Jen's Adventures

Hawaii

2012-01-09T03:24:00.012-05:00

For Christmas this year I got the best present: A trip to Hawaii to see my family! There were a lot of memorable moments and laughter whether we were hiking, eating, competing at an inside joke game, or just hanging at the hotel. Hawaii is a beautiful state and we spent a lot of time wandering around to the different beaches hidden among the lava rocks. Some of my favorite moments:

Horseback riding: All of our horses behaved a bit like children with babysitters. Drifter, my little pony, did not want to stay close enough to my sisters horse although he was very responsive to any other lead. My brothers horse did a sneak attack on a banana tree. My sisters horse was ready to walk the track and did not want to wait for the rest of the crowd. Anyone that has worked with horses will tell you that they are distinct individuals. We also learned a lot about the history of Maui while riding into the valley.

Snorkeling: We traveled to Molokini Crater, a submerged volcano previously used for target practice by the navy. Now it shelters numerous fish and coral. Even my dad came out snorkeling even though he is terrified of swimming. My siblings and I got to go Snuba diving where you breath through a regulator while the air tank is on a raft. Rob ruptured his eardrum while snorkeling and so had a hard time with the Snuba. We saw a few turtles and heard the whales singing.

Road to Hana: We took the road years ago on my first trip to Hawaii and I had been very disappointed. The trees were overgrown so there were no good views. However, other people must have agreed with me because this year there were multiple areas where the trees had been trimmed offering beautiful snapshots. The real treasure of the road to Hana is off the actual road. We went to a black sand beach and climbed through and on a lava tube.

Whale Watching: We had ocean facing balconies so got to watch whales while relaxing. The whales migrate to Hawaii in the northern hemisphere's winter so there were a lot of them. Every time they showed up the whole breach froze to watch. For the first time I saw a whale breach.

Tradition

2011-12-22T05:57:00.007-05:00

Traditions keep us grounded, connecting us to happy memories and people we love. The holiday season is normally filled with customs. This year being across the the world means none of my normal traditions have happened. As I plan to stay in Australia for at least another couple of years, it will be interesting to see if some of the things I've done this year will become my new holiday traditions.

New Years: As a teenager I always went to my friend LC's house with another friend AC (now AVB). New Years was a special time where we could catch up, hang out in the hot tub even in the snow, eat raw brownie mix and frosting, and dance around to 'You Don't Own Me'. We did the same thing for nine years. Like all good traditions, it was a way to create the familiar no matter what else was happening in our lives. Boys changed, what we did earlier in the night changed, schools changed, our relationship with our family changed, we were teenagers after all, but New Years was our night. Eventually, we changed. AC got married and the three of us moved to different cities. I never found a New Years Eve tradition to replace those times with the girls. Every year since then has been something and somewhere different. This year I will be with my family is Hawaii, almost the last place in the world to hit midnight.

Easter: I always found Easter to be a more relaxed holiday, maybe because I never did the cooking. In the morning we would look for our Easter baskets, which I still do if I am visiting my family. We would dye eggs making way too many. We would attend church and then have a bunch of people over to eat at our house, including some international students whom my mom invited over to experience a typical American holiday. The younger children would search for Easter eggs hidden in the yard that were filled with candy and money. I do not know what I will do this year.

July 4th: As children, we would go to my grandparent's plot of land. All of the extended family would be there plus family friends and people I had never met before. When we were little we used to take rides in the back of the lawnmover and destroy multiple kickballs when they were kicked into the rose bushes. As we got older we participated in volleyball, crochet, bean bag toss, lawn golf, and horseshoes. I'm sure it will come as no surprise I come from a fairly competitive family. At night we would watch fireworks singing patriotic songs. This year I ran around Sydney chasing a person in a duck costume.

Halloween: I didn't celebrate Halloween as a child. I went trick or treating once as an adult as a pirate although nobody could tell under all the winter gear I had to wear in Buffalo. Anytime I need a quick costume I tend to be a pirate. When I lived in NYC I would go to my friends M+K's house for a murder mystery night. Last year I got killed off three times. This year I went to a Halloween party again as a pirate.

Thanksgiving: For a few years after my family moved to New York, we would travel back to Ohio to see the extended family. We would have a huge thanksgiving dinner and play a lot of games. The next morning my uncles would cook breakfast and we would celebrate Christmas, exchanging gifts while the whole family was in town. We stopped going back to Ohio as we grew older and schedules got more difficult to arrange. Instead we went to a Thanksgiving Eve service and then my group of friends would go out to eat or dancing. On Thanksgiving my mom would host a large group of family friends. The next morning mom and I would head out in the early hours of the morning to take advantage of Black Friday sales. While I lived in NYC, I got to host Thanksgiving and we went to see the Macy's day parade. This year I went out to dinner with friends who were gracious enough to humor me when I asked them to go around the table and say something they were thankful for. The next morning I skyped my family and was a floating head in a laptop at the table. On Black Friday, I went to the American expat pot luck under the Harbour Bridge.

Christmas: Growing up I never believed in Santa Claus, a fact I used as a bragging point in grade school. On Christmas Eve my brother and I would go last minute Christmas shopping and out to eat. While I usually had almost all of my gifts, I would purposely leave at least one more to get to have the chance to hang out just the two of us. There was a Christmas Eve candlelight service at church where after the carols were sung my family would cause trouble by trying to blow each others candles out in a 'King of the Mountain' type face off. We would watch a couple of Christmas movies and head to bed. In the early hours of Christmas morning, 4:30am one year, my sister and I would sneak downstairs and exchange our gifts to each other by the light of the tree. My brother would join us and we would empty our stockings and watch 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas'. We would wait until the required time of 7:30 before waking our parents in creative although usually obnoxious ways. Now that I am older I realize they were already awake but did their bit to keep the tradition by not coming out of their room until we 'woke' them. We would open presents and mom would cook us breakfast, getting too little appreciation for the full buffet she presented. Dad would go through all the wrapping paper to make sure any little pieces were not lost. We would play with our toys, even toys we got as adults. This year I will spend Christmas on the beach with other holiday orphans then fly over to Hawaii to see my family for the first time in six months. By crossing the international date line, I get 48 hours of Christmas on the beach with family and friends.

While the actual event has changed throughout the year, as have the participants, the true traditions, and the purpose behind them, is to connect with those whom you love and who love you.

I wish you a Christmas filled with wonderful traditions and the creation of new memories.

Full-on

2011-12-07T02:18:00.000-05:00

October and November have been full on, a grateful change from August where I was just working as a waitress every night. The weather is leading into summer but still ranges from 18 to the perfect 26 to 34 degrees. Yes, I talk in Celsius now. And kg. Although I still mix up writing dates, looking the right way before crossing the street, and understanding km and cm conversions. Some of the best moments:

1) NaNoWriMo- I finished a 50K book. Granted, nobody will be allowed to read it... possibly ever. It is tragically bad but there are some glimmers of purpose and promise starting to show. I have a greater understanding of what it takes to write a book and a much higher respect for authors, even authors with crap books. It is tough!

2) TESOL- I have started taking an online TESOL certification course. I have no idea where it will lead. So far I have learned what it means to be a good teacher and that, like most Americans, I have no idea about proper English grammar.

3) Sculpture by the Sea- Over 100 sculptures were placed along the cliffs between Bondi and Coodiee beach. It made for a gorgeous backgroup to some beautiful pieces.

4) The Races- Went to see the horses race at Ranwick Race Course. Won once. I felt sophisticated and European in my fascinator and couldn't help thinking of My Fair Lady throughout the day.

5) One of my friends works at the Sydney Opera House and she has given me tickets to a couple of shows. One had an intense story line, one was a classical opera, and one was based on "Of Mice and Men" I learned that I prefer the more classical Italian operas.

6) Thanksgiving- The American Expat group hosted a pot luck Thanksgiving dinner, under the Harbour Bridge, in the rain. An interesting side note: Most Aussies I have talked to think Thanksgiving is a bigger holiday than Christmas in America. I can say that in my brief pole of fellow Americans no one has agreed with this. Interesting how cultural mentalities are misunderstood. However, when I watch tv (where most ideas of America are grounded) every sitcom has a Thanksgiving episode and far fewer have Christmas episodes so it is understandable.

This is the longest that I have been away from my family and I miss them terribly. I always went home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and it has been a tradition for years to go shopping with my mom on Black Friday. My little sister is now engaged, my little brother is getting ready to graduate college. In exactly 19 days (maybe 18 since I cross the international date line) I will get to see my family. :D That smile isn't big enough.

7) Organized a hike to the "Grand Canyons" of Australia, the Blue Mountains with 44 people. I miss the Fall with the leaves changing color, the pumpkin carving, and the corn mazes, but at least there is still hiking here.

8) Went Paddleboarding. At first our legs were shaking but almost everyone got the hang of it by the end. There were surprisingly few oar fights.

9) Organized a scavenger hunt around Sydney. I got to wander around the city looking for places for the teams to find. I enjoyed creating the event and working out all the details. There were 39 contestants and even in the rain it seemed like the teams had fun. Plus as judges we got to make them do funny things wheelbarrow races in a very public place.

10) Moved Apartments. I was living with 9 other people in a 2 bedroom flat. We had nationalities from all over the globe. Even with my extroverted nature I am surprised I lasted as long as I did. That makes 4 jobs and 3 apartments in 5 months for those keeping track.

11) Met with some people about sponsored jobs. There isn't a lot more to say about that yet because I am still trying to figure out this part of the transition.

December is already filling up with Chrissy parties, optimistically more stability, and Hawaii with my family!

Novel

2011-11-01T01:00:00.000-04:00

"Let's go on dreaming, though we know we are." ~'So Close' from Enchanted

November is National Novel Writing Month. NaNoWriMo is an online community of prospective authors who try to write a complete novel from scratch during the month of November. I will be joining them, along with my friend AM and my mom. I have a basic idea of some of the characters and some thoughts on the plot running around in my head. No official outline yet but I'll see what comes out.

I wrote stories all the time as a child. Some where dark like a murder mystery based on the 13 Dead End Drive board game. Others were light and happy as in the case of Tommy the Go-Cart. Then the desire got lost. Correction, I ignored it. In college I started comparing myself to friends who also loved to write. I saw and envied the way they captured normal moments with a descriptive flare. I didn't form complexly worded sentences or tap into the depth of the tortured artist. So I thought I couldn't be a writer; that is was just a childish dream.

But then I started this blog and realized that while I don't write in a style suitable for the classics such as Les Mis or Rebecca, I have a style all my own; a style which captures my optimistic nature, mimics the way my brain thinks complete with topic jumps, and an easy style that people can relate to. Though I guess since I am starting my TESOL certification (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) I should change that last phrase to "and an easy style to which people can relate." My blog has brought back my love of writing as a way of storytelling, and the old dream of being a writer.

As the goal is 50,000 words in a month this will be my only blog entry for November. Every word written here is one not written in my novel. Being an author is still a childish dream and I'm thankful it is. All the best dreams are made when we are children and don't understand limitations.

SCUBA

2011-10-22T00:26:00.001-04:00

SCUBA is short for self-contained underwater breathing apparatus. I've wanted to get certified since my sister and I went snuba diving with the sea turtles in Hawaii years ago. Snuba is similar to scuba in that you are completely submerged but the air tank is on a raft on the surface instead of on your back.

I'm getting my PADI certification with True Blue Dives over three Thursdays at the local beaches in the eastern suburbs.

Dive #1: A snorkel dive just to get (re)acquainted with the concept of breathing while your face is in the water.

Biggest Challenge: Relaxing when breathing.

My brain goes into the annoying, although appropriate, habit of trying to not let me die. Breathing in while your face is underwater goes against that idea logically. I could hear each ragged breath. The first breath was a timid trial and the second actually brought air to my lungs.

Scariest Moment: Swimming next to jellyfish.

