Alcanzar Una Estrella

Back in 1990 I was given another opportunity of a lifetime. (The first going to a boarding school in Switzerland – thanks mom and dad). I got to participate in an exchange program with La Universidad de Guadalajara. I wasn’t sure the ParentalUnits would approve or be able to afford it, but as it turned out they not only approved, but a semester in Mexico was WAY cheaper than a semester at WSU. So I applied and was accepted. I got notified of the family I would be living with and in August of 1990 I was on an American flight bound for Guadalajara.

I can remember packing that summer and feeling a bit odd about leaving my friends behind – again – and jetting off to a new adventure. Knowing I wouldn’t forget it… Ever. I almost backed out. Friends being all important to you in your late teens. But I had the ticket and my passport and I knew I’d be coming back. I knew from after the TASIS experience that my life would not be the same and those relationships with my friends would be strained and then different when I returned. Yet I knew the true friends would support me and be sending me reese peanut butter cups in the mail (Thanks blueberry).

Landing in Guadalajara I was petrified. I had 7 years of Spanish at that point and upon stepping out of the jet way forgot how to even say hello. The family I was to stay with the – oh god, what was their last name…? Um…huh? Gone…Their last name...- anyhow, the mom and dad met me at the airport. The immediately reminded me of my grandparents on my parents side. She was tall and authoritative; he was shorter and immediately seemed very loveable. I knew instantly though who ruled the roost. Ariana and Salvador where their names.

As we drove through Guadalajara – they pointed out sights and gave me the lowdown on the school. I had a couple of days before I had to register, and they were certain I’d be settled in by then. And they were right.

The next day, Ariana took me to the school to get registered. It was about a mile away and we walked. All along the way she gave me pointers on how to be safe. After registering, she took me to the cathedral downtown and gave me the historic walk through. I was in awe. Guadalajara wasn’t anything like the border/tourist towns of Mexico I had expected. It had, culture. People everywhere. People crammed into local busses, hanging out the doors as the bus waddled along belching noxious black smoke out their tail pipes. (I’d later discover that blowing ones nose when one was in such are area produced black snot – I’m just sayin’.) Still I couldn’t get enough.

The family was fantastic. I quickly learned that the mother doted on everyone. I did almost nothing for 4 months. I barely had to pour milk on my cereal – she took care of it. She could cook like there was no tomorrow too and I begged her to let me help her and learn. In fact, I still have her recipes. They’re all in Spanish and I don’t dare try to translate them now.

I had a roommate there too. Another exchange student from WSU. She was blond and skinny and all the Mexican boys were attracted to her. But she was nice and fun and we got along great. She had some complications towards the end of our stay that tested my ability to not only speak Spanish, but to keep myself together in a crisis in a foreign country. Good times.

Right, so after staying in Mexico for so long, I learned to think in Spanish. I can’t really explain it, but my mind just worked in Spanish and I had to struggle to think in English when I’d speak to my parents. Then when I came home, I had to almost retrain myself to think in English. It was very bizarre, but man was I fluent. I watch Spanish TV almost nonstop (Univision). I was still addicted to the Spanish Novelas and had to keep hitting them to keep fluent. (By the way, Salvador used to joke about the soaps being called “novelas”. If you separate the word you get No ve Las…which basically means, “don’t watch them.” – funny huh? ) One such novela stuck with me, Alcanzar Una Estrella. The lead was a hot Mexican boy and I was so infatuated – Eduardo Capetillo. The song has been stuck in my head all morning. And wouldn’t you know it…YouTube had it.

Obsess much?

So I have, on occasion, found myself a bit OCD about things. I can't help it really. It's part of this wonderful DNA I received. Basically, it's built in.

Usually my obsessions are harmless. Nothing more than a few loss dollars and maybe a bit of sense along the way. This year's obsession is one that has surprised even me. Blueberry is calling for an intervention if it keeps up. Which is too bad because I'm sure I won't find the time to meet since all my time has been given to one thing...reading.

