WANTED:

One soul mate and travel companion to roam with for the rest of forever. Must currently be age 28-38. Preferably at least 6’, but not necessary. Must have good hygiene and work ethic. Must be secure financially (otherwise how will you travel with me?) Must be willing to occasionally hold my purse, carry my backpack and prop me up. I’ll do the same for you. Except I hope you don’t have a purse. Must be relaxed with a sense of humor I find funny. I’m LDS and will not be persuaded to any other belief system. For both our sakes, you should be LDS too. Must like hot, tropical climates (because I hate being cold). Must enjoy adventures. Must hurry up and get here.

That is all.

I'll Fly Away

I just thought you'd want to know: Today I received my frequent flier miles from British Airways. You know, the ones promised from their hum-dinger of a deal.

I couldn't help myself. I logged into my British Airways account and, seeing all those lovely miles brimming over on my account balance prompted me to quickly spend them. My fingers got all tingly and excited and I just couldn't pry them away from the keyboard! Before I knew it, I was the proud recipient of one email confirmation for one flight to Rome!

So now that's:
One hotel in Rome: Check.
One flight: Check.

Now just to decide what I'm going to do with all of the time I've got there! Due to frequent flier reward flight availability, I had to stay over in Europa for a few more days than I'd anticipated. What a crying shame. I mean, what on earth am I going to do in Europe for four extra days? Hehehe...

As much as I love Rome, I won't be staying there the whole time.
Here's what I'm thinking, tell me if I'm completely nutsoid:

Days 1-3: Rome


Day 3: Fly to Amman, Jordan. Join a Gecko's Adventures tour. This one, to be precise:
Petra to the Pyramids. I'll go with the group from Amman, Jordan and see the ruins at Petra, climb Mt. Sinai, ride a camel, see the Pyramids and Sphinx... you get the picture.

 Day... 14ish: Fly from Cairo to Rome. Train from Rome to Napoli. Overnight in Napoli.
Days 15-16: Field trips from Napoli to Capri and Pompeii and back to Rome.

Capri

 Pompeii

Days 16-18: Back to Rome for a bit of R&R and a lovely bookend to one crazy hectic trip.

OR: Replace Naples with La Cinque Terra.

One of the cities in La Cinque Terre 

OR: I have a friend living in Cairo right now. Maybe I'll just stay in Cairo a few extra days before heading back to Rome. So many decisions!! Must contemplate on this.

What do you think? Is this too ambitious for one trip? ;)

Travel Trophies & The Brain Box

Traveling often-times brings out qualities in people that are less than desirable, including crazed kleptomania and, in cruise-industry terms: an over-use of the Brain box.

Never heard of the Brain Box? (Feigns surprise!) Well then, let me clue you in. The Brain Box is the imaginary receptacle kept by the gangway of all cruise ships. When passengers board the ship, unbeknownst to them, they place their brains in the box (along with their good sense and capabilities for reason and rationality). Use of the brain box invariably leads to questions like these being asked:

1. What time is the midnight buffet?

2. Does the ship generate its own electricity?

3. Do these stairs go up or down?

4. How do I work the microwave in my stateroom? (Its a safe!)

5. Does this elevator take me to the back of the ship?

6. Do the crew sleep on board? (To which we reply: No madam, helicopters come each night, pick us up and take us to the nearest Howard Johnson)

7. Will we see dolphins in the morning? (I'll just call them up and make an appointment...)

8. Can we look at the anchor? (When anchored!)

9. What will the weather be like next Wednesday? (Erm - how long is a piece of string?!)

10. Can you move the lifeboat from our stateroom window?!

11. Has this ship ever sunk before? (Hmm!)

12. Is the water in the toilet salt water or fresh water?

13. Which part of England are you from?..Australia??

14. Ahh - you're from Melbourne...do you know David Smith?!!

15. Why does the ship not have cable?

16. (On formal night at Captain's Cocktail) Who's driving the boat?

17.  Why are we not docked (urhhh... because there's no pier??!!!)

18.  I'm claustrophobic... is there any chance of an upgrade?

19.  Do the lifeboats really float?

20.  Why am I standing in this line?? (Well I don't know buddy, why ARE you standing in this line??)

21.  (On a Cruise to Nowhere -- meaning there are only sea days on the cruise before returning to home port) When are we docking at the first port?? (Did you REALLY book this cruise yourself)??

22. What do I do with my life jacket after boat drill??

23. Does this elevator go to deck 4?

24. Do these stairs go up?

25. Why isn't everything in the shops reduced on the last day of the cruise?

26. The orange pillows on my bed are so hard, can we get softer ones? ( Ma'am, that will be your lifejacket )

27. Are we going to be sailing over or under the bridge today?


Have you asked one of those gems of a question? If so, don't feel bad. People who travel are out of their element; it's uncomfortable, foreign and awkward to travel. Stupid questions are bound to be asked and answered (and then probably laughed at and written down by those who overhear them). But now that you're back in your element, aren't they entertaining? I think so.