First they are difficult to see unless you are right next to them. Second they have translucent trailing pieces that can hurt you. My Australian friends love talking about all the things that can kill you in this country but in a calm relaxed manner. In fact, I bring up box jellies or snakes purposely just to see their faces light up with pride. I'm adding the jellyfish lake to my list of places I want to visit. Nothing like facing your fears to help move past them.

Most Enjoyable Moment: Realizing how much easier it is to swim with flippers.

Dive #2: Scuba Intro Unlike other scuba certification classes, True Blue Dive takes you right into the ocean, no pool time.

Lesson #1: How to assemble all the pieces of the equipment and how to carry 70 pounds on your back to the shore.

Lesson #2: Hand signals.

Lesson #3: How to clear our goggles and regulator while submerged.

Lesson #4: How to move up and down without relying on the BCD. The buoyancy control device is a fancy vest attached to the air tank that can fill or deflate.

Scariest Moment: The first breath after clearing the regulator while submerged.

After a bit, my brain almost ignored the "Don't breath underwater" rule. But after taking the regulator out of my mouth, letting it fill with water, putting it back in my mouth, and clearing it, my brain reinstated the rule. Each and every time.

Funniest Moment: Getting into the ocean

We had to get our flippers on while standing in ankle deep water (knee deep when the waves hit) while also balancing on rocks with 70 pounds on our backs and then make it past the submerged rocks that kept coming out of nowhere and into the open ocean. I got stuck on more than a few rocks. Ocean +6 Jen +1. I gave myself a point since I did technically make it to the ocean even though my execution was a bit awkward.

Most Enjoyable Moment: Petting a shark.

Some might think that this would be the scariest moment but he was only about three feet long and I stayed away from the teeth. Then we followed him to an overhang where there were four more larger sharks just hanging out. They eat shells not people so as long as our fingers didn't end up in their mouths it was okay. Sharks are coarse like sandpaper not slimy like fish. And I'll admit the fact that I'm more scared of jellyfish than sharks is a bit odd.

At this point I don't think Scuba will be an obsession but check back with me after dive #6. I want to get certified so I can go to the Great Barrier Reef with some friends. Plus, no matter where I am in the world, when the desire to scuba hits me on a whim, I can just go.

Walkabout

2011-10-18T15:07:00.004-04:00

A walkabout is an Australian rite of passage for Aboriginal men. It may originially have just been a trip across the Outback for boring reasons such as business meetings but it has come to be viewed as a spiritual trek. When you go out into one of the most unforgiving environments on the planet, it becomes spiritual.

The concept of the walkabout remains in Australian culture. Teenagers and young adults are encouraged to travel, to "walk about" the world before they come back to Oz. The term 'gap-year' is used quite frequently, and while not a strickly Australian concept, it is something that is looked upon favorably here.

There is something about this country that stays with you. Everyone I spoke to about Australia before moving here said they wanted to spend more time here or wanted to come back for another visit. Two of my friends who did a wilderness excursion into the outback with NOLS, talk about it fondly, like it happened only last year. It is a country that leaves it mark on your heart. Yes, that might seem a bit melodramatic, but if you've ever been here... you know.

I'm on my own walkabout. I have no idea where I will be in a year or what path to take. There are still so many options that I am stuck in a Paradox of Choice. I can't figure out what ice cream flavor I want much less figure out my future. And this too is part of the process. I've come to realize that intentionally creating my life applies in spite of the uncertainty, now more than ever.

The topic of failure has come up a lot in conversations, blogs I follow, and the constant whirl of thoughts in my head. As a generation we don't know how to fail. Everyone gets trophies in sports; teachers can't write in red pen.

But real self esteem comes from knowing when (not if) you fall on your face, you have the strength to get back up and try again. In those moments it's about whether I give up or get up. I'm learning when to quit things that aren't good for me and when to persevere. I'm learning how to balance the desire for financial security with the motivation to fully experience this country. Years from now, no matter where I end up, I'll be sharing stories from my walkabout.

Festivals

2011-10-11T18:26:00.004-04:00

Australians love festivals. Each one is promoted heavily and attracts thousands of people. In the past 3.5 months I've been to the aroma (coffee) festival, the winter festival, the "Art and About" festival, the Brazilian festival, and the night noodle markets at the food festival. Next week I am going to the Fringe Festival.

The highlights of the festivals for me have nothing to do with the festival itself but the people I went with. I don't really like trying new food and I hate coffee and I refuse to spend $40 to skate around a really tiny portable ice rink. But I do like trying to get more free samples of chai latte, developing a whole documentary on homelessness in Australia, forming a circle under a tree because enough tables aren't available, or trying to imitate the samba.

Visas

2011-09-10T02:51:00.007-04:00

I’m a little overwhelmed by the visa process. Hopefully by writing it out and sharing in my blog I can gain a little clarity.

(Found this sign near the Kings Cross fountain. Accurate picture of how I feel right now)

Recently, I’ve been going to a lot of networking events and immigration lawyers. While I have been working, I haven’t been hired at a job that can lead to sponsorship and the ability to stay in Australia after June 2012. Fellow Americans seem to fall into four categories: They are here on a Work and Holiday Visa and only plan on staying a year, they are a student, they or their spouse work for an American company that moved them here for 6-18 months, or they have been here more than four years before the immigration policies changed. It seems difficult to find a sponsored visa once here. It may have something to do with the first question on every application being “Are you an Australian citizen or permanent resident?”

Basically, I have four options:

Option A Work and Holiday Visa: I can approach this year as a sabbatical or gap year. Filler jobs are easy to get and pay surprisingly well since Australia has a living wage versus a minimum wage. I can take the whole year, travel around Australia (scuba!), NZ (absailing!), and the little known country of Vanuatu (volcano surfing!) then move back to a random city in the US and start again.
Option B Student Visa: Because the US has such strict immigration policies, I cannot stay longer by working at fruit picking, nor can I take a single course at a time to get a student visa. I would have to be a student full time for at least two years. I don’t have the money or desire to get another degree.
Option C Employer Sponsored Visa: I can work at filler jobs while applying to companies that may provide me with a temporary (4 year) employer sponsored visa. This would allow me to stay in Sydney, hopefully doing something I love. It isn’t easy to get. Employers and the specific job have to qualify based on a select list. Companies don’t like to have all their inner workings reviewed by the immigration office. Not saying it is impossible, just highly unlikely. If it doesn’t work out, option A moves into effect.
Option D State Sponsored Visa: Because I have my MSW, I can qualify for a state sponsored visa. This area of immigration has changed drastically in the past few years, even just within this past year. When I applied for my initial visa a year ago, an MSW gave me a lot of points on a skilled assessment test, helping move my application along. By the time I moved here, however, social work was removed from the Sydney SOL (Skilled Occupation List). Therefore without an Employer Sponsored Visa I cannot stay in Sydney. In order to get a State Sponsored Visa, I have to be sponsored by the Western Australian government, who just added social work to their SOL yesterday. It is an expensive process but would allow me to stay in Australia an additional three years.

I have to make a decision soon to start the appropriate visa application. Unfortunately I cannot pursue both option C and D at the same time. I have to choose a path. Do I keep trying for an Employer visa hoping to beat the odds? Or do I go for the more expensive State Visa which has a better chance of success but I would have to move to another city just as I’m finally hitting my stride in Sydney? Or do I just drop it all and take the easy way out, the gap year.

…

I still have no idea. Bummer.

Slang

2011-08-17T01:42:00.009-04:00

I've met people from all over the world, drawn to each other by common outlooks on travel and adventure. Often conversation trends towards accents and slang words. Endless time can be spent repeating each other trying to echo the accents.

Most Aussie slang can be understood by taking off a syllable or two and adding an 'o' or a 'y' to the end of the word. Apparently, according to my friend A.H. this is the same style as the Cockney slang. Must be something related to the prison background. I have yet to figure out if this is something that shouldn't be brought up or it should with pride. I'm sure there is more but because so much of conversation is actually non-verbal sometimes I don't pick up when slang is being used because the context is clear.

Some slang I've easily adopted:

'Oz' Pertaining to the land of Australia

'Aussie' An Australian, also a way of doing things that is distinctly Australian.

'No Worries' It doesn't matter, also used as you're welcome

'Ta' Thank you. I love this one because it sounds so similar to 'Tea Da' how I used to say thank you as a child.

'Roo' Kangaroo

Kiwi Someone from New Zealand

Sunnies Sunglasses

Others I've heard:

'She'll be apples' It's okay. It will work out.

'Seppo' An american. Insulting. A nickname for Americans is Yankee which can be shorted to Yank. That rhymes with septic tank and shortened to Seppo.

'Avro' Afternoon

'Relo' Relatives

'No dramas' The younger version of 'No worries'. Slang of the slang as it were.

'Ranga' A redhead. Short for orangutans.

'Squib' Coward. Something those of us in the SAAG Meetup (Sydney Action & Adventure Group) group refuse to be.

'Middy' A drink of middle size.

'Maccas' McDonalds

'Bottlo' Liquor store

'Chips' french fries in the States

'Westie' Someone from the western suburbs. Insulting use: uneducated, not classy.

'Fair Dinkum' genuine

'Footy' Either Rugby, Australian rules football, or soccer. I have no idea which.

'On ya mate' Not sure and didn't ask. Seemed sarcastic.

'Jumper' Sweater, sweatshirt, light jacket, or cardigan depending on what is needed.

'Servo' Gas station

'Loo' or 'Dunny' Toilet

'Knackered' Tired

To easy Said when taking someones phone number or answering any kind of question

Blow'n A blow in, a commuter or someone not from the area

Ones I'm waiting to hear:

'Beano' A celebration

'Chinwag' A conversation

'Jingoes' surprise

'Rack off' Go away

'Billabong' Watering hole

Frustrations

2011-08-09T19:44:00.007-04:00

I've hit the six week or 7-mile slump. I realize the frustrations I'm facing now are a part of the journey. In a transition as drastic as the one I've made, disappointment and struggle should be expected. Many things have flowed so easily in this experience, from getting a visa to finding a place to live, that I forgot to be on guard for moments of "Oh crap, what exactly did I get myself into." It doesn't mean this was a mistake. I am still mid-jump like the picture my dad took, unsure of how the landing will be.

I called it the 7-mile slump because it feels like when I was running the marathon. At mile 7, the initial hype and excitement were gone as were the supporters. It was just me, the pavement, and a long field. I felt the same way when I first moved to NYC. Around week 6, the thrill is diminishing, but the social network hasn't been fully developed yet. I get out as often as I can for meet-ups, ballroom dancing, and just to take in the sites. But meaningful relationships, take time. And time is the one thing I don't know if I'll have.

Right now the job market is difficult for an immigrant. Many jobs are open only to permanent residents. Catch-22, I can't become a permanent resident until I've lived here for a few years. While my job provides enough to live here and even have a little fun, it isn't something that can lead to a longer position when my visa expires. The thought of having to potentially move somewhere else and rebuild a network... again... sucks, plain and simple.

Is it worth the risk of making real friends given the uncertainty about the future? When I.S. and I started dating, the plan was already in place to move to Australia. Was it worth dating knowing I would be leaving in a few months? The answer is absolutely. Without that risk, I would have missed out on an amazing relationship with an equally amazing guy and not had all the fun, support, and laughter the relationship brought. So even if I leave in a year, being willing to invest in friendships is always the better option.

So that is where I am. Aside from the ambiguity I'm having a blast. I have fun people, beautiful weather, and kangaroos, what's not to love. This whole experience is about creating the life I want. That takes a bit of work, a few tears, and a little flexibility. Here's to landing on the other side of the crevice I jumped. And if not, at least having some pretty flowers and a story to share wherever I do land.

