Napali coast… a wild adventure 

The Napali coast. It’s a natural phenomenon of which I have never seen anything similar to before. As featured in the Jurassic parks movie, it’s greenery and elegance are reflected in everything around it. The hills are best described as velvety green and the water that splashes onto the coast a turquoise blue. 

An upside to traveling with a professional rock climber is that they push your boundaries and test your adventurous limits. We left our condo around six am in order to drive up to the Napali coast where we would be doing our eight mile hike. Now eight miles doesn’t sound like a lot, but it is considerably more strenuous when half the trek is swimming through rivers, crawling through mud, and stumbling down boulders on near vertical surfaces. 

Our group of seven split up into two groups. Peter the rock climber, my friend Jess, and I (being the most capable for the trek) went up ahead and left the others to take a slower pace.  

As we neared the trailhead, giant warning signs greeted us.

 “Caution: flash flood area” 
“Caution: strong tide current”
“Cation: steep cliffs ahead” 
“Cation: falling rocks” 
The sight was slightly ominous. But there was a certain thrill in the air. It was almost like a challenge. It was pushing us toward the end of the world and unexplored territory. (At least unexplored to me)

It took us about three hours to hike into the back country where we would turn around and head back. The loop was 22 miles if you were to complete the entire thing. 

At the 4 miles we ended up at the bottom of the mountains near the turquoise ocean. But it was much more interesting then your adverage beach. The high tide had created a type of land bridge and a separate body of water in an inlet. It wasn’t exactly a lake, but rather a giant tide pool of smooth sand and guppies. It was only about waist deep at most, and the sun had warmed the water to almost hot tub temperature. Maybe around 90 degrees. Unlike the ocean which was staid by strong and dangerous tide, this pool was completely still even though it was only twenty feet away. It was also stunningly clear water. You could see every little detail on the bottom including variation in the color of grains of sand. It seemed surreal. 

On the side of the pool were cliff walls which opened into caves and large caverns. Being the capable adventurer he is, Peter had a head lamp so we took a look around but stopped when we noticed a deep dark underwater lake. There are very few things I fear, but I must admit this is one of them. There was an incident when I was younger that prompts me to have a fear of cave lakes and drowning in general, but we won’t go into that now. Either way there was no way in hell I was going into that water to continue. I was able to convince the others to turn back when we noticed another warning sign. 

“Caution: Do NOT swim. Possible flesh eating bacteria present” 

But as we weren’t to turn back we were handed a tempting offer. If you were to continue another two miles up the trail you would reach a waterfall with another pool at the bottom. He offered to take both Jess and I but we decided to decline once we assessed our water situation and found it was almost gone.  

At the end of the day we thankful that we had declined his offer. When we picked him up from his further adventure another four hours later, he admitted he was glad we didn’t join him. Evidently the condition of the terrain only worsened, the mid afternoon sun was scorching, and in the four hours we gave him before we picked him up he only managed to make it another mile. Worst of all, he didn’t even reach the waterfall. Given that he is a professional rock climber, this is a horrifying thought to consider how rough this trail really was. 

We learned a few days later that the state of Hawaii requires proof of experience and a license to continue past the point I went. Oops.  

I’ve adopted it as a personal goal of mine in the future to return to the island and complete the 22 mile loop. Maybe like a bucket list goal, so to say.  

 

Surf’s up

Today I learned to surf. This might not sound like a huge deal, but considering I am from Colorado, it’s a pretty unique experience for me. 

It was just about as painful as I expected, but it was surprisingly easier the I thought it would be. The key is to fall…. A lot. This is true partially because you just naturally get better with practice. But it is mostly true because I’ve realized that when you get accustomed to falling you don’t fear it anymore and the natural feel of balance slowly comes. If you aren’t fearful of falling, you aren’t distracted by it. Focus and relaxation is a pretty big deal evidently. 

Unfortunately through, when I did fall the first few times, I fell hard. Little did I know that I would end up flipping my board over a coral reef and slicing open my right foot with about five sizable gashes. Also during this incident I managed to knock the wind our of myself.  Dazed and confused, is at there holding onto my board for dear life for a few seconds before the pain subsided.

The next rookie mistake I made was letting myself get pulled into a current that ended up with me spraining my hand when I landed on the beach. My right hand got stuck under my board. Don’t ask me how… I’m not even sure myself. 

Yet despite the pain, it was totally worth it. By the end my second hour I could actually catch a wave and ride it for a few feet before face planing into the sand. When you manage to successfully ride a wave you feel like pure sunshine. It’s like you’re on top of the world and nothing can bring you down. (Well except for maybe a shark or tsunami)  

 

LA? No way…  and other interesting observations 

I am not a fan of LA. 

Well, I suppose that judgement is a little presumptuous. Let’s just say I am not a fan of LAX, or it’s airport. I have never actually spent significant time in the city besides layovers. 

As you fly into the city a layer of thick pollution coats the city. From the sky you just see mile upon mile of dirty commercial sprawl with small residencies intertwined among the urban expanse. There is no greenery on the ground, maybe with the exception of a few palm trees. This is not surprising considering the entire city is made up of one large concerted block. I believe it was Amy Poehler who once said that she will never fully understand LA.  Now I know why. 

Once our plane landed we were forced to taxi around for about half an hour before we were able find our way to a gangplank. Evidently there was a backload of flights being held up because of various mechanical issues. 

Flight attendants tell you to remain calm and quiet in this situation but I am here to tell you that “calm and quiet” doesn’t happen when you have a connecting flight to catch in exactly fifteen minutes. There is nothing more aggravating  then being held captive on an incoming flight when the seconds ticking by are an annoying reminder that your plane started to bored and you are a sitting duck several concourses away. In a situation like this, there is no chill. 

