tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65692602928524826882024-02-19T06:53:59.797-08:00A Memorable MenagerieAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-18889486010430260742015-06-09T19:59:00.001-07:002015-06-10T11:00:03.879-07:00Oh Canada<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Shortly after I had torn my ACL my uncle Henry invited me (most likely a pity invite for my increasingly pathetic condition...whatever, I'll take it) to Canada to watch the FIFA Women's World Cup. Never one to pass up a good adventure I immediately agreed. A quick trip in and out of Winnipeg to see the U.S. vs Australia and Sweden vs Nigeria games! </span><br>
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<span style="color: white;">The trip was planned months in advance but it really snuck up on me...especially because I had just begun to settle in after Italy (yeah, I know boo boo). The weather reported varying conditions but thankfully we were just in town for a game...what could have been a potentially unpleasant packing experience was quite simple: chucks, jeans and plenty of America gear. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I was in charge of "team shirts," of course I remembered the week we were leaving...what's a girl to do when you need cute America uniforms with a limited amount of time? Hop on Etsy, duh...in case you were wondering American flag tank tops pulls up some great finds. Shout out to GoodieTees, for the stylish swag and quick shipping! </span> </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">We arrive in Winnipeg <a href="x-apple-data-detectors://1" x-apple-data-detectors-result="1" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">Sunday evening</a>, when we asked the rental car guy about directions to the hotel he laughs, points and says it's about 30 seconds away. Odd response dude, then we found the hotel...it was probably about 30 seconds away. After we checked into the hotel we decided to explore Winnipeg. We headed down to the lobby and I asked the front desk attendant for restaurant recommendations...she gives me a perplexed look, sassily mumbles if anything is open (it's about <a href="x-apple-data-detectors://2" x-apple-data-detectors-result="2" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">8 pm</a>...) and begins her arduous Google search. She gives us a vegan burger place and a "fancy" burger place...she must know we're from America? When I ask for directions she informs me that "it is downtown"...she loves her job (PS Canada stop giving ambiguous directions). We set off to explore downtown Winnipeg, that didn't last long. It could have been that it was late on a <a href="x-apple-data-detectors://3" x-apple-data-detectors-result="3" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">Sunday evening</a> (<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Winnipeg shuts down earlier than Malibu)</span> or maybe that we accidentally stumbled into the Canadian skid row but it was a ghost town. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Now we know what the customs official meant when he said, "hopefully this will encourage them to clean up their act."</span> We quickly gave up "discovering" Winnipeg and decided to grab some grub. We made a hard pass on the vegan food and went for the fancy burger. If you find yourself in Winnipeg, I advise you to find yourself at Nuburger. It was phenomenal. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Putting a team like the U.S. in Winnipeg was a pretty smart move for Canada, obviously going to bring in a lot of tourism aka $$$...I see what you're doing Canada. Props. Thankfully the games were in the afternoon so we could sleep in...you know because we had such a hard travel day yesterday? We wake up to a fresh box of Tim Hortons' donuts, there are more of these than Starbucks so they had to be good right? Wrong. Canada the donut is delicious as is...what are you doing? Whatever. We gear up and head to the stadium. It's massive. We arrive at the stadium at 1 (when the doors open) so we can get parking and check out the store...did you really go to the event if you didn't get merch? We beeline for the store...all Canadian apparel...wrong store. From across the arena we see a line beginning to form, we quickly ditch the Canada store and head to the official Fifa store. The line wasn't too long, this should go by fast? Wrong. It was over an hour! We finally get into the store and it's mayhem in a confined space. We grab what we like as we go and make decisions later...we gotta get out of there fast. We make our purchases and make our way back out into the sunlight. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">It's basically all Americans. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">One of the best parts of attending an event like the World Cup or the Olympics, is the unity and nationalism you see in the fans...and you better believe Americans put out. We look like a frat party on the Fourth of July. It's as awesome and obnoxious as you are envisioning...if you don't know why the world hates us you do now. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: white;">The. Nigerian. Fans. Were. Epic. There were patches of them throughout the crowd and you wanted to be wherever they were. They were singing, dancing, waving flags and even had their own instruments. After the first couple of minutes America decided Nigeria was our team. Sorry Sweden. One player in particular, good Lord was she fast! Sweden scored first, you heard a couple cheers and polite applause. But when Nigeria scored the crowd went wild. It was like this the whole game. Nigeria ended up tying the game in the last minutes and America lost it. For some perspective, Sweden is ranked 5th and Nigeria is ranked 33rd. Upset. Everybody loves the underdog. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">There was a little break between games and you better believe Henry and I took a nap. Alarm clock: a roaring crowd. Game time. There's really nothing like being in a packed stadium watching your country play...the atmosphere is electric. It was a sea of red white and blue! With a combination of the U.S. defense the first half and the fact that it was our team playing this game was a little more stressful than the first. But that's what makes a good game? You could definitely tell these teams, technically speaking, were better. There was more/better passing and we're the U.S...come on, the caliber. The first half was a little touch and go but we came out on top in the second. Great game. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Gotta love a double header. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">And now it's Tuesday, time to mosey on home. Winnipeg it's be real, thanks for the memories. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Winnipeg, MB, Canada49.8997541 -97.137493749.5721496 -97.7829407 50.2273586 -96.492046699999989tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-8432190602498212432013-10-01T16:12:00.001-07:002013-10-01T16:12:15.079-07:00Oktoberfest<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">So Shelb and I somehow managed to swing Oktoberfest for my birthday...I mean if I'm going to turn 25 I might as well make it good. But being the planners that we are we decided to go a couple of weeks before, apparently people plan months to a full year in advance. The hotel was easy (thank goodness for Hilton Honors...if it weren't for their forced hospitality we would not be able to be as sporadic), the flights were a little difficult but the tricky part was getting tent tickets. Basically all reservations were booked forever ago so we decided to wing it. </span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">We met up with our friend Matt late Friday night, he had flown in early and decided to scope out Oktoberfest. He informed us that everyone was dressed up in lederhosen and dirndls (lucky for us we were forewarned of the dress code and bought costumes in London...unlucky for us in comparison to the traditional garb everyone else was donning it was pretty evident that we in fact had purchased our outfits at a costume store) and he had just waltzed into the Hofbräuhaus House...one of the most difficult tents to get into. Side note...if you are looking for a real traditional German tent this tent is not for you...if you are looking for a good time with lots of internationals head on over. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Now we had heard many stories of how we should "do" Oktoberfest...but I'm pretty sure ours was the best. First, eat a good breakfast...its Oktoberfest you should have one goal in mind (aside from not losing your friends or belongs) "don't be that guy/girl" no one likes the sloppy person passed out in front of a tent. Carb up this is a marathon not a race. Second, hit that ATM, it's cash only so fund accordingly. Third, hop on the underground and follow the sea of lederhosen to the proper exit. Fourth, there is no such thing as a line. We arrived at HB around 10 am and were ushered towards the beer garden to wait in line with the rest of the reservationless...so we did what any impatient American would do..."how much will it cost to get us in?" (another friends waited in line for 2 hours...in the cold) And fifth, find a table of interesting people. There are morning and afternoon reservations, a table fits about 10, and unless you want to stand and support your liter of beer on your own you need to leech onto a table. Thankfully my travel partners were Matt (one of the most gregarious and outgoing people you will ever meet) and my sister (who could basically make friends with a rock and every guys type)...we made a lot of friends. On another note...Oktoberfest is probably one of the biggest confidence boosters...not only is it primarily (foreign) men (who LOVE California) but everyone is wearing beer goggles...</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">You know the feeling you get when you're watching a live game...the sights, the smells the energy...that's what Oktoberfest is like...the morning is the warm up and once the band gets going...game on. Loud polka begins to flood the hall...normally no one is ever excited for polka...but at Oktoberfest...it is awesome. And when they tire of polka and start playing the good old American classics...it gets wily. Tragically the "dance floor" does not form until night...so we make due with what we have table tops (yet another reason to mob the tables). The best part about sitting at the tables (aside from the prime dance floor) is the constant barrage of food and drinks from the waitresses...once your stein looks like it might be losing steam there she is forcing another one upon you. And Matt being Matt made friends with all of the waitress (didn't matter that they didn't speak the same language) we were always well taken care of. The first day we were in HB for 12 hours...casual. Every time we thought about trying out another tent we would look outside at the swarms of people trying to break in and knew we were in the right spot. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Oktoberfest is like the adult version of Disneyland (and HB is like the Matterhorn) you definitely need a two-day pass...anything else is overly ambitious anything less there is no point in traveling alllll the way to Munich. HB was too good to us so we decided to kick off our Sunday back there then tent hop. We expected the hectic atmosphere from Saturday and we got it sans the queue. It was great all the study abroad kids and Americans had already gone home which left us with a hall filled with Aussies, Brazilians, Italians, Swiss, Danish...you get the point. Time gets lost when you are in a tent...the beer, the food, the new friends...a day of hopping turned into another day well spent at HB (only 10 hours today). The day was just as exceptional and I even got to brush up on my cotillion moves...swing dancing the night away with some delightful Danish men. All in all, I would go back in a heartbeat. It was the perfect mixture of mayhem and culture and I couldn't ask for a better way or with better people to celebrate my birthday. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-82676217332722746142013-09-23T09:52:00.001-07:002013-09-23T09:52:09.437-07:00How to Medal Without Competing<div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">We had been planning on sneaking into the Olympic Village but it appeared that the Olympic Village had come to us. After a long day of traveling we decided to call it a night...or so we thought. We had all unpacked, connected to the wifi, enjoyed our welcome treat and settled into bed. When I was catching up on my twitter news of the day I saw that Ryan Lochte, wanting to properly celebrate the end of his swim season tweeted that he was at Club Rose. Well you wouldn't believe it, but the club was 1.5 miles away from our hotel and it took us about 20 minutes to get ready and get to the club. Long story short...we cut the lines, confused the paparazzi, found Ryan, had a couple drinks with Ryan and danced the night away. It was the ultimate first day. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">The next day after a little room service we decorated ourselves in our most patriotic gear and marched our way through Trafalgar Square to Horse Gardens Parade for the gold and bronze men's beach volleyball game. Although America didn't make either game it was exhilarating watching the matches...Germany v. Brazil can you find a more rambunctious crowd? And of course another highlight of the day...we saw Pippa Middleton! </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "> </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">After the games and the medal ceremonies we headed back to the hotel. What could we do tonight? After a quick Google stalk it appeared as if China White was the place to go. After a late dinner we headed out to China White...it's Europe everyone goes out late we'll be fine. False the line was huge...well there were 2 lines and one was huge. We obviously tried for the fast moving line. We obviously didn't see that you needed credentials for the line...if you had a medal you went straight in or if you showed your Olympic credentials it took maybe five minutes. The doorman turns to us," oh are you athletes?" Huh...sure? After a little waiting and a couple new friends later we were in...and we were definitely part of a minority. And I don't mean because we're American...we were literally apart of the handful of people that weren't Olympic athletes. We all assumed athlete aliases and joined the party (I did shot put). We danced all night with our new athletic friends and after a few too many worried calls from our mothers we made our way home...around 4 am. Yes this seems late...but it's Europe, we were obviously jet lagged, you can't leave an Olympian hanging it would be unpatriotic/rude and our late night tirades would later prove very beneficial later.