Hi blog reading friends. I know you have been visiting Rêve Rouge every day, multiple times a day, hoping I will update you on the exciting things that are happening in my life. The thing is, I have been so busy with said exciting things, that I haven't prioritized my blog writing. I am so excited to do these other things.
So here's a quick rundown. I'm launching a new site. It's almost done. It is looking SO good, thanks to a couple wonderful people whose talents include making things look good. When the website launches, so does my new blog. Yes, new blog! After six years, I am retiring Rêve Rouge. I am excited about this site because I am finally growing up and grabbing a piece of real estate on the Internet to show off my work. Soon I won't be a copywriter with just a paper portfolio anymore. I'll have an Internet one. Hooray!
Also, I won this exciting new contest that is keeping me busy: 24 personal training sessions at my gym! So twice a week for three months (starting last week), I am getting my butt kicked by a personal trainer. To take full advantage of this awesome prize, I'm trying really hard to eat and exercise well outside of the personal training sessions. So that's a bit time consuming. But it's going to be great. It IS great. In exchange, I am writing one blog post a week for the West Loop Athletic Club Facebook page, so you can check there if you want to read words written by me.
See you soon!
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
More wine!
Last night I volunteered a wine tasting event last night at l’Alliance Française de Chicago. I was asked if I would help translate for the sommelier because he didn’t speak English very well. It was a disaster. I don’t know any technical wine terms in English. And I definitely don’t know them in French. I did a lot of shoulder shrugging and mostly guessed (most of the time wrong, as one of the attendees was happy to point out) what he was saying.
Although no one blamed me, and both the event organizer and sommelier were grateful that I tried, I felt frustrated and dumb. Wine is supposed to be fun! Fun is not standing in front of 15 people stumbling through translating the éraflage, sulfitage, and levurage steps of the vinification process. I think the people who paid for the event had fun though, and that’s what really matters.
And this is the perfect opportunity to talk about the last fun experience I had with wine.
As a loyal blog reader, you may have read my down-in-the-dumps post about when I first arrived in Australia. It was anti-climatic to travel all the way to Melbourne and not be totally blown away by it, and I didn’t know anyone there either. So I decided for my last day in Melbourne, I’d take a wine tour in the Yarra Valley.
And it turned out to be the best day I had in Australia!
Paul, the tour company owner, runs Winebus Winery Tours on the side of his full-time. He’s just a dude who loves and knows a lot about wine. The other 10 people on the tour were middle aged couples from Australia, New Zealand, and one from Amsterdam. We started at the (French!) Moët Champagne vineyard, where I sampled a yummy sparkling Pinot Noir and started making friends.
Throughout the day, as I got to know the other people on the tour (and as we sampled more and more wine together), I began to think Australia wasn’t so dull after all. I felt very welcomed by the group. I was the youngest and the only person doing the tour solo, and I was one of the few who had never been to Australia before. These people thought it was SO COOL that I was 25 years old and had pinched my pennies to come to Australia just because. Everyone took me under their winey wings to offer a recommendations about what I should see or do on my travels — and to make sure I had a space at the bar for the next tasting.
When we sat down for lunch at one of the wineries, a fly decided to drown in my water glass. The server was going to get me a new glass, but instead I just picked it out and said I didn’t mind a little extra protein. The group thought it was hysterical. They made jokes about me eating flies the rest of the tour. And when I decided not to order the cheese platter because it was for two people, two of the couples who had already ordered insisted that I sample every type of cheese on theirs. Lunching in a vineyard, sipping on wine and eating cheese with my new BFFs... it was pretty great. When the bus dropped me off at the end of the day, I was sleepy and happy. I cheerfully said goodbye to everyone. I’ll never see them again, but I’ll always remember having a blast with them!
Although no one blamed me, and both the event organizer and sommelier were grateful that I tried, I felt frustrated and dumb. Wine is supposed to be fun! Fun is not standing in front of 15 people stumbling through translating the éraflage, sulfitage, and levurage steps of the vinification process. I think the people who paid for the event had fun though, and that’s what really matters.
And this is the perfect opportunity to talk about the last fun experience I had with wine.
As a loyal blog reader, you may have read my down-in-the-dumps post about when I first arrived in Australia. It was anti-climatic to travel all the way to Melbourne and not be totally blown away by it, and I didn’t know anyone there either. So I decided for my last day in Melbourne, I’d take a wine tour in the Yarra Valley.
And it turned out to be the best day I had in Australia!