Settled

2011-07-18T08:36:00.004-04:00

Settled… or not. One of the biggest things I knew before starting this adventure was to have plans but allow them to be fluid and change as necessary. If I had had time to write last Friday I would have said that I was completely established in Sydney. Perhaps this was too big a feat to achieve in about two weeks. Within the past week a couple of things have shifted. But I’m not stressed about it. In fact, this whole process has still been surprisingly easy. In many ways I feel like I’ve been in Sydney for much longer than three weeks. I am working, meeting new people, living in a nice apartment, and can navigate the basic transportation system. I don’t know what the future holds, if I’m staying here or moving again in a year. But I can deal with that another time. For now, this is completely where I need to be and I am so happy that I took this chance. There have been a few moments of home sickness, especially when I was away from Sydney, disconnected from even the smallest contact with friends and family back in the States that I miss. There have been moments of utter contentment, especially when the weekends are nice. What I have not experienced in any way is regret.

Some of the things I’ve been doing:

Climbed the Pylon lookout of the Harbor Bridge. The real climb over the bridge is $200 so I’m going to skip that one. Once you’ve jumped from a plane, being tied to a bridge just doesn’t have the same thrill. There have been over 200 proposals at the top of the bridge. Apparently, it is only 60% effective as a proposal spot. The problem: if she says no you still have to walk down the other side tied to each other. The lookout, however, has some beautiful views.

Saw the Sydney Opera house and the Royal Botanical Gardens. Tried to see the view from Sydney Tower and was told by the desk lady that she just couldn’t let my group in because we were not dressed nice enough.

Saw the aquarium and wildlife park. Platypuses (Platypi?) are smaller than I expected, koalas are super cute, and I got as close as I need to a crocodile and a shark, until I go shark diving of course.

Went to the capital of Australia, Canberra. It is a terribly boring city that will be celebrating its 100^th anniversary in two years. On the way I saw a city advertising a population of 150 people, one fifth the size of my high school graduation class. The 10 year anniversary is coming up this year. When did I become an adult?

Saw my first real life kangaroos in the wild. Actually ran outside my hotel in the cold morning air and wanted to chase after them, and when that couldn’t happen, found myself imitating their hops. Maybe I’m not such an adult.

Went to see an aboriginal tree carving exhibit at the state (NSW) library.

Found an apartment, had an apartment party with my new friends plus a bunch of people I met when they showed up at my door with the previously mentioned new friends. Then moved into a nicer apartment.

Joined an ultimate freebie team.

Chased a person dressed up in a duck costume around the city with forks and plastic bags for no apparent reason but to have a blast with a bunch of other crazy people.

Arrival

2011-06-23T07:40:00.003-04:00

Finishing up my first day in Australia. In about half an hour a group from my hostel will be making its nightly social organized outing. Tonight incidentally, is to a place called Soho.

Travel was uneventful, a ease unknown to me. Asiana Airlines is sufficient. Meals were pretty poor but service was good. It is pronounced Ásian-a vs a-si-á-na which I still think sounds cooler. I got a shuttle to my hostel right away.

I haven’t experienced a grand moment where I realize I’m an immigrant trying to move to another country with a very fluid if not sparse plan. But this is how I’ve always been. It never ‘hits’ me in a definable moment. I can be present in terms of location very easily. My mind adjusts quickly to wherever I am. There isn’t a huge anxiety ridden excitement but more of a calm acceptance and peace with a bit of excitement. I’m where I am supposed to be at this time in my life. This is home now. Or it will be very soon.

I spent the day lounging at my hostel, talking with fellow travelers, briefly checking of email, playing billiards, taking a quick nap that I wish could have been longer. My hostel is great. Jackaroo is ranked #3 on Hostel World and I can see why. The owners are very present making improvements and talking to guests. Each night there are planned social events and they provide free internet.

I also wandered around the town. I’m in Sydney but it is divided into distinct neighborhoods or suburbs. Right now I am in Kings Cross, truly a crossroads of the up and coming neighborhood and the desire to stay seedy. Walk a few blocks in one direction and hit a row of cheap cell phone stores and strip clubs. Walk the other way and find charming bistros and parks. I’m pleased to note that my sense of direction does seem to be better here even without a grid. It was 180 degrees wrong at all times in the US. My hope is that since bodies are 78% water (or something to that effect) and the water flows that other way here (a fact I have yet to verify) that my body was just attuned to the wrong hemisphere before.

A few other things I’ve noticed:

Nobody crosses the street before the walk sign is on. In NYC if you were not already half way across at that point you are late. I’ve already found myself alone in the middle of the road a few times. The road in which I might get run over because I have not gotten used to looking the right way.

Moving in winter was not a problem. It is sunny and spring like.

I will be eating a lot of noodles or the equivalent because food is expensive.

Rent is cheaper but you also have less bedroom space than NYC. It does seem there are more common areas in the same apartments.

It has a noticeably different vibe than NYC (sarcastic “surprise” to that observation). I also don’t think it is quite like Boston or DC either. Granted, these observations are made after a day lost in the travel time vortex and while staying in a predominantly backpacker area of town.

For the next few days my plan is to get an apartment, tax number, and wander around aimlessly taking in all the new sights.

Realizations

2011-06-11T18:34:00.002-04:00

I’m in preparation mood for Australia. With only 10 days to go I’m busy packing, dinners, parties, looking for apartments, and selling off even more stuff. Even thought I haven’t taken off yet, the journey of an immigrant has been an interesting one. No matter what happens once I land, this process has been amazing and well worth it. I’ve realized a bunch of things:

I’ve realized how small the world has become: So many people I know have already been to Australia or know somebody who lives there giving me a host of people to contact once I land.

I’ve realized it is so important to have people to support you: I have people who love me and will let me cry, vent, or babble on in excitement no matter what the emotion of the minute may be. I know there are people in my life who support me.

I’ve realized moments of connection can happen when you are open to them: After deciding to move to Australia I meant a few people in unexpected places. A friend of a friend I met after a kickball game gave me the suggestion of the Visa that enabled me to leave. While visiting my boyfriend in DC I met a girl who just moved from Sydney to NYC.

I’ve realized how things can come back around: I got my Masters in Social Welfare almost four years ago. It was a difficult time in my life but I think its important to finish what you start. Turns out a MSW gets a 60 out of 60 points in the Aussie scale for education needed to get a Visa.

I’ve realized how attached I am to material possessions: I’m attempting to whittle my stuff down to two suitcases, plus the box at my parent’s house. I can and will live with less clutter.

I’ve realized our lives are constantly in transition: Whether that is moving, looking for or starting a new job, buying a house, getting in or out of a romantic relationship, having a baby, making new friends, everyone has change in life.

I've realized craigslist people can be crazy: The person buying my tv asking if I had closets, the old man who wants to tell me that everything I owe is crap do I want to sell it for $5, the lady whose cat, dog, bug, boyfriend, boss, and herself all had to go to the er instead of saying she no longer wanted the rug...

I’ve realized there can be joy even in uncertainty: I don’t know what is going to happen. But I do know that it will be amazing. If you face fears and challenges, what you get out of it is its own reward and sets the stage for great things to happen.

Australia

2011-05-20T12:49:00.007-04:00

It is now official. I am moving to Australia June 21st, 2011.

First I’ll clear up the most common questions:

1) Are you going for work? No
2) Do you know anyone there? Not yet
3) Have you ever been? Nope
4) So why are you going? Why Not?

Awhile ago I came across a quote that has become my email sign off and the guiding principle in my life. “Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” ~ George Bernard Shaw. Having fully embraced my adventurous side, I want to live in the place where that mentality seems to thrive. Not necessarily following the prescribed life course but joining those people who make their own path. Mine is about creating the life I want, which is one of calculated risk, of movement, of joy, of connections, and of adventure. Why not try something new? In this case the new thing is literally moving across the world with two suitcases and a little tenacity.

I’ve never been to Australia but I’ve wanted to for a long time. I’ve kept journals since I could write. The past few months I’ve reread each one and scanned them onto my computer. When I was 16 I had a journal with questions for each day. One nondescript day it asked “If you could live anywhere where would you live?” My answer was “I want to live in an international city, like NYC. Or Australia” Years later I forgot I wrote that, but the desire never left. Australia was a brief thought for graduate school that never materialized. Now, it’s actually happening.

At this point in my life I have the ability to get up and go. I don’t have a mortgage, a husband or kids, or anything else tying me to a specific location. I got a working holiday visa which I have to use before I’m 30.

I am aware that this can be a bad idea. I could hate it, I could not get a full time position, things could go wrong… BUT… things could go so right. I could love it, I could get the job that I really want, it could be the best decision of my life. There is potential for something amazing to happen which I’d never see if I play it safe. No matter what the result, I will approach everything else in my life knowing that I didn’t back down from a risk when I wanted something.

It will be challenging. But very few things in life are worth it without struggle. I’ve loved the time that I’ve been in NYC. It is exactly where I should have been for the past three and a half years. I am so grateful for the experiences and friends I’ve made here. I’m leaving, not a different person, but more fully myself. Ready for the next chapter. And with an open couch for visitors as soon as I get a couch.

Stuff

2011-05-12T11:23:00.000-04:00

A particular situation in my life has caused me to take inventory of everything I own. And I mean every little thing, from makeup to candles, pictures to books, prom dresses to ‘I’m not even sure what this is?’ items on a shelf. My conclusion: I have a lot of stuff.

To avoid the mental illness of a hoarder in the future, it’s time for a major spring cleaning undertaking. Looking at each item as objectively as possible and deciding if I would want to take it if I moved. As I've grown up from my childhood room at my parents house, to a dorm room, to an apartment of my own, my stuff has expanded to fill the space much like water in a jar. I don't use most of these things on a regular basis and often can't remember the motivation for purchasing it in the first place.

There are a lot of articles about the impact on clutter on your waking and sleeping life. I’m not going as hard core as this guy who only lives with just 15 possessions. There isn’t a magic number for me, rather a feeling that I’ve moved down to the essentials. Interestingly, most of the things that I want to keep are the things from my travels or gifts from people that I care about. It is fun (fun might be too strong a word- I really hate spring cleaning) to look at what matters.

What items can you not live without?

Perspective

2011-04-29T12:47:00.001-04:00

I love the spring. After all the grey of winter it’s great to get outside. The brown is starting to give way to hints of green, the temperature is warming up, and people are happier. I’m trying to spend most weekends outside.

Perspective is a funny thing. When it’s 60 degrees outside, it feels so warm coming from the cold winter and bringing hope of spring and sun. But in a few months, the same 60 degrees will feel cold and slightly depressing, as it means winter is approaching. No matter how much I tolerate winter because of skiing and snowboarding, it isn’t my favorite season.

The last time I was in DC, I got to do a high ropes course with Living Social Adventures. The weather was alright, the people I was strapped to trees with were fun, and I had a blast pretending to be a staff member of LSA. While in the trees, I was aware of how the same situation can be seen in different ways by people. The couple in front of me were scared, double and triple checking their carabineers. The two guys behind me were not terrified at all. The height and obstacles were the same for both groups but the experience was different. I spent the time giving encouragement to the couple in front of me and trying to mess up the guys behind. We also tried to see who could lean of the tree the farthest or climb a shaking ladder. Compared to skydiving, the height was nothing, and the time in the trees was strangely peaceful. The course had a lot of obstacles, five ziplines and two Tarzan swings. They were my favorite where you launch yourself out of a tree into a large net.

Differing perspective can also be seen in the attitudes of people living in the American North and South. It is a common thought that people from NYC are rude. Living here I don’t see it. New Yorkers are very helpful as long as you don’t ask too many questions and don’t block the left side of the escalator. But then there are things that can be seen as impolite. We don’t stay and talk about anything in line. It’s get in, purchase, get out, and move onto the next thing. And if we were to say “excuse me” every time we bumped into someone on the streets we would never be able to get anywhere.

A few weekends ago, I visited North Carolina to see my sister and her boyfriend. I immediately saw the difference. Everyone is willing to talk about anything in line or at the gas station, even to complete strangers. I never got used to it, instead skeptical that they could indeed be that happy to show me to my seat at a restaurant. Perhaps it is fake, or perhaps it’s genuine, but when arriving back in New York I was aware of how miserable we all seem by comparison.

