Well, at least the spiced persimmon chutney was a hit! Nick and Barb inherited the persimmons (think: bastard child of a tomato and an apple) from a neighbor and passed them on to Aunt Beth because they didn't want to mess with them (who subsequently passed them on to me for the same reason). Always one to rise to a challenge, I found the recipe online, and with Alisha's help, a new Thanksgiving tradition was born? Perhaps.
That's about the only good news to report on the weekend, aside from the fact that I invited an out-of-towner coworker to partake in the festivities with my crazy family, and he, like the naive good sport that he was, humored me and came over. So that's the moral of the story: alcohol always makes things better!
Friday, November 27, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Peace Corps
I'm going to French-speaking Africa to teach English and ride a bike in July. Assuming I can get medically cleared. I began the medical adventure today...trying to land as many cheap or free doctor's appointments as I can (you hear that Keith Olbermann? you bringing your free clinics to Portland anytime soon?). So far, I've got a free dentist appointment out of this Peace Corps business. Wahoo! One down, a few more to go. I'm not giving up hope because I can't, being the Obama-loving yet un-insured cheap American bastard that I currently am.
Leaving for the Peace Corps so soon will be just the fire under my butt I need to get out there and discover Portland, pay off the bills, and have a good time with friends between now and then. Like last Thursday night, I went out with my cousin, some coworkers, and some old college friends. We hit up Scandals and CC Slaughter's (gay Portland, I love you so!), where I had a brush with celebrity: I was shimmying next to Beau Breedlove, the former lover of Sam Adams, mayor of Portland! Some (crazy?) lady on the Max tonight was asking if there were any Oregon voters afoot who wanted to recall Sam Adams. I didn't even look up from my Obama book. Politicians have been sleazing and sleeping around for hundreds of years, this is no reason to call for a resignation. In fact, we should be commending Sam Adams: Beau Breedlove's hot!
Happy Thanksgiving one and all. This weekend promises to be full of emotion and alcohol, hopefully mixing together into a balanced elixir of good and crazy times!
Leaving for the Peace Corps so soon will be just the fire under my butt I need to get out there and discover Portland, pay off the bills, and have a good time with friends between now and then. Like last Thursday night, I went out with my cousin, some coworkers, and some old college friends. We hit up Scandals and CC Slaughter's (gay Portland, I love you so!), where I had a brush with celebrity: I was shimmying next to Beau Breedlove, the former lover of Sam Adams, mayor of Portland! Some (crazy?) lady on the Max tonight was asking if there were any Oregon voters afoot who wanted to recall Sam Adams. I didn't even look up from my Obama book. Politicians have been sleazing and sleeping around for hundreds of years, this is no reason to call for a resignation. In fact, we should be commending Sam Adams: Beau Breedlove's hot!
Happy Thanksgiving one and all. This weekend promises to be full of emotion and alcohol, hopefully mixing together into a balanced elixir of good and crazy times!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
La Nouvelle Generation Perdue
"...all generations were lost by something and always had been and always would be..." -Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
You can say that again! Hey, looks like someone already did (looks like Dan Schmitz is running with an awesome crowd: he can identify with the likes of Princeton the puppet and me!). I can name at least 6 friends who are A. college graduates, B. back living with 'the folks' (or 'grand-folks'), and C. currently looking for a job or are presently underemployed. We can spend our time getting angry at the economy for screwing us over (hello! we have degrees! shouldn't we be squeaking by the uneducated folk? or are our degrees our enemies right now: potential employers know we'll bolt as soon as things pick up and we can move on up?), or maybe we need to just grin and bear it and do the best we can. Perhaps that won't be in the US: this economy is driving a lot of people to look for gigs overseas. This in itself is a good thing; hey, is the crappy economy actually encouraging globalization? (Some economist somewhere should look into that...) I'm definitely a part of that exodus: I'm doing a phone interview for the Peace Corps next week!
Maybe I sound a little too sunny, but I've always been an optimist. And fortunately (read: miraculously), just when things were beginning to look really bleak, I got a job (and my first day of training was on Veteran's Day, no less...tying back into that lost generation thing...everything's connected...). Let me repeat that incredible news: I got a joerghb!! After only about a month of looking, and it's a great job too: I'm not flipping burgers, folding shirts, or dressed like an elf and to top it all off, it's actually a resume-builder--something that ties into my future career goals! Many have said that I'm lucky. I'm becoming more and more aware of that.
Meanwhile, I'm eating my way through the world, in a very Portland way: food carts!! I read about them last year in the New York Times article (here, if you insist, but I'm sure anyone who's anyone has already seen it, and I already linked to it on facebook), but had never eaten at them, until now! Yesterday it was a chicken schnitzelwich at a Czech cart, and today it was an old favorite: a lamb gyros at a Greek cart. I'm also 'eating' A Moveable Feast right now, and even though I'm slightly less than halfway done, it has already skyrocketed to '2nd-favorite-book-of-all-time' status. The title is perfect: it's chewy. Each chapter is a delicious morsel; a combination of romantic Parisian reminiscences and frank 'here's how I did it' advice on being a writer. Anyone who's been to Paris, is planning a trip there, or just loves the city of love needs to read this book! (I've especially been remembering lazy sunny days spent lounging next to the Rhone last year in good company with delicious wine and insanely incredible food...Steve, Zandra, Lauren, Zandra, Ruth, Becky, Cotes du Rhone, big fat cherries, goat cheese: you know who you are!)
Hemingway's famous admonition to "write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know" is contained therein, among others. That, in concert with the professions of Project Runway contestants, encourages me. Writing isn't my profession, but it's my passion, and I know I'll always be doing this, even after long days at work (couldn't resist mentioning my fabulous job! yet again!), in the middle of the night, and with no loftier goals than personal satisfaction.
I read on the bus and Max to work and home again. Talk about a typical Portland experience! Riding Trimet you see a true cross-section of society: poor people, environmentally-conscious people, (not mutually exclusive categories, btw), knitting people, reading people, people grooving to their iPods, smelly people, drunk people, commuters, high school kids, thugs, hipsters, bicyclists, their bikes, families. Working downtown, commuting on public transportation: I love feeling like a Portlander in a realer way than I ever have before!
You can say that again! Hey, looks like someone already did (looks like Dan Schmitz is running with an awesome crowd: he can identify with the likes of Princeton the puppet and me!). I can name at least 6 friends who are A. college graduates, B. back living with 'the folks' (or 'grand-folks'), and C. currently looking for a job or are presently underemployed. We can spend our time getting angry at the economy for screwing us over (hello! we have degrees! shouldn't we be squeaking by the uneducated folk? or are our degrees our enemies right now: potential employers know we'll bolt as soon as things pick up and we can move on up?), or maybe we need to just grin and bear it and do the best we can. Perhaps that won't be in the US: this economy is driving a lot of people to look for gigs overseas. This in itself is a good thing; hey, is the crappy economy actually encouraging globalization? (Some economist somewhere should look into that...) I'm definitely a part of that exodus: I'm doing a phone interview for the Peace Corps next week!
Maybe I sound a little too sunny, but I've always been an optimist. And fortunately (read: miraculously), just when things were beginning to look really bleak, I got a job (and my first day of training was on Veteran's Day, no less...tying back into that lost generation thing...everything's connected...). Let me repeat that incredible news: I got a joerghb!! After only about a month of looking, and it's a great job too: I'm not flipping burgers, folding shirts, or dressed like an elf and to top it all off, it's actually a resume-builder--something that ties into my future career goals! Many have said that I'm lucky. I'm becoming more and more aware of that.
Meanwhile, I'm eating my way through the world, in a very Portland way: food carts!! I read about them last year in the New York Times article (here, if you insist, but I'm sure anyone who's anyone has already seen it, and I already linked to it on facebook), but had never eaten at them, until now! Yesterday it was a chicken schnitzelwich at a Czech cart, and today it was an old favorite: a lamb gyros at a Greek cart. I'm also 'eating' A Moveable Feast right now, and even though I'm slightly less than halfway done, it has already skyrocketed to '2nd-favorite-book-of-all-time' status. The title is perfect: it's chewy. Each chapter is a delicious morsel; a combination of romantic Parisian reminiscences and frank 'here's how I did it' advice on being a writer. Anyone who's been to Paris, is planning a trip there, or just loves the city of love needs to read this book! (I've especially been remembering lazy sunny days spent lounging next to the Rhone last year in good company with delicious wine and insanely incredible food...Steve, Zandra, Lauren, Zandra, Ruth, Becky, Cotes du Rhone, big fat cherries, goat cheese: you know who you are!)
Hemingway's famous admonition to "write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know" is contained therein, among others. That, in concert with the professions of Project Runway contestants, encourages me. Writing isn't my profession, but it's my passion, and I know I'll always be doing this, even after long days at work (couldn't resist mentioning my fabulous job! yet again!), in the middle of the night, and with no loftier goals than personal satisfaction.
I read on the bus and Max to work and home again. Talk about a typical Portland experience! Riding Trimet you see a true cross-section of society: poor people, environmentally-conscious people, (not mutually exclusive categories, btw), knitting people, reading people, people grooving to their iPods, smelly people, drunk people, commuters, high school kids, thugs, hipsters, bicyclists, their bikes, families. Working downtown, commuting on public transportation: I love feeling like a Portlander in a realer way than I ever have before!
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
On turning 24
Happy Guy Fawkes Day everybody in England. Happy Birthday, me!
Am I where I thought I would be at 24? When I graduated from high school 6 1/2 years ago, did I imagine I would be living with my mom, in a house on the Columbia in Portland, scrambling for a job (as opposed to starting a career), at this age? In a word, HELL NO!!! Honestly, I can't remember what I was thinking then...I was vaguely planning on going the Dolphin Trainer route, but I must have known that wasn't going to last because I don't remember having any real concrete forecasts of my early-mid 20's.
I remember figuring out years in advance how old I would be when 2000 hit...(14, woohoo!)..., but I haven't been so preoccupied about 2010 (apparently, I'll be 24). My biggest timeline-related goal has been to fill up my passport with visas and stamps before it expires in 2013 (assuming we all make it past 2012-were those loco Mayans right?). I've also spent much of the last 6 1/2 years obsessing about 'being successful' by my 10 year high school reunion, which I realize now is a pretty arbitrary benchmark. 10 years out from high school I have a feeling I'll just be getting started. 'Pretty arbitrary benchmark' and also: 'aiming low.' Compared to my high school peers, I'm already kicking ass. :) Time to aim higher...
I'm 24 years old and I've been to 16 countries (not including the US) on 5 continents (N. America included). I certainly hadn't foreseen that. President Barack Obama has been to 15 countries in his first year in office. Compared to the POTUS, I've got a long way to go. Australia and Antarctica, here I come! It's all about perspective. Hmm, new life goal: join this.
I'm not the only one of my friends who's back living with the 'rents post-college. We're redefining success. Successful in your 20-somethings is no longer working a crap entry-level job at your dream company with aims of clawing your way to the top. Success is bumming off your parents, working a crap entry-level job that has nothing to do with your degree or future aspirations, and enjoying every day for what is it. Rock, rock on.
