Diverted from breakdown: A future preventative method?

You know those days when you feel like a giant Jenga tower? Where as the day goes on, it feels like people or events are continually pulling out the blocks that stabilize you, leaving you feeling weaker and more wobbily... You continue your day but you wonder when that last block will be pulled that will knock you down. It might not even be a block near the base of the tower, but one near the top that eventually tips the balance just enough to send the whole thing crashing to the ground. You may start sobbing to the convenience store employee when you discover you don't have exact change... or other spectacles after that final crash.

This afternoon felt like one of those days. Blocks were being pulled, and the tower was becoming much less stable. I felt the low frequency swaying, and others around me likely did as well. I thought it was possible that finding the water cooler empty at the lab might send me into a fit of tears that would reverberate down the hallway and into all of my co-workers offices. But alas, after all of that build up... no crash this time.

What was different this time? You might be wondering... Did I gain an optimistic attitude out of the blue? Did I give myself a positive pep talk that calmed the storm and put a few imaginary blocks back into place? Did I find a new balance structure of blocks that would allow me to feel better? Or maybe I just got really really drunk?!? But in fact, none of these things diverted the potential breakdown. Instead, the answer was actually more simple and unfortunately, I did not initiate it. A simple event gave me the gift that so often clears my mind of small troubles, and that, my friends, is the gift of perspective.

All it took was a simple and short email with good news about the health of one of my family members. As I read it, I started to tear up a bit in my office (but no echoing sobs). I felt so silly. The difficulties I'm having with annoying institutional review board technicalities ultimately don't matter. And computer problems can be fixed. Minor misunderstandings can be patched up. Those things will be resolved and years down the road I probably wont even remember that they happened. It is the fact that I have a family member leaving the hospital and a bunch of others who aren't in the hospital is what matters. Those are the things that should count in the Jenga tower.

I know this, I really do, but it really helps to be reminded sometimes. And the timing of these little 'perspective reminders' aren't always planned to prevent breakdowns, so I guess you have to try to remember these things in times of stress and Jenga block disarray. Maybe just remembering that you could be getting bad news about something that really matters, and you have not. And maybe that simple thought will be enough to keep the tower from falling over...

Atleast this newfound perspective will help prevent me from breaking down if the Spartans lose to UNC tonight. Not that that is gonna happen... but just in case.

The story of pompon... for real this time.

It usually starts when someone sees one of my many pieces of MSU Pompon apparel.

'Pompon?! Isn't it... pompom?

I usually make some witty comment about how 'Oh crap!! they spelled it wrong on my shirt! Thanks for letting me know!!' in order to enforce the idea that in fact it is pompon, despite what they might have thought.

Unfortunately, the nomenclature is not the only problem one is faced with when trying to explain what pompon is. Once you explain the correct spelling, you are faced with an even bigger challenge... explaining what it actually is.

Usually this is a futile endeavor. No matter how I try to explain it, it never seems to do it justice. The conversation typically goes like this:

Confused Person: So wait... its like Cheerleading?
Me: No, we don't actually cheer at all, and we don't do stunts, but we do hold poms like cheerleaders.
Confused Person: Oh... okay, so what do you do?
Me: Well, we do a kickline, and the whole thing is very visual and focused on transitions and being really precise with our movements.
Confused Person: So... like dancing?
Me: Well sort of, but its a lot less individual than dance. Its more focused on the bigger picture of what the group is doing and less on individual moves. But we do do jumps and things like that that are dance-like.
Confused Person: Uhh okay... I don't really get it... can you show me?
Me: Definitely not.

As you can tell, after this conversation the confused person is left thinking that pom is something that doesn't do cool stunts like cheerleading and doesn't do any cheers, and includes people who wont even show you what they are talking about, so generally they are left with a poor impression of what pom really is. 'But it really is cool!' I try to explain... but at this point, it is really too late. Enter, the video below. The video was put together by a Michigan State student and she did a really great job of explaining what pom is. The video shows the current MSU pom team practicing their kickline routine along with some nice commentary by some of my old teammates. This should make my life a lot easier... :)

It was the Best Day!... Of my life?

If anyone talked with me in basically any context last week (e.g., in class, in meetings, in line for the bank), or know anything about me at all, you likely know that one of the biggest events of my life took place this past Saturday. Was this my wedding? My graduation day? The day I got into grad school? No, no, it was, of course, the Michigan vs. Michigan State football game. But not just any Spartan Wolverine faceoff... this year was different. It felt different. The buildup was different. This was our f**king year.

For those of you who aren't up on the current stats of this matchup, let me enlighten you. Michigan State hadn't beaten Michigan since 2001. They hadn't beaten Michigan at home since 1990. In case you aren't aware, it is 2008. And I went to school from 2003 to 2007. I also know a lot of Michigan fans, some of which went to the school, and some who did not (my fav kind) who will pretty much remind me of the above facts any chance they get.

Almost immediately following our loss to Ohio State the previous Saturday, my thoughts moved to the next game. During that entire work-week, any reminders of the game on Saturday would tie my stomach in knots and possibly get me raving to some random person about how big of a game it was for us. I started to get confused and thought maybe I was actually playing in the game given my intense anticipation of it. I even declined offers to go out and went to bed early Friday night in preparation for the big day.

The game itself was an emotional roller coaster, as usual. From the questionnable calls (flying Wolverine who hits pylon gets touchdown, a call which was deemed incorrect after the game was over based on the NCAA rulebook) to the quick run down the field Michigan made at the end of the first half to tie the score, to my 4th quarter marriage proposal to our tight end Blair White (due to his impressive 143 passing yds), the game was certainly not lacking in excitement. It started to feel all too familiar to the Spartan fans at several points, but we struggled to stay positive. This year was going to be different... right?

As the clock began to wind down, a strong concoction of fear and excitement began to churn around inside of me. Sure, we were up 14 points and there was less than 3 minutes to go... but all true Spartan fans know that doesn't actually mean the game is over. Until that final knee was taken, my body was not going to relax, that was very clear.

When that final knee was taken and the water cooler was dumped onto Dantonio, the joy that welled up inside of me was pretty much indescribable, but I'll give it a shot. I'm gonna go ahead and say it was like Christmas, New Years, Easter, and Flag Day combined, times 100. I was on Cloud 9 and nothing, not annoying Penn St fans trying to take our seats, not the fact that my fingers were almost bleeding due to nervous biting during the game, nothing could keep me down.

One might think that its sad that this event was up there as one of the best days of my life, but this means you just don't understand the happiness I was experiencing. It means you just aren't getting it. Over a week later, the memory of that day still brings a smile to my face... Its something that can never be taken away from me...

To rid this world...

If I had a choice to rid the world of one human chracteristic; if I had the option of plucking it from existence, I think it would have to be narrow-mindedness.

Recently, the presence of this characteristic has been staring me in the face more often than I can ever recall in the past. I'm sure its always been there, but I suppose I'm just noticing it more often. And now that its already on the forefront of my mind it seems that much more pervasive, and so utterly debilitating that it blows my mind.

