Inside the mind of a 24-year-old traveler...

Packing...

2011-08-22T15:00:00.001-04:00

I'm packing my things. My things. I've worked hard for these things. Some of them define my life, some of these things I've used only once, some of these things comfort me. But they are just things. Things that shed light on the person I am and what has made me who I am. And I am packing them up for them to move out of my reach into a house that I will be living in in a few months time. They will be staying with a man, who, in a few months time I shall call my husband. Who's name I shall take as my own. A person who I shall share my things with.
Never have I ever paused as long and thought as hard about what I am doing as I have now. I am leaving almost everything. I am taking me, everything I am, all I use to go through my day to another city, another place, that I shall live. A place that I shall hopefully call home once I settle in. But it will be a strange place and it will be foreign and it shall at times be lonely. A part of me is so sad. A part of me, bereft.
Everything is leaving me and changing. So quickly. Time is going so fast and so slow all at once, and I find myself struggling to keep up and cope with it.
I shall assume the identity of a man's last name and be known as his. I shall not be making a name for myself anymore but for us. I shall take my boxes of my things, unpack them, and share them with him. They will no longer be mine. But ours. The very idea.
I wonder how I got here sometimes. I wonder how I happened upon this man, my fiancé, how we dated, how we're engaged, and now how we're preparing to be married. How did this independent, determined-to-be-moderately-wealthy, moderate-feminist woman decide to get here. When did I decide to choose this path.
It's in those small little choices, they all add up to here, this very moment that I find myself: sitting in the corner of my messy, unkempt room with boxes scattered about acknowledging that I am about to be a married woman. These are the shoes some women dream of being in. I never did. I was not one of them. I wanted to be single till I died. I never wanted to rely on any man. I wanted independence, to see the world, to live life unhindered. But that's not what my Maker had in mind.
So here I find myself looking at those empty brown boxes asking myself if I'm scared. And I am. I can't explain how scared I am. It envelopes me, keeps me comfort in this corner that I sit on the floor of my room. What if it's a bad choice.....what if my marriage fails.....what if he can't stand me.....what if I can't share my things....what if I lose my identity....what if I change to something I never wanted to be? The "what if's" could swallow me whole. The gravity of the potential of this choice is hitting me.
So where do I go from here? Stop packing? Leave the open-mouthed brown boxes empty? Or do I keep packing?
My good friend Sarah told me "If you want a great marriage, you get on your knees everyday and pray. You stay in the Word. Everyday. You pray Gods will to be done, and that Todd seeks Gods face daily. But you dont let fear rule you, Michelle. That gives the enemy victory and basically tells God the victory He gave you isnt good enough. You surrender Todd over to the Lord everyday....and you don't make him your anchor. Only God is your anchor." Most comforting and truthful words that could ever be spoken into the heart of someone who is fearful and unsure of the future.
So I will continue to put my things in those empty brown boxes, maybe turn up the music a little louder, and make God my anchor. There are few guarantees in life, but thankfully, God is one guarantee I can count on. Daily.

Hello home.

2011-08-21T00:11:00.001-04:00

Charlotte, North Carolina never had a happier visitor.
I practically skipped through customs and danced around the terminal during my three hour layover. I laughed when I saw the American toilets with their seats intact and their toliet paper rolls standing at attention, I cried when I saw that I had free wifi throughout the airport, and I hugged the Starbucks barista and was about to give him a kiss when I remembered that my fiancé wouldnt like that too much. I even looked over the fact that they gave my drink to another customer. I was in America. Land of the free, home of everything wonderfully familiar to me. It was then that I realized how American I was and how proud of that I was. America is a great place.
I wandered the wonderfully American terminal shops and listened to the delicious sound of American accents. I watched the American moms fuss over their American kids. I watched the American customers complain about their orders at either Starbucks or some American restaurant. I watched the American business men talk on their phones and make their plans. Before I went through security to get on my last flight home to Florida, I stepped out the doors of that airport terminal and I inhaled the smell of America. It was glorious. It smelled like freedom and deodorant. It is an amazing smell.
I went through security and made my way onto the plane. I chatted with an American soldier as we went through.
Once on the plane, me and the two ladies sitting in the same row started a conversation that lasted the majority of the flight. I told them about my life and my tales of having seen the world (ok....so just Europe). They told me about theirs, one a grandmother, the other a motivational speaker. we discussed our lives until we landed and wished each other luck as we parted ways. I couldn't have met finer ladies.
I used the free wifi in the airport terminal to text my mom and tell her what I was wearing and where I was standing. I did this until a familiar green truck rolled up and a devilishly handsome man whistled at me. My fiancé came down on a Thursday when he should be working to pick me up.
Then it hit me. It was as if all the hours I hadn't slept during the past month hit me. I struggled to put my luggage in the bed of his truck and crawled into the passengers seat. I was as good as dead. Poor man probably thought I wasn't excited to see him. All I could do was lay my head down on his travel duffel bag on the compartment between him and I and say hello.
Hello to the love of my life and hello to my home.

Going home..

2011-08-20T20:05:00.001-04:00

We made our way back to Madrid to Bella's cousins house. We arrived in the evening and met them at their new apartment. Their new apartment was much bigger and could accommodate us in their living room, they told us as we walked up to their apartment.
We had to leave the apartment at 6 in the morning to get to the airport to fly home. So I figured we would get to bed early and wake up early. Haha. This is Spain and people don't sleep here. I should have known better. Of course I realized this when I walked into the apartment and I saw their friends hanging out in the area we were assigned to sleep in. It was then that I knew we wouldn't be sleeping.
My body had gotten accustomed to the lack of sleep I supposed, primed from graduate school and now traveling Europe and not sleeping was part of it's function almost. So we chatted for a good portion of the night and then went to sleep for 3 hours when everyone went home and/or to bed.
But for some reason I couldn't sleep and neither could Bella. I think we were both nervous and excited about going home. Either way we didn't sleep at all. When our alarms went off we showered and quietly left, already having said our goodbyes the night before.
We traveled down the almost desolate street, with the exception of the occasional bum or drunk, with ghengis and baby Kahn. We made our way to the shuttle and from there got off at terminal 3. My flight was leaving in 2 hours, Bella's in 2 hours and 40-odd minutes. We said our tearful goodbyes. It was strange to think the person I have been spending the most amount of time within the past month I wouldn't see for many months. I got lost with Bella, slept in the same room as Bella, stayed up all night with Bella, ate with Bella, talked with Bella, read with Bella, cried with Bella, cuddled with Bella, argued with Bella.....and just like that....with one plane flight, I would never do that again. It was so weird to think that all those experiences we just had and shared would be over. We would never be able to continue our adventures or have them again.
That sad thought made me take a Tylenol PM while walking through Madrid's security. I also hold that sad thought responsible for making me purchase expensive tax-free Dior perfume before boarding the plane. Once I was on the plane and the engines were droning midair though, I couldn't help but smile through my drowsiness. I was going home. I can't wait.

Cadiz, beach time!...or not.

2011-08-20T01:49:00.001-04:00

We spent a few days in Spain then decided to go to Cadiz, which is on the southern tip of Spain. We hopped on the train in the evening after spending the day in Madrid and decided to spend the night on Cadiz's beaches. When we arrived we walked around the little beach town and enjoyed it's breeze and salty air. We ate at this, of all places, American restaurant where Bella got a burger and I got quesadillas. We were in the middle of eating when we realized that we couldnt spend the night on the beaches. That's really not something two girls should do. So we set out to find a cheap hostel.
We found that a lot of the hotels and hostels were already full so when we found a hostel that looked like an old spanish house had one room left, we booked it. Little did we know that this place would help us have the third most unpleasant yet memorable night of our (at least my) trip. As we made our way up the old marble staircase to our room we were greeted by a dutch (maybe german) man who was just exiting his room and looked at us in surprise and said "oooohhhh american girls??? Welcome!!!" From then on we knew this night was destined to be memorable.
The room was a bit sketch. The windows were wide open, with no screens, to the street. The comforter and multicolored mismatched sheets were sure to have seen better and cleaner days. We were certain the closet contained a dead body but both of us were to scared to see if the ideas our imaginations incited were true. And the shared bathroom down the hall....well let's just say we tried to have zero physical bodily contact with any part of it. We called it a night despite the dilapidated state of the place and snoozed off into dream land.
That is of course until Bella jolted upright in the bed and grabbed me and said "did you feel that?!?!" I groggily awoke and asked her what she meant. She started to panic, so I woke up pretty quickly and started to ask her what was wrong. She stated in an alarming voice that she had got bitten by a spider on her foot and I needed to look at it. Bella has a bad history with bugs that bite her, she's extremely allergic to them. I looked at it and saw two diminutive bumps on her foot. I told her there was no reason to panic, it was probably mosquitoes. Well that made it only a little better. She groused a bit about it and then we both went back to sleep again.
Until she got bitten again. And again. And again. And this is how the night went. All night. Till I finally decided to just stay awake and read a book on my iPad and guard Bella from the bugs and do something with toothpaste.....something that only Bella and I will ever know. Then at 5 o'clock in the morning Bella said she had had enough. So we picked up and left.
We went to this square by a church which happened to have wifi in it, watched people breed their dogs on the front steps of the church and accessed the wifi to find a more legit hotel. We found this "five star" hotel at a reasonable price about a 45 minute train ride away. So we got on the train and by 7:30 we were saying goodbye to the southern coast of Spain and it's mosquitoes.
When we arrived to the station we grabbed breakfast at a small cafe and each stared into either our coffee or in Bella's case her coca cola.
We got to the hotel early so we wandered around then decided to just see if we could use the pool until we could check into our rooms. We did so. As we were laying out by the pool I reflected on the "five star" hotel we were staying in. Hotel Jerez was nice, but it wasn't five star by American standards. Five star for Americans means the newest latest technologically advanced hotel. Five star for Spain, even most European countries, means an old dignified hotel that offers plush but old style amenities. Yes, there is a bathrobe in the room, but no cd/iPod player; yes, it's immaculate in the rooms, but it is by no means new, the rug on the floor is old but expensive. It's interesting to see and note those variances in standards according to the culture.
We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging and leisurely enjoying our dinner. We watched the news at night and blogged until we passed out. Only to repeat it again the next day. It was a great way to spend the last few days in Spain. And I could find myself ready to go home but aware that I would miss these precious last days in Spain. Oh well. All good things must come to an end sometime mustn't they?

Spain

2011-08-19T16:13:00.001-04:00

Checkout time was noon. I love you spain.
We slept in till just before and then headed up the street to check in at a cheaper hotel. It was clean and nice but nowhere near as posh as the one we had stayed in the night before. But you know what? I honestly didn't care. Shower? Check. Bed? Check. I'm good.
We couldn't get in until 2 so we went to this place for lunch and sangrias. We had intellectual discussions about differences of needs under the cover of an umbrella until our determined check in time. It was a good meal for the price we paid but man was it hot out. Spain in the summer is no joke, hot.
We checked in and waited for about 10 minutes for them to get our room ready. It was while we were in the lobby waiting for our room that the second wave of sleepiness hit us. We passed out again.
When we woke up we went to this plaza close to where we ate for lunch and had dinner there. Specifically tapas. Tapas is something I had been wanting to try for awhile since Id read it on Bellas blog. It's basically a bunch of small plates with a sample of food on each plate and you share it amongst people. It was a sweet idea. The only thing I didn't like about it was when you liked something you wanted to get more of it but you had already ordered all these other plates, however it was a really great way to try a lot of different foods.
After dinner we called it an early night and headed back to bed.
Tomorrow's plans consisted of going into Madrid to stay with Bella's cousins for a few days. It was pretty sweet to see how real Spanish people live. I was extremely thankful they opened up their home to us. Their home was the traditional Spanish way of life. Their apartment building was a few stories high; they lived on the third floor. They had the traditional method of hanging clothes on the outside of their building...which was kind of strange because when you did your laundry and hung it up, anybody walking into their apartment could look up and see our unmentionables.....meh....I guess I'm not going to see these people again.
We spent the evening going grocery shopping, having dinner, and staying up late partying in the streets of Spain. It was incredible. Spanish people do not sleep. At all. When 5 am rolled around I was exhausted, but Bella and her cousins where just getting started.
We ended up rolling into bed not too much later. Because Bella's cousins didn't have enough room in their loft apartment to keep us we ended up staying in this garage of sorts. It was in the middle of construction to be turned into a studio. Just when I thought I had slept everywhere....it wasn't bad though. It had a garage door of sorts on the outside and we were right up against the street so we could hear Spain partying for the rest of night and on into the morning. You know you're getting old when your body has a bedtime and Spain made me realized that I was getting old. Still, I was glad to lay my head down and fall asleep to the sounds of the droning garbage men and drunken spanish conversations, as long as it meant I got to sleep.

The last stop before hell...I experienced it.

2011-08-01T01:39:00.001-04:00

I can't even begin to describe my state of mind. The entire night was peppered with sleep but we both never really fully passed out. We changed trains so many times, I honestly really lost track.
We left Florence at 12:30ish and made our way to Pisa where we saw the leaning tower. It was surprisingly diminutive and looked fake, just like a chess piece. Most books call the leaning tower a tourist trap and it is. It's just a bell tower that's was put up improperly (or properly) and that's it. There is nothing else to see in Pisa. I almost regret having tramped across the city with our luggage to see something slightly disappointing. But hey, I can cross it off my life list....that has to count for something.
We made it back in time for the next train to take us to Maliglia (or something named like that). Our plans had changed when we realized we really needed a place to sleep (no duh right?. Originally we were just going to sleep on the beaches of Nice because hostels and hotels are so expensive in Nice, but thats just unrealistic. So we decided to push on towards Figueres in Spain. So pretty much the moment we arrived in Nice we got the next train out to Figueres because Bella said she knew of a really great place to crash there and it was nice and cheap. My kinda of language.
We are currently on the train for Figueres and we have 4 more hours left. My bones ache, my muscles don't know what their function is anymore, my eye color has gone from bloodshot to a yellow jaundice sort of look. My clothes.....well lets just say I'm not the most pleasant creature to be around right now. I feel bad for the poor souls who have to sit next to me.
Bella has passed out pretty consistently on each train despite it's been only for 2 minutes, it's humorous to see her nod off to sleep. Our moods, like the London/Brussels fiasco has been all over the map. We went from giggly to silent, to disbelief at our current situation. For the most part I have been pretty quiet, conserving my energy while Bella expends it and then passes out. I think we've only gotten on each others nerves a few times, otherwise it hasn't been too bad (ie. as in we haven't wanted to kill each other yet). Actually I take that back, I have wanted to pop Bella a few times when she randomly hits my backpack or smacks me. Otherwise, it's been amicable, mostly because I believe were both too tired to do much else......I think I'm about to nod off...be back in a sec.

So I actually never got the chance to continue that post during the train ride...mostly because I don't think my mind would have functioned to be able to do that. However I'll pick up where I left off. We had changed trains a few more times until we were finally on a train for Montepelier. That train was supposed to make a stop where we would take another train to Figueres. Or something like that. By now, you've either taken a cue from what I've just said or read Bella's blog (www.bellaseurope.blogspot.com) and know that never actually happened.
Unfortunately someone decided to end their life by jumping out in front of a train. This occurs rather often in France. This was the second time Bella was experiencing this in her travels abroad and my first. The entire process delayed us by 2 hours causing us to miss our train that would take us to Figueres. While this was incredibly unfortunate, we did our best to make light of the situation (ie. a few jokes on the behalf of the person who made this unwise decision) and make some friends.
Two French guys became our new best buds, well Isabella's really. I didn't really feel like talking to anyone because I hadn't slept for about 30ish hours and smelled like dirty socks that had been left in some guy's gym bag for 42 weeks. But once I got past that I managed to play a few card games with them and join in on the conversation. We talked about almost everything. It was interesting to see their perspective and hear their opinions on situations and ideas. Though I doubt we got a realistic accurate view of the French population's beliefs as one of them was an ex-gymnast and the other a recently-graduate fashion student, who was gay. Regardless it was interesting.
Two and a half hours later we got off at a stop that the train company had directed us to get off at so we could get on our next train that would take us to another stop so we could get on the bus that would take us to Figueres. This was the only way they could get us to our destination really, and while I appreciated that they didn't just let us fend for ourselves despite paying our way I couldn't help but resent them a little bit for not just getting another freaking train to take us to Figueres. But as I didn't know how trains operate, I overlooked it. They fed us on the train and I made the huge mistake of having nuts on an empty stomach before I got on the bus. my stomach was cramping hard core before I got off the train and I was afraid I was going to lose everything I had just ingested.
While waiting for the bus to come and take 100 of the 200 people to their destination. "Wait, you say, what happened to the other 100 people?" Well sad to say I have no idea. Bella was determined to get on that bus. The scene was just like what Bella had told me it was like when we sat down on the bus "the last bus out of Saigon." I can barely recall anything but Bella shoving me into the middle of stinky smelly people to be one of the first people on that bus. Now if you know me, you know I'm not a terribly affectionate person, and that I enjoy my personal space. Well that night, personal space was no longer an issue as much as getting on that last bus. I feel like a different person after that experience.
Once on the bus, my body started honing in on the stomach pain which may or may not have drawn a few tears from my eyes (I will neither confirm nor deny this, merely leave it up to the people to make this decision as to whether I'm a pansy or not). Bella thought I was going to die while I coped with the pain and started to feel really bad about the whole situation. The only thing I could think about was how this was so out of a movie. The girl dies after going out on this adventure with her friend, while the friend thinks it's her fault for dragging her out there. Only she didn't drag me....I went willingly. I laughed it off and promised I wouldn't die. I think she still was a little worried until in the midst of my body's desire to put me in pain for eating those nuts, I heard people talking and laughing in a different language. Bella has the amazing ability to understand a bunch of languages and I have the amazing ability to still be curious and nosy about what people are saying even if I am dying. So I asked her what the people were saying. Bella cautiously asked me what who was saying....I think she thought I was hearing the voice of God. I told her the people behind us. She asked me in bewilderment why I wanted to know what the heck the people behind us where saying when I was feeling crappy. I think she then realized I wasn't going to die. Or maybe I was and had decided I'm gonna die being nosy. Either way.
We traveled through the night and arrived at Figueres around 12. We hailed the next cab and Bella told him where to take us. The hotel that was nice and cheap was closed for the night so he brought us to this other hotel that was open.
Grimy, sweaty, stinky, and looking like we ourselves had gotten run over by a train walked into the nicest hotel I have ever seen since ive been in eruope. I really couldn't help but notice the irony of the situation. For €80 a night we could stay. That was a lot. Bella looked at me....I looked at her. And we caved. The man checking us in could have asked for anything...I would have probably given it to him for only a shower and a clean bed. I am so human.
I wanted people to know I was alive so I took advantage of the wifi and texted and skyped a few people then I passed out for the best sleep of my life.

Beautiful Florence....

2011-07-30T06:20:00.001-04:00

Today we rolled out of our hotel around 11ish and set out to see Florence. I could tell that I was beginning to like Florence just from having walked around the previous night. But after we got tickets for a hop on/hop off bus and were an hour into our tour, I knew I loved it. It's a peaceful historic town with enough bustle to keep it interesting. We toured the whole city including an outside city called Fiesole. I could talk to you at some length with all the sights I've seen but per the usuaul I'm just going to sum up the highlights.
There was a small plaza that overlooked the entire city, I took some of the pictures and posted them on Facebook, but they really don't do a quarter of the justice they should towards demonstrating the beauty of the city. But they do give you some idea. In that plaza there was a bronze copy of Michelangelo's David sculpture, it was quite astounding. I was anxious to see the real one. I also saw the duomo, a beautiful church that is made of some incredible materials, not all of them I can recall, but the majesty and craftsmanship of that church just took your breath away. I also saw the hills where Galileo put his telescope and discovered some of the celestial beings we know today. I also saw the streets where only the rich shop; hermes, ferragamo, fendi, gucci, and other shops flanked streets where only the rich and famous were known to come.
As the evening fell, Bella and I happened to come across a crowd of renaissance style dressed people. We decided to follow them through the streets and see what they were up to. It was a good decision. It was apparently a festival that they did every year. The mayor of Florence was there, as well as his security, still it was fun to pretend to be apart of it all and see it unfold. They wandered through the streets and when they came to a plaza where famous sculptures where, I lost interest in the festival.
Bella suggested we split up for an hour so we each could things we were interested in doing. I went straight for the statues and sculptures.
I don't really think of myself as a person who appreciates sculpture but you couldn't not help appreciating these incredible forms and their life like qualities. I wandered around for awhile, allowing myself to get lost, and stumbled across this artist who was playing his songs underneath the sculpted buildings. The guitar strings and his voice reverberated off the buildings and the people crowding around to sit and listen added a charming atmosphere to the moment. I sat for a good 40 minutes enjoying his music and watching the deep blue Venetian sky turn black. It made me sad that I was enjoying the moment alone. It's so much more fulfilling to share those moments. But I was were I was and I determined to enjoy it as best as I would allow myself.
I soon had to meet up with Bella so I left my corner spot next to a sculpture of a male who was holding up what I think was medusa's head in victory. I met her at the hotel and we reviewed how we would get to Nice, France.
It was going to be one of the longest nights I've had in Europe. The train left the station at 12:38 and we changed trains 4 times throughout the night and arrived in Nice at 10:30 the next morning. Hotels and hostels are both really pricey in Nice so I don't think we're going to spend the day/night in Nice, but if we pansy out maybe we will. But for now our plan is to go 36 hours without sleep....roughly speaking. This is going to be a challenge. I'm pretty sure this will be rock bottom for both of us.
Cheers.