But I digress. Onward to the travel trophies.

Some people steal soap. Others, shower caps. Room keys, shampoos, toiletry dishes, toilet paper and towels. Bathrobes and umbrellas.

I've collected some interesting trophies over the years. When I began working in the travel industry I wanted to buy one of everything! A conch shell from the Bahamas, A hammock from Cozumel, Jewelry in St. Thomas. Electronics in St. Maarten, Island clothing from all over. Russian nesting dolls, hand-knotted rugs, Union Jack paraphernalia from London, a mini Eiffel tower from Paris, Swedish wool sweaters, A viking hat from Norway. You get the picture? Every place, a new salesman pitching the same piece of junk! (Well it's not all junk... just most of it!) I quickly resolved that if I wanted to save up any money and be able to take anything home at all, I could not purchase any souvenir bigger than a paperweight. So I have tiny Russian nesting dolls, a mini crystal Faberge egg, an eetsy bitsy little Mayan pyramid from Mexico (although I did buy a hammock chair too).

While I worked for Holland America Line I collected ship sh#t. (That's what it's "lovingly" called by the staff). I have a "Dam Ships" hat. I have a picture frame. I have a "dam" mug from each ship I sailed with them. The first letter of the ship on one side of the mug and "Dam" on the other side (All of the dam humor comes from the names of the dam ships - they're named after cities in Holland, all ending in "dam." Maasdam, Ryndam, Veendam, Zaandam, Volendam, Zuiderdam. I really, really wanted a "dam rain" umbrella, but never managed to snag one (they were zealously guarded amenities for suite passengers) before I switched to Princess Line.

From HAL's private island, Half Moon Cay, I have weather-worn, sea-tossed, salt-crusted shell. From a cigar store on St. Maarten, a Cuban Cigar box. In the cigar box are a pair of yellow sunglasses from an old love. A blue bottle covered in hand-crafted clay from Costa Rica. I have every crew ID from my old contracts.

But after a couple of summers of working in travel, buying tourist trap stuff lost interest for me. Now all I really keep are sand and shells from my favorite beaches - which I put in vases with and make:

And my photographs. The Colosseum in Rome, The Statue of Liberty in New York. The Louvre in Paris and the ocean in Barbados. A Viking ship in Norway, a red banana in Venezuela, the Russian Ballet and the Dodge's palace in Venice.  The walls of my house are covered in photographs and my closets contain stacks of others. Each photograph is a memory, a person, a jump back to a place and time, a treasure.

What are your travel trophies?

Saturday Mud, Ice Skating and Pygmy Goats

I like mud.

I have for a long time. Long. Time. Think: toddler in a diaper playing with trucks in a pile of mud in the back yard. I'm sure my mother was thrilled. As a teen, one of the fondest memories I have of my Grandmother's farm is of a humid fall day after a storm. The fields had been plowed under and were wet and ready to be planted. My cousins, siblings and I had just finished traipsing from one side of the acreage to the other (on safari) and before we reached Gram's house, we paused to have a "mud-hunk" fight. What? A "mud-hunk" fight, you say! Yes, yes, a mud-hunk fight. There is definitely such a creature. And it's fantastical fun! When we finally reached the back porch, we had to hose off. I'm pretty sure mud-hunk fights are the reason mud-rooms were invented.

It's been seasonably cold and wet in Northern California. I'm not a fan of cold. I like wet as long as it's warm. Like rainy days in Puerto Rico: Warm + wet = fine by me. But as much as I normally enjoy California, the cold has got me thinking incessantly about flying south for the winter and staying put. (Think Florida, not So-Cal. I'm SO not a so-cal gal. So flying South East for the winter, really.)
So when the rain dried up a bit on Friday, I was pleased. When the sun deigned to show it's lovely (but altogether too-weak wintery) face on Saturday, I knew that it would be an optimal day for hiking! You see, the hills of California are rather volitile. They're prone to outbursts of lush, green color after rain and golden-browns when it's dry. Underneath all of those dry golden browns lie feet and feet of cracked, dry, parched dirt. Just imagine! The cracks in the dirt sometimes reach downwards in spidery jig-jags measuring feet, not inches. Now add water. Lots of water. Mix. Let dry slightly. What do you have when it's done?

Mud.
LOTS. OF. MUD.

Like I said, perfect hiking conditions! There's something about wandering around in the hills and returning home covered in mud, scratches and bruises that is just so... satisfying! Like you've accomplished something truly wonderful and scratched some primal itch to go out and be one with the earth.