Once we finally were able to make our way off the plane, it hit me just how  appreciative of effiency I am exactly. I remember complaining a few months ago about the inconsistency and inefficiency of the Heathrow airport in London. LAX makes their connection transportation system look like first class service. Once we made out way off the plane, we were stranded on a little island in the middle of the Tarmac so we had to take a bus back to the central part of the airport. Now I wish I could say this went smoothly and quickly. But we were put on a bus where we left in the 105 degree heat for quit  some time given our tight connection . Were obviously inconvincing her because she seemed to be in the middle of a a gossip session with one of her close friends. They literally started to braid each others hair when my family and I finally got the guts to ask if we could get a move on. With an eye roll and a snort she finally asked her friend to leave so we could get a move on. Like I said before, I am used to effcency and I appreciate people who take their jobs seriously and have a little respect for the airlines who pay them. Silly me, guess I needed a reality check. 

But, somehow we still managed to catch our flight because of some sort of magical intervention from above. We made the cut off for boarding by exactly two minuets. As I write this I’m looking out the window and admiring large expanse of ocean. But on our way from Denver to LA the view was a bit more unique. The Grand Canyon indeed looks like a giant crack in the earth compared to all the flat desert around it. It was an unusual site and one I felt honored to see on such a clear day. 

 Fun fact: it takes about four minuets to fly over the Grand Canyon in a commercial jet. 

Now on our other connection from LA to Lihui, Hawaii I saw something else amazing. From above cloud level, the Pacific Ocean appeared to be the exact same shade aqua blue as the sky above it.  The fluffy clouds in between the two layers looked like a thin layer of marshmallow in this sandwich of blue. It looked like the sky had been reflected into a mirror.   (See picture below) 

Finally as we settle into our little bungalow/condo I finally have time to tell you about my journey so far. I was surprised to find that the rooms don’t have air conditioning, but the soft ocean breezes and free wifi more then make up for it. The view off our balcony happens to be that of a cactus garden. This worries me slightly because I have a bad history with cactuses. The last time I was near a cactus garden the surgeon had to pull eight thornes out of my thighs, arms, and face.  

 

 

mosquitoes and mayhem

Fun Fact: I have never been camping.

Despite the fact I have lived  in the heart of the Rocky Mountains for 18 years and have a deep love for the outdoors, I have never been camping. Or, at lest until now….

Our little camping trip originally started as a week long group trip to Lake Powell but eventually after several road blocks we had a change of plans. It made me sad at the time to consider all of our planning we had done over the course of a month was irrelevant. But after reflecting upon the events of the last couple days, I know realize the verse had something else in mind for me.

It didn’t quite hit me until we were out in the middle of freaking nowhere without cell service how much I actually trust my boyfriend. Since our other friend decided to bail on the trip, it turned out to just be the two of us. As we drove mile after mile into the wilderness it occurred to me just how easy it would be to kill someone out here and dispose of the body without a trace. (What a romantic thought to be having while alone with your boyfriend… I know) Still, the thought of being outside the reach of reality and responsibility with such an awesome person for a few days was a awesome thought.

We reached our destination and started to set up camp in a little field on the edge of an aspen grove. We started to set up the tent.  I attempted to help, but felt like I was performing an SNL comedy skit. Not only was my clumsy disposition getting in the way but I had never actually set one up before. It probably looked like I was attempting to build a space ship for NASA according to the look of pure concentration on my face.

As sunset neared, so did the misquotes. They were literally everywhere. As we made smores for dessert we decided to try putting peanut butter on the gram crackers. Which is amazing and delicious for the record. But it turns out they are also attracted to peanut butter. I was already pretty frustrated at that point so my rage accidentally let itself out as I yelled “STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY PEANUT BUTTER!” The look on my boyfriend’s face was priceless because he assumed I was talking to him at first. oops. I have a feeling that this is the start of a long term inside joke.

Strangely enough, the award for most awkward moment of the night goes to the moment when we realized we had been set up. It was your classic situation. Unknown to my boyfriend, one of his friends had snuck a condom and a pack of beer into our camping supplies. Luckily we had a good laugh about it and I have a pretty solid plan to mess with his friend next time I see him.

I have decided that the point of camping isn’t to relax and enjoy nature. It is to go for an adventure, open yourself up to new experiences with friends, and see what kind of mischief you manage to get yourself into. Well, maybe all that plus enjoying the night sky. For the record: those stars were amazing.

Unexplored territory and a twist on unfamiliarity

Our last day in Prague was definitely among one of my favorites. Despite having a last nostalgic walk around the city, I discovered many unknown gems of the area and had a few unreplicable experiences. 

We woke up early on Sunday in an attempt to attend Palm Sunday mass at one of the city’s historical cathedrals. The morning air was extremely chilly and misty rain fell from the sky from grey clouds above. The entire hillside was foggy so it was hard to see Prague  which usually adorns the hillside. 

The cathedral itself, although plain on the outside, it’s brilliantly decorated with vivid frescos which can be seen 300 feet above on the carefully hand painted ceiling. Gold statues of saints, apostles, and martyrs keep careful watch over the (very uncomfortable) antique wooden pews. 

Right as we sat down, a priest said something in Czech and the entire congregation followed him to a court yard. Here, the air was warmer and thick with inscents. We gathered here with a group of probably around thirty other locals. Since it was Palm Sunday, everyone brought branches as tradition dictates. But instead of using dried palm leaves, a group of locals had gone a few before and cut fresh pussywillow branches from a nearby town. Since it is early spring, the large fuzzy white blossoms were absolutely beautiful on the green branches. 

One thing which caught me off guard was not the fact the mass was in Czech, or the fact it was about twelve degrees in the gothic church, but how we received communion. 

Back in the states, we usually cup our hands right under left before the priest places it in our palm. Then after, it is optional to partake in the wine or “blood.”  Back in the Czech Republic, the priest dips the bread or “body” into the wine before literally feeding it to you. All the locals just opened their mouth and allowed him to place it in. Being the ignorant American, I studdered awkwardly as the entire congregation of Czech Catholics watched me attempt to partake In communion. At first I presented my palm as is typically the norm. But instead of just handing it to me, the priest just stood there and waited for me to catch on. His eyes were full amused judgment. 

