While I wait for pumpkin bread to bake and chili to cook (our apartment smells delicious, by the way), I figured I'd use this time wisely and correct the monstrosity that was X-Files: I Want to Believe. For those who don't know, The X-Files was the best show ever made. Never mind that rewatching episodes makes me giggle a little bit at HOW obsessed I was, but seriously, it's still the best. And never mind that Scully was actually super annoying and overly-skeptical. As a scientist, don't you think she'd notice the statistics of how Mulder was right 100% of the time every time of every moment in time?
Now that I've emphasized the greatness of the show, let me also say how I don't include anything after Season 7 in the true story of The X-Files. For one, Mulder was barely in the show after Season 7 and the last movie, as I've stated, was as if they took the bold epic heroism of Mulder and Scully, skinned them, put them on some lame marionette puppets and then had them sit in a sterile hospital waiting room for two hours. Something like that. It was just laziness. For instance, Scully decides to basically invent a cancer surgery for some patient (I didn't bother to remember the details) and where does she begin her research? GOOGLE. Really, Scully? Or should I say, really Chris Carter? GOOGLE?! You don't have to be a comp. teacher to know that if she was back at med school she'd be thrown out before the second O was typed.
Ok ok ok. I could rant more, but on to my point: I decided to fix this dilemma since I believe the greatness of The X-Files former glory can still be resurrected with some gentle prodding and actually awesome plot. Granted, I won't act like I'm about to create the best story ever. I'm just going to prove that in an hour, I can make up a MUCH better movie than that last one. There will be plot holes and stereotyped storytelling all over the place, but again, this is just to prove that an amateur blogger can make a more thrilling story that actually extends the story of Mulder and Scully instead of having them hiding out in some cabin in the woods for six years (as if Mulder would stay in the shadows for that long. Come on, people).
So, first, we'd start from the end of Season 9 (for the sake of time, I'll just act like the last two seasons were part of the true X-Files story). So, Mulder and Scully are finally reunited and fleeing to Mexico because the government is actually going to kill Mulder. They know that this epic alien attack is going to take place in 2012 (so why wouldn't the next movie BE ABOUT THE ALIEN ATTACK????). They're laying in a hotel room, like in the first episode, speculating on this attack. So that's where the series left off and here's where my correction of the next movie begins:
So Mulder and Scully wake up the next morning, realizing they'd had this CRAZY dream where they were in a crappy cabin six years in the future, realizing they were super lame, and decided to go back in time. Therefore, the problem of the second movie is erased. They wake up and spend the next six years solving paranormal cases in Mexico, on the sly of course, and finding allies along the way (Spanish Lone Gunmen, anyone????). Their Hispanic friends help them out, telling them about various crazy events, children turning into pinatas and, I don't know, tacos having the exact shape of Mexican leaders? Whatever, it doesn't matter because all of this will just be a brief snippet at the beginning of the movie to show the audience how awesome Mulder and Scully continued to be after the last night in that hotel and DIDN'T turn lame, hiding out for 6 years while Scully somehow worked in a hospital where no one knew that (duh) Mulder would be living in the EXACT SAME PLACE as she did, and Scully DIDN'T turn into a boring anti-investigator, telling Mulder "No, don't solve crimes. Let's just live quietly and not do anything ever."
So back to my story: after this montage of them solving cases in Mexico for the next six years, they continue to wait for the epic alien attack of 2012. Now, they don't know the official day, of course, so are just preparing for anytime that year. With the help of their Hispanic friends, they form a counterattack that they won't reveal until the end of the movie (I haven't thought of it yet...). So, one lovely summer day in some village on the coast of Ecuador, local fishermen notice abnormally large waves rolling under their boats. Speaking in Spanish (X-Files was great with subtitles instead of pretending everyone around the world speaks English), the fishermen are like, "What's that? What's going on?" and then BAM, lights and noises and chaos erupt. The boats are engulfed in a massive water storm of chaos. The audience has no idea what's going on, but you hear broken Spanish of "What IS that?" and "Hold on!" I don't know. Just regular sci-fi reactions to crazy crap.
The screen pans back to Mulder and Scully, three days later, riding in the back of a pick-up truck with sunglasses. The truck stops at a gas station where they hear frantic women talk next to them at the pump. Mulder awesomely jumps over the rail of the truck bed, asking the women what the problem is. He's, of course, fluent in Spanish now. They tell him about the Ecuador fiasco, leading him to walk into the gas station, seeing a news clip (also subtitled) of a reporter, trying to look unafraid, telling about the odd events in the fishing village. Knowing what's going on, Mulder runs out of the shop, yelling at Scully to contact the others. She whips out a sweet cellphone and calls up their Spanish Lone Gunmen.
Blah Blah Blah, they spend the next half hour figuring out how to connect the dots between ever-increasing attacks across the globe (the Ecuador event was just the beginning...ooooooo). They figure out, after this half-hour of intense investigation, that the aliens are attacking small villages first to avoid immediate reaction from the humans. They've also seen Independence Day where the aliens made the mistake of attacking large cities first. So, not only are they attacking small villages, but they're attacking small coastal villages. And not only are they attacking small coastal villages, but they're attacking small coastal villages in an elaborate, but identifiable zigzag pattern that Mulder has elaborately marked with push pins on a map in he and Scully's straw hut.
So now they know the next location of the aliens attack: Playa Gaviota, Argentina (I used Scully's model of scholarship and Googled "Argentina", zooming in on small villages). "But we don't even know exactly who or what we're fighting with," Scully rightly protests.
"We never have before," Mulder responds with a devilish grin that makes the audience grin because now they're thinking about the TV series and how they're also in on the fairly lame connection to Mulder and Scully's FBI past.
Scully and Mulder then hitch a ride down to Argentina, along with their new Lone Gunmen, and whatever secret plan we don't know about yet (seriously, I don't know it). When they get there, they have no idea how long until the attack or what they'll be looking at. From what they learned from TV reports, these "phenomena" happen on the water, so they warn everyone to avoid the shore (no one listens, except a darling little girl of about six who convinces her family to move farther inland. Will she come into play later on? I really don't know...).
Around three the next morning, Mulder awakes to a light trembling (he and Scully and their Lone Gunmen are sleeping in a hotel about a mile from the shore). Mulder wakes the others up and they all run outside to a brilliantly lit sky of rainbow colors, flashing and roaring. Amazed, they listen to the screams of those who didn't flee from the water's edge and run towards the sounds. The first person they find on the streets is an elderly man, clawing at his face, but nothing is on him. Another woman runs from behind him, clawing at the ground, scratching and screaming. Whatever, it's weird. Looking up, Scully yells that there's some kind of fog creeping from the bright-colored sky. Actually, the colors themselves are a fog, spreading toward them.