In general, I'm referring to the tendency that exists within some people to hold a certain view and be absolutely unwilling to chance that view, even if a plethora of evidence presents itself for the opposing side. Obviously, this could be referring to many different situations: science, religion, race, etc., and like I said, the more I think about the general presence of this destructive mindset, the more I notice it.

But seriously, on what planet does it make sense to judge a person solely by the color of their skin? (the answer, apparently, is earth). And even if you do that, how can you be so stubborn as to ignore all reasonable and rational evidence and continue on your narrow-minded and destructive path of racism. What type of person would rationally say that they would prefer to interact with (in any capacity) a trashy, immature white individual over a mature and classy black person?

I know, I know, it isn't rational, and thats the problem. It is absolutely and completely emotional and these stereotypes are engrained in these people. Its hard for them, especially older people, to change long-held views... Blah, blah, blah... But honestly, I don't care. And what about the young people who think this way? Whats their excuse? At what age is it no longer deemed acceptable to outwardly express ridiculous prejudices? When are we going to move forward again? I thought we were... but I'm just not sure anymore...

I'm being very opinionated here. But guess what? If you would like to challenge my view, I will hear you out. I will have a calm and rational conversation about it, I swear. And if anyone presents me with enough evidence to suggest that my original hypothesis (i.e., that the physical attributes of a person do not determine what that person is actually like), then I'll re-evaluate and consider changing my original hypothesis. I just wish others would do the same...

Results Preview. Don't Tell JAP.

The official results of our most important poll are in.

For those that missed it, the question at hand was 'Do you often have the urge to kick, punch, or hit really cute things?' See previous post 'Adorable violence: A MI Phenomenon?' for a more detailed explanation of why on earth this question was posed.

Results (N = 34)
YES, and I'm from Michigan n = 11 (32%)
YES, and I'm NOT from Michigan n = 3 (8%)
NO, and I'm from Michigan n = 9 (26%)
NO, and I'm NOT from Michigan n = 11 (32%)

As you can see, there is some evidence to support my hypothesis, and some that goes against it. It appears that it is rare that non-Michigan residents express this trait. However, within Michigan residents, it is more of a mixed bag, with about half of individuals reporting the urge and half of them not. As usual, more research is needed for a definitive conclusion.

In light of the apparent need to further study this issue in Michigan residents, I have scheduled an emergency trip back to the mitten. I will spend some very long hours conducting... er, research... around the state. In fact, to get an adequate sample that is representative of the entire state, I will be traveling to Detroit, Novi, East Lansing, Waterford, and Dearborn all in one weekend all for the sake of research. If you are going to be in those areas during the times of October 3-6th, please let me know so that you can get involved with important activities that will hopefully better all of our lives.

For the write up of the current results, look to an upcoming issue of the Journal of Abnormal Psychology. I don't forsee any problems with acceptance. Despite limitations of sample size, this research is clearly groundbreaking and a starting point for a very exciting line of follow-up studies.

Philadelphia Distance Run: Metaphor Attempt

Its kinda like riding a roller coaster. Only about two hours and 9 minutes longer.

You're nervous to get started. You might question whether this is really something you should do. You might be a little scared, and think to yourself, 'Can I handle this?' or 'Am I going to get sick?' But you've done the preparation (i.e., waiting in line for two hours, or training for 14 weeks) so you decide to go for it.

Like I said, the actual experience is a bit different in terms of length. Two hours doesn't really compare to 30 seconds. But the adrenaline rush is present in both (hopefully) and each certainly has their ups and down. And as you pull up to the finish with either modality, you feel a sense of relief and the post-adrenaline rush high.

After you stop, maybe you feel a little sick. Your heart is racing. Your legs feel wobbly. You might stumble into someone waiting to leave the finishers coral/queue line.

As your heart rate slows and the blood starts returning to your brain, you begin to think a little clearer. You are still high, but its a different kind of high. The world has stopped spinning, for the most part. You're brain can think in complete sentences again.

And you know what is says to you?

You have GOT to do that again!

Emblems of hurt

I started to write a post about the Lions. I really did. I was reading some articles about them. Started typing my usual rants. Then I started getting depressed. That familiar feeling of anger mixed with continued suffering I get whenever I think about our dreadfully disappointing franchaise. Luckily, in my web surfing, I found this really cool logo making site. Spent a little too much time on it probably. But it made me laugh which lessened the painful feelings. I figure it was probably a better way to spend my time than writing the same old stuff about the Lions anyway. Got the depressingly-true saying from another site, but made it look a bit nicer I think.

If seeing this reduces the pain experienced by just one Lions fan, it has done its job. Hang in there guys, although things will probably never get better in terms of actual football games, atleast we can now make logos to capture our misery.

Still only half-listening

So... the half marathon is in 5 days. FIVE DAYS! I didn't think I would be nervous but apparently, I was wrong. Its a good nervousness, I think, not debilitating, but I didn't expect it. Its my own fault really. I went online this morning and started searching "Philadelphia Distance Run" and "blog" and came up with a ton of people, obsessing over the perfect way to prepare and run this thing. To use my Michigan drawl for ya, "Ohh cryyapp."

I don't know what I'm supposed to eat the day before! And am I allowed to use my legs on Saturday?! I thought so... but now I'm not so sure. I found a blog with a guy obsessing about if he could walk around the day before and what type of juice he should drink. I was just planning to enjoy a nice cold beer to calm the nerves. Here are these people obsessing over these small details, and here I am, mosh pitting with my friends just a week before. And now, I'm starting to get a little freaked out...

The problem with this race is, I did train well for a while and although I'm still technically trained, I could have done a little more training, a little less drinking, and a little less moshing as the race date approached, but I chose to have fun instead. Again... whoops.

Its just like in high school when I ran track. I would always half-listen to advice and half-prepare for whatever race I was running. Like, I would listen to the parts of the preparation that sounded good, and then trail off and not listen to the rest, which usually included the important part. So then I end up eating a huge bowl of pasta a few hours before the meet, instead of the day before, because "the day before" part didn't get taken in as I was daydreaming about what type of mostaccioli I was going to consume. Or I would eat a whole bag of sour skittles before my 300m hurdle race because I heard a lot of sugar could help, but I didn't listen to the fact that sour skittles and no water would make for a very very very dry mouth.

Same thing happened here, it seems. I followed several weeks of an official training schedule printed off of Runnersworld.com, but I didn't listen to the fact that I shouldn't drink heavily on the weekends leading up to the race. I have no clue what I should be eating. And I drink black coffee in place of water because, well, it tastes better.

And now the race is Sunday. And here are all these people better trained than me. I know its my own fault. I made my bed and now I gotta lie in it, right? Well honestly, I'm just struggling to keep an open mind here. Sunday should just be fun. No expectations... I say as I sit here legs shaking with anticipation underneath my desk...