Tri-State

2011-03-21T13:51:00.015-04:00

I competed in the Tri-State Ballroom Dance Challenge this past weekend. I did better than last year, had more fun, and was more relaxed. I also have a host of new things to work on in practice. I danced seven times: Cha-cha, Rumba, Swing (East Coast) and Samba were at the Bronz II level. Waltz, Foxtrot, and Tango were at a Silver II level. I took first place, second place, and third place depending on the dance! My mom took the video, my dad took the still pictures.

Cha-Cha

Rumba:

Swing:

Samba:

Waltz:

Tango:

Foxtrot:

Leadership

2011-03-15T10:29:00.005-04:00

True leadership isn’t about power and force. It is about communication, awareness of the strength of each individual, the ability to recognize and use the skills of the other, and the choice to work together. This remains true in life, relationships, and dance.

I’ve been preparing for my next ballroom competition this Friday. Since last year, I’ve learned a lot technically and about the interpersonal forces of a ballroom partnership. I’ve been trying to gain an understanding on what separates a decent team from an extraordinary one. One aspect is the “lead/follow” relationship.

In ballroom, if a guy is leading correctly and the woman is fully embracing her role, the lead disappears. You don’t even notice him. Likewise, a great leader can be recognized by what they leave behind, how they have trained others and encouraged others to be their best, to the point that they almost disappear. How would a company look if the leaders were that selfless?

As I’ve gotten more involved in the process I realize how far removed the woman’s role in dance is from the typical “follow around like a little puppy” view. The perceptions I hear from women who dance are either: they think they can’t follow because they can't give up control, or the alternative: they completely surrender to the guy’s lead, he gets to decide everything and they just get to look pretty. Both are far from the reality of an exceptional dance partnership. The woman determines, chooses, and controls a number of aspects in a dance. This is intentional. As women in dance, we are active contributors.

There is so much to concentrate on in dancing, the pair splits up the duties. If I, as a woman, was so busy wondering what move to do next, I wouldn’t be able to hear the intricacies of the music. We would move around the dance floor and it would look fine, but it lacks that extra piece to make it exceptional. Likewise, if the guy had to worry about swelling with the mood of the music, he wouldn’t be able to steer us away from hitting another couple as we turned. We split up the aspects of dance and respect each other's authority in the matter.

The women controls the musicality, not just for herself, but for the couple. It is true that allowing the guy to lead allows for the women to be more passionate and beautiful individually. But it also allows the guy to be the same. Depending on the music, when my partner leads a particular move I can hold it a fraction of a second longer than he expected, filling up the space and time. Taking a deep breath and holding it for just a little before releasing. A good lead will sense this and pause with me. In that way I help him dance the music rather than just going through motions. If he had to focus on both, we wouldn’t be able to move. He gives up the right to determine the breath and flow of the dance to the woman.

It isn’t about the guy doing all the work and I just get to float around looking pretty. I am a dynamic part in the partnership. For example, when turning in closed hold, the woman is in change of stopping the movement at the right time. This takes so much strength both in mind awareness of where the couple is as a unit, as well as, strength in body. Hello core workout.

The woman is also in charge of the connection. The man’s frame has to stay constant. If he is worried about making sure we are connected I wouldn’t be able to tell if his arm twitching is a lead or reestablishing the connection. Therefore, it is the women who determines how much connection to have, how much tension to create and ultimately how much power the couple will have on the floor. In any couple, dance or relationship, some tension is good. It is the women who chooses and controls how much tension to create. Too submissive and the couple has no power, too aggressive and the body contact is lost. The correct amount of tension creates a power that allows really good couples to float across the dance floor.

The graceful power doesn’t happen if the woman is weak, if she is hesitating, if she is just letting the man go wherever he wants. It’s like a rubber band. It can be floopy, break if pulled to tight, or it can stretch and pull and snap back into place. In a dance couple I pull away from my partner while remaining completely attached. In fact, I now dance in true closed hold which means my dance partner and I are touching from the bottom of my rib cage to my belly button at all times (in smooth dances). But I am pressing into him and away from him at the same time creating tension. It is that contradiction of being attached but pressure that allows for power, that allows us to know where each others bodies are, and for him to direct us on the floor.

Force the guy to lead, question him, don’t just follow blindly. This is where women get upset in dancing. They give all the power to the guy. Why? Because he determines where you stand on the floor? That is just a part, albeit an important part when dancing in competitions with 10 other couples on the floor. When he starts to lead a turn the woman doesn’t crumble into it. Instead she takes an extra fraction of a second still going the way she was headed until that ideal tension spot. This does two things: It forces the guy to be a stronger lead, to be sure of where he is going. It also creates the pull required to gain sharpness and control for a turn. Emotionally, both are reminded that she is strong, that she actively has to agree if the partnership is going to work.

I'll post videos once the competition is done!

Planning

2011-02-25T12:49:00.006-05:00

I'm more of a big picture type of gal. I get ideas and want to jump right away. To be detail oriented is doable, but it takes a lot of mental power (and usually a lot of lists preferably on giant purple post-its). This means that I am sometimes, okay always, disorganized. For example, this weekend I left an extra shirt out in the snow. I'm a sanguine personality type, so spontaneity and "ready, fire, aim" are fine strategies for me because most things just seem to end up working out. And if something doesn't go as planned at least it makes a great story.

Recently a lot of situations are in the planning stages, things that I can't just leap into immediately with an optimistic hope for the best. Instead I have to plan, debate, practice, or otherwise strategize in order to make it work.

1) My dance competition is coming up in about three weeks. I'm doing seven routines at a Bronze II or Silver I level. There are two parts to a dance routine: feeling the music and technical expertise. I can do either individually but put them together and a clash occurs. So right now is the practice stage.

2) I've been hanging out in this country for too long. Granted, I've been taking mini weekend vacations so I haven’t just been sitting at home. Still, it's time to get on a plane and travel. The next place I want to go, Australia, doesn't lend itself to an extended weekend on the spur of the moment. Unlike my past two international vacations where I decided about a week before boarding the plane, Australia, and then Antarctica, takes a bit more time to figure out the details. Right now I am planning and trying to save money. I also might get my scuba certification before I leave. Scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef would be amazing.

3) Recently I completed a Wellness Cleanse which significantly altered what I eat. Before doing this cleanse I never read ingredients or thought about what I ingest. Having to plan meals out ahead of time was a challenge, especially as my cooking skills involve omelets, grilled cheese, and pasta from a box none of which was allowed during the 21 days. Even though officially done with the cleanse, I have kept up with some of the recommendations. Although I did a spectacular job this past weekend falling off the wagon complete with celebratory cupcake, a walking/eating tour of DC, tequila tasting, and a dinner of candy.

4) A few weeks ago I won the International Speech contest at my Toastmasters Club and last night won the next level (the Area 42 contest)! Now I am gearing up for the Division D competition in April, meaning once again I have to plan out and develop my speech. At each level of the competition, I will give the same speech but the intention is to take feedback and make improvements each time.

Last night I was keenly aware of how similar my hand motions, voice inflection, and mannerisms are to my mom. Almost creepy in the similarity. But she is a published writer and an entertaining, compassionate storyteller. Emulating her is a compliment. I’ll post a video of my speech after I get as far as I can in the competition. Working towards Vegas!

Also congrats to Rafay for winning the Area 42 Evaluation Contest.

Intention

2011-01-31T22:37:00.000-05:00

I’ve been thinking about living with intention this month. The things I do, how I spend my time and money, what I eat. There is a lot of my life that I coast through. The brain likes to put things in boxes and there are benefits to that process. That’s why for a toddler every four-legged furry animal is the family dog. If we had to consciously take every breath or every step we wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything else. At the same time being mindful of our connection to our breath, ourselves, and others has a very calming effect and can provide the environment for inspirational breakthroughs.

I make new years resolutions every year. And every year they are more or less the same ones. Keep my room clean, improve my handwriting, eat right, exercise more, save more… the normal ones. But all of those come from a place of not being enough. That there is an ideal ‘self’ I am forever falling short. I write my resolutions and don’t look at them again until a year or two later to see how many I kept. I can’t think of a single one.

On the flip side are the goals that I make throughout my life, not from a place of shortcomings to be overcome but from a place of completeness with a motivation of being more. For example being 27 would be the best year of my life and I’ve worked at making it so. Then there is the goal to touch every continent by the time I am 30. Baring any unforeseen crisis, or even in spite of them, I have a loose plan to accomplish this. Getting involved in a voluntourism agency in some fashion (still working out the details of that one).

Why make goals at all? I like the idea of self-improvement and the idea of stagnation feels grimy. And goals are easier to keep if they are written out, spoken, or otherwise given authority. Just because the road is difficult doesn’t mean you should give up. I’ve started to be intentional even about what goals I set. Goals that you actually want to meet take energy and risk to accomplish. Even those goals made that you don’t want to accomplish still take emotional energy and focus away from other things. If the motivation comes from anywhere but me, I don’t bother making it.

Chill

2010-12-21T09:51:00.009-05:00

The past few months have been very full of events. The marathon, dance practice gearing up for another competition in the spring, and starting my AFP program in Skydiving. It leads to an amazingly full life… and also stress fractures. The past four weeks I have been forced to change how I live my life with varying degrees of success. Unable to dance, jump, or even walk quickly.

I love all of the things I do but what do I miss by rushing around? A couple weekends ago I got to see the inside of the Washington Monument in DC. There are 897 stairs but also an elevator. I would love to know how they inserted it after the monument was built. Along the inside are 193 blocks given by states, cities, and other entities to honor our first president. The alternative, less altruistic, motive was to provide the stones when funding ran out. They are completely unseen from the outside. There are hidden treasures all over if you slow down enough to see them.

While in DC I also had my first official at-a-spa massage. The timing was perfect as I adjust to learning to slow down. (Plus it's a DayZero item) I’m one of the only people I know of who tenses up at a massage and have to continually be told to relax. I was a lot more successful in this one than in past mini massages after facials.

My favorite part of the Pixar film ‘Up’ is the girl’s adventure book. Ellie loves adventure and has a scrapbook where she records everything. In the end, it turns out she saw her whole life as an adventure shared with her childhood friend who became her husband, even though she never got to build the house on Paradise Falls. It is a sweet, endearing part of the movie. I think about it a lot as I go flying around the world. Is adventure really about the things I do? Or is it rather more about my approach and attitude towards all aspects of life? And the type of people I choose to fill my life with? There can be adventure in the quiet moments of life too. Granted, as soon as the doctor says I can, I am back on the dance floor and in the sky. Being chill can only last for so long.

Addiction

2010-11-23T00:04:00.010-05:00

Ever since my first tandem skydive, I've developed a bit of an addiction to the sport. To clarify: I'm willing to sleep in a tent in 30 mile and hour winds, travel for hours on buses, sleep on a bench along side homeless men talking to themselves, spend whole weekends staring at the sky hoping for sun, all for the chance of getting up in the sky and jumping out of a "perfectly good airplane".

After your first skydive each jump has certain skills to demonstrate. There is a set progression baby-stepping your way to fully jumping on your own, getting your a-license, and being known as a fun-jumper. Yes, we do this for fun.

By the third windy day attempting to dive, I was so tired of sitting on the ground; all I wanted to do was jump. One of the instructors understood this need and took me up in a tandem so that I could at least fly. In addition, while on a commercial airline I stared out the window wishing I had a parachute. Now, this might not be understandable to a majority of people but among those who frequent dropzones every weekend, no other response would make sense. After numerous wind delays where it was not safe for me to try and land on my own, this weekend I’ve finally officially begun my AFP training. That means I have my own parachute, jump out of the plane with an instructor next to me but not attached by a harness, and once I pull, I am under canopy on my own including landing. Just as scary and amazing as it sounds.

