random tidbit no. 1

Today I said "aw nuts!" when I got stuck in the snow. And then I laughed at myself for saying "aw nuts".

I haven't abandoned you yet...

It's obvious that I'm falling back into the same old pattern. Lacking a bit of consistency as with any venture I initiate. So my new year's resolution, which will begin today, is to be more consistent, persistent and master the "follow-through" with posting...and just in general.

I have a great excuse for not posting in a while...all these wonderful holiday festivities. Well, not so much wonderful actually. Christmas at the Salsero house is a bit chaotic....there's a lot of yelling going on between my brother and I and then my mom chimes in with a big latin scolding. We get a lot of arm waving and rolling of the rrrrs. A lot of "puchica" and "que barbaridad!", each of which is loosely translated to "my goodness" and "how barbaric!"...when all we would be doing is arguing about how disgusting my brother is when he eats. I feel like a child everytime I step into my parents place...and I subconsciously start to act like one.

Christmas just didn't seem like Christmas this year. Everyone seems to be on edge lately. Lenny and I spoke over the phone a few times on Christmas Eve (we both spend the night at our respective parents on Christmas Eve...and then have Christmas together on Christmas Day) and every time, someone was yelling in the background. I would ask "who's yelling now?" and he would answer non-chalantly with "my grandpa, dad, brothers, mom and uncle". Maybe it's not that everyone's on edge actually because this is pretty typical at any of our family gatherings. Is the yelling a latin thing? Or is this culturally non-specific? I'm only half-latin but I notice that my dad (the non-latin half of the family) keeps quiet.

Christmas Day was a lot more calm. I always have a great story about male gift giving...or more specifically Lenny's infamous gift buying disability.

So Lenny gave me what he gets me every year. It started like this:

It gets better:

Imagine this card with some cash inside and you'll experience my surprise every year. It never ceases to amaze me. Well, at least the card is always different.

I have to say, it doesn't bother me much because I'm a hard person to buy for. I can even feel the tension building when he asks me "what do you want for Christmas?" So I always say "don't worry about it...whatever". But he does worry because he's gifted some real losers at the beginning of our relationship (tight red mini skirt, gold old lady watch, umbrella, the Swiffer). He agonizes and then on the 24th, he gives up and runs to the ATM...and then to London Drugs to pick up a funny card. It's actually kind of endearing. It really makes Christmas funny. And Christmas isn't usually described as funny...for me at least (see above).

science fair anyone?

Do you remember the fun and excitement of the grade school science fair? I remember it fondly. It was great innocent fun - the brainstorm...the secretiveness of it all...the suspense and giddiness the night before.

I wasn't overly inventive...I never won a ribbon but it was definitely good times. One year, my best friend and I decided to see which battery would last the longest - Duracell or Energizer. Our methods to drain the batteries in our flashlights didn't work out too well and the night before the judging, neither of our batteries had died yet...so we had to fudge the results.

Ahhh...the deception...now that I think back, I think on more than one occasion I made up the results because I left it until the last minute. Sounds like my university career. Maybe that's why I've gone into marketing...BS is my forte?

In other news, check out this cool craigslist-type site: http://www.etsy.com/
I found some great handmade gifts...and supported local artists! Do it, it makes you feel good.
An old friend of mine has some pretty cool quirky stuff for sale:
http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5531135

Wow - I'm turning 30 on Thursday and I didn't even post about it. Well, I guess I just did. And even found an appropriate picture.


Actually this picture isn't at all appropriate...it was just funny for a split second. Almost everyone I know has reassured me that 30 was the best year of their life...and I'm excited about the prospect. Just a little uneasy about leaving the good ol' 20's...it's been by my side for 10 good years. Well, it's not leaving me...that 20 year old with uneasy footing and puzzled faith is still in there somewhere. She's just growing up.

nothing to blog about

I've sat here trying to think of something to write about and kept coming up with nada. So I decided to pull a random quote from whatever random book I picked out of my bookshelf. This is what the universe chose for me to blog about:

"All favorable environments, all facilities for human life tend to make man more sedentary".

Say what? Okay...easy enough. Comfort leads to laziness. Hmmmm. I can roll with this.

How timely as I sit on my couch surrounded by a big ol' favourable environment: my living room, the television at its helm; sweats warming up my skin; popcorn in my mouth; and a laptop at my fingertips. The comforts that are leading to my post-work couch potato tendencies, my lack of social events throughout the week and my expanding waistline. Are these facilities for human life? Not really. Luxuries? Hmmm debatable...more like necessities of my generation (minus the popcorn).

Should these comforts be limited? No, I should be able to self-regulate. I'm not very good at it but I always have that option. I have a few friends that don't have television and they don't seem more nor less productive than me. And everyone eats and everyone computes. Moderation is key.

The author of the above quote did not intend this message for such trivial issues such as getting your butt to the gym...the author being none other than Che Guevara.