Paul, the tour company owner, runs Winebus Winery Tours on the side of his full-time. He’s just a dude who loves and knows a lot about wine. The other 10 people on the tour were middle aged couples from Australia, New Zealand, and one from Amsterdam. We started at the (French!) Moët Champagne vineyard, where I sampled a yummy sparkling Pinot Noir and started making friends.
Throughout the day, as I got to know the other people on the tour (and as we sampled more and more wine together), I began to think Australia wasn’t so dull after all. I felt very welcomed by the group. I was the youngest and the only person doing the tour solo, and I was one of the few who had never been to Australia before. These people thought it was SO COOL that I was 25 years old and had pinched my pennies to come to Australia just because. Everyone took me under their winey wings to offer a recommendations about what I should see or do on my travels — and to make sure I had a space at the bar for the next tasting. 
When we sat down for lunch at one of the wineries, a fly decided to drown in my water glass. The server was going to get me a new glass, but instead I just picked it out and said I didn’t mind a little extra protein. The group thought it was hysterical. They made jokes about me eating flies the rest of the tour. And when I decided not to order the cheese platter because it was for two people, two of the couples who had already ordered insisted that I sample every type of cheese on theirs. Lunching in a vineyard, sipping on wine and eating cheese with my new BFFs... it was pretty great. When the bus dropped me off at the end of the day, I was sleepy and happy. I cheerfully said goodbye to everyone. I’ll never see them again, but I’ll always remember having a blast with them! 
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Letter Writing Campaign
My aunt is the master of writing letters to companies for various reasons. She's written letters to Rainbow Sandals because one flip flop was hurting her foot, the Metra suburban commuter train system because the doors did not have Braille instructions (she's not blind, but thought that it might be challenging for a blind person to understand you have to push a particular button to open the doors between the cars), and the director of The Bourne Supremacy because the movie gave her a headache.
Though we laugh a little bit about her tedancy to write a letter about the most randomest of things, she usually gets what she wants; a new pair of sandals, Braille on the doors, and I'm not sure what from the The Bourne Supremacy director.
Recently I decided to write the following emails to the following companies for the following things:
- Bell Sports, Inc. because my front bike light, though very bright and functional, kept falling off my handlebars
- Master Lock because my gym lock ceased to open
- Joe's Jeans because their stupid jeans are really terrible and continue to turn my hands blue after several washes and the leg seams are all wonky
- Direct Loans because their Kwik Pay system is fudged up and also because of this non-proofread letter they sent me and probably millions of other people:
Though we laugh a little bit about her tedancy to write a letter about the most randomest of things, she usually gets what she wants; a new pair of sandals, Braille on the doors, and I'm not sure what from the The Bourne Supremacy director.
Recently I decided to write the following emails to the following companies for the following things:
- Bell Sports, Inc. because my front bike light, though very bright and functional, kept falling off my handlebars
- Master Lock because my gym lock ceased to open
- Joe's Jeans because their stupid jeans are really terrible and continue to turn my hands blue after several washes and the leg seams are all wonky
- Direct Loans because their Kwik Pay system is fudged up and also because of this non-proofread letter they sent me and probably millions of other people:
Your request to change the bank account from which your monthly payments are automatically debited through KwikPay® has been processed. Your first automatic payment from the new bank account will be deducted on 199.58 in the amount of $03/14/12.Bell Sports, Inc. and Master Lock sent me the same products to replace my defective ones. Good job guys. Joe's Jeans and Direct Loans ignored me. You lose.
Wednesday, February 08, 2012
#16 Baggage
I'm coming back to the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #16: BAGGAGE. Mental baggage can weigh us down as much as physical baggage when we travel. How do you travel lightly – either emotionally or physically?
Hrm... how do I travel lightly? I think I travel mediumly. I make pretty detailed lists that include how many pairs of socks and the number of pens I'm planning to bring. Then I can cross things off once they goes in the suitcase so I can have peace of mind that it's packed.
I will inevitably pack one outfit I will never wear for whatever reason. I will always bring more notebooks than I will ever need, but can't stop packing so many. What if I RUN OUT OF NOTEBOOKS? That would be the worst. I pack a lot of scarves because they make many outfits versatile. I pack nail polish and a bitty bottle of nail polish remover, because it's nice to feel feminine when you're on the road (and blow dryer/hair straightener/makeup bag are heavy). I like to bring gifts to friends I'm seeing, which usually makes my suitcase lighter on the way back.