I've always liked to read. I love how my imagination takes flight as I read the words. I'm particular about what I read too - shocking I know. If I don't get interested within 25-30 pages, I move on. I have no problem putting down a book and never picking it up again. I have friends who do have that - we'll call it "issue". You know who you are too. I, do not.

Since the start of this year I've read about 37 books. Now, before you get all, "omg she needs a life" on me - I do, in fact need a life, but that's not the point. The point is I'm reading like it's the only thing to do. I've been addicted to Nora Roberts of late. Not overly complicated literature I realize. And each book is pretty much like the last with a few small items changing, but I can't stop reading them. I can take down a NR book in 2 days - reading only after work and before bed. Which if you do your math you'll realize I run out of books pretty quickly.

Enter local library. Yay. I stepped foot into a library - on my own fruition and without needing to study. It smelled the same. Libraries always smell the same. The librarian was the same older grey haired lady with her bra strap sliding down her arm and large horn rimmed glasses with a chain on them. She's scary, but helpful. The air is full of the smell of old, musty pages, flipping dust into the air with every turn. Dewie and his decimal system still in tact after all these years. Though admittedly a lot of the books are now sorted by author name instead of an assigned number...but still...it's the same.

What isn't the same is the enormous amount of technology libraries have today. I'm a smart girl, one who can figure things out relatively quickly, but I gotta tell ya, ordering books online and trying to figure out when and if they'll be available for me to pick up has been nothing but a hard time. I did get the hang of it though and currently have 7 books on hold that will be ready for my pick up within days. And returning books. OMG. It's a matter of sliding up to a machine that resembles an ATM, scanning the bar code and letting the little conveyor belt take the book away. No more stamping the fronts with dates for return, no more dumping the books in a big huge metal bin...it's all automatized (is that even a word?)

But despite my library-ness of late I bought 4 new books that are a new vampire series (only they spell vampire vampyre - which is just weird and wrong). It's the House of Night Series. I've started the first of 5 books, Marked. Its no Twilight, but they are surprisingly entertaining. I love how each new vampire series has a new twist on vampires. For example, Twilight has the vampires around during the day and attending high school and acting as if they are "vegetarians" in that they don't drink human blood. The Sookie Stackhouse series (The books HBO's True Blood series is based on) has the vampires coming out of the dark and integrating into world mainstream. They announce to the world that vampires do exist and they are living among you. Great set of books, by the way. Now the House of Night series has the vampires, or vampyres being "marked" to be turned in to vampires. No biting to turn them, but instead they get this funky tattoo on their fore head. Marked usually in high school, so they then have to attend this vampire high school. All very odd I know, but it's fascinating to me how a topic that is hundreds of years old can be turned to fit our world today.

So...House of Night series is my new favorite obsession. It's my obsession, yes my obsession. OMG I've forgotten how TOTALLY 80's and how TOTALLY horrible that video is.

Welcome to the Church of the Holy Cabbage. Lettuce pray.

Ahhh Monday...how I really really don't like thee. But alas, here we are again. A new week for new adventures. Huh, that's weird. No new adventures scheduled for this week.

The weekend, as weekends do, flew by without really stopping for a glass of wine. When asked what I did this weekend, all that came to mind was - eat.

Saturday AM I had to start my day off right with a good solid breakfast. Someone, who shall remain nameless, was craving pancakes like a month ago which prompted me to buy pancake mix and syrup. And now, every Saturday I make three pancakes. Interestingly enough, Pancake #1 is always undercooked. Pancake #2 - over cooked. But pancake #3 is always just right (where have I heard that before?). I need to find a way to start with pancake #3 and then make 3 just like it.

Then as if dough for breakfast wasn't enough, I met Seattle Sis-in-Law and one of the other crab hat ladies for dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in town, The Mediterranean Kitchen. They have the BEST, most garlicky hummus that I've ever had. In fact, I had so much garlic pulsing through my innards that I couldn't even pick up my most recent vampire book to read.

ahem

Anyhow, their portions are enormous. For the price you pay you easily get two or more meals. So Sunday "brunch" was left overs. Even though I hadn't fully recovered from eating so much on Saturday night, I felt the garlic call to me and had to help myself on Sunday for "brunch".

