that remind me of you for whatever reason
Step 3: enjoy It’s fairly simple, I mean a trained monkey with a CD burner could do it folks. If you want to make it really fun we can select a theme, those are fun too.

A little from me:

Anyone who's ever spoken to me or listened to me try to explain myself, in any circumstance, has probably heard song lyrics spew out of my mouth. I LOVE music; completely. Especially blues/old jazz stuff. It articulates (sometimes with lyrics, sometimes with melody, sometimes with well placed silence) things I am unable or unwilling to say on my own. I get wholey lost in it and have had it pointed out to me that I wiggle (my version of dancing) even when I am not consciously aware of music being played. So I apologize, but have no intention of changing, to anyone who has spent any time with me in a car, spent a melancholy evening with me, or been around me and wanted focus and attention when music was playing. And I always look forward to eye-opening, life-changing music.

A Modern Day In Ancient Rome (a.k.a. awesomeness)

2010-03-09T14:38:00.000-08:00

(way late and never completed, but counting it as an update even though it's out of order and incomplete)

We wake up some time between 7-8 and immediately open our window to the view of the sea. We begin casually getting ready for the day, enjoying the muffled, quiet morning sounds of the seaside wake up around us. We get just cute enough for the pictures, grab our backpacks and head out. We grabbed some chocolate-filled croissants at a little bakery near the bus stop. WHOA! That is one fresh and tasty croissant! I am not usually a huge pastery person but had to try one per the Italian brothers' (from the planes) insistant. Man oh man am I glad they committed me to that one! Y. U. M. M. M. M. M. So tastey I couldn't even think what I was supposed to do to the machine that pulled up at the bus station....oh yeah, get on.

Bus ride to the train station. Train to ROMA! We take the train to the end of the track: The Pyramid station. Yep. There's a giant, ancient pyramid right there when we get off in the heart of a bustling modern city...with tiny cars. Hee. The contrast of now and then is an unusual mixture that is hard to wrap your head around (never really did understand that expression, but it gets my point across). It's like my mind keeps trying to make tangible the connection, or maybe moreso the separation of the vastly not so different eras. Either way, it's awe-inspiring and cool.

We start walking toward the Collesseum with the help of Christy's slight broken, yet efficient Italian and some helpful locals. However, we get so caught up in every "little" (yeah, right.) ancient building (door) along the way. Christy and I both apparently have a love of beautifully and textured doors-a passion that perhaps I never would have been aware of had I not gone to Italy. Anway, I like cool doors.

We find ourselves first reaching The Forum. That's THE Forum. We walk along an outside gate looking for an entrance. We start to get a little further from the Collesseum so decide to just role with it and see THE Forum first. We end up taking the long way around. I dig it. We got to see more of it and experience it's vastness. We hiked up a long but not too steep hill on the far (uh, far being the side furtherst from the Collesseum. I don't know if it's east or west or what.) On our climb up this hill we meet a very Italian, very kind, old gentleman, who is thrilled to share his love of his proud city with us. He expressions largely and openly as he tells us how grand Rome is. (From what I gather) He starts talking about food, then gets all excited and tells us where we should eat. AWESOME. I love getting the dish from locals about where the real food is. He lovingly draws us a map, smiles with a little bit of an honest boast and wishes us the best in our travels. I don't know if he actually whistled as he walked away or if his personality just whistles in my imagination. Either way, he has a welcoming spirit and good heart.

The largest portion of this day can probably best been experienced through pictures. So here they are.

After some great sight-seeing and good company (Christy and I travel well together), we decided to go to lunch at the place whistling spirit man had directed us too. The food was good. Just good. The company...heh heh heh...was cute. There was an adorable, big-eared little boy sitting behind us and to my right. Being a picture person I was trying to shyly snap a few shots of him while waiting for our lunch. (None of them came out great as I was trying not to use my flash.) Christy has a sweet camera and was taken with the little guy as well. She turned to take snap her picture and obtained quite the crusty look from mamma bear for taking the picture. Oops. We both felt pretty badly. Oh. And all the while sitting behind Christy, facing me, was a fairly, okay-looking guy with very pale, translucent eyes. It was difficult for he and I to avoid eye contact as we were exactly in each other's line of sight so we spent a lot of time looking and trying not to look at each other. You know how that goes-the whole, I swear I'm not staring even thought I'm staring thing. Anyway, truth is I was staring a little bit. They were crazy. Pretending to be taking pictures of the little boy and the vast array of wines behind him I snuck a few of him in as well.

He finally finished his lunch and was gathering his things to leave. (I was kind of glad to have him out of my direct sight as that whole game gets a little awkward after a while.) I sharing just this thought with Christy when he suddenly appears next to Christy. While I was busy trying to see him he had grabbed a chair from the next table and decided to join us. "Do I at least get to see the picture you have taken of me?" Crap. He said it absolutely no inflection and if anything seemed a little genuinely annoyed. After the death glare from mamma bear I felt horrible and didn't know how to respond. Again no flash not great pics...and certainly not justifying of the color of his eyes, which he himself discribed as being "clear". And yeah, they kinda were. But because the picture weren't good I had deleted many of them and lamely replied to him that I think might have deleted them. I found left on my camera and embarassed him with it. He was extremely camera shy, yet very photogenic (great lines and coloring). I dont' think he could get a read on us just as we couldn't get a read on him so it took a few moments for us to relax together.

His name was Adriano. He was originally from Rome but currently resides in Florence. He is shy, embarrassed and a little awkward in his conversation with us. I don't think he is used to getting so much attention from blonde foreigners, but was trying to seize the moment I suppose. He complimented us on our eyes as well. (p.s. Christy and I do not have the same color of eyes. Both blue yes, but not the same color. However, in every single picture of us our eyes appear to be precisely the same shade of blue. Hmm. Weird.) Blue may be rare in Rome but it's not nearly as rare as Adriano's color. Anyway, he too, became excited about telling us what to see and what do-what's great that tourists miss (sadly, with only one day in Rome we're kinda insisting on the biggie's...at this in this city, and won't have time to see all this favorite places). After several minutes of conversation he bid us farewell. Christy and I sat and digested for a while before heading back out.