First mosh attempt: Lessons from the pit

One good way to gage the quality of a weekend is to answer the following question: In the days following, how often do you think back to the events that occurred and laugh out loud? Several of my weekends recently have ranked well using this barometer, and this past weekend was no exception. The whole weekend was great but the events of Friday night are currently inducing the most laughs for me... and one incident in particular...

I'll attempt to walk you through it. A group of us gathered at our apartment to "socialize" a bit before heading out to a bar. Because we are really smart people that always think things through before doing them, we chose a bar that was mostly outdoors (Cavanaugh's River Deck) even though it was raining significantly and showed no signs of letting up. I've always said that Cavanaugh's reminds me of being in South Padre Island on my Senior Year Spring Break and despite the rain, Friday was really no exception. It was just significantly less crowded and wetter version of Tequila Frog's in SPI complete with classic songs like Baby Got Back. The major differences were small things like the presence of new inventions and products (e.g., Budlight Lime) that hadn't been invented back when I was a young'n (2003).

Despite the paucity of people, we were having a great time. We danced out in the rain and took lots of pictures in which most of us looked like drowned rats. Then my friend Ajay came up with a great suggestion. He looked at me, eyes glowing with excitement, and said, "Lets mosh pit!" I had never done this before, but being the adventurer that I am, always up for trying new things, I immediately agreed that this was a great plan. In fact, I didn't just agree, I was pumped about it. I couldn't freakin' wait. The fact that the deck was soaked and I was wearing gold flats with absolutely no traction on them did not deter me from taking on this important endeavor. Nope, I was ready and eager to mosh like a mad woman.

So, we started to "mosh pit," I guess. I was told that we jumped up a few times, and apparently, I decided I was done with this game because I stopped and stood my ground for a bit. Ajay, however, did not get the memo that the moshing had ceased. Nope, no one told him that time was up for that round, and I paid a hefty price. Next thing I know, I'm flat on my back, gazing into the rainy skies of Philadelphia. My immediate thoughts were of fear that I had injured myself to the point where I couldn't run my half marathon in a week, but after I realized that I really didn't feel hurt at all, I started cracking up.

To give you an idea of what this might have looked like, I'll tell you what the observing bystanders told me. This included not only my friends, but several other people at the bar at that time. This fall was not discreet. Apparently, my fall was almost instantaneous. That one second I was completely vertical, oblivious to my impending doom and the next I was completely horizontal, my face showing all sorts of emotions, fear, shock, amusement, etc.

Two days later, my upper back is definitely really sore but it appears I will suffer no lasting damage and I expect to be fully recovered and ready to run next Sunday. Most importantly, the mental image of this event still makes me laugh out loud. Just another fun story from another fun weekend. So thank you Philadelphia... and friends. And let the fun and debauchery continue! But perhaps in the future we should only mosh on dry surfaces,... with special shoes designed for moshing... And maybe we should start sending memos to each other when we are done being in the pit...

I really am learning a lot here in Philadelphia. From heirarchical statistical analysis to techniques for not getting slammed to the floor at a bar. Yes, I'm learning a whole heckuva lot.

The picture above was taken by Kristy soon after the infamous fall. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. This picture shows the emotions described above on my face, Ajay's less than concerned attitude, and Holly's concern/confusion about the entire event. Right on the money, I'd say. Nice photography skills Kristy.

Adorable violence: A MI phenomenon?

Alright, I got a very important question for y'all: What do punching, drop-kicking, and slapping have to do with small furry creatures?

Some may say nothing (and shoot me a look of shock and disdain), but I beg to differ. You see, for as long as I can remember, the urge to carry out these actions tend to coincide with sightings of cute things... So what I want to know is, am I on my own here?

That was somewhat of a retorical question, because I know that I am not, at least not completely. You see, my friends from home have voiced these same urges. But is this a Michigan thing? Are mitten-state natives secretly (or not so secretly, now that I've outed us) evil animal-torturing fiends? Is it because we go camping a lot and previous bear-camping trash related traumas have caused this connection? I have mentioned this strange urge to people in Philly and received a response not unlike that that was predicted above (i.e., horror, disgust). Hmm... perhaps I am on to something with my new state-of-origin-cute=hurt theory...

I should clarify, though, that this urge does not only exist when cute animals are present, but most anything that is small and cute. A lot of times it is with animals, like when I had hamsters, I would often have the urge to squeeze them really hard because they were so damn cute (see pictures of Dumbledore alone, and also of me and him as I resist the urge to sqeeze him), but sometimes other cute things will bring about the feeling too. In fact, this post was inspired by thoughts about cute ponytails (got my hair did yesterday!). Thats right, ponytails, when they are really short and cute, also elicit the punching/hitting urge. Because they are just so dang little!

Again though, another clarification is warranted before I continue. Rarely do we actually act on these urges, I swear. I have never sought to harm any creatures, no matter how cute they are, and how bad the urge to drop-kick them is. The only time these drives can be acted upon is in the case of things that cannot be hurt, like ponytails, or the occasional really cute stuffed animal. For example, ponytails may sometimes be swatted around a bit, but they will always be left unhurt, perhaps just a little shaken up at most.

Alright, so after describing these urges and outing myself and my friends and our violent minds, I have to know, do people from other states have these urges as well? Please post comments here, and complete the poll that I will post once I figure out how.

Thanks in advance for taking the time to provide data on this very important topic. Cute things everywhere, and my curious mind, are forever indebted to you.

Meaningless football commentary and predictions

Welp, the first NFL football Sunday is over, and I'm as happy as a clam. I was able to watch all of the Eagles game and some of the Dallas game from the comfort of my couch with a ready supply of delicious boneless wings by my side. I mean, what more can a girl ask for? A Big W from the Detroit Lydowns? Nah, I gotta have some consistency in this ever-changing life of mine.

Although I kept an eye on the top right corner of the screen to watch the depressingly familiar Lions game updates, my focus was on the Eagles game this Sunday. And there are several highlights worth mentioning here, like McNabb's 90 year TD pass to Baskett (tying a club record), Jackson's overall stellar rookie performance (and his ballsy back tracking during the punt returns that seemed to be heading for disaster but were resolved quite nicely), almost witnessing Andy Reid's first shutout game, but not quite, etc. etc. However, there was a somewhat odd and unconventional highlight for myself, that perhaps speaks to my somewhat odd and unconventional mind. If any of you were watching between the plays (maybe your wings were also within arms reach, like mine were, negating the need to move from the couch at all), you may have noticed some up close and personal footage of this really awesome pigeon.

Yes, thats right, you heard correctly, a pigeon. And before I get a bunch of crap about being the girl who says shes a football fan, yet posts "football posts" that rave about random birds (no pun intended) on the field, let me defend myself briefly. I did watch the game, and could perhaps make a few semi-intelligent comments about it, however, I am no expert on Eagles football, and right now my knowledge in pro football is generally lacking due to a reduction in my football-watching last season. So yes, I'm about to rave about this pigeon, because it made me laugh, so back off.