In the randomly chosen book, at the randomly chosen page, Che then goes on to talk about guerilla warfare and how common day comforts lead to nomadism for a true revolutionary. Blink...blink.

Yes, I get it, comfort leads to apathy. And Che wants us to know that a true revolutionary feels trapped in comfort. They squirm to release themselves from leisure, always seeking the difficult road.

Conclusion: a true revolutionary I am not. I just want to go to the gym every once in a while and on occasion, overthrow the comfort of my couch...not the government (the opposition is already doing that).

All in all though, I should keep an eye on my apathy level. Don't want it to reach 100% without my realizing it. You never know when you could use some cranked up guerilla spirit. Like when discussing immigration with "ignorant rabid Canadians"*.

* Thanks to you Maria, I now have an excellent way of describing this crew.

the sinful cake

I was so excited to have tea and dessert at my friend Wendy's house tonight. We had planned it since the middle of the week and I was in charge of choosing the dessert. So after grocery shopping yesterday, I stopped by a local bakery...well, a bakery in City Square Mall actually, which doesn't say much. I picked out the cutest "Sinful Chocolate Cake"...and it was heart-shaped which was kind of silly but I just went with it.

I arrived at Wendy's tonight with cake in hand, very proud of my selection. It even had a little santa claus ornament on it.

After eating some appetizers, we opened the cake box and oohed and aahed for a few minutes...then dug right in. I had been thinking about the cake all night and was ready for some sinful deliciousness. Wendy was in awe of the gooey chocolatey taste and I think even said "this is the best cake I've ever had" and I followed that with "do you taste mould?" I kept eating it just to make sure my taste buds weren't fooling me....and I think I devoured a huge chunk of green mould that was sitting in the middle of my piece. Blech. I actually can't even walk down memory lane, it was so disgusting. I really wish I took a picture of the greeney/white fuzz in the middle of cake. It was mad.

Fortunately, Wendy did not get a piece near the mould and dodged that bacterial bullet. I, on the other hand, quickly Googled "eating mould bad" and this is what I found out:

"Mold is bacteria which can be very harmful to your body. It eats at your insides and it never digests. Make sure you use the bathroom or vomit to get it out."

Weirdly enough, that's twice this week that I've ingested mould. Can't be good.

kiwis and other random stuff

I just found out that I can eat kiwis again. I couldn't be happier! I was so happy that I went out and bought a huge bag of them and just polished off 3. I'm feeling a mild allergic reaction but I'm willing to suffer a bit for that green, juicy, seedy goodness!


And did you know that kiwis have a ton of vitamin C? I didn't. Bonus because I think I'm seriously lacking vitamin C or D because my skin has been getting paler and paler. So I'm pumping up the nutrient value in my alimentation over the drab winter months.

In other news, I was at the gym yesterday, watching CNN on the widescreen tv in front of the treadmill, and felt a surge of energy while I watched the newscast on Obama's proposed cabinet. I ran like the Dickens as I watched Hillary and Barack chatting it up on the executive plane. I watched in admiration, in awe and with exhiliration. I don't think you can even dream of a better group of people to lead a country in a period of economic hysteria. Visionaries and humanitarians. That's what this world needs in place of realists who want to tighten their belts and cut the fat. People are the culprits and the victims of the economy. We need leaders who will regulate corporate action, inspire change and nurture heavily impacted citizens.

Obama is an orator, with a love for discussion rather than argument or undemocratic action. He's a true liberal democratic. And this really invigorates me.

From kiwis to Obama...haphazard? No, just two positive developments that are making this day a really good one!

Saturday night at the inlaws

It was Lenny's nephews birthday party on Saturday and I was in cute heaven. It was Jaiden's first birthday and I have to say he is the cutest thing I have ever seen. Everyone says he looks just like Lenny and not so much like his dad:

Awww....I could've stared at him forever but he turned around and lightly bit me!

I was excited when Jaiden's mom, Maria, asked me to look after him before the party. I was charged with looking after him for an hour...only an hour...while Lenny's parents cooked and Maria drove to Burnaby to pick up her sister. Maria knows how uneasy I am with the really wee ones and therefore said to me "don't worry, just make sure he doesn't climb the stairs". And she left me with the task to change him into his white linen suit after 45 minutes (she didn't want him getting it dirty before people started to show up).

Somehow aware of his mom's directions of staying away from the stairs, Jaiden decided to rebel. I was like a video on replay. Chase Jaiden to the stairs, pick him up, drop him off in the living room, chase him to the stairs and so on. I tried holding him but he got antsy and wanted to explore. So I put him on this plastic horse:

But he kept trying to put his finger in the socket to his right. And wow, after looking at this picture, I notice he's surrounded by hazards. Mom material, I am not.

