We Survived!!

25 and I went backpacking over the weekend.  We've been camping together several times now, always car camping.  This was decidedly different.

I hadn't been backpacking since I did the Camino de Santiago de la Compostela in northern Spain.  Even then, it was like when I "backpacked" around in Asia, but always staying at hostels, not in a tent. In Asia, I could leave it in my room, throw it on the bus, boat, train, etc. For the Camino, I had carried my pack while I walked between 6km and 42km daily, from place to place.

For this trip we met the five people we'd spend the night camping with.  A couple of them are very good friends. We get along like family, for all the harassment that includes. I could spend lots of time with them and we don't rub on one another (too much). A couple of them were acquaintances that'd I'd not want to spend too many nights with. We made the hour and a half drive from the meeting point to Rachel Lake Trailhead. The next four hours were mostly spent staring at the ground as I tried not to trip and smash my face into any of the all too numerous rocks and roots that made up the trail. Roughly 4.5 miles to Rachel Lake with a 31.5 pound bag felt considerably longer.  There was a moment (ok, maybe several) where I asked myself why I thought this was a good idea.  I haven't been hiking in over a month. Heck, I haven't even made it to the gym.  Did I mention it rained/drizzled/misted on us all day Saturday? In hindsight, that was probably a lifesaver.  Our sunny descent on Sunday was fantastic but we would have baked going up in 70 degree temperatures.

We camped in view of the lake and were rewarded with some incredible views Sunday morning when the clouds finally blew away.

No snow when we were there!

One of the best and most important parts about this trip for me was knowing that my faith in 25 was/is well placed.  He never chided or chastised me for being slow. He always maintained visual contact and wasn't concerned when I wanted to stop along the way. We pulled together as things got tougher, not pushing each other about nonsense as we were tired and hungry. He told me I looked beautiful when I knew I could only look anything but. He was patient to the nth degree. He agreed for mutual benefit when I suggested that maybe we pass on the additional 3+ miles straight up and back to Rampart Lake. We really worked as a team to set up camp, make meals, clean up, etc. I don't think I can fully express here or even to him how far he's exceeded my expectations and burrowed even farther into my heart. I know that a good relationship is supposed to be a (relatively) equal partnership, but I suppose I've never had or really expected that.

We are planning a multi-night backpacking trip with a couple of the same people and a couple others. It will be one night of car camping and three nights backpack.  I couldn't feel better about my choice of team and tent mate. We have started preparing for that trip to the Enchantments by considering the choices we made last weekend and seeking to improve upon them.

If you don't hear from me in October, assume I either; A) didn't return from the mountain, B) maimed myself to the point I can't type or C) . . .

What a Difference Eighteen Months Makes

It occurred to me, while driving, as all the most important and inane things occur to me then, that I've been home roughly eighteen months now.

I wasn't the first of our brave band of Jakarta sisters to go.  La Rus went first.  She make the jump back to California.  I've been down to visit and reminisce. She's one of the few I still talk and text with on a regular basis.  Last week she was awed that her daughter is starting eighth grade.  I just saw her last year and I swear she wasn't nearly that old then. Guess that means age is probably sneaking up on us too.

I was the next to go, last February, landing more permanently in Seattle in March. Since then I started a new career and worked very successfully in it.  I've traveled both for work and fun. I'm in a relationship (gasp!).

I'm not even close to the one with the most news. The kiwi got engaged several months ago. She is posting out save the dates for her wedding in Bali next year.  What a great excuse to go back and help her kick off married life right.

There is yet another member of the tribe with even more news.  UK, my former sushi companion and life line for many a night in JKT, has not only been engaged, and been married, but she's become an incubator.  I'm secretly hoping for baby chicks but I doubt I'll get my wish. She's flown the coop and headed back to England while her hubby sails the seven seas.

That's a year and a half for ya. Who'd have thunk we'd all come so far in such a sort time?  And yet, it feels as though my days in Jakarta were ages ago.

In a mere year and a half, I've settled in to coupledom.  We prefer to be home, cooking, relaxing.  Gone are the clubbing days of staying out until 7am in the most random places in Jakarta. Instead of going to the pubs and clubs, I host beer and cocktail "parties" at my house, party being best described as a simple gathering of people. We enjoy a beerfest on occasion, a backpacking trip, a recent pursuit of vegetable gardening and such. Though I'd hoped for this, even yearned for it, I'd also kibitzed friends who had become "boring" in the coupledom.  Who never came out any more. Now, the kidding has come full circle.  25 and I went to a birthday party for his friend.  It was in Seattle.  She is several years younger than me so the gathering was in Capitol Hill, in a series of bars and clubs. 25 has never been a wild partier and drinker in the time I've known him. After a couple hours of awkward small talk with people we didn't know, and some quality time with his friend and her bf, we hastily make our retreat.  We still didn't get home until 1am and we were both knackered. The friend's bf said he knew we'd be the first to go, that it wouldn't be our scene.

I'm happy to admit, both to him and here, that he was right.

Thirteen months and Three Days ago

Thirteen months and three days ago, I flew home.

I left Jakarta.  Its been an interesting year.  I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I can't complain (not that it does any good anyway). In the last year I:

• made a few great friends and some good ones too,
• completed two mud run, obstacle courses,
• went snowshoeing, hiking, kayaking,
• took over the house after mom moved,
• visited California, Oregon, Montana and Eastern Washington,
• worked the majority of the year in a new field where I learned and excelled,
• went to two music festivals and several other shows
• dated and more specifically, I started dating one particular person, 
• started on the path to being a healthier, happier me physically, mentally and emotionally. 

My transition back to the ol' US of A was fairly smooth.  As with most of the big changes in my life, it was in a lot of ways made possible by my mom. She was the one who suggested I get in to Epic training, she housed me when I got home, she supported me as I learned the pros and cons of contracting work. I made myself get out and make connections, make new friends and have new experiences.

There are a few things that I miss about Jakarta.  Mostly the people. It's very hard to stay in touch with people half the world and fifteen hours time difference away. I occasionally miss having a maid but I've managed to get back in the routine of doing my dishes and vacuuming without any tears. I rarely tire of driving instead of taxiing around.  I do hate the cost of the car (insurance, gas, maintenance), but other than after nights of drinking, don't miss taxis much.  I definitely don't miss the lack of outdoor opportunities.  About once a month I get a real hankering for warung friend rice or satay. Other than missing my friends, I miss how far money goes there including traveling for weeks at a time to amazing places.