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">The next day was pretty mellow, no games for us. We relaxed, toured London, hung out in the Hilton Honors Club with the USA women's gymnastic team (I met Gabby Douglas in the elevator I was way too embarrassing/shy for meeting a 16 year old...whatever), and my mom and Trisha were randomly given tickets to attended the USA men's indoor volleyball match. That night we decided to go back to China White...same story, we were yet again part of the minority. Now we had gotten into the bad habit of strolling home in the wee hours of the night and our mothers weren't too happy about it (to say the least). However, lucky for them, just as we were coming home last minute tickets for the games were also being released...and who got tickets to the men's championship basketball game (rows from the court) hours before the match. USA v Spain...epic doesn't even begin to describe this event. The USA men's basketball team is really the only team(/sport) that has a global following and this game was packed (not to mention one of the first games to sell out). </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">After the USA collected another gold the crowd and the team went wild...and who do I see mobbing the celebration crowd (same row...seats away from me) none other than Vin Diesel and Tyrese Gibson (they were filming Fast 6...if you haven't seen it I don't know you. A good friend of mine described it as either "the greatest movie in human history or the greatest event in human history...and I happen to whole heatedly agree). So we joined them and after a few pictures, Tyrese accidentally mistaking my mom for his wife and a medal celebration later we were on our way to the Closing Ceremonies. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">Opening ceremonies were weird. Closing was one of the coolest events I have ever attended (in general our "Olympic Journey" was out of this world and this finale definitely topped what seemed like an unstoppable trip). Literally every major British musician performed (past and present), the light shows were unreal, the processions were unforgettable and the company was extraordinary...750 million people from around the world tuned into it. I probably should have brought my inhaler I lost my breath so many times...that was lame but seriously when you see One Direction, Ed Sheeran, Russel Brand, Jessie J, Tinie Tempah, Taio Cruz, Muse, Queen, the Spice Girls, The Beatles and The Who on one stage...words can't properly capture the moment. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">On our way home we were packed like sardines on the tube...what first appeared to be a painstaking journey turned into quite the networking tool. We happened to sit next to the son of the US team's diving coach and he told us all about his cool experiences in the UK...our long haul into the city turned into a piece of cake with our new friend. After exiting the tube and making our way to the streets we were pretty exhausted. We trudged back into our hotel to find that team USA was having a closing party at our hotel in the Dream Suite. Lets see how far our good luck (and all the Olympic souvenirs from the Closing Ceremonies)could get us? </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">Guess who walked past security and into the party...a perfect last night.</div><div><br></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-Br2K3sZh01Dz3V_nlaCyaNlxSwO-zwGOUcunln3VACnAa3eU8NcTHBx65wmOIi8LDxJCXUCnueus5pg-F85WYTi1Hd4bHGyfy85wjVM7VI2woaXgwp25nByByfFiiVeRqrGqEoQE04/s640/blogger-image--1641981474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-Br2K3sZh01Dz3V_nlaCyaNlxSwO-zwGOUcunln3VACnAa3eU8NcTHBx65wmOIi8LDxJCXUCnueus5pg-F85WYTi1Hd4bHGyfy85wjVM7VI2woaXgwp25nByByfFiiVeRqrGqEoQE04/s640/blogger-image--1641981474.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0London London51.520993 -0.072233tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-49101441065175148972013-09-10T10:41:00.001-07:002013-09-10T10:41:37.843-07:00The Ito's Guide to Doing the Olympics<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Part 1: The Setup </span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br><div>Sometimes the best adventures are the ones that fall into your lap, and that is how we found ourselves in London during the 2012 Olympics. As a precaution, it is not advised to follow any of these guidelines if you are a neurotic perfectionist that creates daily todo lists...it's basically asking for a breakdown. And for you sporadic wanderlusters out there, you're welcome- here is my guide, you can live vicariously through me. </div><div><br></div><div>Step 1: Planning the trip</div><div>About a year ago, as my family sat around the breakfast table an article from the Wall Street Journal really caught my eye. As I scanned the article I decided to share with the rest of the family. "I guess there are still tickets available for Olympic Games." As the words slipped out of my mouth ears began to perk up. My mom and sister immediately grabbed their iPads...my mom began checking hotels and my sister started looking at flights. My poor dad just chuckled and kept reading the paper. Flights were reasonable (we were day 2 into the Olympics) and since my mom is a Hilton Diamond Member we are guaranteed a room...anywhere. Mom, "Looks like we're going to England?" Dad (chuckles, never makes eye contact and more importantly never denies or accepts our outlandish request). So we booked it. </div><div><br></div><div>Step 2: Mates </div><div>When preparing for a trip it is extremely important to be very selective with choosing travel buddies. Well, we had a week, who would travel around the world with us, on a whim? "I think I have someone," Shelb murmurs as she grabs her phone and texts her friend Amy. After a little coaxing and schedule adjustments Amy and her mom Tricia decided to "just go with it." (In retrospect this could be a very dangerous mantra, but fortunately for us, it resulted in great opportunities and grand adventures). Now we had a group of five fearless females but we decided to extended an invitation to one more individual...Alisha. Alisha never really traveling outside of the US was a surprise addition; we booked our reservations a week in advance...when Alisha finally got the green light for travel she booked hers days in advance...we assured all of our travel companions, from past experience it's all you really need. The uncertainty and randomness is one of the most alluring qualities of last minute booking. </div><div><br></div><div>Step 3: Tickets</div><div>As the Wall Street Journal assured us, there were plenty of open seats...just not for Americans. Yeah that's right, we have completely booked our Euro adventures with one goal in mind, cheering on America in the most patriotic way we can think of. But, and this is a good one...each country is allotted a certain number of tickets and guess who bought all their tickets, you guessed America is totally sold out. Well, we could panic or we could just go with it. So I'm going through my insta and I see one of my friends posted a pic at the games...so I shoot her a message asking how she scored the tickets. She informed me she was studying out there for the summer and she had used her dorm address...well after that we had no problem getting tickets. Now, because we decided to go week 2 (championship week) our newest issue is figuring out which games we we're going to place in. We decided on the men's beach volleyball championship (the Americans did not make it), the men's basketball championship (obviously the Americans were going it...obviously it was incredibly sold out...so we didn't get tickets) and the closing ceremonies (America dominated). We purchased the volleyball and closing and decided to try our luck with the men's basketball closer to the game (spoiler alert we got tickets). </div><div><br></div><div>Step 4: Lodging </div><div>After reviewing all the different Hilton locations available we decided on the Waldorf Astoria...and being that my mom is a Hilton Diamond Member the oversold hotel was obligated to lodge us. Generally when we book a room we receive an upgrade and with the size of our crew we were banking on it. However, when we arrived at the hotel what we ordered is what we got...a double bed. Confused we caravanned into the hotel in groups...we had only reported 3 people in the room...we now had 6 people for 1 double bed, and that is how we managed to turn the Waldorf Astoria into the Waldorf Hostel. Whatever, we can make it work. After we had settled into our room we made our way to the Hilton Honors Club, and who do we find lounging in the club? None other than the American women's gymnastics team and a couple members of our men's swim team...well now we know why we couldn't get an upgrade. Aside from the Olympic village the American and Chinese Olympic teams had set up camp at the Waldorf Astoria...lets just say not being affiliated with an Olympic team made us a minority...and so begins day 1 of our week trip to London. </div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0City of London City of London51.51732 -0.081106tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-63401733461362608342013-03-27T14:30:00.001-07:002013-03-27T14:48:48.197-07:00Day Trippin Well as the saying goes, "you win some, you lose some?" Such was today's feeling as we made our way to Toledo. The tone of the day was set with the dreary Madrid weather, ominous clouds filled the sky, scattering showers throughout the city. The foreboding weather, a late start and a language barrier dictated our travel choice. All morning we had been torn between Toledo, a medieval town 30 minutes from Madrid, or Valencia, a modern and artsy beachy town. It wasn't as if one was better than the other, both came highly recommended...its just that we had just been leaning towards Valencia. <br />
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Our first warning sign of the day, our first gypsy sighting at the train station. This clever gypsy, unlike Italian or French gypsies, she well was camouflaged into the crowd...or at least to us. She appeared out of thin air, as most gypsies do, dressed in a trendy fur vest and trendy Euro hat. Cub was her first victim, we had left her behind at a table as Sue and I stood in line ordering our cappuccinos. The sneaky gypsy crept up to the table, Cub seeing her true intentions quickly scrambled for our scattered belongings, denying the gypsy's request for, "moneda." After slinking through the tables she came upon the line of weary caffeine seeks. One after the other people turned the gypsy away...and she made her way toward the "naive Americans." As I stood innocently collecting my beverage the gypsy slowly crept from behind (I was an easy target to spot in my Patagonia...clearly from California). Just as she was about to pounce, Sue comes out of nowhere with a firm, "no...(and other inaudible Spanglish)!" The gypsy was thrown, she immediately retreated to prey on other weary travelers. <br />
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Anyways...after the incident we hopped on our bullet train. These impressive locomotives make traveling too easy, from day trips between London and Paris to traversing the entire country of Japan, trains are a fabulous way to see a countryside without actually having to see the countryside. Traveling at 120 kph we are in Toledo in 30 minutes...sweet. However, with such an abrupt thrust into our Toledo day trip we hadn't planned an itinerary (I like a prepared itinerary so I'm not wandering in circles all day). As we exit the train, advertisements for different tours litter the lobby. Which one do we pick? The one that offers the red double decker bus, tickets to the main sights and a guided tour. It seems as if a majority of our train compañeros were making their way to the bus, so it seems only appropriate we do too. We hopped onto the bus and scored some rooftop seats (don't worry it was only lightly misting and really windy but at least we had raincoats...conditions were basically perfect). <br />
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The beautiful city is nestled into the Spanish countryside, in the hill country and secured in a medieval fortress. It was the capital of Spain under the Romans and in the 8th century the Moors settled in leaving behind an eclectic legacy and culture. The tour bus circled the exterior of the city allowing for an impressive view of the stronghold while occasionally pausing along the road to allow for Kodak moments and brief history blurbs. We crossed the Rio Tajo and entered the city through a bridge on the south side of the city; it is a surreal moment as you enter the town. Almost as though you are entering a time warp, you half expect to see a horse drawn carriage and knights prancing around...then you see McDonald's. Ok Spain. We are let out at a plaza to look around...then the bus leaves. Yeah...it left...and not just us, everyone. We were handed a map and sent on our way. So basically we paid for an overpriced city bus..."well at least it's not raining." Cue the rain...(I wish I made that up). W quickly scamper into the nearest (cutest) boutique. I guess we'll hang in here for a bit. <br />
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The rain seemed to disappear as quickly as it arrived. We take to the streets in search of a lunch stop. All our friends and the travel books warned us that the winding streets and steep hills were exasperating...and to expect to get lost. And so was the rest of the day. Traveling seemingly deserted alleyways and discovering hidden shops and restaurants until we found one we liked. After a long lunch we resurfaced into the city to see the other attractions. We stumbled into the Catedral to find the back entrance coved in gypsies. We decided to seek out anther entrance. As we hand the man our tickets he informs us that they are not real. Dejectedly we venture into the office to procure legitimate tickets only to discover that it was 6 and the Catedral closes at 6:30 so we can't buy the tour headset...awesome. We then enter one of the most beautiful Catedrals I have ever seen (the Spanish Catholics really know how to design a church). The interior design of the church reflects that of a traditional gothic style, however because of the Moor presence in the region it allows for a wonderful collision of cultures and influences that make it completely unique unto itself. <br />
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After we exit the Catedral we have come to a conclusion we are pretty over Toledo. Hopefully, one day, we can dedicate the time and patience to this medieval wonder, but for now we need to get outta here. We jump on a train for Madrid...40 minutes later find ourselves in the hotel lobby. Trying to salvage what is left of the day we head to the concierge to discuss possible ideas for the night. <br />
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We determine that our best course of action is: attend a Flamenco show. We scuttle across town and are dropped off in another deserted alleyway, where we find a hidden door with a sign that directs us to our destination. The host guides us through the tiny restaurant towards our table. We missed dinner but we didn't mind. Soon the lights dimmed and the performers took the stage. For the next two hours we are dazzled by the singers, the Spanish guitarists and the dancers. Flamenco is a beautiful dance to which the dancers last create their own music and rhythm with their fancy footwork. Everyone is captivated by the mesmerizing display before us (the particular show is featured in the book "1,000 Things to do Before You Die"). After a long day, it is almost as if our day has been redeemed...gracias Madrid. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowC-Qg3ajqgdkv4Av9WarNUJrdST_FtNJ5VPsJoGibbDXPtDfrjPuA_d5lkcrtpKACYVXrW841g8Iwezqqr1e4tQk4beLKZOpChyZ6gLcsPZO-MTQrjoGFkImfG2QMyxpfB8R2tbVSw4/s640/blogger-image--1077711975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowC-Qg3ajqgdkv4Av9WarNUJrdST_FtNJ5VPsJoGibbDXPtDfrjPuA_d5lkcrtpKACYVXrW841g8Iwezqqr1e4tQk4beLKZOpChyZ6gLcsPZO-MTQrjoGFkImfG2QMyxpfB8R2tbVSw4/s640/blogger-image--1077711975.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPewEcp1-uAm4BuV0LJKtHGxUF1I36DN2X8nVTBUrLB9t1Bgrzx7IQSnevNgQnSzJQoagb53N58zoVGuQzemY5MNVKh43mIqAr5sy4u-2VeZIFIL4TK0CEiG6kH9hjtzQ_paFZhcsXxNo/s640/blogger-image--736662545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPewEcp1-uAm4BuV0LJKtHGxUF1I36DN2X8nVTBUrLB9t1Bgrzx7IQSnevNgQnSzJQoagb53N58zoVGuQzemY5MNVKh43mIqAr5sy4u-2VeZIFIL4TK0CEiG6kH9hjtzQ_paFZhcsXxNo/s640/blogger-image--736662545.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunLnxfRQwNnWiFunM7SsB2x0mdNP6-eTrAVRqQmY96j7NP3tc-QuMeIdXlaRcN8pGzZdZ3uaHXq0XgSR92KQOh9PV7tXLlUJg-rycmJIZ3XD9FYBhqdFEuNlW-sQOX4ay8xx1y-Fdwk0/s640/blogger-image--968836960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunLnxfRQwNnWiFunM7SsB2x0mdNP6-eTrAVRqQmY96j7NP3tc-QuMeIdXlaRcN8pGzZdZ3uaHXq0XgSR92KQOh9PV7tXLlUJg-rycmJIZ3XD9FYBhqdFEuNlW-sQOX4ay8xx1y-Fdwk0/s640/blogger-image--968836960.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-35907821214705361282013-03-25T08:00:00.001-07:002013-03-27T14:04:10.532-07:00Basqueing In The SunAfter two years Cub (my sister/faithful travel companion) and I have finally made our way back into Basque Country. And let me tell you, Basque life is the good life. Our past travels found us in this magical land for our friend Lakey's surf contest. What we thought was a casual weekend excursion to the South of France was so much more. This little stretch of land is nestled in between Southern France and Northern Spain, and has a unique culture that doesn't quite reflect that of the French or Spanish. And that is exactly how they prefer it (the Basque citizens are the original Euro settlers and their language predates that of the Romantic languages). Picturesque coastal cityscapes atop lofty cliff sides. Each tiny town is a patchwork of cobblestone alleyways, elegant boutiques, quaint cafés, and beautiful people. <br />