Then I went grocery shopping. You should - and by you I mean me - never ever go grocery shopping while you're hungry. I spend way more. Thankfully I stayed WELL within my budget this Sunday and got a little exercise walking around and around the store.

Sunday night it was dinner at the Keg for Blueberry's free birthday meal. Bigbro, Sisterinlaw and blueberry and I signed up for the birthday club. So for the month of your birthday you get a free steak dinner up to $23.95. It's quite a deal if you ask me. We're thinking about signing up our entire family. One per month regardless of when their birthday is. They'll never know.

Sunday night I was, again, miserable. You'd think I'd learn. But that "old dog new tricks" thing was in attendance. I swore I'd never eat again. (hahahahah yah, right).

I did do other things this weekend besides eat. I spent several hours in the scrapbook room organizing, and inputting recipes into my crazy recipe database that I'm obsessed with. So far this year I've tried something like 37 new recipes. And considering I put in an average of 10-15 new ones each month, I'll never EVER get through all my recipes. So I'm starting to be very particular about what makes the cut for the recipe bowl.

Aside from all the food, I did finally get caught up on some TV shows, as well as finished yet another book. I so need a life.

"Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though sometimes it is hard to realize this” - Henry Ford

For reasons I can’t really explain, I’ve been thinking about my first car. The one that, as a teenager, I wanted to prove I was somehow cooler than I was. You car, after all, defined you right.

My parents, thankfully, weren’t the type to go out and buy me my first car. It certainly wasn’t from a lack of me wanting them to. Instead it was there way of teaching me the valuable lesson of earning your way to something you want. That being said, when the DadUnit was offered an opportunity for this car, he jumped at it. I mean who wouldn’t? The previous owner basically told dad, “If you tow it from the back yard – you can have it.” And so dad, being dad, towed the 1971 White Ford Country Squire station wagon (let’s not forget the wood paneling). He put 4 new tires on it and a fresh battery I think and handed me the keys.

Not exactly the car I had in mind. No, I wanted a much slicker Mustang of some type…1966 or 1967 convertible perhaps. Instead, the other Ford and I got along.

This car was a beast. And by “beast” I mean – I could fit 15 friends in it at once – not that I did that ever or anything (Hi Mom…thanks for stopping by). This car had black vinyl interior – which is AWESOME in Southern California. Yah, your thighs hitting that black vinyl on a hot day was like frying eggs in a skillet. I quickly purchased my first car accessory – a beach towel for the front seat.

Despite the hideousness of the look of the car, it did get me around, barely at times, but around all the same. It got like 8 gallons a mile too – and I’m not joking. Though back then gas was less than a dollar a gallon and school was only like 4 miles from home, so I could go for a bit on the gas I could afford to put into it.

I have two favorite stories surrounding this car. The first is about good friends of our family, Dick and Maryanne Holly, who came to visit. They drove up to our house in a motor home I think, to stay a week or so with us. Dick offered me a trade. If I’d let him and Maryanne use my car while they were here, he’d fill it up with gas before they left. To a teenager who never EVER filled it up past a quarter tank, this was like winning the gas lottery. “Of course you can use it,” I said in my most innocent of voices. The week progressed and Dick took the beast out to fill it up. Upon his return he looked white as a ghost and exclaimed that he never EVER would have made that offer if he’d known it had a 20 gallon tank. I stood silently with my sheepish grin in the corner.

The second story revolves around my BFF Laura. She and I at some point were inseparable. We did everything together. She and I had been out on a Friday night just doing teenage girl stuff and stopped to get some ice cream – cones to be exact. We didn’t stay at the ice cream shop for too long before we got this wide twig to drive up to the Manson Mansion. See the urban legend for our area was the house that Charles Manson and his followers lived in was just up a dirt road up a hill in our neck of the woods. So yah, hell yah, I was in. We got in the car, ice creams in hand (what? It was an automatic beast that basically drove itself…I didn’t have any problems with an ice cream cone in one hand and the steering wheel in the other) and off we went. Neither one of us really knew where this supposed house was, but we toodled our way into the dessert. Looking back now it was probably the dumbest thing we ever did because the car wasn’t exactly a 4wheel drive and overly reliable – and this was WAY before cell phones. We could have been stranded for weeks before anyone found us. But I digress.