I'm not Oliver Wilde, John Keats, Chris McCandless (thank goodness!), Rihanna, Mark Zuckerberg, or any other freakishly talented, freakishly awesome young person. But I AM Annette McAwesome: traveler extraordinaire, student of life, cool-ass bitch. I'm 1 in a million, er, 6 1/2 billion, if you will. :)
SO, to sum up? Jobless and looking, carless and (trying to be) content (the western US is not Western Europe, public transportation- or other-wise), planning my next adventure (possibly Vietnam for 5-7+ weeks next June-July-August, and then *hopefully* the Peace Corps sometime next fall). I'm giving myself a 12-month limit back in the states-by no later than September 22, 2010, I'm outta here. There's just too much to see and no babies, terminal diseases, or significant others to tie me down (knock on wood). :)
I don't want to be one of those people who says: "I always wish I had done X, Y and Z." I want to be one of those people who says: "Yeah, I did X, Y, and Z. No big deal. I also did A-W too! Tell you about it? I haven't the time. Read my book!"
Off to celebrate. Tonight was good: 2 new McMenamin's locations (Ringlers and the St. John's theater, if you insist) and Henry's, which I hadn't realized I had already been to with Megan and her hs friend. I hope at some point this weekend I have (another) occasion to say: "Another pitcher of Puby, Snakes! And make it snappy, it's my motherfuckin' birthday!"
As Courtney has predicted, 24 is going to be my action year! Bring. it. ON!
Am I where I thought I would be at 24? When I graduated from high school 6 1/2 years ago, did I imagine I would be living with my mom, in a house on the Columbia in Portland, scrambling for a job (as opposed to starting a career), at this age? In a word, HELL NO!!! Honestly, I can't remember what I was thinking then...I was vaguely planning on going the Dolphin Trainer route, but I must have known that wasn't going to last because I don't remember having any real concrete forecasts of my early-mid 20's.
I remember figuring out years in advance how old I would be when 2000 hit...(14, woohoo!)..., but I haven't been so preoccupied about 2010 (apparently, I'll be 24). My biggest timeline-related goal has been to fill up my passport with visas and stamps before it expires in 2013 (assuming we all make it past 2012-were those loco Mayans right?). I've also spent much of the last 6 1/2 years obsessing about 'being successful' by my 10 year high school reunion, which I realize now is a pretty arbitrary benchmark. 10 years out from high school I have a feeling I'll just be getting started. 'Pretty arbitrary benchmark' and also: 'aiming low.' Compared to my high school peers, I'm already kicking ass. :) Time to aim higher...
I'm 24 years old and I've been to 16 countries (not including the US) on 5 continents (N. America included). I certainly hadn't foreseen that. President Barack Obama has been to 15 countries in his first year in office. Compared to the POTUS, I've got a long way to go. Australia and Antarctica, here I come! It's all about perspective. Hmm, new life goal: join this.
I'm not the only one of my friends who's back living with the 'rents post-college. We're redefining success. Successful in your 20-somethings is no longer working a crap entry-level job at your dream company with aims of clawing your way to the top. Success is bumming off your parents, working a crap entry-level job that has nothing to do with your degree or future aspirations, and enjoying every day for what is it. Rock, rock on.
I'm not Oliver Wilde, John Keats, Chris McCandless (thank goodness!), Rihanna, Mark Zuckerberg, or any other freakishly talented, freakishly awesome young person. But I AM Annette McAwesome: traveler extraordinaire, student of life, cool-ass bitch. I'm 1 in a million, er, 6 1/2 billion, if you will. :)
SO, to sum up? Jobless and looking, carless and (trying to be) content (the western US is not Western Europe, public transportation- or other-wise), planning my next adventure (possibly Vietnam for 5-7+ weeks next June-July-August, and then *hopefully* the Peace Corps sometime next fall). I'm giving myself a 12-month limit back in the states-by no later than September 22, 2010, I'm outta here. There's just too much to see and no babies, terminal diseases, or significant others to tie me down (knock on wood). :)
I don't want to be one of those people who says: "I always wish I had done X, Y and Z." I want to be one of those people who says: "Yeah, I did X, Y, and Z. No big deal. I also did A-W too! Tell you about it? I haven't the time. Read my book!"
Off to celebrate. Tonight was good: 2 new McMenamin's locations (Ringlers and the St. John's theater, if you insist) and Henry's, which I hadn't realized I had already been to with Megan and her hs friend. I hope at some point this weekend I have (another) occasion to say: "Another pitcher of Puby, Snakes! And make it snappy, it's my motherfuckin' birthday!"
As Courtney has predicted, 24 is going to be my action year! Bring. it. ON!
Monday, November 02, 2009
Yeah, fuck that!
"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future." -Chris McCandless, in Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild (emphasis mine)
Word. THAT'S why I don't have a job right now. I'm nurturing my adventurous spirit, thank you very much. (...This year is going to be very trying, I can tell...) Adventure here I come! Relatedly, working on the next step of the Peace Corps application at the moment. Work it out! In unrelated news: I went to yet another McMenamin's today - Oregon City, check!
Word. THAT'S why I don't have a job right now. I'm nurturing my adventurous spirit, thank you very much. (...This year is going to be very trying, I can tell...) Adventure here I come! Relatedly, working on the next step of the Peace Corps application at the moment. Work it out! In unrelated news: I went to yet another McMenamin's today - Oregon City, check!
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Apples!
I'm getting Oregon shit done! On Thursday cuzzie Alisha and I drove up to Hood River. We picked out lots of interesting types of apples (the 'hidden rose' is red inside!) with which to make apple sauce! Then we tasted some wine at Wy'East Vineyards...delicious, locally owned and operated, and I got to pretend like I know a thing or two about wine (and I learned a thing or two too...so that makes, a thing or four?). I love the NW! The next morning we made some awesome applesauce...only 10 quarts (my mom and aunt said their record from when they were kids is 120-odd quarts in one day), but we didn't have any cheap child labor handy.
Last night I went out downtown for Halloween with Alison and Hannah. We hit up some old favorite haunts (Portland City Grill, where I felt uncomfortable...a classy joint like that wasn't quite the place for this skanky pirate wench, and Kell's, a great but expensive place, where I got my Irish on to Amadan), and discovered a new place: Kelly's, right next to the giant purple octopus. Cheapish (in all senses of the word, so I felt right at home), with lots of 'interesting' characters. I liked the IT geek, which, as it turned out, wasn't a costume but his actual clothes! Oops! My bad!
In other news:
~I still haven't found a job. Not for lack of trying. But I've got a lead I'm going to check out tomorrow... Also, I've decided not to place my perceptions of self-worth on whether or not I have a job. I'm awesome, employed or otherwise!
~This is my 42nd blog post this year. In 2008 I only wrote 21 posts. So I've doubled my output. It seems vaguely important. Maybe next year I'll double it again. 84 posts! Here's hoping 84 interesting things happen to me in 2010. ...
~My birthday's coming up this week. I think I'm officially old...I don't care about birthdays anymore! Maybe it's just because it snuck up on me this year, and I don't feel like I deserve a good birthday. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous. Meh. C'est la vie.
Last night I went out downtown for Halloween with Alison and Hannah. We hit up some old favorite haunts (Portland City Grill, where I felt uncomfortable...a classy joint like that wasn't quite the place for this skanky pirate wench, and Kell's, a great but expensive place, where I got my Irish on to Amadan), and discovered a new place: Kelly's, right next to the giant purple octopus. Cheapish (in all senses of the word, so I felt right at home), with lots of 'interesting' characters. I liked the IT geek, which, as it turned out, wasn't a costume but his actual clothes! Oops! My bad!
In other news:
~I still haven't found a job. Not for lack of trying. But I've got a lead I'm going to check out tomorrow... Also, I've decided not to place my perceptions of self-worth on whether or not I have a job. I'm awesome, employed or otherwise!
~This is my 42nd blog post this year. In 2008 I only wrote 21 posts. So I've doubled my output. It seems vaguely important. Maybe next year I'll double it again. 84 posts! Here's hoping 84 interesting things happen to me in 2010. ...
~My birthday's coming up this week. I think I'm officially old...I don't care about birthdays anymore! Maybe it's just because it snuck up on me this year, and I don't feel like I deserve a good birthday. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous. Meh. C'est la vie.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
McMenamin's, a NW institution
Continuing to check off typical Portland experiences on my list (inherited tickets for August: Osage County, a play at Keller Auditorium, for which Alisha and I got all dolled up...thanks Nancy!), McMenamin's must be mentioned! This last week I went to 3 different Mac locations, none of which I'd been to before, all of which were in downtown! I started with the Ram's Head on 23rd with cuzzie Alisha on Wednesday, checked out the Market St. Pub with Hannah and Megan on Thursday night after we went to a grad school fair at PSU (it's SO happening for me...someday...), where we shamelessly flirted with 'Snakes' the server, and rounded off the week at the Mission Theater last night with my mom, part of the OSU marching band, and other Beaver fans and alum watching the dismal game v. USC on the big screen, and using the pounding as an excuse to drink more! I even gave my number to a girl who was acting on behalf of her really shy friend, who looked old enough to be my dad, but whatevs. My mom thinks she heard me gave the wrong number...well, I was drunk. So much the better. Sorry universe, I didn't purposely deceive!
Each time I went with 'buena gente' as Hannah says, or good people. Because that's what McMenamin's are all about. With Hannah and Megan, we even got a list of all locations and started checking them off...between the 3 of us, we want to hit them all up! We'll have to go as far north as Seattle, as far east as Bend, and as far south as Roseburg to do it, but we got this!
In other news, the job search continues. I've filled out more applications, and lost more self respect, with the end result of being employed hopefully coming soon! Next app: McMenamin's! :)
Each time I went with 'buena gente' as Hannah says, or good people. Because that's what McMenamin's are all about. With Hannah and Megan, we even got a list of all locations and started checking them off...between the 3 of us, we want to hit them all up! We'll have to go as far north as Seattle, as far east as Bend, and as far south as Roseburg to do it, but we got this!
In other news, the job search continues. I've filled out more applications, and lost more self respect, with the end result of being employed hopefully coming soon! Next app: McMenamin's! :)
Monday, October 19, 2009
Portland!
Ok, I just had a great weekend of typical Portland experiences: Powell's City of Books, where my mom and I sold some books back ($42 credit, woohoo!), and I applied for a seasonal job. We used the $ to buy 2 new releases/best sellers (I picked out Jon Krakauer's new book about Pat Tillman, and my mom bought Dan Brown's new rag). I also hung out in St. John's with Alison...a part of town I don't really know at all. Yesterday my friend Hannah and I went to a Portland Trailblazers (pre-season) game. There were some cute little kids about (I saw a 1' tall Greg Oden!) and, oh yeah, we won! Woohoo! The best part was we were smart enough to park on the street, where we serendipitously ran into Megan, (is Portland really that small?), and we weren't out $15, and we got out pretty quickly.
So, according to this, Portland is the 11th best city in the US to find the single guys (so jealous of Patrick in the ATL!). Awesome! Too bad I don't have a job or any money or success. How am I supposed to hook a catch? Maybe dressing up like a pirate for Halloween will be my ticket, though I fear they've been overdone. If the song by Norah Jones and freecreditreport.com commercials featuring pirates are any indication...
Portland's also one of the smartest cities around (9th most brilliant! Suck it Baltimore! Baltimore?). Hmm, is it wrong that I wish I were in a dumber city right now? Maybe I'd have a better time of finding a job! :)
So, according to this, Portland is the 11th best city in the US to find the single guys (so jealous of Patrick in the ATL!). Awesome! Too bad I don't have a job or any money or success. How am I supposed to hook a catch? Maybe dressing up like a pirate for Halloween will be my ticket, though I fear they've been overdone. If the song by Norah Jones and freecreditreport.com commercials featuring pirates are any indication...