 

Deer tracks. Horse track.

Me and my backpack and the green, green hill.

This flock of bikers also thought the mud was pretty great. Can you blame them?

So I wandered the hills a while. And by wander, I mean I had no clue where I was going. I headed in a general direction. I explored trails that I hadn't previously taken, which is always a fun thing to do. You never know what you'll find. For instance, on Saturday's hike, I found this:

A realllly old tractor. Would you expect to find that on a hike in the hills? Me neither. I found it when I found this place:

Borges Ranch. It's an old homestead in the hills of Walnut Creek. It's been preserved as a historical site with the surrounding land (which has been turned into hiking trails and recreation areas). Go figure! Who knew it was up there? And inside the little old house was one of these:

How cute is that old stove? And how much would you hate life if you had to use a wood-burning stove everyday (given the modern convenience of gas and electric ranges)???

AND THEN, as if an old tractor, house and stove weren't enough, guess what else I found!! Go ahead. Guess.

Yup. You're right.

Short, fat and adorable (for livestock) Pygmy Goats!

And also one of these normal goats:

AND:

Two very friendly sheep.

 And then, feeling very pleased with my hike and satisfied with the day's accomplishments, I started to wander back in the general direction of my jeep and found this cattle guard:

Which was much more intimidating to walk over than to drive over. Truly. I'm prone to twisted ankles and scrapes and bruises, which means that I don't have the surest footing. So what I'm really saying is that while I was walking across the cattle guard and taking that photo, it was a miracle that I didn't slip and die.

Past the cattle guard and back up through the hills and horse-trails I made it back to my Jeep. My boots ended up looking like this:

Which is why I have these:

All-weather floor mats. Couldn't live without them.

But wait! There's more!!
The day was far from done. I mozied home. Showered. Put on clean clothes. Finished Christmas shopping and then joined a large group of friends for an evening of:

One happy mud hiking, historical-site-finding, goat petting, ice skating girl.

Days like this are why I wander.

Oh, and just for good measure, the funniest footprint of the day:

You probably think it's my bare-footprint, after all, I would practically bathe in mud (actually I have had a mud bath), but it's not. I found it up on the ridge of a hill in all of it's stark and shocking glory.

My Birthday, Bob Reily & FEMA Trailers

I've decided.

I received the A-OK on using my friend's beach house near Pensacola for my birthday, so that's where I'm headed. I am SO excited! Woo! Hawaii is nice, but truth be told, I prefer Florida. Is that weird? I don't care.

I booked my rental car and need to book my flight. But prices went up since I looked last, so I think I'll wait until mid-January to book. Prices go down then because people stop traveling after the holiday rush.

I can't wait for this. I've been before. Several times. For a brief period of time I lived in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. Truly. For about three months. I took a job down there that wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Ocean Springs is about 2 hours west of my destination. When I decided to move to Mississippi, I called up my old College roommate Bri (AKA, My ninja) and told her I was headed South. She was living in New Orleans with her Husband Chris (who was going to school at UNO). We were both ridiculously excited and I planned to stop at her place and visit on my way to Mississippi (I drove!)

It was nearly one year after Hurricane Katrina. Bri and Chris had lived in Student Housing in the heart of the city during the Hurricane. Luckily, they'd been in their car when the warning came through and decided that although Hurricane Warnings were routine and annoying, they'd heed it and headed to Chris' parent's place near Shreveport. They had the clothes on their back and whatever was in the trunk of their car (not much!). After the hurricane, Chris and his older brother ventured down into the flooded city, "borrowed" a boat and went to their flooded dorm house to get their birth certificates and other personal items. Chris' brother stood on the back of the boat with a loaded shot gun while Chris steered the boat. It was not a good time to be in New Orleans.

Crazy, eh?

So that brought me to staying with Bri and Chris in their gotten-with-much-difficulty-because-they-were-white-students FEMA trailer. What an adventure. What an exercise in government waste, corruption and horrific management. Wow. The trailer park was chalk-full of brand new, empty trailers. They sat, chugging electricity, completely unused. Amazing. The ones that were in use often had a brand-new Escalade or some other ostentatious luxury car parked outside. You see, the families that lived in the trailers also receive(d) a monthly stipend. Families that were rebuilding homes down in the disaster zone would park their FEMA trailers on their land while "rebuilding" so they'd get their stipend. I say rebuilding with quote marks because by the time I got there, many of the houses were completely rebuilt (many were NOT) minus one wall that was covered in plastic. So long as the house remained unfinished, the stipend checks kept coming. And what about those lovely government officials who were appointed to inspect the homes in-progress? They gladly accepted bribes and checked on their survey sheet "unfinished."