This is bad, obviously. So they all start to run and the fog of colors is nipping at their heels. They're not going to make it!!!!!!
But they make it and try to figure out what they just saw. Scully somehow deduces that the fog is emitted from rays that blah blah, science, blah. So they have to destroy the fog maker. Fortunately, their secret plan just might work. What is their secret plan? Crap......
Ok, so during the six years that Mulder and Scully roamed South America, they found a chemical in a pit, like, two miles below the earth. One of their contacts told them about this pit and that there was a foreign...something...that was never supposed to be uncovered. When they asked why it wasn't supposed to be found, they were told, "Because they know (they obviously meaning aliens) it will destroy them". So, whatever, they have this thing that can destroy them. We'll call it Netrablium. This sucks, I admit, but again, this is still better than the last movie, so go with it. No one knows how it will destroy the aliens, but they figure it out.
After they escape the fog, they continue to hear a distant buzzing, like bumblebees (a nice tribute to the first movie, I dare say). They follow the buzzing (why wouldn't they?) and see tubes creeping back into the water. The fog's now lifted and they follow the tubes. Mulder grabs the vial of Netrablium and, against Scully's logical warnings, he dives into the water and grabs one of the tubes. The tube pulls him almost a mile out into the sea until it jerks him under (don't worry, he gets a crazy big gulp of air that will last him an absurdly long time). With eyes open and magically unstung by the salt, he sees he's being pulled into a type of submarine, but more alien-looking. He's pulled under the sub and the camera zooms out to show just HOW alien-looking this thing is. Back on Mulder, we see him letting go of the tub and feeling his way around the equipment. Soon he finds a hatch and squeezes in side, taking as silent a gasp for air as he can.
So he's inside the underwater spaceship and prowls around. Blah blah, he finds the central area, throws the Netrablium in it, and the whole thing starts spazzing out. Aliens are shrieking and don't seem to have a backup plan for this sort of thing, so Mulder's the only one who gets out before the whole thing explodes or melts or whatever. He swims back to shore, gasping on the sand (he barely escaped the sub, so he's rightfully exhausted).
Mulder and Scully hug. It's emotional. The camera pans out and upward, and we see the sub dissolving into the water, knowing once again, our planetary health is due to our beloved agents.
BUT we have to have some hint that there will be another movie, so after the credits, we see some mystery person reading a newspaper with a headline like "Coastal Catastrophes out to Sea" or some lame pun implying there are no more alien disasters. The newspaper comes down and we see....THE SMOKING MAN...and he turns to a shadowy figure looming in the corner. He says, "We're going to have some explaining to do." The shadowy figure slowly walks into the light and we see....SKINNER. He says, "Yes. Yes, sir, we sure are."
So, again, not the best story ever, but I would gladly pay $9.25 to see this sucker opening night. So please, from the bottom of my heart, someone make this happen.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Oh, the Places We'll Go! Part 2
I'll sum up the rest of our trip this July....the next two days in Ireland, we went to Glendalough, a sweet hiking area in the Wicklow Mountains, and to County Cork where we kissed the Blarney Stone. Turns out the stone isn't actually for luck, but for the gift of eloquence/persuasion. Who knew? After gaining our rightful gift, we flew to Edinburgh from Cork on Ryan Air (of course, we got a picture of Ryan in front of the plane...and if you look carefully, he might look a little bulgy...that's because he's got on four shirts and a fleece to keep his backpack under regulation size).
It was getting dark when we got off the bus from the Edinburgh airport. Dark, cold and rainy. But how much better did that make it when we found our hostel? Not just any hostel, but a CATHEDRAL. For serious. It was a small cathedral renovated into a hostel. Like, they turned the sanctuary into two makeshift hallways with separate rooms. We were only in the hostel to sleep the next two nights, but it was still glorious. Our room's "roof" had a window at the top so we could see the stained glass sanctuary windows. A window through a window.
The next day we left crazy early to take a bus up to Loch Ness...we got there around noon and walked by the water, mostly just touring Inverness, a city along the lake. And did we find ol' Nessie? You better believe it. Turns out she turns herself into a bunch of swans and we got a picture of her transformation. She's quite the trickster. We spent part of the afternoon sitting by the lake, talking about where we saw ourselves in five years...turns out we don't know the future. Lame.
Around 6 we took the bus back to Edinburgh. It was a lot of driving for one day, but like the trains in Ireland, the scenery was well worth it. The next morning we got up at 4 AM. What? And somehow I was totally ok with that. We took an early train to Sheffield, England, where we met up with MARIEEEEEEE. She was getting her Masters there and we crashed in her flat. That day we walked around Sheffield and took a bus to the Peak District where we ate at a pub (Marie and I got a roast that was...freaking...delicious).
The next day we went into London after ANOTHER early morning (5 if I remember). Our first stop was Kings Cross to pose by the trolley outside the Hogwarts Express. Actually, the trolley isn't even between platforms 9 and 10. Super lame. It's just thrown by some random wall in the station. Guess most tourists don't want to pay to actually get into the station.
The next stop, after dropping our bags off somewhere, was St. Paul's. I'd been there before, but had never climbed up the the Whispering Gallery...a mere thousand steps up to the top of the dome where you get a crazy view of London. Back at the bottom, my leg would twitch when I leaned forward in just the right way. I thought it was the coolest thing ever, but Marie and Ryan didn't seemed impressed. Also at the bottom I paid to light a candle with a prayer for mom who just found out about her breast cancer, which I don't think I'd done before, but it really felt more sacred to pray that way.
We then went to see the Changing of the Guards at Buckingham where uniformed people yell at you to keep moving...keep moving...keep the sidewalk clear...come on, people, don't block the way.
And then it was Westminster Abbey. Another place I'd seen, but not fully. Before, I'd seen the outside, but the audio tour was well worth it. We struggled to find Marie after that, but eventually saw her flailing around Big Ben. After THAT we went to The British Museum to see The Rosetta Stone and surprising amounts of Egyptian stuff. There was also a Horse Exhibit with old arrow heads from 8,000 BC. Crazy. I don't know how to handle looking at stuff that old.
Before we left the museum, I messed with my camera to see if it was working again (I brilliantly washed it at Marie's, forgetting it was in one of my pockets). It was splotchy and blurry, but it worked! And throughout the trip, it eventually cleared up more.
Sadly, this was the time when we had to part with Marie. We said our farewells at the tube station. It was awful. I just didn't really think before then how SHORT it would be with her. She left for her train back to Sheffield and Ryan and I made it just in time to see The Mousetrap at St. Martin's Theatre.