Toys were everwhere, so next, I put him in this mini-atv and ran him up and down the main floor of the house. I was dying of laughter because Jaiden would push this button and you'd hear "meep meep". It was hilarious...but it got annoying after a while so I called Lenny from outside (he was bbqing) and asked him to come in and help me change him. I was warned that he would start crying but we toughed it out...although as soon as he started crying, his grandparents came running from the kitchen to pick him up and didn't let us finish.

The grandparents answer to his tears: blare Portuguese music REALLY loud and dance around with him in your arms - with only one sock on and no shirt. As annoyed as I was, I have to say that Jaiden was in latin heaven. And it was really touching.

And so there ends my hour alone with the cutest kid ever. The rest of the night, I couldn't even get close to Jaiden with all the family crowding him. But I'm sure he cherished our time together like I did :)

uh - sir, you have spit on your lip

Okay, I'm in a wild n' crazy posting mood today. So I thought I would tell a little random story:

At the two-day seminar in Seattle, I sat beside a middle-aged electrical engineer from Surrey. Now this guy was your typical engineer. He looked down when he spoke and rarely made eye contact. He was very vocal though. And didn't stop talking not realizing that I was a little turned off by his rant. He would open the flood gates of negativity in regards to sales and wouldn't stop until I would interrupt and when he wouldn't even acknowledge what I had said, I would find an escape and then turn around and talk to my other seat mate, Maria.

My first conversation with him went like this:

Me: "Oh so you're a fellow Canadian?"

Him: "Yeah"

Me: "I've heard your name before, I must know you...have you ever worked for us?"

Him: "No but I've heard of your firm and I don't have a very good impression of it".

And he went on to tell me why. And as he did, a pool of spit had gathered in the middle of his lip and I thought it was a piece of muffin or something. And I'm usually the person that will tell you if you have something on your face that shouldn't be there. But I kept quiet and thank god I did, because this kept happening throughout the two days. He had some sort of a superfluous saliva problem and it would've been rude of me to bring it up. He actually spat on my arm while talking about how much he hates the US proposal interview system. Thank gawd I was wearing long sleeves.

workin' it in seattle

Sales be dammed. I just spent the last two days in Seattle at a seminar focused on winning my company more work. During which, I asked myself "how did I get here?" How did I get to this point in my career, where I'm running down a path that I had not originally planned?

I started out my teenage years with a desire to be a translator for the UN. With English, Spanish and French as my base languages, I set out to learn Japanase and German. Learning languages was easy for me and I loved it. But after meeting a translator who came to one of my high school "career day" events, it didn't seem as much fun as I had originally thought. She basically told me she makes hardly any money and had to work a second job. But I had high hopes. The UN. So I met with the school guidance counsellor and we attempted to develop a strategy. She was clueless and made me even more so. We didn't even know where to begin. Translator school? huh? what? where? We found one in Alberta but good ol' AB did not appeal to me. So I said, "screw this". I'll just take languages at UBC. I took French and Spanish and wasn't entirely sure, but thought I would get my BA in one or the other.

Then I regained my political self (I was that kid that staged walk outs when World Vision attempted to reel teenagers into the 24 hour famine). Political Science was my new direction. Even though my political passion had died (after realizing that no one really cared), I still had it in me. It fascinated me that I could sit in a class and learn about what was going on in the world politically. So I got my degree and thought, hmmm now what? My new goal: international development. That didn't work out. Then it changed to international law. Got an LSAT score good enough to get into U of Saskatchewan. Nix. Then non-profits.

Working for a non-profit in social development was an achievable goal. I got a job working at Immigrant Services Society of BC and loved it. I felt like I was really doing something to effect change. But after awhile it got stale and I wasn't moving up. My boss even told me this job was just a stepping stone for me. It lasted two years.

I needed to earn more money, so I went to work for a quasi-government agency that paid well but was in no relation to my skills or career path. That lasted for almost 2 years...yikes. And now, after another two years, I find myself in a position that I love but I'm at a place that I never expected to be. Funny how this happens. And interestingly enough, my work life seems to work in two year increments. And if I multiply those two years by ten increments, 20 years will have already passed. So how do I re-focus? And where do I go from here?

I really love what I do at work and love the people I work with. But the problem is I really lack a "specialization" in one thing. I'm a generalist. This could be a result of jumping from one thing to the next...this seems to be a trend in my life. I never stuck with anything long enough to specialize -- piano, organ, guitar, tennis, modern dance, kung-fu, samba, immigration consulting...wow, the list could go on.

So back to the course in Seattle. I was lucky enough to sit beside Maria Jackola from Jackola Engineering in Montana. This girl was a glowing soul. She was lively and warm -- so full of life. She was so real. In those two days, she and I had some really key conversations that related to my career path. Maria was studying graphic design because it was her passion. When she talked about it, her eyes lit up. And she really felt that I should take one or two intro courses in design because based on our discussions, she saw a designer in me.