Later Rome...

2011-07-29T04:38:00.001-04:00

We had made plans to see the Vatican and the Sistine chapel today, however we were so anxious to get out of Rome we decided to ditch the pope and Michelangelo's new paint job on the ceiling. We high-tailed it to the main terminal and proceeded to get on the next train out of Rome, pronto. However a fire broke out on the tracks and backed up every train in and out of Rome. So the place we were desperate to get out of, was keeping us there.
With our specific tickets we couldn't book a train until the next day, all the trains leaving today were for regular ticket holders.....and we didn't want to be there for another day. So we did what two ordinary girls would do in a situation like that...we just got on the next train out and decided to take our chances of getting kicked off.
The train we got on was packed and delayed by an hour. There were hardly any seats left when we got on so we snagged some first class seats. My conscience started kicking in though and I knew we, as global pass holders, shouldn't be sitting in first class seats when we didn't pay for them. I also had a premonition that if we continued to sit there they would charge us the €104 they charge first class ticket holders and frankly I wasn't going to cough that up.
So I convinced Bella to sit on the floor because surely the conductors would take pity on us and wouldn't charge us if we played dumb and were sitting on the floor. At least that's what I hoped. Sure enough, the conductor checked our tickets, told us we shouldn't be on the train because we didn't have legit tickets but said he wouldn't charge us. Score. So we rode the rest of the way on the cafeteria floor to Florence.
The first thing I noticed when I got off the train in Florence was their strange patches of garden grass. It was kinda random, but nonetheless pretty to see. Bella and I went to go stand in line to grab our tickets for Madrid, Spain. And after waiting 45 minutes in line we got cut off by an Asian woman desperately trying to cut into the line. A couple of people fielded off the woman by telling her to go to the back of the line but once she got her waterworks going someone let her cut in front. Me and Bella were really aggravated but the Italian man behind us told us that they do this all the time.
We managed to get our tickets....and it wasn't pretty. We would have to take the night train from 12:38 to 10:00 the next morning. We didn't have much of a choice so we took them.
Next thing to do was to get a hotel or a hostel of some sort. We walked around for a bit before deciding, instead of finding wifi and booking it online, to just walk in and ask how much. The first three places were booked but we actually got a good price for our 3rd hotel. So we booked and set up our home for the next 12 hours there.
After we settled in we walked around the outdoor market places and allowed the Italian guys to flirt with us and give us a bracelet. We settled on eating at a place outdoors right next to the road. The wine was a little disappointing but the food was overall good. We called it an early night and decided to recoup for our 30 hour trip tomorrow. Should be interesting hopefully we don't kill each other.
Cheers.

Sightseeing Rome

2011-07-28T14:09:00.001-04:00

Today we purposed to wake up early and conquer Rome in a day.
Despite having late night hostel peeps come in, we managed to wake up at 7:30 and hop on the bus that would drop us off at the Prima Porta station, so we could get on another bus that would drop us off on the Saxa Rubra train that would bring us to Rome. We arrived there a little after 9 and noted that we had been dropped off right in front of the Piazza Del Popolo. The Popolo, known as the "Peoples Plaza" had been the site for public executions back in the day and was a architectural beauty. It had a fountain in the middle flanked by lions and gods on the north and south side of it. It was incredible.
Bella and I didn't realize how lucky we were to arrive so early. It was very quiet and extremely peaceful. We walked down Via Del Corso and saw some of the shops before deciding to get breakfast. It cost €24 to get breakfast, which is a pretty penny when all we got was 3 croissants and a gelato. We continued on south before deciding to get on one of those hop on/hop off buses. That was a very good decision.
We saw everything in about 2 hours. The colosseum, the piazza navona, the Vatican, everything. We then decided what we wanted to see and then went from there.
We saw the Vatican, the Piazza Venezia, the Fontana di Trevi, the Pantheon, we saw a lot. I also learned one of the most pick pocketed places in Europe is at the Fontana di Trevi, so I rocked the pregnant backpack look for pretty much the entire day.
We did a lot of walking that day. By the time 7 o'clock hit my feet were hurting so badly I seriously thought about walking on my knees. The crowds were getting heavier and traffic was a nightmare.
We decided to go home around that time as we had put in a full day. We took our usual route to the hostel via metro, train, bus, boat, mammal, plane, and canoe. We got there and went to the bar and enjoyed a pitcher of sangria, a treat to us for surviving such a long day. We then headed off to our room and got ready for the night.
I had purchased Tylenol PM while in England and suggested we take one should we have more late night hostelers come in and wake us up. Bella took two and I took two as well. 20 minutes into having taken it we both were having a difficult time staying awake.
Hopefully we'll still be able to wake up tomorrow at 7:30. I guess I'll find out.
Cheers.

First impressions - Rome

2011-07-25T12:10:00.001-04:00

Today we checked out of our luscious hotel in Campagion Lupia. I started missing it immediately when we pulled away from the worlds smallest train station platform. Our plans today consisted of partaking in the actual city of Venice. We were in the outskirts of the city and because there had been both a train and bus strike yesterday we were unable to get into the actual city. However, today we determined that we would get into the actual city. We managed to do that, however as the entire area had been on strike there were quite a few people that had the same intentions as us. So when we got off the train, we were greeted by a flood of people and their luggage. The throngs of people made us change our mind. Plus the fact that we had to lug around Genghis Khan (our pet name for Isabella's 40lb luggage) for the day. So we hopped on the next free train to Rome.
It was a 6 hour train ride that was so boring I actually nodded off (I've never done that before). Half way through however it started filling up and we had to give up our seats as people came in with reservations. So we sat in the hallway of the train and joked about how we would go into the couchette (little rooms inside the trains that had seats that could slide down into beds) that we were outside of and wake the sleeping people.
Well the conductor came in and ordered the sleeping people to make room for the people waiting outside (like me and Bella) and then he ordered us in. So there we were sitting across three guys we had just made fun of earlier and said we were going to wake up. But surely they didn't speak English. Ha. They were Irish and understood English perfectly. Fantastic.
Bella has no inhibitions so she started cheerily chatting them up. They grudgingly answered her questions before they started to really warm up to her. Meanwhile all I could do was try to repress my gag reflex from the horrible man odor that was contained in that couchette and smile. After a while though when my nose became desensitized, I joined in the conversation and enjoyed their stories for the next hour. They were backpacking and had been to quite a few places and had insulted a few people along the way. They entertained me and Bella till they got off at Florence.
Me and Bella continued to ride the train and got off when we arrived at our destination, Rome. Arriving in Rome has helped me realize how important first impressions really are. Rome, at first glance, is not impressive. Regardless, I tried to keep an open mind as we wandered around the station trying to figure out what we were doing. I realized I was getting hungry, so we decided to feed our empty stomachs with whatever looked like it was reasonably priced and tasty. We passed a few restaurants within the station and I nearly cried when I saw a restaurant with the sign Roadhouse Grill.
In one moment I was in Rome, then a second later I was at home; mentally I was home. Seeing that sign made me miss my culture, my American-ness, it made me miss my English language, it made me miss Gainesville, it made me miss Archer road, it made me miss my family, it made me miss everything that contributed to who I was. I now understand when people come to America from another country and have a hard time letting go of their own culture. It's hard.
We walked outside the station to a little restaurant and had some pizza which wasn't too bad. I tried to get some water, you know regular tap water but the lady kept trying to sell me bottled water until I finally made my point. She gives me this cup, a cup about the size that the dentist gives you your fluoride in, with a bit of water in it.......don't be so generous with your water.
I have found that staying hydrated in Europe is a bit of a challenge. In the states, you can get tap water pretty much anywhere. In Europe, they sell you bottled water and give you tiny cups of tap water, should you not want to pay for it.....kinda like me. Coke, sodas, pop, whatever you prefer to call it comes in a can the size of a RedBull, or if it doesn't come in a can, you get it in a cup and they'll charge you for refills. Europe wants you to die by heat stroke if you're poor. So I guess I'm going to die by heatstroke. Anyway, I just needed to complain about that.
After our late lunch, we go down to the metro. Now when I say down, I mean the pit of hell. 5 long flights of stairs down, oh, and Europe doesn't believe in elevators. So we haul my luggage (aka baby Kahn) and Bella's luggage (Genghis Kahn) down those 5 flights and manage to make it to the bottom after we passed purgatory. We board the metro to Floriana (or some name like that) while trying to not make it obvious to surrounding passengers that we were breathing heavily and seriously out of shape due to our luggage. We were on it for about 3 stops when we realized we were going in the wrong direction. Half-tired and delirious we giggled about it and laughed about something regarding a troll and pink hair (something that now I only half understand....it was a long day).
We got back on the right metro and headed in the correct direction, only to get off and get on another metro going in a different direction. After that we had to get on a train that took us to Saxa Rubra, then take a bus to Porta Prima, then take another bus to our hostel. It took as long as you can imagine that it took. About 2 hours from Rome to our hostel.
We arrived at our hostel, Camping Tiber, tired and anxious to get some sleep. We checked in and walked to our room. It was....interesting. I always have to remind myself to lower my expectations when I know I'm going to be sleeping at a hostel. Simply put, I was glad to have a bed to sleep in, a shower to clean myself in, and a roof over my head. Never mind the mattress was questionable and the springs squeaked, the shower only had cold water, and there was no air conditioning; we had a place to sleep, that's more than some people have. Still I'll never forget the sound of Bella's voice echoing in the bathroom when she quietly told me she missed home and wanted to go home........I knew exactly how she felt.
Cheers.

Venice...beautiful Venice.

2011-07-22T19:37:00.001-04:00

We made it out of the hotel room at 7:20 am in Milan only to sit down in the dining room to enjoy some more of that delicious buffet. That buffet was too good to miss out on. After ingesting some more croissants and cheese we made it to the bus stop on time which took us to the train station. From the train station, we hoped that nobody would strike so that we could get on the train and go to Venice. Nobody stroked/striked (not sure which is the proper way to say that), so we hopped on the train bound for Venice. It was a four hour train ride coupled with more beautiful scenery. But what made this trip so especially interesting was the gentleman both Bella and I met on the train.
Bella and I have the habit of talking and assuming that no one understands what were saying, because they usually don't. We never say anything incriminating, we just.....speak freely. Anyway so we were chatting, like we usually do, oblivious to the train filling up with people and had a discussion on the people in our lives. The conversation carried on for some time until I had to pull something out of my backpack. Well the first thing I pulled out of my backpack was my bible as it had been resting on top and what I needed was underneath. We carried on with our chatter until the gentleman sitting next to Bella, who was sitting across from me, piped into our conversation.
Gilbert, that was his name, was an American soldier who had been stationed in Italy for three years. He asked about us and what we were doing there. Told him we were seeing the world and he expressed surprise at that, especially when he found out Bella had already been backpacking for two months by herself. We talked about this whole "seeing the world while you're young bit" before we got down to the nits and grits of the conversation. At least that's why's I'm sure God put us there.
He mentioned he saw me busting out my bible and asked us what our religious backgrounds were. We told him and he proceeded to tell us a bit about his background. He was the son of a baptist preacher when he lost his mom to brain cancer. Shortly after his dad also passed away a few years after, also with brain cancer. He told us he hadn't really talked to God since then, because he first didn't understand, then because he simply didn't know how to.
This introductory story birthed a great conversation. We explained the attributes of God (ie. loving, kind, merciful, etc.) and encouraged him to just talk to Him. We talked about aspects of the bible and challenged him (hopefully) to get started in the right direction. Prior to getting off the train he thanked us and we told him we'd be praying that he gets busy praying.
We made it to Venice and drank in it's beauty before getting on the next train to take us to our hotel. Little did we know our hotel was an hour away and in the middle of nowhere.
The station we got off at was so small we nearly missed the platform. Seriously, that is the first smallest train station I have ever seen. The next step was to find our hotel.....this, we thought, would prove to be difficult. The area we were in was heavily flanked by fields and rural communities. We walked out into the road and tried to get our bearings....to no avail. So we asked a young Italian woman in the parking lot to help point us in the direction of our hotel. We showed her the directions and she sent us off in the right direction.
Only problem was the direction included no sidewalk....the area was so rural the streets didn't have sidewalks....which meant we would have to walk into oncoming traffic. Well I saw no other way of getting there, so I started walking down the two way lane; Bella started questioning my sanity. So I asked her how she would prefer to get there, fly?
Thankfully we didn't have to construct wings to fly or walk into oncoming traffic. The young Italian woman who gave us directions pulled off the side of the road and compassionately encouraged us to get into her car. All I kept saying was "graize, graize." She drove us no more than 5 minutes away and dropped us right off at our hotel. We tried to give her money but she refused, despite our extreme insistence. We thanked her, got her name (Melena), and thanked her again. God bless her Italian soul.
Our hotel....was ostentatious. Seriously. And I can't believe how little we paid for it. Ill upload pictures but it had stone floors, high ceilings, brocaded draperies, and amazing croissants. It also has breakfast for the guests every morning....I'll stay here thank you very much.
We took a tour of the town after we settled in. It's a quaint town. People know other people passing in the street, that's how small it is. We stopped off at a pastry shop and got pastries for €.90 each then sauntered off to a street restaurant/bar and had small sandwiches and white wine for €2.50. Seriously, I could get used to a place like this.
We made it back to the hotel and decided to dedicate the evening to updating our blogs and responding to emails. That is where I find myself now....except now....I'm going to go to bed so that tomorrow I can officially see Venice. Despite the strikes.
Cheers.

Milan - Brand acknowledgement

2011-07-21T17:08:00.001-04:00

I first would like to take a second to acknowledge the brands that support me and this blog and keep us going. Today has been brought to you by croissants and borocillina. Now back to our regularly scheduled blog.
Today we woke up to a buffet of breakfast at the hotel for only €4,50. We stuffed our faces. I discovered yogurt that exists in heaven and in Italy, I tried croissants that they keep from us Americans because they acknowledge that if we knew if their secret we'd be ten times fatter than we already are, I had a sampling of the cheese and Rachel.....you would die. If I could can it up and bring some to you, you would stop living in Georgia and move to Italy, specifically Milan. Breakfast is not taken lightly here in Italy.
We finally decided after we looked like we were 9 months due that we should waddle to the bus stop to hit up good ole Milan. So we waddled.
We got on the bus and were about to put in our money when we realized their system only takes tickets. We (specifically Bella, because I don't speak Italian) told the bus driver we didn't have tickets but we had money for our bus fare and the bus driver graciously let us on despite not having tickets....and despite his grousing. He took us to the train station and we went from Monza to Milan in 15 minutes.
Around this time I started to feel a tickle in my throat......no. No, no, no body, it's vacation time and I am not getting sick. By the time we got to the station, I was not looking so hot (Bella sweetly told me this) and was feeling rundown not to mention the throat was feeling worse. So we stopped off at pharmacy conveniently located in the train station and tried to explain to the pharmacists what I had. It was quite humorous to watch Bella explain to them what I was feeling and then have the pharmacist turn to me and rattle off a bunch of questions in Italian. I could not understand at all and just looked at them helplessly. He shook his head and shoved something into my hands, nodding his head assuringly. I trusted him, despite my reservations, and bought it. I took it almost immediately after buying it, looking to see if it would provide relief. Did it ever. I looked at the box I purchased, Borocillina. I couldn't read/interpret any of the Italian ingredients in it but I determined I would bring it back to the states for my grandmother, Meme, to examine. Till her verdict comes out on it, Italian medicine is something I shall always respect.
We walked out of the station and appreciated the view. Milan in daylight looked much less intimidating than at night. The women dress stylishly and always wear heels with no less than 4 inches. The men....well there are some improvements that could be made in that department, though Bella swears they're all hot, even the bus drivers (I would say the bus drivers are average, hardly hot). Nonetheless, I let Bella drool over the Italian men. We walked around for a bit and realized there wasn't much to see. So we wandered by this underground restaurant and decided to venture into it. In this little cove, we found hunky Italian suited men eating their lunch; I felt like we had walked in on the mafia. We got a table nonetheless and enjoyed tiramisu, another dessert that I don't know the name of, and red wine. It was very lovely until we realized the place was deserted. After inquiring we discovered they were closing....at 2...in the afternoon.
We shuffled our way on out and decided to go back to the little town we were at, Monza, and enjoy that instead of the city bustle of Milan. When we arrived back we walked down a shopping area of sorts. I'm certain there is a name for it but I don't know what it would be. It was so typical Italy. It had shop lined streets and the houses on the second floors with their balconies and flowers hanging out. We wandered around for a few hours, talking, sightseeing and enjoying some gelato. It was extremely nice.
When it had become late enough we decided to go back. Little did we know that 7:30 is rush hour traffic in Milan and the surrounding areas. Little did we also know that the bus drivers are allowed to talk on their cell phones. Now we know (also all the buses are mercedes buses, Italians sit in the lap of luxury).
We made it back to the hotel and called it a night after I repacked my suitcase for the third time that night. Tomorrow we're going to set out for Venice. There is also supposed to be a strike for trains and buses tomorrow, so we'll see if we make it. Till then....
Cheers.

Milan, fashion capital

2011-07-20T04:58:00.001-04:00

At 5:40am Belgium time, my butt was out of bed. Which means it was 11:40pm Florida time. It was weird to think that while I was getting up the peeps I know in my home town were going to bed getting ready for the next day, which for me had already started. We bustled our way to the station and then headed off on to begin our 14 hour trip to Milan. The first leg of it was 8 hours long and the destination was Zurich. This part of our trip took us through the better parts of Belgium, Germany, Luxembourg, and France. We jumped off at Luxembourg so that we could say we've been to Luxembourg; literally stepped off the train and stood there for 1 minute on the platform and then got back on the train. We can be lame sometimes.
While being in a train all day is pretty lame in of itself, the scenery passing by outside our windows kept me from falling asleep, unlike Bella....who passed out the first second she got. She passes out when she's bored, and being on a train all day is pretty boring....though really she's just half cat.
The scenery was gorgeous though. I saw abandoned buildings in such beautiful settings that made me crave my "real" camera. I saw meadows that made me swear Bambi was filmed there. I saw meandering meadows that reflected the mountains they sat beneath. I saw pine trees I thought only existed in the imagination. I saw deprived impoverished communities. I saw a picturesque lake with an abandoned canoe nestled in the cove of a mountain. Truly Belgium and Luxembourg is made up of beautiful scenery.
Switzerland was even more beautiful. We had to go through the Swiss Alps to get to Milan and wow......words cannot describe the majesty I saw. The mountains looked like what you would see on screensavers. They were snow capped with cascades of water coming down the sides and they stretched for miles. It was amazing.
We had to switch trains due to a landslide which made our arrival into Milan an hour and some change later than we anticipated. Regardless we arrived. And it was raining. It rains at almost every city we first arrive at. Anyway we scurried off the train and headed down the platform that reminded me of London's platform, however stepping out into the lobby it was apparent we weren't in London. The train station alone exhibited incredible architecture. The ceiling was high and flanked by etched faces while the floor was covered by mosaics. It was very beautiful and I would have appreciated it more had I not had a nagging feeling. I felt like I was being watched.
Milan was pretty alive at 10:30 at night. So we attempted to get ourselves a place to stay for the night at the local internet cafe. We did so successfully and wandered outside to find ourselves a taxi. Walking down the streets was a strange feeling; I still felt like I was being watched.
Bella and I were talking as we walked towards the taxi area and she mentioned she felt like she was being watched; I was glad I wasn't the only one who felt like this. For awhile I thought my imagination was overreacting.
We managed to make it to the hotel safe and sound. We were excited about our digs; the hotel was new and had unlimited wifi. This, to us, was heaven.
We scrambled into our beds and surfed the internet till we fell asleep.
I like Milan already.
Cheers.

Belgium, land that I shall never visit again.

