I Made It! (Part II)

I made it to Roma!! It got hairy there for a spell when I was racing to make my connection in Paris (after Germany, before Rome), I honestly thought I wasn't going to make it. Apparently the French think it is necessary for everyone to go through security right in front of their gate instead of one collective security point. So even though I had already been through security in Germany, I had to go through it a second time in France and I almost missed my plane because of it. But it all worked out - va bene!

Once I arrived in Rome, I collected my bag (yay!) and headed for the signs that said "Nothing to Declare". This took me directly out of the terminal, where all the cabbies are. So much for customs! (Don't worry, technically I went through customs in Germany, so I'm okay - you can unpucker your butts.) I grabbed a taxi, paid way too much for it (ah well - it was bound to happen) and arrived safely at the hotel. When I knocked on our room door I met the first of my two traveling companions: Micall. She is the friend of my friend whom I was meeting (Amy). But as it turned out, Amy had a delayed flight from Seattle to Newark and she did miss her connection! So Micall and I headed out for dinner (as it was now almost 7:00pm) and then back to the room to wait for Amy.

On our way out, we met two gals from New York who decided to join us for some vino while we ate. They were thankful for English speakers and we were thankful for the company, the more the merrier! Dinner was good, but nothing to brag about just yet (although, certainly nothing to complain about either). After a few glasses of monte pulciano (which I'm happy to report was considerably better than your home-brew Dustin - heh) , we headed back to the room and learned that Amy wasn't going to make it in until midnight :( So Micall and I made plans to see the Vatican first thing in the morning and called it a night.

Above are a couple pics of our room; it's not much, but we have our own bathroom (a major perk) The little red bed is mine!!

*Sidenote: On the last Sunday of the month, the Vatican is free...so guess who got to tour 4 miles of incredible art today for the low, low cost of 0 EU?? That's right, baby! Stay tuned!

I Made It! (Part I)

I was unable to connect to the internet while at the airport in Munich, so this first part was written Saturday morning:

My flight from Chicago to Munich turned out to be a breeze. Thanks to my dad’s bonus points, I was able to make the 7 hour flight in first class, baby. That meant that I not only had my own movie selection to choose from (and personal screen from which to watch it), but I was able to order my meals from a menu (and dictate when I ate them) and, most importantly, to lean back, put my feet up, and recline my way over the big blue ocean. It was pretty fantastic. If you have the means, I highly recommend flying first class – such a different experience. Sidenote: As it turns out I was the only first class passenger, can you believe that? There were 10 seats total and I was the only one. It was kind of weird…made me feel like a snooty aristocrat who doesn’t want “others” around. Ha-ha. So to say I got personal, attentive service is an understatement.

Despite all the perks, I’m proud to say I only indulged in one movie on the flight (it helped I had already seen most of the selections) and was actually able to get in about 5 hours of sleep. That sounds really crappy, but it was actually great. As I wait for my next flight, I feel well rested and ready for what’s ahead. As I write this, it’s 11:00am in Germany and it doesn’t feel too far off.

So as I sit here typing this, a middle-aged man (clearly German) has sat down at the table across from me and is arranging his belongings. When he first came over, I noted the enormous stein of beer he set down, but didn’t think much of it. (I mean, hey, I’m in Germany; it’s too be expected, right?) But it has just occurred to me that it is 11:00 in the freaking morning!! Kinda early for a brew, don’t ya think?! So I quickly glanced around and have noted that several people are drinking already. Hmm…not sure if this is an airport thing, or a German thing. Perhaps both?

One Leg Down, Two to Go

Alright blog fans, I have officially begun my sojourn and there is no looking back.

The first leg of my trip has been 100% successful and I am currently holed away in the first class international lounge (thank you so much Dad!!) in Chicago, enjoying free perks ranging from coronas by the bottle to fresh cheesecake. In fact, this post is coming to you via free internet courtesy of United Airlines. Woo hoo! The first class really know how to travel in style; I have a feeling I'm going to come home a few pounds heavier...(but that is what all the walking is for, right?)