After mass, we found ourselves just off a small courtyard in an adorable little bakery and coffee shop. One thing I love about Prague is their delicious food and drinks. On multiple occasions I had their version of a thin but rich chocolate pudding, which they refer to as “hot coco.” I knew this is typical in Spain, but didn’t know it was similar in Eastern Europe too. 

On the menu they had a short snipit of history about the courtyard. To my surprise, a nobleman beheaded his wife there in the early 16th century.  It did not specify why, but I figure she probably cheated on him or something to that effect. 

After the cafe, we decided to go visit a moneststy at the top of the hill we had heard lots about. We debated on taking a taxi, but I’m so glad we braved the hill and hiked up ourselves. Once you passed the main city center and neared the crest of the hill, cobble stones turned into fresh green grass and you had the opportunity to take a stroll among the vineyard where the local monks produce  wine and fresh grapes.  By that point you are high enough on the hill to have a beautiful view of the entire city. Much like Vienna, turquoise domes provide a contract against the red rooves of houses in Prague. 

An education in international relations 

As I sit here writing this, an episode of the Simpsons in Czech plays in the background. It’s slightly amusing even though I don’t understand the language the plot line is pretty simple to follow. Emotions and tone of voice is identical and gestures say all you need to know. Yet, this phenomenon proves ture for more then just tevevision shows. 

I walk into a nightclub last night called the “Harley”  accomplished by my cousin and a friend. We sit at a table near a bar and it takes a little less then five minuets before we are already being offered drinks by a groups of guys.  People from all over the world come to Prague to dance, mingle, drink, and enjoy the nightlife.  Three pretty girls was more then the guys were able to handle evidently because before we knew it we were being invited to bottle service tables, offered shots of Tennessee Honey, and pulled from around the waist into a twirl on the dance floor. We were especially careful about the drinks because of the growin popularity in date rape drugs. It made me feel much better about the situation to know I had a friend and and my cousin (who is pretty much my big sister) keeping an eye out for me. 

When eyes meet, winks are exchanged, and a hand is offered in a gesture towards the dance floor, the signals are clear. Would an offer for a dance actually hurt anyone? Probably not. By the end of the night I had met a cute guy from Transylvania, four flirtatious Dutchmen, several Germans, loud and slightly older gentlemen from Scotland, some pushy hipster with a man bun (I never got his nationality), and a very sweet local from the  Czech Republic. 

It’s an interesting game…. Meeting people in a bar with hundreds of nationalities. At first you aren’t even sure if you speak the same language. Ironically, this is the only time I have actually used my high school Spanish. But after you concour the language barrier, the conversation turns into the game of “guess where I’m from.” It’s very much like the American teenage boy version of “twenty questions.”  Strangely enough, no one ever guesses I’m form the United States. Everyone always guesses Russia, the Ukraine, or once in a while France or Italy.  

The guy from Transylvania was more intriguing then anything else and slightly creepy. He had gotten there about an hour after we did. The whole time I could feel his eyes constantly on our group. At first I thought his attention was on my cousin, until she pointed out it was really on me. He barely did anything else except stare in my direction and smile sweetly. His move was actually quite brilliant, because I eventually got curious and made my way over to say hi. He was obviously taken aback but we managed to exchange a few worlds he explained that he had not come over sooner but, ” he was too shy and I was  so I pretty.” I almost snorted at the cliche, but was able to resist and only smile in response.” 

Now, I should probably explain the bottle service reference. As we were on the dance floor, a guy approached us and started whispering in my cousins ear. He then lead her by a hand to a nearby private table, one by one he returned and did the same with both my friend and I. I know this sounds like a major judgement lapse on my part, but technically we really only talked…. Until he hailed the waitress and she soon returned with a bottle of vodka and cans of red bull. The three if us shot each other a glance and took on amused smirks.  

I would be lying if I didn’t admit I was given some very strange compliments last  night.  While I was dancing, the same guy who wanted us to come party with him leaned over and whispered in my ear “You have a beauftil from. I’ve ne’er seen anything like it. Your legs are so long. I’ve fallen in love.”  At this point, I could no longer contain my laughter. European men have this type of well spoken and smooth nature to them. It’s like a type of classy elegance which is reserved for such occasions. But, this was simply over the top. 

The variety of mucus was amusing because one moment they were plaing hardcore metal  and the next alternative artists like Train. 

By the end if the night, I was thoughtly enjoying myself. If anything, the atmosphere was fun to observe and the flirtatious comments bounced around the room.  

I was taken aback when the hippy guy with a man bun randomly put his hand around my waste and pulled me onto the dance floor. It did not take long too notice he was entirely too drunk and too much of an ass to even deal with. We were dancing with our palms together when all of a sudden he pulled my hands down and placed them directly on his own ass cheeks. The look on my face was probably priceless.  He was clearly a European, probably Bulgarian from the look of him. But he was so proud to show off his own body he wasn’t too interested in touching home. Thank goodness, or he would likely be sitting in en emergency room now, praying he might one day be able to walk again. I would have made sure of that. 

It was then when I noticed the guy I would soon find out was a local from Prague. He seemed to be very perceptive to others’ emotions and caught on quickly that I must have been feeling awkward in my current situation.  As soon as I was able to ditch the show off, the cute Czech quickly cut in for his turn.  He was probably about 6′ 4″ and very blonde with a slender build. It is innocent fun like that which I actually enjoy. He simply seemed to have no other motives then to get to know me and enjoy an evening out.  We danced for a while, content to enjoy each other’s company without any other strings attached. By the end of the night he finally asked I if I wished to go get dinner with him in an evening or two… Unfortunately, I had to politely refuse. In his cute little accent his sadly said “Then is suppose we will never see each other again. Goodbye!” It was one of those lingering statements, one that echos in your mind. 