As you can tell if you've read many of my blog posts, I'm a list maker.  I constantly have to do lists, shopping lists, follow up on lists, etc. I didn't exactly make New Years resolutions but I've got a few lists.

I want to complete:

• 2 or more scuba trips
• 2 or more camp trips 
• 3 or more live music shows
• 3 or more trips to other states (first one at the end of this month!!)
• 4 or more mud runs
• 5 or more kayak outtings
• 8 or more hikes

We (the guy I'm dating and I) also have a to do list.  I'm really excited about it to be honest. It includes things that are touristy Seattle things, some more generic/routine things, some specific to us things. Not only have I met someone who indulges my list making, but also wanting to make a list with me. It's maybe the best list yet.

Snowshoeing Sales Pitch

"Cheaper than skiing and harder work too!"

"Gets you away from those pesky lodges" (with their hot toddys and roaring fireplaces)

 Insert commercial. Don't use the traditional an attractive blonde slaloming down the slopes, hair blowing out behind her, snug fitting ski suit. Instead, pan to a group of late forty to late fifty year olds in mismatched gear, trudging the the snow with their hair plastered down with sweat.

No wonder more people ski.

I haven't necessarily been one to follow the beaten path in life so maybe that's why snowshoeing is a good fit for me.

It's slower than skiing.  It's even slower than hiking, unless you can find a nice little hill to slide down on your tush in the midst of snowshoeing. I like that you can look around and enjoy the sun, trees, fresh air, without watching for things that you could run into thus ending your life.

It's calmer, for me almost meditative. Especially when breaking trail (walk on new snow and make a trail for your group).  It's such hard work that my mind doesn't wander, it's completely involved in the task at hand. 

It's group reliant, again, especially if your group is going to break trail.  Breaking trail is exhausting and one person can't do it for long by themselves. Snowshoeing also allows for conversation and quiet contemplation each in portion to the group.

I've read that snowshoeing is a growing winter sport here in the Pacific Northwest. I suppose ith the economic downturn, people are less able to afford or justify lift passes and the expenses that go along with skiing. While snowshoeing isn't completely free, I'm paying little to do it this year.  I bought a Sno-Park pass for the season $40.  My snowshoes are about five years old but in great shape.  I did buy a few clearance items (gloves, balaclava) to round out my gear.

My first trip out this season was to Gold Creek, near Snoqualmie ski area. Roughly six or six and a half miles with two good friends, E & Coors, that I know from hiking. On Thursday I joined a meetup group totally fourteen folks and we actually snowshoed Snoqualmie Summit.  We climbed up right under the ski lifts as they weren't open for the day yet.  The total distance was approximately four miles but lots of elevation.  The sky was bright blue, we had lots of sun and the views were unbeatable.  Sunday I've rallied three friends, Coors again, 25 and Tac, to join me for a trail that's a bit farther.  Bear Lake is a two hour drive so here's hoping it's worth it.  The trail is ten miles round trip if we chose to do the full route, but it's relatively flat.

 Trip two was a meetup adventure on Snoqualmie.

Yesterday's trip turned into more an adventure than planned.  We were a group of four (Coors, 25 & 1 other) and headed up to a trail in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest near Granite Falls. Our two plus hour drive didn't pay off as expected since we found very very little snow. A huddle and redirect sent us to Tonga Ridge, near Stevens Pass.  It was an hour reroute but still in the Mt. Baker-Snoq forest. The snow was a bit icy, and got icier as we trekked but it was virtually deserted.  Very beautiful.  The company was excellent as we blended quite trekking with good conversation. I'm still battling my boots as I ripped my blisters open again but I think I've got the rest of my gear and layering sorted out as I wasn't too hot or too cold.

Bullets and Booze

Well, paintballs and cocktails but that doesn't have quite the same ring to it does it?

A couple months ago I hosted a beer night.  It was Oktoberfest-y in intention. Everyone had to bring beer to share, with the caveat that it couldn't be a run-of-the-Mill-Budwiser-Coors type. There are gads of great local microbrews.  Combine that with inports and other US small batch breweries and why would anyone drink anything else?  Not to mention I've got some friends who are beer connoisseurs.  Some call us beer snobs.  I say we are selective. The night has a brilliant success.

A small group of four were intrepid enough that we venture on the the battlefield for paintball.  None of us had ever played before and weren't quite sure what we were in for. Danielle and I both had the sense to layer up.  I think we both had three layers on top and bottom.  The boys didn't think quite that far ahead.  Brendan ended up in just jeans with a t-shirt and sweatshirt on top. 

I'd covered our entry with a zozi deal (like groupons) and we'd each paid our $25 for gun rental and paintballs.  We were chatting and talking about the battle to come as we waited for our safety briefing when a big guy walked over and told us not to get hit in the nipples. That it really really hurt. He then proceeded to whine about it while clutching his chest for the next few minutes.  We all started to question the decision to play paintball. We were still milling around when that same guy came back holding his neck advising us not to get hit there either. It was unanimous that we either needed to start or bail.

That was when we got our rules and regs speech by a kid who probably spent waaay to much time on the paintball field and was trying to nurse a few scraggly lip hairs into a mustache. Don't shoot each other within ten feet, keep your mask on NO MATTER WHAT, how to load the guns, yadda, yadda.

Our first match was on the advanced, authorized tournament course.  It turned out to be our least favorite.  The spots to hide behind were all little bouncy castles. We played two life elimination which means if you get hit once, you go back and touch base then get to go again until you are hit a second time.  In actuality what happened was I got hit once, went back to back, followed the advice of the scraggly mustache kid and got shot almost immediately.  As I retreated hands up to show I was already "dead" I then got pelted three more times. The rest of my group had the same experience.

I think I did improve.  It wasn't but a game or two later that I got my first kill.  A few games after that we were combined with several other groups to make bigger teams.  We were on the beginner course.  Brendan and I were on the far right side watching in front for targets and in quick succession were both hit in the left hip, from nearly behind. No one from our team went left when we started so we'd been flanked by the enemy. We were both rather cross about it. By the end Eddie had taken two shots to the head, Brendan one.  Most of us are sporting some very purple or at the least red bruises on our thighs.  I've got a large plum like one on my left bicep. Despite all that, I'd go again.

The final game was on the first course.  It's running around trees, in mud using simple plyboard standups as cover.  I managed a couple kill shots and ran two guns out of ammo without getting killed.

Muddy, bruised and telling tales of glory, we headed to my house to clean up.  Pizza was ordered and we waited for others to arrive. This time it was a cocktail party with a concept similar to the beer nigh.  Everyone bring a liquor.  I provided tools (shakers, jiggers, strainers, swizzle sticks), mixers and garnishes. Each participant was to have a recipe in mind and we'd share. 