In any case, the next leg of the trip is the long one - going straight through to Munich. I'm going to attempt to resist the offers of free movies and catch some shut-eye. (The fact that I got about an hour of sleep last night should make that easier...but I'm just so easily distracted! There is really no guarantee.) After I arrive in Munich I'll wait out my last layover and then board my final plane of the day, to Rome. I'm scheduled to arrive at 4:30pm local time (which to all of you in the Pacific NW, that will be 7:30am Saturday morning). So while you are all cozy in your beddies, I'll still be wearing what I wore the day before and really ready to brush my teeth.

Despite the fact that I am sitting in an airport lounge right now, I still don't think the fullness of what I am doing has hit me (or my second free beer). I can already tell this trip is going to be chock-full of personal growth. I hope I'm ready for this...

Two hours and counting until my next boarding call. I'll be sure to check in and let you know when I've arrived in Rome!

Anker Cafe

If you haven't been to the Anker Cafe, you should really check it out. They took over the old Fantasia space on Cornwall Ave downtown. And not only is it totally organic (meaning grass roots and cool, not media-culture "organic") and earthy, but the food is completely yum-o. They regularly serve Pure Bliss desserts and let me tell you: they are most appropriately named. (Everything in the case tastes even better than it looks; trust me, I know the owner.)

And as if this weren't enough, the owners (the Ankers) are totally rad. They'll hook you up with their free wireless internet (just ask), they frequently have live music goin' on, and the chill atmosphere and funky art on the walls is enough to make anyone want to write a sonnet.

Not to mention that Bill (one of the owners) is absolutely creative out the wa-zoo. Not only does he make some of the most fantastic soups I've ever had the occasion to taste, but he is all about the finishing touches. I ordered a nanamo (nanimo? na-noo na-noo?) bar with my tea and not only did he fancy-pants-chocolate-up my plate before serving it to me (insert Homer Simpson-esque drooling noise here), but he also busted out that frickin' awesome anchor you see in the drink pictured above.

Now to be fair, he did that to Erin's drink and not mine, but still: rad-tacular! It was the final touch to what he calls the Bazooka Breve. (Or something like that. Upon reflection, that might not be right....but it wasn't my drink, so other than the über cool anchor, I wasn't really paying that much attention.) In any case, it is a drink of his own invention that included espresso, chocolate, caramel and half & half. What could be bad about that?

If you have the chance, you should stop by and pay them a visit. They're working hard for the money, so you'd better treat them right ;)

Trip Update - T-Minus 5 Days (and Counting...)

Good news. In the kind of freak coincidence that couldn't have possibly be predicted, my RA from freshman year of college randomly contacted me out of the blue and we discovered that we are both headed for Italy on the exact same day. (Insert Joey from Blossom style Whoa! here.)

Obviously we will be meeting up soon after we land and spending the first couple of days together (praise the Lord for answered prayer!) in Roma. However, she is also traveling with another friend from college, so I'm not sure how long I will (get to) tag along with them; but I'm absolutely stoked that as I land on a different continent for the first time, I won't be completely alone. So far, this couldn't be going any better. (Didja see that sky today? Talk about blue.)

HOLY CRAP - I leave in less than one week. Eke! How is this happening!?

Practice Makes Perfect

Since I'm going to be spending quite a bit of quality time with my bad self in these coming weeks, I decided it was a good idea to practice being alone in public places. In my every day life, I don't have occasion to do this very often. So I've been taking myself to lunch and planting myself right in the middle of life just to see what happens.

And you know what? It's not that bad.

I know it's typically the American nightmare to eat lunch in a public place by oneself, but it has been a liberating experience. I'll tell you one thing: it makes you infinitesimally more approachable. People talk to you all the time. I don't know if it's pity because they think you don't have any friends, or if it's simply because the opportunity is always there (as there is no ongoing conversation to interrupt), but it's true. Plus, it affords you the opportunity to do some serious Jason Bourne-esqe people watching. I've decided my favorite new game is to try and figure out how groups of people know one another. Are they family? Co-workers? Is it a date? Girls night out? The possibilities are endless, really.

In any case, I've found the occasional meal alone or a date with yourself to a movie is a great self-growth opportunity. It puts you outside your box and exposes just how comfortable you are with You. If you haven't done it lately, take yourself out on a date. I guarantee you'll enjoy the company.

Last Ditch Effort

First of all, this is just the most beautiful beer. How can a person not love Guinness? I just don't get it. But that's another post for another day.

