oh, father time...

it's been awhile since my last post. hopefully my 3 followers can forgive me ;)

so much has happened since the last post. ie: be prepared for a post of disjointed statements, observations, etc.

i had an epic fight with my best friend. words are not enough, for the words that were said. i must daily remind myself that actions were also taken. behaviors were persistent. i wasn't necessarily in the wrong. yet...it still hurts. up and down, back and forth...will we ever be true friends again? my heart breaks. my eyes instantly moisturize. WHY. sigh.

there were two guys i was interested in. both christians--a dream-come-true? well, perhaps, but not MY dream. within one week, if i recall correctly, i discovered that what had seemed like such obvious flirting was not. that i had misinterpreted, that my friends had misinterpreted, so many signals. that just as i was ready to speak up, i was spoken to. and the words from both men were the same. "i love her." and i, of course, was not the "her" of whom they spoke. is this my role in life? the confidante. the 'elaine' (only i don't even get the benefit of having been considered dateable in the past.) i felt stupid. i felt ashamed. i felt so so many bad things towards myself. inside i was screaming at the world..."i'm tired of this! i'm tired of being the girl on the sidelines; the girl you always pass by! i'm so much more, i can be so much more, all you have to do is say so. that's it. one word, and i will love you wholeheartedly. i have so much to give; so much to offer. you have NO idea how much i have to offer; spiritually, intellectually, emotionally, and physically." i was enraged. i was furious. i was torn up. heartbroken. but i was still there for them. because whatever i'm not, one thing i AM, is a good. friend.

i have a number for a case i opened with the local police department. i have a case registered w/ the organization wired safety. for i had a cyber-stalker. ridiculous in this day and age, no? (sarcasm.) it was disturbing. but i will be okay. i only hope the other victims, of which i definitely know of one; will be as well.

i participated in the local 48 hour film festival. i helped write one film for a team, and helped do everything (acting included) for another. it was so much fun. i saw my face on the big screen, in an actual theater. i am really happy about that. :)

i need a new job. i need more money. but i'm terrified to act. i don't have any sense of direction. or do i? muddled mind. should i go back to school? (grad school). for counseling. hmm.

i miss travelling. i miss being mid-air; flying through the sky, dancing with the clouds and seeing teh world as the forefathers never imagined we could. i miss the anonymity of being a stranger in a strange land. i miss the new discoveries. the food. the faces. the sounds, smells, and sights. i miss the privacy of my own hotel room. i miss the luxury of letting go and seeing what happened. i miss the freedom of the traveller's schedule. i miss everything about travelling. i miss edinburgh. i miss auckland. i miss sterling. i miss wannaka. i miss it all. i miss portland, even. i miss the twin cities, even. i. miss. the world...

i have learned how to do the cha-cha. i have learned how to samba. i love to dance.

i am stronger. yet more vulnerable. but in an okay way, i think...

manic monday

nobody would begrudge me, that much is clear. then again, is that the only reason one should go? it should never be about what other people are okay with. not about their personal opinion of you. although, if they are people who would be affected by your decision, and you do care about them quite deeply, maybe it should matter. but now that circumstance doesn't matter. because i know now--i KNOW now, they wouldn't begrudge me.

breath.

where would i go?
who would i go with?
why now? how do i know? where do i look? WHAT DO I DO!?!?!?!?!

i need to learn to trust in SO many areas of my life right now...and maybe moving to a new place, all by myself, would help that. or maybe it would hurt it.

i need direction. desperately.

last day in new zealand + my day in L.A.

The free upgrade to execuitve suites was DIVINE. sleeping in a king-size bed is probably always lovely. but particularly so when it's your last night in a foreign country. the large, glass-doored shower was also quite heavenly, considering the unmissable lack of shower doors/curtains i had been encountering on my vacation. as i finished putting on my make-up, dad came over to my room so we could make plans for the day. we'd already decided to go on a harbor cruise, the issue was which and when. considering the rain, we opted for the harbour-tour instead of one which would require walking about at a destination. given the time, 130pm was our boat.

we breakfasted on some instant oatmeal we had been given as samples a few days earlier then decided to check out, stash our bags, and hit esquire's for internet and coffee. this sufficed to kill time for a while...but not much over an hour. which left us with plenty of time to wander Auckland's streets. which we did. and it was cold. and rainy. and cold. and WINDY. and....cold. i. was. miserable. i almost talked dad out of the cruise (i'd had more than enough of cold water for the day) but helplessly realized there was nothing better to do. (our flight didn't leave until 930p, and we had no hotel to return to.) the cruise was actually nice ((as most things are, if you only let your mind accept it.)) very informative, with warm, indoor seating and a free treat. plus, i love boats. and the choppy bay water made for an exhilirating and bumpy ride!

afterwards while vaguely making our way back to the hotel we discovered a MALL(haha). so, being the good americans that we are, we explored it. we wound up eating sandwiches in the food court (KUDOS to us for avoiding all american chan eateries for the length of our holiday!) then discovered the kiwi wal-mart (the warehouse). then we journeyed back to hobson street to collect our bags and call a taxi to head for the airport.

i was desperate for an earlier flight. heartset on one. the entire concept of our massive flights + layovers had been causing anxiety for days. we get in line to check baggage and we discovered that there WAS an earlier plane to L.A. alas, we weren't able to transfer. i cried a little. i actually cried. it's not that i'm desperately homesick. it was just that once i know something has to be done, i want it done the best way possible...and the quickest way possible. i truly believe God wants me to understand and accept that i don't kinow what's best always. maybe even never. which sucks to admit...but, like the harbour cruise...doesn't actually suck at all. it's okay...i can just rest...and ENJOY life!

timing played a key issue in our L.A. day, too. our flight was late arriving (storms delayed our take-off from auckland and made for a seriously bumpy flight!) but it was okay. time was irrelevant. days were even irrelevant. we got our rental car and headed for the beach. finally got rockstar parking at santa monica beach, and seeing the ocean for the first time is just as cheesily amazing in real life as it is in the movies.