Now here we go, another complete diversion from my original high-school and then post-university goals, but in a way, I think that if I can incorporate all my skills: languages, writing/editing and design -- I can get myself to that perfect place. Career satisfaction.

And maybe specialization takes years but I'd like to stick to one thing for the next few years. And that one thing is what I'm currently doing. I just don't want to ask myself in the next 20 years - why this? So that's why I'm going through a re-evaluation now. I'm going to take a course in design and see if I like it. And if I do like it, my goal is to go out on my own in the next two years. And I can call myself a specialist - take that HR!

I love daylight savings

It's so fantastic to get an extra hour of sleep. I feel like I accomplished so much today. I even went back to the gym for the first time in a month.

So I woke up this morning planning on going to Hot Yoga. I thought it would be a nice transition back into exercise.*

* There is actually no logic to this...Bikram's is definitely no "nice transition" into anything but a week of pain and a revulsion of ever going back. But I thought it would slim me down for a day since I've been feeling a bit sausagey lately. And even more illogically, I only ever feel like going to the gym when I'm feeling svelte.

So I woke up all refreshed, yawned, pulled on some shorts, sweats and a jacket, packed a towel and yoga mat and made my way to the end of the street. I walked up to the door of Bikram's and yanked. Locked. Hallloooo...I stared inside. It was empty...as if it had never been there.

Shucks. Bikram's on Cambie closed down as of November 1st...yesterday. So there I was, defeated and thinking "blast it!" I sulked back home, moped around for a bit, sighed a lot and then started cleaning. Avoiding the gym, I went out to Burnaby to visit a friend. Had a great time eating all you can eat sushi and window shopping with Susie - my hot chica banana :)

I made it home by 5 and somehow got up enough motivation to go to the gym (which is a block away from my apartment). It was a meek gym jaunt, a half hour at best. Did a bit of this, and a bit of that with little direction...and came home to eat dinner.

So although it took a whole day to finally get to the gym, I'm glad I did. And I hope this will become a regular thing. Even if it's just half and hour, at least it's something?

Yawn...exhausted...must be all that exercise. Bedtime...it's been a long day :)

marriage...me?

It's been awhile since I've posted because my life has been pretty uneventful lately. But today, I did something that was definitely an event. Something I thought I would never do -- shop for a wedding dress.

You see, my good friend Wendy booked a couple of appointments for the two of us. I was hesitant to try on anything myself but was happy to go along with her to help her pick out a dress for her wedding next year.

I believe an explanation is necessary at this point. I have never been that girl that has planned her wedding since she was 7, dressing up Ken and Barbie and playing out their dream wedding. No, I used to forego Barbie and Ken for my pogoball, my brothers skateboard or playing with boys. I was kind of a tomboy...never liked to wear dresses or anything mildly feminine. And this lasted until grade 11, when I believe my feminine side hit me in the face. Or my boobs hit me in the face.

I always set goals for myself - get a university degree, make a career out of writing (not there yet) and travel to far away adventurous places. No where did I include getting married. It had never crossed my mind. I pictured myself single forever...with a "flexible" partner in life.

How I happened to get to this point, the big G only knows. Well, the big G and me I guess. I met a very traditional guy and fell in love.

So there I found myself trying on dresses.

The first place we went to was perfect - very low-key and inexpensive. Wendy and I had the whole place to ourselves and the lady attending to us was so helpful. The best part was that I found a beautiful dress that may be the one.

We went and got coffee and made our way to the next place. Bisou Bridal. We walked in and immediately knew this was not the place for us. The girl attending to us was nice at first but when she saw that our budget was $1500 (actually, $500 but that was our only option on the form), she immediately changed her demeanor. She was condescending and I was ready to pull the plug but we decided to humour ourselves.

I tried on a few "couture" dresses and laughed a bit inside at how much they cost. The place was bustling with girls ooohing and aaahing at atrociously over-the-top dresses. Totally out of our element, we left without a dress or a good feeling about the whole experience.

And so, my first dress adventure started out great but ended with a big thumbs down. But the good thing is that I think I'm slowly getting used to this marriage idea. Hopefully I'll get even more comfortable and start planning the damn thing one of these days.

nerdy saturday night

I don't know if "Saturday night" as I used to know it is over, but I'm currently sitting on my couch, eating a Reese's peanut butter cup and downloading a movie. And this is getting pretty typical. Am I just getting old and tired? No. You know, I actually enjoy spending at least one night in on the weekend. Veg, eat fun food, watch a good (or bad) movie - go to bed early and wake up on a Sunday without a hangover. To me, that is heaven.

Although, I can see how in a few years, the fun food and laying on the couch might lead to some scary physical changes. And maybe I've gotten too "comfortable" where I am.