We grabbed our bags after the show and took the tube to our hostel. It was around midnight by that point and it was so great to finally get to Hostel #8 and feel like we were coming to a home of sorts. We were cheap when we booked stuff, so stayed in a 21-person room...basically just rows of bunk beds and lockers. But for $10 a night, who cares?
London was still on our list the next day. We made it to The Globe and spent hours at The Tower of London and Tower Bridge. We saw the Crown Jewels and this is just amazing...to keep tourists from standing too long in front of the jewels and blocking everyone, you go on a moving walkway. That's just freaking genius. We took a river cruise back to the east side of London, which got interesting when the heavens themselves burst forth rain. It almost felt like a scene out of Titanic, people fleeing across the top of the boat to get into shelter.
The NEXT day we did a bus tour of Oxford, Windsor and Stonehenge. Super good thing we did a tour since buses/trains don't go very consistently between the three. And our tour guide was sweet...brown suit with a bowler hat and pipe. Interesting guy.
This was now Monday and our last night at #8 Hostel (no alcohol allowed...as they have their own bar). We left at 4:15 the next morning for a bus into London for another bus to Standsted Airport. For a cheap-o flight, they had the most intense screening ever. The lady emptied EVERYthing in my bag. Granted, I had liquids all over the place like a dummy. So this was our flight to Budapest. We had to end up on that side of Europe, so found this cheap-o flight to a country neither of us had been to before. We were only in Budapest about 6 hours, but walked around and ate this plate of potato/cheese/egg goodness with lemonade for just 3 euros. We took a bus that afternoon to Vienna, which we got off around 10 pm. When we got out onto the dark streets of Vienna....we realized we had no idea where to go from there. We had an address, but weren't seeing trains, so cheated at took a cab. But I'm glad we did because we met Mr. Cabdriver who had moved to Vienna from Africa several years ago and still didn't have good friends where he lived. Apparently Austria is beautiful, but not very friendly. So we gave him a good tip and I said I'd talk to everyone in Vienna, telling them to be nicer.
At our Vienna hostel, right away it was so different from the western European ones we'd been at. As in, it was QUIET. There was a girl sleeping across from me from Malaysia (or Mongolia?) who was really friendly, asking where we were going and seeming genuinely sad that we were only at the hostel until the morning.
So the next day we took a train to Salzburg, officially my favorite city ever. Vienna's great and all, but Salzburg is how I actually picture Austria...mountains and old buildings with copper-topped towers. And the apple streudels! Gah. And the hostel THERE was even better than Vienna's. It was a youth hostel, but NICE. Definitely the cleanest we'd seen. When I woke up the next morning, I just stared at the sun coming through the window, marveling at the epicness of our trip. But soon it was off to do more craziness. We rented bikes (apparently everywhere in Salzburg rents bikes) and rode to the Germany border so Ryan could say he'd been there. On the way back to the city, we stopped by different Sound of Music landmarks. The night before, we'd stopped by the fortress overlooking the city and Nonnberg Abbey (where I had an amazing wipe-out on the rain-covered cobblestones).
That night we took the train back to Vienna for one night back at the hostel with the nice Malaysian/Mongolian girl, except she wasn't there when we got back. We just crashed, charged up our camera and Ryan's beard trimmer, then woke up to meet our church group at the Vienna Airport. It was the strangest thing, seeing people we KNEW there. Sure, we'd seen Marie, but that already felt like ages ago. The next 11 days we were in Slovakia, teaching English at the KECY camp. For some reason, the second the camp started I lost pretty much all the gratuitous amounts of energy I'd had during our backpacking. Although, it didn't keep me from enjoying the Slovak campers and getting to know them.
I don't even know what all to write about camp. I spoke one of the nights, which was hard because I so wanted to express how I believe in a loving God even when everything seems chaotic and confusing. I think I communicated that, but it's hard to tell with the whole language barrier. What's more important, though, are the friendships. I really miss them and was sad when we left the city on a train for Prague.
We stayed in Prague for the next two nights with Dave and Angie, then flew home.
And that, my friends, is the summed up version of our trip!
It was getting dark when we got off the bus from the Edinburgh airport. Dark, cold and rainy. But how much better did that make it when we found our hostel? Not just any hostel, but a CATHEDRAL. For serious. It was a small cathedral renovated into a hostel. Like, they turned the sanctuary into two makeshift hallways with separate rooms. We were only in the hostel to sleep the next two nights, but it was still glorious. Our room's "roof" had a window at the top so we could see the stained glass sanctuary windows. A window through a window.
The next day we left crazy early to take a bus up to Loch Ness...we got there around noon and walked by the water, mostly just touring Inverness, a city along the lake. And did we find ol' Nessie? You better believe it. Turns out she turns herself into a bunch of swans and we got a picture of her transformation. She's quite the trickster. We spent part of the afternoon sitting by the lake, talking about where we saw ourselves in five years...turns out we don't know the future. Lame.
Around 6 we took the bus back to Edinburgh. It was a lot of driving for one day, but like the trains in Ireland, the scenery was well worth it. The next morning we got up at 4 AM. What? And somehow I was totally ok with that. We took an early train to Sheffield, England, where we met up with MARIEEEEEEE. She was getting her Masters there and we crashed in her flat. That day we walked around Sheffield and took a bus to the Peak District where we ate at a pub (Marie and I got a roast that was...freaking...delicious).
The next day we went into London after ANOTHER early morning (5 if I remember). Our first stop was Kings Cross to pose by the trolley outside the Hogwarts Express. Actually, the trolley isn't even between platforms 9 and 10. Super lame. It's just thrown by some random wall in the station. Guess most tourists don't want to pay to actually get into the station.
The next stop, after dropping our bags off somewhere, was St. Paul's. I'd been there before, but had never climbed up the the Whispering Gallery...a mere thousand steps up to the top of the dome where you get a crazy view of London. Back at the bottom, my leg would twitch when I leaned forward in just the right way. I thought it was the coolest thing ever, but Marie and Ryan didn't seemed impressed. Also at the bottom I paid to light a candle with a prayer for mom who just found out about her breast cancer, which I don't think I'd done before, but it really felt more sacred to pray that way.
We then went to see the Changing of the Guards at Buckingham where uniformed people yell at you to keep moving...keep moving...keep the sidewalk clear...come on, people, don't block the way.
And then it was Westminster Abbey. Another place I'd seen, but not fully. Before, I'd seen the outside, but the audio tour was well worth it. We struggled to find Marie after that, but eventually saw her flailing around Big Ben. After THAT we went to The British Museum to see The Rosetta Stone and surprising amounts of Egyptian stuff. There was also a Horse Exhibit with old arrow heads from 8,000 BC. Crazy. I don't know how to handle looking at stuff that old.
Before we left the museum, I messed with my camera to see if it was working again (I brilliantly washed it at Marie's, forgetting it was in one of my pockets). It was splotchy and blurry, but it worked! And throughout the trip, it eventually cleared up more.