So about this pigeon. I am the only one who notices the random bird footage that appears semi-often during sports broadcasts? I'm not sure why they do it, maybe the camera-person wants to make sure people watching don't go into sensory-overload always looking at crazy Eagles fans like the ones pictured here, but regardless, it always cracks me up. Even after the game was over, my thoughts kept coming back to this random pigeon. It was just hangin' out, pecking its way around the field, and it brought a smile to my face. You see, I was thinking that maybe me and this pigeon have more in common than you might think. We are both just chillin', pecking around in Philly, checkin' stuff out, and just enjoying life. Also, we are both Eagles fans, so we'd have that to talk about.

So yeah, this pigeon seemed to really encompass my thoughts on the football weekend. Random, I know, but like I said, my Eagles knowledge is sub-par and my Lions ranting can be saved for another day (since its always the same week to week). That being said, I'm looking forward to changing that a bit this season and maybe in future weeks I'll have a greater intellectual contribution to make. Or perhaps it will be about some other super-important topic like the beer selection at the games... I guess only time will tell.

Either way, I (and the famous pigeon) are pumped about this year's football season, both college and pro. And I know the anticipation has been mounting, so here are my expert predictions: I will consume a lot of beer, a lot of garlic boneless wings, and thoroughly enjoy all aspects of the football games this season including (hopefully) triumphs and (inevitable) turmoil alongside some fanatic Spartans, some die hard Eagle fans, and other random friends that just like beer and wings. And unlike some so-called expert predictions for the season, I can say with a great deal of confidence that these ones will be played out appropriately... just you wait...

One more to share

From Raleigh Craigslist: I will trade my sombrero for your kayak.

So, you finally realized that kayaks are work. You would much rather replace all that sweaty paddling with a cool, shady nap under a wide-brim hat dreaming of nachos.

You think about all the space in your garage that kayak's taking up and just start to count how many jars of salsa you could fit on that shelf.

You remember last Cinco de Mayo when you showed up to the big party sans sombrero. Someone threw a bell pepper at your head.

Don't you think it's about time you traded in that kayak for a nice comfortable sombrero?

Okay. How about I also throw in a pinata with 300 dollars worth of loose change?

Think about it...If you no longer need that 10-12 foot sit on top kayak, I have a sombrero that----and I'm not even lying-----would look stunning on you.

You think you look good in that poncho of yours, you just wait until the ladies get a load of you in that sombrero. Meow, indeed.

Call [DELETED] to talk details about what's been missing in your life (my sombrero).

I love witty people. Thank you, random craigslist poster-person for this contribution to my life. I applaud you.

My new favorite distraction: Best-of-craigslist

From Oklahoma City Craigslist: need a female companion 4 anything

I need female at least 18 and no more than 50 years old to spend the day with this summer. I prefer for them to live near Penn Square Mall. If not, then at least somewhere I can ride the city bus to meet them. I also prefer for them to be a city bus rider. One other thing: ABSOLUTELY NO MALES, GUYS, NOR BOYS!!!!!!!!! If you are a male, then I will not answer your reply. I hope this does not creep or offend anybody. Thank you.



I tried to answer this ad, but received no reply. Maybe its because I don't live near the Penn Square mall? Or because I have a boys name when he clearly asked for no boys? Most likely, though, its because someone else beat me to it. Offers like this just don't last forever, you see. Only 1 lucky 18 - 50 year old woman was able to capitalize on this offer, I suppose... sigh... maybe it wont work out long-term and next summer he will post again? One can only hope...

From New York Craigslist: MISS ME! Goddamn it! m4w

Every week I check this damn thing to see if anyone in this city of millions has missed me. What gives?

I ride the train no less than twice a day, five or more days a week. I'm pressed against some of you in the commute to/from work. Haven't any of you women missed me?

I go to the park. I shop at places. I walk around. I wear shoes. I have ear phones. I drink stuff. Where's my missed connection? Start missing me already, goddamnit. I am very easy to miss.

Monday: Go to work after the weekend. Try not to sweat in the sweltering humidity of the subway. No one misses a sweater. Listen to music to drown out the reality of being stuck in the train with a million strangers; avoid eye contact at all cost. Bullshit about the weekend with the coworkers until quitting time. Get caught up on CL.

Tuesday: Go to work. Eat at one of same four places around work. Walk around a little during lunch, hoping to bump into someone new. Go home and contact friends to make plans for the weekend. Check CL.

Wednesday: Go to work. Getting adventurous now and spend most of lunch break wandering around trying to find someplace new to eat. Realize nothing of interest has been built since I checked last week. End up eating at one of four usual places. Try taking a different route home. This time try to make eye contact with as many strangers as I can on train/bus/ferry/foot.

Thursday: Go to work. Spend most of lunch hour running errands, returning library material, getting money from the bank, and calling up friends to reconfirm plans. Go shopping after work. Walk up and down each aisle to make doubly sure everyone has had a chance to miss me. Get home and get frustrated that still no one has posted with my description.

Friday: Go to work. Spend all day waiting for work to end. Take smoking break. Look around for smokers to miss. Get out of work. Forget all about CL. Find friends and go eating/drinking/event attending. See more strangers in one night than rest of week combined. Stumble home at ungodly hour.

Saturday: Wake up at some point. Roll over to the park. Maybe check out a museum. Try to look deep and lost in thought. Feel envious of all the people missing connections right before my eyes. Think about posting when I get home. Get home and forget or become crushed by laziness or the ennui of it all. Look up ennui in dictionary.

Sunday: Fuck it. I'm sleeping in. I'm doing laundry. I'm ordering take-out. I'm not leaving the damn house. You've had your chances all week. I'm taking a me day. I'm reading a book. And by reading, I mean surfing the internet; whereas by book, I mean porn. Knock myself out with the usual roofie-colada, wine + sleeping pill, so I can wake up in the morning and pack myself into an overcrowded train to get to work and check CL.

Fucking miss me already. I can't do this forever.

I absolutely love this one. Especially this part: 'Get home and forget or become crushed by laziness or the ennui of it all. Look up ennui in dictionary.' Whether or not this is sarcasm at its greatest, or simply the tale of a very sad individual, I'm a very big fan of this rant.

From New York Craigslist: FREE BROKEN TIME MACHINE

Never got around to fixing it, all the buttons are stuck so it doesn't go in reverse only forward at normal speed

come pick it up whenever

I'm laughing out loud in my office right now. People walking by are looking at me funny.

Thats all for now. Maybe one day I can make it on BOC!?! Hmmm... yes... ridiculous ideas are already brewing...

My new archnemesis: Fine motor movement

Went rock climbing for the first time today at a indoor gym in Jersey. Well, second time, officially, if you count going up about 10 feet at an REI in Michigan years back. No one told me to use my legs that time though, and contrary to popular belief, my arms are not freakishly strong and able to propel me up a wall with no help from the lower half. Before I knew it, my arms shaking uncontrollably and my forearms swelling to the size of humungus ears of corn.