Portland's also one of the smartest cities around (9th most brilliant! Suck it Baltimore! Baltimore?). Hmm, is it wrong that I wish I were in a dumber city right now? Maybe I'd have a better time of finding a job! :)
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Back
Being back has been...interesting. Is there anything more deflating than being on the job market? I'm having trouble with the whole "I'm-looking-for-a-job-which-means-I-don't-currently-have-one-which-(in America at least)-means-I'm-a-sub-par-human-being" thing. I read the current copy of the Willamette Week in the MAX today and it told me that Oregon's unemployment (11.5%ish) is one of the highest around. But I still feel inadequate.
Also I'm living with my mom. The best part about that is drinking wine periodically, baking cookies, and watching Survivor together again (amazing how easily I can fall back into that, but it's a passion. Producers...you missed out!). The very best part is sleeping with Kucha. She's the cutest dog in the world, and I swear that being away from her for a whole year has exponentially increased my love for her. I've always been cautiously in love with her, but now it's all out-I hug her and kiss her (even though she licks my toes and various sundries off the ground), and don't even mind the dog smell anymore (much). The worst part is...I'm living 'at home' (even though I've never 'lived' here before, in this house, just visited), with all the nagging ('get a job!') and feelings of inadequacies that entails.
So even though I'm a complete pathetic loser, worthy of the 'pathetic loser' pants I almost didn't change out of at all yesterday, I'm still finding reasons to be optimistic, namely, the divine friends I've been reconnecting with, all across Portland. "I'm in Portland! Wow! I can't believe I'm in Portland!" I hear myself keep saying. A play at the Newmark Theater with Hannah (ok, ok, so The Laramie Project 10 years later isn't the happiest of pieces, but it was mindblowing, and amazing to be a part of something so big and cool and right), Rogue Brewery with Megan and Layna, and the Hawthorne district with Alisha, where I had very reactionary reactions against all the hipsters afoot. ENOUGH already with the vintage, the tight pants, the funky hair, the admittedly bitchin' tattoos, the macchiatos and the local pride! After thinking about why these harmless trendies were pissing me off so much, (-'really Annette, what's so wrong with local pride, when your local is Portland, OR??' -'true fact, inner reasonable self') I think it had something to do with all the Hindu- and Buddhism-inspired objets d'arts I kept seeing in the kooky little trinket stores, after just having been in the real deal in Cambodia. Over there, Buddhism is more than just a chintzy statue to stash on your sideboard, it's life, in a way I can't even speak to because I only really got a taste of it.
Enough already with the reverse culture shock! And can somebody tell me why Law & Order SVU is one of my current favorite pastimes, even with the preposterous plots of late?
Also I'm living with my mom. The best part about that is drinking wine periodically, baking cookies, and watching Survivor together again (amazing how easily I can fall back into that, but it's a passion. Producers...you missed out!). The very best part is sleeping with Kucha. She's the cutest dog in the world, and I swear that being away from her for a whole year has exponentially increased my love for her. I've always been cautiously in love with her, but now it's all out-I hug her and kiss her (even though she licks my toes and various sundries off the ground), and don't even mind the dog smell anymore (much). The worst part is...I'm living 'at home' (even though I've never 'lived' here before, in this house, just visited), with all the nagging ('get a job!') and feelings of inadequacies that entails.
So even though I'm a complete pathetic loser, worthy of the 'pathetic loser' pants I almost didn't change out of at all yesterday, I'm still finding reasons to be optimistic, namely, the divine friends I've been reconnecting with, all across Portland. "I'm in Portland! Wow! I can't believe I'm in Portland!" I hear myself keep saying. A play at the Newmark Theater with Hannah (ok, ok, so The Laramie Project 10 years later isn't the happiest of pieces, but it was mindblowing, and amazing to be a part of something so big and cool and right), Rogue Brewery with Megan and Layna, and the Hawthorne district with Alisha, where I had very reactionary reactions against all the hipsters afoot. ENOUGH already with the vintage, the tight pants, the funky hair, the admittedly bitchin' tattoos, the macchiatos and the local pride! After thinking about why these harmless trendies were pissing me off so much, (-'really Annette, what's so wrong with local pride, when your local is Portland, OR??' -'true fact, inner reasonable self') I think it had something to do with all the Hindu- and Buddhism-inspired objets d'arts I kept seeing in the kooky little trinket stores, after just having been in the real deal in Cambodia. Over there, Buddhism is more than just a chintzy statue to stash on your sideboard, it's life, in a way I can't even speak to because I only really got a taste of it.
Enough already with the reverse culture shock! And can somebody tell me why Law & Order SVU is one of my current favorite pastimes, even with the preposterous plots of late?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Sweet Home Alabama
So what did we do the first full day we were in Alabama? We proper hicked it up, heading out to a huge swath of land dedicated to ATVing. Acres of mud and trails through the woods, just for ATVs and dirtbikes. Miles was in Heaven, trying out his new purchase. I was sad because we didn't bring enough beer (9 beers for 5 people = bad math). The Boggdaddy (the place is called Boggs and Boulders) gave Phil, Cherie and I a personal tour on his mammoth ATV, because he felt bad that we were just sitting around waiting for our turn. He pointed out the new RV hook-ups, the swimming hole with rope swing (of course we hadn't thought to ask about this, so hadn't brought our swimsuits), the muddy hill a few dump trucks were keeping muddy. A veritable redneck's paradise. Well, Miles took me out on the big bear and I have to say it was a lot of fun. I don't think I'll ever buy one for myself, but I don't think he's completely crazy anymore. We saw 4 deer run by, and almost got stuck in the mud once. With a higher beer to person ratio, a tent for camping out in the back of the property, and a weekend of good weather, Boggs and Boulders wouldn't be half bad. I think Miles is camping there this weekend.
The next day, we woke up ridiculously early and raced Phil and Cherie to the Atlanta airport (code: ATL...I couldn't stop humming/singing Fergie). They missed their flight but caught another one that left 10 minutes later. Then Miles and I went to Marietta to visit Patrick Stromer, future chiropractor extraordinaire! We ate Chick-fil-A (I flipped out to try the sweet tea, and all the people working there thought I was crazy. They also thought it was crazy that I come from a land devoid of sweet tea, because, what would life be without it?), bought 6 6-packs (one for each hand) of microbrew beer from all over the country (GA, OR, CO), and then headed to the Braves game. The $1 tickets were sold out, and we were not about to pay $8 to get into a half-over game, (and the military discount tickets were $9...go figure), so we went to the bar across the street, where we could watch it on TV if we cared. We drank beer (and a Bloody Mary for me) and then ended up playing spades with some of the people who worked the game (concessions? ticket taking?). So fun! Then we hooked up with Miles' friend Treiz and his girlfriend Kristin and went to some bar and played pool. Then we ate at Steak and Shake. Yum.
Before driving home to Alabama the next day, Patrick told us we could check out the Coca-Cola museum or the Aquarium. Ho hum. OR, the CNN Center! Miles and I got to tour where the news is made, er, reported! It was pretty exciting.
The next couple of days are kind of a blur...we drank a lot of beer, (and a little wine, and a few mixed drinks), ate all sorts of wings, burgers and things, saw a mediocre movie, went to the aviation museum (we started at an aviation museum in Oregon and ended at one at Ft. Rucker, AL), and then the last day Miles took me shooting! (When in the South, right?) He's bought a lot of guns on his last few leaves (including a shotgun that was an impulse buy...that just seems wrong), so I got to test them out. I'd never shot a pistol before, and it was intense, especially since we weren't shooting bullseye targets, but vaguely human-shaped ones. I got a few head and chest shots at 25'. Hooray! (?) It was fun. Then he drove me to Montgomery, where we went out for an amazing steak dinner before he dropped me off at my hotel and drove home. I flew out the next day.
Now I'm back in Portland, half-heartedly looking for a job (I need money but who wants to work?), trying not to be too depressed about living back at home. Life is a journey, even if you're just at home. Miles loaned me a few books I probably never would have read otherwise (Greek war epics and alternative histories), and I'm resolved to re-discover Portland (there are tons of bars and restaurants I've heard about but never been to), all while deciding where I'm going next. I'm outta here by September 22, 2010. Here we go!
The next day, we woke up ridiculously early and raced Phil and Cherie to the Atlanta airport (code: ATL...I couldn't stop humming/singing Fergie). They missed their flight but caught another one that left 10 minutes later. Then Miles and I went to Marietta to visit Patrick Stromer, future chiropractor extraordinaire! We ate Chick-fil-A (I flipped out to try the sweet tea, and all the people working there thought I was crazy. They also thought it was crazy that I come from a land devoid of sweet tea, because, what would life be without it?), bought 6 6-packs (one for each hand) of microbrew beer from all over the country (GA, OR, CO), and then headed to the Braves game. The $1 tickets were sold out, and we were not about to pay $8 to get into a half-over game, (and the military discount tickets were $9...go figure), so we went to the bar across the street, where we could watch it on TV if we cared. We drank beer (and a Bloody Mary for me) and then ended up playing spades with some of the people who worked the game (concessions? ticket taking?). So fun! Then we hooked up with Miles' friend Treiz and his girlfriend Kristin and went to some bar and played pool. Then we ate at Steak and Shake. Yum.
Before driving home to Alabama the next day, Patrick told us we could check out the Coca-Cola museum or the Aquarium. Ho hum. OR, the CNN Center! Miles and I got to tour where the news is made, er, reported! It was pretty exciting.
The next couple of days are kind of a blur...we drank a lot of beer, (and a little wine, and a few mixed drinks), ate all sorts of wings, burgers and things, saw a mediocre movie, went to the aviation museum (we started at an aviation museum in Oregon and ended at one at Ft. Rucker, AL), and then the last day Miles took me shooting! (When in the South, right?) He's bought a lot of guns on his last few leaves (including a shotgun that was an impulse buy...that just seems wrong), so I got to test them out. I'd never shot a pistol before, and it was intense, especially since we weren't shooting bullseye targets, but vaguely human-shaped ones. I got a few head and chest shots at 25'. Hooray! (?) It was fun. Then he drove me to Montgomery, where we went out for an amazing steak dinner before he dropped me off at my hotel and drove home. I flew out the next day.
Now I'm back in Portland, half-heartedly looking for a job (I need money but who wants to work?), trying not to be too depressed about living back at home. Life is a journey, even if you're just at home. Miles loaned me a few books I probably never would have read otherwise (Greek war epics and alternative histories), and I'm resolved to re-discover Portland (there are tons of bars and restaurants I've heard about but never been to), all while deciding where I'm going next. I'm outta here by September 22, 2010. Here we go!
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Recapping the road trip! Part 1 - Getting There
Less than 24 hours after arriving back in the US for the first time in a year, I set out on an amazing crazy road trip. What better way to acclimatize back to the US than drive across it into the heartland? So my brother Miles, his friend Phil, Phil's wife Cherie, and I set out from Jantzen Beach, OR; as north as you can get on I-5 and still be in Oregon (though since we had dinner in Vancouver, WA the night I got back, I think we're counting that as one of the states in our trip).
Day 1 - We drove by the Spruce Goose (the largest airplane ever built...out of wood no less) on our way to the coast and ran into our cousin Kirk! He volunteers at the Evergreen Aviation Museum on Thursdays, a fact I was completely ignorant of. It was SO COOL and random to see him and get some sweet VIP tours through a B-17 and the Spruce Goose's cockpit!