As we exited the restuarant Adriano zooms by and honks at us. Wait. He's pulled over and is gesturing us to come. We head out to his car where he hands over a bottle of wine, one of his favorites that he had gone out and bought for us. With the instructions to, "keep it cold and drink it slowly" we, being flattered (trying to contain our excitement), accept the gift and once again part ways. Okay, that's like the most perfect souvenier ever. A bottle of Italian wine, from an Italian man, who you met at lunch in Rome, at a place another Italian man told you to visit. It doesn't get any better than that. And my favorite part is that you can't plan things like that.

We head back toward the city center (just a few blocks away) and almost get hit by an ambulance in our exubarant delight. We end up on the other side of the street in a park area. As we are reliving the moment we are thoroughly chewed out by an Italian woman who thinks we are not respecting "her country" by ignoring ambulances. Look lady. It had nothing to do with it being an Italian ambulance. We would have gotten nearly killed by any make, model, or nationality of vehicle at that point. We get it. We're stupid tourists. Move on. Like we don't know we almost got killed. Anyway, don't get hit by vehicles in foreign countries, even if you're excited and having a great time. Just look both ways before crossing the street, okay kids.

As we amble through the park we begin to get a bit sleepy. We find a nice place at the edge of the park, slightly elevated about ground level of the street below with a perfect view of the Collesseum and nestled down on the lawn at which point Christy says one of my favorite quotes from the trip. "I'm glad we're old enough to admit we need naps." I smile and dose off. This and other similarities in our travel styles is why I think the trip went so well and why we are planning another one from around the same time next year.

We did more site-seeing.

Spanish Steps, proposal-busking, no eating.

Trevi Fountain

Plaza of the People

Communal Nap

Dinner

Home

2009-11-15T22:32:00.000-08:00

Why Nurses Deserve More Vacation Time

2009-11-10T23:39:00.001-08:00

"I found my scab that fell of a few days ago on the couch. I saved it for you. Do you want me to bring it in?"

"I just took some viagra. You better watch yourself."

"I'm only coming to get my shots if you're here."

PT:"I want three separate prescriptions for the same drug."
RN: "For the same med?
PT: "Yes."
RN:"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. It makes absolutely no sense. How many and what drugs did you take this morning?" (so maybe that's what was said...aloud)
RN: (for real) "Why do you need three copies of the same perscription. This is for the exact same med, right."
PT:"Three?! I don't need three. I already have one. I only need two more."
RN: "For the same med?"
PT: "YES! I'm trying to choose between three different pharmacies and that way I will have a prescription for each one."
RN"I see. Is there any way that you could call the pharmacies, see which one is least expensive and take the prescription you already have to the one you decide on?"
PT:"Well, I suppose I could but that's going to take a lot of time and looking things up and stuff."
RN:"Aren't you going to call them to see which one is least expensive before you take the prescription into any of them anyway?"
PT:"Yes, but this way I'll have a prescription for each one so that when I decide I'll have the prescription already."
RN: ......*slamming head on desk*.....repeatedly.

WHY WE PUT UP WITH IT ALL:

"Thank you-
For always having a smile for us
For always being positive
Fo always being encouraging-

"We know we are here for another couple of years but wanted to acknowlegde all you do and have done-
"Thank you for agreeing that:
"'Bold is beautiful, Powerful
and we can wear it with PRIDE!'"

"We hope that maybe this photo [photo was of pt and spouse at a formal event, bald and beautiful with a huge smile, with magnets on the back to put up in the office] encourage someone else that is going bald that
"Yes we can!
"All our thanks,
-name with held"

Validation

2009-11-07T23:01:00.000-08:00

I remember reading somewhere once (excuse the lack of reference) that one should, "never mistake stupidity for malice".

This is true. With a few exceptions, most people may do hurtful things or cause you grief but chances are it was more out stupidy than just outright malice. I admit, some people are just nasty and do unexplainable things just to be mean (I work with one of them). But for the most part I don't think the mean things people do are not intended to hurt. In fact i think they hardly notice the hurtee at all. It's a lapse in thought and concern for others.... a.k.a. stupidness.

I am one who has been let down frequently in life. Perhaps, by much of my own doing. I expect too much and expect people to follow through on their actions or at least own whatever it is. I guess I just expect carma to have a much faster turn around time that it seems too. (Although, in many cases I am extrememly happy to report that I don't always get what I probably deserve-take that however you'd like, it's true both ways :).)

This next thought has come up a few times in life recently. One of those things you always agree with but never take to write it down or fully finish the thought aloud, so here goes: Most things can be fixed if one will simply "own it". As evidenced in one of my all time FAV-OR-ITE movies, P.S. I Love You. Selfishness and thoughtlessness is immediately forgiven when a woman's best friend, who was supposed to be the maid of honor, but has been MIA, is told how selfish she was and how she couldn't handle not being the center of attention. When said supposed-to-be maid of honor looks sheepishly at the bride-to-be and admits, "You're right. I'm sorry." Sobs, acceptance, forgiveness...yada, yada, yada...and scene. Think of it also in the basics of repentance. The whole process starts with, "I did it" or "I didn't do it." Whether to a best friend, a stranger on the street, or God himself, it all starts with owning it. Anyway, that's a thought that went in a different direction than I thought it would, so as in many blog entries, and not just my own....I digress.

...I've always had this obnoxious chipper side and "cynical optomitic", but optomistic, nonetheless, outlook on life. I must admit now that it has been severely tarnished as of late. But underneath it all a ray a light still lurks. I think one of the reasons the rust hurts so much is that I know the truth. I know that a kind word turneth away wrath, the truth will set me free, and that character will always bring one more power and strength than any man-made replacement. The sting comes when I fail to live my life in align with these truths. It stings. And every time I fail, I lose faith in myself and my ability to do so. They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Some times I feel like I've paved a 8 lane freeway! So I hope by posting this little link a chink will be made in our oxidized armour, that a trickle of that light will shine though and chip off someone else's crusty outter layer.

Digressing...........................................................
and we're back.

Dispite my whining and my past, present, and future pains, I have undoubtly lived, a comparably, charmed life. My point is this: most people who hurt us don't do it on purpose, they're just being stupid and we get caught in the crossfire. They are human, so are we. And I'd like to think of us as just stupid sometimes than horribly malicious despite recent news reports of ugliness. These are out there but hopefully, the grossly extreme, and not the norm. For the most part we're all just bumbling along doing our best, even if our best sucks.