Today was definitely better though. I had a good teacher (thanks Jena!) and I was able to use my leg strength to propel me up the wall a few times. Even tried a bit of bouldering (tough!) before my forearm muscles checked out. Definitely a cool experience. I hope to build up a bit of forearm strength and be back soon...

Currently, though, fine motor movement has never been more difficult. Putting the 7 quarters into the little slots for laundry took about seven times as long as it should have. And tpying rigth now, denfintely is a bti tuogher than usula. Putting toothpaste on my toothbrush... also not so pleasant. But these are sacrifices I'm willing to make. It will all be worth it, I think, when I get that first offer for a sponsorship for semi-pro climbing like that 16 year old kid at the gym. 23 isn't too late to start a career in climbing, is it?

In terms of my career trajectory, I like to set my goals high. Perhaps climbing the sandstone crack found in Zion National Park (pictured above) is next? I mean, they say if you shoot for the moon, you land among the stars, or something like that... Maybe if I aim for that, I'll end up going to Zion, watching someone else climb the crack while enjoying a hoppy Utah microbrew beer. Yeah... I'm pretty sure I could live with that...

HTML code rocks my world

Alright, the day is almost over and my updated list is below. I learned how to do the actual checkboxes, which pretty much made my day seeing as I can actually manually check the boxes, woo!. Some things were moved since I actually did them early (who AM I?). Lets hope this new and productive Shawn is here to stay. Don't make any sudden movements, you might scare her...

Monday
Post in blog about check boxes (and the endorphins are flowin'...)
Attend lab meeting
Make intelligent contribution to meeting
Advise young minds on graduate education (i.e., meet with a student who is considering taking a graduate level course)
Email to finalize phone meeting with professor from Cornell
Conduct structured interview
Write report of interview
Conduct another structured interview
Write report of that interview
Prep for meeting with advisor Tuesday morning
Find time between the above things to consume some type of nourishment
Listen to music on my iPOD between these tasks that will motivate me to continue completing them (e.g., Rocky theme song)
Learn how to post actual checkboxes in my blog instead of the lame dash marks

Tuesday
Go for a run
Meeting with my advisor to discuss Masters thesis project and prepare for phone meeting
Conduct annual review with advisor and determine sufficient explanation for my pitfalls in the first year (eek!)
Attend consensus meeting for interviews conducted on Monday and last week
Conduct structured interview

Wednesday
Prep for phone conference with Cornell professor and my advisor

I must go now and finish the last couple of tasks on my Monday list. I certainly hope this new productive self is here for good, but one can never know for sure. She has been elusive in the past and may prove that way in the future. I think its best to take atvantage of this new found motivation as much as possible while I can...

Week of accomplishment, endorphins, and checkboxes

There is something so rewarding about checking off a little box. I mean, it feels goooood. I'm sure that the explanation is quite simple: You set a goal, and now you've accomplished it. Endorphins are released and your mood is increased. Just like anything else associated with endorphins (e.g., running, eating) I really think that the whole thing can be a little addicting... if you let it. Therefore, my plan this week is to become addicted to box-checking. Week of accomplishment, we will call it. And you, dear readers, will be responsible for holding me accountable...

How is it addictive, you ask? I'm tellin ya, that feeling of glory that comes along with the accomplishment can't be beat. Its the same feeling you get when you finish a marathon you've been training for, I think. Or when you finally get into the grad program of your choice. Check! Just sent out an email that you've needed to send for about 5 days... check! [enter glowing feeling of accomplishment] Same deal... lesser scale.

This week, I have several things I want to accomplish. Some work related, some school related, some personal things, and some social things (its good to mix it up, I think). In previous weeks, I do sometimes set my goals too high, so this time I'll try to make them clear and reasonsable. Here we go...

Monday:
- Post in blog about checkboxes (check!!! and the endorphins are flowin'... )
- Attend lab meeting
- Make intelligent contribution to meeting
- Advise young minds on graduate education (i.e., meet with a student who is considering taking a graduate level course)
- Email to finalize phone meeting with professor from Cornell
- Conduct structured interview
- Write report of interview
- Conduct another structured interview
- Write report of that interview
- Prep for meeting with Michael Tuesday morning
- Find time between the above things to consume some type of nourishment
- Listen to music on my iPOD between these tasks that will motivate me to continue completing them (e.g., Rocky theme song)

Tuesday:
- Meeting with my advisor to discuss Masters thesis project and prepare for phone meeting
- Conduct annual review with advisor and determine sufficient explanation for my pitfalls in the first year (eek!)
- Attend consensus meeting for interviews conducted yesterday and last week
- Conduct structured interview
- Find time to run sometime??

Wednesday:
- Update on progress on above tasks and finish the rest of the week. (not gonna lie, I got a little overwhelmed in terms of where to go next... baby steps, people... baby steps)
- Learn how to post actual checkboxes in my blog instead of these lame dash marks . . .

Sheeeesh

Okay so it has been wayy too long since I posted. I am aware of this. But the thing is, despite being a lot more comfortable with myself and my imperfections than I used to be, I'm still somewhat of a perfectionist. I try to write in this blog often, and even though it is random, I try to make it as perfectly random as possible. I usually look over my posts before I post them, and if they don't seem to be getting a message across that I like, I will usually delete them. This happens a lot, especially when I'm going through a hard time. I sometimes find myself worrying about who will read them and what people will think. Other times I realize that the entire post either makes a very weak point, or a very trivial or obvious one, so I scrap the whole idea. This entire process tends to repeat itself quite often. In fact, it occurring right now, as I type this. I just went back and read the post thus far and thought about how it really makes no sense and doesn't really have much of a point...

So heres my dilemma. Do I post this anyway, revealing my imperfections in thought and my struggle to get it together? Is this being too candid with a random community of readers? Perhaps.... but maybe I don't care. Maybe its okay to not make sense sometimes. And maybe that makes life interesting. Nobody is completely put together at all times, and they shouldn't be expected to be.

I've come to the conclusion that for me, 23 has been and will likely to continue to be a very... ummm... interesting year. I don't know how else to put it. Sometimes it is a struggle and I feel completely lost. And other times I feel greater happiness that I ever have in my entire life. So why shouldn't I document that experience along with all the other more concrete revelations and experiences I have had? Why not admit to the world that sometimes my life feels like a mess. I know I'm not the only one, so why should I be ashamed? Like I've sad before, if you aren't honest about where you are currently, how are you ever going to move forward? And when I do move forward (and I will, because I refuse to not) I want to look back and remember how far I've come.

Sure, this post doesn't make a whole lot of sense (I just went back and read it again), but thats kinda the whole point. Life isn't always going to be perfect. Things aren't always going to be clear. You aren't always going to have a plan that you are able to stick to. Things will get in the way. You will be pushed off your path and sometimes forced to choose another. And you may find yourself completely surprised about where you end up. You may find yourself feeling stuck... at a loss for what to say... but whatever... man...

Life gives us lots of unique experiences... both subjectively good and bad. And I'm going to make the most of all of them... in whatever ways I can. And apparently, one way in which I will do that is by posting about my confusion. So there you have it. Perhaps my next post will make more sense? Or maybe not... but thats what makes 23 such an interesting year...