Pineapple upside down shots, rootbeer floats & creamsicles (no ice cream!), mojitos, vesper martinis, the Mel's special, egg nog martinis, straight samples of grappa, tequila, and moonshine made for but some of the choices.

Part of the reason I can host these events is that I have enough soft surfaces to cushion the walking dead who are unfit to drive.  This time around that meant five extra extra folks.  I'm a bit embarrassed by what a terrible morning after host I was.  I did manage to get Danielle to Seattle for her Bolt Bus and Eddie made it to the church on time, as it were.

Chris mentioned that now, we must surely be due for a wine night, though I think I may need months to fully recover.

Bumbershot

It was a fantastic extended weekend.  The weather couldn't have been much better, especially considering it's September in a fairly northern city.  No rain at all.  The evenings did get a little chilly but it was mostly cloudless and lovely.

Danielle made it up from Portland and was a great concert buddy for Saturday and Sunday. We saw a lot of shows together and a few solo ventures.  Michael joined me on Monday for a shorter last day.  The crowds were much worse on Monday and someone said it was because Skrillex (the show you couldn't have paid me to go to) was performing Monday night.  We had to pass on The Wombats because the line was so long. Some of the beer gardens were the same.  Saturday and Sunday were much more manageable and in terms of crowds, more enjoyable. 

The food was mostly as expected.  The most disappointing food were the Parmesan garlic fries which managed to look and smell of both Parmesan and garlic but taste like neither.  The pork skewer from Monday was probably my favorite, though the Thai coffee and tea was stellar too.

Strangest moment: ooo, tough one.  The Unicorn in gold platforms? The Elvis impersonator on a tall unicycle carrying juggling batons who never juggled? Watching Lovebomb a go-go, a marching band and dance troupe dressed in varying degrees of white and sparkle? I'm going to go with the people watching.  There were lots of different and interesting folks to look at, or avoid looking at as the case might be. It was another example of the fact that Seattle accepts all comers.  You name it, we saw it.  Colored hair, bad hair cuts, too much/no enough clothing, costumes, face paint, piercings, a default tattoo show, pets, a parade of bad fashion choices, etc, etc. 

Happy non-music moments: The inflatable T-rex (until Danielle ruined it!!), finding a coconut earring shop that had business cards with guys who must have been from Bali on them, cute free monster stickers, getting 45 free shampoo samples that I'll donate, free silk screened canvas bag with a cool Bumbershoot logo (worth the 45 minutes in line), randomly bumping in to some girls I know. Most important -  laying on the grass, in the sun with GREAT company listening to good music and enjoying being back in Seattle. 

Music recap tomorrow!!

A Rare Moment

I'm not speechless but I do find myself with little to say.  I've been very busy trying to make the most of my remaining time in Indonesia, I rarely have an evening to myself. I have consolidated the radio show and business class into a single night of back-to-back busy-ness and fill at least three of the other four weeknights with dinners/get togethers.

It's year end at work which means overall reports.  If you'd like more information on that please see this blog.  I am happy to report that I finished the grade 4 scores a day before they are due and with much less stress and hassle than previously.  Its makes sense that I'd have my system down pat about the time I leave.
I've also lined up several upcoming trips.  My friend Donna and I will spend Christmas Day winging to Penang, Malaysia to spend a night and then truck up to Phuket, Thailand.  We'll travel together for about a week.  After she returns to Jakarta, I'll carry on for almost another three weeks.

I have a ridiculous five days of work at the end of January to complete my contract.  It's not even a Monday - Friday; it'll be Wednesday-Friday and the following Monday and Tuesday.  I'd hoped to squeeze in a trip to Lombok and the Gili Islands in February but that is in serious doubt now.  I'll have to wait until then and see if I have any cents left (note the intentional spelling there).

I return to the land of red, white and blue the second week of February with hopes of an interview that week.  I'll be at home long enough to unpack and rest before going to Puerto Rico for a wedding of two fantastic people I met in Spain.  Lord knows I couldn't pass up the opportunity so I'll be there a week.

That aside, there are a few things in a bigger picture but that picture is a bit fuzzy now and shan't be discussed yet. Hopefully I'll find something adequately inspiring to write you about tomorrow.

Thanksgiving

A few simple lines for Thanksgiving.

I'm grateful for my family who have always been there for me and supported me in more ways that I can recount.

I appreciate my chosen family, my friends, now mostly here in Jakarta, but also those in Madrid and elsewhere.

I'm thankful for so many opportunities to travel this year.  I have seen so many amazing things and met some wonderful people in a variety of places.

I'm excited to be moving back to Seattle, and close to my family.  I'm almost as excited that I'll be living in a city where things work in a logical way (even if a lot of things in the States aren't).

I'm happy that I will be eating a big turkey dinner with some American friends even though I'm half way around the world and twelve to fifteen hours ahead of Thanksgiving in the US.

I'm thankful I've had some visitors here to Jakarta before I leave.

I'm appreciative of my colleagues.  They aren't my social circle, but they are (mostly) good folks who help me keep what's left of my sanity at work.

I'm happy at the mild success of this blog.  I didn't think I'd care how many people read it, but I do get a thrill when the daily views are high and there are comments.

Lastly, I'm more than pleased to have been around for another year to do all that I have.

Have a very Happy Thanksgiving.  Even if you're not American and this isn't your holiday, take a moment to silently be grateful for something or someone in your life.

Random assortment

Things I saw from the back of my ojek last week:

• Another motorbike with FIVE riders.  That's a record and the kids weren't even toddlers!
• There's a lumberyard I pass every morning near school that has a big sign with an elephant walking on what looks like corrugated tin.  It says "Elephant Fiber Semen" because of course the Indonesian word for cement is semen.
• In 80 degree weather at 3:45pm, a guy with two big rectangle blocks of ice balanced under his knees on his motorbike.
• A big advertising board on the side of the road announcing "Indonesian Submission Championship".  From the picture I gather it's something wrestling-esque, but I don't forgive the name.  The time was shown as 9-finished and all I could think was that it would be until everyone gave up. 