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San Sebastián is a major tourist destination, for Europeans. Unlike most other European countries, English is a necessity for tourism...but Spain and France only care for their own language...thus far Cub and I have been able to brush up on our Spanish skills (my mom has developed her own type of Spanglish which only she can comprehend). But in the land of the Basque they have a unique vernacular that we can't seem to grasp. Damn, we'll have to find another way to fit in with the locals...Cub and I have come up with two solutions to our problem: steal a dog or find a strapping young man with a moped. We settled for renting bikes. <br />
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The tiny city boasts a rolling promenade that connects the three beaches, to Old Town, and to the City Center. The city is a marvel, San Sebastián, or as the locals know it Donostia, has a trendy, beachy vibe which is quite the juxtaposition to the elegant Victorian architecture. I love tiny cities where I am able to find my bearings after a day yet it still contains enough hidden treasures to keep me captivated. Although the weather was a little temperate (the climate is effected by the Pyrenees Mountains) it was still a perfect holiday . We had three days in the city, and didn't have a moment to lose. We threw our bags in our room and headed down to Old Town for a little afternoon shopping and aperitivos. To our dismay EVERYTHING was closed expect for one street filled with the little taperías. One of the many reasons I am obsessed with España is because of the importance they place on their siestas (it's genius really). Now, Barcelona kind of does siestas...but San Sebastián really does siestas. During these hours the town closes its doors heads to the bars and enjoys the weekend. <br />
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"No pasa nada," is the Spanish way of life and it is what makes this culture so rich and carefree. And because we're all about being local we decide to partake. Tapas bars in Basque languages are a bit intimidating so we head into a creperie. You can't go wrong with a place that serves desserts and cappuccinos (basic necessities of course). After a hearty lunch we head back to the hotel for our own siesta. But being such a beautiful day, Shelb and I couldn't possibly stay in for long. We throw on some warmer clothes grab our bikes and explore the city...again. But this time everything was open. It was as if a new life had been breathed into the city. We rolled up and down the coast stopping every five feet to capture a little piece of the view to take home with us. <br />
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Upon our return we quickly threw on some fancy threads, for we had dinner in 30 minutes at Botafumeiro, a quaint, little, Michelin star, restaurant located in the oldest farm house in the area. A little eery being the only guests in the restaurant but we foolishly made reservations at 9, the place began to liven up around 10! If you ever find yourself in San Sebastián (which if you have Euro plans in your future get to España it's...the best) you can't miss this rustic experience. If you're into old school elegance and waiters catering to your every move then Botafumeiro is definitely your style. You have a handful of waiters that have been assigned to shadow your every move, anticipating your every desire and need. And that's just the service, the food is an unearthly concoction of old world Basque delicacies that melt in your mouth. If a restaurant can prepare a fois gras tasty enough for me to consider seconds I think they can satisfy any insatiable palate. <br />
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The next two days were filled with long bike rides, beach naps, tea parties and boutique shopping. Farewell Basque Country, hasta luego. Besos. <br />
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I believe that when possible, bike tours are the perfect way to see a city. What better way to acquaint oneself with a new place than taking to the streets! I had previously used Fat Tire tours a couple summers ago in Paris and remembered that they had a Barcelona tour. The idea didn't take much coaxing because it was a beautiful day and who wants to go to the gym when you have a better alternative. I can't speak more highly of the company...you travel around the city pausing at major landmarks for a brief history blurb but you don't feel bombarded by boring, irrelevant facts. The guides are young travelers (in Paris we had a UCSB water polo bro from norcal...in Barca we had an Aussi gypsy on a long holiday) that fell in love with the city and want to share it with fellow bikers? We met our group a la Plaza Sant Jaume, then we walked over to the shop grabbed some beach cruisers and made our way along the windy cobblestone roads to Plaza del Rei. After our lesson in the the the gorgeous plaza my mother decided it was the most opportune moment to take a couple tourist snapshots. But for the technologically inadvanced...one quick shot turned into accidental selfies which resulted in that "awkward moment" when you lose your tour group in a crowded city to which you can barely navigate yourself. <br />
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The company is pretty lax and there really is only one rule (besides "have fun") if you get lost stay in the same place and the guide will come back to find you. Well we sort of stayed in the same place...but Sue needed to check out the little zapatarias and Shelb was parched. So...as I see the our guide on the other side of the busy plaza I attempt to gather the attention of my travel companions while swimming through a sea of tourists and lose the guide...again. Well 30 minutes later we're still at the plaza and decide maybe we should try to make our way back to the shop...we find a note on the door, "lost people I will find you." How reassuring. After a couple minutes of waiting, another guide finds us and takes us to find our group. Well we have missed La Catedral but we meet them a la Arc de Triomf, yep Spain has one too...and I know this is a bold statement but it is more beautiful than the one in Paris (just keepin it real...). We then make our way to La <span class="title">Parc de la Ciutadella to see </span>Gaudi's Fountain...which is nothing like his other works in the city but that is because he was the apprentice but in Barcelona Gaudi is God and it's his. We then make our way to the Barcelona Plaza del Toros (the infamous bullfighting ring). Now I don't know about you but there are a couple of things I think of when I make my to do list for Spain and bullfighting was pretty up there...but when you hear about the gruesome nature of the sport (grant it there was a definite bias by the storyteller...) but it is safe to say that it is no longer on my list. After a horrifying revelation of present day bullfighting we made our way to La Sagrada Familia which truly is a masterpiece, and even though we had toured it the day before it was definitely worth a second go around. We then head to the beach where we gazed over Port Olimpic and enjoyed a late lunch on the beach. What is most interesting about Barcelona is that it didn't become a major tourist destination until the 90's when they hosted the Olympics...which is crazy because this city has SO much to offer (if you can't tell already I am completely infatuated). After lunch and losing the group "only" two more times we made it back to the bike shop feeling wonderfully content. It was the perfect way to see the city, once again completely impressed with Fat Tire Tours. We were able to explore a beautiful city, made new friends from around the world and had a great history lesson filled with interesting facts that you don't normally receive on a tour. Bravo Fat Tire.<br />
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Well the only appropriate thing to do after a 4 hour, 7 mile tour is shopping and an afternoon cappuccino/pie/instagram break. Around 6 we headed back to the hotel for a little siesta (I could really get used to this...honestly who doesn't love a nap and a late dinner...I need to move to Europe). We woke up around 8:45, called the concierge for a good paella restaurant and headed out to the famous Botafumeiro...divine. If you're in town go...after dinner we set Sue on her merry way and headed out into the famous Barcelona nightlife. The only advice we got from our friends was "head to the beach" so we did. What looks like little lean-tos along the beach front were actually massive underground disco techs with many dance floors. Heading down the secret staircase at midnight we knew it would be empty...its Spain we get it no one goes out until 2...what we did not expect to find was a toga party, as Asher Roth famously professed, "I Love College." We danced the night away jumping from discoteca to discoteca...what a night.<br />
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Our last day in Spain was spent at the Museo Picasso, tracking down leather boutiques, and chasing the sunset. Tomorrow we leave for San Sebastian, back to the Basque country.<br />
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Don't worry Barca I will be back...soon. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Barcelona, Spain41.3850639 2.173403499999949441.1944789 1.8506799999999495 41.5756489 2.4961269999999494tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-19410911056906587192013-03-20T16:56:00.001-07:002013-03-23T07:54:04.993-07:00Barca BoundGenerally the most stressful part of a trip is the traveling. Rushing to gates, the colossal customs lines, sitting in cramped quarters for extended periods of time and the ever formidable collecting of luggage. Lucky for us, we managed to make it unscathed (for the most part) from Los Angeles to Barcelona. And now, after a grueling 15 hours of traveling we find ourselves in the beautiful Barcelonian twilight. The stunning architecture is unparalleled to any city I have traveled. The cities iconic spirit and architecture can be attributed to the genius of Antoni Gaudí. The rich nightlife is accented by scattered light and roaming Europeans...minutes in the city and we have fallen. As we make our way to the hotel waves of exhaustion begin to set in as we stumble into our room and onto our beds. <br />
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Fact: I can fall asleep anywhere and anytime, my faithful travel companions (mom and Shelb) are another story. You know that horrible, and I mean painfully painstaking feeling when you are awaked from a deep slumber prematurely? Well around 2:30 am I am forcefully jerked from mine. My mom and sister have not acclimated to our new time zone and have decided that now (when technically we should be going out flamenco dancing) it is the most appropriate time to FaceTime with my dad. Grant it who doesn't love a good FaceTime with Jorge but really, now is the most appealing time for this conversation? Great so it's 3 am, we're all awake now (but not in the lets be productive and see the city type of way) and nothing is on except for Spanish psychics and Bob Esponja (Spongebob Squarepants). But you can only watch cartoons in another language for so long before it begins to get a little ridiculous. Well 1 bag of banana chips, peanut m&ms and a bag of check mix later and Sue comes up with the brilliant idea of chamomile tea and a side of Valium. See ya later. <br />
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Well Siri set my alarm for 8, but we rolled out of bed around 11:45. How embarrassing. Whatever, Barcelona gives NYC a run for its money. This city NEVER sleeps...well if you don't count their famous siesta hours. As we make our way out into the daylight we decided our first stop will be La Sagrada Familia, as the cab drops us off we see the line winding around the building. Yeah right, we all know how much patience I have for lines. We'll come back after lunch...I mean brunch. After brunch we make our way back to the church, phew the line has diminished significantly. We buy our tickets and retrieve our nifty headsets. But for serio, I love those touristy headsets, it's a wonderful way to explore the grounds without having to prance around in an obnoxious group. <br />
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The church's exterior is breathtaking, construction of the church began in 1882, by Gaudí and is still under construction today, in fact it is said to be "finished" in 2026. Good one Spain. The stylistic architecture, Spanish Late Gothic and Catalon Modernism, is still mirrored after Gaudí's original style. As you enter through the giant columns you enter what feels like a canopy of marbled trees with sparkling stained light illuminating the church. Gaudí wanted the space to feel as if you were in a forest with natural light peeking in through the little sky lights and beautiful stained glass mosaics. The sight is entrancing. When you enter a room it is unusual to see people stopped in awe starring at the ceiling then you look up and you too become intoxicated by the sights and sounds of this historic cathedral. After our sweet headphone's tour we rush over to the tower, we are crammed into the lift with the most beautiful elevator attendant you have ever seen (I think I have a new type) and are scuttled up to the heavens. As we reluctantly exit the elevator we are thrust out a top of the world. The view is spectacular we can see from the ocean to the mountains and everything in between. <br />