But on another note, Lenny and I went to a concert last night and had a lot of fun...or at least I did. I was excited about finally getting to see Weezer live. I still remember the first time I heard them. It was a Friday night and all our friends were out drinking at a hicktown pit party. I, on the other hand, was driving up to Harper Mountain (in my home town of Kamloops) with my best friend (at the time - Kristy), her boyfriend (Maki) and Maki's friend Trevor. Trevor told us about this really cool band...he introduced them as a "bunch of nerds with guitars". He asked us to put his newly acquired tape into the Chevette's most excellent souped up tape player.

You see, Trevor was going to teach Kristy and I how to snowboard. We were 16 and so eager yet scared out of our minds. But we got up on those boards and did our best. Truthfully, I never really "got" snowboarding. But what I still remember from that first venture was the music that themed it. "Say it ain't so" still smells like snow and adventure to me. And just plain good ol' clean fun.

It was so good to share that love with my newbie Weezer fan, Lenny. I slowly brought him over to my side of the Weezer lovin' when I made a CD for him with "Perfect Situation" and "In the Garage". I told him exactly what Trevor said in the car that day "they're a bunch of nerds with guitars". To which Lenny couldn't believe. Again, culturally, his European idea of a nerd is a much more negative one than the Canadian connotation. He was hellbent on proving me wrong about that and even pulled up a youtube video of "Perfect Situation". "Look" he said, "they're not nerds...look at all the girls".

I went on to explain to him that being a nerd is not a bad thing. Nerds are actually really cool. Are they not? Or maybe going back to my last post, I've always had a soft spot for nerds because my dad has always been very nerdy (pocket protector anyone?).

So when I say I'm a nerd who likes to stay home at least one night on the weekend, then I guess I'm actually saying I think i'm kind of, sort of cool?

furrowed eyebrows

Why i'm annoyed:

Too much work, so little time. I feel kind of like i'm drowning in work and it seems like there is no silver lining. I wish sometimes that the more work you did, the more money you got. I kept thinking how wonderful it would be if my boss dropped by my desk and handed me a big wad of cash and said "you've been working your a$$ off lately -- and we really appreciate it. Go buy yourself something nice". But no, it seems the less work you do, the more money you make. Or maybe I just need to look for a new job.

Ignorant comments. One of my co-workers, one that i've always looked up to as a grandpa figure, said "it's so nice to have a lady in our meetings, something nice to look at rather than staring at men for 4 hours". He was talking about a friend of mine...and it was really sexist. Granted, he must have been 50 in the Reagan era, but still, it made me look at him in a different light. I should excuse it and laugh it off but I didn't...and maybe it's because I was in a bad mood today.

Uncomfortable compliments. I walked home today after going for a 30 minute run with a couple of co-workers. Looking haggard, drenched in sweat and wearing shorts, dirty running shoes and a dressy winter coat, this guy said to me right outside of Bikram's Yoga "wow, you have nice legs". So all I did was furrow my eyebrows and said "uhhhh, thanks?". Again, maybe I should have laughed it off and even been greatful? But no, it made me feel uncomfortable? Blush.

Family Guy. I feel like my tv watching has been railroaded by Lenny. He is in love with Family Guy. I used to chuckle at the show but it's getting under my skin now. Especially since it seems like it's always the same damn show playing over and over again. It's so juvenile. Mad face. And the volume is so loud. Although it's not such a bad thing since it gets me to be productive and stay out of the living room.

Chips in the cupboard. My brother came over this weekend so Lenny stocked up on chips. And now he pulls them out everytime the tv goes on. The one thing I have no willpower against - CHIPS. There goes the fat burning benefits of my run today :)

Okay - this post was really lame and full of complaints but it's been sitting in my draft posts for almost a week now so I better just post it before it creates a bottleneck for future posts.

what a trip

Okay - so as much as I wanted to post while I was on vacation, it just didn't happen. I tried, really I did but I was constantly surrounded by family wanting to spend time so I couldn't sneak away to a computer even for a moment.

Here's the random and fast-track low-down on my trip:

First day:

After a long waiting game at both the Seattle and Houston airports (below: Lenny catching some zzz's between flights),

we finally arrived in San Pedro Sula (SPS). On our connecting flight from Houston to SPS, I sat beside an 85 year old Honduran woman who didn't speak any English and recounted her whole life story to me as Lenny listened to my ipod. I helped her with her customs forms and had to hold her hand steady as she attempted her signature -- awww!

And finally, touchdown. First reaction? It was so freakin' hot. The minute I stepped out of the air conditioned airport, my jeans were soaked. I know, gross. It was over 40 degrees with crazy humidity...all I kept thinking was "global warming man, global warming". It was never this hot in SPS when I lived there...and my cousin says it's been getting worse. But despite the heat, I hugged my family like crazy after not seeing them for 8 years. My family took us straight to the mall where there is a/c. And after eating, all I wanted was a bed.

Day 2:

Spent the day in town and at the mall, can you believe it? When in Rome...do as the locals do. Malls are a new concept in SPS and therefore, it's now become the place to go...like a tourist attraction.