Quiz Night - round 4. I'm not going to lie to you: I was feelin' the mojo. We finally had a semi-consistent team together, we had a few practice rounds under our belts, it was my final try...yeah, I was feelin' the mojo. Maybe not first place ('cause WOW do you have to be good for that), but perhaps 2nd or 3rd. That would represent a significant improvement; certainly, a victory.

We took our customary seats at the bar and prepared ourselves - this was going to be the night. We had been studying. Andi had been listening to NPR for hours on end. This: was it.

The quiz was handed out and the first half topics looked o-kay. Not great, but do-able. Too bad after all 25 questions had been read, we still had our eyebrows permanently raised in a wtf?? expression. Hmm, my mojo-meter isn't usually that far off. Probably just a temporary glitch. The second-half results came out and the quiz master announced a new low: 2 questions right out of 25. O Lord, please don't let that be us!!

Fortunately we were spared that particular embarrassment. In fact, as he continued reading team names, it slowly dawned on us, we were near the top. Turns out the first half of the quiz had been hard for everyone. Yesss! We had only gotten 7 correct, but only a couple teams placed ahead of us. Definitely withing clawing distance. That's right baby: mojo.

Second half was distributed and this looked much better. Right up our alley. In fact, we were quite confident about almost all our answers. Looks like my mojo-meter might have been right! We handed in our quiz and drank our "spirits", confident of success. Soon all the quiz answers were read and our fate was announced. Unfortunately for us, much of the bar had the same mojo with the second half as we did. Humph. When all was said and done, we didn't place at all, but finished in the middle of the pack. Guess my mojo-meter needs a little fine tuning...

In any case, it was a fun endeavor. I'm glad we did it and had a blast snickering and inventing fake answeres with my team. Thanks friends, you're a wealth of irrelevant knowledge!!

Boleyns, Bikes, & Babes

For our second annual women's book club retreat, we packed our bags, racked our bikes and trekked up north to the wonderful land of Canadia (eh?) in search of a little intellectual book talk, some sweet mountain biking trails, and a bit of self-indulgent chick-flick watching, nail-painting, gluttonous napping, needless snacking, wreckless dancing, girly kind of weekend.

And we accomplished just that.

We began our estrogen weekend by watching (and by "watching" I mean, constantly interrupting the movie to point out how it was wrong-I mean-different from the book) The Other Boley Girl. This was actually a great way to get our book talk going. But it had been a long drive and the evening soon caught up with us and we were off to bed.

Saturday followed with a morning of uninhibited sleeping in and good eats. After breakfast we suited up and hit the trails. Now, in my humble opinion, one of the best things about Whistler is that it has so many practice parks. Theses are basically small areas dedicated to man-made obsticles that require skill, balance, & sometimes (usually) guts. What you'll find in a practice park ranges from teeter-totters and ladders to narrow logs and drops. At home, the only way to practice obsticle like these is to ride the trail over and over (and over...). And if you've ever had to climb Galbraith mountain, you know it's something you want to limit to once a day. So having so many fun challenges right at your fingertips...heaven!

After several runs through a couple different parks, we finally hit the trails. Our first trail was a technical up hill trail. (Wait for it...wait for it...) Booo! That's hard work man! Fortunately we all made it and earned a snack and a breather. After the photo opp, it was time for the fun: heading back down! We came away with a few bruises, a bit of healthy dirt, and a couple spills, but all in all - it was a great ride.

Back at the condo we promptly maowed (yes, maowed) our way through thousands of calories for lunch, then promptly vegged out through two movies back-to-back. (Insert naps, showers, and nail-painting here.) So. Much. Awesome.

We decided to cap off our night (and weekend) with a little dancin' at one of the Whistler Village clubs. I wouldn't say it was exactly a hoppin' joint, but we made it work. The DJ was pretty good and even played our requests. I'll just say when "You Spin Me Right Round" came on, I was a happy camper.

Fun times women. I can hardly wait to do it next year. :)

An Unexpected Comrade

Now that I'm full boar unemployed, and I've got (and I use this term loosely) a little extra time on my hands, I decided to establish a good habit before my trip and spend some legitimate time reading my bible (instead of the sporadic psalm or "hello" prayer I had previously been getting by on). Needless to say, having the freedom to set my own schedule and begin my day at my own time and at my own pace has been tremendously helpful in what had previously been only a lofty pursuit.