So here we are toodling up a road, in the dark, out in a part of the desert not overly inhibited, when suddenly a garbage can was in the road. I swerved to miss it and hit it straight on. Slightly dazed and nervously giggling we dredged on. The warm black hard top road suddenly disappears into a narrow, slightly bumpy dirt road. I stopped the car. We stared at each other and quickly decided that was enough.

Now, the Ford Country Squire Station Wagon had a turning radius of well – I guess you could say – it didn’t have one. There was no way to turn around. So I had to back all the way down this road/hill, in the dark, in a very uninhabited part of the desert. Of course, all the while we were freaking ourselves out by stories of getting lost out there and what if there were still Manson followers up there. I didn’t think that ford could get to the speed we got it to to get home.

I only really got in trouble once that I recall with that car too. The “rule” of the house was I could ONLY drive it to school on days we had rifle practice (I was in the band color guard – rifle captain to be exact). Well, on one particular day I decided to drive it to school. We didn’t have practice, but I knew I would be home WAY before mom and dad were. It was a normal sunny, windy day in Quartz Hill – but it was a bit dark for when I had to get to school. I left the lights on. Though I didn’t realize I had left the lights on until ALL the busses had left for the day. I don’t really even remember how I got home. I just know dad had to take me BACK to school to jump the car. Let me tell you, 4 miles doesn’t seem very long normally. But when you’re in a car with a VERY pissed off dad who never yelled, but lectured…that four miles could take a lifetime. I’m sure I was grounded for that one.

I make fun of the car, but secretly I was proud to have something to call my own. It wasn’t bright and shiny, or brand new, but it was very functional. It served its purpose. And it will forever be a part of my memories.

OMG I Totally Missed My Calling...

So first and foremost...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLUEBERRY (one day later).

There now that that's out of my system. What did we do for Blueberry's birthday...well go to the roller derby of courst. Which, as you know, counts toward my Forty new things for 40!

The rest of the photos are on Flickr should you feel the need.

Let me just say, I so could have been a roller derby girl. The MomUnit can attest to how I was a roller skating fiend in my youth! I was at the rink almost every weekend. I could go backwards, sideways, shoot the duck (go down in a squating position with one leg extended), I was fast and I could crash like the best of them. In fact, truth be told my FIRST kiss was on the roller skating rink with Tommy something or other during a slow skate.

ahem, but I digress.

I WANNA be a roller derby girl in my next life. There's a whole sub-culture that exists that we had no idea was there. These chicks...and that's a nice term for them, are brutally awesome in their own roller derby way. A lot of them I'd not want to meet in a dark alley, ever. Buff, tough, and seriously good at what they do.

Upon entering the arena Blueberry and I were "tagged" by a very tall, beefy woman with red lipstick and black eye liner, I wasn't going to argue with her when she wanted to put war paint on our face. Little did we know that was a team we'd be rooting for. Then we found the Rat ... had to stop and snap a photo with the Rat. He stunk too...wow did he. (PhotoGirl, The Rat, me, and Blueberry)

The first bout was just okay. It gave us a chance to wade through the "what the hell is going on". We had no idea what the rules really were - we had an idea, but weren't able to put them in perspective. The "jams" (2 minute game for lack of a better word) were so fast and furious that you couldn't really tell what was going on. They had like 6 refs, they had penalty boxes, and 10 derby girls on the route smashing, skating, and body checking each other. What sane person could figure this out? Being a very sane person, I wandered off to find rule books, which helped a bit more.

Each bout has two 30 minute periods. A jam is 2 minutes unless the lead jammer calls it off - which they do by slapping their hips. The "pack" was responsible for basically not allowing the lead jammer through. Each time the lead jammer looped the pack points were made. It was all so interesting and odd and exhilarating.