On making trains...

No matter how close you think the East Falls train station is to your house, do not under any circumstances allow yourself to leave the house with only 3 minutes to make it to the station. Even though technically, if all things go perfectly, (meaning the train is at least 2 minutes late AND a cab comes by and offers you a free ride) you could potentially make it on time, you should not count on this to happen. You will be better off leaving yourself the necessary 7 minutes to comfortably arrive at the station. This will leave you with minimal amounts of sweat soaking through your clothes... a more desirable option, I swear.

Despite knowing these things, I could never seem to learn from my mistakes. Up until the last week living in East Falls I would still find myself sprinting to the train, flip flops and all (or perhaps heels, that was always fun). Usually I would make it, but the people on the train would probably wish that I hadn't because no one wants to stand next to someone who is sweating profusely.

The best time was when I was catching the train downtown to meet my ride to a conference in Pittsburgh. I was all dressed up with my nice conference clothes and my hair done and was holding, lets face it, around 14 different items including a duffel bag, a hanging bag with my suit, my poster tube, my purse, etc. etc... I left a tad bit late and as usual, and saw the familiar image of the train rushing down the tracks when I was still a good 100 meters from the stop. I had to sprint full force, conference attire (including heels) and all, but thankfully, I made it. When I got on the train, clearly struggling intensely to keep everything together, people barely glanced up. A few people sat and stared, which was nice, but most just went on reading their newspapers or checking their Blackberrys. As I struggled to put one of my bags on the overhead rack, my enormous poster tube got a little out of control and started moving dangerously close to this girl's face. However, instead of helping me or accepting my apology, she simply turned her head away from the tube, leaning far over in her seat. Umm... thanks.

So thats my advice about trains. I guess another piece of advice is don't take a train when you have 14 pieces of luggage to carry. Or pack lighter. Either way, just a few more fun lessons I thought I'd try to pass on to you all from my first year in Philadelphia. Even if I never learned to leave on time, maybe next time you are living a 7 minute walk from a train station, you will be able to do so.

On getting degrees

As it turns out, masters theses don't write themselves. Even when the rest of the things going on in your life have overwhelmed you to the point at which you are barely keeping a head above water, the proposal for your IRB application is likely to stubbornly remain unwritten. Contrary to popular belief, ideas for them tend not to jump out in front of your waving a big read sign saying, "Do this! It will be so fun and eventually you will publish the results in the Archives of General Psychiatry!" No, instead the ideas tend to stay pretty clear of you... you actually will most likely have to pick up a computer mouse and search some journals.

Yes, it seems unfair to me too, but I'm just letting you know some things I have learned.

Hiatus Explanation Numero Dos

Apparently, being a graduate student takes work. Weird I know, but true. Between my practicum assessments, research responsibilities, Master's thesis IRB application, and writing up and re-submitting the results of my Honors Thesis from undergrad, my overall school/work responsibilities have markedly increased as of late. Not to mention the fact that I have a always-ready-to-hang-out best friend who is new to the city and ready to be shown around pretty much at all hours of the day. So between these 2 "responsibilities," I'm pretty much "workin'" 8am-2am Su-Thurs and similar hours but different shifts Friday and Saturday. Needless to say, other things I would normally be doing have fallen by the wayside...

Luckily though, between my very important meetings, I have had the chance to scribble some random notes on scrap paper about some of those invaluable lessons I've learned in the past year. The act of jotting down random ideas on whatever I could find made me feel like a real writer. If only I had old napkins, I could have felt like a songwriter... but maybe next time. Either way, I hope to soon have these thoughts transcribed here. Just hang in there folks... your invaluable advice is on its way...

Here's a small tidbit to hold you over until then:

"Don't eat yellow snow." - Chandler Bing

Its the end of an era... ya might say!

Well folks, it appears that the transition from Year 1 Philadelphia Experience to Year 2 Philadelphia Experience is now complete and as would be required by many of the organized life changing events I've been through (e.g., PPI camp, where high schoolers head off into the woods for a few days to share experiences and do team building stuff; my Alternative Spring Break trips to Honduras and Panama, etc.), I've completed a succint summary of this transition... with a bit of a trailer.

Year 1 Philadelphia Experience (The Closure)

Last night I went back to the East Falls abode (pictured left) for the official ceremony: the turning-in-of-the-keys. I did the dramatic walk through the empty room... sobbed uncontrollably and listened to the echo reverberate across the hardwood floors... okay, not really... I mean, that room is clearly too small for an echo. After I had composed myself, my next move was obvious. Holly and I headed down to the local watering hole (Billy Murphy's Irish Saloon, or "Murphy's," if you will) to drown my sorrows with a few beers and buffalo chicken sandwiches.

Year 2 Philadelphia Experience (New beginings)

I am now fully settled into the new apartment with this crazy new roommate and even though she drives me nuts, she sometimes makes me delicious dinners, so it all works out. As if to fully complete the transition, the pictures that we ordered from Snapfish were delivered today so by the time of our housewarming party tomorrow, the personalization of our walls will be complete. For everyone who visits, expect a plethora of pictures from the olden days. For those who can't handle the anticipation, I've included one example here.

Overall Thoughts:

I'm normally a pretty reflective person, so maybe you can imagine the excessive amounts of thinking I've done in the past few days. Here are some of the thoughts I've come up with: How crazy it is that I'm living in downtown Philly with a girl I met in preschool?! How cool is it that I can roll out of bed and be at the bottom of the Rocky steps? And most importantly, how can so many changes occur in just one year in just one life?

What I've Learned:

One thing is for sure, I have encountered more new and sometimes difficult situations in this year than I have in probably my entire life. Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing, because I'm pretty sure I've learned more as a result of events of the past year than the rest of my life events combined. And maybe... just maybe... once I've wrapped my brain a bit more around what these life lessons actually are... I'll share a few in some delightfully witty posts.

So, here is my tagline:

Looking for wisdom and guidance on ways to live (and not live) your life? Believe you can learn something from a random 23-year old who has live in Philadelphia for a year? Then stay tuned...

A port in the storm

Ohh... symbolism. I'm pretty sure you can take most anything in your life and make it somehow fit into some symbolic respresentation of your life. Seriously.

For instance, I drove around the parking lot a million times today and still couldn't find a parking spot which is clearly symbolic of my inability to find a master's thesis topic. Also, the fact that I almost turned down a one-way street must symbolize my sometimes confused nature, and the fact that in a past life, I almost took a turn for the worst.

If you simply look around, you will see that there are signs everywhere. Phoebe knows it. She saw the signs in the FRIENDS episode where she found her mom's spirit in the body of a random cat:

Ross: Are you sure she's in the cat, or have you been taking your grandma's glaucoma medicine again?