(I moved that pancake mix to the front pocket last minute, which ended up being a good decision, because it exploded).
I don't bring books. I don't care how much you love the feel of getting papercuts when you turn the page, books are friggin heavy. My Kindle is great because it's light and can store lots of books, although I'm terrified of leaving it in the seat pocket. Donut pillows are dumb. I've lugged one to and back from my last two international trips, and it was a huge mistake. If you're flying economy for more than a few hours, you're going to mildly uncomfortable. That's just how it goes.
And I wasn't really pro iPad until this last trip. A lot of people have them, even in hostels. Laptops aren't the most portable computers anymore. Both computers and chargers are bulky and heavy. So that's the next travel necessity on my list.
Hrm... how do I travel lightly? I think I travel mediumly. I make pretty detailed lists that include how many pairs of socks and the number of pens I'm planning to bring. Then I can cross things off once they goes in the suitcase so I can have peace of mind that it's packed.
I will inevitably pack one outfit I will never wear for whatever reason. I will always bring more notebooks than I will ever need, but can't stop packing so many. What if I RUN OUT OF NOTEBOOKS? That would be the worst. I pack a lot of scarves because they make many outfits versatile. I pack nail polish and a bitty bottle of nail polish remover, because it's nice to feel feminine when you're on the road (and blow dryer/hair straightener/makeup bag are heavy). I like to bring gifts to friends I'm seeing, which usually makes my suitcase lighter on the way back.
(I moved that pancake mix to the front pocket last minute, which ended up being a good decision, because it exploded).I don't bring books. I don't care how much you love the feel of getting papercuts when you turn the page, books are friggin heavy. My Kindle is great because it's light and can store lots of books, although I'm terrified of leaving it in the seat pocket. Donut pillows are dumb. I've lugged one to and back from my last two international trips, and it was a huge mistake. If you're flying economy for more than a few hours, you're going to mildly uncomfortable. That's just how it goes.
And I wasn't really pro iPad until this last trip. A lot of people have them, even in hostels. Laptops aren't the most portable computers anymore. Both computers and chargers are bulky and heavy. So that's the next travel necessity on my list.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
#15 City
I'm coming back to the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #15: CITY What is your favorite (or least favorite) city and what do you love (or hate) about it?
Traveling is one of my top priorities. It's why I'm a super budgeter and couponer, why I cook at home more than I eat out, and why I don't buy a lot of new clothes. It's why my passport looks like this:
There are lots of cities I've enjoyed visiting and lots more that I intend to get to. But if you know me well, you won't be surprised to learn that my favorite city is Chicago.
I grew up in the suburbs, so my experience of Chicago was pretty limited the annual French class trip to the German Christmas market (I know, it makes no sense). A few years ago, I decided to leave France, grab the cat from my parents', and move to the city proper.
I wanted to be young in a city with energy. I wanted to start my career in a place I already knew I felt comfortable. I knew enough people that I had roomates to live with and wouldn't be completely lonely on the weekends. Okay and yeah, maybe my boyfriend had just moved here.
Compared to other large cities in the U.S., I like Chicago because it's not trying to prove anything to anyone. I'm not here because I'm trying to make it big, write the world's next big novel, or win an agency award for a killer headline. I'm here because I enjoy a reasonable cost of living, can ride my bike everywhere, and grab a few really delicious tacos a few blocks away. I like how social this city is, and I like that I am surrounded by people who are working hard because they love what they do.
In case you were wondering, the cat says she likes it here, too.
Traveling is one of my top priorities. It's why I'm a super budgeter and couponer, why I cook at home more than I eat out, and why I don't buy a lot of new clothes. It's why my passport looks like this:
There are lots of cities I've enjoyed visiting and lots more that I intend to get to. But if you know me well, you won't be surprised to learn that my favorite city is Chicago.I grew up in the suburbs, so my experience of Chicago was pretty limited the annual French class trip to the German Christmas market (I know, it makes no sense). A few years ago, I decided to leave France, grab the cat from my parents', and move to the city proper.
I wanted to be young in a city with energy. I wanted to start my career in a place I already knew I felt comfortable. I knew enough people that I had roomates to live with and wouldn't be completely lonely on the weekends. Okay and yeah, maybe my boyfriend had just moved here.