It’s hard to put into words why I ended up being so obsessed with skydiving. I’ve heard stories of how people from all different backgrounds found diving. There are social hobby divers like myself, those who do this for a job, complete with all the benefits and frustrations of any job, and those who have found freedom and, in a way, salvation in diving.

Skydivers are an interesting lot. They literally put their life on the line in order to fully live it. Certain traits like risk taking, a fondness for travel, few physical attachments, and the willingness to do anything for a story are typical. My stories of petting a cheetah and leaving for a two week international trip with four days preparation are usually unique. But on the dropzone the response beomes “I’ve done that” or at least something similar. One thing I love is never having to defend myself or my choices to divers. They get it. I’ve yet to hear that I’m crazy. In that way I’ve found kindred spirits in the diving community. Now along with any niche community they do have their quirks but are charming all the same.

The thing that has surprised me the most while training is the control over almost all aspects, even when falling at 120 miles per hour. Depending on body position, a skydiver can move faster, slower, left, right, turn, flip, basically moving in all directions of a three dimensional space. At each level there are different tasks to demonstrate control over. While focusing on each these, I find that the whole idea of the ground coming towards me disappears.

The idea of consuming concentration is one of the many reasons I like skydiving. The body still responds with a flight or fight response and you have to push past that to be completely in the moment, eventually using the body’s response to your advantage. Even instructors and divers with hundreds of jumps get butterflies. I noticed each person had a way of centering themselves before the door of the plane opened. A brief moment of closing the eyes and breathing, visualizing the jump ahead.

I also like the clear cut sense of success. If you get up and walk away from the dive it was successful. Even with things to improve (arch position ;)) the dive is an accomplishment. The most dangerous diver is the one who thinks they have nothing to improve. Diving simplifies priorities. The most important thing is to pull (in a stable position). Whatever else you do in the air don’t forget that step.

I also like the personal responsibility aspect to the success of skydiving. Skydiving for me is a very individual thing. I have to make the decision to leave the plane. And I determine how much preparation I give to each jump. My new friend, M, has a great outlook on life and diving. She shared about the significance of consequences and taking responsibility in diving and therefore life. When we jump out of the plane we have to accept the consequences of our decisions. That includes accountability to learn correct maneuvers, how to get out of malfunctions, and what we want to accomplish.

My other friend, I, recently completed his certification jumps and graduated from AFP. Having someone to talk to who is only a handful of jumps ahead of me is great because we can vent the struggles and frustrations from learning a whole new skill set, give encouragement when dives don’t go quite as planned (because they won’t always), share in the excitement and glow from a successful dive, and enable and shamelessly encourage each other’s addictions to this sport. Though to be perfectly honest, the competitive side of me wishes that I could spend a week diving and get my A-license before him.

Even if all of this makes very little sense, I highly recommend adding skydiving at least once to any sort of life list you create. I’ll always be willing to go along.

Rain

2010-11-10T11:40:00.007-05:00

At what age do we decide that rain ruins a picnic? In the rain everyone treks into work with scowls on their faces. Except a this little girl about five years old. She had cute little ladybug boots, with a matching raincoat and umbrella that instead of covering her head she twirled around. Rain meant it was time to play, just as sun means its time to play.

Years ago, while vacationing in Disney, it started to rain. I forget whether Aimee or Rob started playing in the rain first but soon the three of us where slipping and sliding around, getting completely soaked. Back under the awning, my parents were receiving dirty looks from all the other parents whose children wanted to join us. My parents say they endured the looks because we were too old to disciple, but I think they understand the need to play.

The subways are always grumpy places when it is raining. Filling a tiny space with a bunch of wet people who have decided that the rain messed up their plans causes people to snap. I witnessed two old ladies on the train the morning of the ladybug princess. One started lecturing about deference to elders, complaining that all respect had left society. She continued on for a few stops even after the recipient had clearly stopped listening. The other woman jumped onto the train saying “I would have never fit before. I’m shrinking. Thank God for old age.” When another rider yelled at people to move in, her response was “Don’t worry about them, they are just tired this morning. How are you?” The yeller had no clue how to respond to such a positive response.

When I’m old, I want to be like the second lady. But her attitude wasn’t something she magically obtained one day. She had to develop a habit of choosing to be happy. A pattern of complaining, likewise, will carry on till you are a bitter old woman (or man).

Kids have the amazing ability to live in the present; to take whatever comes and make the best of it. They don’t (initially) live life measuring events up to an ideal situation. Hopefully I can develop a habit of playing in the rain, whatever form that takes.

Marathon

2010-10-04T12:03:00.012-04:00

This weekend I completed a marathon in the Hamptons. I went into the marathon without training because I hate running alone. I also had spent the two nights before on 8-hour bus rides to and from Buffalo to celebrate my brothers 21st b-day. (Happy Birthday Robert!) It didn’t make the best conditions for running a marathon but I truly had no idea what I was getting into. Unlike my half marathon where I wanted to run the whole thing (and did), my goal for the marathon was simply to not give up (I didn’t).

Mile 1-5: Feeling good, running at a nice pace, lots of people and spectators and smiles.
Mile 7-13: They split the full marathon runners away. Because I’m running at a steady but slow pace I’m towards the back and there aren't a lot of us, no cheerers, no change in scenery. My extroverted side is getting grumpy. My ankles are starting to hurt but self talk is working. I tend to self-talk in two different ways. The first is tough love: “Jennifer, do you really need to walk? I didn’t think so.” The second is as if I were a two-year old or a dog: “What a good girl. Look at you running.”
Mile 13.1 Halfway there! Still feeling lonely and now the pain has moved to my calves but every step after this is farther than I have run before.
Mile 15: Took a 10 second walk which broke my mental game. Still to make it 15 miles is pretty darn good.
Mile 17: Minor breakdown. My legs are killing me and there hasn’t been people in a very long time. I switch between running like a little old lady and walking. I have no internal motivation to run, instead feeding off the energy I get from crowds.
Mile 20: Dance party and back to running. ‘Tightrope’ has become my new running song. Dancing makes me happier even when I’m dancing like a crazy person alone in the woods.
Mile 22: I have a full blown temper tantrum like a 4-year old, except I didn’t stomp my feet because they hurt so badly. I would have been completely embarrassed to let anyone hear my whining but there was no one around me. “I hate these woods, I hate running, this isn’t fun anymore, I hate this, I’m all alone, I want to quit, this sucks.” All I really wanted to do was sit down in the middle of the road but I knew my legs wouldn’t let me back up.
Mile 23: I laughed at how dramatic I was being and started to run again. There was a group of people who were cheering on a friend running slightly behind me and I adopted them as my own. I knew I couldn’t quit now. I can’t tell if it was a personal need or because I didn’t want to have to tell people that I quit. Either way my new goal was to run the last three miles. I had a tear streaked face but a smile.
Mile 24: Ran by the ocean didn’t even see it. I’ve heard it looked beautiful.
Mile 25: The last mile seemed like the longest.
Mile 26.2: As soon as I saw the finish line I started full out running. Everything else disappeared. My headphones flew out of my ears and started flapping behind me. I’m sure my face looks crazed in the picture. But… I FINISHED.

I’m glad I took on the challenge and completed a marathon. However, I don’t think I’ll get addicted to marathons. I averaged a little over a 13 minute mile which all things considered is a respectable time. Granted, I was towards the back of the pack but despite more physical pain than my mind was able to process and a high level of emotional turmoil I finished.

Congrats to Jeff & Nick on completing the Hamptons Half Marathon- their first endurance race.

Longkong

2010-09-28T16:26:00.006-04:00

The first question you may be asking is: “What in the world is a Longkong?” It is a fruit native to Thailand, slightly larger than a grape but smaller than a strawberry, with a distinctive sweet and sour taste. It has translucent flesh with a shiny seed the size of a marble in the center that has a rich brown color.

The next question would be: “Why devote a blog entry to such a fruit?” Especially a blog where I typically share things I consider to be adventures. I have spent over six years trying to find this fruit. It became a mystical endeavor for me, an adventure in its own right. It made sense I couldn’t find it in upstate New York. But for the past three years I have lived in NYC, where anything and everything you could possible want from around the globe is offered to you. Except, apparently, the Longkong. In every new grocery store, every little hole-in-the-wall deli, every fruit stand, I explored the fruit section looking and hoping without result.

Last week I went to the fruit man by my work and saw a large box filled with small round tan circles. I barely restrained myself to buying two pounds; I wanted the whole box.

The fruit isn’t some ambrosia-like substance. It is about more than just the taste for me. Every time I peel back the thin tan skin, I’m reminded of sitting on benches eating with the girls from the Home of Blessing in Thailand after they returned from school. They didn’t own many possessions but they took such delight in sharing their lives with us. Plus, like all students, it provided a distraction from starting their homework. While working on building a road or clearing the rice fields we had pockets filled with Longkong.

Camp+

2010-09-06T20:15:00.012-04:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nuT1uvDR64

Labor Day weekend I went to summer camp with my go-to outdoorsy friend M and Urban Escapes. It had all the right ingredients to recreate the world of middle school sleepaway camp, plus a few additions, like wine, to update it for adults. There were roaring bonfires with sing-alongs and smores; small wooden cabins with bunk beds and bugs; games such as volleyball, capture the flag, flag football, and kickball; exercise with yoga and trail runs; crafts such as lanyard keychain making; water events of blobbing and a zip line; and nightly dance parties. There was even a 20+ person cup game. Our behavior matched that of summer camps I remember with new friends, innocent flirtations, mild drama, and sneaking around after curfew. The guides had an amazing comaraderie between themselves though many of them had never met and that created an atmosphere of friendship and fun for the rest of us.

The video and picture are of blobbing. Which, as I so gracefully demonstrate, is a lot more entertaining when it goes slightly wrong. Thanks to R&D for the spectacular gang blob.

This summer has been dominated by water activities. I went kayaking on the Hudson with my sister. Downtown Boathouse is a free kayaking rental program which allows you to kayak against the beautiful backdrop of the Upper West Side. The day was perfect and not only because we did not tip into the sketchy dirty water filled with lotto tickets and other trash.

I also went whitewater rafting. The guides said there were level 3 rapids. I doubt it. Still we did go through rapids backwards as a general rule, hit almost every rock even if it was on the opposite side of the river from us, and propel everyone on my side of the boat into the water.

Biodegradable

2010-08-18T16:39:00.000-04:00

From my water bottle:

“This bottle is completely biodegradable… This bottle currently biodegrades in every State in the U.S. except CA”

So does the bottle like CA so much that it wants to stay there forever? Or does it hate the state so much that it refuses to do its part to help with the pollution issue in protest?

Skydiving

2010-07-04T22:16:00.000-04:00

The best part about life is every experience is different. I've jumped off things and over things but the sensation of jumping out of a plane while sky diving is unique and not just because my ears hate the change in altitude. I thought the best way to share the experience is through a photo montage. A link to the video is first:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcFOr-kPA-g

Signing our lives away... literally.

My dive group

Getting ready to board!

"Whoa. That's a long..."

"...way down"

No idea you go headfirst towards the ground at 200 miles an hour.

"Look at me I did it!"

Stable but fast. Jumped at 14,000 feet. The little pink chute (not pictured) is for stability. It doesn't seem to slow you down any.

Enjoying the ride.

Spinning in circles.

Trying to take it all in.

Simply smiling and flying

My instructor (Rob) was also keeping an eye on my videographer (Timmayo). Here he is telling him to pull his legs in. Clearly signals sent to me wouldn't be processed. I use their names because if you go this is the team you want. But if you go with me, I get first claim.

Goofing off at 6,000 feet.

Isn't there something you should be doing at 5,000 feet?

Oh yeah, pulling the cord.

I opened the chute! (with a little help). What isn't pictured here is the floating time. Suspended in the air, spinning is circles, taking in the sights.

Coming in for the landing.

A suprisingly graceful landing.