My family lives with meager means...and do not have the luxury of a/c in their homes. Therefore, sitting at home chatting is inconceivable. So we went to various markets to buy a few souvenirs...then to the mall to eat "clean food".

After lunch, Lenny and I both got pedicures (the Lenny pedicure thing is not to leave this post) as a little girl sat nearby listening to our conversation. She pretended like she was reading a magazine and we both just assumed she didn't speak English...but she interjected with "where ya from?" with a New Jersey accent. Cutest thing ever...she didn't stop talking to us...she joined me in making fun of Lenny getting his feet dipped in paraffin wax. She eventually told me that I confuse my spanish as she heard me talking to my aunt. Good to know -- now I know i've been away too long!

The whole family arrived at my aunt's place that night with 2 year old kids in tow (that's my little niece Hilary who kept giving me mad face -- such a doll though with her side ponytail!).

It felt so good to be around my big family again. I bought my cousin and uncle digital cameras and they were taking pictures of everything -- from the food, to the kids dancing. Lenny got by when it came to Spanish. He understood everything but would reply back in Portuguese. Everyone was all smiles and stares back at him, and I would have to translate. But it was cute, he really tried and would get so into it trying to spanish-ize his portuguese.

Day 3:
Finally -- the relaxing part of my vacation. Our trip to the Bay Islands/Roatan began early in the morning. We woke up at 7am, showered and waited for my grandma. You see, initially Lenny and I had planned a little romantic 5 day get-away for just the two of us...but upon landing in SPS, my grandma says to me "so who's going to Roatan with you?" with a big smile on her face. I said "whoever wants to come!" knowing that she was hinting that she wanted to come. My cousin who had originally told me she couldn't come with us a month ago, was now able to get time off work but only for four days. So the four of us it was..and I had to cut our trip by one day (including 2 days travel time).

Happy to have travel companions to alleviate Lenny's worries of getting robbed on our way there, we set off to the "aeropuerto de los pobres" as my uncle called it, the "airport for the poor"...or the bus station. After purchasing first class tickets for the four of us, we boarded our bus and I popped my headphones on (thanks Rawbean, I loaded up with some of your current faves and was in heaven) and away we went. 3 hours later, we arrived in La Ceiba -- one of the most dangerous areas in Honduras. We tried to barter with an angry cab driver (he wouldn't lower his price and had already put all our baggage in his trunk) and he drove us to the ferry terminal -- we were a bit weary because he drove us through some sketchy areas. But we made it all in one piece.

The ferry was interesting -- this time we opted out of "first class" and sat at the back of the boat with all the locals. Noticing throughout the ride that people were throwing up all over the place made for a queasy ride. I did my best to hold it together and keep my grape soda from reappearing...and we finally arrived in paradise.

Now you see, Roatan is an island in Honduras where foreigners go to scuba dive, lie on the white sandy beaches and gorge at resorts. They typically arrive by airplane and are whisked away to their resort. We chose the local way of getting there...bus, ferry, taxi...and felt the repercussions. It was a half hour drive to get to Las Rocas and we were already exhausted. Driving through Coxen Hole late at night felt a bit unsafe...but FINALLY, we arrived.

We arrived just before 9pm and were taken to our cabins. I booked an extra cabin for my grandma and cousin...and they were devastated. They wanted to stay in the same cabin as Lenny and I so we could stay up talking all night. We needed some alone time...so the following day, I told them that Lenny doesn't like going to the bathroom with anyone else in the room.

Sidenote and fodder for another post: the bathrooms in every cabin have no ceiling...and I wasn't lying about Lenny's shame of gawd forbid, anyone hearing him go to the bathroom. He actually kicked me out everytime he had to go to the bathroom, no matter the number (1 or 2). He even went as far as to walk to the restaurant to go to the bathroom late at night because I wouldn't go outside to sit on the hammock. It's totally loco. I seriously have never heard the guy fart. It's inhuman!

Anyways, so my grandma had a good laugh about Lenny. We ate dinner, me a salad (I now know to NEVER eat salad in countries with less than stellar water cleanliness), Lenny the lobster...and my grandma and cousin (Audely) at first chose not to eat because it was too expensive (we were paying). We forced them to eat finally and then went to bed.

Day 4:

Ugh sick. The bathroom was my best friend. Eating nothing but white foods, I did my best to lie on the beach as my grandma, Lenny and Aude went swimming in the crystal blue water. Then one of the water taxi drivers charged us $160 (american) to go and see dolphins, starfish and the Roatan museum. That's my grandma and I pretending to be sea creatures at the bottom of the ocean...don't we look like crabs?

The dolphins were caged at this mad luxury resort and forced to swim with people who paid $100pp. The monkeys at the Gumba Limba Park (highlighted and dog-eared in my travel guide) were dying apparently because they were taken out of their natural habitat...therefore, I decided not to go see them and boycott the park!