the sand was unbelievably soft beneath my feet!! and cool. it was a BEAUTIFUL day! 70 degrees or so. the sea breeze made all worries over smelling of a plane disappear. the atmosphere was indescribable! the joy of all present, the feeling of sand, water, and air...the three elements were MEANT to be together!

no one ever told me how when you're standing in the ocean, and the tide goes out, even a gentle one, the sand beneath your feet pulls out with it...it's a wondrous sensation.

we cruised around L.A. a bit more after (regretfully) leaving the beach. went to dad's hometown area of whittier. then it was time to return the rental car. we had JUST missed a shuttle and were waiting for the next one, along with a man who had tons of luggage. dad made a fun comment about his amount of luggage as we boareded the soon-arrived shuttle. the guy sat down next to me, and went on to explain how he was returning home to tokyo where his very pregnant wife and his son lived. he is from l.a. originally but now lives there with his wife and kids. it was amazing. i learned sooo much from this man. about his nieces even! he was so hyper, so friendly, so willing to talk!! it was so fun, thoroughly enjoyable conversation. and then after he got off the shuttle, our driver immediately began chatting with us also. about his 4 year old son, who was born with a leaky heart valve. it just brings chills to me even now...how timing can be so coordinated at times. how people just open up to other people for no real reason. how THAT is my way of being Jesus to the world...and that i'm blessed enough to experience those times.

quiet day

we stayed in the mercure resort last night, in queenstown. place was LOUSY w/ snow bunnies!! all ages and descriptions. we tried hitting up the city centre after dinner at the hotel's restaurant, but there was absolutely no parking anywhere. even the illegal spots were taken! fail.

i had a sleep-in, as they say, this morning. then the dad and i went back into town, hit up the embassy, and did some shopping. we found the last thing on our "have to buy" list, just in time to get to the airport. we got some toasted sandwiches at the airport cafe, ham&cheese for dad, ham & pineapple for me, then settled in with coke zeroes and books to await our boarding time.
remember how i said kiwi airports are very do-it-yourself? further proof--the attendant had us scan our own tickets before hitting the tarmac to board the plane. hilarious.

mahad, the cab driver who took us to the airport from our auckland hotel, was there waiting for us when we de-planed. sweet. he's already agreed to take us back to the airport tomorrow evening when we say farewell to nz for good. convenient! we're staying in the same auckland hotel (auckland city hotel on hobson street, downtown). and baller bonus---free upgrade to execuite suites!! woooooooo!! king size bed, kitchenette, and most importantly, a shower with a door!!

we had 'lupper' at chargrill burgers & kebabs. dad's burger was absolutely HUGE. comically big. he did it justice, though. then more city wandering, b/c it felt like summer after the south island's cold temps.

tomorrow the agenda includes a ferry ride and parnell-district shopping before flying out at 930pm (auckland time).

cheers!

LOTR Day

reasons why i'm okay w/ my "american accent" : {1} the coffee boy in wanaka this morning. i walk in and we each say "morning." hard to distinguish accent from that. then i order and he asks where i'm from (in an american accent of his own.) we chat. he was cute. it. was. FUN.

{2} our LOTR tour guide, bob (more on all that soon!), and my dad and i were talking about accents. he is from england, but his dad is a glaswegian. i said i didn't like my non-accent accent, and he disagreed. said my accent "is quite melodious, actually, i like the way your sentences go up on the end."



today was the LOTR big guided tour day. i really didn't know what to expect, to be honest. but if you get a chance to see where your favorite movie is shot, you take it. and i was NOT disappointed. so amazing!! i wish you all could experience it!! bob was our tourguide, already alluded to. he's 39, but so young at heart. his FT job is as a computer programmer, but this guy KNOWS lotr. he's hyper, but in a very friendly way. truly enjoyable. he picked dad and i up around 10am. the tour was executed flawlessly. w/in the van was a portable dvd player, w/ a special dvd cued up to the scenes (in order, of course) that we would be seeing the setting of. first stop was arrowtown. we saw some awesome scenes, of course, but also learned about the film's pre-and during-production fake name--"jamboree." apparently andy serkus almost didn't even apply for gollum/smeagol b/c the fake screenplay cover was so lame!! hahaha....



next was a treacherous road trip up to a river-view of where those giant king statues were. also learned a great story about orlando bloom/legolas. he was 17 when filming started. all actors had to sign agreements saying they would not participate in adrenaline sports while filming (nz is rampant w/ opportunities.) well, orlando did them all anyway. so they're filming the actors in the canoes going down the river. this river is fast and dangerous, esp around a bend. so, orlando tempts fate. and the boat goes under. and he plus 2 others almost were goners, but a nearby bungee-bridge's safety boat saved them. word.



we

day 2.2 through 4

tame night. after getting caught and slaughtered in the rain, lying low sounded heavenly. "martian child" was on skymovies, so we watched that movie in dad's room - me, sitting in a chair practically plastered to the space heater. (good movie, by the way)

for dinner, we strolled down the street to a convenience store/kebab place. kebab joints proliferate Auckland's streets, so we were pretty much obligated to try their take on them. "NZ kebabs" aren't your expected meat & veg on a stick. rather, it's a pita bread/tortilla heated up and spread with hummus, topped with your choice of meat, salad, and your choice of sauce. we both went for chicken w/ bbq. i was NOT disappointed. holy hummus, was that kebab amazing!

tuesday morning. dad and i breakfasted at our hotel's cafe on toasted bagels and coffee. these bagels were more covered in sesame seeds than las vegas is in glitter! but they tasted good. our flight for queenstown didn't leave until 1p, checkout wasnt until 11, and it was 830 by the time we finished eating. time to hit the streets!