The complete team, back on solid ground.

I never consciously thought I would die but my body responded with a survival instinct. Time slows down, the world seems brighter, and I become very hyper. The views are amazing and because the senses are on overload, it is possible to take in the sights even when in free fall. After the parachute is released you float above the world in a calm manner. My instructor and I followed some hawks because they are the clues to thermals which allow you to stay in the air longer. I was the first one out of the plane of my team and the last to touch down. We spun different ways and I learned how to stop the chute in the air giving an odd feeling of weightlessness and gravity at the same time.

A new friend and fellow team member eloquently captured her personal deeper meaning behind sky diving over lunch as “Letting Go”. For me, it took some time for my survival part of the brain to quiet enough for me to realize that the deep recesses of my brain had also been working while traveling though the air at 200 miles per hour.

When I look at my life and the next steps I’m “supposed” to take, I realize I don’t want the traditional life. I kept trying to ignore that, to force myself into roles that don’t give me purpose. I decided years ago that 27 would be the best year of my life. So far I’m right. The reason: I am purposefully creating this wonderful year. Filling it with the expereinces I want. The theme of this year is perfectly captured in skydiving: Creating amazing, bright, meaningful moments.

I went skydiving in New Jersey at Freefall Adventure. They are the largest center in the Northeast. The instructors are amazing. Everyone responds to the stress of their first jump differently and the instructors work hard to match what is needed for each individual. Calming down those that are nervous, rationally talking through those that are reserved, and blending hyped up excitement with instruction for those that can’t stop talking. Take a wild guess which I would be. If you can’t figure it out re-watch the video.

Hiking

2010-06-30T10:26:00.001-04:00

One of the hardest adjustments about living in the City is the lack of weekend hiking trips. Growing up between the Adirondacks and the Catskills meant we went hiking a lot. Since moving to Manhattan, it’s a little more difficult to get out into nature. While my sister was in grad school (Congrats Aimee you’re done!) I would meet up with her for the weekend. Luckily there are a few groups in Manhattan that take hikers up to the mountains. This past weekend my friend M and I decided to go on a hike, swim, wine trip. The idea was to hike for 2.5 miles to a lake, swim in said lake, then hike 2.5 miles back to the car and go to a local vineyard for a wine tasting.

That was the idea.

Instead we and the 13 other people on the trip wandered around lost for approximately 15 miles in 90 degree heat without ever finding the lake.

We wandered along the white path, the blue path, the white/blue path, the white and blue path (they are all different), the yellow path, and there was a touch of the red path in there as well. I’m surprised that everyone stayed as positive as they did. I’m not saying people were happy with the situation. But it could have been a lot worse than the mild grumblings at the tail end of the group as we solemnly marched through the woods.

The only reason we got out of the woods was another participant took a picture of the map and used his iphone to locate our position with GPS. Iphones typically have spotty service but in the middle of the woods it seemed to work fine. We added to the Iphone ad campaign: “15 people lost in the woods… there’s an ap for that”

For me in terms of personal self-growth, I saw again how I don’t have a lot of patience. I’ve been hiking almost my whole life. The groups from Manhattan are usually made up of people who have never been hiking before. Because of this, the pace is slow with a lot of stops. Eventually my friend and I were irritated enough and moved ahead of the group, allowing us to hike at a faster more enjoyable speed. Plus it gave us time to catch up. That is until we got to a road that wasn’t supposed to be there. The first of a few strange roads. The most frustrating part was sitting in a batch of ferns knowing beyond a doubt that this was the way we had come and having the rest of the group decide that taking the white trail was better. Like I said, patience is something I don’t seem to have a lot of.

I hike with a goal in mind. I tend to walk as quickly up the mountain as I can to the summit. It’s a clear cut success or fail approach. In comparison, my dad hikes for the journey. Whether he makes it to the summit or not, he is out in nature, taking pictures of flowers and insects that I never see because I am sprinting ahead. This past weekend we never got to the lake but the journey was memorable. Part of the reason it was so memorable was because it was difficult. That and by the end dehydration was starting causing us to laugh at anything.

Fire-eating

2010-05-26T11:26:00.000-04:00

Create the moment, remember the moment, and cherish the moment. ~Isaak Gelbinovich

My favorite moment from the Toastmasters conference I attended this weekend actually occurred after the event itself. As we were leaving, two of the presenters were practicing fire eating. That's right, the circus act type of thing. I was asked if I wanted to learn.

Why not?

Life is all about choices. It can be basic and grey, driven by fear or filled with experiences and colorful. I’m very blessed to have a life where I’m not worried about food or shelter. Instead, I can focus on creating a life filled with powerful moments and limitless snapshots. Some have an adrenaline rush like cliff jumping or trapeze school. But others are precious, like seeing Adi smile for the first time* or watching a group of high school students who’d never experienced anything outside of upper middle class America start to broaden their understanding of the world and take charge of their lives. It’s all about the journey. I never want to look back on my life and say “I wish I had done X when I had the chance but I was too afraid.”

The concept of fire-eating is simple. Limitations we face are often self-imposed responses to obstacles. The human mind and body are capable of so much more than we express. Fire is an influential symbol because we have experience with the power of fire. It cooks food, can destroy forests and houses, can burn a person, and brings needed heat and light. The concept of fire-eating says by overcoming fear and believing you can accomplish this task; you empower and equip yourself to take charge of your life in other areas.

I do want to make a note: I wasn’t alone trying this out in my apartment on a whim. Croix Sather is a motivational speaker/success hypnotist who frequently uses fire-eating in his presentations and has a lot of experience teaching participants how to eat fire safely. (Check out his website here) Before we even started practicing, he explained the physics of the process. Then he explained the personal implications, how the fire symbolized taking control of all aspects of my life. Throughout the experience he stood next to me, talking me through each step. I, however, had to be the one to actually put the fire in my mouth. No one else can do that, or anything else, for you.

As a side note, I think joining the circus might be my Plan B. I've got the trapeze down, riding on an elephant's head, cheetah taming, and now fire eating. Once I learn to juggle I’m set. Does the circus go to Australia and Antarctica? This could be my ticket to finish visiting all seven.

* For those who don’t know: Adi is a sweet young boy I met while working in a Romanian orphanage. All these years later he is still on my heart. For those who do know the story of Adi: Can you believe he is already 14? (He was five when I met him)

Names

2010-05-24T12:07:00.000-04:00

This past weekend at a Toastmaster conference, one of the speakers talked about the power of words to create your life whether in blessing or curse. I got to thinking about a subset, the power of names.

Many creation stories describe a process for naming things, but one that is connected to the creation itself. We give names to pets to separate them from other animals and show possession. There are dogs and then there was MY dog Jeremiah. Nicknames are given to demonstrate connection to another person, secret jokes known only to a small group of privileged people. Last names demonstrate lineage, middle names at times are used to show respect to a family member.

Then there are the names that we use in our internal dialog. The same syntax is used (in present day English) to demonstrate a state of being such as I am hungry and names. I am Jennifer. Because of this, the phrase “I am” ties directly into our understanding of who we are as a person. “Names” such as Beautiful or Stupid when used in this syntax over time can become as much a part of ourselves as our given names.

While in Kenya, I was given a “second name” that means Spirit of the Cheetah. I love the second name concept. It isn’t a nickname used by only a few friends, it isn’t a middle name picked by parents. It is a name given after puberty, usually by the group, to pinpoint the defining characteristic of the person, who they truly are. In cultures where a second name is used it has at least equal weight to the person’s given name. Introductions use either name, often both. To the kids at the orphanage, not having a second name was almost as if I was missing part of myself.

In my life at the moment there are a couple intimidating situations. To me, my second name has become a reminder of who I am. Without having to do anything more, I am Wanguarai. Therefore, I already possess the skills needed to overcome the obstacles.

Plus, I’ve pet a grown cheetah. Even though she looks dead or sleeping in the picture, she definitely isn’t. If I can approach a full grown animal that has the ability to rip my arm off before I even start running, can the situations I’m facing now be that difficult? Incidentally, cheetahs purr like giant house cats when petted.

Records

2010-05-18T09:39:00.000-04:00

When I put “Break a Record” into my 101 list, I didn’t think I would actually be able to accomplish it. I’m not about to grow my nails out really long and there is no way the world’s largest duct tape ball could fit in my crooked little apartment. I can’t pogo stick across the country or pop my eyes out of their sockets. Although I can hope to be the oldest person alive, unless the world implodes and I am the only person left, that won’t be accomplished in the next two years. So what is a girl to do?

Join the largest dodge ball game in the world.

The previous record was around 600 people. My game, run completely for publicity purposes by Samsung, had 730-something people. Because a corporation organized it, we had t-shirts, 600 dodge balls, and official refs. It was single elimination, the kind you played in elementary school before creating all the extra rules like lighthouse, doctor, and something related to a candle. But because there were so many people, the single elimination part didn’t work out so well. If you got hit, you just moved to a different location in the field, picked up another ball to throw, and continued playing. I’m pretty sure the video caught me doing just that. Plus, if you caught a ball, there was no way to determine the individual who had thrown it out of the sea of blue (I was on the yellow team) so they stayed in as well.

I couldn’t throw far enough to make it to the other side (shot-putting record is way out of my league) so I ran out into the middle to push ammunition back to my team. I lasted longer than I thought as a sitting duck but there was no way to pretend I didn’t get hit eventually.

Another group in Texas is trying to break the record. Still, at least for the next two weeks, I can say that I participated in a world record breaking dodge ball game.

Suspicious

2010-05-11T15:38:00.001-04:00

I generally don’t watch SNL. In fact, this week's show (5/8) might be the first episode I’ve seen in full. One skit stood out to me, correction, one exchange.

MEYERS - "Times Square was evacuated for the second time in a week on Thursday to investigate a threatening looking package that turned out to be a harmless cooler full of water. It was one of four NYPD trips to Midtown prompted by calls reporting suspicious behavior… Really? We have to call in suspicious looking behavior in Times Square? Have you ever been to Times Square? It’s where “suspicious” goes to hang out! Really."

POEHLER - "And really, which thing would they like me to report? There’s steam coming out the street. Out of towners taking pictures of landmarks. And 15 people are pedaling by on an alien super bike. I mean really?"

It got me thinking about all the strange things that you see here in the City. Some of my favorite harmless but out-of-the-ordinary people, in no particular order:

1) The guy with the cat on his head. He’s trained his cat to sit on top of his head as he wanders around the city.

2) The guy with the taxidermy dog that he pulls around on a leash and wheels.

3) The evangelist who decided that “Jesus can’t be the messiah. I’ll tell you why… Because Jesus… in Spanish… is “pronounced Hay Zoos… Don’t you get it?... As in ‘Hey Zeus, how ya doing’… I’ve done a lot of research on this.” In addition Christmas, Easter, and Halloween are the mark of the beast and Lucifer is female.

4) The guy who sings in his underwear and makes over $100K a year doing so. (Naked Cowboy)

5) The guy who sings opera under a bridge in Central Park while dancing in a loincloth and playing the violin. (Thoth)

6) The thousands of people that participate in the pantless subway ride in the middle of winter every year. I might participate if I wasn’t worried about running into a client or a co-worker. Pity growing old and mature.

7) The subway magician complete with live bird. If that thing ever gets away from him I think I’ll be screaming along with everyone else.

Fellow New Yorkers feel free to add to the list.

Note: My sister and I walked past the van earlier that evening. I don't remember seeing it and we were well past it before the cops cleared the streets. Still crazy.

Spontaneity

2010-04-09T11:59:00.000-04:00

My life has become full with regularly scheduled activities. While I love everything I have planned, the clubs I’ve joined, the dance classes, ect., it doesn’t leave much room for spontaneity. The blend of sanguine and choleric in my personality demands I have to have both. Without both structure and spontaneity I get grumpy.

I wanted to see what would happen if I purposly didn't plan anything going into Friday. It was great! One of those perfect NYC weekends that make me want to brag about what an amazing place I live in.