Sadly, this was the time when we had to part with Marie. We said our farewells at the tube station. It was awful. I just didn't really think before then how SHORT it would be with her. She left for her train back to Sheffield and Ryan and I made it just in time to see The Mousetrap at St. Martin's Theatre.
We grabbed our bags after the show and took the tube to our hostel. It was around midnight by that point and it was so great to finally get to Hostel #8 and feel like we were coming to a home of sorts. We were cheap when we booked stuff, so stayed in a 21-person room...basically just rows of bunk beds and lockers. But for $10 a night, who cares?
London was still on our list the next day. We made it to The Globe and spent hours at The Tower of London and Tower Bridge. We saw the Crown Jewels and this is just amazing...to keep tourists from standing too long in front of the jewels and blocking everyone, you go on a moving walkway. That's just freaking genius. We took a river cruise back to the east side of London, which got interesting when the heavens themselves burst forth rain. It almost felt like a scene out of Titanic, people fleeing across the top of the boat to get into shelter.
The NEXT day we did a bus tour of Oxford, Windsor and Stonehenge. Super good thing we did a tour since buses/trains don't go very consistently between the three. And our tour guide was sweet...brown suit with a bowler hat and pipe. Interesting guy.
This was now Monday and our last night at #8 Hostel (no alcohol allowed...as they have their own bar). We left at 4:15 the next morning for a bus into London for another bus to Standsted Airport. For a cheap-o flight, they had the most intense screening ever. The lady emptied EVERYthing in my bag. Granted, I had liquids all over the place like a dummy. So this was our flight to Budapest. We had to end up on that side of Europe, so found this cheap-o flight to a country neither of us had been to before. We were only in Budapest about 6 hours, but walked around and ate this plate of potato/cheese/egg goodness with lemonade for just 3 euros. We took a bus that afternoon to Vienna, which we got off around 10 pm. When we got out onto the dark streets of Vienna....we realized we had no idea where to go from there. We had an address, but weren't seeing trains, so cheated at took a cab. But I'm glad we did because we met Mr. Cabdriver who had moved to Vienna from Africa several years ago and still didn't have good friends where he lived. Apparently Austria is beautiful, but not very friendly. So we gave him a good tip and I said I'd talk to everyone in Vienna, telling them to be nicer.
At our Vienna hostel, right away it was so different from the western European ones we'd been at. As in, it was QUIET. There was a girl sleeping across from me from Malaysia (or Mongolia?) who was really friendly, asking where we were going and seeming genuinely sad that we were only at the hostel until the morning.
So the next day we took a train to Salzburg, officially my favorite city ever. Vienna's great and all, but Salzburg is how I actually picture Austria...mountains and old buildings with copper-topped towers. And the apple streudels! Gah. And the hostel THERE was even better than Vienna's. It was a youth hostel, but NICE. Definitely the cleanest we'd seen. When I woke up the next morning, I just stared at the sun coming through the window, marveling at the epicness of our trip. But soon it was off to do more craziness. We rented bikes (apparently everywhere in Salzburg rents bikes) and rode to the Germany border so Ryan could say he'd been there. On the way back to the city, we stopped by different Sound of Music landmarks. The night before, we'd stopped by the fortress overlooking the city and Nonnberg Abbey (where I had an amazing wipe-out on the rain-covered cobblestones).
That night we took the train back to Vienna for one night back at the hostel with the nice Malaysian/Mongolian girl, except she wasn't there when we got back. We just crashed, charged up our camera and Ryan's beard trimmer, then woke up to meet our church group at the Vienna Airport. It was the strangest thing, seeing people we KNEW there. Sure, we'd seen Marie, but that already felt like ages ago. The next 11 days we were in Slovakia, teaching English at the KECY camp. For some reason, the second the camp started I lost pretty much all the gratuitous amounts of energy I'd had during our backpacking. Although, it didn't keep me from enjoying the Slovak campers and getting to know them.
I don't even know what all to write about camp. I spoke one of the nights, which was hard because I so wanted to express how I believe in a loving God even when everything seems chaotic and confusing. I think I communicated that, but it's hard to tell with the whole language barrier. What's more important, though, are the friendships. I really miss them and was sad when we left the city on a train for Prague.
We stayed in Prague for the next two nights with Dave and Angie, then flew home.
And that, my friends, is the summed up version of our trip!
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Oh, the Place We'll Go!
I've waited way too long to write a blog about Ryan's and my trip over July. So long, in fact, that any blog of real detail seems way to intense for a lazy writer such as myself. But, being a morbid person, I was thinking last night about if toward the end of my life, I had to sit by Ryan's side as he died (again, these are my regular thoughts...I think I've always been a downer at heart, but don't worry, there's a point to this), what would I talk about with him regarding our life together? Because, as I thought about this situation (a lot of it mirroring watching my grampa die last April), I am certain I would be talking to him. And what would I say? I would definitely talk about our wedding and our wedding night (probably not in detail, though, since I imagine some children and grandchildren standing around, too...by the way, I don't recommend thinking about this sort of thing right before sleeping in the dark), but I would also talk about the places we've gone.
I'm so thankful I married someone who loves to travel. Last year when we decided to be a part of the Slovakia English camp this summer, we were already planning to visit my friend Marie who studied in Sheffield, England, this past year. Then, when we actually looked at a calendar, we saw how closely these trips were to each other. Basically, we would be coming back from England late on a Sunday and leaving for Slovakia on a Thursday! So, being the spoiled traveler I am, I thought, "Hmmm....would we be able to just combine these trips? I mean, hey, it would actually SAVE money with all the flying back and forth taken out." And somehow this worked. We basically spent all of July in Europe.
We left July 30th from the FW airport the day after that monster storm ripped through the city and basically leveled Lake Avenue. I was worried the airport wouldn't be up and running, or at least wouldn't be running on time, by the next afternoon, but we had beautiful weather the next day and easily made our flight in O'Hare.
On Sept. 1st we landed in Dublin, Ireland, and walked around the city for a few hours, and took a nap in St. Stephen's Green (after dumping our crazy heavy backpacks off at an internet cafe, which apparently all internet cafes now double as luggage holders) before taking the DART to Greystones. The DART is a train that runs just north of Dublin down to Greystones where I lived in the spring of 2006, studying through Taylor Upland's program. To say the least, it was a soul-grabbing semester. Don't get me wrong, it didn't always feel amazing, but even the mundane parts of that semester, I believe, changed me for the better.