Yah.

I grew up in a city in Northern California that is notorious for gang violence and also for generally being a "rough" city. Vallejo. Maybe you've heard of it?  I've traveled the world and narowly missed riots in Caracas, shootings in Panama and gang violence in Poland. I've never in all of my life felt as uncomfortable as I did spending one night in New Orleans. Martial law had the run of sections of the city. Tanks rolled through the streets and soldiers marched around with very large guns. Mind you, this was a YEAR after the hurricane. One whole year.

So while I was chatting with Bri in the FEMA trailer, she mentioned that she and Chris were actually moving the following weekend. Chris was finished with UNO) and while he was waiting for his Dental school acceptance they would be living in Bri's Mom's beach house near Pensacola. What a life! I was so excited that they'd still be near enough to me to visit. It turns out that Bri and Chris and that beach house (so really, Bri's Mom was a lifesaver too!) gave me a place to go and clear my head, get away from my crumbling career and the utter directionless-ness of my life at the time. I went there on the weekends. We ate and played in the sand and played with their little chihuahua Lilly. We took their boat out on the sound and watched the Dolphins jump and held Lilly out over the water to see if an Alligator or big fish would snap her up. It was such a fun time amidst the chaos of my life! And when I eventually quit my awful job, I spent a week in that house (Bri and Chris were in Indiana for the week), working on my resume and demo reel, applying for jobs and every day I'd go and walk on the beach for hours. I'd watch the pink and green sunsets and see large white cranes, starfish, soft-shelled crabs and jellyfish and enjoy the solace of that place.
...

And how does Bob Reily fit into this story, you ask? Well, driving from Mississippi to Pensacola takes you right through Alabama. And on that two-hour drive, just before the 'Sippi/'Bama border, I'd call up my Mama. And as I crossed the border, I'd read the sign (in a verrrry exaggerated, mock-southern accent) "Alah-Bayumuh da Beeeauteeful, Gub-eh-naw Bahb Riiilee" (sound it out). And Mom and I would laugh and chat for most of the remaining hour of the drive. That's where Governor Bob Reily comes into play.

...
So now, I'm headed back. My life has turned around 180 degrees. I'm not directionless. I have a lovely career (for which I am so very grateful!) and enjoy my life immensely. I have been very blessed.

White sandy beaches, amazing sunsets, sea kayaking and warm weather here I come. And I've decided to go to Hemmingway's in Pensacola for my birthday dinner. Yum! Good food, great ambiance and an amazing Key Lime dessert.

Hemmingway's Island Grill

See you in June, lovely Florida!

Today

It's Thursday. Today I wandered around a bit before I got to work. First, I wandered around the folds of my bed and refused to leave them until 7:30 (I normally get up at six), choosing instead to explore that deliciously warm little nook underneath my pillow with my face. It made me feel a lot better about myself as a human being to know that I have a perfect little snuggle spot for my morning "I'm not getting out of bed yet, so I'll turn over onto my stomach and ignore my alarm" moments.

When I got up, I wandered around my house a bit more than normal. I walked in and out of the kitchen and then poked my head outside through the back door, contemplating that this morning was a bit warmer than the last few mornings. Like maybe 42 degrees instead of 28. Then I snatched the tarp off of my lime and lemon trees so they could enjoy the day and hurried back inside to the warmth of my little casa.

Next, I meandered to work. Normally I bike to the train station. However, tut, tut, it looked like rain (and rain it did!) so I needed to drive to the train station. Unfortunately I slept in (well, not so unfortunate for my happily little well-slept eyeballs) so I knew there would be no parking if I drove to the train station. 'd have to break down and drive all the way in to work. (Quarter tank of gas and $12 to park!) If I must, I must. So I took the long way. The way that takes me right down into the heart of downtown to my favorite morning place: The bakery.

This bakery has the most astonishingly delicious Chocolate Croissants that I've eaten in the US (And they even come close to the ones I love in Paris and Acapulco... yes, I did just say Acapulco). They're buttery, flaky, chocolaty, perfection. One of these days I will be able to stop myself from eating the croissant long enough to take a picture. Today is not that day.

When I got to the bakery, I smiled at the workers, who know me quite well and held up two fingers and said to one of them "Two today, please." And she knew I wanted two Chocolate croissants without my having to tell her, because she's cool like that. And while she bagged up my Croissants (No they were not both for me, more on that later) I wandered around the bakery, sampling all of the samples. I walked out about to pop a sample of a new type of cookie in my mouth. And when that cookie sample hit my taste buds, I turned right around and went back in the store for two of them.(To go with the theme of twos). Mocha-chocolate cookies. Oh yummy ambrosia!