I went with a friend to see two solo musicals at a local theater. Then to the Guggenheim to see the new photography exhibit. I found it disturbing instead of introspective or fascinating. Part of the problem is nothing in the Gugg will ever compare to "I Want to Believe", the first exhibit I saw there. Then I spent the wonderfully weathered Sunday strolling on the High Line with a few friends. The High Line is a raised, abandoned, railroad track recently converted to an elevated park. To end the day we went to eat at the Frying Pan, a restaurant created on board a previously sunken ship.

Where else can you do all that in a weekend?

13.1

2010-04-07T14:49:00.000-04:00

I started Easter weekend by running a half marathon. 13.1 miles of one foot in front of the other, endless pavement, two+ hours, countess steps… quite the challenge. I was supposed to have been training for weeks leading up to the event but my life is already filled to the brim, so I ran 4-6 miles once a week. I figure training for my dance competition two weeks ago and the fact that I am competitive and stubborn did the rest. I didn’t stop or walk! I actually found it easier than I had anticipated, although my right ankle tends to disagree with me even now. By mile seven I knew I would complete the race without stopping; the miles were flying by. I maintained my slow speed throughout even when I wanted to start going faster at mile ten. I kept thinking about the classic tale of the tortoise and the hare. Finishing was more important than speed. I did “sprint” over the finish line. At least I think I was running fast. I might have just been crawling along with a funny look on my face.

The race was organized through World Vision, a great organization that I have been sponsoring a child with for the past year. They also do disaster relief work and community development. Runners were either running to raise funds for Kenya (like myself) or Haiti. I found out about the race shortly after returning from Kenya so it made a lot of sense.

One of my friends came out to show support and take pictures. It helped a lot knowing that someone was along the path to cheer me on. In addition, a few teens from Grace Chapel in Clifton Park ran. It was great to see them again and I saw their parents at Mile 10- a nice little boost up a hill. Congrats Jordan, Lindsey, Rachel, and Kayla!

Competition

2010-03-21T02:15:00.002-04:00

I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday. There were so many observations, thoughts, and feelings from this weekend that I can't process quite yet. So the videos will have to speak for themselves. Sufficient to say, I want to do this again soon though I suspect I'll be riding the competition high for some time.

There are 5 videos: Cha Cha Bronze 1, Rumba Bronze 1, Open Waltz, Open Tango, and Open Foxtrot. The open dances were at a Silver 1 level in terms of steps I think.

Ballroom

2010-03-17T13:55:00.000-04:00

“While I dance I cannot judge, I cannot hate, I cannot separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole. That is why I dance.” ~Hans Bos

There haven’t been many updates to my blog recently; all my limited free time has been spent getting ready for my first ballroom dance competition! Plus, I haven’t figured out how to describe something that is a passion and a therapy at the same time with words that will make everyone who reads this understand just what an amazing thing ballroom dancing can be. I have danced my whole life but nothing compared to the training necessary to compete. And I’m only at Bronze I.

Dancing is one of the only things that got me through graduate school. I realized I can handle the stress of the working world much better when I have ballroom as an outlet. The world just seems more calm and manageable when I’m floating around the dance floor. During the hour practice session (oh, if only I could afford to practice a few hours a week instead of just one) nothing else matters.

I’ve taken private lessons since December. Originally I took a few classes but didn’t think I could afford to go continuously so I had to stop. A few weeks later the instructor called me up to say that he wanted me to take lessons in whatever capacity I could. Since then I’ve figured out how to make it work. I’ve realized it is an outlet I need to have in my life as a stress reducer.

Like any specific skill set, the technicality of ballroom dancing is something that most social dancers and observers can’t comprehend. For a given move there are about 15 different things to worry about before even taking a step. Not to mention that many times parts of my body connected by skin, bones, muscles, and tendons, have to move in opposite directions. Try as I might, my belly button cannot move at a 90 degree angle to my rib cage. Everything matters in competitive ballroom, which toe has weight first, the tilt of my head, the angle between my pointed fingers... and then make the move elegant and effortless.

I like the connection between relationships/communication and dancing. My dance partner, who is a professional dancer competing for over 10 years, can tell what foot I have weight on when I am standing behind him with only one hand on his shoulder. Traditionally, the man is the lead and the female is the follower. This has been changing with the growing acceptance of same-sex ballroom dancing and the fact that often the woman will take a “back-lead” if she is the better of the pair. But there is an interesting thing about the leading. One cannot lead by pulling and pushing at whim. If the women is on the wrong foot for a move the guy can't lead it without risking injury or awkwardness. The choices are to change the desired next move to relate to where the woman is standing or move her to gently to shift her weight. In the same manner, leading is not about pushing and pulling people but working with where they are or gently shifting the direction.

Similar to public speaking, the way you hold your body and use your hands drastically changes the message you are trying to portray. Giggling in the Tango, as I tend to do, doesn’t quite have the same feeling the sultry, passionate dance is supposed to express. Other skills like eye contact and variation of tone and intensity are all important flourishes that set a great dancer and a great speaker apart.

I leave for my first competition tomorrow. I’m nervous and excited. I’ve had to deal with frustrating practices and the fact there will be people who are much better than me on the dance floor. But when it comes down to it, I love getting dressed up, I love social events, I love being the center of attention when I dance, and I love dancing.

Videos of the competition will be forthcoming.

Snowman

2010-03-01T15:53:00.000-05:00

This weekend I participated in a SnowDay. I play kickball in the spring with a local group, good old fashioned school yard kickball. As we got a few inches of snow, the group organized a snowman contest, kickball games, and a capture the flag game. Even in NYC where anything goes it is amazing to me the rude comments that get called out about how we are losers playing kickball or making snowman. Not everyone seems to understand the joy of acting like a kid and letting loose. I don't know if it makes them uncomfortable or they are just jealous.

I hope I never get too old to appreciate a good snowman making contest.

The other side of our upside down snowman is a bunny. That's right it is a Rubin's Vase snowman. I'm not sure how we lost.

Unplug

2010-02-05T10:45:00.001-05:00

Over MLK weekend I did a un-plug/detox. There were two parts: not using anything that needed a plug for 72 hours, sans lights, and a very modified diet consisting of brown rice, lemon water, and spinach. I was supposed to eat bitter greens but as a girl who hates vegetables spinach was my compromise.

The detox part had its struggles. I crave fried, microwavable, and highly addicting comfort food. I’m lucky I have a fast metabolism. While I was in Kenya, aside from the few times I ate out, everything was (truly) organic and unprocessed. I felt better, had more energy, my skin cleared up, and I promptly went back to my old habits as soon as I returned. The Detox was meant to jump start my eating right. It also is #31 on my Day Zero list. I found that I was less hungry as the food I was eating had more fiber and other nutrients type things that I usually don’t get. But I couldn’t eat when I was bored which I frequently was as TV, music, and movies were all off limits. I tend to multi task usually eating dinner, reading a book, and watching tv all at the same time. For the weekend I attempted to do only one thing at a time. When I was eating dinner, I was eating dinner.

The unplug portion (#29) of the weekend had its own struggles. More than my addiction to processed food I am addicted to noise. When I come home the TV goes on even if I’m not watching it. If not the TV, then the radio or a movie. There is always noise around me. In addition, now that I have internet at my apartment, I’ll read through blogs or check my email more times then necessary. Not having all these safety distractions was harder than I thought it would be. It did give me time to think about the deeper meaning behind my room always being a mess, what I’m chasing after, and my positive characteristics and things I want to change. My journal has a lot of “hmm”, “wow”, and “oooooh” moments.

While not outwardly fun as some of the other things I do in my life, the experience of just being by myself for 72 hours was an adventure too. I’m planning on doing it again in the Spring, working with the natural cycles of the human body.

Favorite quote of the weekend: "Whoever you are, whatever you are, start with that." ~Alice Walker

Concern

2010-01-19T11:06:00.000-05:00

Check out Concern Worldwide, an organization I’ve worked with in the past here in the states. They, along with many other organizations, sent staff to Haiti to aid in the relief effort. One staff member, Susan Finucane, left for Haiti within a few hours of the earthquake. On Concern's blog she shares an update of the situation, including the heartache, struggles to get aid through the bottleneck of anarchy, and a story of hope taking the form of a Celinda, a little girl born after the earthquake.

Trapeze

2010-01-02T23:02:00.000-05:00

To celebrate the New Year I went with a couple friends to Trapeze School. Yes, “Fly trough the air with the greatest of ease” trapeze school. Why not? It’s one of the perks to living in a cultural mecca- almost anything you can possibly want to do is here. It also happens to be #92 on my DayZero list. I knew I wouldn’t balk once I got up there but climbing the ladder got the adrenalin pumping. Plus, as a child, I was never able to do the monkey bars, a thought prominent in my mind as I leaned over the edge of the platform. Now, not only would I leap from a platform, hang from a bar, pull my knees over my head, and then let go with my hands, I would do so 30-something feet in the air while moving.

Either my arms are stronger than they were when I was a child or I am less willing to accept defeat. It was a fun experience. My friend goes almost every week and I can see why. There is a therapeutic and addictive aspect to overcoming an obstacle and successfully mastering The Catch. A Flyer cannot say they have learned a trick until they make the catch.

When you cliff jump time seems to slow down allowing for a lot of clear, distinct thoughts: “Why did I just leave the safety of the ground? Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Okay I’m still in the air. Why haven’t I hit water yet? What a pretty water snake. I hope it’s not poisonous.”

However, this is not the case while Flying. Perhaps it is because your mind is so full with all the steps that need to be taken that you don’t have time to think about anything else. “Jump, swing, knees up, hands off, wow I didn’t fall off, reach out, grab bar, legs down, forward, back, kick, eek I’m doing a back flip… net”

The following videos are of the Knee Hang trick with differnet endings. The first is with a backflip, another thing that I was never able to do as a child. Perhaps I should try a Slip-and-Slide again. The second video is Knee Hang with Catch. The squeak is from me being completly surprised that the move actually worked.

Snow

2009-12-29T11:15:00.000-05:00

It rarely snows in The City. Possibly it’s the heat of the subway, the reflection of the sun off the buildings, or just too much body heat, but true snow, the kind that stays on the ground instead of turning to instant slush, seldom happens. I don’t think anything is as beautiful as the woods after a few feet of snow have fallen or a frozen waterfall. I was surprised at how dramatic the City is during a snow storm before the cars still on the road destroyed the snow turning it to grey wet slush. While I was walking back from a holiday party I came across a beautiful street corner. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, streets are filled with evergreen trees letting off a fragrant aroma. That evening they were covered in the freshly fallen snow making it feel a little more like Christmas. It was the most peaceful moment in a city that is never still.

The next day I attempted snowboarding for the first time. I’ve been cross country skiing for years and have attempted downhill skiing a few times. I’m not a very good skier, in fact, I’m pretty bad but I always have fun. I’m the type that falls down with flare leaving a trail of skis, hats, gloves, and goggles behind. Last year I successfully ran into a small tree, a not so tiny person, and fell into a ditch to have ski patrol come and rescue me.

Snowboarding was less chaotic although I spent most of the time falling on my butt while attempting to stand up. That was part of the fun. It was all about overcoming obstacles even when the obstacle is just making it down a hill. The most important thing is not to give up. I had a gravitational pull to a particular sign, fell down more times than I can count, and laughed a lot harder than I have in the past few weeks. And that makes it the perfect way to spend a snowstorm.

Speakeasy

2009-12-09T10:12:00.000-05:00

I stole this story from another blogger. I couldn’t pass sharing this incredible find. Apparently, a person/couple/group purchased a building in Queens and when they removed old boxes from the basement they found a 2-lane manual bowling alley. After some research the building was thought to be a speakeasy under a garment factory. Check out the story here: http://www.scoutingny.com/?p=1227

I didn’t even know I wanted one until I knew it was possible. My list of requirements for my imaginary house just grew by one. Secret Bowling Alley: non-negotiable.