Recent Korean translation gaffes:

#1 - Divides the absentee report guidance (embassy cooperative request fact) door overseas today. Distributing entrusting gives in the students. If teacher charge will give when the students will bring the application and the passport copy and [ket] [e], will refer with the administrative thread and staring the plan which will send with the embassy from the administrative thread puts on. Teachers the object person draws up and together under submitting becomes hour cotton. Will respect the minute when the declaration is more necessary and, at extra in each school office to furnish will put. (From the Internet knock-down receiving serviceable) Cooperative entrusting gives  (I'd love to know what administrative thread looks like)

#2 - Friday is a temporary schedule. The leggings schedule the charge schedule spring to confirm, to inform. Grateful ~

and 

#3 - Democratic criticism as a result of commemorated the conference from, unifying composition saying and thanks in No-GO of teachers the rice cake and the fruit neatly with the intention which prepared. Hold tastefully from each school office. (Thanks in No-GO of teachers? was it something we went to or that we didn't go to then?)

In realizing I don't have a lot of time left here in Jakarta I'm going to try to start compiling the things I'll miss.  Today's edition:

Jen and I are really close friends.  She's the person in Jakarta who's known me the longest and knows me the best.  We suffered through EF together, and escaped at the same time.  We've been on holiday today and gone hunting together. When we're out and about we people watch and because we don't know them, we make up code names.  In the last three months or so we've used a variety including: Roly-poly, The Hat, The Lion, Dutch, Frankenstein, 12 words, British creeper, Pedo, Diva, Julian (who is another friend but this wasn't him), Teeth, Fish, and Shark. I'm going to miss someone that gets all that and helped create it all.

Visitors from Outer Space!!

Not exactly, but from Jakarta, Madrid may as well be. Al came to visit from Madrid a couple weeks ago.  He's a friend from a life many moons ago. He'd written to say he had some time off and was thinking of coming to see Indonesia.  I encouraged him to come and see the tropical jungle that is.


He arrived in Jakarta and navigated the taxi to my apartment without much trouble. The bad news of no duty free vodka was quickly supplanted with jamon, salchichon and cheese from España. Oh rapture. I still haven't opened it.  I had a hard time giving him even two days worth of things to see and do in Jakarta.  He stumbled around my neighborhood in the blistering heat  and accomplished very little.  That's the true welcome to Jakarta.  Spending lots of time and energy to not get a lot done. In less than a day he say Kota Batavia (the old Dutch fort), Monas (the National Monument) and I met him for a walk around Al-Istiqlal, the largest mosque in Southeast Asia. We made the most of Friday night and the girls met us for a big night out.  In this one area, Jakarta doesn't disappoint.  The proof was in his hangover the next morning.

He jetted off to Yogyakarta while I carried on at school.  We'd made plans to meet in Medan when I had mid-semester holiday. I stayed in Jakarta to enjoy the All Blacks win of the Rugby World Cup and took a flight out to meet him early Monday morning. We met up without incident and had a couple good days in the jungle.

In his time in Indonesia, he was able to see bits of Sumatra, Java, Bali, and the Gili islands.  Not too shabby for only three and a half weeks. When we parted ways I thought I'd see him again before he left for Spain but that was not to be.  Plans are never certain in Indo. All the same, it was fantastic to have a friend for the outside world come to visit. I'm not expecting that again any time soon though maybe once I get to Seattle I can convince some folks to come and see my amazing hometown.

Hold for an Announcement Please. . .

I am trying.  I know I had another blog hiatus, and that you all probably don't care enough to make me feel guilty but I do. I'll try to recount some of the recent shenanigans in a coming post.  Today though, today is an announcement. 

I'm leaving Jakarta.  I will lose the last of my few remaining marbles if I stay.  If you've read more than one of my blogs, you've figured out that I'm not a big proponent of Jakarta.  When other travels say "Oh you live in Jakarta?! What's that like?" I usually tell them it's shit.  There are amazing, beautiful places to see in Indonesia. . . Jakarta isn't one of them.  In fact it is one of the absolute last places you should bother going.  If you have to fly in to Jakarta to connect to Bali, Lombok, Sumatra, wherever, book your connecting flight out the same day.  Aceh has Sharia law, you know the one from Saudi Arabia that allows the government to hand out sentencing like being stoned to death or allowing a father to kill his daughter for dishonoring the family.  Yeah, that's the one.  I'd suggest Aceh before Jakarta.

That being said, there is one reason it's difficult to leave.  Or six.  Namely, Jenn, Julia, Donna, Carla, Zoe, and Sarah.  Vicki you're not on the list because you'll already be gone. You get the picture. I've made some very good friends here.  We've held each other up and sometimes helped each other hold it together.  We've made our own family when our own were so far away.  We have drunk, danced, ate, partied, swam, gossiped, traveled and been ill together (not all at once luckily).  They have been my sanity and the best of my insanity.  Through changes of jobs, temporary boyfriends, and loss of other friends. . . through the seasons, of which there are only two a year, they have been there.  I hope I have been there for them as well.  I think they'd say I have.

I have been a makeshift social coordinator for our little band of thieves. I'm the one who sends out messages about gatherings, bringing people together for food and frivolity. I don't doubt that life will go on without me here, but i doubt all these people will hang out together.  I've been told such a thing happened in Madrid.  I'd brought people from all different point of my life together in Madrid.  When I left they went back to their respective spheres of the city, no common point to attract them.  For this reason I feel bad leaving. We've had such good times together I wish for them to continue despite my absence.

I will be returning to Seattle.  There is a career opportunity there that I'm hoping to take advantage of, not to mention spending some time with my family.  They've not see much of me in the last five years or so. They're looking forward to seeing me.  They're almost as happy as my dog will be when I walk in the door and don't move away again in three weeks. I realize the things I'm most looking forward to are some of the simplest:  seeing my family, my own bed, walking my dog, parks, sidewalks, four seasons, Mexican food, American boys, drinking tap water, etc, etc, etc.

More about this to follow undoubtedly but now you know.

Ex-boyfriends and best girl friends

Not that my best friends are dating my ex-boyfriends.  These are two separate ideas I'll throw out but seem some how similar in my mind. Both have been an emotional pull this week.

Ex's are always a bit tricky.  Three types I figure:
1 - I've had some who I never saw after the final goodbye.  It made things infinitely easier to be able to walk away knowing the odds I'd run into them in the supermarket or at the pool would be low. 
2 - There were a few I stayed friends with.  It's those rare relationships that sort of mutually fizzle out.  You both realize you still care for and like the other, but you don't love them, and you sure as heck don't want them around every day. 
3 -  The ex's you have mutual friends with.  Ex's who frequent the same places you do. You know you'll run into them it's just a matter or when and where.
4 - Maybe there should be one more, the ex you wish you could get back but I haven't had any of those given a month or two's reflection.