By that time it was about 3:30 am and we decided it was time to head back so we could get about three hours of sleep before our busy day that morning.  Crazy as it might sound, this wasn’t even half the stories which I could share from the night. My first nightclub experience was legendary to say the least. I realize that I’ll be getting a hard time from my cousin for years to come after this! 

One to remember 

For all my friends back in the United States, there is about a seven hour difference beteern Prague and  Denver. So while I was experiencing the Czech version of jägermire, most people were off working day jobs and sleeping the Saturday away. Not to sound mean or anything…

Anyway, although today was a good day, the evening turned out to be even better. I mentioned in an earier post that Prague had a decent nightlife. That turned out to be an understatement. As we went to go visit the historic national museum building, we were disappointed to hear it was closed for the next four years because of construction. As we went to walk away, we happened to see a lady on the side of the box office. She was advertising tickets to a symphony. We were already interested at seeing an opera or musical performance so decided what she had to say. Turns out, she offered tickets to a symphony right here inside the national museum.

We were pretty skeptical when we heard that the cost was the equivalent to about twenty American dollars each, but decided to commit and buy tickets anyway.

As the six o’clock curtain call neared, we were sure there had been some sort of a mistake. A lady let us into the theatre and we went to go take seats. We walked into the building to find chairs on the stairs of the entrance to the museum. The walls were engraved with beautiful gold platelet faces and designs and red carpets adorned the large steps of four identical stair cases. Large golden lanterns lit the the main room and left dark shadows in dark corridors  of the remainder of the building.

My dad and I joked about how the museum was possibly haunted. The air was cool and the building was not heated.

When time for the concert to began finally came, a total of six musicians walked on stage. Three violins, a cellist, a bass player, and a pianist waked onto a platform which was set up with music stands. What I had believed to be a full orchestra happened only to be a chamber orchestra. For such a small group, their sound resonated beautifully. There only about ten people in the entire audience. For the small price of about twenty dollars, we were granted access of a private performance of Vilvaldi and Mozart’s most famous music in one of the most famous buildings of the Czech Republic.  For a reference, this building probably sees thousands of tourists a day in the summer and is reserved as a national landmark. Let’s just say I felt pretty special for a private performance in the middle of it all.

Afterword, perhaps a little drunk (no foreshadow or pun intended) on adrenaline. So we decided to take a sneak peak down the dark corridors of the abandoned museum. To be entirely honest, the wasn’t much to see. All the exhibits had been taken down, only dusty display cases were left as the moon shined though the large windows. At that moment, I almost believed it was haunted.

Now I should probably explain the jägermire reference. At dinner, since my 18th birthday is tomorrow, my dad suggested I be adventurous so the waiter decided to bring me a shot of the local  liquor. The tase would best be described as a cinnamon type mint, with a strong aftertaste of spice.  I usually don’t like minty drinks, but I must admit it had a really refreshing flavor. Despite being refreshing though, it was also very very strong.  After two glasses of wine plus that shot, I feel pretty loopy.

After being only my first whole day in Prague, I can’t wait to experience other crazy things in this unique city for the next nine days.

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A whole new world 

After nearly my first whole day in Prague I can say one thing for certain. This is a city, unlike other old European cities, that is still growing and developing its own sence of peonality.

Ever since the fall of the communist party here, Prague has been establishing a new culture. Since the city was not bombed during would war 2 all the historical buildings and gothic architecture stand tall and intact. From the cobblestone streets, up past the carefully detailed siding, bright redrooves, and up to the starkly contrasting bright blue sky, the city screams of its pride.  On the outside of town hundreds of ugly and cold apartment buildings can be seen falling into disrepair and rubble. They show proof of the communist party’s failed attempt at mass housing before independence was won for the Czech people.

Despite ancient buildings and historical streets, the city is beaming of youth.  At night the streets grow crowded and noisy as people flock to clubs, bars, restaurants, and concerts. Young adults from across Europe flock to the city on weekends to party and take part in cheap food and good alcohol. Beer is very popular here and the city is renoued for its various brews. They also have a selection of delicious wine (both sweet white and oaky red)… My favorites.

They are also unusually relaxed about rules and regulations. At dinner last night I ordered wine, since I am not yet eighteen they didn’t seem to care about age and therefor failed to ask me for identification. Although this is pretty standard around Europe, it still seems odd in contrast to the laws of the United States.

Cars park wherever they wish in the streets. Last night smart cars were scattered on sidewalks and larger cars jut out every which way on the street.  People also tend to be very aggressive  and fast drivers in this city. If you don’t look both ways before crossing a street, you have a very high chance at being hit head on at fourth miles per hour or more. Last night I was almost side swiped by a man on a little motorcycle.

Yet another variation which supposed me was the amount of smoke in the city. Unlike the United States, smoking is not only allowed …but encouraged in many public restaurants and bars. In the markets and major squares people use smokers to cook ham, cinnamon  rolls, and other classic street food. Instead of fried food, Prague seemed to have smoked food.

If you ever happen to visit the city, I highly recommend the local street food. I has some honey baked ham today for lunch and it was simply delicious. Tomorrow I hope to try other street food such as their famous potato crisps.

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the pun is greater then the pain

This morning, the universe decided I was going to make friends with a ditch and two strangers. Because I live in the mountains, snowy roads are not usually not an issue for me. I am pretty comfortable driving in icy conditions. Still, shit happens. While I was on my way down to the highway this morning, some idiot came barreling up the road taking up nearly all two lanes.  This forced me to swerve out of the way and ultimately make me end  up in  a ditch. Unfortunately, the snowplow had piled up the equivalent of three feet of snow into the ditch.  This made it impossible for me to free myself from the snowbank.

I sat there for a few seconds debating on the best possible course of action. Despite putting sand under my wheels for traction and switching into 4 wheel drive, I was still a sitting duck. I was pretty annoyed at myself for being stuck in this situation. Although it was not my fault, the feeling of helplessness irritated me.