2011-07-19T01:02:00.001-04:00

The first thing I noticed about Brussels train station is that it is very clean....and everything is written in French. French isn't so bad if you can speak and read it. Unfortunately, I can do neither.
We made it to the ticket counter and purchased the next day's tickets to Milan, a 13 hour train ride through the Alps for about $20 each. We then attempted our way to our hotel. I had incorrectly booked for the wrong date and we were both hoping I could just finagle a few things and get the date changed to today as they seemed to still have a few rooms left.
It was on our way to the hotel that Brussels made it's first grand appearance to me. It was a 60 degree, dreary, semi-rainy day when it first made it's introduction to my sleep deprived eyes. Concisely speaking, I wasn't impressed with it. The few skyscraper buildings and lack of bustle told me everything I needed to know; Brussels didn't have much to offer to it's visitors other than chocolate.
We ended up getting a cab for about $10 bucks each because we had no idea where the hotel was. The cabbie was from Morocco, his name was Abel. After dropping us off I marched into the Residence Aryaan and finagled. We got the room for €50 (about $70) which was a better price than for some of the hostels in the area. Check in time was 2, but the clerk told us we could be back by 1-1:30 and it would be ready. We got some food at a small local restaurant, it looked kind of sketch, but ended up being really good. After eating we were even more tired and made our way back to the hotel. Our room didn't end up being ready until 2:15. I could have choked the clerk, but a room was a room, however long it took (still could have choked him though). Once inside we took showers and went straight to bed. Never mind the bed was made of cement and the pillows were cobblestone rocks they put a pillowcase over; it was a bed. We slept for about 3-4 hours till we roused. Bella went to feed her Internet addiction for about 2 hours while I decided to catch up on writing my blog.
I wrote until she came back; turns out she didn't use the internet. A Congo woman was using it...she was catching up on her Congo news. We debated as to what we would do with the rest of our evening.
I should tell you something. You know when you think of the capital of a country you think bustling city? Well Brussels is not that. We were in the heart of it and a car would drive by our street every 10 minutes. And we were pretty much on a main road. So judging by the lack of traffic, not to mention activity, we judged that we wouldn't be doing anything tonight; not because we didn't want to, but because there was nothing to do.
I think I have come to the conclusion that Brussels is my least favorite city. I feel that I have seen a healthy sample of the men in Brussels and my conclusion is that they are all......well I probably shouldn't say anything. It probably wouldn't be politically correct.
Nevertheless there is not much to do or see in Brussels. My advice regarding Belgium? Skip it altogether if you can. It has good chocolate (though I haven't tasted any yet, but I've been told) and waffles (haven't tasted that either). But so far as I can tell the two inventions came about due to boredom.
We slept the night away and listened to the sounds of motorcars racing by our window at 80 mph. I'm excited to get on our train tomorrow at 7:33 to take me to Italy.
Belgium hasn't been the most pleasant experience, but never the less it was an experience. One that hopefully I shall never repeat.
Cheers.

Stuck in London.

2011-07-18T15:26:00.001-04:00

I don't like you London. In fact I've decided I don't miss you either.
Today began as any ordinary day (but then again my days haven't been too ordinary lately so maybe I shouldn't use that phrase). Bella and I both did our laundry, watched a movie, and sat around waiting for our flight at 6:10. We were taking a certain flight company out of London, RyanAir, maybe you've heard of them. Based in only Europe, they are notorious for their lack of customer service and "you're on your own attitude." Rumors can be heard that their pilots are pilots in training but I tried not to entertain that idea. Suffice to say we've heard horror stories of RyanAir overbooking their flights and people having to buy another ticket, despite already having bought one. RyanAir isn't big on customer service......Europe in general isn't big on customer service, but that's another story for another rainy day.
In an attempt to ensure that we didn't have any problems I told Bella that we should be there 3 hours early to ensure we make our flight. We did. But 3 hours wasn't really enough. Even 10 hours wouldn't have been enough. But I digress. We stood in line to check-in our luggage and heard the horror stories of all the people around us about RyanAir. Ha. We weren't going to be in that same boat. No sir. We is smart.
Well I went to the kiosk and scanned my ticket; it didn't scan (clue 1). I rejoined Bella, she told me our flight times had changed (clue 2). I went to look at my ticket it said 6:10 (clue 3). And then asked a friendly British fellow why I couldn't scan my ticket in. He said "here lemme have a look." I let him look. It was as if it happened in slow motion....he turned and looked at me and said "what time is it?" I replied "I'm here early, it's only 5:10." He looked closely at me and I knew what he was going to say before he said it "oh love, that was 6:10 this morning....we operate on a 24 hour clock here."
Oh...........................goodbye $80 and goodbye Milan, Italy.
Bella looked at my face and I told her the news. We quickly thanked him and got out of the queue (line). We had to create a plan fast. Plane tickets out of Stansted, England were $600. Not an option. We could ask Bella's sister to come back and pick us up. Also, not an option. We could take a train to Paris and then to Milan. That's an option.
So we got on the next train into London. Blasted London. Earlier, we had exchanged all our British currency for the Euro, so we were really going to wing it. I had a few extra dollars on my tube card so that hopefully would get us to where we need to be. Through a few slight of hands, we would pass that one card back between one person to another....the attendants never caught on.
We then arrived at the station, St. Pancras International Station, that had trains that could take us to Paris. The only problem was that they were booked for the next 3 days. Not an option. But he did have two tickets left for Brussels at 6:19am next day.
Now our options were to get a hostel in London which would be a bit pricey and hang out there for the next 10 hours....or save our money (as we just lost $80) and hang out at the train station. I rationalized that 10 hours isn't a long time in the grand scheme of things so we might as well just get those two tickets and wait it out. We bought the tickets and looked at our new surroundings for the next 10 hours. I realized I wouldn't sleep at all that night.
We decided to head to a local McDonalds, get cheap dinner, and use their wifi to get tomorrow nights hostel in Brussels. Booking a hostel shouldn't be that difficult but we ran into a few problems here and there (ie. Booking on the wrong day, losing our deposit, etc). Suffice to say we were delirious enough to laugh it all off.
The McDonalds closed at 1 o'clock so we made our way back to the train station. It hit me like a load of bricks. We were homeless. At least for that one night. It was humbling to say the least. You forget how much you appreciate clean teeth, a nice hot shower, your own space, and mostly your own bed. And do I miss my bed. It was here, during this what I might be inclined to call low point, that I began to think about catching the next flight out of here. It wouldn't take all that much effort. American Airlines would probably be happy to work with me.
But then....where's the adventure? Where's the good stories? Where's the real life nitty-gritty experiences? They wouldn't exist if I didn't do this. So I mentally told myself I was going to do this and I was just going to leave the rest to my Maker. If that moment didn't show me anything else about life, it most certainly showed me that God's in control, even when they are out of control....and that night....I was feeling like it was out of control.
There ended up being a Starbucks that was open all night so we sat there and abused their wifi and played games. Me and Bella also saw each other go through every mood ever known to woman. We giggled, got grumpy with each other, got tired, got moody, I mean every aspect of a woman's human emotion was seen that night. It was a night I shall never forget.
The last few hours dragged by. Bella really had a hard time staying awake. I've never seen a girl fall asleep in 10 seconds. We made it though, and made it onto the train. 3 hour train ride to Brussels under the English Channel and we both slept through it. I only ever recall waking up to the stops along the way, otherwise, I slept like a baby. I hope the previous day's experience doesn't carry on over into our unintended stop in Brussels. But I guess we shall see what the day brings.
Cheers.

Movie day

2011-07-17T18:18:00.001-04:00

Goodbye London; goodbye graffittied walls, Mary Poppins rooftops, gothic cathedral spires that point to the sky, people who give me directions with their friendly British eyes, to their flavor-lacking cuisine, to their fickle weather, to the country that holds within it my favorite prince and princess. I shall miss you. Surprisingly. I didn't think I would miss you all that much, but you were my first. My first country outside of the States to visit and because of you I understand the addiction to travel. I understand why people who do it want to see the world. Because I do too. Even if it is tiring.
Today we spent the day lounging around in bed and then finally rousing at 10am. We watched the movie Marley and Me (which is great movie, do watch, fantastic movie) and finally got out the door at 1-ish. We went to Daniela's and Kyle's old house and helped them clean it so that they can get their deposit back. Cleaning the house was good for my soul. It reminded me of when I cleaned the house with my mom on Saturday's, we'd have good chats, good long soulful chats. I miss those days.
We cleaned for a few hours till deciding that the job was sufficient enough and headed off to the grocery store. We got some stuff and got ice cream, then drove home with the windows down. As weird as it was to be in a small car, driving on the wrong side of the road, that will probably be one of my favorite memories.
We got home and lounged around even more. We watched Invincible and a few other movies. Its been a while since I've watched that many movies. But it was nice and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I prepared for our flight tomorrow which is scheduled to fly out in the evening. I'll probably do some laundry and repack again. But until then I'll just sleep.
Cheers.

Tea with the queen...

2011-07-16T10:10:00.001-04:00

Agenda today? Tea with the queen.
I rolled out of bed later than I intended but I count it an accomplishment when I wake up at all. So I mosy-ed to the kitchen to have breakfast and to get my day started. Today I had planned to go see Windsor Castle; the residence of the queen. It wasn't far from where I was staying at Brunel University. A bus, two trains, and bam. You were literally dropped off at the front door of Windsor Castle. Seriously. Not even kidding. You walk out of the train station, you see the castle, 5 minutes walk later you're at the front door. Very convenient.
I had picked up a straggler, Dr. D, when I met him in the kitchen that morning and I knew he had no exciting plans. So I invited him along on my little excursion. He gladly joined me. So off we went to see the glorious castle. Sovereigns have been living there for the past 900-950 years, it's also one of the oldest castles in England (at least thats what the sign said when I went in). So I knew this would be pretty sweet.
So anyway we arrived there, walked to the castle entrance, which had a pretty massive waiting line, and paid our £15 to get in. They sent us through security, gave us these audio tour devices and sent us on our way. We walked through the outside courtyard which was pretty nice just like a nice stately outside courtyard should be. Told us the surrounding exterior walls that protect the interior was 4 meters thick and that the castle was on a very advantageous spot as it was well protected. We wandered past the exterior part of the walls and wandered into the more central courtyard of the castle. It was here you could look down over the wall and see the most beautiful amazing garden filled with flowers ever. It was so beautiful. I could just imagine Queen Elisabeth walking through the paths of roses in her simple frocks like she does.
I should clarify, like I always like to do, that the entrance to the castle didn't allow us to see everything, just the state apartments, Mary's doll house, and the church within the castle. "Well that's not a lot" you say. Not really. The entire thing took us about 3 hours. And we didn't even see the doll house.
That was itself enough. We didn't see the round tower and the queens private residence because, of course, that's her living space. Though I don't know how one person could use all that space. Anyway.
So we decided to tackle the state apartments. At first I thought we were going to see the "hotel rooms" of the Windsor, but it contained the king and queens drawing room, their appearance room, banquet halls, coronation rooms, etc. I could tell you so much but I realize you have a short attention span so I'll try to hit the highlights. Also you're going to have to use some imagination here as they strictly, and I mean, strictly did not allow photography....even though I did snap one fuzzy photo....but other than that I have nothing to show you when I get home.
So highlights. I saw Rembrandt's self portraits (several actually), Rubens paintings, almost all of the English paintings that were in my European history books in high school, I saw gold covered plates....like the real thing and....the ballroom which I could have died happily in. It was amazing, it was as if Disney's Cinderella ballroom came to life and I saw it today. It had crystal chandeliers, smooth wood floors, tapestry covered walls, high ceilings, mirrors on every other wall, silver tables and paintings tastefully dispersed. I saw the banquet room which was amazing as well. The room was made of dark wood and fruit was carved out in the walls, but in 3D, so the fruit came out of the wall. Greek gods were painted on the ceilings celebrating food (Katherine would have loved this room). It had more paintings over the fireplace with other Greek gods dining. I saw the coronation room. Theres YouTube videos of it. Watch it and know that I was standing in that room.
What else........it's hard for me to remember what I saw because I saw a lot of it. It wasn't opulence that I saw.....it was just a lot of intricate details, but rich intricate details. Something did stick out in my mind....so we're in this castle that belongs to sovereignty and I would walk by a chair where the fabric was worn down or a tapestry was faded and I would think: "Aren't they rich? Can't they fix that?" As I walked along I got my answer. Yes, the queen is quite wealthy and she could fix that, but they measure wealth differently. You're probably aware of old rich vs new rich.... Well same sort of mentality.
She could fix it so that the chair looks newer, but the English value old things, because their history is in that. It doesn't necessarily have to look new for them to demonstrate their wealthy. They would rather leave it as it is and value it for its history rather than for it's newness.
We then walked over to the church and wandered through it. It was very stately and had the helmets and crests of the current knights near the interior, by the altar of the church. What caught my attention in this church however, was an emotive marble statue. It had the body of a young woman lying on a bed covered by a sheet with only her hand peeking out from underneath it. Around her bedside were women weeping in anguish. Above the sheeted marble corpse was a woman looking up to the heavens in joy. She was flanked by two angels, one of whom was holding a small baby. I had a hard time looking away from this marble scene. I was torn between weeping with the women by the bedside and rejoicing with the woman who was looking upward. The audio guide device told us this was made in honor of one the queens who died when giving birth to her child, who also died during the birthing process. This was a common scene in early English history. It was rare women survived birthing children.
Dr. D and I continued walking through the church and then began discussing religion. He is not a religious man but a moral man, so suffice to say it was an interesting talk, one where I may have mentioned Romans."..."........................
We grabbed a late lunch before I headed off to the station to leave Brunel and head to Epping where Bella and her sister lived. We got back in a timely manner and I headed off to the station.
I was supposed to arrive in Cambridge at 7:23 but due to tube delays, train delays, fire on the train tracks delays, and every kind of delay you can think of I arrived there almost an hour and a half late. Kyle, his wife Daniela, and Bella picked me up from the station and we traveled to their brand new home on base. Kyle works for the Air Force and thank goodness he does. It's kinda nice to see familiar American things. Me and Bella got ready for bed and passed the heck out. I was tired. Till tomorrow.
Cheers.

Bath...(pronounced Baath)

2011-07-15T10:08:00.001-04:00

Today was the day I was meant to stick my feet in the English Channel. I could just feel it in my bones when I woke up this morning.
Dr. W had set up an appointment with Dr. E in Bournemouth today and whoever wanted to come could join along. Myself and 6 other people in the program decided to tag along for this appointment with talks of perhaps stopping off at Bath in the way back. We ventured out at 8 in the morning and took the bus which took us to the tube, which took us to the train, which finally....after 4 hours....landed us in Bournemouth (don't feel too much pity for us we amused ourselves immensely, I'll post pictures of the goodness later). Stepping off the train in Bournemouth you could just tell you were in a different place. The air was warmer and there were children screeching. Turns out the sounds of children screeching was actually the sounds of the seagulls.
We met Dr. E there and wandered down the town with our guide. He told us interesting things to do around town, however the only question I really wanted an answer to was the price of gas here. He told me it was about £6 a gallon. That amounts to $10 a gallon (roughly speaking).
......um what? Now I know why smart cars are such a hit over here.
We continued down the slope and soon beheld the English Channel. I could smell the salty air. After 2.5 weeks of no ocean, the smell was delicious. Shoes, backpacks, socks, went flying as we raced into the water. We were clearly Floridians....or tourists...take your pick. We took pictures of it, took pictures of us in it, did everything but submerge our cameras into the water. It was beautiful. After we became one with the water, we became disinterested because our stomaches became interested in food. We went to this little fish and chips place right by the ocean and had our lunch there. We talked to Dr. E and savored our food as well as his answers to our questions.
Concluding the lunch we walked back to the station with glances at an ocean we may never see again. I tried to take it in. It was an amazing view. It's an ocean flanked by cliffs, lands and islands, with red-nosed people ambling by a carnival and ice cream stands peppering the coastline.....I felt that if we all should don Victorian style bathing suits we should fit in perfectly. Hopefully, I shall never forget what it looks like.
We returned to the station and started to plan our trip to Bath. Once we settle what train to take and what direction we should go in, we set out on our journey. Once in the train though I suddenly didn't feel like seeing Bath, so I decided to join Dr. W back to Uxbridge. I felt like I made a good choice. I caught up on my paper a bit more and had lovely conversations with her. We arrived in Uxbridge 2 hours later and I decided to commit the rest of the night to writing some more of my paper. I got bored after awhile and went to the kitchen to eat. Then went back to write some more. Alas, this is where I'm at...still writing my paper...until of course I decided to take another break to blog this. So I suppose I should get back to my paper, eh?
Cheers.

Paper writing un-inspires me...

2011-07-14T16:11:00.001-04:00

I feel uninspired to write.....but I'm going to do it anyway. Today was a hum-drum sort of day. I spent the morning stocking up on groceries, going to the Internet cafe to unload my camera of pictures, and doing some window shopping in the area. I've discovered that their candy selection stinks, they have a dollar store that they call Poundland here, their quality of shoes are way better than ours, and that I miss Wal-mart (never thought I would say that). I was heading back to Brunel when I ran into Dr. W. We talked for a bit before I headed off back to my room to devote myself to my paper some more (I've spent so much time on it I should build a shrine to it). I worked on it until a head peeked into my dorm asking me for salt. As I love the taste of salt (I know this sounds weird, try to withold judgement) I had a couple of packets in my room which I gave her (her being a girl who's also doing the study abroad with Dr. W). I then started to smell these delicious smells. So naturally I investigated the source. Turns out the girls in the program decided to cook a dinner. Sa-weet. I asked if they needed anything, they said more salt. I, being the purveyor of salts in the land of Uxbridge, knew exactly where to get some. I went out and got some and also brought back a bottle of wine. It was time to party. We set the table and we enjoyed. It was really nice.
We chatted about things we've seen, the political state of things, how we met each others spouse/fiancé and funny things that have happened. I had a really nice time. It kind of made me miss home.
We cleaned up and while some went to bed, some others (myself included) decided to stay up until we completed a puzzle (I'm such an overachiever, such high goals I set for myself). We successfully completed the puzzle before calling it a night. It was a rather blasé day, but it was nice because it reminded me that sometimes no matter what you're doing, how many people you meet, how much you accomplish, how much you travel or how much you know, all the people that really matter are the people youre meeting at the dinner table. And hopefully the people you meet at the dinner table are people you love, because that makes for a very enjoyable moment. So enjoyable that I forgot to take pictures of it and if you know me, I like to document everything, so not documenting something because I was enjoying myself says a lot.
Cheers.

Cambridge

2011-07-13T06:44:00.001-04:00

So you know that whole writing the paper for the rest of the week?.....yeah. This morning I went to Cambridge (hey a girl can't work too hard). I had been hoping to see Cambridge before I left and when I heard members of the group were going I decided to hop on that bus. We started out pretty early in the morning (any trek anywhere seems to start off early in the morning) around 8ish. It was me, Carlos, Dan, Hannah, and Dana. We took the tube to Kings Cross which is in the heart of London and took the train straight to Cambridge. The train ride provided me some time to write my paper which I was happy to do (two birds, one stone).
We got off at our destination and started walking. We were sure we were walking in the right direction, but because we weren't positive I asked a construction worker. God bless those construction workers, they sent us in the right direction. We wandered into the city square and saw the pretty shops and stores, stopped in at a few cathedrals (they never cease to impress me, especially when they have gargoyles on them), and got a feel for the city. We then started walking into Cambridge University. Now I should clarify something here, Cambridge isn't like American state or private schools, same with Oxford for that matter. The school is in the entire city. Not even kidding. It's not like you arrive on the property and bam, you're on school property....not even close. It's spread out over the entire city. There is Cambridge itself with Kings college and Queens college but they're now dorms for the students. Their studies are generally elsewhere around the city.
So now that I've placed that in context I'll continue with my story...
We wandered down streets that were lined with collegiate shops selling Cambridge branded articles and I resisted the urge to buy something (was very hard). It was all very lovely until a little Asian guy came upon on us and persuaded us to go punting. He actually pounced on Dana first. Dana was very patient and listened to all he had to say, but when she made eye contact with me, I shook my head. £12 was far too much to pay for each person. My aim was £8. We told him we would think about it and made our way further into the heart of Cambridge. We ran into more punters; £10, nope. A little further and a man name Joe sealed the deal. £8 per person for 45 minutes. Wheeling and dealing paid off.
Wait....you say?.....you want me to go no further until you describe what exactly is punting? Done.
You know those long narrow boats in Venice that lovers sit in while a man pushes them down the river with a long narrow stick and a wide brimmed hat? Well that is punting.....minus it being in Venice.
And the lovers being in the boats? Replace that with tourists....like me.
Punting is a tradition that, supposedly, students at Cambridge, who were generally male, would do to make money on the side. The river they take you on is on the backside of the majority of the buildings. And while they push the boat along they tell you all the tales of each the scholastic buildings. It was a lot of fun. We had a cute cheery-eyed boy, who's name I don't recall, but who's twinkly eyes I shall never forget (I know that sounds dorky but this my story and I'll tell however corny I want to).
Of all the stories he told us, one story stands out in my mind in particular. Prince Charles went to school at Cambridge and as he was the crowned prince he had a body guard with him at all times even in his classes. Well when school was wrapping up for him and final examinations came, Prince Charles' body guard requested to also take the same final exams as the crowned prince. He'd attended all the classes and the directors thought "why not?"
Turns out the bodyguard got higher marks than Prince Charles; now that's a royal slap in the face.
He told us other stories but none of them humored me as much as the one I just told you. I asked our punter if any royalty had attended Cambridge. He hesitated and said that no royalty recently; none of them had high enough marks to get in. So much for noble blood.
The whole thing was great, really great, I could see my Uncle Chuck, a brainiac of sorts and a man who enjoys a good story, really enjoying himself on that. My mom too, for that matter. When we ended our tour, we shuffled off to wander the city some more.
We ended up at this little ice cream shop (never mind that it was a little under 60 degrees), got some ice cream and chatted with the clerk. She told us about Cambridge students and how rude they are. I was a little surprised. She corrected all notions I may have had about what I thought were intelligent, quiet, moderate kids. They were rug rats. She said the whole town cringes when a Cambridge student walks into their store, some refuse to even give them service. She said they are extremely snobby, look down on everyone and don't seem to care much about "commoners" (I thought that term only existed in 1800's London). How atrocious, I thought, good education wasted on souless beings. Such a waste.
We wandered around a bit more till we decided it was time to head home. Once on the train, we were lulled into sleep. I'm telling you those trains have a sleeping substance sprinkled in the air that makes you want to sleep. We got off at Kings Cross and split ways, the girls and Carlos going into London, and me and professor Dan going back to Uxbridge.
Once we got to Uxbridge, which took longer than normal due to signaling delays, we had a beer and swapped stories of our undergraduate years. Dan is a old soul, as I would like to describe him, he's ultra-conservative, has a love for travel (but not any kind of travel, the kind of travel where you fear for your life kind; think South Africa) and is a professor through and through. He could walk down a street and I could have never met him but I could tell you he's a professor; he's just got the look and attitude down. He's got the best stories for any kind of situation and has the best solutions for political problems (though I probably think that because I'm conservative too). One beer then developed into fish and chips until we then decided I should head back to finish my paper. Ever the professor, he gave me direction on my paper and condoned my good leader skills before we headed off to our flats. I would say it sounds like I made an A on today. Score for being teachers pet.
Cheers.