My last ex and I broke up at the beginning of July.  I was unsure how things would go down in the aftermath.  He was quite the ass when things ended (well, before that really but who's counting).  I was away on holiday so much I didn't see him until a week ago. It turns out he's trying to grow a straggly beard and looks awful.  Before you assume it's just me, I'm not the only one who thinks so.  A fantastic friend of mine told him as much to his face.  The girls in general agree he's looking haggard.  Maybe you do reap what you sow.  I was surprised I was nervous knowing I'd see him (I did have a guess when I would).  Since he seems even less interested in seeing or talking to me, it easy to carry on enjoying myself without having an awkward "hello, how are you" moment.  The inevitable ex is one of the least fun parts of a relationship.  At least I've had a triumphal first and second sighting and have definitely moved on.

The second part here is about girl friends.  I have a great group of girls here.  Growing up I always seems to get on better with the boys than the girls.  I played and watched sports.  I took shop class.  I didn't fuss about my hair and clothes.  Tomboy. In Spain and now again in Jakarta I've made some amazing girlfriends.  Girls who show up unrequested when the shit hits the fan, who dance with me at 4 am, who go on holiday and buy trinkets for each other.  We share clothes, hell, we share a lot. We're close.  I love them. . . . but there's a tiny part of me that wonders if I wouldn't be better off with some  uglier friends. 
My girls are beautiful and interesting and funny.  We make fun where we go. They always get hit on.  Recently, and unrelatedly, two of my male friends have decided to hit on/be involved/whatever with two of my female friends.  These are guys I knew first and introduced to the group.  About 98% of me is happy for them, but there's this little bit that wishes I didn't feel like the ugly stepsister. And I do. I can't say I never get hit on.  We were at EP on Wednesday and a properly creepy Brit (what is it with them lately?!) not only stole a kiss- I went in for a cheek and he turned into me intentionally- but also smacked my ass.  I'd only just met him. The good looking guys we see in pubs latch on to the tiny Indo-American, the voluptuous American, the feisty Russian, and on and on and on. I don't need to get hit on or picked up every time, but is once or twice to much to ask?  If I do meet someone, it's when I'm without the competition and as of late, they turn out to be less a catch than I'd like.

Enough for the pity party.  I'll move on and promise you all another blog this weekend to make up for not posting much this week.

Weekend Recap - and an EP free one

Hello Monday!  You've crept up on me once again.  I always know you're coming and yet feel shocked (in the least positive sense of the word) when you show up a-knockin'. Why do you continue to torment me so?  Can't we reach an agreement about this?  I'd be much happier to see you if you rolled up at, say, two o'clock. I'll even greet you warmly at twelve. This six am stuff is a bit ridiculous though, don't you think?

Courtesy of sodahead.com

It wasn't even the biggest, epic-est of weekends so I can't blame a hangover for my lack of enthusiasm.  Friday brought a nice surprise with it.  BoT woke up with a migraine (not the nice surprise) but it meant he was sent home early and made it to my place by about eight (he usually works until ten). We had a chat with Carla and fired friend, then a excellently prepared (by me) dinner of salmon and veg.  Half a movie to round out the night and then off to dreamland.

Saturday isn't always a welcome sight, but a far better one that you Monday.  Even with a hangover!!  BoT was, quite literally, bouncing around the apartment.  He'd forgotten what a Saturday can feel like if the Friday night that preceded it included only a couple beers and a full dinner. Add in seven plus hours of sleep and he had the energy and enthusiasm of a Jack Russell with a coffee problem. The smile on his face meant I couldn't look at him without grinning too. I made a big breakfast, just to give Saturday a running start, and we had a nice relaxed start to the day.  The afternoon brought with it a long taxi ride to a football (soccer in American) game where BoT's team won I think. The game also included two of my colleagues, fired friend and a host of other misfits hailing from about the globe. Afternoon gave way to the dusk of evening and a house party/BBQ.  The taxi ride there was no less than two hours and we were all in agony when we got there. Graciously, we ushered Saturday into the annals of history with Sam Adams beer (YES!! In Indonesia!!), steak and vodka. I was the only girl in the pool and that was not of my own accord.  I am grateful that fired friend let me save my phone by tossing it aside, but not so grateful that I got the shivers while waiting for a taxi home.  The end of the night brought about a strange trip home that ended with BoT making a chivalrous and a "more warmly received than he realizes" gesture.  He had to explain it but he's right, he walks on the outside and that's all he needed to say.

 

Sunday snuck in like a mouse, which is fine by me.  It didn't storm in like you Monday.  Sleeping until twelve meant I wasn't obliged greet the day at six am.  Even waking at eight for a half hour was acceptable.  A call from fired friend roused us and we headed to the pool for several hours of lounging. Episodes of Blue Bloods and a batch of meatballs with pasta wrapped the day in a little bow.

It was a (nearly) drama-free, EP-free, hangover-free weekend.  It was not a bruise-free, family in bed-free, hilarity-free weekend, which is as I prefer. My only real requests in retrospect about last weekend are that it lasted longer so I could both continue lounging and get some errands done and that someone's phone wasn't lost/stolen, though I was happy to have her around all weekend as a result. Yes, you hon. ;)  I will aim to appreciate you, to look forward to a Monday.  Hmmm, how about the eleventh of July? I will enjoy that Monday as it is the first one of summer vacation.  Until then, they'll most likely continue to feel like this:

Where's the off button on this thing?

The winds of change, or at least of semi-pandemonium, seem to be blowing lately. Everyone I know has plans, issues, frustrations and excitements that are causing life modifications and such.

Here in Jakarta, it's the start of summer.  How do you know in an equatorial country?  It's not the temperatures, although I have seen a recent uptick in mosquitoes buzzing around. It's summer vacation.  The first schools went on break about two weeks ago.  As is routine here, all the teachers have made plans to get the heck outta dodge (JKT) for as long as possible.  My good friend Julia left on Monday to the States.  Donna will head out on Sunday, then there are two more departures on the 22nd and 25th. That also means lots of going away events even though the majority of us will be back by or before August. My school started late after Christmas (we weren't up and going until February) and as a result we aren't off until July.  I think I'm the last one to take off.  The current plan is Vietnam, Cambodia and then a destination to be determined. The girls are off to the US, England, Wales, Australia, and Bali. The crazy thing is that once back, we all have a short turn around to another holiday - Idul Fitri at the end of August.