Anyway, all that to say, I decided to crack open the O.T. and catch up on the Israelites' history. So I began reading in 1 Samuel, anxious to learn how the Israelites transitioned from a period of judges to a series of kings. The chapter naturally opens with Samuel's birth (the book being named after him and all). However, the story actually begins with his mother, Hannah. Now, I'm not gonna say I didn't know this story - but I didn't really know this story.

As it turns out, Hannah was one of two wives. And similar to Jacob's second wife Rachel, she too was the wife "more loved" by the husband but unable to have children. Except Hannah was not only barren; she was also regularly taunted by the other wife. In fact, the first wife would verbally abuse Hannah until she would cry and was unable to eat. As if it were not enough to have such a deep and genuine longing unfulfilled in your life, but to also have your rival pointing out your failure every opportunity? Augh! Verse 10 says, "She was very upset as she prayed to the Lord, and she was weeping uncontrollably." Can you imagine that? When I read that, my heart broke for this woman.

I don't know about you, but I have known that kind of longing. I have spent my share of time flat on my face and sobbing at the Lord's feet; it is no easy cross to bear. I cannot know what it is to feel barren, but I can know how her heart ached. I have been on those knees. I have cried those tears.

Which is precisely why as I read her story, it immediately evoked my emotions. Before I knew it, my eyes were brimming and my chest was filled with the uneven breath that often precedes a good cry. My heart knows this woman who lived and died centuries before I was born.

I got a hold of myself and continued to read. As it turns out, Hannah makes a promise to the Lord: if he will give her a child, she will dedicate that child back to him. The Lord grants her request and she becomes pregnant. (Now this is what really gets me...) When he is old enough, she takes him to the temple and hands him over to the priest. She gives him fully to the Lord and to his work. He is no longer her child, but God's.

Woooow. To want something so badly, get it, and then give it back up....this woman possesses a strength I can only hope to attain. Her faithfulness brought me to tears (I mean, I was already a little emotional, but that just shoved me right on over the edge). What an underrated example of faith.

God of course blessed her silly after that. She has several more children and was able to visit Samuel annually as he grew in his faith. He is quickly annointed as a prophet and his story really begins to take off from that point as Israel prepares for change. But still. Hannah has simply astounded me. (I feel astounded.) I was touched by her story and compelled to share it with you.

Take heart, dear reader: the Lord knows your deepest longing, he is listening.

32 is the new 27

So, back in our early twenties, whenever Andi or I would see a cute, older boy, we'd ask one another, "How old do you think he is?"

(Which of course is girl-speak for, "Is he too old for me?")

To which the other would respectfully take a look, do a few small calculations in her head and then reply, "...27," with complete and unfounded confidence.

(Translated this means, "Older than us, but not too old. Definitely within the realm of possibility.")

However, seeing as I (the junior of the pair) just recently celebrated my 27th birthday, you can see the dilemma we are in: twenty-seven no longer represents a slightly older and mysterious, yet potentially attainable young man; it equals a peer. Thus we were forced to adjust the estimated age of our eye candy to 32.

So tonight when Andi asked me how old I thought Logan (the Irish pub bar tender) was, I immediately answered, "32." She screnched up her face, cocked her head to the side and turned that number over in her mind before saying, "Nah, I think he's 27." We had a good chuckle about our little joke and began gathering our things to leave. Just before we left, on an impulse, I waved Logan down and asked him how old he was. His reply?

27.

Oh, the irony.

Quiz Night - Part 3

We had more people and more right answers....but we still didn't come in first place, dangit!

However, tonight we made quite a few steps in the right direction: Not only did our team increase in number (from 3 to 5), but our team name improved as well (from AHA!, both an acronym for our three names as well as a nod to the band that brought us "Take On Me" to Heck Yeah Man!, which is better for obvious reasons), not to mention that our score was significantly more respectible. This time around, we totaled 26 points, a mere 9 behind first place. Plus, we got shafted on an M&M's question, as well as one of the whiskey questions. And I don't think anyone knows the names of ALL FIVE of Sarah Palin's kids so...booo!

Other than that, we had quite a bit of fun. And you know what else? The pretzels at Uisce's are FREE! I know, huh? (Super kewl.)

Only one week left to try and snag that first place...