Night 1 - Camping just south of Crescent City, CA. Beer, beginning-of-the-trip-excitement, slideshow from Iraq. Good times.
Day 2 - We leisurely check out some redwoods, including driving through one of them. Gorgeous, gentle giants. Lunch with my friend Hillary in Arcata (mmm Divine Swine! In the plaza, near the middle of town...some of the most delicious pork and tea I've ever tasted).
Night 2 - Sleepover at Aunt Robin's! We got there at around 11pm but Aunt Robin was game to stay up and drink with us until 3am!
Day 3 - Brunch with Aunt Robin, Uncle Jeff, Reid, Madeleine, Howard and Michele (Howard and Miles were 'sampling' Red Breast whiskey even though it was morning...5pm somewhere, right?), and then we set off through the desert. We ate at In-N-Out, amazing good food, simple menu, and Cherie had never been.
Night 3, Day 4, Night 4 - Who needs a hotel room in Vegas? We didn't! We rolled in around 10pm, met up with our cousin Stephanie (who drove down from Cedar City, UT, her current hometown), and did Vegas right! (Or did it do us?) That night Steph and I rocked the slots (I won $20 which I promptly spent on overpriced alcohol in the Irish bar), the free drinks, and all. The next morning we were all a little worse for wear, but managed to get food into our bellies and wander around until the mid-afternoon when we could finally (like chumps) check into some hotel rooms...hey, YOU go 48 hrs in Vegas sans bed and shower! After a deep afternoon nap, we all woke up and did it again. Hooray for slots-I won more money! Boo for 3-card poker...I lost more money than I won in slots! But dang that Lucio, the dealer, was cute! Hooray for $19 foot-long rum drinks! And I finally got to dance...at some bar right on the strip that closed around 5 or 6am. With foreigners. I swear I met more Europeans in Vegas than other Americans. It's like I never left (Europe). Solid.
Day 5 - Stephanie and I parted ways somewhere early that morning (she woke me up to say goodbye), and the road-trippers and I finally hit the road around noon.
Night 5 - We made it to the Grand Canyon right around sunset (we bought the $25 entrance pass from the hottest park ranger any of us had ever seen...truth. Just ask my brother...), and then found a campsite in the park. I passed out at 9pm after 2 1/2 beers...let's just say I had a lot of fun in Vegas (note: not Las Vegas, just Vegas. Those of us in the know...know). So I missed the part where Miles, Phil and Cherie met Steve and Wendi, the just-married couple camping next door to us doing the reverse road trip as us (Texas - Grand Canyon - Vegas - the Redwoods). Whatever. I was refreshed to help drive the next morning.
Day 6, Night 6 - 22 straight hours of driving, 3 states (AZ, NM, and TX), and about 1,300 miles from the Grand Canyon to Kilgore, East TX. We arrived around 7am. Mmm breakfast burritos with the coppers. Which meant we went through most of Texas in the dark. Good riddance.
Day 7 - Kilgore and Longview TX. Miles bought an ATV. And a trailer to put it on. It was an all-day ordeal. Phil, Cherie and I were quite surly by the end of it. But he got a good deal from his buddy's father-in-law!
Night 7 - Hotel in Shreveport, Louisiana. A pool, a lukewarm hot tub, lots of beers, IHOP, and comfy beds. Surliness subsided.
Day 8 - After all that, knocking out the rest of Lousiana, all of Mississippi, and lots of Alabama (along seemingly uninhabited country roads) was no sweat. We ate at some Mexican restaurant whose menu misleadingly featured enticing photographs of delicious mixed drinks and beers, but which in actuality had no alcohol on the premises. Counties going dry? In this day and age? Guess that's the south for ya. We arrived at Ft. Rucker after dark, where Miles signed in before midnight and dropped off a few things before the whole crew made our way to a hotel in Daleville.
Notes:
-the Grand Canyon is truly as awesome as everything you've heard. And then some. The next time I get there, I want to actually get down inside the thing, really spend some time there. More than just a few quick pics, anyways.
-after peeing where I have (namely, Cambodia), I find toilet seat covers absolutely ridiculous. If it's really that bad, I'll just hover.
Adventure continued next post
Day 1 - We drove by the Spruce Goose (the largest airplane ever built...out of wood no less) on our way to the coast and ran into our cousin Kirk! He volunteers at the Evergreen Aviation Museum on Thursdays, a fact I was completely ignorant of. It was SO COOL and random to see him and get some sweet VIP tours through a B-17 and the Spruce Goose's cockpit!
Night 1 - Camping just south of Crescent City, CA. Beer, beginning-of-the-trip-excitement, slideshow from Iraq. Good times.
Day 2 - We leisurely check out some redwoods, including driving through one of them. Gorgeous, gentle giants. Lunch with my friend Hillary in Arcata (mmm Divine Swine! In the plaza, near the middle of town...some of the most delicious pork and tea I've ever tasted).
Night 2 - Sleepover at Aunt Robin's! We got there at around 11pm but Aunt Robin was game to stay up and drink with us until 3am!
Day 3 - Brunch with Aunt Robin, Uncle Jeff, Reid, Madeleine, Howard and Michele (Howard and Miles were 'sampling' Red Breast whiskey even though it was morning...5pm somewhere, right?), and then we set off through the desert. We ate at In-N-Out, amazing good food, simple menu, and Cherie had never been.
Night 3, Day 4, Night 4 - Who needs a hotel room in Vegas? We didn't! We rolled in around 10pm, met up with our cousin Stephanie (who drove down from Cedar City, UT, her current hometown), and did Vegas right! (Or did it do us?) That night Steph and I rocked the slots (I won $20 which I promptly spent on overpriced alcohol in the Irish bar), the free drinks, and all. The next morning we were all a little worse for wear, but managed to get food into our bellies and wander around until the mid-afternoon when we could finally (like chumps) check into some hotel rooms...hey, YOU go 48 hrs in Vegas sans bed and shower! After a deep afternoon nap, we all woke up and did it again. Hooray for slots-I won more money! Boo for 3-card poker...I lost more money than I won in slots! But dang that Lucio, the dealer, was cute! Hooray for $19 foot-long rum drinks! And I finally got to dance...at some bar right on the strip that closed around 5 or 6am. With foreigners. I swear I met more Europeans in Vegas than other Americans. It's like I never left (Europe). Solid.
Day 5 - Stephanie and I parted ways somewhere early that morning (she woke me up to say goodbye), and the road-trippers and I finally hit the road around noon.
Night 5 - We made it to the Grand Canyon right around sunset (we bought the $25 entrance pass from the hottest park ranger any of us had ever seen...truth. Just ask my brother...), and then found a campsite in the park. I passed out at 9pm after 2 1/2 beers...let's just say I had a lot of fun in Vegas (note: not Las Vegas, just Vegas. Those of us in the know...know). So I missed the part where Miles, Phil and Cherie met Steve and Wendi, the just-married couple camping next door to us doing the reverse road trip as us (Texas - Grand Canyon - Vegas - the Redwoods). Whatever. I was refreshed to help drive the next morning.
Day 6, Night 6 - 22 straight hours of driving, 3 states (AZ, NM, and TX), and about 1,300 miles from the Grand Canyon to Kilgore, East TX. We arrived around 7am. Mmm breakfast burritos with the coppers. Which meant we went through most of Texas in the dark. Good riddance.
Day 7 - Kilgore and Longview TX. Miles bought an ATV. And a trailer to put it on. It was an all-day ordeal. Phil, Cherie and I were quite surly by the end of it. But he got a good deal from his buddy's father-in-law!
Night 7 - Hotel in Shreveport, Louisiana. A pool, a lukewarm hot tub, lots of beers, IHOP, and comfy beds. Surliness subsided.
Day 8 - After all that, knocking out the rest of Lousiana, all of Mississippi, and lots of Alabama (along seemingly uninhabited country roads) was no sweat. We ate at some Mexican restaurant whose menu misleadingly featured enticing photographs of delicious mixed drinks and beers, but which in actuality had no alcohol on the premises. Counties going dry? In this day and age? Guess that's the south for ya. We arrived at Ft. Rucker after dark, where Miles signed in before midnight and dropped off a few things before the whole crew made our way to a hotel in Daleville.
Notes:
-the Grand Canyon is truly as awesome as everything you've heard. And then some. The next time I get there, I want to actually get down inside the thing, really spend some time there. More than just a few quick pics, anyways.
-after peeing where I have (namely, Cambodia), I find toilet seat covers absolutely ridiculous. If it's really that bad, I'll just hover.
Adventure continued next post
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Sunny Scenicville
Cambodia is a complete mindf*ck. Everything, from how poor the people are, to the beautiful countryside, to the crazy barangs (foreigners) you meet, (seriously, why and how do people find themselves in Cambodia, of all places? The stories are usually fairly interesting), to the extremely f*cked up history of the country, to my dad and his 'girlfriend' and I sharing a hotel here in Scenicville (that's how Shianoukville is pronounced)...collective shudder. 'He really loves you' My told me, in reference to my dad. What would she know, anyways? He seems a little lonely, although he's got a pretty sweet life out here in Cambodia, as far as fixed-income lifes can be. He does seem to want me to come live here, but a 2-bedroom apartment sounds a bit...crazy. I like Cambodia, and for as hard as it would be for a single barang lady to live here (as 2 English-speaking dudes at the Freebird were discussing the other night), I could totally rock it. I think. It's the most different place I've ever been in my traveling, and the people are so nice, and the countryside is so beautiful, and my dad's here (which I'm trying to convince myself is a point in it's favor...support network?), and it would be an adventure, and a challenge. It's already been very challenging, and I've been numb most of the time as a self-defence mechanism, but most of that was related to my dad and his dirty ol' lifestyle (but to be fair, he is a dirty ol' man, so it's not like it's anything out of character or unexpected or anything).
We got a flyer last night for a bar on the beach with sweet drink deals and a dancefloor (we didn't check it out...maybe tonight?), and on the back it said they're looking to hire Western staff...hey hey! And today I met a German guy and a French girl who are living the sweet life of Emma: divemastering it up in amazingly beautiful, tropical locales. The bitches. Note to self: get divemaster certification. First get SCUBA certified. But the point is, it's possible. It's possible to live the dream and lead a most amazing and adventurous life, out and about in the world.
So the body of water I was floating in earlier today is the Gulf of Thailand. Yesterday we took a bus from Phnom Penh to Shianoukville, a beach town in the SW of the country. I ate some BBQ squid today and it was good! I've been eating lots of good weird fruit ('greens' which are oranges but completely lime green on the outside, and my favorite so far has got to be the dragonfruit, pink on the outside and white with black spots on the inside), but trying to stay away from the street food (at one bus stop they had trays of cooked tarantulas, and buckets of live ones...no thanks). We've eaten a lot of Mexican food, but whatevs, it's good! Khmer food is pretty good...lots of rice, veggies, meat, coconut...once my meal even came in a coconut! Last night I drank beer, (sometimes as cheap as 25 cents!), a banana daquiri, a mango daquiri, a shot of tequila, a margarita...the good life. I got a ride on the back of a Khmai's scooter to a sweet club where they actually played good dance music (even if they weren't actually dancing to it as they should), but shortly after we arrived a live band started playing Cambodian music. Ugh. It's not that good. In fact, it's awful. 5 songs. 5 songs later, just as I was getting ready to dance some more, the dude had to take me home because he had had a total of TWO Heinekens and was drunk. Sigh, little Asians...