This whole thing started off as an opportunity to post this, which I found on a friend's blog:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao

I just thought I should write a little something to go along with it and the above spew came out. (I've found it best that if my blog is ever to be updated to not edit or think about what I'm writing. If I do it never gets updated or posted. Oh, you've noticed? Specifically Dad :) who's been asking for an update. I'm really good at this tangent thing, no?)

We all need validated, especially the crustiest of us all. We all feel that we have the world on our shoulders, which I guess, in a way, we all kinda do have our own entire world on our shoulders. I believe that the weight of that world becomes much less recognizable when we stand up straight enough to look out of our universe and recognize the work and effort that goes into another's world. Not to mention his/her ability to hold it up. Now just to stop paving and start skipping, progressly down the path that goes in the opposite direction from where that freeway was headed.

Before I stay up too much later or before the tangent monster explodes again I summize in the concise and profound words from two of the most memorable men of our age:"Be Excellent To Each Other" -Bill S. Preston, Esquire and Ted "Theodore" Logan

"Don't Mention It. And They Mean It" C.S. Lewis

2009-07-26T22:18:00.001-07:00

Not that I'm not a generally happy person, cause I believe that I am. And not that I am by any means unhappy now, but you know those kind of hugs where you are completely on the receiving end? The kind where you can completely collapse inside the arms of someone who, just for a moment, does all the thinking, all the loving, all the giving and your only job is to be entirely vulnerable and exposed and weak because the one other side of the hug, the giver, judges nothing and says nothing. And they don't try to make it better, they just make it safe it be whatever it is that you genuinely are at the heart of things in that weak moment. There is no judging, only understanding and strength you can trust in to let your weary heart and body rest on for that break in time. A hug that is never mentioned once it is over, and ideally forgotten by the giver, but has meant everything to the restored receiver. You know those kinds of hugs? Yeah, I could use one of those.

Cancer Sucks

2009-06-14T15:51:00.000-07:00

A few quick updates.

Last (uh, two Fridays ago, I guess) Friday my mom was officially diagnosed with breast cancer. We're still awaiting details and staging. It sucks. Anyway, I kept it pretty quiet for a while. I told my room mate and one friend, Christy (Italy Christy). In her genuine and real way Christy gave condolences and asked if I wanted a distraction. Sure. Low key and simple, to stick it to the universe and all it's stupid, petty rules of mortality.

We headed to the movie theater to see Disney Pixar's "UP". I thought I it would be a safe. You know, light fluffy and no need to get all emotionally involved. Uh, great movie, not so safe :). Christy had seen it before but we both leaked a little something from our lacrimal glands. Whatev.

After the movie, to stick it to the man (the man in this case being cancer and all people every where who take themselves and life and it's silly rules too seriously) in behalf of my mother I did something. Something I don't think is right, I don't necessarily agree with but that just had to be done.

I movie hopped. That's right world. TAKE THAT! THAT'S FOR MY MAMA! We played secret agent Hard Core and snuck around corners covering each other and then waving the other past. I think there was a slow summersalt (sp) thrown in there some where as well. And he watched Star Trek. That night and the references ("I can fix that!") from those movies have entertwined to become a reminder to laugh and live it up. And we do laugh. Mostly about dead squirrels.

My mom is, of course, a trooper. I ache for her and this situation. Her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer around the same age and it presented in a very similar manner. The good news is and hopefully will follow suit, is that my grandmother only underwent one round of treatment: just radiation I think.

I hate that this happening but I don't worry about my mom. I love her and don't feel a need to protect her. Although, I will any way I can if she ever does need/want it. But she is strong and she is smart. I don't think she needs or would want to be babied. Spoiled, perhaps. Babied, definately not. Not this mama. I know she will get through this wisely and with both feet on the ground and doesn't need my pity or walking on eggshells. I trust her to do what she needs to do deal with this in a way that will work for her. I hope she's able to allow herself to hurt and be pissed when she needs to, though too. (Sometimes I think she forgets it's okay to feel, espeically if it's about herself. Go ahead, Mom: kick, cry, scream if you need to. Ask for and accept the hugs you need and feel free to decline the ones you don't want. I know I did all of the above. But then again, you don't need any advice from me.)

On a side note, I have always been interested directing my career toward cancer care and have worked on pediatric cancer floors some. For the parents of all the kids who brought their kids to the E.D. with a sore throat and were freaking out all we could think, after working with the cancer kids (or otherwise seriously ill, injured children) was, "Sheesh, it's not cancer." Now I can't say that to my patients, or my mother, because it is.

The week before all this went down I accepted a permanant position at a cancer clinic in Concord, Ca. That's right no more travel nursing for me, not for a year or two at least. I didn't know what to do after I finished my last assignment here in the bay area. I had made quite the list of things I wanted in a job if I were to accept a permanant postion and someone upstairs was listening-and I'm sure laughing at my attempts to be pushy when had a very merciful and lovely plan just waiting for me to follow through. I very much enjoy my new job and the people I work with, staff and patients alike. I love that it gives me the chance to geek out and goof off.
I geek out on all the science and information I'm learning and goof off with the great population I work with.

I also now have access to all the information I could ever need and I think being able to learn and study cancer in general and breast cancer specifically (Heavely Father is awesome in his blessing but sometime's has a strange sense of humor/timing) helps me to deal with this.

Many of the people that come in I very much worry about and their ability to deal with/get through something like this. But I trust my mother very much. She is stronger than any one person I think I know and I think she'll appropriatley and rationally (rationally meaning remembering to add just enough unorthodox and irrationality for balace-my mom's great at this) get herself through this and inspire the rest of us along the way.

But it still sucks.

Love you, Mom. No one knows better what you need or what will help, even if it's not helping, than you. Just let me know what it is that you'd like and I've totally got your back. Now and always. Through this and everything.

An Evening in Ostia

2009-04-29T15:25:00.000-07:00

This airport stinks and now that I've got my partner in crime let's get outta here. With Christy's bits of Italian we find the right bus and head towards of hostel outside the city in a town called Ostia.

On the bus ride we giggle sleepily with the realization and thrill that we are, in fact, in Italy. I believe at one point the overwhelming excitement and exhaustion causehe non-sequitor gasp of, "We're in Italy! Look there's corn!" to escape from Christy's mouth. Yes we were in Italy and yes indeed there was corn; it became a war-cry of excitement and approval for the rest of the trip, "hee hee hee. We're in Italy!" "Yep! Look there's corn." (Insert sleep deprivation level of humor here.)