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After the church we continue our Gaudí tour and head to Park Güell. A work of art sitting a top of the city of Barcelona. The park is decorated with Gaudíesque mosaics and lively street music. Although it appears to be only a tourist stop it is also a local hang out. Guapo Spanish men jog around the park and senoras congregate along the benches to chat. It's a picturesque scene but alas the park closes at 6. After we leave to the park we head down to the famous La Rambla for a little walking, people watching and an early dinner. It feels good to be back in Europe. Buenos noches Barca. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_Z3Zx72iwCsUJYhX9u5JiPTK40ch4jHAOtUSVvg7s_ICGTFPtuYw36h5hbpGlz-aYZwI9B7jrs2n7SZgfpOulHifTQi8gFsKIozX9LIBpIzbZdEjBlYnfqh1qptqcGSu69LXnmDVrkw/s640/blogger-image--769517343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_Z3Zx72iwCsUJYhX9u5JiPTK40ch4jHAOtUSVvg7s_ICGTFPtuYw36h5hbpGlz-aYZwI9B7jrs2n7SZgfpOulHifTQi8gFsKIozX9LIBpIzbZdEjBlYnfqh1qptqcGSu69LXnmDVrkw/s640/blogger-image--769517343.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1L1lMUlNjZp7iK4RfOYfAWIG77yGA973JTdO_H5Evzvu6ljfvmKuEcNp5wxUVqA6rpFr5GQe862mUhp17QMMh0ihK8knalkTSdqa4wSxH-iNWPmBfKTeHaWrX45QtPuyHXo3f-Br69I4/s640/blogger-image-327609423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1L1lMUlNjZp7iK4RfOYfAWIG77yGA973JTdO_H5Evzvu6ljfvmKuEcNp5wxUVqA6rpFr5GQe862mUhp17QMMh0ihK8knalkTSdqa4wSxH-iNWPmBfKTeHaWrX45QtPuyHXo3f-Br69I4/s640/blogger-image-327609423.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-54420297100587611362012-08-03T01:11:00.003-07:002012-08-03T01:22:41.112-07:00To Never, Never LandThe time had finally come. We bid adieu to my mother and made our way to the airport. She shall return to the states and Shelb and I shall venture out to Laos. Through our travels we have met many that claimed Laos is a must (a Full Moon Party everyday), and if their word isn't enough my Ojisan (grandpa in Japanese) says it is gorgeous and that there is nothing like it (our trip plans were a little different from the sight seeing trip my grandparents participated in...or at least I presume).<br />
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Barely able to contain our excitement we scamper out of the plane and enter the visa line. We strike up a conversation with a couple of British girls and eagerly talk about what we "think" we are getting ourselves into. Our facts are sparse and limited, we know that we have just entered a scene from Avatar and that we will be spending the next couple of days floating down a "lazy river" in what sounds like an adult raging waters...we don't have much past those details but do you really need more? As we made our way to the bus stop we are intercepted by an Aussie. He asks if we want to split a cab to Vang Vieng...lets see a 5 hour bus ride with no AC or a 2.5 hour cab ride with AC...we opt for the cab and invite our British friends to join us. After about 10 minutes in the van we realize we've yet to introduce ourselves...our Aussie friend is Nathan, he is from Sydney and the two girls, Carlota and Frankie, are from London. We chat for awhile getting to know each other then all slowly drift into our own musings.<br />
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We arrive in Vang Vieng around noon and set out to find lodging, we had all read up on travel blogs and decided to seek out the Traveler's Lodge. To our dismay, it was full! No worries, we headed next door and were all able to get a room ($21 for 3 days...a private room, AC, a tv and wifi...gotta love Asia). After settling in Shelb and I threw on our suits and set out for a spot to grab lunch. We found a cozy little restaurant with beds and a constant stream of Friends (every restaurant played Friends or Family Guy) for the rest of the time in Vang Vieng we referred to it as Friends. You would be surprised how long you can sit in a restaurant and watch episodes of Friends, the classic humor translates to every language. Shelb and I were five episodes deep when we finally realized we needed to get out of there and get to the river!<br />
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We rolled out of bed and casually tuk tuked to the river.<br />
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The only way to properly describe the sites and sounds that filled out senses: beautiful mayhem. The river is lined with lean to, waterfront, bars. In order to get from one bar to another you must grab a tube and float down the river. After jumping in the tube the fast current drifts you in the direction of the next bar, you must then relay on the locals to throw out a buoy and guide you towards the bar. Everyone begins to migrate down river between noon and 2 pm, around 4:30 you grab a tube and float to bar 2, and then everyone casually drifts down to bar 3 (most of the time people end at bar 3). Upon entering each bar you are greeted by a nice British bloke (usually a guy on his gap year that visited Asia and just couldn't leave the bar...) who gives you a bracelet and whatever free treat the bar deems acceptable for its patrons. Bar 1 is generally a shot <strike>(actually...its every bar)</strike>, bar 2 is spray paint, bar 3 is a jump off their high dive, bar 4 is chili fries, bar 5 is a rope swing...and the others evade me at the moment.<br />
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Day 1 (rookie mistakes): Shelb and I made the trek to the river by ourselves. Our new friends decided to take the day off and rest after our day of traveling. A bit of advice to future travelers...less is more in Laos. No shoes, no shirt, and you are in service. On the river all you need is a swim suit, shades, a waterproof satchel (conveniently sold at all stores in Laos, also you can pick up your Van Vieng merchandise like epic bro tanks, 80's style work out shorts and waterproof cameras) and $$$. Also, renting a tube is not vital (if you are a girl...). Because Shelb and I had foolishly gone to the river fully clothed AND with a bag we weren't able to tube...lame. No matter...you are also able to do the hop by foot.<br />
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Day 2: The second day we met up with our friends around noon, got some lunch and headed down to the river. We had met a couple friends at the bars the day before and of course our British friends had friends traveling for the summer (Asia to the rest of the world is like Vegas for us...you always know someone there?). We grabbed a bucket, conjoined groups and sat on the docks enjoying the scenery, good company and pulsing bass. Each bar has a bucket bar, a DJ, games and the best part...everyone is in their 20s. But, first things first, Bar 1 is the perfect place to meet people, lots of foreign bros to compete with in volleyball, pong or jenga, a few rounds later and everyone is looking pretty chummy. Now you have your tube to float to the next bar! On the river we met the most interesting people kids on gap year, kids traveling, business men...the works. And the best part about the company, everyone is friendly, there for a good time and most importantly...we're one of the few Americans. Ha...Europe is FLOODED with American tourists so you're literally just another obnoxious tourist. In Asia, everyone is European, therefor if you are an American you are awesome, even more so if you are from California. Its like telling a person from the Midwest you are from Southern California...their faces light up like a kid on Christmas Day (#SorryImFromCali).<br />
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As the sun was going down, so was the party. We hopped in "our" tubes and floated down the river towards town. The day before we had tuk tuked home but were informed we could just float the 3-4 kilometers back to the town! We got out of the river and and promised to meet up with our friends after our siesta. A couple hours later we woke, went to Friends, and headed out for a night on the town. We met up with Carlota and Frankie and made our way to Bucket Bar. This trendy place is located on the water with and is comprised of flimsy bamboo frames and palm frawn roofs. The DJ booth overlooks the dance floor in a Gilligan's Island style tree house. The atmosphere is mellow when we first entered and continues on that way until the locals bring out the fire limbo. As always, it is highly unsafe but completely entertaining.<br />
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Day 3 (essentially the same timeline as day 2): Alas, it is our final day in Laos and we had to make the most of it (we decided to buy a waterproof camera to keep track of our memories...). Shelb and I had to fly out at 9 the next morning so we made our way to the bus stop to check the times...hmmm these aren't really compatible with our tubing schedule...guess we'll have to take another cab. How about you pick us up at....2:30 am? It seemed easier to stay the night in Vang Vieng then try to find a hotel near the airport...also, we would get to play a little longer. After arranging our travels we made our way to the river. And obviously, we didn't rent tubes...so much easier not to! We had another brilliant day on the river, met some more friends (I got proposed to again by a couple British men...its amazing what people will do for a green card?), danced our hearts out to fresh techno beats and of course (the most loathsome noise in the world) Call Me Maybe, ate some more chili fries, and fully embraced the glory of our youth. It was simply perfection. And then the sun began to set...then there was a minor miscommunication (mostly on my part)...and instead of taking a tuk tuk home we might have swam...the 4 km back to town! Completely idiotic idea...lets just say, I have never been more happy about my decision to join the VHS swim team.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Vang Vieng, Laos18.9333333 102.4518.903294300000002 102.410518 18.9633723 102.48948200000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-2440907154474909162012-07-12T11:00:00.003-07:002012-07-18T17:37:47.362-07:00Welcome to Bangkok, Home of the Hangover.It is quite the cultural shock entering the hustle and bustle of urban life after spending a week in the serene mountains and relaxing beach environment. We settle into our room, send Vic off, then decide to check out a night market...there's a bagillion to choose from in the city. First we head to The Peninsula to grab a drink and a water taxi ( I am growing fonder of this city the darker it gets). Bangkok is like the Asian Venice (just a bit dirtier) it is built along the river and has canals jutting out across the city. We find our stop and head for the market...we find a couple of cool things but mostly it is the same junk and we decide to grab a tuk tuk and head home (we find out the next day we ended up in the Red Light District...ok, Asia in general is kinda dirty...but if it looks SUPER sketch chances are it IS super sketch).<br />
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Well one day in the city was enough for us. We ordered a cab to pick us up at 7:30 am and we head out to the Damnoen Saduak Floating Markets (the original floating market), as of recent the market has received more Weston publicity and has become more commercialized and touristy but we had to do it. It really was quite the spectacle, motor and paddle boats cruise the canals like bumper cars bouncing off vessels and walls. Its like a puzzle trying to navigate through. If you see something of interest you just motion to the driver to take you to the stall, however some ambitious vendors will hook you and pull you in. Other vendors have set up shops in little paddle boats and ride along side you coaxing a sale. The sights, colors, sounds and smells are intoxicating as you drift along the canal, instantly infatuated with the imagery, and just like that you are in a neighborhood and your tour is over.<br />
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We meet up with our driver and decide to head to the Kanchaburi Bridge over the River Kwai to see the Burma Railway or the Death Railways. Faintly remembering the name from my 10th grade US history class, I'm so glad we made the trek out there. It was a lovely memorial created and sustained by the Thai people. This railway was a Japanese project during WWII it was built by American POWs and Asian prisoners and was created as a means of transportation for the Japanese between Bangkok and Burma. About 100,000 men died during the construction of this bridge.<br />
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After walking the bridge we decided to head to the Seven Tiered Waterfalls in the Erawan National Park to cool down. We had a 500 m walk then landed at the first fall. It was quite pretty, the water was a pale turquoise and the stream was dotted with little bamboo day beds for backpackers to lay out. Looks like we picked a good spot...then a monkey falls from a tree. It's my first monkey I'm pretty excited...Shelby turns pale." No, monkeys are evil!" She then launches into her monkey stories...and then I see a sign that reads, "Don't feed the monkeys! The monkeys are fierce, temperamental and dangerous." My elation soon transforms into terror...I would get attacked by crazed monkeys in a jungle 4 hours from Bangkok...too late to turn around? We've come this far might as well go for a swim, I take the first watch as my mom and Shelby take a dip. They swim toward the water and head towards the first fall, I reach for the camera and hear a familiar scream echoing through the gully. My mother is wailing at the base of the fall, well a monkey isn't attacking her, what's with the racket??<br />
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It's the fish!! They are biting her...a Thai trend is a fish pedicure. Here little fish nibble on your feet eating away at the dead skin. Gross...I know but Shelb and Vic swear by it. Except in this pool, the fish are full grown and it's no longer a nibble it's a full bite!! A group of Spaniards swim to the rescue shooing away the fish. I assume she is overreacting (per usual) and decide to go for a swim, if you keep moving they won't bite you (you must also stay clear of the sides...). We make it to the base of the fall unscathed then there it is my first bite. I yelp and scamper out of the waters...not so bad? Upon further inspection I realize I've really been bit...I have a bite mark on my foot! We throw our clothes on and head for the exit, not wanting to chance a monkey bite. We make it safely back into the car and drift into a deep sleep...we've been traveling for 12 hours...I'd say it's pretty well deserved. And besides we've got a big day tomorrow...3 days in Laos tubing down Vang Vieng...should be wild.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Bangkok, Thailand13.7234186 100.476231913.476614600000001 100.16037490000001 13.9702226 100.7920889tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-12335089696174444692012-07-10T05:55:00.001-07:002012-07-18T17:37:25.128-07:00She's A Mess of Gorgeous ChaosLast time I left you I was just coming to after attending a Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan. I now find myself on another island just a short ferry away, this beautiful utopia is called Koh Samui. Koh Samui is a small island located off the coast of Thailand in a grand archipelago consisting of 100 islands. Each isle consists of a tropical jungle which melts into rocky cliffs and sandy beaches. The views are unreal. <br />
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Out hotel is nestled into the steep cliffs on the south west side of the island. The hotel has ingeniously tiered the villas so that everyone is granted the glorious unhindered view of the other islands. Gazing off into the sea little peaks collect along the horizon as if mountain range were in the distance. It's quite a sight when the fog begins to roll in along the water (a good indication the afternoon storm is upon us) slowly engulfing the islands in a cloud of darkness. The clouds are so dense you lose sight of the islands...it's like a white out on the slopes...but better because there is thunder and lightening. <br />
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Because the islands are in such close proximity (and the baht is so darn cheap) it's fun to take day trips to the other islands. Our first trip was a snorkeling day excursion, we hopped on the boats and headed for Koh Tao, we were informed the journey was about an hour and a half...not bad with a good book and some tunes? Syke. What appeared to be a relaxing ride turned into the perfect storm. On the open sea, a little ocean spray is a refreshing surprise and much welcomed. As we got further out to sea the waves gradually became larger and the spray turned into buckets. Welcome to South East Asia. A crew member thrust life jackets in our direction, are we going down? From the opposite deck we see him pantomiming...use the jackets as a roof? Oh...a water shield...what was an entirely miserable experience transformed as we regained body heat under our water shields. <br />