Despite the frustration, I came to realize being in this situation restored faith in humanity. It felt good to know that almost everyone who passed me on their way down the mountain stopped and asked if they could assist me and made sure I was okay. Some people offered to wait with me while help came, others offered me a ride back to my house. Eventually one of my neighbors drove by and offered to pull me out with his massive truck and toe ropes.  I graciously accepted and it did not take much time to get my own little truck free with the proper equipment.  He and his wife were some of the most relaxed people I have ever met. This was probably a very good thing given my state of annoyed frustration.

After my little blue truck was free, I decided to give up on the day and simply head back home. The young couple teased me and gave me a hard time about skipping school since they had “just freed me so I could continue my important education,” before they departed.

The ironic part about all of this is the fact it is senior ditch day at my high school. This is the day where my entire graduating class decides to take a self proclaimed day off, despite the dismay of administration. If I had simply stayed home and had a relaxing morning, rather then trying to accomplish things, this would ever of happened. Between the time I had attempted to get myself out of the sticky situation and the time when help finally arrived, I had a very dorky and humorous realization.  I was sitting in a DITCH, on senior DITCH DAY. The pun, no matter how stupid or lame, had just made my entire day. I was literally sitting there in my truck unable to stop laughing. I am really glad no one drove up at that moment because they probably would have debated calling an ambulance just in case of head trauma.

The night I saw (almost) everyone

Today, I have learned two very important things.

1) You can not win a fight against the universe. You must adapt plans no matter what they may be to include this so- called “plot twist” in your day.

2) Negative people absolutely useless and simply annoying.

Waking up this morning was a struggle. Stuck somewhere between dream land and reality I faintly noticed the sound of my alarm clock. From the moment I fully awoke there was a feeling in my gut that today would be an strange one.

At school, people seemed miserable. There was something in the air which I could not explain. Every time I turned around, someone was bitching about something new or attempting to drag me into their drama. Possibly the best decision I made all day was tuning out the world and deciding to listen to chill dub step. The moment I the nagging and whining were blocked from my ears, my mood seemed to boost by a thousand percent. Little things like the sunshine pouring though the window warming my skin and the taste of my strawberry smoothie became my main focus. All the people in the room seemed so unimportant and superfluous compared to the beautiful little details in front of me. A friend of mine always says “enjoy the little things.” Perhaps I did not truly verify the truth of his advice until today. If you can manage to rid your life of negativity, even for a little while, awesome results will ensue.

Earlier on this evening, I agreed to meet up with a friend for dinner. I truly feel pity for all those people out there with good friends of the opposite gender. No matter where you go, it never fails for someone to falsely identify you as a couple. Tonight, this person happened to be my boss. But after she asked us if we were a couple we say her two more times before the night was over. Did someone say awkward?

Living in a small town, no matter where you go, you are likely to see someone you know….But, tonight was simply over the top. When we decided to skip dinner since we both weren’t very hungry, we decided to stop to grab a coffee instead. Biggest mistake of the night. There, we not only ran into my boss, but two of our mutual friends as well. At the gas station later, we ran into one of my ex-boyfriends who is still insistent we should be together. When we finally decided to hang out in a nearby empty parking lot to drink our coffee, five minuets later two acquaintances pulled up and parked next to us. Although they did not say anything, I’m sure I’ll be getting a hard time from them tomorrow.

Usually we solve this problem by completing the group that I have mentioned in posts past, but the third member of the party is off studying at her universality. Eventually we decided just to give up on our serious talk of travel plans we were originally going to arrange due to sheer number of interruptions,  and decided to make a game of how many people we could run into. Unfortunately we did not accomplish our original purpose, but we had a fun time and now a funny story to share and we likewise adapted out plans.

I lik to spellz wurds

It’s  entertaining  how caught up people get on little details. Of everything there is to challenge individuals choose to fight the small battles, the ones which make little to no difference in the end. For many of my friends, their battle happens to be spelling. I like to focus on larger concepts and ideas.  I am much more productive that way. I openly challenge them to create their own blog, regularly update it with entertaining material, and use better spelling techniques. Wouldn’t it be neat to get a little competition going?

It is no secret I have issue with spelling. In fact, I literally run a magazine and am reminded of my weakness quite often. Yesterday, I was relentlessly mocked for my mistaken spelling of calm in my last blog as “clam.” But, quite possibly my biggest folly is the word minuet… wait no… minet .Hold up guys, I got this, MINUTE! There we go. In reality, it is totally on purpose…. I am just a really big fan of classical music.

It turns out that yesterday was the breaking point for errors. Gotta love my grammar Nazi. After my “clam” mistake, the memes started to roll in. I decided to share one because the irony was greater then the pain. After all, the point of this blog is to be entertaining.

I would like to remind the readers that a blog isn’t necessarily meant to be written as a formal college essay, but rather as a quickly written collection of ideas and concepts. Still, for the love (and maybe sanity) of my friends, I will attempt be become more accurate when it comes to proofreading. All this really means is that I spend a few more minuets reading over my work. Wait, minute. NOPE, SCREW IT. At this point “minuet” is simply auto-corrected into my word processor. They may as well just add my spelling to the Webster Dictionary.  Sorry. Just like those people who like to mix Skittles and M&M’s, I suppose you could just say I wanna watch the world burn.

I lost my car keys and my sanity

Life is ironic. The moment you dedicate yourself to something which has been so easy in the past, life decides to have another idea and totally redirects your fate.  I made a dedication to update this blog frequently since I often had time late at night to reflect on my thoughts. So here I am once again  attempting to overcome to chaos and provide you with  entertaining stories about my life.

Over the last couple months, I have developed a knack, no…. superpower! I now have this amazing ability to lose anything and everything in my possession.