Compared to other large cities in the U.S., I like Chicago because it's not trying to prove anything to anyone. I'm not here because I'm trying to make it big, write the world's next big novel, or win an agency award for a killer headline. I'm here because I enjoy a reasonable cost of living, can ride my bike everywhere, and grab a few really delicious tacos a few blocks away. I like how social this city is, and I like that I am surrounded by people who are working hard because they love what they do.
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.I could go on and on, but today's a new day, and Chicago is waiting for me.
- Carl Sandburg, "Chicago"
In case you were wondering, the cat says she likes it here, too.
Sunday, February 05, 2012
#14 Quote
I'm coming back to the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #14: QUOTE What’s your favorite quote about travel? Why does it stand out to you?
I really like the movie Dead Poet's Society. Cliché maybe, but I will not apologize for that. And while I was on this most recent trip, either traipsing through a river or cave or national park or glacier or something, this quote popped into my head. It's probably because, like the characters in the movie, I left my day-to-day life for a moment to spend time in nature and do something else.
This quote is not about travel, but I think it is why I travel.
The sucking the marrow out of life and discovering how to live blah blah blah is very poetic and all, but my absolute favorite part of it is the "live deliberately" part.
Whatever we have going on every day — jobs to go to, friends to see, meals to be eaten, pets to be taken care of, in my case yoga or French classes to attend — those things become habitual no matter how much we love or enjoy them. Ever thought to yourself "it's already Friday?" or "January is already over?" Sometimes... well oftentimes... I forget to think about why I am doing what I am doing. And then I forget to feel feelings because there's somethng else to do.
Traveling to a new city or country puts me someplace where it is impossible to go through the motions of my day, because I have no schedule or habits tied to the place. My Chicago life is crazy overscheduled, plus there's that stuff that I constantly have to take care of like the laundry, dirty dishes, or sorting through junk mail. Although I can work on living deliberately here, it is tough to bring a deliberate decision-making process to washing clothes or dishes or getting rid of yet another Bon Appetit subscription offer. Those things just need to be done.
But when I am traveling, either a bit lonely in a city that isn't doing much for me or sipping wine with new friends at ukulele concert in a vineyard, I am not thinking about what's next on my to-do list. Maybe I travel to these places to suck out all the marrow of life. But mostly I think I have come to deliberately live these great memories and experiences.
I really like the movie Dead Poet's Society. Cliché maybe, but I will not apologize for that. And while I was on this most recent trip, either traipsing through a river or cave or national park or glacier or something, this quote popped into my head. It's probably because, like the characters in the movie, I left my day-to-day life for a moment to spend time in nature and do something else.
This quote is not about travel, but I think it is why I travel.
The sucking the marrow out of life and discovering how to live blah blah blah is very poetic and all, but my absolute favorite part of it is the "live deliberately" part.
Whatever we have going on every day — jobs to go to, friends to see, meals to be eaten, pets to be taken care of, in my case yoga or French classes to attend — those things become habitual no matter how much we love or enjoy them. Ever thought to yourself "it's already Friday?" or "January is already over?" Sometimes... well oftentimes... I forget to think about why I am doing what I am doing. And then I forget to feel feelings because there's somethng else to do.
Traveling to a new city or country puts me someplace where it is impossible to go through the motions of my day, because I have no schedule or habits tied to the place. My Chicago life is crazy overscheduled, plus there's that stuff that I constantly have to take care of like the laundry, dirty dishes, or sorting through junk mail. Although I can work on living deliberately here, it is tough to bring a deliberate decision-making process to washing clothes or dishes or getting rid of yet another Bon Appetit subscription offer. Those things just need to be done.
But when I am traveling, either a bit lonely in a city that isn't doing much for me or sipping wine with new friends at ukulele concert in a vineyard, I am not thinking about what's next on my to-do list. Maybe I travel to these places to suck out all the marrow of life. But mostly I think I have come to deliberately live these great memories and experiences.
Monday, January 23, 2012
#28 Gear
I'm coming back to the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #28: GEAR. The right gear can make or break your trip. What gear did you wish you had on your most recent trip?
Packing for my trip to New Zealand was challenging because I didn't know what to bring. My friend Lucy had confirmed that she'd pick me up from the airport and this was all I knew about what to expect because she was too busy with work to fill me in: "Dang, I am making some sweet plans. I hope you are keen for an authentic kiwi adventure... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKK!!!!!!!! No tourist shit, you're going straight to where the crazies all live." So although I brought the typical things that you need when you're traipsing around and staying in hostels — flip flops, towel, a decent amount of underwear, nail polish, of course — I wasn't totally prepared.