Paper time

2011-07-13T05:35:00.001-04:00

Today's weather was magnificent. Seriously it couldn't have been a more pleasant day, except for the fact that Bella went to Epping to spend the rest of the week with her sister and left me here to finish my last interview and paper. Argh. I hate delaying exciting things and life for school. Nonetheless, I have priorities and responsibilities so after seeing Bella off on the tube I went to the library to write my paper. I stayed there for a few hours and after writing about a third of it I headed back to my dorm. I did some laundry, rearranged my suitcase, talked with some fellow students, and read a book. Overall a nice relaxing day spent inside when there is beautiful weather to be enjoyed outside. We're supposed to have nice weather for the rest of the week which stinks because for the rest of the week I'll be working on my paper. Lame-oh.
Nonetheless I'm determined to enjoy the rest of the day in some fashion, perhaps go to the pub and finally indulge in some fish and chips. We shall see where the wind takes me won't we?
Cheers.

Stonehenge

2011-07-11T14:11:00.001-04:00

Can I just get something off my chest?
European water is gross. Think of the most mineraly-ist water you have ever tasted and multiply it by 3, divide that number by 2, and then add it to the number 100. That is how gross it is. Every bottle I have ever purchased I have come to wince as I remove the cap off the bottle because I know it's going to be gross. Surprisingly, the tap water is more bearable.....as long as you dilute it with lemon and freeze it with ice so that it numbs your tongue, it's bearable. Still I have tried to drink at least half a gallon of water a day (Aunt Debbie you'd be proud), even though I'm sure it's going to kill me.
Today we mosy-ed out of bed later than we intended and hit up our usual spot, Mickey Dees, for our daily dose of wifi. Bella realized she had forgotten her Brit-rail pass (this is the ticket that allows you to use Britain's trains unlimitedly) so she had to go back and get it from the dorm. I used that chance to get an oyster card (a card that allows you to use the buses and underground trains [aka the tube]) as my travel card (a card that allows you to use the buses and the tubes unlimitedly) had expired. I then headed back and partook in the wonders of wifi. Bella met me there and then we headed off to Stonehenge.
I have come to realize that I enjoy traveling on the trains with Bella because it provides me with the opportunity to have "stimulating conversations" as I like to call them. Without her company, the rides would be very long and droll. Additionally, those long rides make us loopy and we create some very good inside jokes.
Anyway. So we arrive at Salisbury, exit the train, and find a guy standing pretty much right outside selling tour bus tickets and tickets to Stonehenge. We get our tickets from him and wait around for the bus. The bus that we got on was a double decker bus and we were fortunate to sit on the top level at the front. (Driving around on that bus reminded me of Disney rides, there were so many dips and sharp turns). The bus took us around the old town and pointed out some interesting details such as the cathedral tower leans about 29 inches off center, it contains one of the 4 original copies of the magna carta, etc. All this was very nice but we were here to see Stonehenge, so take me there captain.
We wind our way through beautiful fields and pastures with lambs in them and then beheld the sight of Stonehenge. I waited for some sort of enlightening moment...nothing happened.....this structure was possibly more than 4,000 years old...surely I would stand in awe or something climatic was going to occur inside of me. Still nothing. So then I willed myself to be awed. Still didn't work. I put the moment aside and told myself I was going to just enjoy seeing one of the oldest things....rocks really...on earth.
So we all clambered out of the bus, hurriedly grabbed our electronic tour guide devices and jumped in line to gather around these huge stones. It was pretty impressive. Some of these stones were some where around 55 tons....(that's about 55 cars) and the people got them there with not much more help than primitive tools and their minds. So I walked around these stones and waited still for that moment of awestruckness that I was sure I was going to feel.
However, I couldn't help but think about the whole thing in perspective and relation to what we were actually doing. These were rocks. Big rocks. Big old rocks. And we were all standing around looking at rocks. And these rocks had a little roped off gate around it, so you couldn't go up and touch or look closely at the rocks. I was looking at big old rocks that were stacked and were roped off. Never mind the fact there were birds on the rocks pooping on it and making their nests in it, I couldn't, despite spending my 15£, couldn't go up and touch the rocks.
It was all sort of anticlimactic. I think Bella felt the same way, but I could be wrong. It was nice to see what humans can do when they put their minds to it and it was nice to have my picture taken next to an iconic thing, but I walked away feeling slightly unsatisfied.
The tour bus took us back through the pastures and through the city, both of which me and Bella enjoyed thoroughly. We tried to scout out restaurant but that is hard to do on a Sunday, a lot of restaurants aren't open on Sunday's over here. We ate some food at this restaurant called A.S.K. and talked about secret emails. After we had worn out the subject we left to walk back to the train station to catch our train.
On the way back we saw a lovely river with swans in them and watched them swim around. It was very peaceful. We turned to start our trek back when suddenly a flock of birds started to all fly away. We heard a loud bang on a store glass window next to us, startled, we looked to see what it was. A pigeon ran right into the window glass and was lying on the brick ground. We both paused for a moment not sure what to do. The pigeon seemed to have the wind knocked out of him and was breathing heavily. I told Bella this and she started to laugh at my comment. She told me something to the effect that he wasn't looking so good. I insisted he was fine until he started moving strangely. I realized that we were witnessing the pigeons last moments here on this planet. Bella and I watched as he closed his eyes and took his last breath. Bella thought we should leave; I thought we should bury it. But as I had no shovel handy and I didn't know where he'd been we left him there by the store, with his feather imprints still in the window. It was a strange phenomenon, but we chalked it up to the store window must have been cleaned with windex, just like the commercial.
We made it back to the station and feel asleep on the train ride back to London after another "stimulating conversation". Bella will be leaving tomorrow to stay with her sister and I will be sitting in Uxbridge's library writing my 15 page paper before we reconvene this Friday to fly to Italy.
Provided I survive writing my paper, it should be an exciting, action packed weekend ahead of me. Of course, providing I survive writing my paper.
Cheers.

I like England, but I love Scotland....

2011-07-09T17:15:00.001-04:00

I slept rather well last night except for the occasional slamming of doors and rustles of plastic bags, all in all I got 8 hours of sleep. Even still I think my body was dragging.
We went to sleep without dinner last night because we came in so late and were so tired. So I woke up grumpy and ravenous. The clerk that checked us out of our hostel was starting to look good; Bella knew I needed food. We ate at this delicious place called Jacques Cafe on market street. So good. I wanted the food to never end, but like all things it did.
We wandered up to Edinburgh Castle, it was amazing. It sits on a cliff and overlooks the city, the steep towers stand out like a hooker in church....well maybe not like that....but it sure does stand out. We checked out the gift shop (we never do that) and found amazing tartan scarves and hats that I lusted over, however the price and the lack of space in my luggage could not justify me purchasing it. So we moved on.
We went to the Scottish Whiskey Experience, where we toured the place and checked out the world's largest collection of Scottish Whiskey. Bella treated me to real Scottish malt whiskey for my birthday, it went down well.
We then wandered the city. Checked out some cathedrals, looked around more gift shops, listened to bagpipes, and sat down and talked. We took it kinda slow today. Mostly just listening, watching, and engrossing ourself in the culture. We both came to the conclusion that we love Scotland. I'm glad I'm made up of 25% of that place.
We decided to head back to Uxbridge where tomorrow we'll head to Stonehenge and Bath for the day. So till tomorrow mates.
Cheers.

Scotland, let me see thy kilts

2011-07-09T06:11:00.001-04:00

I've been here officially for a week and I feel like I've been here for only 3 days. Everything is running together and if it weren't for blogging I would forget which day I did what or that days had even passed. Today I got up at 7am so that both Bella and I could be out the door by 7:30 so that we could be at the Tower of London by opening (they open at 9). The problem was when I knocked on Bella's door to exit the building like the great Elvis Presley, I heard rustling in her bed and knew that she hadnt woken up yet. She greeted me with profuse apologies and promises to be ready in 20 minutes.
37 minutes later we left the building in style, and when I say in style I mean half awake and wearing some of yesterday's clothes. Our plans for the day consisted of seeing the Tower of London and catching the next afternoon train out to a country. Train delays and a delicious pub at Euston station changed our decisions. We went to the Tower after we purchased tickets on a 5:10 train to Scotland and soaked up some history.
Our tickets to the tower included a Beefeater guide around parts of the Tower. Seriously, that is a attraction that is worth the price. Just make sure you have 4 hours to look around, there's a lot to see. He told us the history of parts of it; the tower has been there since the 1100's, there was a lot of history. He regaled us with stories of famous imprisonments, escapes and horrific beheadings. He took us into the towers cathedral and told us where the bodies of Anne Boylen, Catherine the 5th wife of Henry VIII, and other famous people lay. It was incredible to think that just a couple hundred years ago Anne Boylen was in the same cathedral I was in today praying for her life. It was strange to look across the expansive courtyard and imagine ladies-in-waiting and knights wandering them; it was strange because I could totally picture it.
Everything was old. Carvings of writing of some of the Tower's prisoners were on the walls, leaving their last mark of their existence, it was real and it was astonishing. It smelled like stone and wood, just how towers and castles are supposed to smell. It was surreal in a weird sort of way to touch the stone walls leading up a circular staircase and think about who could have also touch the spot I just touched. Perhaps a king? Perhaps someone who a couple hundred years before could have faltered on their way to their doom and touched that spot for support? It's crazy the things that run through your mind when you see these ancient spots.....or maybe it's just in my mind.
I wandered through the White Tower and saw the artifacts of the life that existed behind these walls. There were the armors that a majority of the kings wore in battle and their horses....yes...their horses. All the horses of the kings were preserved. Strange.
I also made a point of seeing the crown jewels. We accidentally cut in line, well it was mostly me. A group had lagged behind and I thought that was where it ended and where we were supposed to join. So I jumped in.....and a lot of people followed suit until an Italian man yelled at the bunch of us that we had cut. Bella didn't budge and I wasn't leaving her.....so we cut down on some major waiting time. The crown jewels were pretty cool. We saw coronation spoons, specters, swords, and crowns, all of which was jewel encrusted. But the clarity of the jewels weren't that great, I mean yeah don't get me wrong I'm being pretty picky over something I will never wear or ever come close to touching, but come on. These are the crown jewels; pomp, beauty, and perfection is what it's all about right? Hence, I reserve my right to critique if I feel like the crown jewels aren't perfect. Plus, I would have made a better princess, as we all know, and would have demanded perfection.
At the end of looking at all that bling, I couldn't help but look down at my engagement ring. Yes, it's not massive like the coronation crowns and rings I saw but it's a perfect and beautiful ring. Somebody gave that to me with a lot of love and all the powers or titles in all the world wouldn't make me trade that (except perhaps the title 'princess', that would look good in front of my name). So all in all: my ring > the crown jewels.
Bella and I then met up at the Starbucks by the Towers. We booked our hostel and made our plans. We then hobbled (I say hobbled because we did a lot of walking and our feet were sore) to the train station. We caught the train bound for Edinburg, Scotland; land of the kilts. We talked about how we would fall asleep on the way there as it was a 5 hour train ride there, but our bodies didn't stand a chance against our mouths. We chatted some more about life, love, and other mysteries. Once again we were on the verge of solving all the worlds problems when the train reached our destination.
Scotland is just like what you see in the movies. Only it's far more impressive. Never have I seen anything of this magnitude and so old. It's a sight to behold. Stepping out of the train station onto the street you feel small. Towers, castles, cathedrals, everything looms over you. The air was different than anything I had felt before. It was damp, but you didn't feel it. It was cold but you weren't cold. The roads curved and your eyes couldn't look anywhere else but at the intricate gothic details of the buildings around you.
We arrived at our hostel for the night, despite the poor directions. I'll never forget stepping into my first hostel; it sharply reminded me how prissy I am. The lobby had a cheerful atmosphere and eclectic items all around. We checked in and headed up into the rooms. It was relatively clean, the bunk beds lined up next to each other, and a clean smell in the air. Still it reminded me of an orphanage and I automatically missed home. I wanted to book the next ticket home and crawl back into my familiar bed, where there were schedules and where I wasn't concerned about the next place I would be in. I bucked up though and told myself I was tired and after a good nights rest everything would be ok in the morning. True to my own word, it's morning and everything is better. And Scotland is waiting for me to explore it, better go so I don't disappoint.
Cheers.

18 hours in one post...

2011-07-08T07:08:00.001-04:00

Today was a whirlwind. We were up at 7am to rush off to London. We saw a bit of it yesterday but not anywhere close to the fullest extent that we wanted to see it. From Uxbridge, it takes about two hours with the bus and the change of trains to get to the heart of London. We got out of the tube and exited out into the most dreary weather I have ever encountered here. It was drizzling and overcast, typical London weather from what I'm told. It was hard to believe I was experiencing 60 degree rainy weather in the middle of July, but I am not in Florida, obviously.
Our first real view of London was in the towering form of the Big Ben. He's set up pretty snugly to the Parliament House, if I recall correctly. We could have had a better introduction to Big Ben had it not been so cold and wet, but nevertheless we made our introductions before taking a peek at the London Eye. 30 pounds to ride the London Eye for an hour, we couldn't justify spending that much so we headed off to Westminster Abbey. It was a sight to see. We walked into the church right next door to it, St. Margaret's church, and reveled in it's regality. The line to see the Abbey was really long, longer than any Disney ride I have ever ridden. We walked around to the areas where just 4 months before Princess Kate stepped out to wed Prince William. It was amazing. I still could have made a better princess though.
Anyway, moving on. We walked on towards trafalgar square but stopped off at Westminster Cathedral. Really breathtaking, they had a few tombs inside, and little corridors to walk into. We went on to trafalgar square which was less impressive than what they portray on the maps.
So we went off to get tickets to the broadway show Lion King. We managed to get them at 13.50£ in the standing room area. We then headed off to the London Tower where we were approached by a man who tried to sell us his student tickets. We bartered. He wanted 34 pounds for the both of them which is about 65 USD but we wanted them for 30 (58 USD roughly). He lowered it but we didn't budge. He finally reluctantly said no and we turned away to purchase our tickets at the kiosk. It's a good thing we did. They told us the tower was closing in an hour and we wouldn't really get our money's worth as it takes about 3 hours to tour it. So we decided that we would do it tomorrow. We walked over to Shakespeare's Globe theater and had some drinks there. Then commenced our walk to Lyceum Theater where we would see one of the most watched and hardest-to-get-tickets show, Lion King.
It was packed. I mean packed. We had pretty good spots for what we paid. I was impressed. Now I have to confess, seeing the Lion King wasn't on the top of my priority list but Bella told me it would be worth it. She wasn't kidding. It was really astounding. I had to wonder how these people come up with the costume ideas. Being there reminded me of how much I loved the theater (fiancé, we're going to the theater when I come home). The only things that could have made it better was if we could have dressed up and sat down ( we got tickets in the standing room only area). Otherwise, it was amazing. We got out of it rather late and took the last train home to Uxbridge. We ended up entertaining ourselves on the hour train ride home by singing all the Disney songs we could think of (the things five hours of sleep does to you). I'm certain the woman behind us didn't appreciate it. Regardless we made it to our much anticipated destination and waited for the bus to take us home. We were awake for 18 hours that day. 18 hours. We are crazy. Never did a hot shower and a bed sound and feel as good as it did that day. Tomorrow: Tower of London and Scotland.
Cheers.

Greenwich, a dash of London.