Courtesy of myfirstholiday.com

Plans are being updated, changed and added to.  Then there are people who are going to see others.  Carla is getting a visitor from home (NZ), and I know some people in the US who are on the move.  Everyone seems to be electrified with their personal possibilities.  It's a grown up version of Christmas.  It's an event we look forward to for weeks or months, counting down, planning, preparing and yes, spending sleepless nights thinking about it.  The mind starts to spin at the possibilities.  Where do go?  What to do?  When to leave? Options, choices, contingency plans.  And then when those are all set out, life makes a change for you (or against you as the case may be)  and your brain is set a whirl again.

And this is how it feels!

A couple people in my life who are in flux for work. BoT will be changing jobs for lots of reasons.  Now it's a matter of working out the timing and the details.  Fired friend has, after much drama and indecision, stayed in Jakarta.  He's got an offer but it exploring other options. There are a few folks whose contract end dates are approaching and beyond then their lives are a blank slate. The song "Do I stay or do I go now?" comes to mind.

Courtesy of aorticdissection.com.  Don't we always hope?

Lastly there are a couple people who are involved in relationships that will require one of the two parties involved to move. Not within the same city, but significant distances so they can continue on together.  Long distance relationships only work if there are plans to get to the same place as far as I'm concerned.

Courtesy of kartoen.be

Everyone seems to be exhausted but unable to get more sleep.  There are two categories.  Those, like myself, who can't manage to get into bed early as there are things to be done.  Once I hit the pillow, I think I can count to two and then become entirely unconscious.  There are those in another category who, even if in bed, can't turn their brains off.  There are plans, plots, schemes, ideas that abound.  They are busy hypothesizing, interpreting, conceiving, suggesting, and comprehending things. What I'd like to help them do is to find their own, personal off button. 

P.S. Apologies for all the lists today.  I didn't realize my "to do list" mood was spreading!

Weekend Recap - Jump into June

My life in Jakarta may be a lot of things, but it's rarely boring.  Last weekend was another example of that to add to the countless others. The plans were fairly simple, I thought. This was the last weekend that everyone was here before people start leaving for summer holidays. Last week I sent out the all call via facebook that we would be going out for jsut that reason.  Friday night - dinner and EP.  Saturday night - dinner and dancing at X2.  I was hoping Saturday day to run some errands with BoT and then have a lazy Sunday by the pool.

Courtesy of liberalartsduq.wordpress.com

What actually happened was that BoT couldn't set anything for Friday.  His boss kept talking about after work team drinks on Fridays but then it would never materialize. They all left work two hours early to go for drinks after two guys got fired; one is BoT's good friend and roommate. Not only was it a surprise, the last thing you really want to go do after a firing is have drinks with the boss. The boys, as good British boys do, went "a-drinkin" and I didn't hear from him after 10:30.  I did see the fired friend at EP for a goodbye drink.  The girls went through two bottles of Jose Cuervo and I surprisingly had only two tequila/sprites from the bottles. Instead I was "bartending" as the mixings were all on our table. I saw a heap of people who are other regulars at EP, some of BoT's footie boys, and we even met a Mexican named Carlos who sounded like Rango. After tucking a drunken friend or two into taxis, I headed home with Carla.  There we had this bizarre lasagne her maid had cooked. Now we know why the Italians, and not the Indonesians, do pasta. There were cukes oddly, but not nearly enough cheese, tomato sauce or flavor.

AYYYY Jose!  Por que estas siempre con nosotros? Que fatal!!

 Saturday was a slow start but improved rapidly upon my descent to the pool.  Carla and I sat there from 11:30 until nearly three.  The sun was out, we had tunes, snacks and good convo.  We both agreed that in someways, life here is pretty darn good.  Then we went up to our respective apartments for naps and showers.

It was about four pm that I finally heard from BoT and what was happening.  They'd tried to find a way to keep fired friend in town.  It was like a tennis match - he was staying, he was going, he was staying but had to change his flight, he was going because he couldn't change his flight, he was staying but not with this company. I nearly got motion sick!   I went out to dinner with a couple of the girls and then we headed over to X2, a dance club, as planned.  We got there and others started joining.  We must have been twenty strong or more at some point after midnight.  It was brilliant.  BoT and fired friend even made it out. The dramameter then ratcheted up another notch.  One of the office girls from their company was at X2 and threatened to go to the boss (which she did on Sunday). Nothing here is ever simple.

We traipsed home about 4:30 and tucked snugly into bed, not to be roused before noon on Sunday.  The weather meant it wasn't worth going to the pool.  Instead it was a video, eating, lounging in the apartment day.  My favorite kind of Sunday.  I am still holding out hope that someone will institute a third weekend day, called Restus, in the spirit of Festivus and to be taken literally. Two days to see people, have fun, run errands and rest is not nearly enough.

Courtesy of cartoonstock.com

A last note, I was honored to hear that I inspired someone else to blog. It gave me a warm, happy glow. She's a newbie here in Jakarta and is trying to deal with the acculturation. Her worry was that it would turn into a winging, ranting, complaining spot.  Don't we all deserve one of those?  I've happily joined her site and will be reading along.  We haven't met in person yet, but I hope to before summer holidays. I didn't imagine that my blog would be anything other than my silly anecdotes for the benefit of my friends and family (who are obliged to read.  This means you JENJEN!!) and the random stranger who finds me mildly entertaining.  Perhaps there is more to it.

Weekend Recap - May terminates

After the rollercoaster of last weekend, I am very pleased to report this weekend went much simpler and smoother.  Friday night was drinks with the girls at Loewys.  Only one hitch there which I didn't discover until Saturday.  I'd started at the bar and gave them my bank card to open a tab.  When all the girls came in we moved to a table for eats.  At the table we all threw in cash, as usual, to pay the split bill.  I completely forgot my card and went into a minor panic on Saturday.  First I thought I left it in an ATM I'd also visited Friday night.  Luckily they are holding it for me until this evening.  Whew. You were wrong Ian, they didn't buy the bar rounds on me all night. Thank goodness!!

We had a couple drinks there and then BoT sent word that he was finished at work.  It had been (a bit of) a hellish week for him.  Overtime everyday, ridiculous new procedures.  When he works 1p-10p as it is, overtime is really a killer.  The boss thanked them by letting them out an hour early on Friday.  He and the boys came down for a couple drinks.  After one at Poste, we all went our separate ways.  Mine was home.

Saturday meant meetings for BoT and a cleaning/organizing spree for me. I haven't had one in a while and the place looked good.  The maid had just been on Friday but I'd made a bit of a mess after she left and then threw things around after I got home Friday night.  Evening time meant a nice dinner with Carla and Donna at Toscana.  I can't figure out why we don't go there more often.  It's about 10 minutes from home, reasonably priced (especially for the pasta dishes) and tastes good.  The real selling point is that the music is kept at a din so you can have a conversation.