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Just as we got comfortable the engine purr ceased and we found ourselves anchored. We quickly shed our waterlogged clothing, gathered our snorkel gear and dove off the boat. Only rookies listen to the safety talks...but really (we know how to swim and if there's a shark don't pet it). Even though it is monsoon season we still had killer visibility; the reefs seemed endless, illuminated by the rich blues of the ocean and multitudes of colorful fish (reminder: I need to come back for a dive trip during the appropriate season...any volunteers?). After about an hour we headed back to the boat where we are shuttled off to a little village for some lunch. (FYI homemade Thai food is phenomenal). After lunch we head for another island just a rock skip away, Koh Nanhyuan. We anchor in a little cove and set out towards the beach. This area is known as the three islands because they are all connected by little foot bridges. The islands are surrounded by a ring of coral reefs and fine white sandy beaches it was an ideal stop. We hiked to the highest point of the island and were rewarded with an impressive 360 view. After our Asian picture spree we retreated to the beach for a refreshing dip before we had to return to the boat. <br />
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After our boating trip we were still pretty exhausted the next day (no judgements...we're on vaca). We decided to spend a relaxing day at the hotel, the morning began with yoga on the pier. After yoga my mom and I met Shelb and Vic for breakfast (Steve had flown home at 7 am) and after breakfast we headed down to the pool. After a lazy day of lounging around we decided to take a Muay Thai (Thai boxing) class, my brother had instructed us it is a must...can't argue with baby. <br />
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Let me paint you a picture of our class: class was held on a waterfront pier, it's about 90 degrees and humid, Shelb,Vic a random Asian man and I make up the student body, and the Thai version of Jackie Chan (also my yoga instructor) is our teacher...I wont say we were the most talented and I definitely wouldn't say we were the hardest working...but we looked damn good doing it? Or silly enough that the entire pool staff kept coming by to gawk at us...ya, pretty impressive. Although, our class was cut short because of the storm I'd say we got a lot out of the class. We learned the basics and even got to spar. If we can't make it to a fight...might as well have our own!<br />
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The next day we decided to go for another boating trip. We hired a long tail boat for three hours and set sail for the five islands. Our first stop we jumped in for a snorkel in a remote cove, due to the storm the night before our visibility wasn't the greatest but the scenery is far too beautiful to ever complain. As we jumped back in the boat we are instantly dried by the sun. We then set sail for another close island and decide to try our hand at a little fishing (in my 23 years of existence I have never caught a fish...I hate fishing). We anchored near an old pier and dropped a couple lines in about 5 minutes later Vic and my mom already have bites. Just when I begin to pout I realize where I am...I am on a long tailed boat in the middle of the Thai islands with an exquisite backdrop and phenomenal company...I couldn't ask for more. And just as I'm getting my zen back on, I feel a tug. Obviously I scream then begin to reel in my line. I had just caught my first fish (it was the size of my hand but who cares)!! After a day of snorkeling and fishing we decide to take the boat around the islands for some sight seeing before we head back to Koh Samui. <br />
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On our last full day on the island we decide to head into the city for some shopping and sightseeing. We got into town and went straight for the beach (typical) now what kind of mischief can we get into here...sketch food vendors, beach bars and water sports...we beeline for the sea do rentals but our eye is caught by the speed boat dragging a banana. Sold. I don't care how old you are...that is always a good time. We throw our stuff down, grab life jackets and "gracefully" mount the banana. We have 20 minutes on this bad boy...the driver starts off easy clearly underestimating our abilities. We decide to play with him and ride without hands...bad idea. From there it was game on...the rest of the time was spent doing donuts and jumping wakes, talk about whip lash. On the last donut we manage to stay on which provokes him to cattail...we are THROWN face first in a dog pile off the banana. He then waves and drives away. Cheers. <br />
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After a little shopping we head back to the hotel for a cooking class. When I travel I like to take a cooking class and learn some traditional meals to attempt to make for my family and friends when I am home (also Steven had requested we take the class). We were the only people that had signed up for the day so it was a private class. We spent the next two hours cooking, it was great getting back in the kitchen. We learned how to make Laab Chicken, Chicken Phad Thai and a Seafood Curry. After each dish we would sit at the table to taste test our creations...we were soon joined by scavengers as Shelb and Vic got hungry. A great way to end our relaxing stay in the islands. Next stop Bangkok...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Ko Samui, Surat Thani, Thailand9.5120168 100.01359299.3867338 99.855664400000009 9.6372998 100.1715214tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-6340387024210534012012-07-05T04:22:00.001-07:002012-07-18T17:28:00.988-07:00The Full Moon PartyI can feel the light before I can see it. I open my eyes to see that I am swimming in a pool of dried paint and sand. I smile as images of the last 24 hours drift through my head. Surreal. I slowly sit up and reach for my camera, I need hard evidence last night was real. Paint party, Thai buckets, fire and lady boys. Yep, we had survived the legendary Full Moon Party in Koh Phangan and it was the best night of my life. Sorry, I digress my real story begins a mere 24 hours earlier ...on July 3. <br />
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We collect our luggage from the baggage carousal and head to the ticketing counter. Praying there are still ferry tickets available...10,000 people attending and we don't have tickets to the island...talk about anxiety. But we are in luck, heaps available. We purchase our tickets and are immediately corralled into buses where we are shuttled off to the harbor. We hop on the bus and meet two guys from Florida, ew one has a faux hawk and they both have eyebrow slits...tools. We get to talking and their silly appearances are from their last trip, they were in Vietnam and were playing a game called Claim. If you didn't complete the dare you had to shave a design into your body. Hence the eyebrow slits another souvenir, tiger stripes down the leg. We exchange our travel stories as the excitement courses through our veins (looks like we'll have to extend the trip, Laos and Vietnam?). We exit the bus and head towards our speedboat. <br />
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We get to the island and head for the hotel. We've got a long night ahead of us... On our way to the hotel we run into a friend of my sisters (Brendan) who demands we attend a paint party at his hotel tonight then all head down to the beach. Sounds appropriate...we're in! We throw our things in the room and head for the pool. We grab a Thai bucket and a pizza and post up by the pool. A DJ is set up by the pool and we've got some lively Aussies to entertain ourselves before the night begins. <br />
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We rendezvous with Brendan and head for the party...time to get our Picasso on. A couple hours later Brendan drags us out of the bar...it's midnight already? Jeez. Off we go...months of planning and our big night has finally arrived! <br />
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We get onto the main road and jump into the throng of people (picture a MASS exodus). We link up and swim through crowd each screaming to one another, " don't leave me I don't have a phone!?" Then we hit sand, we've made it! And it is quite a sight pure mayhem, but it is beautiful. The beach is lined with bars, stages, painting booths, flaming objects and 10,000 people. <br />
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We jump from stage to stage all night (literally). Just when you think you need a break you hear a familiar song and run to the next stage completely energized. Why stop? This is one of the top 10 parties in the world...you need to savor every minute (But if you need a break, you nap in the sand). It couldn't have been more ideal. <br />
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As the night continued the mischief progressed. More and more fire toys began to appear, first signs, then hula hoops and finally the infamous jump rope. Now all travel blogs warn you not to jump in the rope "even if you are an expert jumper the drunk that joins you is not." Not into fire? Try the giant waterside it is probably almost as unsafe but completely worth it. <br />
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And don't bother asking people for the time, from midnight-when the sun comes up everyone told me it was 1:30...<br />
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Just when we were about to call it a night we spot more friends. And just like that all exhaustion banished. We head down to our favorite stage just as a Red Hot Chili Peppers mash-up begins and just like that the party starts again. We make our way to the stage to escape from the crowds (only so many people can fit up there). I start my two step and notice the girl next to me is wearing tights...well that's odd. My peripheral peek turns into a stare as I realize a congregation of lady boys (transvestites...sort of) has assembled next to me. Soooo...sick? This is my first encounter with a lady boy and hopefully my last...thank goodness I'm a girl...would have been a different story if Baby Steve was here! Again I digress...back to the party. <br />
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It was some odd hour of the morning but the party was still going. No one knew what time it was and no one really cared (the more time I spend in South East Asia the more I don't worry about things like time what's important is the present and living in the moment. Time stands still so you can enjoy the moment and that's exactly what I plan to do). The music suddenly changes pace and a small Asian man begins to MC what appears to be another morning rally cry is actually the end of the party. Times...how can it be over! We just got here...and then it hit us. The sun has come out...not just risen...it is out. What now? We fall into line and head towards the town. Just as we are crossing the pool we see the hotel staff setting up breakfast (it's 7:30)...after 8 hours of dancing nothing has ever looked this good. We scarf down our food and groggily head off to bed. <br />
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Three hours later we wake up to a pounding on the door...it's Brendan...he has managed to lose his shirt, shoes, hat and friends...but what a night.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Ko Pha Ngan, Ko Pha-ngan, Surat Thani, Thailand9.7318753 100.01359299.6066743 99.855664400000009 9.857076300000001 100.1715214tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-49460494577634947062012-07-03T07:35:00.001-07:002012-07-18T17:21:58.112-07:00Oh my God, oh my BuddahAs we settle into our seats we hear the stewardess over the intercom. What we thought to be a typical "welcome" spiel turned into a warning.
"Please excuse the delay, there is a typhoon warning in Hong Kong."
Immediately a sinking feeling in my stomach begins to take hold of me. And then the voice comes across the intercom, "flight attendants prepare for take off". Wait...time out. I quickly grab an attendant...I'm sorry maybe I misunderstood I thought you just said we had a typhoon warning? Oh we fine, there always typhoon in Hong Kong. Oh well as long as its a normal occurrence?
After 20+hours of flying I find myself in beautiful Thighland (for those of you who are not literate in obnoxious cinematic quotes I am in Thailand). LAX> Hong Kong> Bangkok (pick up Shelby and Victoria) > Chiang Mai. Upon arriving we quickly retrieve our bags and scuttled out of the airport.<br />
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Thankfully our hotel had an airport transportation shuttle, God bless FSR. <span style="background-color: white;">Trying to function after that travel day would have been impossible.
Entering our hotel is like entering Buddha's secret garden. The FSR never fails, authentic Thai buildings surrounding a rice field. As we enter the open air lobby we are all awe struck by the beautiful architecture and landscape. We quickly settle into our bungalows and head into town. We have three nights in Chiang Mai and we cannot waste a second. We hop in a shuttle and head straight to the Tiger Kingdom. Due to all the animal rights groups and general US safety laws this tiger experience would not have been made possible back home...cheers to third world countries? Our tiger trek began with cuddling baby tigers (basically the cutest beings you will ever encounter) it ended with jumping in a grown up tiger cage. This encounter was exhilarating and terrifying, we were the LAST group to enter before dinner time.</span><span style="background-color: white;">Things I have learned from the Tiger Kingdom obviously tigers hate cinnamon (more Hangover quotes) but they also dislike camera flashes (...upon switching my camera settings my flash turned on my life flashed before my eyes...) a tiger encounter whether wild or captive is never a comfortable experience especially surrounded by little Asian men telling you to cuddle with the tiger. We each lined up to take our pictures then attempted to hustle out of the pen, but no the little Asian men claimed we had not had our "full tiger experience" and we are then wrangled to the pool area where we proceeded to watch the hungry tigers "play." I don't think we could have run out of that cage faster. Although a phenomenal experience (to look back on) I would advice to not visit right before dinner time... </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"> The next day was spent in search of temples and waterfall hikes. The temple was nestled in the jungle at the highest point in Thailand. The images were exquisite, the Buddhists know how to decorate a temple. You enter the jungle temple by way of a golden dragon stairwell, the grounds are filled with shrine upon shrine of golden statues and colorful friezes; the entire temple is littered with beautiful flowers and glowing candles it's quite a sight. Our driver then took us to a Thai restaurant a top a waterfall...ya it was awesome. We spent the rest of the day lounging lakeside and the night jumping around Chiang Mai. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">The best part of traveling is meeting new people, everyone is 1) interesting 2) you get to exchange your travel stories and 3) we talk about the anticipation of the mayhem that is the full moon party...because everyone is going.