Day 5:

I learned the art of saying no to the hundreds of vendors that attack you on the beach. I gave them this firm "no gracias" and mimicked my grandma by waving them away with my arm. I felt guilty afterwards because I come from a "have" country -- and they "have-not" but you can't solve the worlds problems by buying a necklace. The kid below looked just like a young Ray Liotta (does he not?) so I asked if I could take his picture if I bought a few necklaces...poor thing...but he told me that he gets paid well and was saving to buy a pair of sneakers.

Lenny was surrounded by kids selling. He would stare at the jewelry as he was saying no and therefore they assumed that he was interested...and when they didn't go away, he would pull out some $ and buy something from each one. He's such a sucker...and has a big heart...

Day 6:

We had to make our way back to San Pedro Sula already. Still sick, I attempted to eat something substantial for lunch. We walked briskly to a burger joint in La Ceiba (there was a shooting by local drug lords the night before and everyone was warning us to be careful). We ate burgers near the bus station and got on the bus an hour later.

I spent the bus ride up and down to the bathroom, feeling nauseous. My grandma handed me a towel in case I need to throw up...and I did. And didn't stop for the next two days.

Day 7:

SICK. My aunt Nena and grandma came up with all these crazy remedies to make me stop vomiting...corn meal, alka seltzer in coca-cola, cinnamon tea? what the hell. I tried them all to no avail. And back to the sweaty hot bathroom with no working fan to expunge all the lovely homemade remedies.

Day 8:

In the hospital, hooked up to the IV -- dehydrated as a mo'fo' -- still vomiting and having to wheel my bag of fluid to the bathroom with me as the nurse watched.

I finally slept and woke up surrounded by my whole family watching the Honduras/Canada soccer game in my private room. I asked for water because I was so damned thirsty but the doctor didn't allow it. So I went back to sleep. At night, Lenny had to squeeze himself onto my hospital bed to sleep with me as my cousin Audely slept on a cot in the room.

Day 9:

I felt a thousand times better -- apparently had colour back in my face. I was just happy to be alive (that's me, feeling better below).

The nurse brought me orange juice and two pieces of white toast. And I was able to keep it down in my empty/hungry/sore tummy. Lenny had packed our bags and gotten them ready for our flight back to Canada. My grandma said "first things first" and took me to a salon to get my hair done because she thought my hair looked really sad (and she was right). Here we are four hours later -- and I have that nice after-diarrhea/vomiting glow:

I held on tightly to my family at the airport -- and went through security as they watched us through the window from below. "I'll be back" I mouthed to them and waved. Aw. So sad. I was so sad and lost in thought that I walked into the men's bathroom without noticing while waiting near our departure gate -- and confused an American guy when I opened his door as he stood there peeing. He exclaimed "oh, i'm in the wrong bathroom!" when it was actually me.

I didn't eat on the plane because they handed out these nasty chicken sandwiches -- and we didn't have time between our connecting flight for me to find something bearable to my weakened stomach. Pizza on the next flight, oh joy. Lenny was loving it, eating up all my food. So I drank orange juice and sipped on water. We made it to the Seattle airport and I bought a huge bag of kettle chips, salt and black pepper. mmmmm nothing ever tasted so good.

Day 10:

Back in Vancouver at 1 in the morning -- and back to work the next day.

In summary, all I have to say is "what a trip".

Honduras? Where?

So I told someone I was going to Central America today and they said -- straight-faced -- "oh, the mid-west?". Seriously? I mean, I know not everyone knows where it is really but a "Honduras? Oh where is that?" would have been well-received. That's all I have to say.

i need a vacation from my vacation

Countdown: 4 sleeps before my vacation. I've spent every night packing since Saturday. I feel like I have OCD...putting things in my suitcase, then taking them out. And my list-making has gotten outta control. I've made the following lists:

1 - Things to pack
2 - Things to purchase (the longest list)
3 - Things to do
....and last but not least:
4 - Thinks to pack for Leonard

Okay, 4 lists isn't so bad.

So far, i've spent a fortune just getting ready. And the worst part is that i'm only going away for 10 days. It's ridiculous...but what's that saying - "those who prepare for disaster, seldom face it"? I learned this from a my best friend's older brother who gets up at 5am just to avoid traffic on his way to Kamloops..he also cuts out coupons when he makes more than anyone I know.

But seriously, what's the big deal if I forget to bring salty snacks (hyponatremia or extreme dehydration anyone?) or bug spray?

always remember to bring protection

Ever thought of going on an overnite kayaking trip to a secluded campsite (ie - out of cell phone range)? If you do, I recommend making sure you bring bear spray. Or a man at least.

I went on a little adventure with my friend (Agh). We had been planning a trip up Indian Arm in a double kayak for months. We got up early in the morning - packed our tents/sleeping bags and delicious camping food (feeding my obsession with salty snacks). We drove to Deep Cove and pulled out in our "Passat" after stowing away all our goods. It took us 3 hours to get to a secluded campsite (reachable only by boat/kayak) beside Granite Falls.