There were two bouts last night: Bout 1 Sockit Wenches vs. Throttle Rockets. I know, right? Great names. Bout 2: Derby Liberation Front (DLF) vs Grave Danger. We then found out that Blueberry and I had been tagged by Grave Danger - so despite the fact that DLF were the favorites, we had to root for Grave Danger.

So Bout 1 was just okay. The chicks could skate and there was some fantastic battles out there. But out 2....WOW. The first jam starts and you could almost see our entire group scoot up to the edge of their seats. THESE chicks were going to be brutal...and they did not disappoint. Their skating, body checking, snarling, jamming, everything was that much better than the first bout. It felt like watching the Mariners after watching the Aqua Socks.

By the time the second bout came, well, about, we knew what was going on and found ourselves cheering with the rest of them. We never did get the scoring right. After each bout we'd chat about how many points we thought the lead jammer got, and we were rarely, if ever, right.

All in all, I'm going again. AND I need a Roller Derby name. Two, well three, were mentioned last night when I said I found my calling. 1) Jentle Death; 2) Jentle Wrat and 3) Mentle Jentle (Thanks Yank for that). But some of their names just cracked us up: JoWanna Asskicking; Mona Lethal; Darth Skater; Crash Gordon...and much much more...so see, I need a roller derby name.

PS - Who ever left me the Anonymous comment - first who are you - second - sorry I didn't root for DLF...but I so would if I saw them again...they were quite simply AWESOME!

On my signal, unleash hell...

Deep breath.

Hold it.

Slowly release it.

This has been what I've been doing for the past three days. Stress has been my partner in crime. It's had hold on my life and was refusing to let go no matter what I did.

I can't release too many details about the stress maker, but can tell you that I had to go interview at a large software company in Redmond for a large project we are in the running for. They wanted to check my project management skillz! And them skillz are mad, let me tell you.

I found out about this interview last Friday and waited, somewhat impatiently for the official time. We got that time on Tuesday and then he hounds of hell were unleashed. It felt like a combination of studying for my PMP again, packing to move and interviewing for a new job all at the same time. I knew the win/lose of this wasn't on my shoulders, but I sure couldn't get it out of my head that if we lost it, I could be responsible.

I'm very confident when it comes to my PMing. I've learned a lot, and have a lot more to learn. This interview went well IMHO. It could go either way, but I felt good when it was over today.

In other news, I'm going to the Roller Derby this weekend. Blueberry turns a whopping forty-one and we're celebrating by going to the Rat City Roller Derby. WhoA! Last year during one of our walks we passed a roller derby bout underway. We stopped momentarily to watch and we decided that it would be a blast to go. And so here we are going for Blueberry's birthday. It's unlikely I'll bring my big camera. They're asking to sign a release form that I'm not sure is worth it. But never fear...there will be photos...oh yes...there will be photos.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a tall dark bottle glass of wine with my name on it.

The New Top Model: PookieSnackenBurger

I got bored a couple of days ago and pulled out the camera for Pookie's most recent photoshoot. There's a small, very small, insecure part of me that thinks I shouldn't be sharing photos of my cat to the world - you know - getting that "Crazy Cat Lady on the Corner" title. But, he's a ham and a half at times, and while he was being cooperative I shot these.

Post 3 Day Weekend Wrap Up

This should be quick. I can tell you all that I did over the weekend in pretty short order. In a word...nothing.

That's right...nothing. But in between the nothings time, I did a few other things.

Went to a new restaurant on Friday night with the Newlyweds (or Stalemates - I need to come up with a new nickname for them). We tried this little grill called Oddfellow's in Redmond. It was quite possibly one of the best burgers I've had in this area. And that's saying a lot considering I got the "must have cheeseburger" gene from The MomUnit. If The ParentalUnits make it to Seattle this year I might have to take them there.

Oh I had to work a little on Friday too - even though it was technically a holiday for our office. There's a part of me that's fine with "helping out". Then there's a part of me that gets ticked off because I had to work on a holiday, and I'm pretty sure they don't pay me enough for that. But like I said, the "other" part won out in the end because I do like my job and my company.