The next morning Vic and I wake and groggily head to our morning yoga class. The only reason this class was even remotely on our morning radar was because the class was held on a dock waterside. After an exhilarating class we ran back to our room...we were already running late for our excursion. Today's adventure consisted of elephant rides and bamboo drifts...yes it was as spectacular as you are currently imagining. We entered the elephant grounds by way of a rickety old bridge with a sign that read, "warning do not exceed over 10 minutes on the bridge." </span><br />
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Yet another captivating casual Asian warning...the day began by feeding the elephants. Having the elephants snatch bananas from your hand with their trunks never gets old (I could have done this all day). Next on the agenda was a show, we watched the elephants do little tricks for a bit but the most exciting part was watching a baby elephant paint a picture. They are such magnificent creatures it was quite the spectacle. After the show we hopped on the elephants for a jungle ride to a village then onto a homemade Thai lunch. After lunch we were shuttled down the river on bamboo rafts. Sooo tribal. We spent the rest of the evening poolside then retired early...tomorrow was a big day, off to Koh Phangan for the Full Moon Party.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Chiang Mai, Thailand18.7964642 98.660058616.872773199999997 96.1332031 20.7201552 101.1869141tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-69876207056083746662012-04-13T13:52:00.001-07:002012-04-13T13:52:15.007-07:00Start Swooning...Disclaimer: Words cannot properly describe the beauty that is Turks and Caicos. The colors, the sights, the sounds, the (sea)food, and the rum.<br />
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Who: The Ito's (+ Ada)<br />
What: Traversing the globe<br />
When: Annual Easter Vaca (Mexico kinda unavailable)<br />
Where: The Gansevoort Hotel, Turks and Caicos<br />
Why: It's tradition<br />
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It seems as if, every time I travel, it is becoming more difficult to coax myself to return to the United States (if only being on a perpetual vacation was a reality...I have not given up hope yet...I am still young). Every time I have visited the Caribbean I am hypnotized by its beauty and frankly wouldn't mind finding my own Captain Jack Sparrow and relocating to this Utopian archipelago. One day...<br />
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Ahh where to begin, when packing for a tropical island getaway it is completely unnecessary to bring a large suitcase (I had a carry on)...because <u><b>clothing is optional</b></u>. Necessities: swimsuits (yes, you need multiple), sandals (but barefoot works just as well), workout clothes (you're in a swimsuit...I feel as if this is self explanatory), cover up, floppy hat, over-sized sunglasses, book(s), dinner gear, wedges, sunscreen, and minimal make-up (don't look like a Jersey Shore cast member).<br />
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We arrived to the hotel late Tuesday night, as we groggily approached the lobby Steve and I were stopped in our tracks...dimly lit by the pale moonlight the outline of the the beach came into view. Even at this late hour you could see the rich, iridescent turquoise illuminating the coast. We immediately took off towards the beach abandoning our possessions in the lobby...safe with Ada right? We collapsed on the beach beds silently taking in the scenery and admiring what a wonderful vaca planner Susan is, this place was unreal.<br />
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The mornings were reserved for for beach yoga, followed by brunch. The nights were spent hopping to fabulous restaurants around the area, each offering a splendid assortment of seafood and festive cocktails. Not quite used to 40+ hour work weeks, and missing my lax socal lifestyle and the comfort of my family this getaway could not have come at a better time.<br />
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This week instead of my writing be the focus, I'll let the photos illustrate our trip, a picture is worth 1,000 words, right?<br />
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Wednesday: There is nothing like island hopping on Jet skis in 70 degree, crystal clear waters.<br />
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Thursday: Relaxing on the beach beds, sailing along the coast sipping drunken lobsters and reading Hunger Games.<br />
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Friday: We spent the morning on an excursion. Snorkling along the reef, conk diving, hunting iguanas and enjoying the legendary Caribbean Rum punch. After a great day of playing pirates we retreated to the hotel for a "well deserved" spa day.<br />
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Saturday: Another early morning on the sea, Sue and I spent the day scuba diving off the coast (my first dive since I was certified last April). Spectacles: reef sharks, sea turtles, a dolphin, and lion fish.<br />
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Sunday: Easter Sunday, sadly my dad, brother and grandmother had to leave early in the morning. We spent the day relaxing and celebrating God's greatest gift and enjoying each other's company.<br />
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Monday: return to dreary DC...California bound in 2 weeks!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Turks and Caicos Islands21.694025 -71.79792821.221907 -72.429642 22.166142999999998 -71.166214tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-376917016612609722012-03-30T14:59:00.001-07:002012-03-30T14:59:58.121-07:00Hey Y'all, I'm Going Out With My Boots OnThursday, March 22, I made the brilliant decision to attend the Hunger Games midnight premiere. I might not have finished the book, however, the allure of patiently waiting in a sardine can with anxious teenagers for a midnight showing even though I will be arriving at work hours later is always a gambit for me. As obnoxious and cliche as it sounds, no matter how crowded the venue (I hate people) or exhausted I may be the next day, it is always worth it in the end. And this was no different, although I started the book months ago, I have yet to finish it...looks like I might have more motivation now. I adored the movie, such an adrenaline rush. And my sleep deprivation was no match for a swig of 5 hour power, yes I am essentially drinking poison, but, "you only live once" seems to be my mantra/accessory for this season. Some girls like to sport a new bag everyday, I prefer the zombie look. Classic.<br />
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Friday after work I headed home to grab my suitcase, I was off to Nashville, Tennessee, the home of Country Music. New York last weekend, Tennessee this weekend, I wonder why I am so sleep deprived. This weekend I was making the trip to meet up with some family. I was met at the airport by Justin, and we headed for their home. I had yet to visit them in Kentucky and this appeared to be my last chance to make a trip down south before their move! As we crept up to the house we tip-toed into the dark house, and just as I set my bags down I am tackled by a large black mass, Brucey, a 6 month old pit bull. I immediately drop to the floor to play with my new friend, one of the difficult parts about living over here is being away from my puppies. I have missed my K9 companions...<br />
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Saturday after a hearty breakfast we pack up the "RV" and head back into Nashville. The first stop, the Gaylord Opry Hotel (The South's version of Disneyland I have been informed). We settled into the hotel and made our way to the "Dreamworks Experience," (my cousin has a 2 year old) this interactive "experience" was a "friendly" competition for kids and parents to do together. Being an obnoxiously competitive family, we began strategizingn (immediately), "well Gabe is 2 so he wont be able to compete," as we began delegating games to each individual we realized how truly pathetic we were acting. Don't get me wrong, winning was still our goal, but I was not going to push a toddle down in order to attain that goal. Around 9, the babysitter arrived, we snuck out of the experience just as the dance party began, darn. We had our own dance party to attend. We "quickly" got ready and headed to Downtown Nashville for a night of live music and dancing. The sights and sounds of the historic Downtown were intoxicating, cowboys and cowgirls paraded around the strip, jumping from bar to bar, soulful country ballads wafted out the open doors. Our first bar, the Dueling Pianos (Justin's suggestion), upon entering I was extremely skeptical, all I saw was a smokey patio, I tried to mask my disappointment, but I essentially speak in facial expressions...Justin quickly corralled us to the back of the bar. As we meshed into the crowd we saw what was drawing in the audience, on stage were two pianists playing popular music and hurling one liners back and forth (now that's my style). Hilarious, to say the least. Just as we began to settle down we were scuttled out to our next bar, again I questioned Justin's taste, gross, dive bar. But wait, that band, is, awesome. Jack and I rushed to the dance floor to kick up our boots to some good 'ole country music. If you love live (COUNTRY) music, Nashville is the place to go. We spent the remainder of the night jumping from bar to bar, and every band we saw was brilliant. I could live there, (who am I kidding...visit) phenomenal music, great food, and adorable cowboys (or cute Vandi students... your preference) I'm not sure you could want anything else in a city! It.Was.Spectacular. Nashville is a definite must see, I can safely add it to my list of favorite places.<br />
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Sunday, obviously a day of rest, and we honorable respected it. Tragically we did not make it to church, however we did enjoy some much needed R&R. As we reflected on the night we realized we had lost David. Geez. Well technically we were all aware of it but when it turned noon and we still had not heard from him so we decided to give him a jingle. David had decided to stick Downtown with our friends for a little longer and got suckered into staying at someone's mom's house...excellent. Poor child's phone died and had been waiting around all morning for a ride back to the hotel. After he had made it back safe and sound we decided to make our way out to a little brunch. Generally I am pretty morally opposed to all you can eat brunches, generally due to my horrendous sweet tooth...oops. But it was grrrreat. We sat around the table reflecting upon the night, mostly laughing at Justin's facial expressions. Girls, if you want to go out and do not want to get harassed by creepers, I suggest going with a 6'3'' army man. If I had only taken a photo...words can't describe the death stare that emitted from his face, greatness. Centennial Park was our next destination, day naps (food comas) in the sun, one of my favorite past times and a great way to end a fabulous trip!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com1Nashville, TN, USA36.1658899 -86.784443235.9607904 -87.100300199999992 36.370989400000006 -86.4685862tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-47188152954944479412012-03-22T12:36:00.000-07:002012-03-22T12:36:03.809-07:00I Just Want to Dance and EatThe only way to truly experience exceptional night life in a fabulous city is 1) girls only 2) you need a promoter(s)<br />
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Living on the East Coast, traveling between states is so accessible it would be a shame not to, hence we decided a New York City trip was in order. Mala, Isa and I had been to New York before but Jasmine had not, we instantly began compiling a list of our favorite places and spaces in the Concrete Jungle, but to our dismay Jasmine would have none of it.<br />
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"I just want to dance and eat."<br />
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Easy enough...<br />
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We boarded our bus on a Thursday night and began our trek up to New York. We got into the city around 10 pm, dropped our bags at The Plaza and not wanting to waste any time decided to start our vacation. We "quickly" got ready and headed to the Meatpacking District, Le Bain at the Standard seemed appropriate enough. We casually bypassed the line to flirt our way into the club, but instead of finding a bored meat-head doorman we run into an anorexic witchy woman. Tragic. "If you aren't on the list you aren't getting in." Rude. Unfortunately "But we're from LA" does not have the same influence in NYC...go figure. Jasmine being the more vocal in the group was not going to give up that easily, after a couple minutes of scheming and spinning we realized our efforts were futile and we should try out another. Dejectedly we headed down another street, Mala and I intersected a hipster on our walk and he pointed us in the direction of a club on the street. "Tell them you are with Raul and Fiasco Magazine." We waltzed past the line and headed into the club, Kiss and Fly. Now this was more like it. After a night of mingling and dancing we headed back to the apartment giddy with our dumb luck.<br />
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Friday we woke up had breakfast and headed to Fifth Ave for a little shopping. As dusk began to set in we made our way back to the apartment. We had a long night ahead of us and we wanted to rest up. Tonight we had plans to meet up with some of Isa's friends from Venezuela, back to the Standard. This time we were on "the list," it was ok...the best part about it was the look on the doorwoman's face as we pranced past her and up to the elevator. Sorry doorwoman, we do what we want. We made a couple of friends at Kiss n Fly the night before and decided to jump around until we found a club worthy of our presence. After three duds we wandered into Griffin, the entire centerpiece was a three tiered pink chandelier and we had a table. Boom. After dancing the night away with our new Venezuelan friends we headed to Leo's apartment for a little after hours merengue and pizza.<br />
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Saturday, we decided to introduce Jasmine to Serendipity, who doesn't love a frozen hot chocolate in the morning? As we made our way out of the lobby we were instantly shocked to see the streets filled with people, we had completely forgotten about the St. Patrick's Day Parade! Well that plan was scratched, unless we crowd surfed across Fifth Ave. we were not making it to brunch. We grabbed obnoxious St. Patty's paraphernalia and headed to Sarabeth's for some food and green mimosas...we just had to properly celebrate the holiday. We then followed the masses to Times Square. Waves of people stormed the streets, it was a sight to see. After popping in and out of a couple Irish pubs we found a suitable place, a pack of attractive, noncreepy men (that were good dancers...key) and a man in a giant Gumby suit, it really couldn't get more ideal. We spent the afternoon dancing and decided to call it at 6. We made our way through the crowds and all four of us instantly passed out as soon as we got home. Around 9 we woke up, shoot we had dinner at Tao in 30 minutes! Could we do it, was it worth it? Duh...we scrambled to look presentable and hopped in a cab, it was .5 miles away but that seems like a marathon in 5 inch heals. After a fabulous dinner we made our way to SOHO, tonight's venue W.I.P (Work in Progress), an Andy Warhol themed club. This was my favorite, SuperTrendy, good music, <u>beautiful artsy men</u> and another table.<br />
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Sunday our departure was at 5:30, but when you wake up at noon and pack you really have no time for activities...but we still had a few things up our sleeve. We sat down for an ummmazing cappuccino, grabbed some gyros and headed to Central Park for some ice skating. It was a lovely afternoon and we were all deeply depressed as we made our way back to the District. Au revoir mi amore, we shall be back.<br />
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The only thing I can complain about was that there aren't enough hours in a day. There is always something fabulous happening and there simply isn't enough time to do it, but at least we tried. <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0New York, NY, USA40.7143528 -74.005973140.5217853 -74.3218301 40.9069203 -73.690116100000012tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-91734551274771490152012-03-22T08:43:00.000-07:002012-03-22T08:49:32.740-07:00PANCAN<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the reasons I love my job is because I am able to witness some of the amazing things that go on in DC. It has become a rarity that we see a bipartisan consensus in Congress, its kind of like a unicorn these days. I knew that today I was scheduled to attend a hearing from 10-12:30, have a quick lunch date with a friend, then attend a briefing from 1:30-2:30. Neglecting to check the topics I wasn't entirely sure what I was in for. I will not bore you with the hearing...because it was boring; additionally I was multitasking and planning my Stagecoach trip...oops. After my lovely lunch I scurried off to the briefing, Pancreatic Cancer. Interesting, I really have no background on it so I was instantly interested. I knew that this disease had recently taken the life's of Steve Jobs and Patrick Swayze, but by no means was I well versed on this fatal disease. From the moment the briefing began I was captivated. The President and CEO of the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network welcomed us then introduced the cosponsoring Representatives Lance and Eshoo. Although they were different in every way, each representing different coasts and political backgrounds they were united together under one cause. A very important cause, that truly deserves more attention especially as it is becoming more prevalent in today's society. It is the fourth leading cause of cancer deaths in the U.S and this year it is estimated that 44,000 Americans will be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and over 37,000 will die. Today, in the twenty-first century little is known about the risk factor and there are no early detection methods. That is terrifying.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Next to speak was Dr. George Fisher from Stanford University (he is the doctor that worked with Patrick Swayze). He spoke more on the medical and research aspect of the disease. <span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> There are a few types of pancreatic cancer but the most common