At some point in this blur of the sandman's spell and excitement for the adventure that lay ahead we changed buses. The flavor of Italy was all around us and the soundtrack was....was...

was Eminem??? A few young guys on the bus were rockin' out to Eminem. We tried to capture this contrast: the Italian men and women on the bus, the architecture, the graffiti, the tiny cars, and the misplaced soundtrack on video but as soon as the camera came out one of the young men leaned in, put his arm around and me posed with a big smile for the camera. We had no choice but to capture this to on film (or memory card...whatever). As we were exiting and trying to conceal our smiles, the young man shouts after us with what seemed to be a very thought-throw and enthusiastic "bye" in his adorable Italian accent.

And just a side note here: Italian men LOVE Christy. I think our first few hours in Italy she was given 3 phone numbers. We had men stop dead in their tracks and chase after us just for a chance to speak with her. (Many didn't speak English but certainly kept trying in order to get to know this mysterious beauty from the west.) I got absolutely no attention whatsoever. I know many of you think I'm lying-but ask Christy, she'll confirm. I was invisible in the shadow of her her Italian tractor beam. Many of them looked at me only long enough to let me know they wished I was gone. Most didn't even bother with that.

We arrive at the Litus Hostel in Ostia, Italy and check in to our room. We spent a few extra $ and got a private room. This place is Posh. At least for a hostel and compared to many discount hotels. There are large, french doors I'd guess you'd call them (hee hee french doors in itally. hee hee hee), with huge shudders that open up and look right out on the coastline of the Mediterranean Sea. Oh yeah. This is gonna work out juuuuuuuuust fine.

We decide to grab some grub (if you can even call such heavenly bliss such a thing). We head out along the beach and look for a restaurant but are delayed and distracted by what I shall forever consider in my heart and mind, "the colors of Italy". I'm literally talking about colors. They're unbelievable! Everything is saturated in shades and depth we can't even imagine here. The blues! The purple-blues! The oranges! The so many different shades of seemingly white, whites! So thick in pigment and rich vividity (vividness?)! I'm sure a new and previously unused portion of my brain needed to be accessed to experience those colors!

After a photographing session of the city and sea we decide on a restaurant and get our socks rocked. I was seated so that I was looking at the piano player (SCORE! Live music), who hammed it up and winked us whenever we caught his eye, and the sea. Christy was facing the entrance of the restaurant and snickered several times informing me that all of the male wait staff were hovering near a doorway and watching us (well, her). I quite enjoyed my view though, too.

A picture of us, both very tired, giddy, and ready to eat, if we don't fall asleep before the food arrives.

When dinner arrived we were both literally blown away by our dishes. I still dream of mine and have been in search of yellow saffron ever since. She had some delicious something with like vodka-type sauce I think...I don't remember...it was good....but I was too completely enamoured with my lemon-saffron linguini to focus on hers (which she seemed to be enjoying equally as much as I). Changed my life that pasta did. CHANGED MY LIFE. (Again previously unaccessed portion of the taste section in my brain. MMmmmmmmmmmmmmm!) Photos depict actual reactions to the first bite.

On our way home, Christy picks up another phone number as we walk back to the hostel. I'm pretty tired at this point but in good spirits. When we reach the hostel they inform us that they are playing Gladiator in the theater room. MAN! I've never seen it and what a perfect setting to see it in. However, I decide it's more important to be awake for Rome than to watch a movie.

Yet another guy who stopped us (by us, I mean Christy) and insisted on making sure Christy had his number.

And we head to bed. I'm out.

I Went to Rome Today

2009-04-28T17:35:00.000-07:00

So, my friend Christy Warnick (link to her blog with better pics and details of the trip cwarnickrun.blogspot.com), who insidentally is the first person I really met when I first moved to the bay area in January.
(I met her at church and she was more than willing to tell me where all the best hiking and running trails were. In fact, we jumped in her jeep after church and she took me to all of them-what a cool girl! I also found out that she used to work on cruise ships with the twin sister of a guy I was dating [in Texas] at the time.) Some people are just supposed to meet I guess.

Anyway, so my friend Christy Warnick went to the UK for vacation. The whole thing had been planned months in advance. She gets to Scotland and the girl who is supposed to travel with her bails. She's jet-lagged and can't sleep; it's some ridiculous hour in the morning there. It's like 9 or 10pm here. We chat for a few minutes on facebook and she tells me her predicament. My response is, "you want me to come meet you some where?" Her response, "You know if most people were to say that I wouldn't think much about it but with you, I know you're serious. I've never been to Rome and always wanted to go."
Great! In all of Europe, Italy is the one place I've always wanted to go. 6am (her time) comes, sleep and travel frustrations build, she decides to get some sleep and will call me when she wakes up.

2:30 am: my phone wakes me up. It's a go. I find a beautifully cheap flight to Rome, book it, pack and fly out 4 hours later.

On the plane I met two brothers Mike and Walter, originally from Italy, now in Philadelphia (Mike owns a gift shop, the one right across from the liberty bell if you're ever in need of a Philly souvenier hook up), who are headed to Eastern Italy for a cousin's wedding and I'm invited. HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE?! To experience Italy via Italian wedding style! If only I could get ahold of Christy and if only we had more time. Alas, you can't win 'em all but still I'd really liked to have won this one....but turns out I wouldn't have traded the trip I ended up with either. The answer is simple. I just need to spend more time in Italy.

16 hours later I arrive in Italy, 8am local time. Christy's flight doesn't come in until 4pm and I am kaput! I've got time to kill and desparately need some sleep. I scour the airport for a crash pad. Apparently I'm really good at finding good places to sleep in airports cause at one point I was awoken by homeless man poking my side repeatedly. I was in his spot. At first I just grunted, turned and closed my eyes. I could take him and it was the only row of chairs in the airport that didn't have armrests between the seats, but the poking persisted. FINE. GRRRR.

At this point I realized it's probably better to move since many homeless people have underlying mental disorders (which noramlly don't bother me as I see them in a clinical setting and they feel more safe but can act out irrationally and unpredicatably when not in a "safe place" or feel threatened, not to mention the very slow processing of my brain as to what sorts of stuff I was most likely laying IN if this was his regular spot.