First stop was the embassy (starbucks) for coffee. then we wandered down towards the docks. it was a GORGEOUS morning. sun shining brilliantly, fresh sea air, people of all descriptions rushing around. we started walking back towards the city centre when dad spotted a tiny shopping mall. in we went. most of the shops weren't open yet, but a few were. including one whose display windows showed tables filled with sparkling jewelry and sequined handbags...like a moth to a flame, i was drawn in. the sales associate was a lovely woman who'd been living in nz for about a year. she and her husband had migrated from the midlands of the UK,. we had a fantastic chat and found some wonderful items to buy, too. cheers to dad for the shop find!

auckland airport. much more do-it-yourself; tag and check your own luggage. keep your shoes on. no worries about liquids. and friendly staff, thank you God! somehow my cell phone turned on while going through the carry-on x-ray; i was waiting for dad's bags to be cleared and felt a vibration from my Khenri bag..."what's that?" pondered i. and then the sweet melody of birdsong floated up to my ears--also orignating from the khenri bag. "oh cruel conscience! recreating the sound/feel of a text message SO accurately!" i had to pull out my phone, though i was certain it wasn't on or working. but wait!! what's this? the screen of my sad, little rumor was NOT black--no, friends, it was lit-up, and the black words "welcome to new zealand..." on a bubblegum pink background appeared!! MY PHONE HAS A SIM CARD!! my phone is usable overseas!! HERE! my. phone. works in new zealand!!!! i showed my dad this joyous discovery. he was as shocked as i, and almost as delighted (i think.) he had me look at it again, while saying "i bet there are international roaming charges." sure enough, there are...i'd been doing so well w/out my security blanket/cell phone...but i HAD a working phone...wouldn't it be wasteful NOT to use it?? but, maturity set in and i agreed...we will use it only for emergencies. (philo IS spending enough money as it is, thanks, da!!)

the descent into queenstown's airport was unimaginably cool. we came out of the clouds, and the first thing i saw outside of the window was a herd of sheep. YES. we de-planed directly onto the tarmac, where the smell of snow immediately hit my nostrils just as the brisk, cool air hit my skin. the scenery was terrific, however. majestic, even! mountains. the nz mountains:)

we have a rental car for our time on the south island (a glamorous white, 4 door, toyota corolla). we decided to give queenstown a look before heading on to our lodge in wanaka. mostly b/c it was 330pm and we hadn't eaten since 8am. queenstown is definitely a ski-resort-town. absolutely crawling with slope-hitters. like aspen or something. the first eateries we spotted were a mcdonalds and a subway. "screw it, it's food!" we thought. but parking was still to be found. we pulled into a spot, then realized a local food joint was literally steps away from our car. "fergburgers." it was really busy but we chose to wait, and it was well worth it. GINORMOUS gourmet burgers. soooo soo soo good!

off to wanaka....taking a switch back road (where the road doesnt wind around the mountain but rather zig-zags up one side of it). this was a little scary, but survivable, clearly. we drove through snow, but mild. finally arrived in wanaka just after sunset, and found our lodge--home to the famous hobbit room!! not a converted movie set afterall, but part of a 5-star lodge. not half as cool as the movie set. but cool in a different way. in a pampered way. the proprieter, gary, is attentive and meticulous to detail. as well as a fancy chef. we joined him and one other guest, katherine (a kiwi and pro-skier) for wine and apps, then drove around wanaka a bit, returning to find a loaf of 'hobbit bread' with jams and butter waiting....it was ...interesting.

wednesday morning, we were treated to a 3 course breakfast! granola and fruit followed by grilled lembas bread with delectable golden syrup, followed by bacon, sausage, and sauteed mushrooms. FULL.

THEN, we were picked up by wanaka journeys for our jet boat ride!!
our guide is a maori by blood, and his passion for the river and surrounding land was contagious. he is a fantastic story-teller, too--he seamlessly wove geological, historical, mythological, and even LOTR stories together throughout our journey. the water of the river was low, only an inch or so deep at points, which meant one twisty, turny, spinning, AWESOME ride! we even hiked up into the beech forest, land that few people ever explore. it was absolutely a unique and memorable experience... breathtaking. freezing. smell the spawning fish in the shallow waters. see the helicopters dropping skiers off on the mountains looming above. see the mountainsides forming clouds right before your eyes...

Day 1.2 and Day 2.1

After leaving esquire's coffees last night, dad and i went to the albion pub for a drink and some local color. the latter we didn't get too much of...but 2 highlights that were more than enough. the first was a contraption near the door. it was identical to those bowling aley games; where there is a glass box with a crane-claw inside for you to forever-unsuccessfully attempt to grab and win a stuffed animal. except this game is called "catcha craw" and instead of plush pals, your goal is a LIVE lobster crawling around in about a foot of water. the second bit of fun was a bloke walking in and stopping a few feet away to watch the tv that my dad and i were seated near. dad was drinking his beer, i had my whiskey, and we were half-watching the highlights of various rugby, cricket, and sailing matches. bloke is shifting his feet, smiles at us, asks which team we're for. dad simply said, "it's just highlights," and bloke left. BEST PART: on either side of the crown of his head, two bright red sating ribbons were tied into gorgeous big bows around tufts of his short sandy brown hair. lovely.

we went back to the hotel shortly there-after, kinda pooped after a day which began before 4am (and on an airplane, no less.)

this morning, my dad had arranged to meet with a colleague (a native of auckland) for coffee at 9a.m. however, true to form, they had actually arranged to meet at 8a.m. not a big deal. graeme, the colleague, is a really nice guy. drove a gorgeous (dare i say luxury?) sedan, some aussie model. he's the boss of his hearth n' home branch, so spent the morning showing us around a bit. he dropped us off at the maritime museum, which we decided we might as well tour since we were there. it was kind of funny.

we walked around the harbor area for awhile, then trekked uphill back to our hotel. and then left to go get food. of course. this time we went to a locally-owned version of subway (basically) but it was much better.

later in the afternoon we decided to go shopping. we hit up a nearby shopping district, elliott st, but the stuff was really pricey and really poor quality. no souvenirs for my loved ones from there! pshaw. ha. originally i had wanted to go to the parnell area anyway, so dad says okay let's go. well, we begin to head there, and it begins to downpour. sun-showers have been common, but this one required us stepping into a convenience store and purchasing umbrellas. off we go, on foot....and....sigh. dad gets us lost. so we wander the city, my jeans soaked up to my knees, getting heavier and heavier, my feet slipping like mad in my gorgeous but impractical flip flops...as we walked down possibly the most awful hill known to kiwi-kind, my legs actually shaking from the effort of walking through the rainstorm (wet jeans = the best leg weights ever), we see a gas station. GENIUS. so we go in...and smartly admitted we were lost...and called a cab to take us back to the hotel. for cushy leather seats and only $10 AUD, i think that was the best call of the day. which leads us to late-afternoon, and me once again typing away at esquires coffees...