Saturday I was lazing around the house wondering what to do all day when the phone rang. It was a colleague from the UK asking to help download some files. 8 GB of files. Guess I found out what I'd be doing on Saturday. I watched the files download and crash for 4+ hours and decided perhaps a quick run into the office would be a better way to download. I was wrong. I gave up after 45 minutes and figured I gave it my best - since it was a Saturday - and that would have to do for now.

After that I had a hair cut appt in Edmonds. Off I went - got my coffee - sat in Starbucks and drank said coffee with my book in hand. I hadn't gotten two sentences read when a woman plunked down across from me. I glanced up briefly, and caught her eye. She - what I consider - squealed in delight because I happened to be reading the same book as her. Which then meant we had to talk about the characters and the story and where we were in the book. Get this, we were 3 pages different from each other. Weird right? Anyhow, post small world adventure I got all my hair cut...and short too. Edmonds isn't so close to me anymore so I put off the cuts longer than I probably should.

After cut, I went home and cooked dinner. Speaking of cooking, I've updated my cooking blog to a cool new template. It makes me hungry every time I look at it. Go check it out. I'll wait. I've posted 25 new recipes already in 2009. I'm sure I've tried more, but that's all that seemed to make it to the blog.

My neighborhood has a new puppy in it. I met her last week. She's a white German Shepard that has feet the size of Texas. She'll grow into them eventually. Anyhow, she was out and about with her people when I noticed that she was wearing bunny ears. I laughed so hard at the look on this dogs face with these enormous feet and enormous ears. Oh it totally made my day.

Yesterday, I cleaned. I did laundry. I read. I watched some saved TV shows. I gawked a the amount of rain that was falling from the sky and wondered if Noah and his Ark would be stopping by. I made Hunter's Stew for dinner, and watched my new favorite movie. Bolt. OMG...it's such a cute movie. If you're a dog lover, and you've not seen this little animated gem, I highly recommend it. It's Disney and has some parts to it that are so "dog" behavior. If you don't know about it, here's the trailer.

And with that, I'm off to the chirocracker...

Set your course for adventure, your mind on a new romance…

Did somebody say cruise? Okay, if you insist, I’ll go on a cruise. But only because you insisted.

The MomUnit “twisted” my arm into going on a 7 day cruise with her, The DadUnit and a few other characters. We’ll be cruisin’ the western Caribbean in January…which is 8 months, 18 days away. But being the ever studious planner that I am, I started to check out the port of calls today.

Our port of calls? Well, we’ll start in New Orleans(NO). I’ve had NO on my list of places to see eventually. I’ve no desire to be there during Mardi Gras or the Jazz Festival seeing’s as I’m not a big fan of crowds. Yet, NO has called to me and the photographer in me wants to spend hours/days/weeks wondering around their old cemeteries. That and see the French Quarter – or what’s left – and a few other sites. So we’ll start there. I’m hoping I can talk the ParentalUnits into staying a couple of days on either side of the cruise. I’m sure it won’t be too hard…I’ll use my inherited persuasiveness – aka Guilt trip.

From there we’ll spend a day at sea. I’m not 100% sure I’m going to enjoy being out in the middle of the ocean. The control freak in my might have issues with not being able to see land. But we’re working on that particular personality – um – quirk. After that day at sea we’ll land in Costa Maya. Costa Maya is in Mexico. It’s a small town, I suspect a tourist town and so will be bombarded with “hey lady, want to buy … ? Is cheap.” According to Google Costa Maya is in the state of Quintana Roo…which is a weird name for a Mexican state. I can’t help but wonder how different their food may taste though…being “that” side of Mexico. Wikipedia told me about a bunch of little towns/villages around it all having a lot of “X’s” and apostrophe’s in the names. I might have to pull out the handy dandy Spanish Dictionary for this trip. The Currently Planned Excursion (or CPE) will be to Chacchoben Mayan Ruins. I’m a big nerd about ruins. I love to go to ancient places and see what is left of them. Buildings that have stood for hundreds of years. It’s what keeps me wanting to go back to Italy. Way…Back…When during my trip to Cancun – the single solitary reason I wanted to go to Cancun was for Chitza Nitza….More ruins. It was fantastic. I think I took 10 rolls of film just there (that was back when cameras held film.) It was spectacular…as well as the torrential downpour that day during our tour…oh yah…good times.