I hopped in my little Jeep and meandered back through town to the freeway, munching on my Chocolate Croissant, getting flaky croissant crumbs all over me (yum) and went to work.
Instead of going straight to my office as I normally do, I went upstairs to my little sister's office (Yes, we both work at the same place... funny, eh?) to give my adorably cute, six and a half month pregnant sister a chocolate croissant and a chocolate mocha cookie and took this picture:

Isn't she ridiculously, fantastically, perfectly cute? No one should be allowed to look that cute when they're 6.5 months pregnant!

 --

I feel much better about this being Thursday now that I've started the morning with shenanigans. And don't you just love the word shenanigan?

Contemplating Birthday Getaways

I'm having a birthday in 2010. Big deal, you say, everyone has one of those!
Well, this one is extra special with a cherry on top. In June I'll be turning ____. Yes, ______.
And in honor of this extra special birthday with a cherry on top, I've decided to go someplace. To a beach somewhere and hole up, dig in and be very, very indulgent. (Extra, extra indulgent considering that I'll have just arrived home from my European extravaganza only the month before!)

You might wonder why I'm planning this six months out. Seems a bit odd coming from a girl that three years ago didn't have a fixed address or know what side of the world she'd be on in two weeks, let alone six months. Well. I've since settled a bit. But just a bit. And I've learned that if one wants to go places using airline miles for flights, you have to book well in advance or you'll end up using cash (heaven forbid when you've got a perfectly good reward flight waiting!!). Besides, I'm CONSTANTLY looking for travel deals. Seriously. Constantly. And sometimes you've just got to pounce on a good opportunity. And all of that constant activity gets me automatically thinking about the trips I want to take... which all leads to my birthday trip (a bit silly of me, considering I haven't yet figured out the rest of my April/May Euro trip).

So anyway, I was thinking Southern California, but I couldn't get a reservation for the place I wanted. Blast!

So then I thought maybe Mendocino. But I've been there, done that. And as perfectly lovely as it was (I should blog that trip now because I wasn't a blogger when I went), I think I'll save going back there for when I can take a yet-to-be-named significant other.


So, my list as of now is:

Hawaii (Oahu)

Waikiki Beach - the last time I was there... Mmmm... (Though I would be headed to the North shore, not Waikiki)

or

Florida (near Pensacola)

Mmmm...

Someplace lovely, hot and tropical!

I'm about 90% sure I have a place to stay in either of those locations. And I have enough airline miles to cover the flights. So throw in a rental car and I'm off to the beach for the big ____th (that's the only clue you'll get as to the number... it's a th, not an nd) birthday!


Where would you go for your big ____th birthday?

Portland!

Okay, okay, I give already. I ventured far and wide to the mystical (and fog-covered) land of Ory-gun for Turkey day. Portland. And it was surprisingly painless. Even fun. Truly. Which surprises me. Overtly.

My sister, her husband and I piled in my little Jeep Wrangler Wednesday afternoon and hit the road. It took around 11 hours (Should have taken 9 hours - an hour of traffic and two stops for meals) to get to Portland. We arrived around 11pm and went directly to sleep. The next morning we headed over to our Brother's house, where the whole gaggle of people was gathered.

My Mother had no idea we were coming - we wanted to surprise her. It all worked out beautifully, especially considering that six little neices all knew we were coming and they were told to lock their lips! I know, right? Big expectations for that secret being kept...

So, knowing we were coming, the girls had kind of flocked over near the front door and were playing there. When we quietly opened the front door and tip-toed in, they were all waiting for us with giant smiles and kept shushing themselves to keep quiet. We each grabbed a couple of nieces whilst walking toward the kitchen (where we could see Mom facing away from us) and smothered them in kisses and hugs and then pounced on Mom, who was shocked to tears. :)

It was a good surprise.

We all hung out a while and then headed to the movies. I took my Mom and oldest niece (Payton is almost 12! Which makes me... well, never mind) to see the latest Twilight installment, New Moon. My brother Ryan took the rest of the little girls (minus the infant and two-year-olds) to see A Christmas Carol and the rest of the Adults bailed on him to see The Blind Side.

Meanwhile at the house, Ryan's wife Kerrie and my other Sis-in-law Tammy stayed with the babies and finished cooking the fabulous Turkey dinner, which was ready when we arrived home. Easiest Thanksgiving I've EVER taken part in. Loved it!

There were eighteen of us at the dinner table. Which is ginormous for a solitary-type family such as ours. Seven children were present (eight if you include the one my little sister has in-progress). 

The rest of the long weekend was spent playing with neices, vegging out, eating leftovers and even included a trip to downtown Portland to see Santa at Macy's.