(sorry for the lack of pretty writing....but my laptop's battery can only handle so much time...)

Day(s?) One

MSP--gate to flight to LAX. The usual suspects also wait. BUT...there is an over-abundance of tools. these tools captivate me the most. are they extra tooled-out b/c they'll be visiting L.A.? are they perhaps going home to L.A.? better yet...do I look like a she-tool?

on the plane. seats 38b and 38c. 38a is the window seat. i want it. person after person comes down the aisle. "That seat was empty on the online manifest last night," says dad. waiting...waiting...waiting...."ladies and gentlemen, please stow your belongings beneath the seat in front of you in preperation for take-off..." begins the flight attendant. i JUMP to the empty window seat, buckle in. and then tehre comes a last-minute passenger. his seat number? 38A. PISS.

i watch an episode of how i met your mother on the plane. LEGEN......

.......dary.

LAX. beautiful. weather, flowers, palm trees...
apparently they don't drink bottled pop here. water, water, orange juice, and water. i finally find a shop with "flavored" water, so i grab one and head to the register. the woman comes over. she's middle-aged, hispanic, has LONG bleached-orange hair and lots of make-up. she explains every size and price of bottled h2O. (i'm on the phone this whole time..which shame on me, but STILL.) i assure her what i've already chosen is what i want. she swipes my card, returns it. as i sign the reciept, she notices my large, purple, sparkly flower ring. "oh so beautiful!" she exclaims. she then proceeds to take it off of my finger and try it on every single one of her fingers. gushes over and over how beautiful it is. asking where i got it. "expensive?" i told her "from a department store. under $20." and finally, after she ASKED IF SHE COULD KEEP IT, i said "NO," through a teeth-grinding smile and then "i think i got it at dillards. in IOWA. look for it online."

our layover was only a couple of hours long, instead of the 6 we had been prepared for. thankfully. the time went by really quickly, due to a dear old friend keeping me company over the phone. good stuff.

pre-boarding. there's this kid that almost tipped a trash can over on me. it was pretty hilarious. then it turns out he's the 3rd seat mate in our row. nice kid from new jersey, fresh out of college with a meterology degree. first time out of the states, and he's going backpacking for 2 months through NZ w/ a buddy. good luck, jersey boy!:)

the flight from l.a. to auckland was about 12 hours in length. after take-off, i watched "sunshine cleaning" (or is it sunshine cleaners?) with amy adams. fell asleep before the end and didn't wake up until almost 4am auckland time (which meant about 9 hours of sleep--cheers to benadryl!!) watched "17 again," ate some fruit, and then watched an ep of "flight of the choncords" just to get in the zone. we landed at about 6 am local time.

customs line took ages! there was a chinese women's basketball team ahead of us. all of which sported red jump suits and surgical masks. creepy. the customs agent seemed a bit moody, judging from his interaction with the people directly in que in front of us, but was actually really nice. i'm assuming b/c no language barrier was involved...

we got coffee at a stand outside of the airport. the barista was devilishly cute. we ordered americanos, going off of our UK experience. he had no idea what we meant, so i told him. he asked if we were from canada or the states. we were truthful. sigh. haha....then he told us that what we call americanos, they call "long blacks." good to know, as our morning would provide opportunity for drinking plenty more of them...

we took a shuttle to our hotel downtown. the driver should be called "speed racer." yeah. there was a local sitting in front of us; her name shall be "Ms. Pretentious." i wanted to pull her hair.

we arrived at our hotel at about 730 am. our rooms weren't ready-wouldn't be ready until midday, but we were able to stow our luggage. off to explore the city!

the air is so fresh, cool, and clean. good sea air...my favorite! the sky was amazingly blue, with tremendous cumulous cloud structures ever-changing. rainbows abounded. so many forms of trees, and so many still green despite the fact that it's the dead of winter! auckland is a very hilly city, but it felt SO good to stretch my legs after so many hours on the plane. we hit up the american embassy (aka starbucks) almost immediately. more to use their restroom than anything. we trekked and trekked. made our way back to the heart of downtown, near our hotel. also near the sky tower (see facebook photos for more.) we had planned on touring it, it was just now 9 am, and the hot shower i was dreaming of was still hours away. so we went. the inside of the attached building also serves as casino, restaurants, gift shops. after being lost for quite a while, a security guard (hilarious guy) directed dad to the railing and pointed at the GIANT sign towards the basement which is how you get into the tower. almost not embarassing....

the tower itself is gigantic. the elevator is disgustingly fast. but the view was INCREDIBLE. the first step i took onto the glass-portion of the viewing deck resulted in a shriek and me dancing back off of it. terrifying!! we went up to the highest possible level, and the building swayed back and forth around us..."this is a good thing" i kept reminding myself...architectural integrity and all that.....

after this, hunger ensued. we scouted out the "hollywood bakery and cafe." we were just getting ready to cross the road, when a chap comes over and starts talking to us. "don't tell me you guys just woke up!" he says in his feminine way. "oh no, we've been up for days!" i said. ensued a conversation about missing the night life, etc. charming. crossed over finally to the cafe..good food, actually. i had a chicken sandwich on foccaccia. enjoyable. then....sigh...more wandering the city.

finally at noon we could check into the hotel. finally at noon i could shower.
it. was. divine.

took a nap, then headed out again. not too many restaurants downtown, actually. we went into the first open one, asian food. had teriyaki chicken, udon noodles, and green onions in soup form. AMAZING!!!!

and now, here i am in "esquires coffees," typing away....whatever will tomorrow bring?

love and misses to all...

the night before...

tomorrow, at 2pm central time, i will get inside of my dad's white ford focus hatchback and drive to his friend's house.

at 215pm, we will walk the half-mile to the light rail station.

at 230 or so, we will take said light rail to the MSP international airport.

at 430 pm i will board a jet bound for LAX.

at 1230 am, pacific time, i will board another plane. destination: new zealand.

at that point, time and day will lose all meaning to me. i'm not even going to try to calculate the "back home it's this time" nonsense. i am going to a new country. i am going to live it, and likely love it. i'm going to eat foods at locally owned restaurants. stay in nice hotels. walk the unmatchable landscape. see the ocean. see new faces.

tomorrow, i begin my discovery of new zealand.

an ignorant altercation

I left for work at my usual time this morning. Meaning I'd be approximately 8 minutes "late" to work. But, since 8 minutes isn't really that different than 12 minutes, and my supply of smokey treats was dwindling, I decided to stop at the QT on 15th and Grand for a couple of packs of marlboro's before hitting the freeway to work.