Dinner gave way to drinks at EP.  Good Ol' EP.  It's our standard.  Our favorite band there was on.  The boys had a footie end of season drinkfest, so were already there.  Plus we were planning to watch the Wembly Championship Barcelona vs Manchester United game at 01:45am.  A good time was had by all.  No one passed out, no one went home alone (well, not all the way home alone).  Nothing stolen, no tears, no bloodshed.  Brilliant.

Sunday was a recovery day, as I feel we should be allotted every week without it cutting into the weekend.  An hour or two at the pool despite the overcast did us all some good.  I cooked a remarkably good meal considering I used what was in the fridge, and all I could find was chicken, half a carrot, some onion, not ripe tomatoes.  Add some sauce and serve over rice.  I think I surprised myself more than anyone else.  Add an inane movie and I by 9pm I was dragging.

BoT was sweet enough to agree to my place since I have to be up at 6 and he doesn't. As always, but especially as of lately, 6am came waaay too early.  The kids have pressed their luck today but the good weekend will buoy me through at least today and hopefully a bit of tomorrow.

When I fall apart

As I have vowed not to discuss my love life, or lack there of, as more than a fleeting shadow, this blog post is tricky. Its not the easiest vow to adhere to.  There are times when I'd like to gush about the wonderful, serendipitous, slightly maudlin (insert something fantastic or amazing here) that just happened. Other times I'd like a full on, internet rant to bitch about the awful, unfair, heart wrenching thing (again, insert one here) that happened.  Because I know there are actually a few folks out there reading this, and some of them may be people who I see or correspond with, I am not convinced allowing myself to do either gush or rant is a great idea.  Especially on the internet where nothing is ever really gone, ever. Just because I delete it and can't find any trace of it definitely doesn't mean that a more tech savvy twelve year old couldn't find it and exploit my one moment of stupidity in internet publishing.

Courtesy of debretts.co.uk.   You won't hear more from me than this.

That being said . . . I'm going to walk the line a bit today. There will be a slight (like ephemeral fog on a sunny morning) mention of some sort of infatuation element.  I won't go into detail, but for now, it's as close as I'll get to a mention of there being a man kinda in my life-ish.

My friends here in Indonesia know all about the drama from last weekend. It was a perfect storm of the way Jakarta can louse up plans, a lack of communication, an additional lack of phone with which to communicate and lots of drinking (not on my part).  He pulled a 180 on me and I was totally over-turned by the events and they're unexpected nature. Since it's all still new and (now less than) shiny, I had only a short history for comparison and was sure it was all intentionally inflicted agony.

I was one part crying, upset woman

It was three very long days for my friends, I'm certain. There was shouting, and pouting, crying and rationalizing.  There was definitely sulking and confusion.  That was all on my part.  My friends must have been tired and thoroughly irritated for having to put up with me.  Zoë especially.  I know she must have been because I would have been.  She was at my side both Friday and Saturday nights.  Yet, she never betrayed her calm, patient exterior.  That's what a friend is.  It's someone who will let you moan about the same guy for two straight days, over dinner, through drinks, and never cut you off.  She never said I wasn't justified, that I should just suck it up, give up. Or if she did, it was with the softest sell waiting to see if I jumped on that boat.  There were a few people that did. They found out rather quickly how poorly that would go over with me in the state I was in.

and one part Calvin angry tantrum.

Zoë put up with me longer than anyone else, but she wasn't cast in the role of sole supporter.  I found myself encircled by girls who held me up and held me together all weekend. Lest the girls get all the props, there were two sweet boys who did everything possible to make me smile, and both succeeded.  Who'd have thought an American guy and a Frenchman would be the ones helping me regain my sense of humor and smile?

They joined the small flock of lovely ladies that did everything they could to simultaneously support, vindicate my logic, trash the person in question, rub my back and just let me cry. They were there in person, on blackberry messenger, and in my thoughts.  To the family I now know I have in Indonesia, thanks.  Next one is on me.

Courtesy http://www.zocalosacramento.com/2011/04/21/tequila-festival-may-2nd-6pm/

Riding the wave, or just attempting to hang on to the board

As much as I wish this blog post was actually about surfing, it's not.  It's a blog about a pattern in my life.  This unintentionally follows on the heels of the magnetic field hypothesis which would make sense for waves.  I wish I had planned it that way, but let's just say subconsciously I did.  A big part of me would like to assume that it's a pattern that occurs for most people, but I have no idea really.  It seems like something very Malcolm Gladwell via Blink or Tipping Point, based in sociology and psychology. If after reading this you have an opinion (to agree, disagree, alter or call me a total crack pot) I encourage you to do so.

courtesy of hickerphoto.com.  See?  One right after the other! Up and down

This is a theory that has taken shape over the last couple years.  I think that my life moves in waves.  Some might say it's cyclical but I find more resonance with the idea of high and low troughs of the wave, potentially the water too though there is the water cycle. There are the high points when things are all flying along.  I can get a taxi with only a minute wait, my friends are around and available for dinners, drinks and general indulgence, I go out on a date or two, the money is if not plentiful at least sufficient.  These are the times that life is really good.  More than likely there's something coming up for me to look forward to, concerts, trips or the like.  My only slow down is myself as my social calendar is packed! This is when the life of a social butterfly is everything it's cracked up to be.

courtesy of alysband.com.   If this were a true representation the drink would have tequila in it.

Just as every high tide is followed by a low, and the crest of a wave has the accompanying trough, the contentment can't last forever.   The money runs short after an emergency or two, the men seem to vanish (figuratively if not literally), no one can be found for a pedicure date or even free beer night.  It's never just one event that turns a crest into a trough, a high into a low.  It's normally a mass build up of five, then eight and the twelfth "something" is what pushes me over the limit.

courtesy of ineedmotivation.com.   One cut isn't the problem, it was the 14 before that were.

Now that's the overarching layout. Since I began formulating, I've also noticed the waves in smaller parts of my life.  After nine weeks in a row going out every Friday with the girls, I get tired.  I need a weekend in, often on my own, to regenerate.  Maybe even two or three weeks away from the club and bar scene.  Then, I find myself rested and itching to go back, which I do. I pull away, sleep more (or enough at least), read, relax and have my time.

courtesy of cartoonstock.com.   I'm not that bad, but I do drop off the social radar.