Phoebe: No, Dr. Skeptizmo, I'm sure. First of all, okay, there's the feeling. Okay, and for another, how about the fact that she went into my guitar case... which is lined with orange felt. My mother's favorite fish is Orange Roughy. Cats like fish! Hi, Mommy. Oh, I haven't seen this smile in 17 years!

Even back in high school we were always looking for "signs." Usually it involved the boy we liked at the time and seeing his number on, well, anything! You would be writing down the phone number for the bank (e.g., 248-343-0494) and, "Omg! Its Brian's football number!" So what if his number was 2, that clearly meant that he and Amy were meant to be...

Well, if objects and events in life are in any way symbolic of life itself, then my new apartment clearly represents new beginnings. I've only lived here a week, but things at work and at practicum have been coming together, ideas for my master's thesis have started to take form in my head, and the study I am coordinating is moving along at acceptable speeds. Oh, and my 1/2 marathon training is going better than ever. Yes, I do believe the apartment is a symbolic representation of how things are falling into place... hmmmm yeah... or the cause of it, but lets not get technical.

One final example of symbolism has just presented itself to me. In a google image search for a picture to go with this post, I stumbled across the above picture. I mean, speaking of good signs... I'll take it.

The tale of a genius

Ever feel like parts of your life were snatched right out of a movie? On occasion, I get that feeling. Its usually when I do something stupid, and I feel I've become one of those dumb characters in the movie that people are laughing at instead of with. Just recently, there was a moment in my life where this seemed to be the case. Right out of a knee-slappin' comedy, I'd say.

I was moving stuff into my new apartment (details on that to come soon) and I had smartly stacked several items on a rolling cart. I had chairs, several boxes, and several hanging items on the bar, so the whole cart was rather full and you really can't see past it much. So... I was pushing it, we will say briskly, down the hallway and someone made a comment about my wonderful stacking skills. I exclaimed, "I know! I'm a genius!" Not 2 seconds later, we all heard BAM!

I swear that TV stand came out of nowhere. No worries though, things stayed stacked and the TV stand received minimal, if any, damage (it wasn't ours anyways). However, the laughter that ensued and still occurs when the event is recalled will live on... like any part of a good comedy...

Biking 6 countries in a month... doesn't even sound entertaining at all...

I really love sarcasm sometimes. When done correctly, it really is a sound for sore ears (does that phrase work in this context?... I hope so). Anyway, a recent quote from the blog of my good friend Carol (who is on a solo bike trip from Helsinki to Berlin) reminded me of my strong affection for sarcasm.

(on biking in Estonia)

"I followed the bike paths which are, thank god, in the middle of traffic. If having cars able to hit you on one side isn't scary enough having it on both sides just adds to the adventure."

Good use of sarcasm, Carol. I applaud you.

I will also take this opportunity to wish Carol a pleasant journey. Not luck though, she doesn't need it. Just pure stamina... and plenty of popsicles. Like I said above though, I pity her. I mean, traveling through a new area of the world on bicycle, where you have to see the countryside and get the chance to meet tons of people. Sounds terrible. Yuck. I just feel lucky that I'm not there...
To read about Carol's travels, go to the 'How Did I Get Here?" link.

No pain no gain

Pain is rarely fun. In fact, I'll even go as far as to say it sucks. However, there are a few good things about experiencing pain. One of which is the feeling of improvement that occurs after something really painful.

How did I stumble across this epiphany? I'll tell ya, it came at a hefty price. I was going down the stairs to do some laundry. Okay, not just going, I was running, because clearly, you have to run when doing laundry late on a Saturday night. At the bottom of the stairs was some innocent-looking wooden chest-thing. In my mad rush to get to the washer (you know, before anyone else in the empty house jumped in front of me), I smashed my knee on it. I'm talkin' hard. Like instant and overwhelming shooting pains running up and down my entire body that made me wonder if perhaps I had been stabbed in the kneecap. The throbbing madness gave no grace period either, and within seconds the inevitable bump had risen and I'm pretty sure it was still growing 20 minutes later. Next thing I know, I am immobilized on the stupid chest saying several choice words over and over.

This substantial amount of pain lasted about a minute or so, although it felt more like 20. But then, something incredible started to happen.... the pain started to lessen. As the pain subsided, I felt relief, and saw a light at the end of my dark tunnel. And it made me think, even if I can't appreciate feelings of pain, at least I can appreciate the feeling of improvement.

Its the same deal with other types of pain and suffering as well. Like the relief when you are really sick and your fever finally breaks. Or when you are hungover and you begin to be able to keep down food and water again. Or after something really devastating happens, you eventually begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel and you realize that everything really will be alright.

So in keeping with the theme of trying to make the best of any situation, I will also try to see the best in experiencing pain. Although I am not quite to the point where I can actualy enjoy feeling pain, atleast soon after, I can appreciate the feelings that follow. If you can take solace in improvements, you might just be well on your way. And who knows, maybe one day I'll smash the heck out of my knee again, and relish in the pain of the entire experience from begining to end.

For all concerned parties, my knee is significantly better, just pretty bruised. However, I did have to move all of my stuff into the new apartment today, so the timing was less than ideal. Lets just say that moving with my mini-limp has, if nothing else, been an interesting adventure...

Friesland 2008: Final Chapter

I read through my journal from my trip last night for the first time.

Apparently, its possible for me to write and have almost no memory of physically writing the words. Reading back, I found some of the things I had written surprising and others amusing. I copied one example entry here.

June 30th, 2008

Do they know I'm not Dutch?

Can they tell from my timid "Hoi" (Hi in Frisian, not sure of spelling) that that is the only word I know in Friese, and that I only know about 5 words in Dutch (bier being one, of course).

As I walk by farms, I find myself wondering if the horses know the truth. One horse even walked alongside me on the fence, sizing me up and assessing my Dutchness, I think. I'm pretty sure the ponytail is a dead giveaway because I have yet to see many Dutch people wear their hair like that. The blonde hair and semi-tallness does help me fit in a bit, but I'm just not sure its enough. My attire is probably not helping much either, as I'm wearing running pants and an American workout shirt... hmm...

Alright, first of all.... what?! Who wrote that? I was clearly in my own little world of solitude and perhaps missing human conversation so I made up the thoughts of a horse. It makes me wonder, if I have strange thoughts like that after half a day wandering alone, what kinds of things would I think about if I was in a shipwreck and stuck in a deserted island situation...? Like Tom Hanks, I too would probably make friends with inanimate objects... and who knows what else! Honestly, I think it might be better if we never find that out...

In all seriousness though, reading through my journal makes me really glad that I do write. I like going back and reading about thoughts and feelings I had completely forgotten. Sometimes it is informative, to remember an event, date, or feeling that you had. Other times it is inspiring, as it allows you to see how far you've come. But no matter what, it is documented, and therefore more solidified in existence. And I like that.