So taking the DART again was like riding a memory...way too sentimental, but I love that freaking train. It runs along the east coast of Ireland where there are small beaches and rocky hills. Bray is the last stop before Greystones and by that point, I was super impatient to just see Greystones already. Soon we were passing through the tunnels that go through the tall hills separating Bray and Greystones. When we pulled out of the last tunnel and I saw the coastline of Greystones, it didn't seem real. In fact, none of the time in Ireland seemed real. We walked out of the small train stop at Greystones and when I stepped onto the main street of the small town, I don't even know...it was like stepping out of a Stephen King time machine...so many people were just walking around and driving, as if nothing had changed in the last 6 years. In a way, I guess nothing had.
We walked down the main street, took a right after The Happy Pear, a brilliant smoothie store, and then a left on Trafalgar Rd. It was crazy walking down that road. I didn't remember it being that long before we got to Coolnagreina, the place where I lived. But we soon found it and, boy, has it changed! There's still the main building where I stayed, but now it's mostly just used for the dining room, rec room, etc. They built on a whole new building across the lawn. I'm so glad I stayed in the old building in '06. It's made of sweet stone and just looks Irish. It was cramped and creaky, but I love that building. Ryan and I stayed in the new building for the next three nights. It's a nice building and all that, but a little too nice. I personally love old buildings, so it was kinda sad to think future study groups won't be staying in that lovely old building anymore.
BUT the harbor that's literally 10 steps away is still gorgeous. I hadn't expected that since they renovated the whole thing a year or two after my semester there. It was so surreal, trying to skip rocks with Ryan at the harbor (he's WAY better at skipping rocks than me). Soon we got cold (our whole time in Europe it was pretty much cold...there were a few moments of warm weather, but apparently it's been a cold summer) and went to The Beach House, a fancy pub-style restaurant on the harbor, and got tomato soup.
That first night we had a great sleep. Actually, I slept awesome that whole trip, mostly because I was so exhausted by the end of the day. We got up really early the next morning, probably around 6, which for me is equal to death, but I didn't even feel the grouchiness I thought I would. Our whole time backpacking, there wasn't one morning where I thought, "Uh...just five more minutes." So I was UP and ready to go for our first day, which was devoted to Northern Ireland. We rode trains that day for a total of 10 hours for 4 hours worth of time at Giant's Causeway, this awesome span of coast covered with naturally-formed, octagonal rocks that someone found themselves in massive piles you can climb on. So it was a long day of getting on and off trains, and running to the ATM before buses left (who knew they took pounds in Northern Ireland? Apparently, I'd forgotten this), but we thought worth it, considering the short time we had in Ireland.
When we got back that night, we'd been going going going for about 17 hours, which for me is crazy unusual, but it meant that when I went to sleep, I was OUT.
I've gone much more in detail than I thought, but once I start thinking about the trip, more things come to mind...and I haven't really gone into the intangible stuff, like how things smell (I have weird smell associations) or taste, etc. But it's stuff like this that I imagine telling Ryan. I want to cling to these moments since I can't imagine caring much about stuff like work and family drama and school toward the end of my life. So stay tuned for more updates on our trip...now that I've started, I'll try to finish!
I'm so thankful I married someone who loves to travel. Last year when we decided to be a part of the Slovakia English camp this summer, we were already planning to visit my friend Marie who studied in Sheffield, England, this past year. Then, when we actually looked at a calendar, we saw how closely these trips were to each other. Basically, we would be coming back from England late on a Sunday and leaving for Slovakia on a Thursday! So, being the spoiled traveler I am, I thought, "Hmmm....would we be able to just combine these trips? I mean, hey, it would actually SAVE money with all the flying back and forth taken out." And somehow this worked. We basically spent all of July in Europe.
We left July 30th from the FW airport the day after that monster storm ripped through the city and basically leveled Lake Avenue. I was worried the airport wouldn't be up and running, or at least wouldn't be running on time, by the next afternoon, but we had beautiful weather the next day and easily made our flight in O'Hare.
On Sept. 1st we landed in Dublin, Ireland, and walked around the city for a few hours, and took a nap in St. Stephen's Green (after dumping our crazy heavy backpacks off at an internet cafe, which apparently all internet cafes now double as luggage holders) before taking the DART to Greystones. The DART is a train that runs just north of Dublin down to Greystones where I lived in the spring of 2006, studying through Taylor Upland's program. To say the least, it was a soul-grabbing semester. Don't get me wrong, it didn't always feel amazing, but even the mundane parts of that semester, I believe, changed me for the better.
So taking the DART again was like riding a memory...way too sentimental, but I love that freaking train. It runs along the east coast of Ireland where there are small beaches and rocky hills. Bray is the last stop before Greystones and by that point, I was super impatient to just see Greystones already. Soon we were passing through the tunnels that go through the tall hills separating Bray and Greystones. When we pulled out of the last tunnel and I saw the coastline of Greystones, it didn't seem real. In fact, none of the time in Ireland seemed real. We walked out of the small train stop at Greystones and when I stepped onto the main street of the small town, I don't even know...it was like stepping out of a Stephen King time machine...so many people were just walking around and driving, as if nothing had changed in the last 6 years. In a way, I guess nothing had.
We walked down the main street, took a right after The Happy Pear, a brilliant smoothie store, and then a left on Trafalgar Rd. It was crazy walking down that road. I didn't remember it being that long before we got to Coolnagreina, the place where I lived. But we soon found it and, boy, has it changed! There's still the main building where I stayed, but now it's mostly just used for the dining room, rec room, etc. They built on a whole new building across the lawn. I'm so glad I stayed in the old building in '06. It's made of sweet stone and just looks Irish. It was cramped and creaky, but I love that building. Ryan and I stayed in the new building for the next three nights. It's a nice building and all that, but a little too nice. I personally love old buildings, so it was kinda sad to think future study groups won't be staying in that lovely old building anymore.
BUT the harbor that's literally 10 steps away is still gorgeous. I hadn't expected that since they renovated the whole thing a year or two after my semester there. It was so surreal, trying to skip rocks with Ryan at the harbor (he's WAY better at skipping rocks than me). Soon we got cold (our whole time in Europe it was pretty much cold...there were a few moments of warm weather, but apparently it's been a cold summer) and went to The Beach House, a fancy pub-style restaurant on the harbor, and got tomato soup.
That first night we had a great sleep. Actually, I slept awesome that whole trip, mostly because I was so exhausted by the end of the day. We got up really early the next morning, probably around 6, which for me is equal to death, but I didn't even feel the grouchiness I thought I would. Our whole time backpacking, there wasn't one morning where I thought, "Uh...just five more minutes." So I was UP and ready to go for our first day, which was devoted to Northern Ireland. We rode trains that day for a total of 10 hours for 4 hours worth of time at Giant's Causeway, this awesome span of coast covered with naturally-formed, octagonal rocks that someone found themselves in massive piles you can climb on. So it was a long day of getting on and off trains, and running to the ATM before buses left (who knew they took pounds in Northern Ireland? Apparently, I'd forgotten this), but we thought worth it, considering the short time we had in Ireland.