...And that isn't even the HALF of it!...
The day after I fly into Portland, I hit the road to California, Arizona, Texas, Alabama, Florida, and the places inbetween for what promises to be a truly awesome roadtrip with my brother and 2 of his good friends. Actually, I couldn't have planned a better way to come back to the US after a year abroad, the last few weeks of which were in Cambodia. Might as well hit the ground running into the Heartland...if I've learned anything it's that I am capable of anything. Bring. It. ON!
We got a flyer last night for a bar on the beach with sweet drink deals and a dancefloor (we didn't check it out...maybe tonight?), and on the back it said they're looking to hire Western staff...hey hey! And today I met a German guy and a French girl who are living the sweet life of Emma: divemastering it up in amazingly beautiful, tropical locales. The bitches. Note to self: get divemaster certification. First get SCUBA certified. But the point is, it's possible. It's possible to live the dream and lead a most amazing and adventurous life, out and about in the world.
So the body of water I was floating in earlier today is the Gulf of Thailand. Yesterday we took a bus from Phnom Penh to Shianoukville, a beach town in the SW of the country. I ate some BBQ squid today and it was good! I've been eating lots of good weird fruit ('greens' which are oranges but completely lime green on the outside, and my favorite so far has got to be the dragonfruit, pink on the outside and white with black spots on the inside), but trying to stay away from the street food (at one bus stop they had trays of cooked tarantulas, and buckets of live ones...no thanks). We've eaten a lot of Mexican food, but whatevs, it's good! Khmer food is pretty good...lots of rice, veggies, meat, coconut...once my meal even came in a coconut! Last night I drank beer, (sometimes as cheap as 25 cents!), a banana daquiri, a mango daquiri, a shot of tequila, a margarita...the good life. I got a ride on the back of a Khmai's scooter to a sweet club where they actually played good dance music (even if they weren't actually dancing to it as they should), but shortly after we arrived a live band started playing Cambodian music. Ugh. It's not that good. In fact, it's awful. 5 songs. 5 songs later, just as I was getting ready to dance some more, the dude had to take me home because he had had a total of TWO Heinekens and was drunk. Sigh, little Asians...
...And that isn't even the HALF of it!...
The day after I fly into Portland, I hit the road to California, Arizona, Texas, Alabama, Florida, and the places inbetween for what promises to be a truly awesome roadtrip with my brother and 2 of his good friends. Actually, I couldn't have planned a better way to come back to the US after a year abroad, the last few weeks of which were in Cambodia. Might as well hit the ground running into the Heartland...if I've learned anything it's that I am capable of anything. Bring. It. ON!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Water buffalo, landmines, massages-the highlights!
OMG! The temples have been great (the last 2 days I've been jetting around on the back of Long Seng's motorbike)...I can't believe how old and amazing they are. So intricate, so advanced, and some of them were made in the 900s! Riding through the rice paddied countryside is an amazing experience...I can TOTALLY see why my dad has been coming here to motorcycle around for the past 10 or so years. It's hot, beautiful, with cheap food, friendly people, and water buffalo! At one point yesterday, driving back from one of the temples, some water buffalo ran full speed across the road! Cars and motorbikes (including us) had to screech to a halt and I was just thankful we weren't a few seconds ahead and in their way! I have no idea if they were running to or from something...crazy!
Yesterday was September 11th. I noticed this fact while I was at a landmine museum. I got to see all sorts of landmines and anti-personnel devices. There are still millions out there, and thousands of people are maimed and killed every year. I learned that the US hasn't signed the landmine treaty (sing me a new song! The Kyoto Protocols, the Equal Rights Amendment...we suck at being cool), because we want to reserve the right to use these effective tools at the DMZ (de-militarized zone) between N. and S. Korea. We are ridiculous. So on a day when I should have been (and was) thinking about a terrible atrocity inflicted on the US, I was learning about the horrible things we have a hand in.
I also got to witness some good ol' Cambodian corruption: the police pulled us over and I just stood there by the bike while I watched Long Seng slip a few dollars into the guy's hand. 'What was that all about?' I hadn't noticed before, but his motorbike didn't have lights like it was supposed to. Cool.
After I got back to Siem Reap yesterday, I found a massage parlor I had read about in Lonely Planet (I am such a yuppy). Seeing Hands trains blind people to be masseurs and masseuses. I got a great massage (I was 75% asleep throughout), and got to feel good about helping out blind people. I felt like Mira Sorvino in At First Sight with Val Kilmer, except I'm not about to fall in love with my blind Cambodian masseur! I only dealt with blind people there, and it was funny...it was $5 and I gave her a $10 and asked for change...I could have given her a $1 bill and told her it was a tenner, but I'm not so evil as to rip off blind people! C'mon!
Last night I went out drinking and dancing with my dad. We went to Pub Street, and the drinks must have been watered down, because I had 2 margaritas with dinner, a tequila sunrise, an 'Oh my Buddha!', 2 Long Island Iced Teas, and at least 3-5 beers after that. We went to a Mexican place for dinner, hopped over to a Khmer place for 2 drinks (happy hour special), back to Temple Bar for drinking and dancing (where we met some cool Americans I'm hoping to see again in a few days in Phnom Penh...she's doing the Peace Corps in Thailand, and her boyfriend is visiting her...they thankfully rescued me when they were the only white non-prostitutes dancing and my dad was getting talked up by...well, you know). My dad left, they left, and then I crossed the street to Angkor What? which was playing some great music and was full of 'barong' ('white' people, or at least tourists), and a few Khmer drinking mixed drinks out of buckets (they shared!). Then I caught a touk-touk home at 1-something.
Tomorrow we're busing back to Phnom Penh. And the adventure continues!
Yesterday was September 11th. I noticed this fact while I was at a landmine museum. I got to see all sorts of landmines and anti-personnel devices. There are still millions out there, and thousands of people are maimed and killed every year. I learned that the US hasn't signed the landmine treaty (sing me a new song! The Kyoto Protocols, the Equal Rights Amendment...we suck at being cool), because we want to reserve the right to use these effective tools at the DMZ (de-militarized zone) between N. and S. Korea. We are ridiculous. So on a day when I should have been (and was) thinking about a terrible atrocity inflicted on the US, I was learning about the horrible things we have a hand in.
I also got to witness some good ol' Cambodian corruption: the police pulled us over and I just stood there by the bike while I watched Long Seng slip a few dollars into the guy's hand. 'What was that all about?' I hadn't noticed before, but his motorbike didn't have lights like it was supposed to. Cool.
After I got back to Siem Reap yesterday, I found a massage parlor I had read about in Lonely Planet (I am such a yuppy). Seeing Hands trains blind people to be masseurs and masseuses. I got a great massage (I was 75% asleep throughout), and got to feel good about helping out blind people. I felt like Mira Sorvino in At First Sight with Val Kilmer, except I'm not about to fall in love with my blind Cambodian masseur! I only dealt with blind people there, and it was funny...it was $5 and I gave her a $10 and asked for change...I could have given her a $1 bill and told her it was a tenner, but I'm not so evil as to rip off blind people! C'mon!
Last night I went out drinking and dancing with my dad. We went to Pub Street, and the drinks must have been watered down, because I had 2 margaritas with dinner, a tequila sunrise, an 'Oh my Buddha!', 2 Long Island Iced Teas, and at least 3-5 beers after that. We went to a Mexican place for dinner, hopped over to a Khmer place for 2 drinks (happy hour special), back to Temple Bar for drinking and dancing (where we met some cool Americans I'm hoping to see again in a few days in Phnom Penh...she's doing the Peace Corps in Thailand, and her boyfriend is visiting her...they thankfully rescued me when they were the only white non-prostitutes dancing and my dad was getting talked up by...well, you know). My dad left, they left, and then I crossed the street to Angkor What? which was playing some great music and was full of 'barong' ('white' people, or at least tourists), and a few Khmer drinking mixed drinks out of buckets (they shared!). Then I caught a touk-touk home at 1-something.
Tomorrow we're busing back to Phnom Penh. And the adventure continues!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Angkor What?
(Okay, totally stole that title from a restaurant somewhere here in Siem Reap...it's in the guidebooks. We have two, one of which was written by my dad's friend. I feel in the know)
Scrambling around really ancient ruins today, (pretty much the inspiration for Indiana Jones, Tomb Raider, etc.), I was thinking of all the fantastic things I've seen this past year. Amazing mozaics and a whole Roman city's worth of ruins in Tunisia, cool carvings in English churches, the Bayeux tapestry, er, embroidery, the Stonehenge-all this really neat, really old stuff. It's amazing it's all survived, to some extent, at least enough to tell the tales of ancient awesomeness today. I love it! It's inspiring, amazing, and reminds me of how much of a history nerd I really am. But I wouldn't want to be an archaeologist for a living, no way! One of the temples I saw today had been taken apart piece by piece, to be put back together again perfectly. Unfortunately, the Khmer Rouge took over and the meticulously catalogued plans went missing! Now some Frenchies and Cambodians are putting all the stones back without a guide...in really intense moist jungle heat! Not for me. (BTW Erin, you'd love this place! It's like the Amazon, with temples! I feel like a half-assed Indiana Jones in my Cambodia hat!)
Monkeys, though. They're amazing! I did the tourist thing and bought bananas on the side of the road just to feed to the cute little things. One of them took one bite and dropped it on the ground. Well exCUSE me! As we were leaving, I saw the kids who were hawking bananas and cactus to the tourists scaring the monkeys back up into the trees before they had finished...so more tourists would come along and buy more bananas...oh well, the monkeys were fat and looked happy!
Angkor Wat was stellar, and Steve, I can totally see what you're talking about...I saw the part of the bas-reliefs with the army of monkeys, and I'd support anyone getting a tattoo of something so cool.
The plan is to go to some 'nice' joints for dinner and drinks tonight...and by 'nice' I don't mean fancy, I just mean anything that's not a strip club. Not that that's all we've been doing-last night we saw traditional dancing and had a sweet buffet; felt like I was in Hawaii! SE Asia: so far, so good!
Scrambling around really ancient ruins today, (pretty much the inspiration for Indiana Jones, Tomb Raider, etc.), I was thinking of all the fantastic things I've seen this past year. Amazing mozaics and a whole Roman city's worth of ruins in Tunisia, cool carvings in English churches, the Bayeux tapestry, er, embroidery, the Stonehenge-all this really neat, really old stuff. It's amazing it's all survived, to some extent, at least enough to tell the tales of ancient awesomeness today. I love it! It's inspiring, amazing, and reminds me of how much of a history nerd I really am. But I wouldn't want to be an archaeologist for a living, no way! One of the temples I saw today had been taken apart piece by piece, to be put back together again perfectly. Unfortunately, the Khmer Rouge took over and the meticulously catalogued plans went missing! Now some Frenchies and Cambodians are putting all the stones back without a guide...in really intense moist jungle heat! Not for me. (BTW Erin, you'd love this place! It's like the Amazon, with temples! I feel like a half-assed Indiana Jones in my Cambodia hat!)
Monkeys, though. They're amazing! I did the tourist thing and bought bananas on the side of the road just to feed to the cute little things. One of them took one bite and dropped it on the ground. Well exCUSE me! As we were leaving, I saw the kids who were hawking bananas and cactus to the tourists scaring the monkeys back up into the trees before they had finished...so more tourists would come along and buy more bananas...oh well, the monkeys were fat and looked happy!