It has been four months since I have last seen my car keys. I remember returning home from school one day to find them missing in the next morning. Baffled, I looked everywhere for them. I retraced my steps and even looked in the freaking refrigerator. Still, nothing. I was so frustrated I grabbed a spare set out of the garage before driving away. The dramatic irony of this situation was that I had placed a lanyard and multiple key chains on them to avoid this type of incident. To this day, despite my weekly effort, I still haven’t been able to track them down. At this point, I have accepted complete defeat. Keys.. one VS me… zero

I guess my searches have not been a total loss.  I’ve rediscovered some very neat stuff on the explorations through my jungle of a closet. I came across Japanese currency, a very  poorly written love letter from an elementary school crush, a box of unopened animal crackers, and an old indestructible Nokia phone.

Somehow I managed to stumble across all these ridiculous items before finding a simple set of keys. I have decided that the rule of the universe goes something like this “you will find literally everything else EXCEPT for what you’re searching for.” Unfortunately this seems that it doesn’t just apply to items, but careers and love lives too.

If I could just manage to find my keys, perhaps the universe would magically regain balance also.

Curse of the fangirl

There are a few actors who will never be unseen as characters of their most popular roles in either a TV series or movie.

While I was at the cinema today with my family, we saw a movie about Sherlock Holmes or Khan/Smog (depending on your fandom) recruit Elizabeth Swan, from Pirates of the Caribbean ,and Tom Bransen, from Downton Abbey  to build a machine that would screw over nazi Germany.  I understand from a random perspective this would sound absolutely bonkers, but I promise you that is exactly how I was forced to interpret the entire plot due to my obsessive fan girl brain.  In reality we only went to see the movie the Imitation Game starring Benedict Cumberbatch.

Being a fan girl isn’t easy. Every time you turn around there is a new imaginary hot man you will never get to be with. Plus, imaginary men ruin the real ones for you.  Real men simply cannot meet the romantic expectations that are put into heads by some fictional literary characters. Also, many people are confused by references that accidentally slip our of your mouth. I’m disappointed in you, Sherlock. Still, this is not the point.

The point is that I almost… almost felt guilty about sitting there, not fully appreciating the heart throbbing drama revealing its self before my very eyes. I was simply too busy debating the implications of the interactions of each character, drawing parallels to each of their stereotyped roles in my head. You should have seen the annoyance on my mother’s face when I asked her why John wasn’t there asking stupid questions to Sherlock Holmes the entire time. This may sound crazy, but I prefer to call it the curse of a fangirl.

The Little Lithuanian

While I was quietly sitting in advanced art today, minding my own business, my peaceful day was awkwardly interrupted by the new Lithuanian foreign exchange student at my school.  It takes a decent amount of effort to pull me out of my under-caffeinated trance in my first class of the day, but she somehow managed it.

The class was dead silent until out the blue she started laughing hysterically. Some brave sole tapped her on the shoulder to ask what was so funny. She then proceed to embark on a solid twenty minuet rant about about Kim Kardashian’s Ass…. The entire class sat in horror at the words which were not- so-elegantly flowing from her mouth. Many awkward glances were exchanged before, out of the grace of God, something happened to quickly end her rant.

She was sitting by a sink when the pipes randomly started to make creaking noises, before breaking. Water began to spray from under the sink, soaking her backpack and feet. She quickly shut up and jumped out of the wet crossfire. Although it may have been mean of me, I had difficulty controlling my laughter and eventually lost the battle to curb it.

Still, this incident alone was not enough get on my nerves. Another incident happened at lunch one day. For the first time in about four days, I dedicated to say on campus for lunch. I was chatting with my friends as we sat on our little bar stools. My fiend’s bag was sitting on the floor when the exchange student decided to mosey over and pick it up before my eyes. I was watching it because she was in the restroom. Without a word or explanation, the girl began to rummage through it. I sat there in surprise before mouthing the words “WTF” aloud. She proceeded to pull everything out as I went to grab the bag. I asked her what she thought she was doing…  “I am looking for food, my lunch is a little boring today,” she said in her odd little foreign accent. I would have had sympathy for the girl if she had been hungry, maybe a refugee from a hard life back home. I do not know her background. But, she had a lunch box stuffed full of perfectly good food! There was clearly no need to steal  lunches.

Dumbfounded, I wasn’t quite sure to say in reply. I don’t care what country you are from. Rummaging through strangers bags’ isn’t exactly a social norm.

I usually make it a point to befriend foreign exchange students. It is difficult to adapt to  a new country, a new culture, a new language. I even have plenty of friends who could be considered pretty eccentric. This girls isn’t exactly easy to get along with. Still, the future may hold a reasonable explication for her behavior.

the hickey incident

Today  I was invited by one of my good friends go eat breakfast with her and her family. It seemed like a perfectly normal Saturday Morning until we sat down to eat.

My friend’s mother happens to be a successful, strong minded, honest, and a loving parent. Still, she has a very unique quality that promises your life will never be dull in her presence. To this day, I have never been disappointed by the quality of conversation.

There are two (or really three) stories that prove this to be especially true. For the sanity of my friend, I will leave the third out. All these stories have one thing in common. They all take place in the restaurant which my friend’s family happens to own.

For a couple months over the summer I had a bit of a scandalous romance. After visiting a hang out locals refer to as “the beach,” my friends  and I went to go grab a bite to eat at her restaurant.  Upon arriving, the first thing out of her mothers mouth is about meeting my friend’s new body guard. Shortly after that, a large college student who was probably around six foot five inches walks up to us. He was quiet and definitely not the kind of person you wanted to piss off. Her mother then sat down with us at lunch and decided to have a very loud and very passionate conversation about random  terms I haven’t even heard of. Although I am used to the randomness that occurs in the lives of my close friends and I, I forgot that my  man lover may not be accustomed to such unique conversation. The look on his face turned from happy complacency into horrified confusion about what me might be getting himself into by associating with me.

Before parting ways that day, he whipped out a guitar and started to serenade me right there, in my friends driveway. Up until that point, it was possibly the most romantic and honestly awkward moment of my life. To make it more awkward for me, he didn’t stop with the romance after playing. He then proceeded to kiss me on the lips, right there and then. He did not even give me the chance to lean in. He just went for it all the way. You have no idea the shock which came over me. My friend hasn’t stopped giving me an extremely hard time about that ever since, and is likely never going to stop. She was just standing there… watching all this take place.