Highlights:
My brother in law was given the fabulous nickname "Karen" by one of the two-year olds, who apparently thought that Karen and Eric were the same name. Imagine a two-foot little toe-head running around saying in a high-pitched voice: "Karen! Come on Karen!" while a 6'8" guy follows her around. Yah.

Another niece said to me while sitting on my lap and looking at pictures with me: "Ooooh, that's a pretty picture. Hehe, I tooted."

Sigh... what a great trip.

What did you do for Thanksgiving and what was the best part of your day?

Photos:

 Mom

Football...

These two were entirely too much fun to take photos of... I have WAY too many.

My six month preggo sister and her husband... who is apparently also preggo.

Just needed to share with you that all of my neices are technologically savvy. Amazing.

International Teatime

Every so often I fall in and out of a certain habit. It's neither good nor bad, but it does stain the teeth a bit. Did you think I meant coffee? Well you're wrong. I've never been a coffee drinker. I'm talking about the age-old English habit of tea-drinking. My mother always loved a good cup of chamomile or peppermint tea, and so, being a contrary child, I resolved to hate drinking tea and never be a tea-drinker.

That resolve lasted me until the age of 22. I was sailing the lovely MS Maasdam for the second summer in a row and enjoying my time immensely. I'd made a fantastic bunch of friends from all over the globe: a couple of Americans, Canadians, Brits, Aussies and Dutchies. We were all crew members and would all meet up for meals in the ship's buffet, gather our food and retreat to eat away from the mayhem of the passenger world at the tables on the back deck. We'd watch the sea churn by and admire the sunsets,  and sea-life. We'd do "high-low" where we'd talk about our best and worst moments of the day (trust me, always hilarious tales involving passenger craziness!) and after our meals, we'd get ice creams, cheesecake, chocolate, whatever desert we pleased followed by a steaming cup. Then we'd sit outside in the blazing Caribbean, drinking our hot tea. After all, that's what civilized people do. Earl Grey for our lovely Brit, Barker. Various herbal black and green teas for the others. And for myself and the Dutch fellow I was dating: soothing red Rooibos that he'd brought from home. ("The tea on this ship is Terrible!" He'd say, in the completely emphatic, Dutch way of his) I was, at first, resistant to the idea of drinking tea without sugar or cream, but I was persuaded rather easily by the afforementioned highly opinionated (and hot) BF, so I gave it a try.

A beautiful cup of red Rooibos tea. It's South African in case you were wondering.

At first sip: Blech. But by the end of the cup I was hooked. It was lovely and calming.

This morning, after a couple of "dry" years without tea, I was hit with the craving and popped into the coffee shop downstairs for a cup. All of my stress melted away and I found myself, for the first time in weeks, relaxed, one with my work chair.

Now I'm on my second cup and shall endeavor tonight to buy a few boxes of tea to keep with me at work.

Here's to you fellow tea drinkers, enjoy!

Spotted on a BART Train

I commute to work, which means that some days I drive the 16 miles to work, but mostly I ride my bike 1.5 miles to the nearest BART train station and ride the train 24 minutes to work. Lately it's been getting cold, which seriously cramps my personal style (or lack thereof). I like to wear flip flops. Actually, I don't like shoes at all and would prefer to live life with my toes sunk into white sand on a warm beach somewhere. But seeing that I live in Northern California and work at a Fortune 500 Corporation, I must wear shoes daily. But, also seeing that I work in the creative services department of said Corporation's headquarters, which is a very relaxed place, I deign to wear flip flops. Daily. Truly. And jeans most days. I love my job.
So now in the wintery cold place that is Northern California, I bundle myself up in my long-sleeved tops, jackets and ski-coat. Sometimes I pile on a scarf. I pull on my warmest wintery gloves. And then I don my beloved Rainbow flip-flops, roll up my right pant-leg, hop on my bike and cycle to BART. It's freezing at first, but by the time I get to the train I'm okay. A small sacrifice to have wiggly-free, happy toes at work all day.
But I digress.
After my wiggly-free and happy toes made it onto my train this morning, I noticed a guy get on the train the stop after me. He was really good looking. We made eye contact, smiled and sat across from each other. It occurred to me that he seemed very familiar (for you LDS people out there - don't start singing "I've seen that smile somewhere before" just yet!) and then I realized why. He was a dead ringer for the comedian Dane Cook.
Okay.
Interesting. I spent the rest of the train ride stealing
glances over at him and contemplating fame. And thinking that if it was Dane Cook, he was much cuter in real life than in photos/on TV. I found it interesting and refreshing that no one was bothering this man. Maybe he wasn't Dane Cook. Maybe he was and no one cared because everyone was preoccupied with their morning commute and the upcoming Thanksgiving festivities. Why would Dane Cook be riding a BART train? In any case, why should we care in the first place? At least to the degree that people value fame these days. And so I smiled to myself and went back to reading my book, The Time Traveler's Wife, which is a very good book, in case you were wondering.