Angkor Wat was stellar, and Steve, I can totally see what you're talking about...I saw the part of the bas-reliefs with the army of monkeys, and I'd support anyone getting a tattoo of something so cool.
The plan is to go to some 'nice' joints for dinner and drinks tonight...and by 'nice' I don't mean fancy, I just mean anything that's not a strip club. Not that that's all we've been doing-last night we saw traditional dancing and had a sweet buffet; felt like I was in Hawaii! SE Asia: so far, so good!
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Hanging with Hookers
Disassociation. When you can’t even believe what is going on around you, and to cope you pretend to remove yourself from your body as you go along for the ride. That was last night for me.
Ladies, let me ask you this: while getting all dolled up to go out drinking and dancing of an evening, have you ever had to think, “Maybe I shouldn’t whore it up too much, as I’ll be hanging with actual whores later on this evening?” Yep, my dad and I headed out on the wackiest ‘double date’ scenario I hope I ever go on in my life…his friend ‘My’ (the one who’s a few days younger than me) and her brother ‘Tongue’ (apparently spelled Tom, but pronounced like the body part) joined us to go to Martini, notorious Phnom Penh bar at which to pick up hookers, and where my dad and his friends have many times before, he overshared with me. If only that had been the only (and mildest!) overshare of the evening. Naturally, I had already drank 2 beers beforehand, and got another at the club. After downing it pretty quickly, I got a Singapore Sling for myself and offered to buy a drink for My. Although she demurred at first, she ended up ordering a B52 and drank it through a straw while it was on fire. Rock on. The dance floor was pretty quiet-the first thing out there was a cockroach, and then some hookers (still so weird to say seriously about women in this very real profession) checking themselves out in the mirror. We were in the disco part of the bar, and I had to periodically leave to breathe and convince myself that I could and would live through this strangest of experiences, under the auspices of buying more drinks, going to the bathroom, or rounding up a hair tie. As it turns out, hookers are really nice, showing me where to pee and even finding hair ties (I paid her 200 reil, or 1/22 of a dollar for the favor). Finally, the dance floor was hopping enough, (and I was drunk enough) to hit it. Hookers are also really fun to dance with, at least for the only ‘barong’ (white) woman in the building. They’re not the best dancers, but they’re friendly, and make me look better by comparison. One was almost as tall as me in my heels, and looked kind of like a man. A tranny! Later my dad told me that he was going to warn me to watch out for the ‘kitoy’ (tranny), but he didn’t get around to it. But I love trannies, and after all, cutting it up to the Black Eyed Peas with ‘whores’ and trannies isn’t really that different from my usual nights out!
And here’s where it gets really interesting (you thought you’d heard it all)! I’m the only one dancing at this point, (my dad’s old, My was hanging with him, and her brother was shy, could speak as much English as I can speak Khmer, and is half my size, so I forgive him for being intimidated), and I’m informed that the group is splitting up and peacing out shortly, My and her brother to the airport, and my dad and I to a traditional Cambodian club. A customer of My’s was flying in from Korea. What?!? This was a development I hadn’t expected. Am I a bad person if I was a tad bit relieved to find out that she’s just a hooker too, and not a potential future stepmom (which the Cambodian concierge of our hotel jokingly called her every time she and I walked by yesterday)? So my dad has no settling down plans after all (his vague reference to possible future children in an email turns out to have been an allusion to a condom breaking…classy…). A year or two ago, I thought I was being pretty forward-thinking and crazy when I went to a strip club with my brother and his friends. Little did I know I’d be hanging with hookers in Cambodia with my DAD! Good thing I didn’t have much of a relationship with him when I was younger…it’d be 100 times more awkward if this whole adventure was killing any admiration or respect I had had for him since childhood. Learning that the childhood hero who raised you was a womanizing dirty old bastard I’m sure would be quite traumatic. Learning that some dude I’ve barely known my whole life prefers Vietnamese to Khmer girls isn’t all that bad, relatively. I’m doing my best to laugh along with this (who but David Sedaris has as fucked up stories as these?), but even so, I think I’m going to get back to the states and have to curl up in a ball watching Disney movies in a semi-conscious stupor for a week.
As if learning that a ‘mamasan’ (or Madame) once offered my dad a 9 year old (which he was…gentleman enough? not to accept) wasn’t enough, we went to Touol Sleng today, the prison where the Khmer Rouge tortured and killed thousands of men, women and children in the ‘70’s. Cheery and uplifting it wasn’t. It was shocking and numbing, but I don’t think it really hit me as much as it would have if I hadn’t already been so shocked and numbed by the events of the previous evening.
Tomorrow we’re headed to the fantastic Angkor Wat. I’m hoping and planning on seeing some incredible temples and riding an elephant or two, immersing myself in old old culture and not thinking about hookers or genocide for at least a few days (though we didn’t get to the Killing Fields today and will be hitting those up once we get back to Phnom Penh in 5 days). Breathe, relax, think about home in a few short days…Lord give me strength!
Ladies, let me ask you this: while getting all dolled up to go out drinking and dancing of an evening, have you ever had to think, “Maybe I shouldn’t whore it up too much, as I’ll be hanging with actual whores later on this evening?” Yep, my dad and I headed out on the wackiest ‘double date’ scenario I hope I ever go on in my life…his friend ‘My’ (the one who’s a few days younger than me) and her brother ‘Tongue’ (apparently spelled Tom, but pronounced like the body part) joined us to go to Martini, notorious Phnom Penh bar at which to pick up hookers, and where my dad and his friends have many times before, he overshared with me. If only that had been the only (and mildest!) overshare of the evening. Naturally, I had already drank 2 beers beforehand, and got another at the club. After downing it pretty quickly, I got a Singapore Sling for myself and offered to buy a drink for My. Although she demurred at first, she ended up ordering a B52 and drank it through a straw while it was on fire. Rock on. The dance floor was pretty quiet-the first thing out there was a cockroach, and then some hookers (still so weird to say seriously about women in this very real profession) checking themselves out in the mirror. We were in the disco part of the bar, and I had to periodically leave to breathe and convince myself that I could and would live through this strangest of experiences, under the auspices of buying more drinks, going to the bathroom, or rounding up a hair tie. As it turns out, hookers are really nice, showing me where to pee and even finding hair ties (I paid her 200 reil, or 1/22 of a dollar for the favor). Finally, the dance floor was hopping enough, (and I was drunk enough) to hit it. Hookers are also really fun to dance with, at least for the only ‘barong’ (white) woman in the building. They’re not the best dancers, but they’re friendly, and make me look better by comparison. One was almost as tall as me in my heels, and looked kind of like a man. A tranny! Later my dad told me that he was going to warn me to watch out for the ‘kitoy’ (tranny), but he didn’t get around to it. But I love trannies, and after all, cutting it up to the Black Eyed Peas with ‘whores’ and trannies isn’t really that different from my usual nights out!
And here’s where it gets really interesting (you thought you’d heard it all)! I’m the only one dancing at this point, (my dad’s old, My was hanging with him, and her brother was shy, could speak as much English as I can speak Khmer, and is half my size, so I forgive him for being intimidated), and I’m informed that the group is splitting up and peacing out shortly, My and her brother to the airport, and my dad and I to a traditional Cambodian club. A customer of My’s was flying in from Korea. What?!? This was a development I hadn’t expected. Am I a bad person if I was a tad bit relieved to find out that she’s just a hooker too, and not a potential future stepmom (which the Cambodian concierge of our hotel jokingly called her every time she and I walked by yesterday)? So my dad has no settling down plans after all (his vague reference to possible future children in an email turns out to have been an allusion to a condom breaking…classy…). A year or two ago, I thought I was being pretty forward-thinking and crazy when I went to a strip club with my brother and his friends. Little did I know I’d be hanging with hookers in Cambodia with my DAD! Good thing I didn’t have much of a relationship with him when I was younger…it’d be 100 times more awkward if this whole adventure was killing any admiration or respect I had had for him since childhood. Learning that the childhood hero who raised you was a womanizing dirty old bastard I’m sure would be quite traumatic. Learning that some dude I’ve barely known my whole life prefers Vietnamese to Khmer girls isn’t all that bad, relatively. I’m doing my best to laugh along with this (who but David Sedaris has as fucked up stories as these?), but even so, I think I’m going to get back to the states and have to curl up in a ball watching Disney movies in a semi-conscious stupor for a week.
As if learning that a ‘mamasan’ (or Madame) once offered my dad a 9 year old (which he was…gentleman enough? not to accept) wasn’t enough, we went to Touol Sleng today, the prison where the Khmer Rouge tortured and killed thousands of men, women and children in the ‘70’s. Cheery and uplifting it wasn’t. It was shocking and numbing, but I don’t think it really hit me as much as it would have if I hadn’t already been so shocked and numbed by the events of the previous evening.
Tomorrow we’re headed to the fantastic Angkor Wat. I’m hoping and planning on seeing some incredible temples and riding an elephant or two, immersing myself in old old culture and not thinking about hookers or genocide for at least a few days (though we didn’t get to the Killing Fields today and will be hitting those up once we get back to Phnom Penh in 5 days). Breathe, relax, think about home in a few short days…Lord give me strength!
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Cambodia!
I was sad to say good-bye to Normandy and the family where I was au pairing, but excited to see friends, Paris, and London! Damir (in Paris) is a great cook with an awesome apartment-it's in the 2nd arrondisement (a pretty snazzy address) and it came stocked with books, lots of classic French literature. I was drooling. Then I saw my godmother, my godfather, my cousins, one of their boyfriends (from Brazil) in Hampshire...one day we decided to hop over to Stonehenge, you know, as you do. Incredible. London was everything it always has been: gray, expensive, intelligent, classy. Simon, Ruth, Stacy and I flitted through museums, and met up with Lauren at the Ritz Club. Honest! A 12 hour flight to Kuala Lumpur, a hop up to Phnom Penh, and here I am, in a completely different world! I'm eating and seeing and doing amazing things. Hopefully I will meet some cool people and get a read on the English teaching scene here. Gotta go, but a quick sampling of what I've done in just a day here: rode in some tuk tuks, ate some Mexican food, drank Thai and Cambodian beer, hung out with hookers at a bar, saw geckos, had a $7 hour-long Thai massage, slept! More later, but I'm off to the market and more adventures now!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Stimulating Conversation
Aunt Robin and Reid came to France, and I was lucky enough to spend about 3 days with them, tourist-ing it up in Normandy. Besides the WWII beaches and museums and history, the Bayeux tapestry (depicting William the Conqueror's conquest of England in 1066), the delicious cuisine (I ate duck, pork, cod, a camembert pie, Ile Flottante, creme brulée, a few apple tarts, not to mention what I drank! rosé & red wine, cider, kir, Normandy kir, which is cider plus calvados...), I was blessed with stimulating conversation! My aunt is one of the most amazing people I know, and Reid is the most well-read 15 yr old I've ever met (better-read than I was at that age, and probably even better-read than I am now), so we were able to talk about history, politics, current affairs, and of course, family gossip! I love those conversations, because the only conclusion I ever reach is that I come from crazies, all of whom I love the more for it, for keeping things interesting (and making me look good)!