Last night, I was up late talking with my friend and her brother about our individual love lives. After being thoroughly questioned about my recent lack of activity in this subject, my friend’s brother went on to suggest that there was a very cute guy that worked at their restaurant. According to her brother he, was a ” bad ass, so he would be just my type.” He also proceeded to tease me about my summer fling. If you can’t tell, my love life can be a bit of a popular roller coaster. Unfortunately this guy had a serious girl friend, as we were about to find out the next day.

So, back to the 2nd story. As we were ordering food, my friend pointed out a waiter to me. In fact, this was the very same waiter which her brother had wanted me to get together with. I turned slightly pink as my friend’s mother ( and owner of the restaurant)  called him over. On the side of his neck was a giant purple hickey. Turns out I wasn’t the only person to spot it. My friends mother, upon seeing the hickey, had a burst of  laughter before she started to drill him about his recent relationships. He admitted that he was dating the girl who had originally came to serve us juice. It has quickly became apparent who had given him the hickey.  What happened next was a scene out of your favorite comedy show.

I felt so bad for the poor fellow who was standing before us at that very moment.  Before any one else knew it, my friend’s mother had also called his girlfriend over and not-so- politely informed them that it was against company policy to date co-workers. Therefore, she was starting to decide which one she would fire upon their break up.  Both their faces seemed to drain of color upon hearing those words

.He came up with a lame attempt to pass off the hickey as a scruple marker stain. She then proceeded to try and convince him that she would have to give the guy a make over in order to hide that hickey with a little concealer.  The teasing was endless. No matter how much I wanted to look away at the train wreck happening right before my eyes,  it was just too funny. What she did was not uncalled for, but it was certainly mean. Before you knew it, people from other tables were going quiet in order to listen to the show. The rising laughter in the room was accompanied by an increase of volume in the conversation at my table. Soon, the whole conversation was being broadcast to the entire restaurant.

Although I may be single as a Pringle at the moment, I luckily get to enjoy the relationship drama of others while reflecting on my own past situations.

organized chaos

As a few of my followers might know, I not only run a blog but a newsroom as well. My job as Editor In Chief is to create organization among the chaos. The last time I left my staff alone for two days, they started to riot and throw a rebellion before nearly setting a few computers on fire.

My decision to become a journalist was partially due to the fact the media allows you to cut through all types of cliques to find a common purpose. On my staff this phenomenon is particularly true. Every single person brings a new dynamic to the group. The single trait which unites us unanimously is our eccentricity and ambition. Upon first sight, there have never been a group of young adults more diverse.

But upon closer inspection it becomes clear we couldn’t be closer. If anything, we are so close that we cause mental damage to any onlookers that dare enter our newsroom. The last outsider that decided to sit in on one of our meetings needed therapy. I’m not kidding….

Still, we should be given an award for diversity of political views and backgrounds. One staff member happens to amazing with technology but has difficulty with social interaction. The girl next to him happens to be the future captain of the cheer team. At the desk across the room lies the state champion rodeo queen. Next to her is a nationally ranked  photographer, also a member of the White House Press Corps. Our resident satire writer can go weeks without speaking a single word. Yet, when he does speak, the words which flow from his mouth are enough to move mountains with their impact (or shock factor really).

As you can imagine, the diversity in the newsroom leads to plenty of chaos and a decent amount of entertainment. Since my staff is like family. Its literally quite possible I spend more time with these weirdos then my own family. Because we are so familiar with each other, filters in conversation are rarely used.  Today as I walked into the  lab, my opinions editor had taken the liberty of starting a lively conversation about baby sloths and bi-gender Asians (supplemented with pictures broadcast on the overhead) right before we transitioned into coverage about the recent challenges to freedom of press. For a full functioning newsroom, I can’t exactly say that we pull off “serious” very well.

To be entirely honest, the humor of sticoms like the “Big Bang Theory” are dull compared to the shenanigans my staff and I embark upon.

A day in the life of a ski bum

Today, I hit the Colorado slopes and decided to learn how to snowboard. After all the bruises and possible concussion, I guess you could say it was an awesome day.

Since it was my first time on the slopes I decided to take lessons. When we formed our groups I quickly discovered I would be spending the rest of the day with seven other people. All of them ( including the instructor) happened to be men in their  twenties.

The teacher of the class was easily the coolest stoner I have ever met. For  reasons he will be left unnamed ( mostly because I think I saw him take weed from his friend at the end of the lesson, but still…) .He was a really talkative guy. Fortunately, it wasn’t the annoying type of endless chatter, but rather the kind which made the group comfortable and  allowed everyone to kinda be themselves. His easy going attitude made the class feel like a judgment free zone. Which, let me tell you, was a huge relief considering the amount of times I managed to face-plant strait into the unforgiving snow. Even when I nearly fell of the chairlift, still no judgment. Thanks to him, I was gliding down the mountain like a pro by the end of the lesson.

It turns out he recently attended the college which I have my eye set on for next year, with the exact same major. I mean, he did manage to drop out…. but still. It was pretty cool to hear a real student perspective.

Still, just because my group did not judge doesn’t mean that others held to the same standard…. On my second run off the ski lift, I fell. Randomly some little 6 year old kid skied up to me  and said in the sassiest tone possible “Hurts Doesn’t it..?”  before skiing off like a little freaking pro.  There I sat in the snow laughing my butt off! Who did that kid think he was? I did not know kids were capable of packing that much sass into three words.  I learn something new every day.

I look forward to heading up to the mountains again and hitting the slopes  soon. After years of wanting to start snowboarding I finally took the fist step. If I’d known it was this easy all along, I would have gone ages ago.

People are weird.

People are entertaining, plain and simple. Out of my many hobbies and projects people watching is simply one of my favorite.  There is rarely something more interesting then sitting in a public place and surveying all that goes on around you.