2011-07-07T13:47:00.001-04:00

London and Greenwich. That was our goal today, and by "our" I mean me and Bella. We had some sight seeing to do in London and I had a 5:00 interview in Greenwich which is about an hour away from London. So we set out at 9 o'clock in the morning to the Uxbridge underground station. We made it there about an hour and a half later than intended. Why? Well we love wifi and for a pounds worth of French fries at McDonalds we could get ourselves some wifi. Free wifi isn't quite as prevalent in the UK as it is in the states, so when we find it, we jump on it. We also charted out the next couple of days with places and things we wanted to see and do. So we were quite productive. After we got our internet fix we headed into London. Bella is pretty adept at adapting to her surroundings quickly, I can adapt....I just take a little longer. She tends to jump while she thinks and I just follow along because whatever happens, whether shes right about which tube we're supposed to take or we go in the wrong direction, there's bound to be a good story.
So all was going well till we realized we took the right tube, just in the wrong direction. So we just shrugged and started talking about ways we would kill ourselves if we had to kill ourselves. This all sounds morbid when I type this out but we had a very legitimate in-depth conversation about the best most effective way to kill oneself if one had to. We were quite oblivious to the fact that the tube was a little on the packed side until we drew some stares when I argued that shooting oneself in the medulla oblongata would be a faster way to go than Bella's suggestion, smashing her car into a wall. So....suffice to say, we changed topics.
We ended up getting to our destination, London, and I must say my eyes were anxious to see what all the fuss was about regarding London. Well I wasn't disappointed, I suppose. The first thing I noted was the dirty, spit out gum on the streets and the similar likeness to New York. It was very much like New York. Business people bustling about on the streets, bums on corners, cooks hanging out the doors of their restaurants to catch a smoke; spitting image of New York, just with a British accent. However, Buckingham Palace was what impressed me most. It is huge. It is regal. And I want to live there. I stood right in front of the gates where Prince William and Princess Kate kissed after they married and all I could think about is how I would have made a better princess. But besides thinking about my right to be an heir to the throne and all that, I fully appreciated the awesomeness of Buckingham. We happened to arrive at the time of the changing of the guards which is really nothing terribly special, except these mates have been standing stock still for hours and are switched out with much pomp and circumstance. I took a video of it and will be throwing it up on my Facebook, better hope you're my friend (or you can decide not to be and just YouTube it).
What really caught my interest is the plain ordinary people that would show their badge to the British police and walk on in to do their job. Those are the people whose's lives most intrigued me. They are the ones that keep that place going and yet they silently pass the courtyard without anybody giving them a second glance. It's the uniformed police and soldiers that guard the gate that people/tourists are most impressed with....and they do the least amount of work. Anyway I digress...
We roamed around St. James park for a short while till Bella started to lecture me about behaving like a tourist after I almost ran into someone after I was trying to get out of the way of someone else (I just wanted to clarify my innocence). I changed the topic to theater tickets because I knew she had her heart set on seeing a show in London. It worked. We talked about purchasing the tickets but realized the time (3:00pm) and had to rush to the tube so I could make my appointment. We took an hour and fifteen minute ride, with various tube changes, out to Greenwich, which is a city located on Thames river. It's a quaint little town/city. The part we went to was more town-ish (if that's even a word, pretty sure it's not).
I rushed off to my appointment which was at the Old Royal Naval College, where the University of Greenwich is, and left Bella to fend for herself with promises to meet her at a corner pub. I was nervous about finding the place I was supposed to meet Dr. M so Bella and I had asked a girl as to the direction earlier. I noticed I had caught up with her so she suggested I just go with her as she was heading in that direction. We walked along and I asked her what her thoughts were on Americans. She was very politically correct in her reply "they are like people everywhere; some are nice, some not so nice." I told her it was ok to be honest, I really wanted to know, but she seemed very hesitant to be so I left it alone, I probably committed some sort of faux pas. She changed the topic to the sizes in the States versus the UK, we talked about how in America the meal sizes are bigger, the cars are bigger, the houses are bigger, when really all that is unnecessary. She was Italian and had been living in Greenwich for 3 years after she graduated college and couldn't find a job. I realized as we talked I had to talk slowly because of my accent. Ha. Accent. I don't know what my accent sounds like. Its weird to think I even have one. But I had to slow down my speech and enunciate every word so she could understand me. Before we parted ways I introduced myself and thanked her. Sylvia, you are one cool chick.
I arrived at the place Dr. M suggested we meet, which is called the Painted Hall. I arrived there a few minutes early so I had the fortunate chance of getting a quick look at it before I waited outside for him. Boy, am I ever glad I did. It was gorgeous. I took pictures, but pictures do not fully capture how freaking breathtaking this hall is. It's sort of like an elegant mess hall with paintings of King George (I believe) and naval conquests on the walls and ceilings. Truly amazing and free.
I met him outside of it and he then proceeded to escort me to his office. We chatted about the weather and my background as we hurried along the courtyards to his office. He is the perfect brilliant British intellectual man you imagine when one says brilliant British intellectual man. He courteously answered my questions and humored my arguments. He gave me insightful thoughts and enlightened some of my thinking on social network analysis. I could see he had already had a long day, so I tried to be swift in asking my questions and providing feedback. It ended almost as soon as it began and soon enough I was on my way back to the appointed place where I was supposed to meet Bella.
I was deep in thought as I walked to the agreed place when I saw a African American man holding back another African American man. I thought nothing about it as I walked closer and then I saw a Caucasian man saying something to the men rather loudly. I thought that they were being very jovial until I saw the Caucasian man holding two rather large sized bricks in an aggressive manner. He then proceeded to lift his arm as if he was going to throw it and I quickly walked in the opposite direction. It was quite the startle. He swore repetitively and violently at the men and threw one of the cobblestone bricks onto the ground and stormed off.
By then he had drawn a lot of attention. I asked around to try to find out what happened but everyone just told me that the young man was unstable. It was very interesting.
I sat down at the corner pub and began to write some of my paper for this interview project when I saw a man selling magazines on the corner. I just watched him for a while behind my sunglasses and saw another man walk up to him. The second man began to talk to him in what seemed like confidence and started eyeing the girls that passed them on the street. He was openly ogling the girls and seemed to be encouraging his new found magazine friend to do the same. I watched him talk to the magazine guy a bit further and then the man left. I approached the magazine man and asked him what the guy told him. In his thick British accent I was able to make out that the man was telling him he had a great job because he could watch all these girls bodies that passed him by. I thanked him and left.
By then Bella had arrived and I told her my stories while we wandered through a junk shop. My conclusion of Greenwich: caution, the people can be weird.
We headed to a delightful pub called The Auctioneer and had a pint of beer, a classic burger, and chips (aka French fries) for 4 pounds 25 pence (about 7 US dollars). We talked about men, marriage, love, and the lack of women's drive to live their lives. We were about to solve all of mankind's problems when we realized it was getting late and we needed to head back.
Two hours and three tube changes later we found ourselves at a bus stop in Uxbridge in 50 degree weather waiting for the bus to take us to our dorms. While we were waiting we ran into Dana and Hannah, the two girls I hung out with on my first day in Uxbridge. We chatted about the days events when a man asked us if we all knew each other, we replied we did. He smiled and asked Dana how he could get in touch with her. Bam. Just like that. Dana was getting picked up at 10:15 at night right by a bus stop by some sketchy dude. She then said she wasn't interested so the man asked Bella if she was available, to which she said she was married; asked me if I was available, I told him I was engaged; then asked Hannah if she was available, she said she had a boyfriend. Enter awkward silence........
I straight up asked him why he was looking for a girlfriend. He said he had just come to the UK and was lonely. I told him to go to church, that was the best way to find a girl. He attempted to get into our little circle so Bella made some excuse about going into the street to see if that was our bus. Bella could have said we needed to go tip over a port-a-potty, I would have followed her anywhere out of that amazingly awkward moment.
We made it safely onto the bus, made a new friend, Muzz, and proceeded to head back home to Gordon hall. Tomorrow though, me and Bella will solve all mankind's problems.......after we thoroughly tour London and have tea time with the Queen, of course.
Cheers.

Oxford (part 2)

2011-07-07T03:41:00.001-04:00

We meet again Oxford.
You haven't changed a bit.
My second interview was there today and I must say it went swimmingly well. I went with one of the girls in the education program, Meghan, and it was quite nice as we were of the same appeal. I had met her before when Dr. W organized a meeting for all the people going to England for the program. I knew when I met her there that I would like her, however as the meeting was in her house I didn't feel at liberty to be my rambunctious self, so I was polite and demure, something I am not often. We walked around Oxford for a bit before my second interview and we had a grand time. I have to say I enjoyed myself and Oxford much more that day and I realized something; you can only truly enjoy something when you share it with someone. I went off to my second interview after we agreed to meet up at a corner street.
My second interview with Dr. S exceeded my expectations. She was by far the most interesting and pleasant person I have yet to encounter. She was gracious and answered all of my questions and gave me an enormous amount of material to work with. When our interview wrapped up I thanked her politely and told her "Dr. S it was my pleasure to interview you." Her reply: "if you need anything else don't hesitate to email me and, please, call me Sandra." Favorite. Oxfordian. Person. Ever. She was the coolest, as we Americans say.
I then met up with Meghan and we walked around for a bit. We walked to her interview spot so she knew where it was and wouldn't be late. As we walked back to the center of Oxford (Meghan's interview spot was on the outskirts) we ran into a mess of Oxford boys. I say mess because one of them, who appeared to have graduated was coated with ketchup, mayonnaise, and other condiments. I had to spot and asked what happened. The boy just pointed to his two mates on either side of them both of who seemed quite pleased with themselves (will upload pictures later). He explained that when a student graduates his mates celebrate by making a mess of them. The poor kid was certainly a mess; he had ketchup in his ear...not just his ear, like his eardrum. Gross. We told him congratulations and begged him to take a picture with us to which he consented. We then proceeded on our way back to the center of oxford.
It was during this part of the walk that Meghan told me that she was surprised by me. She had been under the impression that I was the demure sort of person she met at her house not the exciting, lovable, amazing, interesting, funny person I was now (note: I may have added a few adjectives to that last sentence). Of course this was after I made a joke about me laughing at the thought of her face planting. So she may have just been being facetious. I explained when I'm on someone else's territory/turf I err on the side of politeness. Otherwise I try to always have a good sense of humor and be overall the enjoyable person I always am (note: I may have just lied somewhere in that last sentence).
We sight saw a little more and documented our trip via our cameras before we had to part ways and I sent myself off to my last interviews for the day. I took the train back home and found myself thinking about my trip as I stared at the passing fluffy cotton balls of sheep and green rolling hills (why do authors/writers always say green rolling hills?). I like England. It's nice. The countryside is beautiful and the people are relatively pleasant. So that's what I thought as I proceeded to doze off on the train back.
I cat napped until my stop where I raced back to Brunel University for presentations at Halsbury college. I was a tad late and had to ask a receptionist for help in locating the room. She derogatorily told me she had no idea what I could possibly be talking about, to which I responded that I was sorry for bothering her and I would just take a look around. She huff and puffed and told me I couldn't do that; I did it anyway. I ended up finding the room....by myself....stinking receptionist. The presentations were nice, but annoying. The entire thing was supposed to be from 3-7pm. However as the presenters were not courteous of their presentations or their audience, they took 20-30 minutes to present instead of the 10 minutes they were allotted to present. Hence we went until rather late. Annoying. Note to self: when presenting, always stick to presentation time allotments.
I interviewed my last two people for the day and raced back to my room.
One of my best friends, Isabella, had announced her arrival to the area via a sticky note on my dorm door. I raced to her dorm room and pounded on it until I roused her from her slumber. I exuberantly hugged her and we sat on her bed and talked till who knows when. She told me about her experiences in Europe and other life experiences (she had been traveling by herself in Europe for two months prior to my arrival there, read about her experiences here: http://bellaseurope.blogspot.com). It was so good to see her face.
We caught up over a bowl of cereal and talked about our plans for the following day. We then decided to call it a night and cause some trouble for tomorrow. Let's hope we succeed.
Cheers.

Oh Oxford.

2011-07-05T17:28:00.001-04:00

Things I've learned about the British people: if there is anything that can be done in the opposite way that Americans do it, they will do it that way. The way they drive on the road, the way they don't tint their car windows, the direction of their outlets, the way you switch on lights, the direction of the toilet water, everything. They've mastered the art of doing the exact opposite ....or maybe it's us that has mastered the art, either way, it almost always seems to end up in me nearly getting killed. (Mom, if you're reading this I didn't really mean killed. It was just a BMW that nearly took me out because I looked in the wrong direction of oncoming traffic. No biggie. Really.)
But besides nearly becoming a new hood ornament on someone's BMW I went to Oxford today (how prestigious that sounds, forgive me a moment, I must go put on my silk robe and slippers before I sink into my plush leather chair and enjoy my cigar and whiskey as I tell you my prestigious story). It was quite the route to get there.
(yech! I'm eating a microwave dinner that I bought at the local store here, it's like a lean cuisine, and it tastes nas-ty! They still haven't mastered the art of using spices despite pillaging the indies, anybody who knows their history will know what I'm talking about here, anyway I digress).
I met up with Jane and her son Austin for this delightful trip to Oxford. Jane had been to Oxford before about 3 years ago so she was fairly certain as to how to get there. She was nice, sweet, and very cheerful. She insisted that I use her cell phone to call my fiancé when she discovered I was engaged and touring the world (well, Europe) for 30 days. She had a hankering for Reba Macintire music (yes I spelled that wrong, let's move on) and a love of all things foreign. She got me excited about seeing Europe when I expressed my hesitation about me getting excited over anything, while her son Austin managed to laugh at my self depreciating jokes and stare out the train window when I bored him. We split ways when we arrived at Oxford as I had my interview to go to and they wanted to see Oxford on the hop-on-hop-off buses. I managed to find the OII (Oxford Internet Institute) fairly easily.
Oxford isn't that far from the trains, about a 10 minute walk. I went into the interview with some hesitation, mostly due to my lack of preparedness and my sunburnt skin, that which I got from spending one too many days in the water in Austin a week before. I didn't have that much to be hesitant over. My interview with Mr. B caught me off guard however because I quickly realized he wasn't British. Something I had kinda set my heart on (it's not everyday you get to interview a British man). Regardless he nearly charmed the socks off me. Quite an agreeable fellow (that phrase is so British) with a lot of wit and humor. I was quite disappointed in my lack of wit during the interview, I blame it entirely on my delayed jet lag. Nonetheless he answered my questions and humored me with his recent research which I found fascinating. I didn't even realize our hour long appointment time turned into an hour and a half. After an abrupt end and exit, I walked around Oxford for a while preparing myself to be wowed. I was slightly disappointed. Don't get me wrong it's lovely, the architecture is astounding, and the whole thing glamourous, but yet something was lacking. (Man, this cuisine is gross). I don't know if I can pinpoint it now, but maybe I'll be able to look back and say this is what was missing. Either way I left Oxford with a so-so attitude about the whole thing.
I did walk around the grounds though (the ones that weren't closed and the ones that didn't charge, hey I'm a poor student) and take some pictures. I also eavesdropped on the tour guides (no way was I paying 10 pounds) and found out some interesting facts. They have this carnation rule for Oxford students, something about white, pink, and red carnations and finals week. And something about leis too. They also have one of the most famous pubs in Oxford, apparently some of the big brains went there. I took a picture because it will last longer than my memory these days. I'll try to remember to post it.
I managed to stumble across a coffee shop with wifi, a rarity in these parts. So I updated my blog and checked my emails and skyped a few people. I found myself in the same spot nearly 3 hours later. This is why I shouldn't have access to the web or telephone, I get sucked into it like a dustball up against a vacuum cleaner. I don't stand a chance.
All in all though, I like Oxford's environment. It's like New York City with the hustle and bustle but at a level where the volume is a little more tolerable and the people are a little more like neighbors. Its quaint, old, educated, and deliciously slightly pompous....enough for me to want to put them in their place. I could see myself living in a place like that. It would be quite a nice place to settle in and call home. Maybe I'll do that.
Cheers (I have to say it, I'm in freaking England).

Hello London.

2011-07-04T10:22:00.001-04:00

At 4:40 EST my body realized I landed; 9:40 London time I landed. Three hours of light sleeping in cramped plane quarters certainly helped me realize that today was going to be an interesting day. It surprisingly wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Bristish Airways provides quite semi-comfortable ammentaties. Albeit, the seat was cramped, I was lucky because the middle seat between me and what I am sure was a Russian neurologist was empty which meant for a little more room to shuffle around. They also had a stack of movie releases, tv shows, satellite audio, which were available to watch on the plane, overall pretty sweet. I watched Black Swan (disappointing, I don't recommend it) and the King's Speech (highly recommend) while they passed out dinner which was some sort of pasta and bread both of which I was too queasy to eat and a strawberry cheesecake. I tried to get some sleep around 2 EST; life lesson: take some sleeping mess before doing that again. Anyway woke up and they served breakfast to us; some muffin and yogurt and something else which is not worth me remembering. Shortly after we landed.
I was so happy to touch land; I think my body doesn't enjoy flying anymore, what a shame. Heathrow airport both impressed and elicited a few tears form me. I thought Atlanta's hub was crazy; it's got nothing on Atlanta. Heathrow is impeccably clean and modern but insanely confusing. Trying to just find a sign that could clearly tell me where I was going was like a certain HEB store I recently went to in Austin (Sarah will get that); it was confusing. I somehow managed to get from terminal 5 to terminal 3 (I still don't really understand how I was able to do that though) and through customs where I made friends with the custom officer. I then headed to bus central where I hopped on the U3 bus to Uxbridge. I was told I could pay the bus driver when I got on, so I told him my destination and proceeded to pay him the two pounds twenty pence when he just shook his head at me, denying my ten phone bill. He refused to take it after I told him I was heading to Brunel University saying "students have no money." I laughed and insisted I could pay him something when he wrote out a card saying I had 5 days to pay my bus fare. I was so confused. I tried desperately not to be the confused semi-lost American student that I was but I think that bus driver saw it written all over me when I got on. I settled into a seat close to him in case he should change his mind about my paying; I think I came to terms with the fact that he didn't want me to pay however in an effort to make sure all his i's were dotted and t's crossed he gave me that slip of paper. Nice man. I think it was then I realized I loved London.
The bus dropped me off right in front of Brunel University; I felt like I was in a scene in a movie, like right out of the movie Anne of Green Gables with the actress Megan or something. The particular scene where she gets off the train with just her broken luggage and waits for Matthew Cutberth, I felt like I was living that scene out. The area was so picturesque and I felt so foreign, but I had my luggage, just like Anne. And like her I couldn't believe where I was at. I think it hit me then: I am in England.
I scrounged up some help to find my dorm from at first an unwilling English student. He was more concentrated on enjoying his lunch than assisting me, but I won him over in helping me locate my bearings and dorm. I say "won" when I think really he just pitied me.
Dr. W buzzed me in and showed me my dorm. Two words: sweet digs. My own bed, desk, bathroom, and ID badge to get in....all for 25 bucks a night. Seriously, that is really good.
Me and Dr. W started to head to the store to get me some groceries when I ran into Carlos, a friend I knew in my UF days. So after getting Carlos settled in we ran off to the store, we met up with two other girls during the trip Hannah and Dana, both of whom I like immensely. While we shopped they told me I reminded them of a friend they both knew, Danielle. I can't count the times I've been told that I've reminded people of someone they know. Apparently I'm generic.
The entire time Carlos' and my goal was to find free wifi. In America this is not a hard thing to find. In the surrounding London areas, it is. So after realizing we would not free wifi anywhere we gave up and headed back to the dorms to get some shut eye. Two hours later feeling refreshed and more alive and cognizant we went out to a pub three blocks away. I paid 3 pounds for my beer and tried to take in the atmosphere. I still don't think I've grasped where I am. The houses are so English and picturesque and the people so British, I think my mind thinks I'm in Disney world. The cobblestone streets don't seem to really be a part of my environment somehow. They seem to me something that is part of a theme park.
We walked back to Brunel University, enjoyed the weather, the effects of the beer on all our zonked out minds and talked about tomorrow's plans. Still seems strange for me to be here. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and be in my bed, something I wish only half-heartedly would come true. Cheers.

Leaving the states..

2011-07-04T10:20:00.001-04:00

I have never truly liked Miami. Yet I found myself in Miami international airports concourse when US airways neglected to tell me my flight left earlier than my ticket informed me. so they shuffled me off to Miami when they discovered their error. Miami. Busy. Shuffling. No signs to be found anywhere Miami. I don't like you. Don't get me wrong I appreciate your culture, your uniqueness but I do not like the way you operate.
So here I find myself on the floor by gate E8, waiting for the next hour for you to take me to England where I shall celebrate the country of my birth's independence from you. It has hit me how far you will take me from my home, from my fiancé, from my school, from my life. What was I thinking...
Regardless here I am. After months of preparation, planning, and talking about it here I am. And I am not going to lie....I'm scared. Terrified even. What if the plane goes down. What if I get mugged. What if something bad happens.
Then I remind myself....there are worse things. I could be in a third world country, fighting for food, fighting for my life....this minor fear of being alone in a concourse and thinking about a plane going down isn't so bad anymore. By most standards I'm safe. I've got the bare necessities. And....a brand spanking new iPad. Seriously, I'm good. Its weird not having a phone though.....it's weird how silent it is. I never knew how accustomed I was to the sound of incessant texts. That and email. But I suppose I needed that. It reminds me that there are things outside of text messages and emails.
Though I could really use email right now. What did we ever do without email....
Well I guess I'm about to find out. Wish me luck on my study abroad. Europe....here I come.

Working while flying. Being a grown up sucks.

2011-06-23T15:49:00.003-04:00

Wedding board..

2011-06-22T11:34:00.004-04:00

So if you aren't already aware of my love/hate relationship with wedding planning...I have a love/hate relationship with wedding planning. It's gotten better as I've nailed the big things down and have vowed to plan no more things until I get back from Europe. It's been kind of nice. And I'm quite sure that my facebook friends appreciate it (I have a horrible, atrocious habit of complaining about wedding things on facebook, poor souls). I do try to keep the complaining to a minimum as I refuse to become like one of those girls who update their status with only wedding things, so annoying.
But anyway, I'm digressing...as I love to do. So I saw a post by Style Me Pretty on how they allow you to make a wedding inspiration board. What the heck is that? It basically allows you to put pictures of stuff you like right next to each other to see if you like the overall picture.
"How horribly delightful" I thought upon seeing the post (because I knew I was going to get suckered in). So I spent a half hour of my life creating myself a board, the fanagling you have to do to get your images on the board is rather tedious as I don't think they have all their coding all ironed out, but I made one.

I was surprised to realize I had a lot of details already figured out. I had saved myself a few photos of things I knew I wanted to do, and seeing it all on the board makes everything a whole lot easier. So when I'm deciding on stuff and I'm not sure about it, I'll just whip out the board, compare with what I'm thinking about doing, see if it goes with the overall theme of what I know I'm looking for and voila! Indecisive me turns into a decisive me! Now that's what I'm talking about.
I spent a half hour on the darned thing, feel like I should do something with it. Sooooo I posted it up here for the world to see (aka my mom, I think she's the only one who sometimes reads this thing). So yep. Wedding inspiration board. What a lame name for it.

My hiccups...

2011-06-19T19:21:00.001-04:00

My brother and I discuss how loud my hiccups are....while I make him go deaf and giggle about it.

Working on the save the dates.

2011-06-10T15:44:00.001-04:00

Save the day.

2011-06-09T19:46:00.000-04:00

So last night I became intensely focused (haha only Amanda will get this one) and was working on a paper that was due in 18 hours. Well...mix a little bit of my ADD with that intensity and what do you get? Me, working on a completely different task. Like wedding stuff (I have a love/hate relationship with wedding stuff).
I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to send out save the dates, something I had ruled out earlier for various reasons, one of them mainly being I'm cheap. So why the change of mind?
Well, me and the fiance have a few people that we are going to be inviting that have the memory of a goldfish, so we decided perhaps save the dates is the best way to ensure certain people don't schedule anything else on our "special" day.
So we're doing them. It's settled.

So if you know me, you might be aware that I'm a researcher. I over-research everything. I've already over researched everything regarding save the dates, styles of photography for save-the-dates, and props for save-the-dates. Feeling inspired by my research, I just knew I had to do something cute. Creative. And way cool. (Gotta be the talk of the town, people, it's my life goal.)
Anyway so I spent many days lusting over one of my fiance's graduate school friends engagement photos. I just love those wooden numbers against the railroad tracks. It's so perfect. So amazing. But at 4 bucks a pop, I just couldn't justify it. So what did I do? Inconvenienced other people so that I could get my cute save-the-date props in there. Yep.