4pm comes, and goes, so does 5pm. Her flight finally arrives somewhere closer to 6pm. We see each other and just smirk with exhaustion, relief and mischief. We did it, as silly and possibly stupid as it was, we had planned that morning and met the next evening in Rome, Italy. And what a miraculously wonderful time it turned out to be.

2009-04-27T10:28:00.000-07:00

I think I'll go to Rome today.

I got nothin'

2009-04-17T11:58:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I completed the last shift of my assignment at Children's Hospital and Research Center of Oakland. I was pleasantly surprised by all of the hugs and well-wishes I received as well as the multiple requests to stay on/come back as a staff nurse. These included an invitation and inpromptu interview from a couple of managers on the Hem/Onc floor, which is my favorite population of people to work with.

Right now the world is wide open (aside from the offer from the Hem/Onc floor to come back-I wish they could have at least waited until Monday to request me to take a position there :o)-I have no immediate offers/plans, which I love). I have no job (but the peace of knowing one might be easily obtained with some effort and enough of a cushion that the immediate need for one is not pressing) and other than a pressing engagement with friends to go blues dancing tonight and a hike in the works for tomorrow, I. ... got. ...nothin'. ...

I take better care of myself when I have options. When I feel like I have nothing I have to do I absolutely accomplish more, make better decisions, and live a more productive life than when I have fewer options.

I started my morning today perfectly...woke up, said my prayers-thanked God for the day and the possibilities His world contains- read a novel while the sun was peaking through my blinds... When the sun had just barely finished showing it's full face I moved into the almost warm outside while I nibbled breakfast at the outdoor table and smelled the fresh cut grass, listening to birds. I then had a short phone conversation with a few details about the job here in Oakland and have spent the last little bit downloading Josh Ritter and Johnny Cash songs while occassionally chatting with good friends online.

All that being said, I'm allowing myself a few days of lazy thoughts (meaning no deep thinking and deciding-thoughts can come and go as they please, thus allowing me to ponder options if they so wander through, without me feeling the need to make them dwell or finish them out). I will enjoy these moments whole-heartly while they last- sincerely, naturally, taking better care of myself and making better decisions next few days without force or compulsion.

p.s. I'm still in my pajamas, complete with motorcycle slippers and a smile.

So...I went to Idaho

2009-03-16T21:52:00.001-07:00

So, I went to Idaho last weekend to be with my younger sister, Lois, while she was having her first baby (check her out at rldraper.blogspot.com). I figured since I'm at a place in my life where I have a little extra money, the time, and a career that makes it possible for me to get up and go at a moment's notice (not to mention an innate need to do so occassionally) I might as well go. I booked a flight and flew out six hours later. Meanwhile, I texted my buddy, Corinne in Sandy, UT, and insighted her with road trip fever. Moments like these are definatley ones I want to bethere for so I'll take advantage of the ability to participate in them while I can.

The labor was pathetically easy (as was the pregnancy as reported by Lois). A perfect epidural, given early and lasted long with two short hours of intermitent pushing, which she chatted all the way through in between contractions. She felt "a tiny bit of pressure in her back" that let her know she was having a contraction and to push. Aside from a brief scare of stress on the baby, she came out smoothly and purple. Fortunately, this was quickly remedied with the help of some great nurses followed by a few days of prophylactic antibiotics. Kenya Irene Draper was born 6.6, 20 inches long on March 7, 2009 and is a beautiful baby girl, who looks a LOT like her mommy. At least for now. She is now home safe and sound with very proud parents.

Now for the rest of the story...

...I flew into SLC, rented a car at the airport, picked up Corinne and drove to Rexburg, ID. The interesting part of this story, however, unfolds on the return trip.

We were leaving the hospital to head back to SLC the afternoon after Kenya was born. It was miserably cold and blustery so we ran as fast as we could to the rental car. I hit the FOB a million times on the way there to make sure it would be unlocked when we reached it. We tore open the doors and jumped in. Ugh! Squiiish. The seat was so far forward I smashed my knees against the steering wheel (I assume from pulling the lever to let the seat forward while retreiving my backpack on the way in). I had to get out into the freezing cold to try to adjust my seat. It put up a good fight and took me a decent amount of time to figure out how to move it back. I thought for sure I had adjusted it before but it wasn't how I remembered.

Crisis resolved. I now could fit in with enough room to start the car (read heater). I turned the key without so much as grunt.
Steering wheel locked? No.
Key in upside down? No.
Slam hands on dash-check.
Verbally abuse the car-check.
Still nothing.
Corinne: "uh, Amy..."
Me: "Yeah?"
Corinne: "Uh, I don't think this our car."

We both look around frantically to test this theory. No rear view mirror decor. No gum in the console. No lingering wrappers. No signs of life anywhere. Nothing that would identify this car as having an owner. But then...

Corinne: "this car has four doors, I think ours just had two."
Me: *confused*...

We jump out. Two parking spaces away, hidden behind a big SUV, is an identical car with only two doors. Oi! The owner must have just left the car unlocked (we were at the hospital in Rexburg, ID after all). After starting our car (read heater), I realized I'd just adjusted someone else's seat and moved it back signifantly (I know right, this part makes the story hard to believe, but it's all true). Now the question is do I get out and go put it back or not? I decide no. I'll stay put. What if the owner came while I'm in or crawling in or out of his/her car? He/she will just have a moment of confusion like I did and move on. No harm done.

Off to Arby's for a quick bite before ditching town. We order. Our order will take a few minutes, please pull forward and wait. Okay, pulling forward...KER-CHUNK! What the?!
I look out my window: Nothing. Corinne looks out her window: A giant foot-high curb that I have completely cleared on her side, high-centering the car. I still can't see it because on my side my wheel is on flat, smooth pavement. I jump out of the car (into the bitter, bitter, painful cold) and am immediately surrounded by two male Arby's workers both charmingly eager to help (and impress the ladies inside). "Don't worry. It happens all the time." (Okay then, don't you think someone should do something about that then?) They push. They push again. No go. A few minutes go by of trying to figure out what to do when a third chubby, young Arby's worker emerges. The other two seem to be in awe of him: "He's strong. Really strong. We can probably get it with is strength." Igh, whatever, it's worth a shot. Whoa! Go Herc! We're free! "Oh, and here's your order."