While waiting for my  ride today, I decided to go and grab a drink at a nearby Starbucks. Sitting in my little corner clutching my hot Creme Brulee Mocha, I glanced around to lock sight on a (honestly quite attractive… but probably gay) teenager.

His hipster glasses, which  framed his sharp jawline, sat crooked  on his face. His black hair looked slick with gel.  The look on his face told onlookers that he was completely enthralled in his book. To my amusement he was reading Alice in Wonderland. It was the exact same Barnes and Nobles- classic literature edition which I have sitting next to me on my desk at this very moment. Tell me, what strait man reads Alice in Wonderland in publicon purpose? He was pretty fruity if you ask me, not that there is anything wrong with that of course! Unfortunately, just not my type.

Across the room, a group of overly giggly teenage girls worked collectively on a psychology project. Their matching infinity scarves, UGG Boots, and serious use of the word “yolo” helped me to place them in early high school.

At the table next to me, sat the most adorable old couple I have ever seen. They were holding hands as they looked out the window at the busy street.  I overheard them reminisce back to their honeymoon in Florida. I guessed it may have been their wedding anniversary. As the  couple got up to leave, the elderly man leaned over to his wife whispering a few phrases. Although most of it was too quiet for me to hear, I managed to catch him say to her “… and you are just as beautiful as the day we married.” There, at that moment…in that specific Starbucks, my heart melted into a little puddle of mushy cuteness overload. Although I am usually able to keep quiet as I eavesdrop, a little bit of the “AWWW” that echoed around my head must have escaped my lips.  The couple turned in my direction and shot me an extremely sassy look that said, ” Yeah. We are the cutest old couple you’ve ever seen, huh?” It was literally a scene from your favorite romantic comedy.

I may not know where my future will take me, but at the end of the day (after the youthful side of me has had its fun) I aspire to have a relationship like that couple. Although you might think people watching is purely about others, you might be surprised how much deep shit you dig up about yourself in the end.

The Real Twilight Zone

Last summer, my family and I were traveling and decided to stop in a small town  for the night. Tired, we drove into the parking lot of a well-known hotel chain hoping they had a room available. They did. At first it seemed  like a quiet little town with pleasant locals.  Almost too pleasant. The town was  remote so the service on our cellphones was limited.

Before settling in for the night, we decided to stop by a local grill for some dinner. This is when things began to get weird. Opening the door, laughter and the sound of happy conversation echoed through the restaurant.  But the moment we asked to be seated the entire restaurant froze, going dead silent as the waiter escorted us to our seats. Every eye in the room followed us with a dead stare as we proceeded to sit down.

Until that moment, I did not think it was possible to consume food that fast. Although the silence started to fade as new locals entered the restaurant, the atmosphere was still eerie. The locals had an unusual accent which I couldn’t quite place.  My parents and I exchanged awkward glances as we quickly paid and exited the restaurant. Clearly, this town wasn’t used to outsiders.

On our way back to the hotel we attempted to get gas from the ONLY gas station in town….. Turns out, they ran out of gas. Even until present, this still strikes me as odd.

The next morning we woke up at nearly half past four AM to discover yet another set of surprises.  The power had gone out. At first we thought it may have been an issue with our room or even just floor. But no,after a quick trip to the front desk we discovered the entire town had suddenly gone off grid.  As we looked out the window of our room and onto the barren landscape of the American southwest. Things like spotlights, billboards, and streetlights that  would normally be lit were completely dark. The light from the moon and stars reflected dimly on the pavement. Tired, and honestly still road weary, we returned to bed until daylight.

Upon waking, we packed up and left as soon as we could. On the road in the town, there was not a car nor person to be seen. It was almost as if the population of the town had disappeared. The only sound which could be heard outside was the howl of the  dusty wind. Not an animal or insect stirred. I had never felt so removed from society. It was almost as if my family and I were transported to another planet. Shivers ran through my body as an irrational part of me feared we may never find our way out of that town. Something about it was wrong. So very wrong. It is a hard feeling to describe. Possibly it was a combination of the extraneous circumstances and bad timing. Either way, it was time to leave

Even to this day, a part of me wonders if this town really exists. Although my family was present for this little adventure, t it has somehow been cleverly avoided in conversation as an unexplained phenomenon.

“You are traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. Your next stop, the Twilight Zone!”

Case of the missing goldfish

Poor Squishy. You’d think it would be a difficult feat to lose a goldfish. Goldfish shouldn’t disappear out of mid air. Still, that is exactly how I managed to lose my pet goldfish. Instead of having a proper toilet bowl burial, he vanished even before I was able to bring him home and let him live out  his long life… staring blankly into my blue bedroom wall.

My story starts on a Friday during my Senior year of high school. The brisk chill of teen spirit and rebellion rushed down the hallways as the temptation of freedom neared, since winter break was almost upon us.

My lovely brunette friend was sweet enough to bring her friends a surprise Christmas present that day.  As I closed my eyes she placed a small container in my hand, it felt like a jar. Curious, I opened my eyes to see that the jar contained a shimmery little goldfish. At lunch my friends joked( ironically) that I would be the first to kill mine. My friends had such strong faith in me. Dawww shucks guy, thank you.

Later that day I headed to gym class where my poor little Squishy would go MIA.  I set  him on a ledge by the athletic office to keep him out of the dodge ball crossfire. They say if you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball. I assumed that this would also work for mason jars full of goldfish, but I decided not to test the theory.

When I went to go fetch him  after class, he had disappeared. To my astonishment, he was no where to be seen.  I automatically broke down on my knees and began to loudly weep, mourning the brave fish who was taken from me.. never to be seen again. That’s what people are supposed to do right? …..hysterically mourn their lost pet fish in public? Totally.

Although I have never totally gotten over the loss of my dear pet fish, I learned many life lessons out of this experience. Fish are a lot like kids in the sense that….

1)  I should never have any

2) Both should not be left unattended in public.