It was beautiful -- we could hear the waterfall from a half hour away and kept thinking there was an airport nearby because it was so loud (whoosh). The falls were a major attraction for speed boats and all throughout the afternoon, boats were zooming in and out. We were both exhausted by the time we got there and Agh decided to take a nap. 2 hours later, I woke her up to eat dinner. I had already traipsed around the area and by this time I was lying on the beach reading a book.

After dinner, we climbed the rocks up to the falls (that's me, the speck of blue walking on the rocks).

After falling asleep for about 10 minutes on the rocks, we made our way to the beach and lit a little fire. And finally the moment I had been waiting for -- the tarot cards came out. I made Agh bring her tarot cards...I had never had a reading before and wanted to see what gifts were in my future. I was thinking "tarot? what fun!".

It was more foretelling and ominous than fun. Shockingly accurate actually.

In my relationship, i was foretold to "not make any major decisions until this period of confusion ends". Hmmm...you mean like marriage? Well, I guess i'm going to ignore that one. In regards to my career, my professional outlook brought a smile to my face. So, the reading ended on a good note.

It started to get really dark and we were chatting around the fire, feeling totally at ease. We were the only ones at the campsite...aside from a boat parked at the dock on the other side of the falls. We didn't see anybody get in or out of the boat...nor could we see anyone at the falls. It was a bit weird but we chose to ignore it.

A few minutes later, we saw a spotlight shining on us from far off in the distance. Then the spotlight turned off. We could hear the boat coming straight for us...yet the boat had no lights on and by this time it was pitch black. Isn't that against the law or something? I could hear some guy yelling on the boat but I couldn't make out what he was saying. My stomach dropped when I finally heard "______(inaudible) WANTS YOU TO PUT THAT THING OUT".

I jumped up and ran down to fill our little bucket with water and poured it over the fire. I kept running back and forth to the water and DRENCHED the fire until there was no chance of a living flame.

We watched the boat go around the campsite to the other side and park at the dock where the unmanned boat was. The guy was STILL yelling...then lights were turned on on the other boat but it was hard for us to see anything. The falls were so loud that we couldn't hear anything either...but we watched the shuffling around on the dock. The guy didn't seem to be walking towards our campsite (this would require him to cross the falls) so we felt a bit better.

We got into the tent -- after watching the two boats intently as we brushed our teeth in the dark. As I said, I felt a little better but still felt like I had a lump in my throat.

I couldn't tell if there was more than one person...it just seemed like this one guy who was yelling and scurrying about. Then all of a sudden, all the lights went out on both boats and we saw someone walking through the forest with a flashlight towards the falls. YIKES is all I can say.

I did my best to stay calm. I prayed my hail mary's in my head (even though I only go to church once a year)..."Santa Maria madre de dios, que todo salga bien". My mom would always say this when I was growing up...and everything always turned out fine, so what the heck, I gave it a shot...over and over again.

The lights came back on the boats and I breathed again.

The rest of the night was just as frightening though -- one of the boat dudes started playing HEAVY METAL music on his stereo and hooting and hollering. And this went on for hours.

Agh was sketching out and at one point, tapped my hand lightly and said "there's a light shining on our tent". And all we thought to bring for protection (against bears) was a whistle.

To make a long story short, i'm still alive. Had a sleepless night...went pee numerous times, but the heavy metal boat dudes never bothered us. We woke up the next morning to heavy rain...and had to paddle against the wind. Drenched and cranky, we arrived back at Deep Cove 4.5 hours later.

It felt so good to be alive that when I got home, I gave Leonard a HUGE hug and held on for so long. Screw the confusion thing, i'm living life to the fullest from now on. How cheezy, I know.

And from now on, i'll remember to bring bear spray. It's always good to have protection. That's the moral of this story. Oh and don't build illegal fires, you can not only cause a forest fire, but also bring on bad omens!

strange but true

here goes...losing my personal blog virginity. I feel like I should be writing something really deep or funny but maybe I should write about something weird that just happened a second ago. My boyfriend, let's call him Leonard, was just shaving (it's 9:14pm) and said out loud "strange but true". So I asked him "are you singing while you shave?" and he just said "no, I was just talking to myself". Huh?

I wanted to find out more but I didn't push. No further explanation. He just kept shaving. And I will never know what is strange but true.

You know when you're thinking about something and you accidently say it out loud? Well, this hasn't really happened to me yet...or at least I don't think it has. It's weird when someone else does it... I think we're always running conversations through our head that we're bound to let something out inadvertently. I know that I'm an annoying whisper-reader...when i'm reading something intently at work and there's too much noise, I whisper-read. Weird? I dunno.

Anyways, enough about this. I'm super excited about posting this so I can see what it looks like...so dorky.