Right so moving on. From there we go to Santo Tomas de Castilla - Guatemala. (Side bar: When I lived in Guadalajara in 1990 I had a friend who couldn’t remember where I was between Guatemala and Guadalajara and so called it Guatalamara.) Hun…anyhow, there is, of course, an excursion that goes to some ruins sorta…again. This one will need to be figured out at a later date.

From there we’re off to Belize City. It didn’t take me long to know that I’ll be taking the excursion to Altun Ha. Another, yep, site of ruins. Apparently there’s a nine and a half pound jade head of the sun god Kinich Ahua there. Oh yah, gotta see that. Did you know that Belize is the only South American country in which English is the official language? It’s one of the only facts from one of my college classes I actually remember.

After spending the day in Belize, we’ll be in Cozumel. Cozumel is an island in the Caribbean off the Mexican Yucatan peninsula. On the aforementioned trip to Cancun, we got down to Playa del Carmen with is just outside Cozumel. But from Cozumel the best, and most looked forward to excursion will exist…to Tulum.

Tulum are – yep Mayan ruins, but they sit on the coast. When in Cancun we tried to figure out a financially capable way to go to Tulum – but couldn’t. So I put that aside for another day. And another day will be here in January 2010.

From there we head home. I’m sure by then after being cooped up in a room with The ParentalUnits for 7 days we’ll want to be well rid of each other. (Hi Mom…just kidding). The cruise is freestyle which – thank god – means no formal wear and it’s eat when/where you want. Part of the reason I hadn’t gone on cruises before (there are several reasons actually) was that there was always this “formal” night and you could only eat at certain times and it was all a bit much. But now, The MomUnit has twisted my arm…so I must comply with her wishes. It is, after all, the good daughter thing to do.

Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!

Oh good Lord. It's a beautiful day here in the NW. The sun is out, slight breeze in the air, the temp is at about 70F...it's beautiful. Its Spring. And by spring I mean thousands of teeny tiny, itsy bitsy pieces of pollen that have found their way up my nose and pushing my eye balls out of my ears every time I sneeze. And sneezing is what I've done today. I lost count at 23. My nose is getting raw, my eyes are red and watering, and my kleenex box has become my best friend. Time for a trip to the drug store for allergy medicine.

This weekend was a Twilight weekend. Blueberry and Chicken Lady stopped by last night to have homemade Chicken Pot Pie and a viewing of Twilight. I'm still not as big of a fan for the movie as I was for the book. Still it was entertaining. We drank wine, we ate appetizers, pot pie, and chocolate and we debated vampires. Good time.

Achoo! Sorry, I don't have much more...need to go blow the schnauz and curse the best time of year in Seattle.

I Was Here!

Since I'm not actually walking in the 3Day this year, I decided to put my talents into volunteering. I've been doing their Getting Started meetings of late (8 total so far). At each meeting they go through what to expect, how to raise $$, how to train etc and they show this video.

I cry.

I get the song stuck in my head. (shocking I know)

There was a meeting tonight and I listened very carefully to the lyrics of the song and teared up just thinking about the song being an anthem for myself. At one point the lyrics say, "And I know, I know that I will do something than just pass through this life...I'll leave nothing less, nothing less than something that says, I was here!" And that struck a serious chord with me. (That's an intended pun by the way).

I realized I want to be remembered for what I did. For the mark I made. And I want to be sure I leave a mark. I know I'm not the most generous volunteer out there, never planned on being that. But the fact that I'm giving back, the fact that I've done the 3Day and continue to support a cause that is my statement in a way...I'm very proud of that. And whether anyone remembers me, they may remember I was here and left a mark.

And if you're feeling up to it...go visit the 3Day videos...get a kleenex. You've been warned.
http://www.the3day.org/site/PageServer?pagename=Videos