Lucy picked me up from the Christchurch airport in a car packed to its sunroof of stuff for an epic voyage: food, sleeping bags, tent, even a futon mattress so we could sleep in the car if needed. We stopped at her parents' house to grab a few things I didn't have. Lucy wanted me to have hiking boots and a rain jacket, because she was hoping we would find an awesome place to go tramping. But all she could find were her dad's size 42 boots and XL jacket. We packed them in the car.
I really needed walking shoes that were my size though, so we stopped at the mall so I could buy a pair of sneakers. Everything in New Zealand is way more stupid expensive than here, so the cheapest I could find on my quick 10-minute browse through a Foot Locker type of store were a pair of New Balance sneakers on sale for $80. It pained me to pay that much for a pair of shoes when I had 3 or 4 pairs of old running shoes at home that would have done just fine, but they weren't doing me much good 8349 miles away. I had even thought of bringing an old pair of running shoes, but had decided against it. I should have gone with my first instinct!
But the shoes served me well. They took me to this glacier for example:
Here are a few other things that I think I will pack for my next trip regardless of where I am going:
Packing for my trip to New Zealand was challenging because I didn't know what to bring. My friend Lucy had confirmed that she'd pick me up from the airport and this was all I knew about what to expect because she was too busy with work to fill me in: "Dang, I am making some sweet plans. I hope you are keen for an authentic kiwi adventure... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKK!!!!!!!! No tourist shit, you're going straight to where the crazies all live." So although I brought the typical things that you need when you're traipsing around and staying in hostels — flip flops, towel, a decent amount of underwear, nail polish, of course — I wasn't totally prepared.
Lucy picked me up from the Christchurch airport in a car packed to its sunroof of stuff for an epic voyage: food, sleeping bags, tent, even a futon mattress so we could sleep in the car if needed. We stopped at her parents' house to grab a few things I didn't have. Lucy wanted me to have hiking boots and a rain jacket, because she was hoping we would find an awesome place to go tramping. But all she could find were her dad's size 42 boots and XL jacket. We packed them in the car.
I really needed walking shoes that were my size though, so we stopped at the mall so I could buy a pair of sneakers. Everything in New Zealand is way more stupid expensive than here, so the cheapest I could find on my quick 10-minute browse through a Foot Locker type of store were a pair of New Balance sneakers on sale for $80. It pained me to pay that much for a pair of shoes when I had 3 or 4 pairs of old running shoes at home that would have done just fine, but they weren't doing me much good 8349 miles away. I had even thought of bringing an old pair of running shoes, but had decided against it. I should have gone with my first instinct!
But the shoes served me well. They took me to this glacier for example:
Here are a few other things that I think I will pack for my next trip regardless of where I am going:
- Headlamp (to read at night and walk in caves and find random things in the car)
- Nail clippers (in case I break my big toenail in half trying to pull myself onto a rock while swimming in a river as I did on this trip)
- Disposable camera (there are places I don't want to take my fancy camera, mainly ones involving water: kayaking, sailing, and river exploring)
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Resolved?
I didn't have much time for New Year's resolutions this year, what with an early family Christmas, the busiest couple of months at work in my young professional life, kinda (but not really) planning my current adventure, and squeezing in as many freelance assignments as I could to afford Christmas and travel without going broke. 2012 resolutions would have to start with 2011 reflections, so I suppose I'll start with that.
This was the year I stood up in my first wedding, completed my first triathlon, and pitched my first glossy magazine piece.
It's the year I started the first job that I feel is 125% a good fit for me professionally and personally.
It's the year I decided I was ready to move in with this guy I've been seeing for the past four years.
It's the year I decided to work on my posture and my swim stroke.
It's the year I decided I needed to be a more compassionate person.
It's the year I decided it was time to let some family stuff go.
It's the year I dyed my hair red.
It's the year I won a trip to France.
It's the year I found out a friend had cancer and the year I felt one of my closest friends start becoming not-so-close anymore.
The year Jake and I finally made it to Cedar Point.
The year I finally made it to New Zealand.
The year I finally made it back to France.
The year I started waking up early to write.
The year I worked too hard.
The year I decided to reach out to a part of my family that hasn't been a part of my life in years.
The year that actually went smashingly well, all things considering, despite me falling into a rut of completely over scheduling my life so as to accomplish the most things possible in every hour of each day, but also the year my byline appeared in more legit articles than ever before.
So 2012?