Extra! Extra!

Super sweet deal on British Airlines (ba.com) right now. Actually a couple of them, but only one I'll be able to take advantage of presently.

First: Book a flight and fly "across the pond" by Jan 31st and get a complimentary companion ticket for your next international flight. (NICE!)

Second: A credit card offer (Blargh, you say, I know... me too. BUT:) After your first purchase you'll receive 50,000 airline miles (enough for a flight from the States to London, Germany, Switzerland...).

And then, as if one "free" (Annual fee = $75) international ticket wasn't enough! If you spend $2k on the card in the first three months of having it they'll award you ANOTHER 50k miles. Seriously. (Like that'll be hard... I buy EVERYTHING on my credit cards. Gas, Groceries, everything and then pay them off each month - I do it specifically for the mileage. Last year I went to Barbados on an award ticket. This year - Virginia and Utah.)

Considering that right now the award price for the trip I'm planning for the spring (Did I mention I'm going to Rome?) is 30k miles... I could potentially get enough miles out of this promo for THREE trips to Europe. Uh, yah. SIGN ME UP. Now. I mean it. I want those miles. ;)

www.ba.com
or direct to:

http://www.mychasecreditcards.com/britishairways/header

The Frozen Northwest

After much decision making, decision un-making, planning, un-planning and re-planning, it looks like I'll be headed to Portland for Thanksgiving.

Originally I was going to spend turkey day with my sister and her husband and then hop over to join the friends I grew up with for another feast... maybe I wouldn't have so much hopped as driven. Well, we recently found out that our brother from Boise and his Wife and kids will be making the trek to Portland to join our other Brother + his Wife, Kids, their Mom, her Partner and our Parents (did you follow that?). We were recently in Portland so we opted to do our own T-day... but the temptation of having EVERYONE in one place for ONCE was a bit too much to resist. So that means nine hours of traffic each way, tons of crazy family all in one place and lots of food. I'm excited.

I'm Allergic to the Desert

Do you have allergies? Do you know what it's like to wake up with puffy, red eyes, disoriented and exhausted? (And no, if you're a drinker, hangovers don't count!)

As a kid I'd watched my mother suffer through allergies constantly but I never had a problem with them. I mean, I don't have allergies! At least that's what I thought until I woke up in my hotel room Tuesday morning in Arizona. Wham! Red, puffy eyes, tired.... you get the picture. It was utterly new and bizarre to me. As soon as I stopped going back to bed for another quick nap, I hauled my butt down to the giftshop and bought precisely this: 3 bottles of water and two packs of Benadryl. Knowing that I was a bit out of it, I read the label repeatedly until I ascertained that the drug would not make me drowsy. I had to shoot a video that afternoon and drive a rental car and needed to be awake. It looked safe, but as I was about to proceed I remembered one instance with my Mother up in the mountains - her allergies acted up BIG TIME and she was given Benadryl, which promptly knocked her out and she slept for the next two days. So I read the label for the fifty-first time and found this:
WARNING: may cause marked drowsiness.
Great.
I took one instead of the recommended two.
Twenty minutes later I felt much better. Phew!
As shocking as my previously undiscovered allergy to the desert was to me, the trip was actually quite lovely!

Normally business trips suck. Normally they mean 10-14 hour workdays and zero chance of any sightseeing. But I have to admit that even with all of their suckage, I'd rather be across the country on a business trip than not on one at all. I like getting out and moving around! It makes me appreciate my house so much more. And my bed. Except for the cleaning up after myself part. That sucks. I also love the fact that all expenses are paid on business trips, meaning: I come home (usually a week later) and find that my bank account has a LOT more money in it that it would if I'd stayed home. Nice. Hellloooo vacation fund!

This trip was different. It was only two days. It was enjoyable. Dare I say it? It was fun.
I flew in to Phoenix on Monday morning. It's an easy 1.5 hour flight from SFO. After picking up my rental car (brand-spanking new little Chevy Equinox, thank you very much!) I headed over to my hotel. I expected Arizona to be stifilingly dry and dusty, with giant, looming dust clouds overhead. Nope. It was hot and sunny and the sky was a gorgeous shade of blue. The hotel I stayed at was an oasis of green, perfectly manicured lawns and beautiful, brightly-colored flowers.