Anyway- check out Scouting NY. It’s a fun blog of a film location scout who finds all sorts of interesting and usually unnoticed things in the City. Things such as half buildings, metal rats, and secret sculptures coming out of the East River. Once the weather is nice I’ll take my camera and try and find some of these things on my own.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-30T11:38:00.001-05:00

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter--the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something... the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion... each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh eyes of an adventurer... ~E.B. White

I love this quote. It was part of a subway advertising system aimed to make those of us who take public transportation smarter. Also included are the opening lines from Metamorphosis and quotes from “notable” New Yorkers. I’ve hesitated putting it in my blog because anything along the lines of lyrics to “New York, New York” clearly labels me a transplant. But as a true New Yorker told me this past week, I have to live here for at least eight years before I can say I’m a New Yorker anyway. Even then I might not earn that right as my crucial to my development as a person, high school years, were spent in the suburbs. So I might as well enjoy the glorified tourist status while I’ve got it.

Part of the fun of being a transplant in NYC is the joy of doing everything you possibly can, from scavenger hunts and 200+ person balloon fights, to pub crawls and local museums. Added to the joy of random sighting such as the guy who dragged his dead stuffed dog on wheels throughout the subway station. Questions such as “What?, Why?, Really? are very common but met with the attitude of: “Who really cares. It will make a great story.” It took me a while to realize that I live here so if I don’t head off to a museum or a meet-up event every weekend it will be okay. I’m not a tourist that has to fit it all in within a few days.

For Thanksgiving this year I got to host, sans the cooking portion. We saw the balloons get inflated (with barely able to move through crowds), the Macy’s Day parade (with crowds starting around 6:30 in the morning), Dave and Busters (dad got beat in almost everything), and Black Friday shopping (four hours of speedshopping and we only got through two stores). Hopefully next year mom will be able to join us.

Taboo

2009-11-13T16:56:00.000-05:00

Recently, I’ve been intrigued by the National Geographic show Taboo. It takes a look at a variety of customs throughout the world that outsiders might find forbidden or unmentionable, ranging in topic from food and standards of beauty, to death and child-rearing. I respect the show for trying to remain unbiased even if it doesn’t always succeed. It includes American customs I take for granted through the lenses of an outsider, shaping behaviors as strange, even unthinkable. The episode on demon possession presented American preachers in the same light as vo-doo priestesses. It makes sense; in a society without the belief in demonic possession either would seem anomalous. In a similar vein, putting make-up on your dead relatives, filling them with chemicals to avoid decay, and literally staring at the bodies, really is a little odd compared to the rest of the world.

Americans are notorious for not even trying to adapt to a different way of life when visiting other countries. Sometimes it isn’t on purpose; it takes a lifetime to adapt to all the nuances that cultures develop. These little behaviors create an “us” enabling a sense of belonging. But there is a danger when the “us against them” mentality emerges. There is a lot more to say about this topic and it always inspires dynamic, energetic, discussions. I leave it firmly within the category of being both a blessing and a curse and instead wander to amusing stories where my own unconscious cultural paradigms were exposed.

When visiting Montreal as a child my family wondered why the McDonalds was so loud, only to find when we all started eating that all the noise had been coming from one table… ours. A fellow classmate who came from a society that did not wear jewelry on hands asked me to explain the meaning of wearing rings. Seemed simple enough until I realized there are a lot of variables, and always exceptions- the gender of the wearer, which finger the ring is on, what stone is in the ring. While visiting a Thai University American culture class my team was asked: “Why do you keep your kids in cages?” We didn’t even know what they were talking about at first- cribs and playpens. I’ve been asked if I have a awful relationship with my mother because I destroyed our life link- I have a pierced belly button. By the way, I don’t have a bad relationship with my mother; she inspired this blog and follows it among other things.

DayZero

2009-11-02T15:52:00.008-05:00

One of the traits that I inherited from my mom is a love of lists. I make all types of lists not just the typical “To-Do” types. Sometimes when I don’t accomplish enough on the list, I go back through, write down what I did spend my time doing just so I can have the satisfaction of crossing it off. Yes, it is a little sad but gratifying.

A friend who is also addicted to lists recently gave me two separate, wonderful ones: A list of 1,001 books to read before you die. I have to read approximately 1 a month until I’m 80 to finish.

The other is a blog movement similar to a “Bucket List” or a grand “To-Do” list: 101 Things to do in 1,001 days. Criteria: Tasks must be specific (ie. no ambiguity in the wording) with a result that is either measurable or clearly defined. Why 1001 Days? According to Day Zero, the movement’s source, 1001 Days (about 2.75 years) is a better period of time than a year, because it allows you several seasons to complete the tasks, better for organizing and timing tasks such as overseas trips. I’ve included a sampling of my list below. My date of completion is July 30, 2012. Which incidentally is just a few months before the world is supposed to end anyway.

Travel
Travel to Australia- Done 6/24/11
Travel to Antarctica
See the Cherry Blossoms at New York Botanical Garden- Done 4/24/10
Do 5 touristy things in NYC- Done 6/20/11
Visit the Grand Canyon
Visit a state I have never been to before- Done 4/16/11 (NC)
See the Statue of Liberty close-up- Done 12/5/09
Touch the Pacific Ocean- Done 6/25/11

Walk within photo distance of lava

"Why Not" Adventures
Get scuba certified
Fly in a hot air balloon
Go sky diving- Done 7/4/2010
Go white water rafting- Done 8/7/2010
Get disaster certified
Go camping- Done 8/17/10
Apply for a game show- Done 3/26/11
Compete in a ballroom dance competition- Done 3/20/10
Run a marathon- 1/2 marathon done 4/3/10 Full done 10/2/10
Host Thanksgiving- Done 11/26/09
Attend the Macy's Day parade- Done 11/26/09
Shoot a gun (non-paintball)- Done 6/14/11
See a Cirque du Soleil show- Done 6/11/2010
Get really dressed up and go to the movies and a fast food restaurant
Get motorcycle license
Fly on trapeze- Done 1/1/2010
Break a record- Done 5/12/2010
Be an extra in a movie
Go to an art gallery opening- Done 12/2/2010
Dance in the rain
Win a prize- 7/9/10
Go kayaking on the Hudson- Done 7/24/2010
Participate in a scavenger hunt- Done 10/10/2010
Get a puppy
Get a massage- Done 12/11/10
Leave a note in a book for someone to find- Done 2/1/11
Attend 25 live music performances

Friends and Family
Send out Christmas cards- Done 12/24/10
Get new family portrait taken- Done 12/26/10
Have a 2nd date that is just as fantastic as the 1st and 3rd dates- Done but I'm not telling when it was ;)
Allow someone else to pick my dinner at a restaurant
Kiss at one of the wonders of the world (natural or manmade)- Done 6/16/11

Self-improvement
Go w/o caffeine for a month - Done 12/16/09
Become conversational in Spanish
Get a new tattoo- Done 12/30/09
Find a volunteer organization
Try sushi again- Done 8/4/10
Cook dinner for another person and the person lives- Done 6/8/2010
Unplug for one whole weekend- Done 1/17/2010
Finish a crossword puzzle on my own. Monday version counts.- Done 1/16/2010
Get rid of 50 things in my room- Done 5/10/11
Eat vegtables everyday for a month.

Grandmothers

2009-10-27T12:55:00.000-04:00

In the past six months one of my grandmothers turned 80 and one passed away. Even though they have completely different personalities and styles of grandparenting, I’ve learned a lot through their lives.

Most of the extended family was at my maternal grandma’s 80th birthday party this past weekend, including some of her brothers. It was fun to see that loyalty, unapologetic teasing, and the unique friendship only found within the sibling relationship don’t go away. I hope years from now Aim, Rob, and I will be entertaining our grandchildren with stories of: “Do you remember getting stuck on the rollercoaster (Aimee)” or “How about the time you tried to jump out of the window to practice fire safety (Robert)?”

Many of the other guests have known my grandmother a long time. They grew up in the same town, went to the same church, or had children who were the same age. The same thing happens when we go to the local donut shop; almost everyone seems to know Ruth Akers. It’s hard not to know her. She may not be very tall but her laughter fills a room.

Grandma’s ability to laugh is one of her most distinctive traits. Half the time I’m not even fully sure why she’s laughing. She has an inner joy that can’t help but be expressed. I come from a fairly competitive family, yet win or lose you laugh; and if you’re grandma the next game is “for the championship” until you win. She would allow us to do her make-up, always professing that she looked beautiful even though she had more on than a clown. She sings at the top of her lungs, whether it is hymns or patriotic songs. It is as if she feels anything worth singing is worth singing with all your heart.

The characteristic of living life without apprehension or self-consciousness is echoed in more than just her constant laughter and singing. I’ve met very few people in my life who are as grounded in their identity as my grandma. She knows who she is and is unapologetically so. Everything she does is based on her beliefs. I can’t think of a single time where her behavior has been hypocritical. Even people who don’t agree with her tend to respect her strength of character and her unwavering devotion. She is at the bedside of someone who is ill, donates money and time to people in need, and sees each new day as a gift from God.

My dad’s mom passed away this past spring. More than any adult I know, she had a gift for imagination and stories. It took years before I realized that the “Hundred Acre Wood” consisted of, at most, fifteen trees. She encouraged creativity in all forms and remained childishly inventive her whole life. Plays created from her infinite supply of puppets always received spectacular reviews. She was an aesthete, with an ear for music in any song played on the grotesquely out of tune piano. Cards and gifts from her were usually handmade or enhanced. The fundamental component of every room, already filled to the brim with interesting things, were books. She had a gift for teaching children to read and it is largely because of her influence, and the resulting impact on my dad, that I love to read. The written word became magical when she shared a story and many remain in my memory to this day. Each drawing and letter from her grandchildren, every essay written by a student, anything that was connected to the people she loved, she saved. Her house is filled with memories, her enduring story.

Adventure

2009-10-13T17:40:00.000-04:00

Adventure for me is an intriguing word. Growing up it meant simply “We’re lost. Be prepared for a very long car ride.” Adventure as a term had little to do with the actual event that motivated us to get in the car in the first place. It never applied to the museum that we explored or the experience of building our clubhouse, but to the cramped ride itself. As I got older it still held negative connotations. Moving would be an adventure, as would starting middle school. The tag “Adventure” was supposed to instantly inspire enthusiasm and infinite patience into otherwise unpleasant events.

It took a long time for me to admit I love adventure. The short hike on the “well- marked” trail spent wandering for hours making our own path, stands out from the other weekend hikes. The chance to go to a party where the only things I know are the address and the name of the date of a friend of the boyfriend of the host’s ex-roommate, is a small but exhilarating risk.

I live with controlled spontaneity, searching for the next story, the next adventure. I tend to speak of plans like they are guaranteed. It doesn’t work to tell me all the reasons I can’t buy a condo right now or why I won’t visit all seven continents by the time I’m 30. I’m aware of limiting logistics and choose to be excited for possibilities in spite of them. Many times logic catches up with the visions. But the times I live for, the moments that stand out against all others, are all the times where everything falls into place.

The other thing about adventure is one has to be willing to try again, in spite of hurt and disappointment and fear. I was going to Africa countless times before I actually went to Kenya. My sanguine nature tends to unconditionally believe all the pieces will come together. And if it doesn’t work… at least it will be an adventure.

I had a hard time coming up with a blog name. What defines me? Better yet, what do I want to define me? The blog titles of most of my friends revolve either around work or spouses. Although NYC is truly where I belong- for now- mentioning it in a blog title clearly distinguishes me as someone relatively new. While I’ve been in the work force for a while, I miss the days and nights of sledding on dining hall trays, playing volleyball in inches of mud, and starting a game of soccer at 3am just because. My title is an effort to strive for and see the possibility of adventure no matter what constraints are in my life.