All right this is too funny, where's my phone! Where's my phone? Wait, where's my phone? Corinne starts to call my phone as I dig around. Dang it. Didn't find in time, try again. I'm dumping out my backpack in pursuit when...

Corinne: "Did you find this phone in you car?"
Yes, that's right. I left my phone in the stranger's car.
"How did the phone get in your car? Well, you see, it's really embarrassing...(...)
"...We're in the Arby's parking lot. Are you still at the hospital?"
Of course not.
"What's that? You live 45 miles out of town and you're on your way home? Oh."
Hmmm...
"Oh, you're not far out of town; you'll bring it to us?! Thank you so much!"
Not two minutes pass our four door twin rolls up. Now before I tell you who the owner of the car is, what would you think if a phone was planted in your car and started ringing as you drove down the highway?

Possibly, "we have your cat" or "your mission should you choose to accept it..."

But this little old lady-all smiles, who doesn't even own a cell phone and initially thought the ringing was on a radio commercial (hence no response on the first call), is cool as can be. She behaves as if nothing is out of the ordinary and doesn't seem phased at all as she wishes us a safe journey and drives off.

This is too funny, I've gotta call someone, where's my phone?
"Hi, Mom?... guess what?"

Pensar en ti

2009-03-16T21:33:00.000-07:00

Pensar en ti

No se si me recuerdes,

yo no pienso en nadie

mas que en ti.

Pensando en ti

he podido ayudarme a vivir.

Tu eres mi causa para seguir

en esta vida donde te conoci.

Cuando peinoso en ti,

mi alma empeza

a depender de ti.

Pensando en ti,

o recordandote

descubro cada amanecer,

solo hay algo mejor

que pensar en ti;

Estar contigo,

Ilegar al cielo ilusionado

y regresar enamorado

de tu amor,

pero no puedo vivir

estando solo asi

pensando en ti

by Absalom Marquez
(posted with permission by the author)

This was written by a cancer patient of mine in San Antonio, TX shortly after he found out that his cancer was back. I believe it was his final appointment before being considered in remission. Any help with translation would be great.

Really Bored

2009-02-28T16:46:00.000-08:00

Instructions: Google the phrase (including the quotes) "[your first name] needs" and write down the first 10 results... no editing!! :)

Amy needs and this came up and just to make things CLEAR im not going out with any1 called Peter!

Amy needs some helping drinking apparently

Amy needs to either wake up or start getting some extra will-power.

Amy needs help

Amy needs, needs to change some of its friends who surround it ...

Amy Needs A Wash.

amy needs her prince!! Come find me please!!

Amy needs to find a home where she can spend her golden years and be a cherished member of the family. ...

amy Needs A Break

Amy needs another cocktail before facing police.

amy needs to let ben go!!!!
(I know that last one makes 11 but it was just too funny to pass up and it really was #11. Some of you will get it.)

Okay, people. That was pretty funny. Let me know if you do this cause I wanna read yours, too.

My Dove Promise...describes me pretty well...

2009-02-27T21:14:00.000-08:00

Do not look back and ask why, look forward and ask why not!

From the Blog of Kings and Queen

2009-02-13T18:04:00.000-08:00

I found this on Kelli's blog who found it on someone else's. Let the cyber-circus begin!!

Here it is: The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you.
This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:
1. I make no guarantees that you will like what I make!
2. What I create will be just for you.
3. It'll be done this year. {might be a little while}
4. You have no clue what it's going to be (frankly, neither do I at this point) and you can not make requests. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!
5. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.
The catch?
Oh, yes, there is one of those. The catch is that you must repost this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same on your blog.
The first 5 people to do so and leave a comment telling me they did win a FAB-U-LOUS homemade gift by me!
* * *Oh, and be sure to post pictures of what you win when you get it and what you made for your winners!***

My Biggest Insecurity

2009-02-10T15:20:00.000-08:00

My biggest insecurity is that I have insecurities. You see, when people like you because you’re confident and secure the tiniest insecurity becomes a big deal because it’s very existence shatters the one thing about you that you could use as an argument against insecurities at a low point. As people, and friends, we tend to use someone’s strong points to counter their weak points when feeling down. However, when I’m feeling down and insecure my counter would be, “you’re never insecure or down”. You see my problem?

Truth be told I am relatively very secure and comfortable with myself. It’s when other people get involved that it gets sticky. Whereas, I don’t necessarily care or worry a whole ton about what others think or feel about me, knowing simply that not everyone is going to love me- or hate me for that matter. Some won’t bother to notice at all and that’s okay; I don’t mind. The grey area is knowing people will be let down when they realize I’m not everything, or a better way to say it, I’m not what, they hoped for. I’m just different from what a single person hoped/wanted. Example: one might find me too ambitious and lively whereas another may wish I was more so. Either way, I’ve come to know myself very well. I’m not so upset when people aren’t interested or lose interest (funny, how I talk like that’s ever happened, but in the interest of my theory, we’ll let it slide).

I am the very opposite of myself in nearly every aspect of my personality and actuality. For those of you who know me, feel free to add to the list of iconoclasts that make me so contradictory. Here’s a short list of things that I’ve come up with:

Outgoing and shy
Insensitive and easily touched
Ambitious and unmotivated
Confident and insecure
Logical and irrational
Active and lazy
Open and guarded
Don’t care what you think but need to hear it
Defensive but not easily offended
Argues for sport but hates conflict

So when your strengths are synonymous with your weaknesses it’s easy to disappoint. Akin to this problem is my confidence in my ability to become and do anything I want, knowing that if I don’t succeed it’s usually just a lack of effort. (Even if the effort required would be massive and difficult, it’s still just because I didn’t do more.)

--side note—there have been times I wish I had the ability to give up. That all of this obnoxious ability to keep going regardless of obstacle and opposition would go away. The result is that I know I can make it through just about anything. I hate that. Because I know this, there’s no hope of excuse or long-lasting meltdown in my life. I know that I have the ability to do and become just about anything I put my mind to but I seriously doubt that I’ll actually do it.