With amazing vacations like this one, it is hard to hold on to all the feelings you had when you were there as you settle back into your regular routine. Documenting them as soon as possible seems to be the best way to hold on to the memories. These chapters have been my meager attempt to record just a few of my experiences. I just hope you have enjoyed reading them half as much as I've enjoyed writing them... and experiencing them of course. :)

Friesland 2008: Chapter 5 - Fierljeppen

What do you get when you cross a very muscular Frisian, a very long pole, and a lot of athletic ability? I know some of you ladies got excited, but I'm sorry, the answer is actually not a very entertaining dance at a male strip club. No, I am actually referring to my new favorite sport: Fierljeppen.

Fierljeppen is a Frisian sport in which athletes sprint several meters, do a flying leap off of a dock onto a very long pole, proceed to climb quickly up the pole whilst trying to keep it centered and moving in a forward direction, and then pushing off of the pole on the the other side of a canal, with distance from the canal being the main objective. Sound easy? Didn't think so...

In fact, we learned from talking with people at the event that like most any major sport, kids start training at a very young age. Fierljeppers are considered to be very diverse and all-around athletes, because of the variety of athletic skills they must have, including strength, coordination, and balance.

Although fierljeppen is currently most popular in Friesland, there are also smaller scale competitions all over the world. According to wikipedia, the sport was on the 12th season of the Amazing Race, but there was called ditch-vaulting. This site also told me that the world record is currently 20.76 meters. Impressive! The video below shows one of the best jumps at the competition we went to. I can't remember what his jump was, but as you can see, he was pretty excited about it, so I'm guessing it was pretty far.

Note: Please tilt head slowly and carefully to left to view the video. Please don't hurt yourself. You have been warned.

Picture credits go to Carol Bontekoe, of Bontekoe Tours (Tour Motto: We Hook You Up).

Friesland 2008: Chapter 4 - A lone wolf

After a fun-filled weekend came some time in which I was to entertain myself. Carol warned me about this before I booked my ticket. She told me she would have to work during the weekdays and I would need to find things to do during that time. I wasn't worried though. I figured I would enjoy the solitude, and boy was I right. I think most would agree that I'm a fairly social person, but during this trip I realized how truly great it is to have the freedom to do whatever it is you want to do, at all times!

Tuesday afternoon was especially nice. I went down to the local bike shop and rented a nice touring bike. Just 8 euros for a beautiful day of sun and biking. I strapped my bag onto the back and headed off, literally, without a plan in the world, just the way I like it.

I stopped at a beach, checked it out for a few minutes, but because I felt like continuing down the road, I did. Seems no one else had any input into the matter.

I rode 20 km to the village of Stavoren and because I was hungry, stopped at a grocery store for some snacks. Then because I felt like reading, I found a quiet spot to park my bike, and enjoyed my apple, Sensations chips, and raw green beans while I read my book Me Speak Pretty One Day. When I was satisfied, I packed everything back up and carried on, again without any objections.

I started the 20 km ride back to Rinia State. This time when I passed the beach, I was tired, and felt like laying on the beach for a while and reading some more so guess what? Yup, you guessed it, thats exactly what I did.

I think everyone deserves to have time to themselves, to do whatever it is they want, at various points in their lives. Be it for an hour in the mornings, an entire Saturday, or two weeks in the Netherlands, it is certainly a empowering and revitalizing experience and I would highly recommend it.

Friesland 2008: Chapter 3 - Wadlopen

7:00am Saturday morning (1:00am Eastern Standard Time). Carol's silouette is towering over my floor-bound bed. My head is pounding from caffeine withdrawal. The time has come... to go... wadlopen.

What is this strange word, you ask? Well, being a newfound expert on the passtime, I will enlighten you. Wadlopen is also known as mudflat hiking, and it involves waiting until the tide is low and then trudging through mud and often high waters until your heart is content. People sometimes go and do hikes all the way to islands off the northern coast of the Netherlands and these hikes can be as long as 26 km!

When Carol first proposed the activity to me, I was immediately on board. However, when she, I, and her parents arrived to the meeting spot that morning, none of us knew what to expect, and a few party members were second-guessing the decision. After a well-needed cup o' joe though, our go-get-em attitudes kicked in and we decided to go for it. So we started our 7 km (baby version of wadlopen, but still admirable!) hike across the ocean floor...

Although Carol later admitted having doubts early in the hike, I felt the opposite. Once my shoe sunk into the squishy mud for the first time, I was hooked. Looking back, I don't know why I ever doubted my enjoyment of this activity. Running around in mud and water has always been a favorite passtime of mine. In fact, the whole thing was somehow very reminiscent of my hike in the narrows of Zion National Park that I took with my dad a while back. There is something about playing around in mud and water that makes me feel one with nature, I suppose. Like that hike, the memory of my wadlopen experience will stay with me for a very long time.

Importantly, the hike provided time for Carol and I to continue to bond, and plan a 5 year reunion for the group that went to Honduras together. It was becoming quite clear that our travel compatibility extends beyond small villages in Central America to Europe and presumably other locations. Although we are still in the brainstorming stages, consider this your warning Hondos, save that money and the date! 2011 reunion baby!

Friesland 2008: Chapter 2 - Thanks for showing me this cool mansion, now lets head home...

After consuming the raw herring, Carol tells me we are heading back to her house to have dinner with the family she works for (she is an au pair). Soon she pulls her POLO into a long driveway. As we approach the house, my jet-lagged mind becomes a bit confused. She said we are meeting the family for dinner soon, yet we seem to be making a tourist stop. We have pulled up in front of an amazing estate on a huge piece of property. I thought to myself, 'Cool mansion Carol, but didn't you say we have to get back to the house to meet them for dinner?' To my dismay, I notice Carol parking the car and grabbing my backpack. This confuses me even more. Did she reserve a room at some fancy bed and breakfast? Are we staying here for a night? 'Well' I think to myself, 'I guess thats cool but I wish she'd have told me.' I finally find my voice, so I ask for an explanation.

As it turned out, and you may have guessed, this is where she lives! She showed me to her living quarters, which can be found in the back of the house. I quickly settled in to the bi-level apartment she lives in, complete with a mini-kitchen, living and dining room area, and two bedrooms.

A little later I was taken into the main house, where I was warmly welcomed by Carol's boss Ellen as she prepares dinner (an amazing chicken, spinach, and pasta dish) and offers me a seat. Soon it is a packed table, with me, Ellen, Carol, her parents who were also visiting at that time, 2 of the 4 kids (other 2 to come into the plot later), and a bit later, Carol's other boss, Rob. We sit and chat in English about our travels thus far, the house, the kids, and various other topics. After dinner they bring out various flavors of Kwark and Vol, which are types of yogurt they usually eat after dinners and some lunches.

As I try everything placed in front of me (the American way, right?), I looked around and smile to myself. To use a little "Dutch English" that I picked up during my trip, I was already "much excited" about my temporary home...

Currently, now that I'm back in Philly, I am thoroughly enjoying the looks on people's faces when I pull out the postcard I purchased in Oudemirdum (the name of the village where Carol lives), that features the Rinia State, to show people where I stayed in the Netherlands. The expressions they've made and their insightful comments like, 'thats a postcard,' have been utterly priceless.