Boy, am I glad I did.

This QT is always jam-packed on mornings, with people from all walks of life and parts of the world. But, QT employees being efficient, the wait was not long. I was just telling the fresh-faced chap behind the counter what brand of sunshine I desired when into the convenience store walked a 30-something year old man. This african-american man was somewhat short, dressed business casual, plus a baseball cap and sunglasses. Raising his voice to be heard by the cashiers: "Ya'll better call the police, there's about to be an altercation out there. I'm not joking. There's an ignorant woman out there, and I'm going back out to do my part in this altercation, so call the police. I'm serious." The cashiers eyes widened a bit, but he simply said "Okay." and directed anothere cashier to do so. The other patrons either hurried up and stepped outside to watch, or ignored the situation. A few of us exchanged wide-eyed glances and half smiles over this scene.

Outside I went, directly to my vehicle. People were stepping out behind their cars to watch the scene taking place at the Grand Ave exit of QT's lot. Everyone's windows were down despite the warm weather. I thought about ignoring it, but then realized, "this doesn't happen every day," and shut off the radio, rolling my windows down, too.The man who had forewarned the QT employees was standing next to a '90s model blue taurus, along with a taller african-american man. I couldn't hear or see the driver of said car. I can't quote verbatim what was being said, but it was something like this: "You're IGNORANT! You don't know anything. Go ahead! Call your uncles and cousins. Call everyone! We'll take 'em. Ignorant! You're just plain ignorant!" By this point I was actually driving up behind said Taurus. I hadn't a choice if I intended to leave at all, and the driver (whom the defenders had already distinguished as female) seemed determined to drive away. The two gentlemen were walking back towards their vehicle, located at the petrol pump nearest the Taurus as I idled behind it. "We gotta get to work. F her ignorance. Whatever. She probably lives off of lawd knows who, anyway. WE have to go to work," said the two. The woman in front of me was on her cell phone. Suddenly she geared into reverse. Seemingly "ignorant" of the fact that I was behind her. Gentleman 1 addressed me (my windows were still down) "Watch out now, she's IGNORANT and likely to back right into you!" I nodded sort of, reversed my own car enough to allow the accused to back into the QT lot again. I took a look at her; how could I not? She was in her 40s, a round woman sporting a baseball cap, still talking on her phone. Very unassuming looking, actually. I turned my attention back to leaving this lovely lot, when Gentleman spoke to me again. "See! She's ignorant! She called us __insert N word here__!" To which my left hand flew up to cover my mouth which had opened in surprise as I gasped and my eyebrows shot up. "Yeah! Right?" He said in response to my reaction to her tabboo. I eased forward a bit more, hollering "good luck?!" to the parking lot in general I suppose. To my right, coming up Grand Ave was a patrol car. I was torn between staying to witness the scene and actually going to work...I chose work.

Although, thinking back and considering the all-staff meeting which took place first thing...I might as well have stayed and enjoyed this bucolic scene of semi-urban Americana...People are fascinating! I don't think I'll ever choose to live in the suburbs again.

for a change

yesterday was a glorious day.

i've realized that i must come across as quite melancholy in my blog posts. i suppose it's because the darker moods are harder to deal with and therefore require some written work to handle. for me anyway.

but yesterday--yesterday was fantastic. and i think i should share that.

slept in. but still made it to work on time. that's what we call a bonus.

shot two "The Office" promos in the morning. hilarity ensued. i would love to work on a tv show. either as a writer or photog, or something! not to mention how great the edited promos look...i just LOVE it when something you envision actually comes to fruition...it's a rush!

andrew, nicole, and i then left around noon to go costume shopping for our "The Vampire Diaries" promo. valley junction. the theatrical shop. yes. it was fun, fast, good times. who doesn't love a costume shop? haha...

the rest of the afternoon went swiftly. logs done in good time. fun trying on parts of the vampire costume (like catwoman's mask). then, off at 430 to go to Kids in the Park! (think vacation bible school.)

KITP was great. my group of 1st through 3rd graders? love 'em. we had fun. since the event was outside, we incorporated water into every activity in order to prevent overheating. there's just something so freeing about not caring what you look like. wearing a tshirt and shorts. wearing a goofy straw hat. makeup melting away. water all over. laughing, laughing, and loving every minute. and the best part, of course, is leading the kids. helping them, if only slightly to recognize god's love.

driving home, smelly and sweaty and tired and smiling.

sparrows

Matthew 10:29-31 (New International Version)
29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30 And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

I overslept this morning. By almost an hour. I was out the door by 8 a.m. on the dot. (Technically, my workday starts at 8). I wasn't concerned about being late; I live about 12 minutes from my office, and we're often "late."

Yet, when I drive, I tend to get this primal urge to drive faster and slicker than anyone else on the road. I turned my mom's SUV onto 15th street, headed north towards the freeway on-ramp. There are 2 stoplights to contend with in the 4-block stretch before hitting the on-ramp. Betwixt stoplight A and stoplight B, there was a sparrow perched on the road, in my lane. The dapper little fellow in his brown and white feathers was pecking away at some unnameable substance, happily ignorant of the traffic headed his way. We've all been there. Driving and seeing a bird or five scratching for food in the roadway. They seem determined to stay put, only to take wing and sprint out of harm's way at the last moment. We've seen this; we expect them to fly to safety of their own accord. Yet we've also seen the aftermath flattened against the pavement. The aftermath of when an avian beast hasn't been fast enough. This sparrow in my path seemed determined to join the latter group of birds.