I think my whole family suffers from this dual blessing/curse of ability vs. realization of ability (or in other words, confidence/lack of confidence). I read in one of my brother, Chris’ scribblings once that sums it up better than I ever could. He referred to it as “wasted potential”. But just like me, I think he feels the compulsion not to waste it. But when you feel you can do anything, where do you begin!? And are you then required to become everything to everyone?! (I really see my sister, Cheri, caught in this conundrum.) --end side note—

Anyway, so that’s my biggest insecurity. That I can but won’t because I’m insecure.

Opposites

2009-01-03T16:31:00.000-08:00

I love a good contrast. In just about anything. Especially when it's unexpected and balanced. A few examples:

The easy one, PB and J. You know fatty and sugary...however, it's the fatty one that's probably better for you in this case...ooh, intrigue.

Warm blankets on a cold night.

Sweet and Sour anything.

My personal favorite-Chocolate covered pretzels (which I received in the mail today from a dear friend-Thanks Corinne!)

I have however, been introduced to another wonderful contrast. One you've probably all heard of and think is pretty cool. But trust me, if you've never seen it, it way better than you could imagine! The Trans-Siberian Orchestra. If you ever get a chance to see these guys perform do whatever you have to. Best concert you'll ever attend.

blues music with cheerful lyrics

upbeat break up songs

whatever it is give me a complimentary twist and I'm all over it.

One of the reasons these contrasts find such blissful harmony is that each one is constructed of a delicate balance. too much of one and it fails to be complimentary and can come across as not quite right, or just down right werid (Bjork).

What contrasts do you love?

Christmas was Good to Me

2008-12-26T07:47:00.000-08:00

Despite yesterday's somber and reverent beginning, which I will add a bit onto later, Christmas was good to me. I worked all day yesterday and it didn't feel like Christmas much at all but this morning it feels more like the season than it has all year. I turned off my phone when I got home last night and have no intention whatsoever of turning it on today. I'm enjoying the holiday season. I woke up warm and rested and wandered around a bit making sure the time was right to open presents. Ahhh...it was. So I sat down with the few presents I had and let out a long, contented, happy sigh. I got a pic frame and some paints from my sister, Kira. (I have no artistic ability but I do love the attempt-painting is probably my favorite artsy wannabe thing to do.) I don't want to give you list of all the things I got so let's just skip to the best.

(Even though I hadn't opened it yet I knew what one of my favorite gifts was going to be.) Several weeks ago at a casual dinner with friends we played the "what do you want for Christmas" game. Well, someone remembered...and added something to it to make it better.

So I'm at work and this highly annoying girl is showing off her jewelry from her boyfriend (poor guy). She's gawking about how sweet and "from the heart" it was (cause it was heart shaped, which cleary shows that it took more thought and was as "from the heart" as she pathetically believed than say...a diamond or tear drop shaped...or any other shape jewelry comes in--).

I just sit there with a smile my face. I know what I'm getting from a boy and it's not jewelry. It's much bigger, heavier, something I want/need, something I will use, something wonderful, something me, and something I said I wanted....

....it's a tool set!

My dad is probably already giving this guy props, but my mom is probably thinking this one move gives him a better shot. My friends are rolling their eyes and laughing, "yep, that's something she would want." Melodi is saying, "I want one!"

Everyone I've told though actually thinks it's a great gift and it is. Thanks Ben. But it gets better...

...not only did he get me a tool set...he got me a tool belt too.

Yep. And I love it. I laughed out loud when I opened it. Ooooh, and it's pretty. My kind of pretty. Suede. And we all know how much I like to wear leather. Anyone remember Senior Prom?

Oh and Houston is the most of obese city. San Antonio and Houston tend to switch places for first and second yearly.

Christmas Morning

2008-12-25T05:54:00.000-08:00

Minutes after I got to work today one of our patients passed away; exactly five minutes after I got to work. This patient taught me everything I know about the Jonas Brothers, which is that Nick is the cute one. You don't really need to know anything else. This is the first time that a patient I knew really well has passed and it happened first thing this Christmas morning. Shortly after the reports were filed I helped deliver Santa bags to the rest of the patients.

Somewhere to Run and Thank God for Good Men

2008-10-29T10:49:00.000-07:00

I finanly found somewhere to run!

San Antonio is a huge city (5th or 7th largest in the US) and I live pretty close (15 mins and 3 exits from city center) to downtown, right next to a huge, non-pretty university campus. So you can imagine the senery as well as the traffic. San Antonio is also the second most obese city, (New Orleans is the first, I believe); good luck finding anyone who knows where good running trails are. So I went out and found one.

As many of you know I started running at the beginning of this past summer and fell in love with it. (I don't care who you are, if I can fall in love with running you can. Granted it's no fun until you get in shape but once you're in shape enough to enjoy it, it becomes an addiction.) So I went out and found a place to feed my addiction.

It is a neighborhood about 15 minutes away from downtown. It's a collection of semi-country roads with some good ol' southern feeling homes. Although not extravagant, many have the classic arches over the driveways. The streets are lined with trees.

OH! And the best part about running here is that that perfect twilight running time, you know- with the beautiful, orange-tinged light and sweet breeze lasts about three hours! In SLC I had barely and hour and a half to get a run in (I think I was addicted to this time of day as much as running...running was just a way to more fully emerse myself in all of it). Some times I couldn't run as far/long as I would like because it would either turn cold or get dark by the time I was able to get out. Besides homeless people took to the hills where I would run at night. That's a lot about running. But there you have it.

Thank God for Good Men

I'm always surprised at how rough some people's lives must be, but then again, maybe they don't know how easy their lives could be and so they just don't really notice. Or sometimes, a big one, they just don't respect themselves enough to demand better.

A few of the other travel nurses that I work at Christus Santa Rosa Children's Hospital with me have gross lumps for husbands. I thank God for the good men that I know and how I've been treated, for the most part, by the men that I have dated and been friends with. (Respect may come into play here because I just pay no attention to those who don't respect me-except maybe once...any guesses?)

One of them will most likely be filing for divorce while she is here. Her husband, who she was fully supporting, left a while ago but came back because he didn't want to get a job and had no way of supporting himself; so he came back. Her lawyer basically told her taking a traveling assignment would be the only legal way to leave him without "abondoning" the house and cars (which she pays for) therefore losing them in a divorce. Her first night out of town he sent their daughter to stay at her friend's house indefinately and isn't answering his phone so their little girl can't get her toothbrush. She calls and asks her mom to send some money so she can buy that and other necessities without having to cause so much expense to her friend's family. Oh and he wants to spend the extra money she's earning by traveling on speakers, not their credit card bills.