is adenocarcinoma, accounting for 95% of those diagnosed. Fisher stated that
realistically we cannot make more progress unless we develop better treatments
and to do so we need to devote more resources to research. Only 2% of the $5
billion annual budget goes to research. There have been developments in other
cancer research and pancreatic cancer has “borrowed” those developments but in
order to make significant progress we need to develop a focused strategy. It is
important to look at the molecular features then identify vulnerabilities. Although this fight looks ambiguously bleak now, it was comforting to know that someone so passionate and brilliant was working to find a cure.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The final speaker was a woman by the name of Eva Noesen, she gave her </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">personal</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> account of her experience with pancreatic cancer. This past January she had lost her husband to pancreatic cancer, he was 30. As she told her story she showed pictures of her husband's body slowly deteriorating </span>with<span style="font-family: inherit;"> the illness. As I watched this young woman speak about how she lost the love of her life at such a young age I was overcome by emotion. Just looking into her eyes you could see how broken she was, but she was not giving up. She spoke today to garner support for an upcoming bill, H.R.377. Because of the love she bore for her husband she wanted to make a change, she didn't want others to have to experience this same </span>debilitating<span style="font-family: inherit;"> loss. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Nothing is more beautiful than a bared, transparent soul.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">H.R.733</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.pancan.org/">http://www.pancan.org/</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-11692005923352264642012-03-05T16:15:00.000-08:002012-03-05T22:32:02.047-08:00Can't You Be Believing NowWell it is Monday and I have (almost) finally caught my breath from the last 2 weeks, geesh. Lets see what have I done? Last, last Wednesday we went to a restaurant opening, Fujimar. It was great, the restaurant/lounge/night club is 3 stories. It has a very European feel, and I loved the decor (if you haven't noticed this is a trend, I really appreciate an avant-garde composition). Mala and I pranced around from room to room in search of the sushi display, to our chagrin we were too late for the appetizers and opted to sit in the restaurant for a little taste test. We were soon joined by Jasmine, Gabe, Mary, Ana and Emily as they too wanted to explore our new playground. Our table was positioned quite near the DJ booth and our casual sushi experience soon turned into a dance party.<br />
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Friday, Isabella invited us to a Venezuelan fundraiser at Eden, how could we say no. Eden is a fun change up because it always seems (or at least on the floor we frequent) to be playing Latin music. My favorite part about Eden, watching the couple's salsa dance. It is such a beautiful dance, the partners interwoven in a rhythmic melody, so romantic. As Gabe so eloquently pointed out, "I need to learn how to salsa, everyone looks good. Even those ugly kids." And its true, its an aesthetically pleasing sport, even for those who are not? Isabella has promised to teach us (and Mala has promised to teach us to belly dance), I guess we'll see how truly uncoordinated I really am...<br />
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Saturday, was a bit hectic. We started the morning off planning a paint party. That was then canceled. Then we decided to go to U St. Then we decided to not make plans because lets be honest, they are unnecessary? Our one stationary plan was dinner, Jas, Isa and I joined Mary and Andrew at Ping Pong for dinner. We pass it every time we go into DuPont and so we figured we'd give it a try. Dim Sum and cocktails, interesting mix but I liked it. As always it was more of a tapas restaurant which I really do love, because I can NEVER decide on just one dish, this way I get to try many. After dinner, instead of heading to a bar like normal 20 something year olds, we found our way to Pinkberry. And just as we sat down, Jas received an interesting text from Chole, "We're downstairs." You're what, under Pinkberry? What does that even mean? Apparently we hadn't informed the whole party that our paint party was CANCELED. We quickly scarfed down our delicious frozen yogurt and made our way back to the house. What was almost a catastrophe turned into quite the event. We sprawled out on crate paper and began sloshing colors together hoping shades would become shapes and forms would turn into figures. Late into the morning when the delirium began to set in we wrapped up our projects and trudged back to our rooms masterpieces in hand.<br />
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Blah blah blah...and we fast forward to the following week.<br />
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Monday I attended a Congressional meeting with a partner and a client...its casual.<br />
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Tuesday, I attend a hearing on the Hill.<br />
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Wednesday night I received a text from Madeline Fahan (Vlade), she would be playing a game at American University on Thursday. After missing her first two games in the city due to scheduling conflicts, I was determined NOT to miss another. As I rushed home in the cold, I knew that only one thing could help to compensate for my lack of attendance at her previous games, Georgetown Cupcakes. After placing a small order I would pick them up the following evening before the game. Got to love take out orders.<br />
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Thursday, not wanting to make the trek out to AU alone I enlisted the help of my friend Jasmine (I bribed her with a cupcake). After picking up my cupcakes we made our way to the game, it was so fun watching Mads play, I haven't seen her play in years and it made me a bit nostalgic for my high school glory days.<br />
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Friday, of course as I was getting ready to leave work it starts to POUR. I quickly hitch a ride with a co-worker to the Pour House (how fitting, I know) where I met up with some friends. After explaining to everyone, that I am not able to drink because I gave it up for lent...I know, I know, I'm odd, everything around here revolves around happy hour...blah blah blah. After the Pour House we made our way to Mary and Nicole's apartment for a little house warming party. Mary, a true host, shuffled around the party making sure to say hello to everyone, while making appetizers and playing DJ, it was exhausting to watch! Quite the memorable night but it was not over as Mala and I made our way back to the house the girls wanted to go dancing, excellent because it was already midnight and still raining. Why not? We quickly changed and decided to head to Eden. As we were walking out the door our security guard gives us the look, yes yes I know its raining and we are wearing heels and we aren't wearing jackets...it will be fine. As soon as we left the overhang we began to sprint! By the time we had ran the 5 blocks to Eden not only were we out of breath but we looked like wet dogs. The bouncers gave us the same bewildered look as the security guard, Jasmine waltzes up to them tells them that they will not only let us in but that we are not paying. Somehow this always seems to work...and tonight (surprisingly) was no different...go figure.<br />
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Saturday, Mala and I had a field trip to Mount Vernon bright and early. It was a lovely day for a drive and the grounds and museum were so interesting. If you haven't been and are in the area it is definitely a must see. After we were dropped off at the house there was no time to rest, we were late already. We were to join Isa, Jas and Andres on a indoor rock climbing excursion in Maryland. We quickly changed and hopped on the metro, as we entered the expansive gym we geared up and met our group for our first climb. Everyone being pretty competitive collectively decided to bypass the beginner levels and began scaling more intermediate walls. Needless to say after 3 walls none of us could feel our forearms. After a couple hours we headed back to the house where we immediately passed out.<br />
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Sunday, we were all pretty useless. Around 3 in the afternoon we managed to go on a short run, but that was short lived because I had a dinner in Baltimore. I quickly managed to put myself together and made my way to Union Station, and just as I was exiting the metro, one of my diamond earring fell out of my dangly earring and onto my jacket sleeve. I immediately panic and can only imagine the trail of jewelry I have scattered around DC...I call Mala and she checks the contents of my jewelry box, all is accounted for, phew. I meet the Isaacs at their hotel and we make our way to the restaurant for drinks before dinner. It was wonderful catching up with the family, I haven't seen them since we returned from Kenya in August!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-90680910901813692042012-02-22T10:53:00.000-08:002012-02-22T10:53:15.145-08:00RitzyLast week was quite the week...Valentine's Day, couch surfing (ish), slumber parties, and playing tour guide. I know, quite the impressive list lets begin on Tuesday, the day of looove.<br />
<br />
<b>Tuesday:</b><br />
Now some people hate Valentine's Day, and being a self declared cynic I should probably fall into this category. BUT, how could I possibly despise a holiday that basically promotes unnecessary present giving, flower deliveries and chocolate binging. It's kind of wonderful, and lets just say I was pretty spoiled this year. The classic romantic evening was actually a Girl's Night (to no one's surprise I am sure), after work I scurried over to Mary and Nicole's apartment for a delectable home cooked meal. Mary is a phenomenal chef, on tonight's menu: Potato Leek Soup, Ratatouille (the Disney recipe), salmon pinwheels, and a homemade chocolate cake (I tried to add a little synthetic diversity by bringing Georgetown Cupcakes...a crowd favorite obviously). After dinner we slowly slipped into a food coma as the comedic sounds of Party Down rocked us to sleep. A relaxed, non-cliche way to spend the day, no complaints here.<br />
<br />
<b>Wednesday:</b><br />
Now aside from being a great chef Mary also has a knack for finding restaurants. And because I have almost been in DC for a month, I was obviously going through Mexican food withdraws. The selection of the evening: Oyamel. A traditional Mexican restaurant, not quite TexMex or my SoCal digs...but delicious nonetheless.<br />
(I have attached Mary's blog so you can view her restaurant critique <a href="http://littlechefmary.wordpress.com/2012/02/16/lo-mejor-de-dc/" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">http://littlech<wbr></wbr>efmary.wordpres<wbr></wbr>s.com/2012/02/1<wbr></wbr>6/lo-mejor-de-d<wbr></wbr>c/</a>)<br />
<br />
<b>Thursday:</b><br />
Bible study in Annapolis, we are currently doing a Beth Moore bible study on the book of James...kind of obsessed.<br />
<br />
<b>Friday:</b><br />
So not only am I having withdraws for some Southern California grub, but I am also missing my friends (even though someone has visited me at least once a week, that's irrelevant). This week's visitor, none other than my best Miss Kylie Rose Hughes. It was her first time in the city, in 4.5 days I had to show her why it is that I have fallen in love with this city. After work I packed up my desk and headed home for the long weekend (and by that I mean the Ritz Carlton in Georgetown, our home away from home for the weekend). I can only imagine our poor neighbors faces as they heard the excited squeals through the walls, reunions are always exciting especially ours? After the formalities we headed to Georgetown for dinner at one of my favorite spots, Bodega. After dinner we walked the streets and found ourselves in line at Georgetown Cupcakes, you can't visit DC without a taste test of Georgetown, Sprinkles and Baked and Wired.<br />
<br />
<b>Saturday:</b><br />
After our failed attempt to join a segway tour we decided to walk around the monuments. 7.2 miles later we successfully viewed all of the monuments, the white house and managed to stop at my favorite tea houses (I am aware how Asian that sounds), Teaism. When we finally returned to the hotel we collapsed on the beds, it was a productively exhausting morning and now it was time for a well deserved nap! After waking up we got ready and headed to Cava Mezze to meet Nicole, for some Greek cuisine. Still tired from the day's activities we decided to call it a night, as we entered the hotel to head up to our room, we heard the faint sounds of Usher echoing through the corridors. We followed the music and stumbled upon a party, "interested in party crashing?" As we descended down the spiral staircase we saw a brightly colored table decorated with Kanye stunna shades, our ticket in, score! We each snatched a pair and assumed the identities of Mico and Shirley. First stop dessert table.<br />
<br />
<b>Sunday: </b><br />
To be truly local, you need to experience brunch. We headed back to Georgetown for brunch at Kafe Leopolds (but on the way Sprinkle's released its word of the day so we stopped by for a free cupcake). After brunch we glided along Georgetown, bouncing around between all of our favorite stores. We had to add on one historic sight to the day so after shopping we made our way the the Mall, to see the National Portrait Gallery. This museum is one of my favorite places in the city and I knew Kylie would appreciate it. As always we were running late and after the NPG we headed back to our hotel for a quick freshen up before dinner. Tonight's destination Oya, a delectable Asian fusion restaurant downtown. A few sushi rolls later we rolled down to the W's P.O.V., for drinks at one of the best views in the city.<br />
<br />
<b>Monday:</b><br />
Our last full day. We had planned on being particularly active that morning, spinning, brunch at Four Seasons then onto the Mall for some more sightseeing. Well, our 7:30 am wake up call turned into 10 am, we had missed spinning and brunch, oh well breakfast in bed it is! After a relaxing lazy morning we jumped on the metro towards Capitol Hill. I took Ky along my commute route, showed her my lovely Townhouse then we made our way to the Capitol, the Supreme Court and the Library of Congress. Then onto the Smithsonian. Our mission: the First Ladies Inaugural Ball Gown exhibit. And yes, it is as magnificent as it sounds. We saw the gowns, the jewelry, the shoes and the china patterns (Nancy Reagan you have my heart and my style). We also saw Dorthy's ruby red slippers, the original catwoman suit and Michael Jackson's hat...the Mall really has something for everyone. After we decided to walk home, one because it was a nice day two because I had dangled Caribou Coffee in front of Kylie all weekend and she needed to experience it! The Golden Triangle is a great place to live, the only downside, after the work day everything closes so it is difficult to find an open coffee shop besides Starbucks. We finally found a Caribou and we enjoyed a Pomegranate Tea Latte (...you'll have to ask her if it was worth all the hype). When we finally made it to the hotel we took a quick power nap then got ready for dinner, we were meeting my Aunt Debbie for dinner at Oyamel (yes I went twice in one week).<br />
<br />
<b>Tuesday:</b><br />