One of the perks of corporate travel is the easy (and free) memberships to rewards clubs. I say easy because the rewards points generally accumulate much faster for corporations than normal, private travelers. The hotel/travel chains do that on purpose to attract corporate travel to their franchise. It's big business. And so, with my "Elite" membership status, I meandered up to the eagerly waiting "Elite membership specialist," gave her my name and she handed me package stay details, free access to the special spa and gym and the key to an upgraded king suite on the top floor overlooking the pool, gardens and golf course. I headed up and found this waiting for me:

Ahhhhh... Life is good! The bed beckoned immediately and I obligingly fell fast asleep. I had, after all, been up at 4am in order to catch my flight. And I didn't have to do anything for work until the next day! That never happens!

Post-naptime brought me to donning a swimsuit (horror!) and heading out to the pool complex. I planted myself on a deck-chair and read for a good hour while enjoying a poolside service of one mango smoothie and one bowl of berries with lemon-mint yogurt for lunch. YUM.

Seem extravagant? It does to me too. However, when I booked my hotel room, I found a deal online at my favorite travel website, travelzoo. The deal included a $100 room credit and free breakfast. Done and done! Oh room service, can you hear me calling??? (I actually didn't call room service once! Mother would be shocked. Dad would be proud.)

After doing a few laps on the lazy river and then drying out in the sun, I headed up to my suite and took another nap. That's right. My favorite pastime (besides traveling): napping while traveling. Yup. After my nap, I was two things: hungry and tired. Why in the world would I be tired? Bring on the Allergies! So I went to the gym.
An hour later, feeling much better about going to dinner, I left the gym and dressed to go to the restaurant my brother recommended: Roy's.
Never heard of Roy's? I hadn't either. But after eating there, I recognize the error of my ignorance! YUM. YUM. YUM. Hawaiian fusion food. Oh heavenly bliss. I savored the seasoned Edamame. inhaled the Grilled Endive, Apple and Gorgonzola salad with Pomegranate dressing. And then, the Pièce de résistance: Roasted Macadamia Nut Crusted Mahi Mahi with cognac lobster butter sauce.  Oh my!

I left fat and happy. Which, I do believe, is the point of Hawaiian anything. A bit of balcony-sitting, some on-demand watching of Harry Potter, a bit of giant-bathtub soaking/bookreading and off to bed in time for a good eleven hours of sleep.

WHAT? Eleven hours? That's right. Thine eyes doth not deceive you. I owe it to those lovely allergies. Eleven hours of sleep brings me right back to the beginning of this post: red-eyed.

Skimming through Tuesday took me through my video shoot (which was a ton of fun), an authentic Arizona-mexican feast (including tacos, tamales, beans and rice! Yum! - but still no Cafe Rio) with my work co-parts and then on to Camelback mountain for some hiking!

Camelback was pretty intense! It's only 1.5 miles each way. But geesh! It's akin to the stairs on the Mist trail to Yosemite (which I hate and loathe with the passion of a thousand burning desert suns. I love to hike. I HATE tedious, vertical climbs). Maybe worse. There are sections that are just rock face - no stairs, nearly straight up. Nearly rock-climbing. Add to the mix: DRY heat. 92 degrees, and I forgot my Bandana at home. I did remember my Camelback water bladder though, thankfully! (THANK YOU KELLY!)

Add this up: Allergies, 1,800 feet in extra elevation that I wasn't used to and one determined-to-hike the d@&! mountain. You get what? One sweaty, exhausted Christy headed straight to the airport. Probably not the best idea in the history of ideas.


In my allergy/benadryl fog, I neglected to do the following in the right order: 1. Remove clean clothes from suitcase and place in carry-on bag. 2. Check suitcase. 3. Change into clean clothes. 4. Proceed through security to flight and go home.

Instead, I did this: 1. Check suitcase. 2. Proceed through security. 2b. Feel extremely self-conscious when I had to remove my sweater and the guy behind me saw my t-shirt drenched in post-desert-hike back sweat. Yum. 3. Head to restroom to change. 4. Realize I'm a sweaty idiot without a change of clothes.

In hindsight, I think I should have gone hiking on Monday. But logically, going Tuesday was the only way to get everything done that I wanted to do (pool lounging, reading, sleeping and Roy's - you know, just the essentials!). Knowing now how it all panned out, I'd do it all again. Except I'd remember to put fresh clothes in my carry-on. And I'd remember my bandana. They really are quite helpful in sweaty situations when worn across ones' forehead.

I'd go back to Arizona. Well, I'd go back if Florida had somehow been severed from the continental US and Hawaii and the Caribbean islands all sank. So pretty much that means I'm not voluntarily going back to Arizona for a vacation. Shame, because I rather liked it!

A couple more pix:

 So apparently I'm not creative enough to have seen the praying priest in Camelback mountain. I'm not bothered. I can't see 3-D either. BUT, I did find the above gem. Doesn't it look like there's a ginormous T-Rex skull in the rock?