One day I have a craving for microwave popcorn following six months when it didn't even cross my mind.  I proceed to have microwave popcorn every second or third day for three weeks until I'm totally sick of it and don't want it even at the movies.

courtesy of deartheonion.wordpress.com. 

I have a great group of girlfriends here, bigger and probably closer than any group of girlfriends I've had before.  Before you blast me, those of you who I am/was close to in Spain or the States, this is a small pack that's tight knit for lack of many other community options. As a group we are all close, where Spain were different factions of a group that did get along when all together but rarely were all together.  That all being laid out, for three weeks I might see one particular friend a dozen times.  We discuss certain things that they "get" more than others, we have similar available times to meet up, and just enjoy each others company.  Again, after a couple weeks, there is a burn out factor.  I just need to expand back out to a different part of the group.  I don't cut that person out of my life, but might need or want to back off from seeing them all the time.

I've just come out of a short trough, but it was a deep one.  All the waves seemed to bottom out at the same time, nothing helping keep me afloat. It was a combination of many factors, some which are still mid-resolution. I occasionally wonder if I'm bipolar, though I feel like those highs and lows would be more frequent or without external provocation.  Either way, after this most recent low I wanted to give thanks to my mom first and foremost, who is always my rock and anchors me to a truer version of reality that I sometimes create for myself. Also to all my lovely, amazing friends who have come to understand that I have ups and downs and are willing to roll with me all the same.

Barbeques are not all the same

A week ago Saturday we had a housewarming.  "We" was a friend who lives in the same building and I.  She'd been in these apartments for over a year, but had recently changed to a different apartment (10th floor not 2nd).  I stayed in her old place for about five weeks before and after the holidays, but now have my own place there.

Based on the fact that neither of us could fit more than about four people in our respective apartments, we decided to use the pool area. It's a big beautiful pool, with a few chairs and tables scattered around and a tiny "grassy" patch.  Grass here isn't really grass, it's these funny individual green plants that are fairly resilient and you can walk on it. The invite said we'd be barbecuing but as we are just teachers, it was BYOB-Bring your own beverage.

The turn out was great, I think about twenty people turned up in all.  Some came late, others left early. The rest of us were there for the duration.  I'd been worried about the weather.  Jakarta has reminded us repeatedly lately that it's the wet season.  There was rain on Saturday, but it rained the best way possible; three five-minute intervals within an hour span.  It was like someone turning the faucet on and off.  Once we finally packed up and headed down to the pool, the rain stopped and didn't bother us again. It wasn't a sunny day, but it was bright and dry so I didn't complain.

We'd bought a little bbq.  This thing was about a eighteen inches high by maybe a foot across.  It was small to say the least.  I assembled it before going down to the pool.  We had briquettes and lighter fluid as well. I wasn't worried because I used to bbq in the States.  Yea, things are different in Indonesia as you can tell from just my blog alone.  It took three people an hour, multiple efforts and several strategies before we gave up and I cooked the sausages upstairs.  With paper, with cardboard, with more and then less lighter fluid, fanning the flames, briquettes stacked up and then less so. An Aussie friend assured us (two North American girls) that he could get it lit because he was Aussie and male.  Didn't happen.

courtesy of topnews.net.nz.  My barbeque at home looked a bit like this and was waist high. 

courtesy of csagroup.com.  Barbeques can also look big and fancy like this.

courtesy of zedomax.com.  Or even mammoth like this. 

courtesy of alibaba.com.  This is what ours looked like, standing about knee high and it was just as flimsy as it looks.

While I did have a great time, I was happy to see so many people come out, I was the host and therefore exhausted by the end.  When I host events it's about making sure the people I invite have a good time.  I cooked food, I mixed drinks, I handed out food, I cleaned up trash, etc, etc.  That was very much the case after this bbq.  I prepped food Friday night, got things packed and ready Saturday morning, shuttled everything down stair (four of us did), and then hosted.  By the time people were leaving at 8 or 830, I was pooped!

I won't go into the details, but the night ended really poorly.  I was convinced to go out to a dance club and the night went drastically downhill.  I'm not sure if I feel emboldened to have another pool party since this one was such a hit, or if I dread having another due to the work involved and the residual sour feelings this one left in my mouth.

Roommating

Living with people from other places is always interesting and often informational.  Late last week something came on TV and Carla asked me about Spring Break, the American excuse to go to Mexico or Florida, drink way, way too much and act like an idiot.  At least that's what I assume happens. I don't know as I've never been on a "typical" spring break. I don't provide the best example of a "typical" American or a "typical" adolescence; maybe not even a typical American.  I've been told several times in the last month or two that I may not be American.  I nearly got my "American card" revoked during the World Cup series as I cheered for Spain. An Aussie, after hearing me spout my socialist beliefs acquired in Europe, was only half joking when he asked, "Are you sure you're American?"  I usually take it as a compliment.  Two weekends ago Carla and I met a German at our favorite bar.  He announced decisively that I was surely the Kiwi because I looked more like one.  You can see the photo of us below and we look quite similar so I'm not sure what he was eluding to. We had a laugh and another beer.

New roomies at home.  I'm on the left.

We've been comparing notes.  I tried Marmite last night.  It tastes like soy sauce mixed with a packet of powdered gravy and then congealed until its the consistency of fudge sundae topping. I'd eat it instead of a salt lick, but in general would pass.  I''m a big fan of the onion dip, though we make one in the States that's nearly the same. She has got me on these silly rice crackers though. Last week I made grilled cheese sandwiches; ruddy bread with butter on the outside, pan grilled with Australian cheddar inside. She claimed they were good, to which I beamed. We're both bringing foods back from our respective countries after the holidays.  I'm looking for some super American stuff to wow her with.

Carla's also learning to speak American. We've been talking about what different words we use for the same things.  That is trickier since she's lived in the UK for a couple years and I was in Spain so we both speak a muddled English.  I'll start keeping a list so I can report back.

I keep forgetting that she's going home to the middle of summer.  Carla keeps reminding me that there's a hole in the ozone above New Zealand so she'll get really tan while she's home. I'm not as tan as I'd like to be now but more so than most Seattleites. When I come back from four weeks away I'm sure I'll be even paler. I can't imagine it being warm at Christmas.  Lord knows Spain wasn't.  I think it still doesn't really feel like Christmas because it's so balmy, as it is year round here.

I was a bit tentative to move in with someone again, even for a short while.  That being said, all my fears went quickly out the window and we've had a smashing time so far. Fingers crossed that we carry on just as well until I get my own place in February.  I am looking forward to my own place but with Carla as my neighbor, same building, different floors.