But I slowed down. I almost stopped completely. My heart hurt at the very idea of crushing that tiny creature. I irritated the man driving behind me. I saw the look on his face through my rear-view mirror. But I, emily rose, will never intentionally run over something when I know it's within my power to NOT do so. Simultaneously the above quoted verse popped into my mind. Which got me thinking... what if bleeding hearts like myself are obeying an actual wish of God by sparing the sparrows?

I even considered blogging about this might-be-revelation as I sat at the second stoplight. Then dismissed that thought as egomaniacal. (I tend to question whether my thoughts on life are indeed in line with the Divine.) But then a "funny" thing happened. As the light turned green and I crossed Grand Avenue, there was another sparrow, pecking away mid-lane. And this sparrow was as stubborn or naive or blind as the last, for again I was forced to choose between slamming the brakes or running the wee bird over. I slammed the breaks. The driver behind me sped around into the next lane with a look of exasperation. But again, I knew I was acting in character. I do not run over animals. And I have a particular affinity with sparrows, given my tendency to fear. They are symbolic of hope, safety, well-being to me.

So...maybe bleeding hearts like me ARE part of how God spares the sparrows. God made us...He loves us...and he fills us with love to share with others to point them to Him...which is guaranteed joy and completion for any human soul...

just sayin'

My neighbor kid is a pathological liar.
But in a very entertaining sort of way.

With heat index included, the temperature outside is over 100 degrees.
I will be spending 3 hours in said temperature with small children.
There will be over 100 people at this event.
And there will be ONE port-a-potty.


A co-worker bit my finger about two hours ago.
Another co-worker has pinkeye.


Last night my mom saw a tornado from the "safety" of her vehicle.


I leave for New Zealand in 11 days.

warm, summer rains

Open the door. Feel the rain splash on the part of your hair...a liquid shiver. step outside. warm, thick air. enveloping. the rain looks deceptively light. sheer streams. but they hit with a welcome force. row of vehicles: the mpu (cw plastered mobile production unit/rv), jared's, mine, andrea's, larry's, reggie's, mikes. row of satellites. rows of trees. rows of tall grasses, growing wild between business park buildings.
smell the ground. smell the dirt as it turns to mud. smell the earthworms as they start their marathon across the parking lot. smell the water in the air as the precipitation continues.
feel the burn of the cigarette hitting your throat. feel the burn of the smoke in your eyes, crowded under your houndstooth umbrella.
feel the water crawling up your trouser legs, too long despite your 4 inch heels.
watch your bangs frizz in the humid air.
dream about 5 o'clock. dream about ditching the umbrella. dream about soaking up the rain as it soaks up your clothes. you'll watch your curls straighten under the weight of the water, only to crawl back into waves after you retreat inside. you'll watch the raindrops turn an inky black as they cling to your made-up eyelashes.
you'll watch people watching you like 'you've been drinking pink champagne.'
you'll smile unceasingly, because warm, summer rains were meant to be danced in.

miscellany

After a valiant attempt to be superwoman, i have come to realize that i am...well...NOT superwoman.

meaning, i am going to quit my part-time job. i started it (or re-started, as i have worked for this employer in the not-so-distant past) approximately 3 weeks ago. i started it because my full-time job does not pay me enough. i don't mean that in a sense-of-entitlement sort of way. i mean it in a cost-of-living sort of way. my monthly bills (god bless student loans...) dominate my paychecks. my employer literally cannot give raises. my employer literally could be shut down at any given moment to the surprise of literally no one. literally.

i am going to meet with a credit counselor this week. hooray for proactivity!

my best friend is in similar financial straits. lily allen has a song that is quite applicable. except the beaurocrats won't give me a mortgage because of my bad credit...but it's not so funny because i don't have their effing money.

have i mentioned that i despise money?

yet i love stuff. 'tis an uncomfortable quandry.

time to count the blessings. i am surrounded with good people. a number which increases weekly. i have a loving family. i have my passions, which i can indulge in freely. i have freedoms. and i get to go to new zealand in 18 days. THAT, my dearies, is phenomenal.

my wish list may be long...but my have list is long, too.

funny story time.
i am the proud "owner" of an 11 year old nova scotian duck tolling retriever, penny. she is definitively spoiled. she is also definitively precious and sweet and loving and adorable. yesterday she was in the bedroom while the rest of the family was in the living room. I decided the old girl should join the party. as i entered the room, she looked up at me with her gentle eyes. "come on, penny, up we go," i said as i slid my right arm beneath her furry, 35 pound frame.
"YELP!" she exclaimed. of course i was worried. although dogs in general, and my dog in particular, tend to play the 'wounded pet' act when simply bothered, i never can tell. i pulled her up, to see if indeed i had pinched a nerve.
that's when the wrestling match began. "Here's my opportunity to escape!" thought penny. "i can't let you go, my arm is entangled in your front legs!" i said. she thrashed about, a blur of reddish orange fur. i followed suit (although my hair is reddish brown). our heads hit. nails were bared. she had the benefit of the aforementioned fur to protect her skin. i, however, do not. after a blow to the face, to the upper right cheek-near-the-eye region, the clash of the red-heads was ended with me lifting a hand to the afflicted area and her snorting her indignation over the indignity of our little tussle. i took my hand down; no blood. looked in the mirror, definite swollen red mark. i went and grabbed an ice bag from the freezer. then returned to the bedroom to see what madam penny had to say for herself. like a possum playing dead, she flipped from laying on her stomach to her back, legs in the air, throat bared, the proverbial pose of submission. "yeah, you better be sorry!" i said with a bite of bitterness. however, i couldn't resist approaching my dog. cut to 30 seconds later. once again my dog is in my arms. but this time, it's cuddling.
moral of the story? my dog is spoiled. she might injure, but she will always be my baby.

amitié

how,
why,
&
should
friendships end?