When we got back that night, we'd been going going going for about 17 hours, which for me is crazy unusual, but it meant that when I went to sleep, I was OUT.
I've gone much more in detail than I thought, but once I start thinking about the trip, more things come to mind...and I haven't really gone into the intangible stuff, like how things smell (I have weird smell associations) or taste, etc. But it's stuff like this that I imagine telling Ryan. I want to cling to these moments since I can't imagine caring much about stuff like work and family drama and school toward the end of my life. So stay tuned for more updates on our trip...now that I've started, I'll try to finish!
Monday, August 6, 2012
Mom has breast cancer
What an unnatural statement. "Mom has breast cancer." It doesn't seem real, even as I'm in the waiting area where she's having her right breast removed. Maybe because I heard of the cancer just a week before Ryan and I left for 3 1/2 weeks. It's been over a week since we got back, but it's impossible to understand this reality.
Mom went in two hours ago with "yes" marked on her breast in Sharpie. As in, "Yes, you can remove me. Yes, you can chop me off as if I never mattered." And then what happens to it? I think they said it's sent to the lab...or at least parts of it.
PARTS of it. Once a complete entity and maybe even now a fragmented wreck. I'm actually not feeling this negative right now. There were some crazy moments on the drive down here, such as hearing mom cry for a few minutes of the drive. She's brave, but of course emotional. I don't know how to handle the grief. For some dumb reason, I felt annoyed when she first cried and realized that's my defense mechanism when I see my mom despairing. I hate that I get annoyed when she's suffering. So I kept reminding my annoyance to shut the F up and just allow ourselves to grieve.
At least hospital employees are held accountable to be nice. With some rather ugly moments the past few weeks where harshness prevailed despite this looming cancer surgery, we can use all the niceness we can get. And here's my special shout-out to all of you who have been so genuinely loving to us, especially my Marmee. And, Ryan's family, you are among the most supportive of all! I love my in-laws and not just in a pandering way! My mother-in-law actually prayed with my mom this past week and never underestimate the value of a supportive text!
So mom's officially in surgery and I wish I could say I had a clue what was going on. There's a social worker that will come see me periodically, but right now I'm just assuming no news is good news. Several people are concerned about me being here alone, but I'm actually glad for it in a way. I tend to be a loner when it comes to stuff like this and actually do pretty well in trying to keep myself occupied. Hey, I even almost have my W233 syllabus finished! Also, Kristin will be here later this afternoon, so I know I'm not alone this whole time.
As for mom, she's under anesthesia by now. How crazy is it that she won't remember any of the rest of this procedure? She'll just wake up and her breast will be GONE. I really can't imagine that. Of course, she was sad to say goodbye to it this morning. We took some pictures and wrote a song for it. If you know anything about my mom, that meant a lot to her. It's silly, of course...and to the tune of "Great Is Thy Faithfulness," I think.
Social work lady coming up....she just said they officially started the surgery at 1:18 and, as of 20 minutes ago, everything was going as planned. It will be nice when this is all over, of course, but especially because we'll know almost right away if any cancer was found during the surgery. That's mom's biggest fear so while it's unlikely it spread, at least we'll know more then!
Everything was said to take about 4 hours, but it will probably be closer to 3 since the reconstruction surgery is set for another few weeks. Not sure what else to write about....I should write a post about our trip, but I don't think I can focus on that kind of thing write now. I'm starting to feel more negative, thinking about the following recovery process. Mom should be able to come home as soon as tomorrow, but I really don't know how long until she'll feel "normal" again. I think if any of you want to help mom after the surgery, a good joke written on her FB wall would do wonders! It might be awhile til she's checking FB, of course, but she'll LOVE it if people flood her wall with good post-surgery jokes. I really love that that's my mom's main request before a huge surgery...a good joke.
Mom went in two hours ago with "yes" marked on her breast in Sharpie. As in, "Yes, you can remove me. Yes, you can chop me off as if I never mattered." And then what happens to it? I think they said it's sent to the lab...or at least parts of it.
PARTS of it. Once a complete entity and maybe even now a fragmented wreck. I'm actually not feeling this negative right now. There were some crazy moments on the drive down here, such as hearing mom cry for a few minutes of the drive. She's brave, but of course emotional. I don't know how to handle the grief. For some dumb reason, I felt annoyed when she first cried and realized that's my defense mechanism when I see my mom despairing. I hate that I get annoyed when she's suffering. So I kept reminding my annoyance to shut the F up and just allow ourselves to grieve.
At least hospital employees are held accountable to be nice. With some rather ugly moments the past few weeks where harshness prevailed despite this looming cancer surgery, we can use all the niceness we can get. And here's my special shout-out to all of you who have been so genuinely loving to us, especially my Marmee. And, Ryan's family, you are among the most supportive of all! I love my in-laws and not just in a pandering way! My mother-in-law actually prayed with my mom this past week and never underestimate the value of a supportive text!
So mom's officially in surgery and I wish I could say I had a clue what was going on. There's a social worker that will come see me periodically, but right now I'm just assuming no news is good news. Several people are concerned about me being here alone, but I'm actually glad for it in a way. I tend to be a loner when it comes to stuff like this and actually do pretty well in trying to keep myself occupied. Hey, I even almost have my W233 syllabus finished! Also, Kristin will be here later this afternoon, so I know I'm not alone this whole time.
As for mom, she's under anesthesia by now. How crazy is it that she won't remember any of the rest of this procedure? She'll just wake up and her breast will be GONE. I really can't imagine that. Of course, she was sad to say goodbye to it this morning. We took some pictures and wrote a song for it. If you know anything about my mom, that meant a lot to her. It's silly, of course...and to the tune of "Great Is Thy Faithfulness," I think.
Social work lady coming up....she just said they officially started the surgery at 1:18 and, as of 20 minutes ago, everything was going as planned. It will be nice when this is all over, of course, but especially because we'll know almost right away if any cancer was found during the surgery. That's mom's biggest fear so while it's unlikely it spread, at least we'll know more then!