So what's the plan...

Well it's going to be a bit of this....

......squished with a little bit of that.
Yeah. It should be horrific by the time I'm done making it but at least it will scare people enough not to forget our date.
We'll just have to see how crafty I am.

Wedding insanity....and go.

2011-06-04T16:04:00.000-04:00

Anybody who has a desire to experience low levels of insanity should take up my lifestyle. Work, teach, go abroad, endure graduate school and plan a wedding. Seriously, you will wonder what possessed you. Now I don’t intend to make it all sound like doom and gloom (it is though) there some highlights that make it all worth it (they don’t occur often though) and knowing that I will have crossed some things off my life’s to-do list is quite fulfilling (not really).
Now I can handle a lot of things (at least I think I can). Work, no problem. Teaching, a little scary at first, but I got this. Going abroad, buying a fanny pack (don’t judge), but that’s do-able. Enduring graduate school, we’re testing the limits, but I can pull through (I think). Planning a wedding, I got all this other stuff, should be easy right? ha....ha.....ha.
Planning a wedding is quite the conundrum. Try picking out your colors. I spent two months, perhaps more trying to figure that out.  
“Grey and green...with brown!” 
“It’s now blue, green and black.” 
“That’s just not us....how about just black and white?” 
“Pink is an option....I’m not a pink girl, but all the blogs show pink is the thing.”
Most horrifying experience ever. Now what on earth could have been so bad about it, you ask me. Well first off, I’ve come to realize I can be extremely indecisive (don’t worry I’ve warned the fiance about this). Now pair that up with I research too much and become influenced by what I see. Add a dash of knowing that everyone is going to judge you based on your colors and perhaps who you are as a couple and let that bias carry on over into the rest of your life as a couple (I may be exaggerating at this point). Regardless, it’s a tough decision to make. Colors set the tone for your entire wedding. Sort of. And with all the lovely (annoying) wedding blogs that suggest a bazillion different colors, you’re bound to question the color choices you think you’re going to decide on.
Centerpieces. I loathe them. They took as long to decide on as the wedding colors. But somehow they were very important to me. Don’t ask me why. Because I don’t know, but I do know I cared (still do) a great deal about what people were going to be staring at while eating their food. I did resort a few times to throwing a $50 in the middle of the table and calling it a day. I thought it might be interesting to see what would happen if I did that, could make for a great social experiment. Why on earth could these have mattered so much to me? I wanted it to be unique. I wanted people to know we aren’t the ordinary couple that just throws flowers on our tables. I wanted books and candles and flasks, I wanted to impress people with my great creative skill. Clearly I cared too much about what other people thought. Because in all actuality, they will probably barely give the centerpieces a second glance. So I decided on something simple, slightly creative, but above all, something easy (much to the fiance’s delight).
I debated as to telling the world (aka the 4 people who read this blog) my colors and centerpiece ideas, but I’m going to refrain. Why? Because I can. I’m doing this whole wedding thing Kate Middleton style. Secrecy about everything. Of course until I upload the pictures. Then you all are welcome to sell the pictures to the tabloids. Just remember to give me a portion of what you make. 90% percent should be fine.

What makes us feel alive?

2011-06-01T21:02:00.000-04:00

Note: This was written earlier this morning....just never did hit the 'Publish Post' button.

While doing some research for a paper that is timely due tomorrow, I stumbled across a question posed by Kristen on her blog WanderLust specifically in her ‘About Me’ section. I shall quote her on the whole paragraph as it puts it into perspective:  

“In 2009 I started writing again after a 10-year hiatus and realized I’d been a fool to stop. Why do we ever stop doing the things that make us feel alive?”

So why do we? I’d like to think I have an answer to that question. In an effort to continually attempt to revive my ability to blog and post regularly, which hasn’t really happened since I graduated undergrad, I’ve tried many things. I insisted that what makes me feel alive is trying a lot of things, which in part is very true, I do thrive on doing many things at once. But in doing so many things, you let what you thought once made you alive and substitute it for other things. Graduate school was an unfortunate substitution. I’m constantly threatening, to really no one in particular, that I shall quit it. Just up and leave. I haven’t decided if I’m really going to do that, but I suppose I should make up my mind about it sometime soon as I’m due to be done in December. Photography is another more fortunate substitution that I’ve made. I thoroughly enjoy it. Alas, graduate school has overcome my time for that enjoyment. It would seem to the reader that graduate school is the excuse of choice, I wish it were an excuse. Work is another substitution for blogging, one has to live after all. And finally wedding planning. That is a happy substitution, however painful it may sometimes be.  I think that we give up the things that make us feel alive because 1.) we think there are other things that make us feel alive, 2.) we get busy with these other things, 3.) we get bored or uninspired and as such feel like we have nothing to contribute. I’ll take all of the above for 300 please.
Even right now as I am primed to pour out my guts onto this little post, I am due to be at work at 10:30, after that I must finish my 10-page paper, which then I must finish reading the last 100 pages of the book that is due for tomorrow, after that I must come up with a lesson plan for my little sophomores tomorrow and grade their speech papers.
Just reading that is self defeating. Regardless, I shall putter on and as I have done in the past I shall yet again pledge to be more diligent on posting. I won’t however say they shall be regular posts about any directed topic, however they will be posts, random and un-timed. Just like my life.

Brace yourself kids. I'm going to try to take over the world.

2011-02-15T14:39:00.001-05:00

Swedish fish look good on my Mac.

2011-02-14T19:20:00.001-05:00

Nothing says 'you're loved' like 21 missed calls.

2011-02-13T23:28:00.001-05:00

I'm engaged. Oh dear. The poor man.

2011-02-13T13:35:00.001-05:00

Tell me it's ok to be 24 and to still be ecstatic to get a Winnie the Pooh coloring book...

2011-02-10T15:14:00.001-05:00

INSNA conference. Woot.

2011-02-09T15:13:00.001-05:00

The skyway bridge. I love this bridge.

2011-02-08T09:22:00.001-05:00

Needles. Yum.

2011-02-03T17:20:00.001-05:00

I love this interpretation of John 3:16.

2011-01-22T18:41:00.001-05:00

FAU is no UF but sometimes, just sometimes, the campus can be pretty.

2011-01-21T17:57:00.001-05:00

A day that starts at 7:30 in the morning and ends at 10:00 at night deserves a red velvet cupcake.

2011-01-18T18:00:00.001-05:00

I really like taking pictures of fish.

2011-01-17T15:02:00.001-05:00

Fish are friends not food.

2011-01-17T14:59:00.001-05:00

I've never seen fish pose for a picture.

2011-01-17T07:55:00.001-05:00

Went fish shopping yesterday and found Nemo ;)

2011-01-17T07:23:00.001-05:00

Picture of my day: my grandmother holding her new puppy.

2011-01-11T13:04:00.001-05:00

Untitled

2011-01-06T10:59:00.001-05:00

The new e-book readers take absolutely any sense of accomplishment out of finishing a book because you can't physically see how many pages you really endured.

How priorities maintained my sanity.

2010-10-12T14:52:00.000-04:00

When I graduated undergrad, I could have sworn I knew everything there was to know....haha....oh deluded thinking. So as you might have surmised from that sentence I'm learning new things, which I suppose shouldn't have been that much a surprise for me as that's what happens when you go to school. You learn.
But in this case I'm re-learning things.
Time management is a tough thing to nail down and they say the older you are the easier it is or the more you've learned to manage your time. Well, that's wrong, at least in my case. Time management is much easier to mange when you only have work, dinner, and a clean house to worry about (I'm speaking as a single person)...throw in about 120 pages of reading a week, 10 hours of class, 4 hours of research, about 2 papers every 2 weeks or so, some students that are having a crises, family, and then maintaining your health and sanity..and then things start to collide. Time management suddenly isn't so manageable without the time to manage it.
So I've recently come to terms with it...and by that I mean within the past 2 days. I have to start my day at 6 every morning....I have to start it with devotional time...then biking or some form of exercise for at least an hour...then reading for about 2-3 hours...then work...then maybe write half a page of my paper...then class till 10 at night. I get home at about 10:30, get ready for bed, try to read some more and then give in to my tired eyes and pass out. The life of a graduate is so exciting...non-stop nail-biting fun.
Now I could, like many of my peers, just succumb to the work load and make school my life, but then when would I be living? Never. And when would I be able to retain my sanity? Never. So after I had a meltdown of sorts, which may have involved tears and proclamations of "I can't do this anymore!", I decided to make a list of my priorities and manage my time from that. That saved my sanity.
God is pretty important to me. So I gave Him first dibs, which is why I start my day with Him.
Health is pretty important too...I figured that if I got my master's but died shortly after getting my degree (ie. the very next day after getting my diploma I died from the strenuous stress) then getting that degree wouldn't have helped the quality of my life by all that much. So that's second.
School is third. Now I struggled with making family, friends, significant other, etc. take this place, but I have come to realize that if I did that I would never be able to get what I need to get done, done. Now realizing I have placed school before them, I'm going to do something selfish. Yep, brace yourselves. I am going to say this.....I will not, cannot get through school without them and their support. I would have dropped out of the program the very first day if it wasn't for my mom. So while I selfishly need their support/love/their "you can do it" attitudes they go fourth on my list. (gasp!) I know.
So while the significant people in my life come fourth, that's not to say if they needed me I wouldn't go because I have a journal to read. No I would go. In a heartbeat. But things like family Sunday dinners, movie nights, and neighborhood walks are excised from my social life. So maybe what I'm trying to say is my social life comes fourth. I could go on, but I think my point is made.
Everything else after that falls under the 'Core Four' as I like to call it. I mean I could add more and diagram it and make pie charts and what not, but I think my head would explode. So I left it nice and simple and put them on a post-it note by my bed to remind me.
So far, I have found comfort in it. Do I get all my schoolwork done? Not all the time. But was my time spent on things that were priorities? So far, it has always been a yes. Grad school I have found (in my one month of expertise I have had in it) will give you as much as they can dish out. For instance, in one of my classes Rhetorical Criticism, my professor had us read 4 articles, which amounted to almost 70 pages. I should mention this reading is no Stephanie Meyer reading. I sometimes have to re-read a sentence 3 times to be sure I understand it (sub-note in that: Journals and articles are littered with run-on sentences, it's appalling). And it takes me, on average 3-5 minutes to get through a page.....let me do the math for you: 5 minutes x 70=350......350/60 minutes=5.8333...hours. Not including the paper I had to work on for that class...or homework from any of my other classes. But any way I got carried away in my tirade...he had us read these articles and discussed only two of them in class. Only 2 articles. I wanted to butcher someone that day.
So what I have come to discover is that it's not worth slaving away till 2 in the morning to read every little thing I am given. I need to take care of what is really important and do the best I can, but if I can't do it all, I can't do it all. Ryan Miller (@l985)

Grad school? Paid for? Say whaaaat?!

2010-09-08T19:51:00.004-04:00

I've had some people ask me how I got my graduate education paid for.
Well I'm going to tell you.
I applied to schools that I looked into and decided that I wanted to go to and then made a pact with myself that if anyone of them offered to pay for my schooling that would be the one I would attend.
Well nobody wanted to give me a scholarship/fellowship for my fabulousness, but the government was ready to throw me loans, neither of which I was happy with. (I just don't like paying for things, 20 grand in the hole when I got out wasn't appealing.) So I looked into assistantships.
There was a assistantship form to fill out online to almost every one of the universities I applied to. So I filled it out. But what does a form say about me? Nothing. So I did research and found out who was the director of the Graduate/Teaching Assistantships of the colleges I applied to. I would dress up professionally and go to the school and meet her/him, drop off my resume, say hello, and wow them with my charm (with what little charm I did have). That whole experience made me re-learn, yet again, that it really takes being proactive and knowing someone to get your foot through a door.
I knew one of the graduate students at FAU and I dropped her name when I met the director of GA's/TA's at FAU. Now I don't think I'll ever know for sure if it was just being proactive or name-dropping...or maybe both...that got me my GA-ship at FAU. But I got the GA-ship at FAU and not at any of the other colleges.
The benefit of my assistantship is that they waive my tuition (excluding parking fees, technology fees, etc.) and I receive a stipend on top of that. I know. Be jealous.
It's not a lot...I still have to scrape by...I still have Ramen Noodle soup. But when I get out, I'm not in debt, which was my goal.
So yay. I got this great awesome opportunity. How is it turning out?
Well the college took on other grad students, in addition to myself, to fill certain positions that needed to be filled. There were teaching positions and one lone graduate assistant position that required you to work on grant with a professor that needed to be filled. Well, I took the grant. The grant was awarded to the school in the form of AmeriCorp. My job is to manage/be the liaison between the students and non-profit organizations and complete the (extensive) paperwork for them. The whole process takes about 20 hours a week (which is the amount of hours required from each TA/GA).
It's been very interesting. I like the professor I work with, she is very willing to teach me whatever I would like to know about the grant process. I also get my own office..at least for the time being. In October the college is going to move into a new building and I might not have one then....but I digress.
The whole thing is rather new, but very educational. If you don't know anything about AmeriCorp (which is pronounced like "Ameri-Core") it's a scholarship program awarded to students that put in exceptional volunteer service at non-profit organizations while at the same time taking a specific class for the program. I know, it may sound slightly confusing, but that's the best way that I can describe it.
So far, it's been just a lot of paperwork. A lot. Which isn't bad....just slightly tedious. So it's been teaching me patience...and how to avoid paper cuts. Both which will benefit me in the long run ;)
Overall though I have to say it's a pretty sweet deal. I scratch my schools back, they scratch mine; can't complain.
And...I get another joyous opportunity to live off Ramen Noodle soup. My favourite.

Week 1.5: Grad school

2010-09-02T13:34:00.004-04:00

So a week and a half after being in graduate school at Florida Atlantic University and I must say I think I'm going to survive it.
My first week I was so scared that if someone told me that they didn't believe I could do it, I might have just dropped out. Class started on Monday of last week, by Thursday I was hanging by a thread, not even a thread, a spiders single strand. Happily for me, spider strands are pretty tough.
Hands down, graduate school may be the scariest undertaking of my life.....but I always believed that it's good for the human soul to do something incredibly scary every once in a while. Makes you aware of how tough you are. That first week I doubted my ability to finish it, I doubted my stamina, I just doubted everything in me to take on such a goal. I even told my mom "you have to still love me if I never graduate." Which is strange, because for the past year I was just salivating to get back into school, yet there, last week I felt that I had underestimated my ability to take on graduate school.
Graduate school is a whole new playing field. The professors and faculty almost treat you like a peer, but not really. It's a strange dynamic. One that I find I am still grappling with (grappling is a good word, I should use it more often). There are unwritten rules to this game I'm playing and you can only find out the rules by playing the game. It's incredibly different from undergrad. Whatever pretenses I came into grad school with from my undergrad, I had to quickly toss them out the window. It's whole different level.
Now it would be really nice if someone came up with a Grad School For Dummies Handbook...but I suppose each book would have to be tailored to each college, because I am certain that not every program behaves exactly like mine. Regardless some sort of handbook would have been nice. Warnings about the amazing amounts of material they expect you to read and befriend would have been helpful and about how what you say about a professor will travel to their ears which will influence whether they sit on your committee or not would be nice...information on how while, yes, you are in higher educated environment, that doesn't always mean people behave like you think higher educated people should, they can/will/might be petty. Information on how they will watch and observe you....on everything, might have been informative. Even this post will most likely make it to their desktop.....which is concerning to me. I don't like being censored, I don't like being monitored, I like my right (not that they're taking it away, they aren't) to be open, honest, and freely express myself. And knowing that I might have someone over my shoulder, I'm afraid might make me hold back something I would say normally. Now I'm not saying they would restrict me, they wouldn't. But I am concerned that they would be concerned about something I decided to blog on. Egh.
It's a lot of work to be conscious of what I'm writing about, instead of just having diarrhea of the mouth (beautiful mental image, I know). But in many ways I'm sure that this will be good for me.
Last week I walked away from my last class thinking "do I look as terrified as I feel?"
Now I'm not thinking that....most likely from the endless amounts of journals and research I'm supposed to read and the papers I'm supposed to write, I don't have time to think. Which is a good thing, means I stay out of trouble ;)
But I still wonder if I will come out of this alive....I like to think I will. Because after all, if someone else was able to do it surely I'll be able to do it. I suppose time will tell.
Till then, I'll just blog about my experiences with grad school. Good ole' grad school.

I'm 63 and I'm Tired...

2010-03-17T21:33:00.002-04:00

"I'm 63 and I'm Tired"
by Robert A. Hall

I'm 63. Except for one semester in college when jobs were scarce and a six-month period when I was between jobs, but job-hunting every day, I've worked, hard, since I was 18. Despite some health challenges, I still put in 50-hour weeks, and haven't called in sick in seven or eight years. I make a good salary, but I didn't inherit my job or my income, and I worked to get where I am. Given the economy, there's no retirement in sight, and I'm tired. Very tired.

I'm tired of being told that I have to "spread the wealth" to people who don't have my work ethic. I'm tired of being told the government will take the money I earned, by force if necessary, and give it to people too lazy to earn it.

I'm tired of being told that I have to pay more taxes to "keep people in their homes." Sure, if they lost their jobs or got sick, I'm willing to help. But if they bought McMansions at three times the price of our paid-off, $250,000 condo, on one-third of my salary, then let the left-wing Congress-critters who passed Fannie and Freddie and the Community Reinvestment Act that created the bubble help them with their own money.

I'm tired of being told how bad America is by left-wing millionaires like Michael Moore, George Soros and Hollywood Entertainers who live in luxury because of the opportunities America offers. In thirty years, if they get their way, the United States will have the economy of Zimbabwe , the freedom of the press of China , the crime and violence of Mexico , the tolerance for Christian people of Iran , and the freedom of speech of Venezuela .

I'm tired of being told that Islam is a "Religion of Peace," when every day I can read dozens of stories of Muslim men killing their sisters, wives and daughters for their family "honor"; of Muslims rioting over some slight offense; of Muslims murdering Christian and Jews because they aren't "believers"; of Muslims burning schools for girls; of Muslims stoning teenage rape victims to death for "adultery"; of Muslims mutilating the genitals of little girls; all in the name of Allah, because the Qur'an and Shari'a law tells them to.

I'm tired of being told that "race doesn't matter" in the post-racial world of Obama, when it's all that matters in affirmative action jobs, lower college admission and graduation standards for minorities (harming them the most), government contract set-asides, tolerance for the ghetto culture of violence and fatherless children that hurts minorities more than anyone, and in the appointment of U.S. Senators from Illinois.

I think it's very cool that we have a black president and that a black child is doing her homework at the desk where Lincoln wrote the Emancipation Proclamation. I just wish the black president was Condi Rice, or someone who believes more in freedom and the individual and less arrogantly of an all-knowing government.

I'm tired of a news media that thinks Bush's fundraising and inaugural expenses were obscene, but that think Obama's, at triple the cost, were wonderful; that thinks Bush exercising daily was a waste of presidential time, but Obama exercising is a great example for the public to control weight and stress; that picked over every line of Bush's military records, but never demanded that Kerry release his; that slammed Palin, with two years as governor, for being too inexperienced for VP, but touted Obama with three years as senator as potentially the best president ever. Wonder why people are dropping their subscriptions or switching to Fox News? Get a clue. I didn't vote for Bush in 2000, but the media and Kerry drove me to his camp in 2004.

I'm tired of being told that out of "tolerance for other cultures" we must let Saudi Arabia use our oil money to fund mosques and madrassa Islamic schools to preach hate in America , while no American group is allowed to fund a church, synagogue or religious school in Saudi Arabia to teach love and tolerance.

I'm tired of being told I must lower my living standard to fight global warming, which no one is allowed to debate. My wife and I live in a two-bedroom apartment and carpool together five miles to our jobs. We also own a three-bedroom condo where our daughter and granddaughter live. Our carbon footprint is about 5% of Al Gore's, and if you're greener than Gore, you're green enough.

I'm tired of being told that drug addicts have a disease, and I must help support and treat them, and pay for the damage they do. Did a giant germ rush out of a dark alley, grab them, and stuff white powder up their noses while they tried to fight it off? I don't think Gay people choose to be Gay, but I damn sure think druggies chose to take drugs. And I'm tired of harassment from cool people treating me like a freak when I tell them I never tried marijuana.

I'm tired of illegal aliens being called "undocumented workers," especially the ones who aren't working, but are living on welfare or crime. What's next? Calling drug dealers, "Undocumented Pharmacists"? And, no, I'm not against Hispanics. Most of them are Catholic, and it's been a few hundred years since Catholics wanted to kill me for my religion. I'm willing to fast track for citizenship any Hispanic person, who can speak English, doesn't have a criminal record and who is self-supporting without family on welfare, or who serves honorably for three years in our military.... Those are the citizens we need.