((more later...)

my personal springtime

Spring is Comforting.
The Gray clouds remain; but the Green grass
is so Vivid that Brightness prevails.
Rain and wind dominate, but the humidity sets in, and
the smell of the Damp earth warms me.
I can FEEL the tulips and daffodills
stirring in the ground,
their bulbs hatching neon green shoots.
I wait and I watch for the trees to bud,
as I listen to Nature's soundtrack of birdsong.
Soon the days will be longer.
Soon those trees that will, will blossom.
Soon the air will be thick with floral fragrance
and the humming bees will appear.
But right now I see charcoal gray clouds
playing hide and seek with
a white-bright Sun.
The ground is Spongy-soft and a Dark, Deep Brown.
The grass is short
and Emerald green-
new and nourished and yet to be bleached.
The trees are yet stark
and the flowers still hiding,
But,
Springtime is here
and it comforts me.

((written on april 4th, 2006... re-posted not because of it's awesomeness...but b/c i love the outside.))

chimera

I had a dream about you last night.
I was walking down the street. Not just a street. The street that is always in my dreams. It's on the fringe of a downtown somewhere. A hilly town. Brick buildings, old streets, flowers. Wood-trimmed windows painted black, hunter green, navy blue. Chipped gold lettering to display the business' business. Coffee shops, bakeries, vintage clothing, boutiques; hipster spots adorn the streets. Sometimes the shops are all connected through back doorways, yellow hallways, rickety stair cases, tunnels and alleys...but it's dream-land...so that changes. ((I wonder if this town actually exists?))
I was on that street - my street. It was overcast. There were people all around; my street is always busy. Beautiful people. People wearing sweaters and funky hats with long hair and beards...people wearing corduroys and cotton skirts and dancing to the music in their head. The glitterati arethere, too. And older, wiser folk. Small kids. They dance to the street musicians, they laugh, they mingle.
I duck in and out of the shops. I want to see a concert at a coffee bar. But something won't let me stay. I have to get out of there. I walk hastily down the street, out of my colorful neighborhood toward taller gray buildings. The overcast sky is getting darker and darker. But while I'm yet on my street's final corner, I glance across the street.
Across the wide, wide street.
There is the final colorful shop. There are you. Sitting outside. You sit at a black, wrought-iron table. You are holding a large, thin book. Like a sketch book. You've been watching me. I look your way, You cover your face with the book. Familiar disappointment fills me. Familiar pain and confusion. I keep walking. You remain across the street at the table. I look over again. I don't know why. You twist your body away from me, in towards the table. You bend your arm and cover your face.
Why?
Simultaneously the rain starts to patter down and a gentleman approaches you.
The rain forces me to turn around and jog towards the safety of My Street.
The gentleman forces you to walk in the same direction as me.
I enter the coffee bar with the concert that I had previously been in. I come in through the back. You and the man are coming in through the front. He indicates a round, oak table near the front. You sit. He leaves.
I can't take it anymore. I approach you. I sit down, tears have already filled my eyes.
You avoid eye contact. I reach my hand over and lay it on your arm, compelling you to look at me.
I know we had a discussion. I know you said why. But like too many dreams, those details evade me. Or perhaps were skipped over like a scratched DVD. You miss the specifics, but the plot flows on.
Scene change; instant. Dreams will do that. We're in a house. There are a few people who live here. It's a typical 20-something home. Almost-bare walls, mismatched furniture. We're in the basement. We're laughing. We've made peace. An old classmate from UNI walks by the door of the room we are in. He shakes his head, smiles. "Ooooh, you two"... he seems to say.
We're the proverbial happy couple. Minus the relationship. We tickle each other, and tease (which seems far-fetched even to my dreaming conscience.) We walk upstairs hand-in-hand. (Which seems right even now.)
We're in the kitchen, around the island. (This is always where key moments happen in relationship dreams for me.)
We both realize we're behaving as if we were "together." You can't accept that.
You still love her.
Your face loses all animation and color. It lengthens, your eyes lose their sparkle.
My heart weighs too much now, and all fades to black.

navigating office politics

it's not personal.
NOTHING is confidential.
use discretion; in your speech, actions, and thoughts.
it's not personal.
everything is a learning opportunity.
you are NOT a victim.
mental exhaustion is physically draining.
it's not personal.
you can't control your feelings;
BUT - you can control your actions.
it's not personal.
pick your battles.
you are more than "what you do."
titles mean nothing.
it's not personal.

scotland

Why do I miss you so much?
Why can’t I get over you?
Every cool breeze reminds me of you…
Fresh, sea air is no cliché.
With you, I felt truly alive.
With you I breathed effortlessly.
With you, I felt protected, embraced.
Everything was exciting. Everything was beautiful..I stepped lighter, ran faster, laughed harder.
I appreciated more. I understood more…because I understood less?
I stood out, I blended in. I learned. I grew. I tried things I’d never thought I’d do.
I found my roots, and felt how that matters.
I saw my face on your walls, and I felt beautiful.

the fire

“EMILY – PUT PENNY ON HER LEASH. THE NEIGHBOR’S CAMPER EXPLODED AND IT’S ON FIRE.”

My mom yelled the words, but in such a matter-of-fact way, that looking back I’m still not sure how she managed it.
My body went into action before my mind could comprehend the situation. I found myself in my mom’s room, attaching the leash to Penny’s collar without even realizing how the leash found my hands in the first place.

Mom and Ray were moving in a flurry around me. Somehow I gleaned that 911 had been called. The dog and I blindly followed Mom and Ray outdoors. The sky was still dark – it was 5a.m. – but the house to our right was glowing and strangely still. I tried to head straight to the neighbor’s yard, in pursuit of the old folks’, but felt something tug me back. (Penny was being a dog…and urinating. Neither one of us seemed to realize what exactly was going on mere yards away.) I turned back towards the neighbors. Ray was out of sight, Mom was pounding on the neighbors door; “TIM! FIRE!” she let herself in as I rounded the fence and made it into their yard. Ray was silhouetted ahead of me, even with their house. I had been on a path towards him, but stopped abruptly when the fire came into view. “Horror-stricken” is more than a phrase. In an instant, my sleepy head cleared. “The neighbor’s camper exploded and it’s on fire.” Yes…. fire…inferno…hungry, orange flames lashing out at the pre-dawn sky, competing with the surrounding aged trees for height; undulating waves of sparks, moving like a swarm of hornets, sprinkling the neighborhood with threatening chunks of smoldering black plastic ash. Through the maddening sheets of fire, the smoldering structure of the RV could be seen, the cliché helpless victim to the fire. Was anyone inside? (we later learned that a dog had indeed been trapped and lost to the flames.)