I've been starved for thought-provoking discourse of late, which I attribute to 3 main reasons; 1. I've been spending a lot of time lately with a 20-month-old. As you can imagine, topics of conversation range from horses to cows to eating and bathing, and back again. Exciting. 2. I've been surrounded by francophones. I focus on being understood, and trying to understand. Correct grammar and simpler ideas are the goal of this short and sweet interactions. And 3. I haven't been around inspiring people anyways. I'm sure these Frenchies have convictions about some important things, but I'm 'the help' right now, doing my job, trying to do it well, and beyond that, who cares? It's fine, but being with Aunt Robin and Reid made me miss people who read The New Yorker...(and drink wine...I was a thirsty girl when they found me, and thankfully a little reliving last summer helped)!
This month I've become proficient and confident in changing diapers, feeding a kid, entertaining him, and making sure he doesn't die or kill himself (well, I still have a week to go, better not speak too soon...) I don't want a screaming crying eating pooping irrational little beast of my own. I don't want to be a nanny for any extended period of time, but babysitting here and there is definitely something I can handle. Go me, living up (or down?) to gender stereotypes. It is what it is. I can be nurturing and caring, if I must.
This time next Friday I'm going to be on a train to Paris! I'm stoked to get on with it, and get to the next thing! Paris, London, Phnom Penh...bring it on! I'm in a good traveling place right now...I'm super excited about where I'm going and what I'm doing the next few weeks, but I'm also really excited to be headed home shortly. I'm already making a list of things to do once home. So far, it's:
I've been starved for thought-provoking discourse of late, which I attribute to 3 main reasons; 1. I've been spending a lot of time lately with a 20-month-old. As you can imagine, topics of conversation range from horses to cows to eating and bathing, and back again. Exciting. 2. I've been surrounded by francophones. I focus on being understood, and trying to understand. Correct grammar and simpler ideas are the goal of this short and sweet interactions. And 3. I haven't been around inspiring people anyways. I'm sure these Frenchies have convictions about some important things, but I'm 'the help' right now, doing my job, trying to do it well, and beyond that, who cares? It's fine, but being with Aunt Robin and Reid made me miss people who read The New Yorker...(and drink wine...I was a thirsty girl when they found me, and thankfully a little reliving last summer helped)!
This month I've become proficient and confident in changing diapers, feeding a kid, entertaining him, and making sure he doesn't die or kill himself (well, I still have a week to go, better not speak too soon...) I don't want a screaming crying eating pooping irrational little beast of my own. I don't want to be a nanny for any extended period of time, but babysitting here and there is definitely something I can handle. Go me, living up (or down?) to gender stereotypes. It is what it is. I can be nurturing and caring, if I must.
This time next Friday I'm going to be on a train to Paris! I'm stoked to get on with it, and get to the next thing! Paris, London, Phnom Penh...bring it on! I'm in a good traveling place right now...I'm super excited about where I'm going and what I'm doing the next few weeks, but I'm also really excited to be headed home shortly. I'm already making a list of things to do once home. So far, it's:
- eat Mexican! lots of it!
- drink spiced rum! Sailor Jerry, I've missed you! (real-life Jerry, not so much)
- see Miles!
- see family!
- see friends! (I miss you, Mr. Quinn, Hannah, Megan, Alison, Alisha, Danny, Yuliya, et al!)
- get drunk with you all!
- be on a boat!
- go to some idealist.org sponsored career & college fairs in October!
- bike!
- run!
- swim!
- triathlon?
- take micro and macro! (youpie!)
- take the GRE! (things just keep getting more exciting!)
- visit Corvallis
- visit Santa Cruz
- visit Seattle
- visit Utah
- discover Portland (hipster hangouts, watering holes, free fun stuff, local businesses, and what have you-a 'rediscovering-my-roots-reunion-tour/bonanza!)
- apply to...the next big thing (whatever that ends up being)
- have a kick-ass Christmas...somewhere! ;)
- get out by...September 22, 2010 at the latest! I'm not moving home or anything, just visiting for a calendar year MAX!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Bonheur
Have steady (and free!) internet access, will blog! Following, my thoughts on the good life-
"...il n'y a de bonheur que dans le ciel" -Madame Grandet, in Balzac's Eugénie Grandet
There is no happiness except in Heaven.
"la vie c'est du bonheur" -a bracelet I paid too much for and lost a few days later
Life is happiness/pleasure/good.
Glass half-empty or half-full? Is your glass Christian or not? Madame Grandet is a very religious character, who's had a rough family life, and my bracelet was awesome. When life is getting you down, circumstances suck and things aren't going your way, it's Christian (and easy) to say 'life sucks, whatever, things will be wicked cool in Heaven. I gotta get thru this!' But I say, make and be your own happiness. Embrace what comes along, learn from everything, good and bad, and create your own destiny. Don't blame other things or people for what happens, and don't take it lying down. Happiness is here, happiness is now, it's yours if you want it.
"Beaucoup du bonheur"
Lots of happiness -a traditional blessing you'd give to a newly married couple, especially if they're American and can appreciate the double entendre of 'bonheur,' as it sounds like something else you'd like to have a lot of in a marriage! ;)
The following passage has been lifted from my journal, originally written July 31st:
I know I will look back on this year as an incredible time, and also significant. I have some FABULOUS memories (Tunisia, Salou/Barcelona, Avignon, Geneva, meeting Robyn, teaching, meeting Kathleen Riley, Christmas in Hampshire, Ruth and her mom, Simon, Steve, Sarah, Zandra, trains, Alicia in Lyon, the Tour de France, hanging by the Sorgue, when my mom came to visit, hitchhiking, the Avignon theater festival, Whitney in Pertuis, Marseille, Paris with Daniel, &c.), and have read some good books, learned a few lessons (I hope! Though I still stupidly gave my phone number to a Chezch I never planned on seeing again in Geneva), made a few decisions, changed them, ammended them, changed them back, realized a few things (like I like France, I LOVE Europe, I won't know if the Foreign Service is the right thing for me until I do it but for right now it feels like a right and good and exciting direction), can cook a *little better, can travel a lot better, have weathered a few things, and am addicted to travel, wine, cheese, patatas bravas, Tabasco sauce, bastogne cookies, plain croissants (as opposed to pain au chocolats, which are nice, but not the same), trains, coffee, writing. I'm working on being more spontaneous and open to what the universe has to offer. I'm learning how to be an au-pair/nanny right now. At first I felt Seignosse (first nanny gig of the summer) was a failure. Now I see it was how it had to be.
***
Today I took a sailing class for 3 hours! I was sailing around on La Manche, learning hardly anything but I didn't mind because I had fun and perfect weather! Enough wind and lots of sun! Now that's what I call bonheur!
And I thought 20 months was young! Try 6 weeks! I'm currently babysitting a 6 week old, who I met 2 weeks ago, so I guess I've 'known' her for 1/3 of her life. Sort of. Anyways, WTF? Honestly, how do people do this parenting thing? And more importantly, why? Trying to get them both taken care of tonight was a handful...good thing the grandparents are next door to lend a hand! I have an even huger respect for anyone who dares have kids...especially when they're close together, or multiples.
"...il n'y a de bonheur que dans le ciel" -Madame Grandet, in Balzac's Eugénie Grandet
There is no happiness except in Heaven.
"la vie c'est du bonheur" -a bracelet I paid too much for and lost a few days later
Life is happiness/pleasure/good.
Glass half-empty or half-full? Is your glass Christian or not? Madame Grandet is a very religious character, who's had a rough family life, and my bracelet was awesome. When life is getting you down, circumstances suck and things aren't going your way, it's Christian (and easy) to say 'life sucks, whatever, things will be wicked cool in Heaven. I gotta get thru this!' But I say, make and be your own happiness. Embrace what comes along, learn from everything, good and bad, and create your own destiny. Don't blame other things or people for what happens, and don't take it lying down. Happiness is here, happiness is now, it's yours if you want it.
"Beaucoup du bonheur"
Lots of happiness -a traditional blessing you'd give to a newly married couple, especially if they're American and can appreciate the double entendre of 'bonheur,' as it sounds like something else you'd like to have a lot of in a marriage! ;)
The following passage has been lifted from my journal, originally written July 31st:
I know I will look back on this year as an incredible time, and also significant. I have some FABULOUS memories (Tunisia, Salou/Barcelona, Avignon, Geneva, meeting Robyn, teaching, meeting Kathleen Riley, Christmas in Hampshire, Ruth and her mom, Simon, Steve, Sarah, Zandra, trains, Alicia in Lyon, the Tour de France, hanging by the Sorgue, when my mom came to visit, hitchhiking, the Avignon theater festival, Whitney in Pertuis, Marseille, Paris with Daniel, &c.), and have read some good books, learned a few lessons (I hope! Though I still stupidly gave my phone number to a Chezch I never planned on seeing again in Geneva), made a few decisions, changed them, ammended them, changed them back, realized a few things (like I like France, I LOVE Europe, I won't know if the Foreign Service is the right thing for me until I do it but for right now it feels like a right and good and exciting direction), can cook a *little better, can travel a lot better, have weathered a few things, and am addicted to travel, wine, cheese, patatas bravas, Tabasco sauce, bastogne cookies, plain croissants (as opposed to pain au chocolats, which are nice, but not the same), trains, coffee, writing. I'm working on being more spontaneous and open to what the universe has to offer. I'm learning how to be an au-pair/nanny right now. At first I felt Seignosse (first nanny gig of the summer) was a failure. Now I see it was how it had to be.
***
Today I took a sailing class for 3 hours! I was sailing around on La Manche, learning hardly anything but I didn't mind because I had fun and perfect weather! Enough wind and lots of sun! Now that's what I call bonheur!
And I thought 20 months was young! Try 6 weeks! I'm currently babysitting a 6 week old, who I met 2 weeks ago, so I guess I've 'known' her for 1/3 of her life. Sort of. Anyways, WTF? Honestly, how do people do this parenting thing? And more importantly, why? Trying to get them both taken care of tonight was a handful...good thing the grandparents are next door to lend a hand! I have an even huger respect for anyone who dares have kids...especially when they're close together, or multiples.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Geographic Literacy is Special
Check out this article (which I just noticed is 3 years old...why haven't I heard about this yet? Maybe because I don't work in public schools in the US?):
http://www.redorbit.com/news/oddities/489062/poll_shows_many_cant_find_la_on_map/
Some of what this article talks about I found in my research for the thesis I wrote last year (nobody can find Iraq on a map yet we've all been hearing/seeing/arguing about it and America's policies there for years now).
"...just 14 percent believe speaking another language is a necessary skill."
As an American abroad, who has interested herself in learning a foreign language (or two, sort of), I am the anomoly. I explain this to Frenchies all the time: a lot of Americans think we're the best country ever and don't want to travel or even learn about what's beyond our borders. This isn't all their fault, however: America is A. massively huge, and B. extremely (self)-important on the international scene. For those who don't plan on traveling/living/working abroad or at an international level, speaking another language wouldn't necessarily be necessary. But Americans should start learning second and third languages to higher levels of proficiency, and everyone should at least be able to read a map! These are fast-paced, interconnected times we're living in these days, so I totally support this move by National Geographic (but really, when wasn't the NG the epitome of cool?).