My first day off

So on my first official day of being unemployed, I decided it was appropriate to go and get a pedicure at my favorite place in town. I hunkered down in my massage chair, began reading my book and soaking my feet, when the cute little Asian dude said:

"You have day off from work?"

To which I replied, "Yes...yes, I do."

And I thought to myself, "You have no idea..."

Speaking Italiano

Learning a new language is a funny thing.  At first, it is completely overwhelming.  It's like staring at the jumbled mess of an unassembled 10,000 piece puzzle.  You know that with some dedicated time and study, you're going make sense of what pieces go where and inevitably, the whole picture will come together with surprising clarity.  But you also know that that moment is hours upon hours away. 

So, as with any large and foreboding task, all you can do is take a deep breath and get started.   But then an interesting thing happens.  As you begin to acquaint yourself with the pieces and as the task of sorting the pieces (a noun here, a conjugated verb there) becomes easier and easier, a sense of optimism overtakes you.  Suddenly your original assessment of several hours seem ludicrous.  What were you thinking!?  You forgot you have a secret natural ability that makes you great at all things!  In fact, you'll probably be done in a matter of minutes, not hours!

Then the pendulum swings back and reality sets in.  Sure, you'll have a good idea of what the picture looks like, and you even know generally where most of the pieces go...however, there is no quick method to determining precisely which direction every individual piece will lay.  It just takes time and experience.  

*Sigh* 

So, that's how the Italian is going....

I hear that a lot...

So one of the fun advantages of wreaking total havoc on your life is that you always have something to talk about. Meeting somebody for the first time? No problem. Talking to a stranger at the store? Easy-peasy. Chatting it up with awkward/lingering co-workers? Piece of cake. Your life is suddenly ripe with topics of conversation with seemingly endless segues into useful tid-bits of travel recomendations (or warnings) as well as fodder for stories (upon stories) of travel nightmares.

But surprisingly, the piece of information I hear the most (and that I know the least what to do with) is this: Italian men are really aggressive.

So, does this mean I should avoid prolonged eye-contact with all men while I'm in Italy? Should I take an Italian focused self-defense class? Should I feign a language barrier difficulty if one should (God forbid) ask me to hang out? I realize this is silly, but at the heart of it is an honest question: What is the "making friends" protocol for a young woman while traveling in a foreign country? Because, let's be honest - I'm not going eight weeks without making new friends*. I'm too darn social; I'd probably go insane. So how much caution is truly necessary? What are realistic boundaries for a single travler looking to both meet people and stay safe?

I welcome your thoughts, dear travelers.

*I don't mean to imply that all "new friends" will be men per se, but it's a 50/50 chance, so you know what I mean.

Quiz Night - Round 2

If you're anything like me, then you would've expected that the second attempt at quiz night would merit a marked improvement.

Yeah, not so much.

Turns out my two quiz partners were: a) sick and b) an hour late. Therefore I was left to fend for myself and tackle our first official quiz night on my own (which surprisingly, actually drew a fair amount of attention in and of itself). And I don't know about you, but for me, quizzes are significantly easier when you can bounce your ideas off of other people. Or brainstorm together. Or when someone else in your team already knows the answer. As I was working by myself, I had none of these weapons in my arsenal. And let me tell you: I may think I know lots of stuff, but it turns out all I really know are random movie quotes and song titles. And that knowledge was not particularly helpful in the first half of the quiz which featured sections like: In the News, Butterflies, & Calendars. I was a disaster.

Fortunately for me, the super nice (not to mention adorable) bar tender took pity on me and helped me out with a few answers. Even with his help, I still only managed a puny 9 correct answers out of 25. This was enough for dead last. And yes, they read the team rankings aloud during the half time. D'oh!

Fortunately for me two key things happened next. 1.) Andi arrived (two heads are better...) and 2.) Two of the second half quiz questions dealt with music (one of these was
Canadian pop music, but still...). Yesssss! As you might have expected, we did significantly better on the second half. In fact, we did so well, we were actually able to sneak ahead and take first place by one point!!

Okay, that was a lie.

But. We did come up with quite a few correct answers in the second half and ended with a much more respectable score. And hey, we had a great time all the while. (Which was the point.) Plus, I mean, I made friends with the cute bar tender and I learned that uisce is Irish for water*, what more could I possible need for next week?

*Huh, surprised you didn't know that.