My heart has never beaten so fast. My eyes were wide, in spite of the smoke swirling around me. Taking in this view for only a few seconds, I ran back into the house, dragging poor Penny along, to grab my cell phone. “When did you call 911?” I hollered at my mother. “Where are they? WHERE ARE THEY?!” I was panicking. Inside my bedroom once again, I yanked my phone from the charger and punched in the numbers. As I incoherently babbled my reason for calling to the operator, sirens and flashing lights appeared at the far end of Dean Avenue. “They’re here, sorry...” I mumbled and hung up, as I moved towards the neighbor’s front yard once again, this time joining my mom and Ray on the sidewalk as a cop leaped from his squad car and ran towards the house. As fire trucks and more police units arrived, a measure of calm set in, and for the first time the chill of the dawn air struck me. I bent down to pull up my knee-high men’s athletic socks and saw I was wearing my glittery black ballet flats. When did I put those on?

Shivering, I huddled next to my mom, eyes glued to the tragic blaze in front of me. This fire was a monster – like a bogeyman under your bed – and the emergency crew was a balm to my pounding heart, much like your parent entering your bogey-infested room and assuring you it would be okay.
As the fire was hopelessly sprayed with streams of water, the mesmerizing effect of the flames took hold of me. “My camera is right inside, I should be capturing this,” I thought. But deep in my gut, I felt a sickening certainty that death was a part of this scene. I could never exploit that.

The acrid, smoky smell of the camper’s destruction burned in my nostrils. Sprays of cold water were carried from the firemen’s hose and hit my bare legs and face as the fire was slowly tamed. Simultaneously, Mom, Ray, and I turned back toward our own home. We’d all been coughing with increasing violence. Not surprisingly, considering the harsh, black smoke. Back in the now-assured safety of our own house, Mom and Ray went to the window with the best vantage point of the blaze to continue watching. I tread back to my room, noticing it was now almost 6 a.m., and grabbed a pillow and my blanket. Finding Penny curled up on my mom’s bed, I lay down beside her, wrapped my arms around her, and shivered uncontrollably…all the while praying thanksgiving for safety as well as condolence for my neighbors as I strove for a few hours of sleep before the day “began.”

east side memories

(the following took place on may twelfth two thousand nine)

It was a beautiful spring evening on Des Moines’ East Side. The rain was tumbling down from the humid gray cloud cover, the thunder and trains competing for boom power. I parked my survivor-of-a-Buick in the street and made a mad dash for the house. (Who needs umbrellas when you can sprint in high heels?) Safely inside, changed out of my dampened spring dress, and re-wardrobed in the typical jeans and hooded IOWA sweatshirt, it was clearly time for me to have an after-work cigarette on my covered front porch. As I unsuccessfully tried to juggle said sunshine stick, large study Bible, and wind-lashed onion-skin pages, I heard a car honk. Deciding to finish the 34th chapter of Exodus in the wind-free interior of my home, I closed The Book and looked up to see to the diminutive blue hatchback honking and pulling into the vacant lots across the street.** Packed inside the unlikely off-roader were three young men, clearly of an east siderly upbringing. As they whooped out of the windows, which were half-rolled down, I pitied the birds, chipmunks, and rabbits that flew, scurried, and jumped out of their plundering. I pitied the dandelions and Kentucky blue grass blades even more…defenseless victims to traditional east side shenanigans. Sigh. ‘But wait,’ said Nature, ‘don’t fret your little hippie-heart,’ and, as if on cue, the Blue Hatchback was snared in a bog of deep mud, surreptitiously hidden beneath a large, rain-dimpled puddle of water. The wheels spun uselessly as muddy water flew about, like light from a sparkler on the fourth of ju-ly. Immediately the passenger, whom we’ll call ES1*, leaped out and ran diagonally across the street to his abode…whether for help or to escape we shall never know. I, of course, whipped out my green Rumor and snapped a few pictures, which earned me a sheepish smile and wave from ES2*, the driver. I discarded my cigarette butt into the ashtray and entered the house to finish reading the promised Exodus, chapter the 34th.

Approximately one hour later, according to my nicotine receptors, I was once again on my front porch. Lo and behold, the Blue Hatchback had answered a summons of its own and was back to tearing around in yonder wet plain. As I dismissed the non-mystery of the tool-igans in favor of The Mystery of Edwin Drood, I heard a charming “HEY!” vocally thrown my way. Ah yes, the young men were hearkening to me. I gave a half-hearted wave in their direction, accompanied by my irrepressible Mary-Kate Olsen fake smile. “COME ‘ERE!” bellowed ES2 as he motioned with his arm and hand. “COME ‘ERE!” he repeated as I stared back; unresponsive save for my raised left eyebrow. “Come do this with us!” he further entreated, gesturing to the car. “NO THANKS!” I returned, (politely I do hope.) Subsequent persuasions were hollered my way. “Come on! It’s fun! Come with us! What’s your name? Sheva bocka goo ma lee!” The last sentence being an example of what they presumably did NOT say, but what my mind could comprehend over the traffic, train yards, and suchlike contributors to the East Side soundtrack. My replies ran as thus: “No thank you. No thank you! I don’t want to get muddy.” Which were accompanied by my requisite head-wagging and arm-crossing “no’s.” My reply stayed consistent even after the East Side Romeos deserted their beloved lot to idle that Blue Hatchback at my home’s curb. Needless to say, I did not relent to their entreaties, and they swiftly hot-dogged their way off to other vehicular pursuits. Thus closes today’s East Side Memory.

*East Sider 1, East Sider 2.
** It is not uncommon to see vehicles “off-roading” in said vacant lot. They range in appearance from bicycles to four-wheelers to pick-ups and, of course, to blue hatchbacks.