Living as I do right now in a real French family (I don't get out much), French is becoming commonplace...in a group of 13 or so, children and adults, I realized that I was the only anglophone in the group...and the shocking part was that it isn't so shocking anymore. Yes I've been in France for many moons now, but usually always with my 'safe' American posse just a text away. Being the 'American' (a.k.a. the odd one out) has become my accepted, kooky role (one of the many appealing things about the grad school in Geneva I want to go to is that only 6% of the student body are from North America. That's including Canada and Mexico too, presumedly). I don't know what I'll do with myself in September when I'm back in the homeland, and being American isn't necessarily special anymore...perhaps I'll be the snooty Francophile, baguette-toting, French literature-reading, fancy cheese-eating, high fashion wino in the crowd. Wait a minute, minus the high fashion, that's what I've always been, (and I did just pick up a nautical-themed pashmina afghan at a vide-grenier last weekend)!
Things I'm looking forward to:
1. There's this character in the French book I'm reading right now named Annette...we haven't exactly met her yet, but she's the fancy Parisian current-love-interest of Charles and is currently abroad in Scotland...I'm sure that when she enters the scene she'll stir things up and wake up the so far pretty ho-hum tale! I mean, she is an Annette after all!
2. Sailing on Wednesday (weather permitting)! It occured to me today that I'll learn French sailing terminology. Interesting.
3. Aunt Robin and Reid next weekend! I can't believe they're going to be here in a matter of days! Aunt Robin will be coming at the perfect time...mid-month, midway through this au-pair gig, and my summer wine consumption so far has not nearly been what it was last summer in Santa Cruz (yet I still managed to outdrink two recent high school graduates from Memphis while in Sète, like that says anything).
http://www.redorbit.com/news/oddities/489062/poll_shows_many_cant_find_la_on_map/
Some of what this article talks about I found in my research for the thesis I wrote last year (nobody can find Iraq on a map yet we've all been hearing/seeing/arguing about it and America's policies there for years now).
"...just 14 percent believe speaking another language is a necessary skill."
As an American abroad, who has interested herself in learning a foreign language (or two, sort of), I am the anomoly. I explain this to Frenchies all the time: a lot of Americans think we're the best country ever and don't want to travel or even learn about what's beyond our borders. This isn't all their fault, however: America is A. massively huge, and B. extremely (self)-important on the international scene. For those who don't plan on traveling/living/working abroad or at an international level, speaking another language wouldn't necessarily be necessary. But Americans should start learning second and third languages to higher levels of proficiency, and everyone should at least be able to read a map! These are fast-paced, interconnected times we're living in these days, so I totally support this move by National Geographic (but really, when wasn't the NG the epitome of cool?).
Living as I do right now in a real French family (I don't get out much), French is becoming commonplace...in a group of 13 or so, children and adults, I realized that I was the only anglophone in the group...and the shocking part was that it isn't so shocking anymore. Yes I've been in France for many moons now, but usually always with my 'safe' American posse just a text away. Being the 'American' (a.k.a. the odd one out) has become my accepted, kooky role (one of the many appealing things about the grad school in Geneva I want to go to is that only 6% of the student body are from North America. That's including Canada and Mexico too, presumedly). I don't know what I'll do with myself in September when I'm back in the homeland, and being American isn't necessarily special anymore...perhaps I'll be the snooty Francophile, baguette-toting, French literature-reading, fancy cheese-eating, high fashion wino in the crowd. Wait a minute, minus the high fashion, that's what I've always been, (and I did just pick up a nautical-themed pashmina afghan at a vide-grenier last weekend)!
Things I'm looking forward to:
1. There's this character in the French book I'm reading right now named Annette...we haven't exactly met her yet, but she's the fancy Parisian current-love-interest of Charles and is currently abroad in Scotland...I'm sure that when she enters the scene she'll stir things up and wake up the so far pretty ho-hum tale! I mean, she is an Annette after all!
2. Sailing on Wednesday (weather permitting)! It occured to me today that I'll learn French sailing terminology. Interesting.
3. Aunt Robin and Reid next weekend! I can't believe they're going to be here in a matter of days! Aunt Robin will be coming at the perfect time...mid-month, midway through this au-pair gig, and my summer wine consumption so far has not nearly been what it was last summer in Santa Cruz (yet I still managed to outdrink two recent high school graduates from Memphis while in Sète, like that says anything).
Monday, August 03, 2009
Dear Cos,
As I find myself just across the Channel, ("That's not the ocean, that's 'la Manche'," was the response upon my gushing over the Atlantic when at the beach the other day) from many of the cities Jane Austen writes about, voila a letter to my cousin, Ms. Erin Heinz, in the spirit of that greatest of novelistes:
the 4th of August, year of our Lord 2009
Dear Cos,
I write to inform you that I've been getting on exceptionally well here in Normandy. I was able to procure a post as au pair to a most agreeable child of 20 months (Matyas) for the month of August. I arrived on the 29th of July to find a family and environs most suitable to my tastes. Eleonore, his mother, is employed at the sailing club here in Villers sur mer, (she has promised to take me sailing one day!), which is situated only about a dozen or so kilometers from Deauville. We live in a small lodge on the farm of Eleonore's parents, Jacques and Danielle. The great house is absolutely divine, the grounds and rooms exhibiting exceedingly good taste. I am fortunate to visit there nearly every day, as Matyas and I call there to see his grandparents.
I am told that in his day, Jacques was one of the premier horse trainers in the whole of France, and indeed, there are many horses on the grounds. It is all excitement here, as various gentlemen are always coming and going, either bringing new horses or taking charge of one or another. Just the other day I watched a horse arrive whom Jacques informed me had injured his ankle in a race that day. You can imagine how animated Matyas can become, with the animals about! He is particularly attached to the foals, (of which there are four!), and the cows, or "meus" who live just down the lane. I am often taking him on walks to see if we cannot spy the calf (or "bébé meu") amongst them.
The environs are perfectly pastoral...today I took my exercise in the neighborhood and saw horses, cows, dogs, butterflies, flowers, cottages, fields, gardens, corn, &c. Indeed, my only little pleasures (outside of the wonders that come of being in the company of one so young and new to life) I find in the fauna and flora of the neighborhood. The pastures, orchards, wooded bits, and farmhouses are so charming and lovely, I am ever calm and content, and never cease to wonder at my good fortune in finding myself in my present situation. Please do not take this to mean that my life here is all leisure and ease--nothing could be further from the truth!
My duties with Matyas are trying, but as I apply myself to them with vigor, are rewarding in the end. He is becoming more accustomed to me every day, and I am growing more proficient at performing the necessary daily tasks of having a baby in one's charge, (changing diapers, bathing, feeding, playing, &c.). Indeed, as I am learning how to care for a small child, I find myself in awe of those among my acquaintance whom I know to have begun their own broods. I find it is the most exhausting work I have ever undertaken! While I am firmly decided upon not marrying or having a child of mine own at present, still I think I might not be entirely adverse to the idea, after another decade or two has passed.
Indeed, I find myself so occupied with Matyas that I hardly find time to read or maintain communications! His naps each afternoon fly by much too quickly, and I find I have half as much time for reflexion as I would like. As this is a temporary post, however, and I am busy and well-fed, I find I have no reasonable grounds for complaint.
I expect our mutual relations, Mrs. Robin McFarland and her son Mr. Barbier, soon. Projects are not entirely in place, but they are expected in the neighborhood in mid-August. I am eager to see familiar faces from the old (new) country, and especially my dear aunt, who has always been a treasured confidante to me. I confess that except for little Matyas, who is all energy and keeps me entertained and exhausted all the day, this interim would be passing ever so solemnly and slowly, in such anxious anticipation I am, to see these dearest of connexions!
I do hope everyone in your branch of the family is well, and that you are most excellently satisfied with the diversions you have engaged in for the summer season. I have heard reports that your work has been most daring and quite dangerous...please do take care, for all of our sakes! I don't know what I would do with myself if I lost such a witty and companionable fine friend such as yourself! Please write when you have anything of report to report, and know that I will never be satisfied until the day I can see and touch you for myself, and we can pass a great many half hours engaged in the most amiable and entertaining conversation imaginable.
Until then,
Ever Affectionately,
Your dear cos,
Annette
the 4th of August, year of our Lord 2009
Dear Cos,
I write to inform you that I've been getting on exceptionally well here in Normandy. I was able to procure a post as au pair to a most agreeable child of 20 months (Matyas) for the month of August. I arrived on the 29th of July to find a family and environs most suitable to my tastes. Eleonore, his mother, is employed at the sailing club here in Villers sur mer, (she has promised to take me sailing one day!), which is situated only about a dozen or so kilometers from Deauville. We live in a small lodge on the farm of Eleonore's parents, Jacques and Danielle. The great house is absolutely divine, the grounds and rooms exhibiting exceedingly good taste. I am fortunate to visit there nearly every day, as Matyas and I call there to see his grandparents.
I am told that in his day, Jacques was one of the premier horse trainers in the whole of France, and indeed, there are many horses on the grounds. It is all excitement here, as various gentlemen are always coming and going, either bringing new horses or taking charge of one or another. Just the other day I watched a horse arrive whom Jacques informed me had injured his ankle in a race that day. You can imagine how animated Matyas can become, with the animals about! He is particularly attached to the foals, (of which there are four!), and the cows, or "meus" who live just down the lane. I am often taking him on walks to see if we cannot spy the calf (or "bébé meu") amongst them.
The environs are perfectly pastoral...today I took my exercise in the neighborhood and saw horses, cows, dogs, butterflies, flowers, cottages, fields, gardens, corn, &c. Indeed, my only little pleasures (outside of the wonders that come of being in the company of one so young and new to life) I find in the fauna and flora of the neighborhood. The pastures, orchards, wooded bits, and farmhouses are so charming and lovely, I am ever calm and content, and never cease to wonder at my good fortune in finding myself in my present situation. Please do not take this to mean that my life here is all leisure and ease--nothing could be further from the truth!
My duties with Matyas are trying, but as I apply myself to them with vigor, are rewarding in the end. He is becoming more accustomed to me every day, and I am growing more proficient at performing the necessary daily tasks of having a baby in one's charge, (changing diapers, bathing, feeding, playing, &c.). Indeed, as I am learning how to care for a small child, I find myself in awe of those among my acquaintance whom I know to have begun their own broods. I find it is the most exhausting work I have ever undertaken! While I am firmly decided upon not marrying or having a child of mine own at present, still I think I might not be entirely adverse to the idea, after another decade or two has passed.
Indeed, I find myself so occupied with Matyas that I hardly find time to read or maintain communications! His naps each afternoon fly by much too quickly, and I find I have half as much time for reflexion as I would like. As this is a temporary post, however, and I am busy and well-fed, I find I have no reasonable grounds for complaint.
I expect our mutual relations, Mrs. Robin McFarland and her son Mr. Barbier, soon. Projects are not entirely in place, but they are expected in the neighborhood in mid-August. I am eager to see familiar faces from the old (new) country, and especially my dear aunt, who has always been a treasured confidante to me. I confess that except for little Matyas, who is all energy and keeps me entertained and exhausted all the day, this interim would be passing ever so solemnly and slowly, in such anxious anticipation I am, to see these dearest of connexions!
I do hope everyone in your branch of the family is well, and that you are most excellently satisfied with the diversions you have engaged in for the summer season. I have heard reports that your work has been most daring and quite dangerous...please do take care, for all of our sakes! I don't know what I would do with myself if I lost such a witty and companionable fine friend such as yourself! Please write when you have anything of report to report, and know that I will never be satisfied until the day I can see and touch you for myself, and we can pass a great many half hours engaged in the most amiable and entertaining conversation imaginable.
Until then,
Ever Affectionately,
Your dear cos,
Annette
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)