It was Kylie's last day in DC, and what better way to spend the morning than in an Oral Argument at the Supreme Court (ya, I have sweet hook ups). We met Zarmala in front of the Court and bypassed the long lines of people waiting to get into the Argument. We snuck around to the side entrance and made our way to the Marshall's Office, as I entered the Court I instantly went into tour guide mode, spouting off the monologue I used when I interned at the Court. It was wonderful being back, inside these white marbled walls I was first inspired to pursue a career in law. It was nice to be back, and to see some old friends. After the Argument we were famished we set out to Sweet Greens for a salad then said our good byes, I went to work, Zarmala went to bed and Kylie to La La Land.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-66183339742738791142012-02-22T07:06:00.000-08:002012-02-22T07:06:54.274-08:00But A Small Sacrifice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lenting Season...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxq-ZET37e485jUtI7xLSgvaExf-bslgouI0tm7p8AiVAbvoRexsosTiAXHC0L1rkMD5XOIp_vzP-PtsoYCYneYEykxPTtnfZjOlqxvP7UnMPOiMOhyphenhyphenLnLur7uUHFnDKOCzSTiXEpuFA/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxq-ZET37e485jUtI7xLSgvaExf-bslgouI0tm7p8AiVAbvoRexsosTiAXHC0L1rkMD5XOIp_vzP-PtsoYCYneYEykxPTtnfZjOlqxvP7UnMPOiMOhyphenhyphenLnLur7uUHFnDKOCzSTiXEpuFA/s320/photo+(1).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="body" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><div class="pbk" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="luna-Ent" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">An</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">annual</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">season</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">fasting</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">and </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">penitence</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">in</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">preparation</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">for</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">Easter,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">beginning</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">on</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">Ash</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Wednesday</span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">and</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">lasting</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">40</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">weekdays</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">to</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">Easter,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">observed</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">by</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Roman</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Catholic, </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Anglican,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">and</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">certain</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">other</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default; position: static;">churches.</span></span></div></div></div><br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Our society has raised us with a certain dependency upon frivolous materials and/or substances, over the next 40 days I will refrain from a few of my favorites. A small sacrifice in comparison, but what can I say...I'm human. </div><div><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-8926038970608400412012-02-13T10:23:00.000-08:002012-02-13T10:23:43.688-08:00Louder Than Silence<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Coming off a phenomenal weekend and crash landing on a sluggish Monday morning is about the equivalent of...head butting a titanium wall. That was an exaggeration but at least now you know how my Monday is starting off...<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Whew, what a weekend. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I'm still getting used to working 40+ hours so Friday night was a lost cause. I met up with some friends on the Hill to grab a drink and a burger (soo American). Then we headed back to my friend’s apartment to watch the Laker game. Nothing really to say about that performance...other than Jeremy Lin...where did you come from? Thank you for showing the world that Asians are capable of athletic (and scholastic…he graduated from Harvard) achievements outside of gymnastics and figure skating. Geesh. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Saturday day I, was pretty much useless. I had a big night ahead of me so my most outstanding achievement consisted of watching the snow fall. Being a Southern California baby, I am still pretty captivated by this phenomenon. I observantly watched the icy crystals dance towards the earth for about an hour, sipping my tea and thanking God for placing me in this spectacular city. I soon drifted into my afternoon nap and woke up in the evening. As darkness approached I began to get ready for the night. On tonight’s agenda I had a late dinner and a night of dancing, a perfect girl’s night. We had dinner at Oya, a beautiful Asian fusion restaurant. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Mala and I have a habit of ogling over lavish decorations and Oya did not let us down. Words can’t capture the rich embellishments…geostone walls, rose walls, waterfalls, fire walls and of decadent chandeliers. And to our surprise, delicious sushi as well. The East Coast has a lot to offer, but fine sushi is not one of them, sorry. This is the first restaurant that I would recommend, to my mother (let’s just put it this way, she’s picky but then again so am I, like mother like daughter I suppose). After dinner we headed back to our house grabbed an overnight bag and put on our boogie shoes (rain boots). Tonight’s entertainment: Steve Aoki. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">The set began at 2, so we had plenty of time. We casually made our way through the flurries to Eastern Market. My snowy ballerinas had decorated the city; it was a picturesque winter wonderland. We glided through the streets admiring our new surroundings when we realized it was FREEZING. Snow is pretty, when you’re inside next to a fireplace under a blanket. We took off at a sprint towards Mary’s this drastic weather change was a bit much for us. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">After settling in we made our way to the venue…it was, interesting to say the least. Let’s just say the inhabitants mirrored those of “dirty valley people,” ew I know. As we stood in line to enter our jaws dropped as a parade of “low-self esteemed” girls gathered around us. It looked like a combination of the Jersey Shore cast and Halloween in Isla Vista, it is freezing, and you need to wear pants or at least a jacket! It is mind numbing how moronic people can be. </span><span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt;">Mais c'est la vie</span>.<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Aside from our less than stellar cast, the night was magic. Greeeeeat music, Steve was quite the performer. From crowd surfing on an inflatable raft, to throwing whole birthday cakes into the crowd it was a show. But the greatest part of the night, my decision to wear rain boots. Not only was I able to gracefully two-step the club, but my feet were not trampled and I didn’t ruin my shoes in the cake fight. Winner much, I know. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">The next day, we woke up around 11, reminisced on our night and slowly made our way to brunch. Yes sir, brunch. We are soo DC local now. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">And then as if shaken from a dream, it’s Monday. Back to la grind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0Washington, DC, USA38.8951118 -77.036365838.793160300000004 -77.1415488 38.9970633 -76.9311828tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-29394495724280073262012-02-09T08:32:00.000-08:002012-02-09T08:32:12.324-08:00A Calculating FacadeEach day it seems as if I hit the snooze button an extra time. Initially my wake up call rang in about 7 am, after about a week that slowly (quickly) dissolved into 7:30 am. These days I roll out of bed at 7:50, check the emails and reflect upon why it is I wake up at this godforsaken hour to work...oh because I kind of love my job/office. Whatever, I stumbled over to my closet, pick a winner, paint my face, and I'm out the door. Breakfast is for champions is a cliche and for fat people...?<br />
<br />
As I told you last week, one of my favorite pastimes is people watching, on the Metro (for those of you who don't know, the Metro is DC's public transportation, and it's awesome). But anyways, back to me, your Metro experience is dictated upon which line you take, what time of day you are taking it, and obviously if you're taking the bus (it's not sketchy like LA, don't worry). The morning commute is my favorite, serendipitous collisions with the blue and white collared, welcome to the melting pot that is the Metro. Stolen glances, shared smiles, shuffling feet, mysterious neighbors, creepy old men, its the perfect cup of awkward you need to collect yourself and take the "rise and grind" plunge. As we make our way to our destinations our chance encounters intertwine our lives for those 10-20 minute rides. Embrace it.<br />
<br />
Words of advice from a wise sagest:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Buy a smarttrip. </li>
<li>Know how to work your smarttrip, nothing is more irritating than having to wait for the rookie swiper when you're racing the clock to sneak into work <i>on time</i>, this is a "don't be that guy moment." </li>
<li>Bring tunes, this is an opportune moment to bust out those Dr. Dre Beats, because no one else wants to jam with you, so be courteous and keep it to yourself. This is DC, not NYC no one wants to mingle during the morning commute. My current obsession is the "Hipster International" mix I downloaded from spotify, its fabulous the haunting reverberations of those epic beats allow me to drift away into my morning musings.</li>
<li>Bring reading material, if you're sitting. You look silly trying to balance yourself and read Anna Karenina. You are not fooling anyone, nothing is being accomplished.</li>
<li>One of my favorite aspects of this city is dressing up, likeitsmyjob. I love discreetly peaking out from under my bangs to ogle at the daily getups. Everyone looks so put together until you see whats under that peacoat.</li>
<ul><li>Ladies, its winter wear tights. I'm from California and I know this. Midwest people just because it's not negative degrees outside doesn't mean you should bare your pasty white legs, pull it together.</li>
<li>Gentleman, generally in California if you look like you fell out of the Matrix series I would keep my distance. But on the East Coast its pretty normal, put a guy in a long coat, allow him the poor judgement that is his small sunglasses and you are walking in the 1999 scifi thriller...tragically its all to common, surprisingly I'm getting used to it.</li>
</ul></ul>As I depart from my underground traverse and make my way into the sunlight, my cynical 15 minute ride has allowed me to collect myself and my thoughts. Now onto the fun part, lobbying.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com1Washington, DC, USA38.8951118 -77.036365838.793160300000004 -77.1415488 38.9970633 -76.9311828tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-61772074889065824672012-02-02T10:58:00.000-08:002012-02-02T10:58:25.891-08:00Metropolitan MusingsIt is another year and I find myself in yet another place. If there is one thing to know about me, know that I love the thrill of saying goodbye. Nothing truly excites me like the thought of picking up and moving. This year I find myself back in Washington, DC, I first fell in love with this city when I was a sophomore, I spent my spring semester interning and studying in the city. DC is the opposite of Ventura (and Malibu for that matter) in literally all aspects, and I think that's why I like it. I view life as a game of "Shoots and Ladders," in order for progression you need a shift, sometimes you fall down a shoot but that's just apart of the game. How boring would life be without a couple risks, clarity and awareness come when you least expect it. My favorite part about my detachment issue is that I can't make excuses or reasons for staying... <br />
<br />
I have realized that, I hate the thought of a stagnant lifestyle, its arduously terrifying and quite frankly, I'm not into it. I am expectant that my current endeavor will segue into a career path...or at least clarity into what it is I want to do with my life. As I get older, it is becoming more and more evident that a Disney Princess is not a realistic job prospect (...but Kylie, Jaclyn and I still remain hopeful that someone will want to create a reality show about how awesome we are, liiiike no one can "network and hang out" quite like we do). Until then, I am quite content with my current lifestyle, but hopefully (for my dad's sake) I will have an epiphany and get a real job/life...but for now, I am a blessed 20 something year old living in a vibrant, cultural city that never seems to (let me) sleep.<br />
<br />
Let's see I arrived on January 17...I'll give you a sparknotes of my life:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>I am working for a small lobbying firm on The Hill</li>
<li>I have discovered that UGGs are not suitable for East Coast rainy days</li>
<li>"Cupcakes and Cocktails" is by far one of the cutest party themes, ever </li>
<li>It is extremely difficult to stay awake to watch Laker games, but a fans got to do what a fans got to do</li>
<li>I have become a Groupon/Livingsocial addict</li>
<li>I have won the Sprinkles whisper game twice (in one weekend, no shame)</li>
<li>I'm trying to be a Pescaterian (more like give up red meat...we'll see how it goes) </li>
<li>The weather out here is unreal (65 yesterday, I went running in a shorts last night), last time I was out here the weather was constantly below freezing...and you better believe I'm not ok with that</li>
<li>My favorite places in the city are: the Mall (at night), the Portrait Gallery, the Fairmont Spa and Teaism</li>
<li>P.O.V has a killer view, but I could do without 80% of the people...</li>
<li>As cliche as it sounds, "But, we're from LA," really works, go figure. </li>
<li>My favorite places to watch people: dingy sports bars and the metro</li>
<li>I love having people visit me: I'm 3 for 3 in weekends...its like I never left California. </li>
<li>I've got a pretty stellar group of 4 (I meaannn, its pretty exclusive?) everyone is a brunette, tan and a different ethnicity (Persian, Pakistani, Venezuelan and Japanese/Texan)...I am for the first time not the TAB or the odd man out...go figuree</li>
</ul>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-31056502785602844752011-08-18T15:03:00.000-07:002011-08-18T15:03:44.572-07:00Fashionably Late<b>Things I've learned: </b><br />
<br />
Jambo- Hello<br />
Habari sana- How are you.<br />
Ndiyo- yes<br />
Hapana- no<br />
Hatari- Danger<br />
Twende- Let's go!<br />
Asante- Thank you.<br />
Karibu- (Your) Welcome<br />
Kwa heri- Good bye<br />
<br />
A couple tricks I have learned from my travels, if you don't know the language you really only need to know greetings and thank you, our atrocious language skills shall be easily pardoned by a smile and by being American. Other countries already perceive Americans to be arrogant and incompetent, and there is really nothing we can do about it. This reputation has taken years to develop and pretending to know a language will do nothing for you. You might as well relish the moment and as my mother would say, "play dumb." That way the native will most likely be more inclined to help the "dumb American."<br />
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Prior to my trip to France this summer I had heard the most ghastly rumors of the French (specifically Parisian) hospitality. I have absolutely no knowledge of the French language, and this really wasn't an issue for me. For one, the rest of the world speaks English rather well. They begin intensive English courses in primary school, and continue their education into high school and college. And second, I can't recall a time in my month long travel where I had a savage encountered.<br />
<br />
After a successful month in Europe I decided to try these tricks in Kenya. Success. Some people are better at this game than others. Example, Police officers in Kenya are a bit corrupt. You can basically pay to get out of anything, one offense, being white. If you are a white person(/group) in a car you are more than likely to get pulled over and they will find some reason to fine you. Our last day in Nairobi, a traffic cop decided to approach the car when we were at a stop light. JJ asked David (our drive) if he should talk to him, "yes, do not ignore him." As the stern police officer began to approach the car JJ rolled down the window.<br />
<br />
JJ- "Jambo!"<br />
Officer- "Jambo." (maintains stern face)<br />
JJ- "Habari sana?"<br />
Officer- "Asante. Jina lako ni nani?" (still looking quite angry)<br />
JJ- He begins to laugh, "Uhh I don't know that one."<br />
Officer- breaks into laughter and waves us through the traffic.<br />
<br />
We all begin to laugh because no one saw that coming. David is laughing hysterically, we ask him what the officer said. "He asked what his name was."<br />
<br />
Our last days in Kenya were spent in Nairobi shopping for last minute presents and eating well. We had been eating so healthy in Kasigua and Mombassa the only thing to do was indulge. First stop, we all got milkshakes, for dinner, Italian carbo loading (Osteria, one of the best ITalian restaurants I have ever been to), and after dinner we ran to the ice cream shop next door. No shame.<br />
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And twenty-two hours of flying I finally made it back to sunny Southern California.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569260292852482688.post-64507195433855739792011-08-11T04:47:00.000-07:002011-08-11T04:47:55.100-07:00Tide PoolingRasta, our guide from the Star Fish Island talked us into another mini trip, a dive trip in the local tide pools. Thursday was our last day in Mombasa, so what better day to go on a little excursion. Rasta and Ali met us in front of the house and we set out on the little grass path. <div><br />
</div><div>Clad in my bikini and havaianas I followed the pack into the tide pools. We had watched the tides drift in and out all week but I was not aware of how vast and far the tide pools ran, ecosystems emerged all along the coastline. For miles the little shallow beds unveiled the homes of little creatures previously submerged by the rocky waves. As we approached the tide pools Rasta flashed a toothless grin, indicating that we were close. At the water's edge he points to a watery pathway, we had arrived at Monkey Bridge. He warned us to stay on the trail, we obeyed for fear of another altercation with the sea urchins. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Ragged coastlines to the west, a dark blue expanse to east, stormy clouds approaching in the distance from the south. Our path only illuminated by the unsettled sand from Rasta's footsteps. After what felt like an eternity of traversing this watery jungle we made it to our first stop, the "Africa Pool." The first pool resembled the continent of Africa, with a small imprint of madagascar right next to it. The scene from our first pool resembled that of a "Pirates of the Caribbean" set. The pool was filled with kelp forests, sea urchins, tiger fish and lion fish. We explored our new underwater playground for about half an hour then decided to make our way towards our second location. </div><div><br />
</div><div>The next tide pool was a different experience, cave dives filled with bats! This was my first time seeing bats up close so I was really excited. As we dove into the pool we glided into the small cliffside caves. This little ravine looked like a scene from Indiana Jones. As we dove farther into the cave the light began to fade and we could hear little chirps above us. I looked up to see hundreds of bats buzzing above my head. If you have never seen a bat before know this, they are not cute, but they are a spectacular specimen. Little beady eyes, gnarled pig-like faces mesh into a little flying skeleton. We gawked at the fury creatures for a couple more minutes then made our way out of the pools. The tides were rising quickly and it was time for us to go. Rasta escorted me to our little escape route because I had already tumbled on this slippery waterway. We got back to the cottage just as it began to rain. The remainder of our day was spent lounging around the cottage waiting out the rain. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05474155049890082604noreply@blogger.com1