I'm tired of latte liberals and journalists, who would never wear the uniform of the Republic themselves, or let their entitlement-handicapped kids near a recruiting station, trashing our military. They and their kids can sit at home, never having to make split-second decisions under life and death circumstances, and bad mouth better people than themselves. Do bad things happen in war? You bet. Do our troops sometimes misbehave? Sure. Does this compare with the atrocities that were the policy of our enemies for the last fifty years and still are? Not even close. So here's the deal. I'll let myself be subjected to all the humiliation and abuse that was heaped on terrorists at Abu Ghraib or Gitmo, and the critics can let themselves be subject to captivity by the Muslims, who tortured and beheaded Daniel Pearl in Pakistan, or the Muslims who tortured and murdered Marine Lt. Col. William Higgins in Lebanon, or the Muslims who ran the blood-spattered Al Qaeda torture rooms our troops found in Iraq, or the Muslims who cut off the heads of schoolgirls in Indonesia, because the girls were Christian. Then we'll compare notes. British and American soldiers are the only troops in history that civilians came to for help and handouts, instead of hiding from in fear.

I'm tired of people telling me that their party has a corner on virtue and the other party has a corner on corruption. Read the papers; bums are bipartisan. And I'm tired of people telling me we need bipartisanship. I live in Illinois , where the "Illinois Combine" of Democrats has worked to loot the public for years. Not to mention the tax cheats in Obama's cabinet.

I'm tired of hearing wealthy athletes, entertainers and politicians of both parties talking about innocent mistakes, stupid mistakes or youthful mistakes, when we all know they think their only mistake was getting caught. I'm tired of people with a sense of entitlement, rich or poor.

Speaking of poor, I'm tired of hearing people with air-conditioned homes, color TVs and two cars called poor. The majority of Americans didn't have that in 1970, but we didn't know we were "poor." The poverty pimps have to keep changing the definition of poor to keep the dollars flowing.

I'm real tired of people who don't take responsibility for their lives and actions. I'm tired of hearing them blame the government, or discrimination or big-whatever for their problems.

Yes, I'm damn tired. But I'm also glad to be 63. Because, mostly, I'm not going to have to see the world these people are making. I'm just sorry for my granddaughter.

Robert A. Hall is a Marine Vietnam veteran who served five terms in the Massachusetts State Senate.

In Texas...

2010-01-17T21:23:00.001-05:00

So I went to Texas, spent about a week there and accomplished a lot....one of them being this video.
Watch with caution. Enjoy.

I had always wondered...

2009-12-22T20:35:00.002-05:00

So I thought I would share it seeing as it's right around that time of year. :)
Enjoy.

From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics.
It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.
-The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ.
-Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.
-Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.
-The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.
-The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.
-The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.
-Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.
-The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.
-Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.
-The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments.
-The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples.
-The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.
So there is your history for today. This knowledge was shared with me and I found it interesting and enlightening and now I know how that strange song became a Christmas Carol ... pass it on if you wish.

Well I thought it was funny..

2009-12-22T20:28:00.002-05:00

I think wherever you stand, politically speaking, this is still pretty funny.

The ultimate failure of a recent graduate...

2009-08-30T22:43:00.005-04:00

It finally hit me last night...I was the biggest failure I had ever encountered. After 3 months of being back home and job hunting till my fingers bled (figuratively speaking) I was no further than where I had first begun. I had in my possession a degree from an esteemed school and no current or future job prospects other than the one I am at. I find myself extremely disappointed and not just a little less than short of despair.......definition: I have cried about my lack of a career more than once. But last night I think I hit a spot where I have not previously ever found myself. I was a failure. Upon further evaluation, (I love saying that phrase) I regarded myself as the biggest failure I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I had sent out numerous cover letters, had many interviews, all to no avail. Why couldn't I climb that ladder?
Don't get me wrong....I am not suffering...far from it to be exact. I have a job at a upper-class restaurant that provides me with what I need. Yet, who with a four-year degree likes to say "Oh I work at a restaurant that I've been working at for the past 4 years"? How is that respectable? I read what I have just written and I sound like I'm having a pity party...and maybe I am. I really shouldn't be, given the economy, I really am lucky to have a job.
Yet, I still can't help but bemoan my poor sorry little self. I should probably disclaim this is not me begging for a job or me trying to appeal to you for some morsel of a job contact.
This is me just blogging about my job hunting experience....my future....my whining....whatever you would like to call it...this is me just relaying my experience.
I've come to realize I measure myself, my success and my failures through other people's binoculars. I assume another's view of myself and that is what, for me, determines my ultimate verdict. I don't ever ask myself what I think success to me means. I don't ever ask what value to me means.
A stockbroker may think making 100+ a year is a success.....whereas a doctor may think saving a life is a success...and a teacher may think teaching a child to read is a success. But what do I, Michelle Ashley Hipps, think success means? I find myself lacking an answer and maybe, for right now, I have to keep trudging (like Chaucer in a Knight's Tale) to find an answer. Maybe for me, it's to go back to school and learn more....maybe it's to keep blogging, as I love to do, till I somehow spin up an answer. Whatever the case may be, I doubt I'm going to find it at a restaurant that pays me what I need....maybe I need to be lacking to find it. I'll let you know if I find it.

How to treat a girl..

2009-08-28T15:26:00.002-04:00

Got this via email and I kept saying "yes!" after every point so I thought "screw it I'll just post it on my blog." So enjoy.

1.Whatever you do, don't just show up at their house...they run around in their underwear just like we do.

2. Don't cheat on them. It may seem foolproof, but girls tell each other everything about everything. Trust me, they WILL find out.

3. Beware of every single male relative and all guy friends. Any of them would kick your ass at the drop of a hat, and a lot of them wouldn't even wait for the damn hat.

4. Never miss an opportunity to tell them they're beautiful.

5. Don't refuse to kiss in front of your friends. If they laugh at you, it's because they're jealous.

6. If they slap you hard, you deserved it.

7. Don't be afraid to touch them if you want to. If they're going out with you in the first place, it's because they like being in your arms.

8. If you don't sleep with them, do not tell your friends that you did.

8.5 If you DO sleep with them, don't tell your friends that you did.

9. You can be dirty minded in private, really...most of them are not offended by it...

10. Not all of them eat like birds, alot of them can eat like whales.

11. Most of them don't mind paying half of everything, but they do discuss these things with their friends. Realize that if you make your girlfriend pay half all the time, everyone will know about it and your friends will know you're a pussy.

11.5. Do you honestly need all your money that much? Be a man, pay all the time!

12. Every girl should eventually get three things from her boyfriend- a stuffed animal, one of his sweatshirts, and a really pretty ring. Even if it's not a serious relationship.

13. Make sure she gets home safely as often as you can. If you're dropping her off, walk her to the door. If you aren't dropping her off, call to be sure she's home safely.

14. If a guy is bothering her, it is your right to kick the crap out of him.

15. If you're talking to a female friend of yours, pull your girlfriend closer.

16. Never, ever slap her, even if it's just in a joking way. Even if she swats you first, and says, "Oh, you're so dumb" or something, never make any gestures back.

17. Go to a chick flick once in a while. She doesn't care whether you enjoy it or not, it just matters that you went.

18. You're dead meat if you can't get along with their pets, parents and best friends. Be prince charming to their friends, Mr. Polite to their parents, and make sure to be nice to their animals.

19. Don't flirt with their moms...that's just freaky.

20. Don't be freaked out by PMS. It's not gross, and it really does make them feel like crap, so be understanding.

21. If you don't like the way they drive, you do it.

22. If you're officially dating, and you're introducing her to your friends, you'd better damn well introduce her as your girlfriend.

23. Don't stress where you go for every date. They really only want to be with you.

24. If they complain that something hurts, rub it for them without being asked.

25. Girls are fragile. Even if you're play fighting/wrestling, be very gentle.

26. Memorize their god damned birthdays. You forget her birthday and you're basically screwed for life.

27. Don't marinade the cologne, but smell good.

28. Don't give her something stupid for her birthday or Christmas or Valentine's day. It doesn't have to be expensive, but it has to be meaningful.

29. If you think the relationship isn't going to last, don't wait to find out. It will only hurt you more if you draw it out.

30. After you've been dating for a while, realize that they really have started to trust you. When you have a girlfriend who truly trusts you, you have a lot more responsibility, privilege and control than you would think. Be careful with it, most guys would kill for that kind of power, and it can be lost in a nanosecond.

The net-gain in networking

2009-07-13T12:29:00.008-04:00

As a recently graduated college graduate I am now at that stage where I should be employed or looking for employment. Given our current economic situation...I am...*ahem* still in the latter part of that last sentence. So I've been becoming biffles with Monster, CareerBuilders, and the like and doing some networking. I know of the awesome powers of networking...in fact, I made a small shrine to it and pay it homage daily. However, I had never experienced it as much as I have recently.
I went to Palm Beach County's tweetup a couple of weeks ago and was introduced to a variety of pretty sweet people, from there I was invited to SFIMA (South Florida Interactive Marketing Association) which from there put me in touch with people that could potentially direct me to the right people from which I could *cross fingers* gain employment.
All this happened in the span of about 2 weeks.
Now professors never tell you what to expect or prep for when you graduate and start the job hunt....actually there is alot they don't tell you. I'm realizing this more and more as I get further into my alumni status. Regardless, just because you don't know everything there is to know about life after graduation, doesn't mean you don't do anything....you keep going and learn as you go....often times at great personal or financial expense.
So yes graduates, expect to mess up. But more importantly, remember to take a minute to concretely learn something from it, because that is priceless knowledge that can't be gained in an hour-long lecture. I can name over a dozen things I've messed up on...from resumes to smack-my-forehead why did I say that to that person...and that's just job hunting. That doesn't even cover actually doing a job or working on a project.
However, just cause I know I'm going to make mistakes doesn't mean I can just sit down and do nothing. I have a quest: a job.
Because of this quest it had made me measure the most effective ways to ending my quest (quest is a fun word to say aloud).
You can send your polished resume and cover letter to some ambiguous person you have never met before and who hasn't met you, but it will never have as much of an impact as if they had/have a chance to meet you in person and you them. They say first impressions are often the most reliable account of a person. British writer William Hazlitt said "a man's look is the work of years; it is stamped on his countenance by the events of his whole life, nay, more, by the hand of nature, and it is not to be got rid of easily.” I agree; hence the power in networking in person.
So I've taken some time in my job hunt to look up conferences and seminars that I can attend to meet people face-to-face. Fortunately for me, this seems to be the month for conferences, clubs, and seminars. So far, it's paid off. I am dying to tell you what's happened because of it, however I am deathly afraid to do so, in the event I tell you and it doesn't come through. So for now, you'll have to take my word and personal experience for it: networking pays off.

The colonoscopy

2009-07-13T12:07:00.003-04:00

Excerpt taken from the Dave Barry column. The original can be viewed here.

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.

A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.
Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'

I left Andy’s office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven.
I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America ’s enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.
Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation.
In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor.

Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons). Then you have to drink the whole jug.. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.

The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result..'
This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.

The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.
At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.

When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point.

Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand.

There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.

'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me.
'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.

Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ..

ABOUT THE WRITER:
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.

Today is the day

2009-06-25T12:57:00.002-04:00

After a week and a half of planning, Gainesville is going to have it's second tweetup (it might be it's third, there have been varying stories). Regardless I am super psyched and nervous all at the same time. Psyched because I will be meeting these amazing faces behind the tweets and nervous because...well....what if they don't like me? Eh...they'll only have to put up with me for 2 hours, that can't be all that bad can it? ;)
I have so many people I want to thank for making this happen (I feel like I'm about to make an Oscar speech) and I'm desperately hoping to be able to do that in person tonight. I really hope it's a success but even more than that I really hope to meet all the Gainesville tweeters and create an awesome networking opportunity for Gainesville tweeps. If you're a Gainesville tweep and reading this, I hope to see you tonight bright and early at 6:00pm at Stubbies on University!

Gainesville Tweetup

2009-06-15T17:24:00.001-04:00

Are you suggesting Plastic Surgery?

2009-05-31T15:11:00.001-04:00

How to save on toilet paper

2009-05-31T14:47:00.003-04:00

Russian Tribute

2009-05-07T22:55:00.003-04:00

Okay I never knew this...but Russian artist Zurab Tesereteii donated this in tribute to 9/11.
It's called "The Teardrop" and it's made of nickel and I believe it weighs 4 tons....very cool.

Things you should not tweet

2009-05-05T19:19:00.005-04:00

This topic has needed to be tackled for some time. I've come across a few blog posts that have touched on it but they haven't gone beyond naming one thing they think shouldn't be tweeted. So here's my laundry list of things you just shouldn't be tweeting.

1.) Nothing Personal
I can't stress this enough. Twitter wasn't created to be a personal diary. It's a tool that you use to positively interact with people. Not tell them all your dirty details. So please, please save us the gory details on how your boyfriend broke up with you.

2.) Negative Stuff/Constant Complaining
I see this far too often in my twitter stream. And I am often tempted to de-follow the negative naysayer yet I'm afraid their fragile state of mind will cause them to do something drastic once they've discovered they're out one follower. Please keep your tweets as upbeat as possible, you'll gain more followers and your positive tweets will make you feel better. Guaranteed.

3.) Negative Stuff on Your Employer
Today's technology makes anything accessible; including past things you've written about your employers, coworkers, friends, relatives, etc. So make sure whatever you say/write is something you would feel comfortable telling to their face. Examples: Ketchum VP James Andrews tweet and @theconner's Cisco tweet.

4.) Your Location
This one should be used wisely (and in my opinion, sparingly). If you're at a conference and want to meet up with people on twitter then by all means do so. But do so knowing that if you do have a stalker then you're making it very easy for him/her to stalk you. So enlighten those on twitter to your location as long as you are well prepared (hint: mace).

5.) Pointless Nonsense
I really shouldn't have to stress this one, yet I see this all the time. I don't know who said it first, but one should keep this in mind when twittering: "Just cause it's in your brain, doesn't mean you should output to twitter..." If this is a problem for you, insert a filter in your brain and use it, because no one really cares about combining Pepsi, chocolate, bananas, and peppermint and tasting it.

6.) Incessant Conversations
Twitter was not meant to be used like an IM. Reply only once or twice then switch to DM. It is annoying for everybody else that is following you to know the details of your conversation.

7.) Anything in a Hospital
HIPPA's (Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act) Privacy Rule ensures the confidentiality of communications with individuals/patients. I highly discourage a person to tweet anything that is overheard in hospitals because of that law. People's privacy are most protected within their personal homes and in their hospital room, breaching that...well it could be problematic for you.

8.) Anything That Goes on in The Bedroom
And speaking of bedroom.....I can't say I have seen anything regarding this topic tweeted, but I feel like I should cover this ground because I hope to keep it like that. What goes on in your bedroom should stay in your bedroom. Announcing what goes on behind closed doors could ruin your shot at becoming the next President.

9.) Anything Illegal
You'd have to be an idiot to tweet this, but well not everyone in the human race has an IQ of 170. So if you did do something illegal don't tweet it. Unless of course you want to get caught by the police and live off taxpayers money for the net 10 years...then by all means.

Checkers anyone?

2009-04-20T00:18:00.003-04:00

Dogs can be sincere too.

2009-04-16T18:59:00.003-04:00

Why I believe in God

2009-04-06T15:21:00.003-04:00

I normally wouldn't do this because I don't consider my blog to be the forum on which to express these kinds of thoughts. I prefer this kind of discussion of topic to be conducted face-to-face in a more intimate setting, as to allow room for questions and if need be (though I abhor it) a heated disagreement.
However, I have been urged to do so from friends and strangers alike. I thought about it and weighed the options. My blog is a random wandering through a variety of topics, mostly capitalizing on technology, my college life, and other topics that do not hit sensitive nerves. Personal beliefs and politics hit sensitive nerves, both of which I try to avoid here.
But I think it's time to hit a nerve and give you a summation of why I believe what I do. This question was posed to me by an atheist acquaintance and I answered it as you shall see below.
Please note: I don't convince people. This is not me trying to convince you. You, as well as other people, will make your own choices. You will come to a conclusion you believe best suits you, just as I have. However, I highly encourage you, as I have done, to commit yourself to a lot of research before you come to a conclusion. Read both sides, or if there are more than two sides, read all sides. Wrong decisions and conclusions are results of ignorance.

Acquaintance:
Witness to me, Head-Strong [sic] Christian. Why do you believe?

My reply:
I believe:
-because I've done enough research for myself to come to the conclusion that the Bible is a historically accurate book.
-because I believe that every human being's person desires justice. Without God I don't believe we would have justice.
-because I believe in balance...we are imperfect creatures living in an imperfect world...there must be a perfect Being and a perfect place.
-because I believe our soul, the mind, the heart, of a person is such that it will outlast our physical body. And I don't believe it goes out into space....I believe there is a destination for that part of humans.
-because it's not impossible to believe. There are many impossible things/ideas we believe in science. We can't see ourselves think, I can't hold it, but we know people do because of actions they commit. We can't see gravity, but we know "it" exists because it holds things down. We don't know what dark energy is, yet we know dark energy produces a repulsive force field and we believe it exists.
-because I am a better person because of my belief in God. I would be a much more terrible person, if I did not have this belief.
-We are imperfect creatures, to go to a perfect place we need to be perfect. Because we are not, someone would have to take our imperfections to allow ourselves to go to that perfect place. I believe Jesus came in the human form of God and lived 33 years on this earth in perfection and died to take our imperfections on Him. I believe because of the sacrifice of His perfect self to death, that allows us to enter into a perfect place as long as we believe it.

I want you to know, I am not writing this to convince you. In fact, I know what I have written you will combat and disagree with. I'm ok with that. Everyone was granted with a free will, a will to decide what they believe and do not believe. I simply wrote, in answer to your question, why I believe what I believe.

John 3:16

What not to do..

2009-03-30T16:40:00.002-04:00

Click to enlarge.
It's worth the effort.

Twitter Peeves

2009-03-28T22:53:00.005-04:00

Quite a bit has been going on in my mundane life these past weeks. Where to start....
Well I got hit by a car on my bike while on my way to school. That was quite fun. Nothing quite as cool as telling people you flew into an intersection superman style.
My grandfather was admitted to the ER two days ago due to a hematoma in his stomach. He's on the mend and will be discharged in a few days (much to my relief).
While at a stoplight I got out of my car to tell a woman who littered that she committed a crime that would have cost her $500 if I was a cop and caught her. Also mentioned that it was my planet too and so she shouldn't do it again. I should have worn my cape that day.
All in all it's been rather adventurous life, try not to be envious.
I've been twittering like it's crack. In fact, I've devoted so much time to twitter that my blog has suffered it because of it (my sincerest apologies). In my defense though, it's hard to blog from an iPhone. Anyway as result of my umbilical cord to twitter I've developed a few peeves. First, those darn spammers (I would use more colorful language describing these spammers, but I'm exercising self control). They bug me. To no end. But what can you do about them? Not much really.
So I move to my second pet peeve regarding twitter: the "pump and dump". The "pump and dump" refers to people who follow you on twitter, so that you will follow them back, so that they can then de-follow you to make it seem as though they have more followers than the people they following. Follow me? (If not, re-read). They irritate me to no end. So when people add me now, I take into account the amount of updates (to determine how much of a twitterer they really are, mostly the newbies "pump and dump", and to also determine the quality of their tweets, usually nice tweeters won't "pump and dump").
Third twitter pet peeve, those auto DM's (direct messages). How much more impersonal can you be? My day won't end if you don't thank me for following you. Really, I promise you I will survive. If you really want to thank me for following you, interact with me. Sending me an automated DM is like me trying to get a job by sending a resume instead of setting up a meeting and talking to them face-to-face. Technology is increasing the speed at which we communicate but it is also increasing the impersonableness of it. Please don't help that with your automated DM's.
Those are currently my top 3 peeves in regards to twitter. *sigh* If only I ruled the world, this would never happen. >)

The Death of Common Sense

2009-02-20T15:17:00.000-05:00

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place.

Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate and teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job they failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Panadol, sun lotion or a sticky plaster to a student; but, could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else is to Blame, and I'm A Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

If you still remember him pass this on.

Best story of the day

2009-02-10T13:25:00.003-05:00

I took my dad to the mall the other day to buy some new shoes (he is 92).
We decided to grab a bite at the food court.
I noticed he was watching a teenager sitting next to him.
The teenager had spiked hair in all different colors: green, red, orange, and blue.
My dad kept staring at him.
The teenager would look and find him staring every time.
When the teenager had enough, he sarcastically asked, 'What's the matter old man, never done anything wild in your life?'
Knowing my Dad, I quickly swallowed my food so that I would not choke on his response and in classic style he did not bat an eye in his response.

'Got drunk once, and had sex with a peacock. I was just wondering if you were my son.'

NASA image-capturing technology...impressive.