Everything was said to take about 4 hours, but it will probably be closer to 3 since the reconstruction surgery is set for another few weeks. Not sure what else to write about....I should write a post about our trip, but I don't think I can focus on that kind of thing write now. I'm starting to feel more negative, thinking about the following recovery process. Mom should be able to come home as soon as tomorrow, but I really don't know how long until she'll feel "normal" again. I think if any of you want to help mom after the surgery, a good joke written on her FB wall would do wonders! It might be awhile til she's checking FB, of course, but she'll LOVE it if people flood her wall with good post-surgery jokes. I really love that that's my mom's main request before a huge surgery...a good joke.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Basic Foods
I go through a lot of food phases, but try to keep them "basic"...or my version of "healthy". I use quote marks because I'm really bad at watching sodium, colesterol (I can't even spell it right...so based on spellcheck it's 'cholesterol'...der), and sugar. So I'm trying to up the...well, I should say, I need to up the vegetables...anyway, I got on this topic because a friend was talking last night about it, so I thought it would be good to make a list of basic foods I like. Over the years, I've tried to "train" myself to like healthier foods, especially ones that I can eat a lot of.
So, my list of staple foods:
1. Oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon (and blueberries or strawberries if the season calls for it)
2. Scrambled egg whites with frozen vegetables (don't eat with the vegetables still frozen). If you cook the vegetables with the egg whites, I don't think the vitamins cook out. Not sure about that, though. And hard-boiled eggs are good, too.
3. Freaking organic burritos. That's not the real label, don't worry. They're the Amy's brand and DELICIOUS with good fiber.
4. My newest food phase: yogurt with Grapenut cereal and raisins mixed in...I hate Grapenuts plain, but like this it's pretty good.
5. Fiber One cereal
6. My version of PB sandwich: Sandwich Slim bread with just a little PB and this fibery fruit jam...super tasty.
7. Frozen blueberries...or "tiny, happiness popsicles".
Other than that, fruit in general is great...especially since I suck at watching sugar-intake. Bleh. And with all that said, I'm caving a lot more since I'm back at Flat Top...but how can you say no to a Triple Chocolate Storm when it's free and placed in the server's station, beckoning you with it's dark, chocolatey eyes to partake in its abyss of tastiness?
So, my list of staple foods:
1. Oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon (and blueberries or strawberries if the season calls for it)
2. Scrambled egg whites with frozen vegetables (don't eat with the vegetables still frozen). If you cook the vegetables with the egg whites, I don't think the vitamins cook out. Not sure about that, though. And hard-boiled eggs are good, too.
3. Freaking organic burritos. That's not the real label, don't worry. They're the Amy's brand and DELICIOUS with good fiber.
4. My newest food phase: yogurt with Grapenut cereal and raisins mixed in...I hate Grapenuts plain, but like this it's pretty good.
5. Fiber One cereal
6. My version of PB sandwich: Sandwich Slim bread with just a little PB and this fibery fruit jam...super tasty.
7. Frozen blueberries...or "tiny, happiness popsicles".
Other than that, fruit in general is great...especially since I suck at watching sugar-intake. Bleh. And with all that said, I'm caving a lot more since I'm back at Flat Top...but how can you say no to a Triple Chocolate Storm when it's free and placed in the server's station, beckoning you with it's dark, chocolatey eyes to partake in its abyss of tastiness?
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sleeping
I swear, I could take a five hour nap every day and still sleep over eight hours at night...as in, I would still think I NEED eight hours at night. Ryan was taking a nap yesterday (which he actually needed) and I was all adult-like..."No, I don't need it, I should do stuff..." but then he says, "I think you should take one with me" and next thing I know I'm asleep for three hours. He offers a hard bargain.
So, after that nap yesterday, I still don't get up in time to ride my bike to work. Well, if I left five minutes after I woke up, I would've, but that's just crazy. When else would I finish my daily crossword? Let's not go crazy here.
Speaking of sleeping, I have the weirdest dreams. Just had one last night (very elaborate one, too) that I won't go too much into detail, but basically a guy I used to know had died because he and his friends dangled their cars off of cliffs or something. The media was releasing all these messed up videos of these guys getting high and terrorizing the public. The best video was them flushing bologna for who knows what reason. The cops were breaking into their home and they were like, "Hide it! Hide it!" One guy didn't make it to the bathroom so ate it.
Do you ever have trouble remembering what you were thinking one second earlier when you're about to fall asleep? If I for some reason can't fall asleep right away, I know I'm about to when I think, "What was I just thinking about? It wasn't important, but still..."
I think that's what it's like to get older and forgetful...just remembered I was thinking about my grampa last night. He passed away two months ago and because of ensuing family drama, I don't feel like I've really had a chance to grieve over him. Although, maybe it will be a lifelong process because I don't even feel like I've processed the fact that he's dead. Or that I'm so painfully terrified of the "afterlife." I don't get it. I don't understand salvation or "what it takes" to attain it. I know it's not about "works" or "doing good," but it's also not just about faith, either. Ah, the ancient argument...grace vs. works.
If a gun was held to my head with the crazy gunner demanding an answer, I'd say I believed my grampa was in heaven. This was posted all over Facebook, but it's a story I hope I'll never forget, even in my own old age...just moments before he passed away, my grampa turned to my uncle Denny with the biggest smile on his face as a tear came out of one eye. I still kick myself because I got to the nursing home just a minute or two too late to see that look and, in a way, it haunts me. When I came through the door, he took his last breath and I heard about the look from my gramma, mom, aunt, uncle and cousin. Five people saw it. As an everlasting skeptic, I always question, "Now, did it happen just as they think it happened?" but come on, they didn't all imagine it. So, my grampa, who was motionless and not eating/drinking for over a week, didn't just randomly become alert enough to show such a joyous look to my uncle. Beneath my layers of skepticism, I believe that my grampa was seeing something truly beautiful. Heaven? Sure, why not? Either way, he was seeing something and that something wasn't linked to the nursing room. Was it coincidence that he became alert with that look right as he was dying? I don't believe it. What are the odds? And where would he have found the energy even to turn his head? No, he saw something and, what's so frustrating, is that after a lifetime of service to God and spreading His Word, the one moment where just one word from him could have spoken a thousand truths, all he could give was a look. But, of course, that was enough, I think. I'll never forget it and I wasn't even there. At first, I was not just in agony that I'd been literally seconds too late to be with him when he died, but that I felt like that look wasn't meant for me...that I wasn't ever going to understand death or life after it, so God just went, "Well, sorry, it wasn't worth wasting something so powerful on you...guess you should have hit better lights as you were driving."
But I did get to see it, even though it was through the testimony of others. And even if I had seen it, would that change much? I'd still question if I saw it right, so I might as well trust the witness of five family members. So, I'm sorry I wasn't there at the very end, grampa, but thank you for even making your final moment of sleep a way for us to see the light of God.
So, after that nap yesterday, I still don't get up in time to ride my bike to work. Well, if I left five minutes after I woke up, I would've, but that's just crazy. When else would I finish my daily crossword? Let's not go crazy here.