Another husband of a woman I work with quit his decent paying, steady job the day she took her last final in nursing school-over three years ago-and has refused to work since. He stays home with the kids and does an..."ooookay job", but is also always asking her parents for money so he can play. She is of course embarrassed to be her age (30) and still getting money from her parents (which he sould be more ashamed of than her) so she went into travel nursing and will home school her kids on top of working full time so that they don't have to get money from them. (Contrary to popular belief nurses don't make that much travel nursing pays a little more.)

Again, I thank God for good men who are men. Who understand what it means to be a real man and feel it shameful to treat women poorly and shirk all responsibility. For those who are embarassed by any "man" who would not only shirk his responsibility but expect a woman to do his job and her job by herself while relaxing in her fight to keep surving and providing for her children in such hurtful and difficult circumstances without batting an eyelash, or lifting a finger, I thank you.

I have a great amount of respect for the roles that both men and women have, as well as our differences that so completely and beautifully compliment each other. (Easy now I'm not talking about "men's work" and "women's work".) I'm talking about the divinity of opposites and the innate love we have for the masculinity and feminity of each other. Some of you already know I think men are becoming less manly but women are becoming moreso, and not in a flattering or attractive way. Men should be men and women should be women.

Don't get me wrong I'm all for getting dirty with the boys and I need much less sap than most girls. But I am proudly and wholely a woman who, at the heart of it all, loves a good masculine (read masculine, not macho) man. That doesn't mean he never cries or is invincable, without vulnerablities or feelings. It means he respects women, feels an undeniable pull- because of his gender- to love, protect, serve and lead. So to all you real men out there, many of which I've had the joy and pleasure to have in my life, thank you and I love you.

So women, let him open the door but don't insist on it (and don't think you necessarily deserve it-you may not), be humbly greatful for it. Be appreciative that even through the societal acceptance of smearing gender lines and shirking our divine identities, they choose to be men.

Women: thank a good man today (remembering that men and women are different and what may be a great thank you for you, may not be to him. Maybe get him some killer snacks for the game or something-Anyway, make it personal. I'm always a big fan of just flat out saying it without fluff and sap that makes most men uncomfortable anyway.) Let him know you respect a man who honors his priesthood (for those who don't know what that is: the power given to righteous men to act is God's name. i.e. baptism, blessings of healing, comfort, etc. Ask me if you need more clarification.), does what is right because it is right, and who's arms aptly placed around a woman makes her feel small but strong vulnerable but safe, and reenergized all at the same time. (Guys, whether you're a friend, a father, a brother, boyfriend, or home teacher, you may not know you have this ability, but you do.)

Men: Women are tough, more than you can imagine. We can do more, be more, and are more than most people realize. But we are weak in that we can melt or callous at the slightest possitive or negative influence of a man. We are stronger than you think. We can make it through anything but we scar easily. I'm probably the last person many of you would think to be hearing this from, especially with how self-reliant I am. So maybe then it will be taken more seriously in that I am not as sappy, and breakable as some women. I am even a bit of a tomboy with a strong desire to see what I can do by myself. But it doesn't mean I don't know that a woman can go farther and be more with a good man behind her than she ever could on her own. And visa versa.

I am not married (SO okay with that at this time) and am as single as they come (kinda flaunted it and reveled in it this past year too :). But I do have good men behind me both past and present:

Randy Tidd
Adam Ramirez
Darin DeVore
Brian Cox
Dustin Hemsath
Chris, my brother

and even though it was very rough and ugly at times- eventually, my Dad, whom I love very much. (Who although never would have been affected by this before would probably tear up reading it now. Thank you Dad for the gentleness you've learned and shared; for the Priesthood blessings and hugs you couldn't give when I was younger but give in abundance now. I love you.)

Can you request a blog?

2008-10-06T12:56:00.001-07:00

So, thank you to the several of you that have requested that I start a blog; I'm flattered. I didn't know you could even request that someone start a blog. Let alone that there were people out there interested in my life/thoughts. I have several adventures that I'd like to post about (waiting for pics from Mel) but before I do I'd like to throw a few things out there about my fears of blogging.

1. I'm afraid I'll only blog when I'm at the extremes of emotions or thoughts (kind of like the journals of happy people who only write when they're mad, or depressed people who only write in their moments of bliss).

2. I'm afraid of who will and won't, as well as if anyone will or will not read my blog. (I haven't decided which one I fear the most: that I actually am as unimportant and uninteresting, as I feel sometimes and they won’t. Or that they will and will discover much more about me than I ever intended or more than they wanted to…probably that they will.)

3. I am also afraid of thinking so much about what I’m writing that I become over analytical of my writing or the topic that I’ll never post.

4. That I will end up writing things that will hurt those reading because I won’t censor my thoughts/feelings enough.

5. I don't know for sure that you people realize what you're asking for!

6. That without another end to the conversation my thoughts will be incomplete, piece-y, and not truly reflective of the reality of how I feel.

So, In answer to your requests, along with this disclaimer:

These are My thoughts; My adventures; My philosophies. All from My point of view. Odds are, the way I see things is not how many of you see them and that you’re likely to be bugged by some of the stuff rolling around in my head.

This is my blog.

However, for those of you who know me well, and especially those of you who requested I start blog, you probably not only expected this, but anticipated it. Dare I say even hoped for?

Also, I am going to attempt to be pretty open and honest about a lot things, that I previously have not been (hence the worry of those I care about being hurt). Obviously I have no problems sharing thoughts, ideas, and opinions and many of you are often shocked about what comes out of my mouth but you’d be so proud of me if only you knew what I manage to keep in!
Anyway, that’s not all that I mean. Many, if not all of you would also be shocked at the rest of what goes on inside. Most of what I tend to discuss with people is of no real consequence to me and any thing that is has been under lock and key with gorillas and sarcasm and nonchalance and distance and Mounties. Or, on the other hand, maybe I’m not as guarded and seemingly cold as I think. In which case, I’d be pleased.

Okay enough of this over-thinking a simple first blog entry. Let’s get started.

And believe it or not, often I’m at a loss as to what to write about so…any requests?