2009-02-04T17:09:00.005-05:00

In case you were wondering applications for the best job in the world are due February 22nd. So get cranking and make sure you submit your stuff.
Last night, I spent an hour getting my favicon up, which for me is an hour too long. Thanks to two separate posts by Peter I was able to get it up. So notice it...appreciate it...and repeat after me: 'awwwwwh'. Nice, very nice.
Anyway what really caught my attention was this.
It's a picture of the inauguration taken with a NASA image-capturing technology that was developed to take wide-angle Hi-Def pictures on Mars. The inauguration picture was taken with a robotic camera at 1,474 mega pixel (295 times the standard 5 mega pixel camera). It's madness.
I got this patriotic site sent to me today in an email. I kinda wondered how they were able coordinate all those artists singing and playing at different places. Regardless, it made me put my hand over my heart.
Yeah. So that's all I got for you...now for me...I have about a 12 foot stack of books waiting for me on my desk. My professors claim it's homework, we students call it torture.

iPhone iNfo

2009-02-04T00:32:00.004-05:00

I do worship the ground my iPhone walks on. I admit it freely. There are only some minor things that I would change about it though. Video capturing capability (without having to jailbreak it), longer lasting battery, being able to use flash, receiving picture text messages through text instead of having to go online and type in some ginormous code, not hanging up on people when I put in the headphones/mouthpiece, and having a zoom feature for the camera would be some of the things I would change about it. But like I said it's only minor. Another issue that I've noticed as of late and with the onset of cold weather is that you can't wear gloves when using your iPhone. Well, I should say you couldn't. 4Sight Products Inc. have created $40 gloves to wear when working the magic on your iPhone, much to a lot of people's relief.
As I was perusing the web a couple of days ago I realized a lot of people wanted to block text messaging completely on their iPhone. There is a method to do so, despite many people's complaints of there not being one. So I posted it on twitter and now am informing you like my duty calls me to do.
I peruse the web mostly through my iPhone these days, but reading stuff on the web via 'Jemima' hurts my eyes, so I throw on my nerdy glasses. I don't know why I told you that, it's not really relevant to what I'm about to say...but anyway Wired.com has compiled, in my humble, personal opinion the best top list of iPhone apps. Sadly, I have not downloaded the top 1st app, but it's on my list of things to do.
I overuse smiley faces, a lot sometimes. And to all those overused smiley faces...
I dedicate this next video to you.

The month of February is forgettable

2009-02-03T23:56:00.003-05:00

This month got off to a rough start. It has been taxing. I have to force myself to keep things to myself when sometimes, I just want to have diarrhea of the mouth. And I have to remind myself I don't want to turn this into a personal blog. So I received an email from Dana telling me to check out this site Wiggio.com. Not a new concept entirely. The site is designed to help you work in a group, and while it offers some of the features that Google does, it's a bit more intimate. I would even go so far as to say it's easier to work with. So if your in a group and you don't use anything to upload files to, post links to, give feedback to, I do recommend you try Wiggio.
Also, also also! My Delaware friend sent me this: dealnews.com. Good cheap stuff, without having to visit eBay. I also like the coupon option. I have yet to find a good site to get my coupons from, but dealnews will substitute nicely for now.
Anyway I have recently become addicted to Future of Forestry my favourite song being this one.

Tips to format your computer

2009-01-23T00:36:00.004-05:00

Aii-yii. It's 36 degrees right now and I live in Florida. Doesn't that sound like an oxymoron? It does to me. Well I didn't come on here to complain about the weather (no, I complain about it on Twitter)..I came on here to inform you that last week I formatted my computer. By myself. Yeah I know I alread told you I formatted my Windows XP computer. My purpose now is to help those poor souls who are going to take on that feat all by themselves. May heaven be with you my child. Anyway lets get right down to it.
First you should know; It will take you all day, especially if this is your first time. So make sure you have the time to be able to do it.
Secondly read this post (mine) and this one and this one before you wipe out your computer. And print all of those up so you have something to refer back to.
Thirdly, have an external harddrive to back up everything, pictures, music, documents, online antivirus software (that is if you got it online) etc.
Backup and restore all your Windows drivers on that external harddrive, also save the installation for whichever program you used to back up all your drivers (I used DriverMax, it's easy to use). So if you downloaded DriverMax, save that installation file on your harddrive, cause once you wipe your computer you won't be able to connect to the internet to download and install DriverMax (or whatever other program you choose).
I recommend watching this, it gives you a selection of driver backups and how to use them.

Alright next, find out exactly what you have inside your computer's little head. You can print out what software, drivers, installers, you have from your Device Manager but I recommend downloading and using Belarc Advisor in addition to printing out what you have on your Device Manager. It will basically audit your computer. A very nice feature. So print out those two things, you might be needing these papers later so don't do anything without them.
Now make sure you have all your discs, to reinstall your software (ie. A Windows XP installation CD with a valid Product Key, Drivers CD). These CD's should have come with your computer. If not....well find a way to get them. Also make sure you have your software CD's (ie Microsoft Office, Photoshop CS3) with your valid serial keys.
And lastly......make sure you have an extra laptop....see if you can borrow a friend's. Cause once you start wiping it you can't get back online and look up something that you have a question about. So it would be a good idea to have another computer to do that with.
Got all that? Okay good. Time to start over.
Insert the Windows installation disk into your CD drive, shut down your PC.
Then, boot from CD which bascially means when it's starting up, you should see a black screen before your blue Windows logon screen. When you see that black screen punch F12 or F2 (depending on your computer).
Follow the Windows installation. I would go into more detail but the site that I referred you to at the beginng of this post did such a nice job...that I'm gonna refer you to that. Now this is going to take forever. So go see a movie..actually go see 2 movies...yes, it will take that long if not longer. Mine took 4 and a half hours.
After that's done though...bam! Say hello to your new Windows! :)
Now it may be a lil outta whack...screen might be messed up, icons too big/small, whatever...that's cause you don't have the drivers to make it run normal and pretty like.
So install any missing drivers. Chnaces are though you won't have all of them (at least I didn't). Now remember that DriverMax I had you download? Well, install it on your computer and import all the drivers you had exported to your harddrive before you formatted.
Next, install a anti-virus protection. Pronto. I highly, gigantically, recommend you do it before you go online.
If your anti-virus was on a CD go ahead and upload it. If you downloaded it online....well make sure you download it on to your external harddrive before you wipe it, so that you can download it on to your computer from your external harddrive.
Now, go online and update Windows. Be sure to install any software updates you need and make sure your firewall is up and you are protected.
And you're done! Let me know how it works out for you :)

I have way more to post than just this..

2009-01-19T22:02:00.004-05:00

But it will have to do for now.
I'm a columnist (sorta) for The Alligator, the newspaper at UF and here is my first column....ready? Ta-da!! You can read the original here but I posted it so that if you're really lazy you don't have to make that extra click :P

Online proposals no substitution for face–to–face romance
By Michelle Hipps, Speaking Out

LuckyD0g21: So what are your plans for this weekend?

SunshineGrl43: I’m gonna hang out with the girls and maybe go see Bride Wars.

LuckyD0g21: You think you can squeeze me in for a date?

No matter how it’s phrased or what online method is used, it’s becoming more common for guys to ask girls out online.

I can’t help but wonder why.

My friends suggested shyness, a desire to speed up the relationship or maybe just the opportunity presenting itself. Though these are all critical, I think the real core issue is rejection. That, I think, is the harsh reality that makes guys use the online method when asking girls out.

They can ask for a date and if the answer is no, well, it wasn’t said to their face, so they’ve saved their ego. How convenient.

Since when did rejection become so avoidable?

Rejection is something we should face, I believe, fairly frequently. Rejection will make you tougher and make you work for the things you really want. If there’s someone you wish to spend time with, no amount of rejection will stop you from getting what you want.

Aside from the obvious, experiencing rejection will influence how you reject others. My personal experience with rejection, though sometimes painful, has proved beneficial.

When I was placed in the position to refuse an applicant for hire, I did it gently and gave her another option, pointing her across the street to another place that was hiring. Who knows — maybe I pushed her through the door that was supposed to be opened by my rejection of her application.

Avoiding rejection and placing buffers around you to prevent rejection is, quite frankly, weak. Rejection and all the other pains of life make you stronger, so avoiding them is your undoing. Knowing this, I won’t accept a proposal for a date when asked online.

Ask me in person, or ask me over the phone and put yourself out there. Show me your courage; show me you’re willing to face rejection to get what you really want.

I’m not saying that asking a girl out in person or over the phone where you’re more vulnerable will secure your chances of scoring a date. Nope, I can’t guarantee that. However, it will make us respect you. It reminds us what you’re putting on the line to ask us out: yourself. It also reminds us ladies that we can’t just CTRL+ALT+DEL the conversation like nothing happened.

No, if we turn your offer down we need to do it gracefully and nicely because we are dealing with a person and not some vague online identity. Conversing and dealing with people in person is tough on both parties, but we haven’t reached a point in our lives where we strictly deal with people online. We still have to master face–to–face interaction with people, which means we need to practice it.

So put down your BlackBerry or iPhone and say hello to the person next to you – especially if it’s a person you’re interested in. And instead of asking them for their e–mail address, I suggest starting with, “You wanna get some coffee?”

Michelle A. Hipps is a telecommunications senior.

A poem? for moi?

2009-01-16T16:53:00.002-05:00

I had to wipe my computer, the whole process took me about 3 days to do....yet I managed to get through it and I have to say, I'm very happy with myself. :)
So that's my excuse for not being the dedicated blogger that I should be.
Anyway I someone wrote a poem and dedicated it to me so I thought it would be apropo to share it with you. (I'm having a de ja vu` moment....did I already post this?) meh...well here it is again.

Strangers
By: Kristopher Elliott

Optimistic and Fidgety
It’s hard to get a bearing on what
To think or what to perceive
But that night I took a chance
And walked away with
A good friend
That stranger in the night…

One widget to rule them all..

2009-01-08T18:54:00.004-05:00

I needed to add widgets to my blog to point people to where I'm at on the web. So I strolled over to various sites to look at their widgets and was not really liking the huge variety that I saw...I mean I like the widgets..but each site that I was on had various sizes, colors, etc...they seemed so mish-mashed when I tested them out. And I realized that someone needs to create one widget that can pull from any/each site that you want and neatly organize it for the audience's review. So I found widgetbox.com and that's what I have on my website....but, I'm still not happy with it...it has advertisements on it...and I can't add widgets to it...notice technorati is not on it...hulu's not on it...the widgetbox.com only gave me a limited selection, and that makes me unhappy.
But it was the best I could find for the current moment. I can't see myself sticking with it for very long, but I shall settle for it now. Because if I know the web, like I think I do, something better will come out. I'm counting on it.
Anyway you gotta watch this video it's so sweet.

Happy Belated New Year...I'm late...I know

2009-01-06T01:36:00.004-05:00

You miss me? Well lucky for you the feeling is mutual.
My very last semester of undergrad school starts tomorrow. I'm excited and at the same time I'm not. I want to go to school, to you know, get this last semester over with, but at the same time...I really have no desire to get up and go. Alas, I shall, because it's what's best..or so I'm told.
My computer was infected with Adware, so I resorted to system restore, something I really didn't want to do. But it fixed my issue. It also dawned on me to renew my antivirus system..something I haven't done in quite a while. Still have yet to hear back from Eset though...
Anyway, I really have to snazz up my blog...it is so lacking...it's just been on the backburner cause quite frankly I've had alot of other important things to do...ie. work, pay bills, sleep, eat, (repeat).
But I promise you audience of one, I shall get to it later this week.
Anyway, it's 1:43, and it's already past my bedtime.
Oh! but I have to tell you my new year's resolution: to live with less. Yep, that's it. Last year it was to be a vegetarian for 6 months. This year, to be a little cheaper and more efficient with my things.
Anyway I gotta run to bed. But read this when you can...it's things you should know about the internet.

Bad-ass Blogger

2008-12-30T23:59:00.003-05:00

So since I've received Jemima (my iPhone) I've been on Twitter like my life depended on it...I can even say I prefer it to Facebook. It's way more ingenious. You can get updates from people you don't know but whose thoughts, ideas, or way of thinking you prefer. And these can be people from a variety of walks of life: sucessful, just starting, old, young, geeks, health nuts...you name it, it's on there.
I think Twitter's popularity is due mostly to it's medium....more people have phones that are compatible to being on Twitter and updating on Twitter.
Being on Twitter has made me aware of how small I am...I used to think I could becoma a bad-ass blogger. But nope. Not even close. There are people who have been in the blogosphere for longer and while in the process, have really made a name for themselves. I am so insignificant. So why don't I just stop? 'Cause. I don't want to. I'm not here to start a revolution or rebellion...I'm here because it's fun. :)
So when you read this blog, be forewarned: I'm here for the fun of it.
On a side note...tomorrow is the last day of my internship! yay! and this...this is a cute video.

You need me...

2008-12-27T01:10:00.002-05:00

...You know you do.
I've been working my butt off at my internship and at my job...this past week I punched in almost 50 hours. So forgive my need for sleep. I have alot to talk about (when do I not?) but seeing as it's 1:11 in the morning and I have to work tomorrow...I'm probably better off catching up on some sleep. One update though: I can hear :) out of both ears.
Okay, okay, enough prolonging this inevitable departure.
Later homefries.

What PR companies need to know.

2008-12-19T11:17:00.004-05:00

I have a nasty cough. I don’t have a cold (at least I don’t think so) but I have this cough and it’s been hanging around for about 3 days now. It needs to exit out the front door.
Anyway so you must know I’m interning at a PR company…well working here has made me realize how stupid, but necessary interning is for a student.
Working here has also made me realize that PR companies are going to die a slow death if they don’t figure out what’s going on. I updated the phonelist here and it didn’t occur to me till afterwords that it is the blood in this company’s veins. That phonelist is this company’s “Rolodex” of 30 years of hard work….and I can get all those number online, minus the 30 years. PR companies aren’t necessary anymore. There really is no reason for them…they refuse to blog, because they’re afraid of their message getting skewed or of feedback, they won’t delve into the web, because they think people prefer to view their information on paper, they’re terrified of change and immediacy, and their contacts can be gotten anywhere. Why PR are you still here?
I have come across one PR company who I think finally got the idea. I was so happy. Because quite honestly, I think the social media should have gone to PR companies. They were the most apt to handle it….communication is their thing. But they didn’t take the reins fast enough…same goes for journalism…but at least journalism took part of it before it was completely lost to them….PR hasn’t done a thing.
So now, a person anywhere, any age, doing anything can start their own blog, join twitter, get their name out via digg, and have more contacts and be more prominent than any PR company. I agree with Melvin Yuan, what I think is going to happen is that companies will start to realize that they just need one person inside their company to manage their information. One person who will maintain a blog, update their website, be active on Twitter, and most importantly be transparent. The company’s audience shouldn’t have to go through numerous persons to get the real scoop. The day where that happened is over. People’s attention spans are shorter and they won’t tolerate it…and if you aren’t accommodating them: you lost them.

Been meaning to do this..

2008-12-18T01:07:00.005-05:00

It's been awhile I know..
but good news. I mean really good news. I got an iPhone. :) call it my early Christmas gift :)
I am a happy little soul. So hence the reason I haven't blogged...I've been messing around on 'Jemima'...oh, I named her. Anyway, here are the updates....I'm interning at a PR company and working at Houston's, and the combination is going to kill me. But anyway, I went to the audiologist doctor today...and now I'm on steroids. They don't think my deafness is permanent. Thank God.
Oh and yesterday, I was mentioned in a California classroom 3,000 miles away because my friend thought an action I committed was relevant to his lesson plan that day. I thought that was pretty cool.
Oh annnnndddd my brother pulled out the trampoline. Expect some trampoline pics. I can almost guarantee you. Wow....I am just rambling on and on.....I'm so sorry....this is an atrocious post. *sigh* I'm just tired. I'm having a hard time coming up with things to say....that's a first.
Well I mean, I know there's some stuff I wanted to mention like: Sarah Palin's a artist, this would be incredibly cool to have, and this is a quote well worth reading....in my opinion.
Oh and that me and my family want to spread holiday cheer to you. :)
I guess that's all I'm having a hard time forming a coherent thought....so I shall call it a night.
But one last thought:
"The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips and walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable."
So Christian ponder that. Be on fire, or be my firewood.

Edit your photo's

2008-12-12T19:11:00.004-05:00

I am a crazy photo editor....I just love to do it and Picnik is the other half of my picture editing heart. I used it today and I love it. Just love it. Oh, not only is it a pretty sweet online photo editor...it's free.
Anyhow....so this is starting to go around the block and back again a couple of times...so I thought I would share it with you. Pretty funny.

Invitation to the pity party

2008-12-11T18:13:00.002-05:00

Finals are over with, I feel like someone just unstrapped me from a very tight corset. It's a relief. Anyway, so I spent 3 hours at the doctor's and special clinic to test my left ear because I can no longer hear from it. I walked away with no relief from the silence. Tomorrow I'm gong to an ENT to see if they can somehow treat it. Now if you have been a faithful follower of this wonderful, amazing, superfluous, blog you will remember I came back from TX's over the summer on a plane while I had a cold. The result from that was a serious infection that had me deaf for about a month. Well, the ear that was infected is the same ear that is now deaf. The problems never cease. Anyway, I cried for a bit while coming back home. I don't want to be partially deaf, that's just no fun. But then I realized: I still have the other ear, so it's really not all that bad. My life could be much worse. The pity party that I was enjoying so much earlier got broken up by my positive thoughts.
Anywayzers...so that was my day. I also heard that alot of '.com's' are being used around the world wide web so "officials" are probably going to start using '.mobi' as a substitute for '.com'....actually '.mobi' is already available for public registration.
so yeah I thought that was pretty interesting.....what kinda stinks though is that it's 4 letters...not 3 like .com.
Why couldn't they have made it two? or one? sheesh...they need a person like me to work for them. :P

SEC Champioships...

2008-12-07T11:50:00.000-05:00

Gators wash their dirty laundry in Tide.

Happy Birthday to me!

2008-12-05T14:46:00.002-05:00

Totally meant to do this 2 months ago..but my blog is a year old (and two months in change)!

You probably already know..

2008-12-05T13:39:00.004-05:00

But O.J. will be sentenced to at least six years for armed robbery and kidnapping in a horrible attempt to get back sports memorabilia from two collectibles peddlers. Man, what a moron. I mean seriously, he was in the public eye, people know him, and then he goes and pulls a stunt like that for memorabilia? Sheesh. To be a criminal is to be stupid.
But on an even funnier note:

What can you do with one string..

2008-12-04T16:09:00.002-05:00

I love to watch videos..

2008-12-04T02:01:00.004-05:00

Who doesn't.
Wimp.com you'll love me for introducing you to this guy's site. It's as addicting as Youtube.
Last thought. For all women who don't think they're as pretty as those poster board girls.

Procrastination at it's finest..

2008-12-03T23:37:00.004-05:00

So yes....I changed my layout. Are you really surprised? Psh. You shouldn't be.
I didn't really like the other one. It wasn't spacious like this one is. I like my blogs to be spacious. Leaves me feeling like I have lots of room to write. Anyway, I have a 6 page paper that is due in a day and a half and that I should be banging away on but instead I shall regal you of things I have seen and discovered.
Ever heard of Geocaching? I had never heard of it and oh my word it's insane. So word for word this is what they say it is 'a high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices.' Literally. People hide things around the world and you can go look for them and find them. I looked for caches here in G'ville and the list was endless. I really had no idea so many people were doing this...but it does sound fun. For right now you need a GPS device to help you find these caches but they are working on an app for the iPhone...so you wouldn't need to lug your GPS around. (sigh) Another reason to have an iPhone.
Okay so I live in Florida....growing up in Ft. Lauderdale I never associated Florida with the word cold, but this morning it was 28 degrees! There was snow on the ground! Ok, so maybe not snow; it was a large amount of frost covering a large part of the road I was going by. I would have taken a picture of it, cause I had my camera with me, but in a classic Michelle Epic Fail moment, I forgot my memory card. Fail.
I have more to write about but this paper is blocking almost every thought that comes to mind.
I best get working on it....

Pre-wishes...

2008-11-26T11:53:00.005-05:00

Well yesterday I woke up not feeling so hawt, but apparently it wasn't enough to kill me or make not blog today.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow. (I'm sure you didn't know this which is why I'm telling you.) So you'll be busy and I'll be busy...I'll mostly be stuffing my face. No, wait I take that back. I'm not back to 100% health so I'll most likely be taking it easy on the food. But anyway the point is we'll be busy.
Wow. I know how to drag out making a point :P
I recently came across Chris Botti...a very talented young guy....and he has a very delicious Christmas CD. I shall be playing that in the background of my Thanksgiving Day while enjoying family, some friends, and hopefully, food. I encourage you to check him out and if you like what you hear...well either download (legally) or buy his CD. Anyway that's all I have to say...I have to go pack now...So if I don't have the honor of wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving, let me wish it to you now. Happy Thanksgiving! eat your heart out. :) I love you homies.

I clearly have no life...

2008-11-24T20:15:00.003-05:00