Speaking of sleeping, I have the weirdest dreams. Just had one last night (very elaborate one, too) that I won't go too much into detail, but basically a guy I used to know had died because he and his friends dangled their cars off of cliffs or something. The media was releasing all these messed up videos of these guys getting high and terrorizing the public. The best video was them flushing bologna for who knows what reason. The cops were breaking into their home and they were like, "Hide it! Hide it!" One guy didn't make it to the bathroom so ate it.
Do you ever have trouble remembering what you were thinking one second earlier when you're about to fall asleep? If I for some reason can't fall asleep right away, I know I'm about to when I think, "What was I just thinking about? It wasn't important, but still..."
I think that's what it's like to get older and forgetful...just remembered I was thinking about my grampa last night. He passed away two months ago and because of ensuing family drama, I don't feel like I've really had a chance to grieve over him. Although, maybe it will be a lifelong process because I don't even feel like I've processed the fact that he's dead. Or that I'm so painfully terrified of the "afterlife." I don't get it. I don't understand salvation or "what it takes" to attain it. I know it's not about "works" or "doing good," but it's also not just about faith, either. Ah, the ancient argument...grace vs. works.
If a gun was held to my head with the crazy gunner demanding an answer, I'd say I believed my grampa was in heaven. This was posted all over Facebook, but it's a story I hope I'll never forget, even in my own old age...just moments before he passed away, my grampa turned to my uncle Denny with the biggest smile on his face as a tear came out of one eye. I still kick myself because I got to the nursing home just a minute or two too late to see that look and, in a way, it haunts me. When I came through the door, he took his last breath and I heard about the look from my gramma, mom, aunt, uncle and cousin. Five people saw it. As an everlasting skeptic, I always question, "Now, did it happen just as they think it happened?" but come on, they didn't all imagine it. So, my grampa, who was motionless and not eating/drinking for over a week, didn't just randomly become alert enough to show such a joyous look to my uncle. Beneath my layers of skepticism, I believe that my grampa was seeing something truly beautiful. Heaven? Sure, why not? Either way, he was seeing something and that something wasn't linked to the nursing room. Was it coincidence that he became alert with that look right as he was dying? I don't believe it. What are the odds? And where would he have found the energy even to turn his head? No, he saw something and, what's so frustrating, is that after a lifetime of service to God and spreading His Word, the one moment where just one word from him could have spoken a thousand truths, all he could give was a look. But, of course, that was enough, I think. I'll never forget it and I wasn't even there. At first, I was not just in agony that I'd been literally seconds too late to be with him when he died, but that I felt like that look wasn't meant for me...that I wasn't ever going to understand death or life after it, so God just went, "Well, sorry, it wasn't worth wasting something so powerful on you...guess you should have hit better lights as you were driving."
But I did get to see it, even though it was through the testimony of others. And even if I had seen it, would that change much? I'd still question if I saw it right, so I might as well trust the witness of five family members. So, I'm sorry I wasn't there at the very end, grampa, but thank you for even making your final moment of sleep a way for us to see the light of God.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Nothing Important
As the title suggests, nothing super important here. But there was a funny moment on Thursday, riding to work. There's this guy who seems to be sitting shirtless with headphones at the same bench along the St. Mary's bike trail. It was probably the first time I really noticed he always sits there at that time and I was like, "Oh, duh, he's probably waiting for a bus" and then I go, "Yes, Heather, that's what's happening...he's sitting along a bike path where there are no roads, let alone buses, waiting for the mythical Knight Bus to arrive..." That said, it was a rough bike ride Thursday. I hadn't ridden since the Friday before and thought it would be wise to eat a frozen burrito (at least it was an organic one) before the ride to work. My stomach had already been grumbling over the slabs of pizza and cheesy bread I'd crammed in it Wed. night, so the burrito and pizza slabs were having fisticuffs. The ride home was fine, though.
I actually worked six days in a row this week at the Grill. Craziness. Have to say, I'm glad to be off until Monday. I'm having that dream again where I have dozens of tables and no clue what they ordered or how to check them out. It didn't help that my aunt came in the dream with her kids and made me solve a MASH game to determine my tip. When you have to leap up flights of auditorium stands to get to tables that, for some reason, are located there, solving a MASH puzzle is quite stressful.
And most of our trip is planned - we just have two more hostels to book and one train. One week to go! It's going to be weird coming back after all this, looking at planning out fall classes instead of fun trip funtimes. I'm glad I'm still teaching and that I actually have a full section of classes, but I think I'm getting to the point where I either need to teach creative writing or literature, or find something else where I can write myself. The composition classes really are fine and have merit in their own ways, but don't hold much "oomph" for me. The other classes, though, I feel a desire not just to try harder, but to actually have fun with it. I can't say I had a lot of fun activities for the literature class last spring, but as it was my first one, I mostly just looked at getting the basics across. For next spring, I should be teaching the same literature class, and could try some more creative projects, like creating alternate endings to stories or giving character profiles. That would be cool, I think.
What to do the rest of the day? Husband and I might ride to Coldstone for some cold stones....hahahaha, so funny. There's also packing to do and miscellaneous stuff before we take off next week. If anyone wants to come over tonight for Abraham Lincoln Vs. Zombies...nevermind, just check it out and it's Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer that I want to see...the other one looks like a non-Tim Burton piece of crap someone decided to sell on Red Box. So...Iron Lady anyone?
I actually worked six days in a row this week at the Grill. Craziness. Have to say, I'm glad to be off until Monday. I'm having that dream again where I have dozens of tables and no clue what they ordered or how to check them out. It didn't help that my aunt came in the dream with her kids and made me solve a MASH game to determine my tip. When you have to leap up flights of auditorium stands to get to tables that, for some reason, are located there, solving a MASH puzzle is quite stressful.
And most of our trip is planned - we just have two more hostels to book and one train. One week to go! It's going to be weird coming back after all this, looking at planning out fall classes instead of fun trip funtimes. I'm glad I'm still teaching and that I actually have a full section of classes, but I think I'm getting to the point where I either need to teach creative writing or literature, or find something else where I can write myself. The composition classes really are fine and have merit in their own ways, but don't hold much "oomph" for me. The other classes, though, I feel a desire not just to try harder, but to actually have fun with it. I can't say I had a lot of fun activities for the literature class last spring, but as it was my first one, I mostly just looked at getting the basics across. For next spring, I should be teaching the same literature class, and could try some more creative projects, like creating alternate endings to stories or giving character profiles. That would be cool, I think.
What to do the rest of the day? Husband and I might ride to Coldstone for some cold stones....hahahaha, so funny. There's also packing to do and miscellaneous stuff before we take off next week. If anyone wants to come over tonight for Abraham Lincoln Vs. Zombies...nevermind, just check it out and it's Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer that I want to see...the other one looks like a non-Tim Burton piece of crap someone decided to sell on Red Box. So...Iron Lady anyone?
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