I think I need to take time to especially appreciate smaller things: the delicious cups of coffee, the changing of the seasons, and other little but beautiful happenings that ask to be a part of my life every single day.
I plan to work just as hard this year, but I also plan to be better at managing my time so I can better appreciate good books, snow, and hearty, full glasses of wine. I am even thinking of investing in a big comfy chair to put in our reading room so I can appreciate all of those things at the same time.
This was the year I stood up in my first wedding, completed my first triathlon, and pitched my first glossy magazine piece.
It's the year I started the first job that I feel is 125% a good fit for me professionally and personally.
It's the year I decided I was ready to move in with this guy I've been seeing for the past four years.
It's the year I decided to work on my posture and my swim stroke.
It's the year I decided I needed to be a more compassionate person.
It's the year I decided it was time to let some family stuff go.
It's the year I dyed my hair red.
It's the year I won a trip to France.
It's the year I found out a friend had cancer and the year I felt one of my closest friends start becoming not-so-close anymore.
The year Jake and I finally made it to Cedar Point.
The year I finally made it to New Zealand.
The year I finally made it back to France.
The year I started waking up early to write.
The year I worked too hard.
The year I decided to reach out to a part of my family that hasn't been a part of my life in years.
The year that actually went smashingly well, all things considering, despite me falling into a rut of completely over scheduling my life so as to accomplish the most things possible in every hour of each day, but also the year my byline appeared in more legit articles than ever before.
So 2012?
I think I need to take time to especially appreciate smaller things: the delicious cups of coffee, the changing of the seasons, and other little but beautiful happenings that ask to be a part of my life every single day.
I plan to work just as hard this year, but I also plan to be better at managing my time so I can better appreciate good books, snow, and hearty, full glasses of wine. I am even thinking of investing in a big comfy chair to put in our reading room so I can appreciate all of those things at the same time.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
In Australia at Last
After a 4-hour flight to LA, then a few hours layover in the cruddy LA airport, then a 15-hour flight to the Melbourne airport, then a 30-minute bus ride to the city center, and a 30-minute tram ride to my hostel, and I finally arrive to find it closed. Then it started raining.
I don't freak out, I'm just tired. There's a number to call, and there's a cafe next door. So I do that, and wait, and think about how anticlimactic my arrival to Australia has been. It's an expensive flight, and a long flight, and I even missed Christmas for it. And when I get there, the city is pretty much shut down because it's a national holiday, and I'm just sitting around waiting to get into my hostel. It's like no one cares that I'm here.
The cafe owner cares though, and offers to make me a glass of fresh-squeezed mango juice even though I tell him I can't pay him since I don't have cash. He says not to worry about it, that he trusts I will come back the next day and pay. So I drink that, and continue to wait, and think about the bendy straw.
Once I get into the hostel and take a shower, I feel a bit better. The hostel's okay, kinda grimy, but clean enough. The shower is hot, and the bed is clean, and the wifi is free, which is why I picked the place. The people are actually quite nice. Most of them are here long-term for several months or so. They have work visas and are working around Melbourne and living here. I feel like an outsider because the others are becoming fast friends after spending so many weeks living together — they had a Christmas celebration and they frequently cook dinner together — but everyone is very chatty and nice to me even though I'm not part of their group.
I explore the neighborhood a bit; a half mile or so away I find a cute area with a lot of cafes and boutiques. The next day I explore downtown Melbourne and visit a few of the major monuments of the city. I do a lot and I see a lot and I take a lot of pictures, but I feel lonely. Jake sends me a video of his family opening my Christmas present, and I am sad to have missed the celebration. His mom gave me a light-up globe.
I'm kinda glum most of the day. Maybe I'm just jetlagged. But I'm a little sad that there's no one to laugh at some silly shop names with me, like "Lord of the Fries" or "General Pants Co." Other things bum me out too, like that there aren't any classes this week at the cooking school I wanted to check out, and the Queen Victoria Market doesn't have produce today, just souvenir trinkets. I could also be looking for reasons to be bummed out because that is how I feel like feeling.
Maybe I just expected visiting a foreign country to be so much more exciting. I like things about Melbourne, but I'm not excited about it. I have no one to be excited about it with.
I've traveled alone before, and I know this'll pass. I have two more days here before I head to New Zealand to meet a friend, which will be totally different. I don't have anything to be glum about. For now, I will keep myself busy and occupied. Tomorrow I will work all day, which I'm actually looking forward to. I think it'll cheer me up. The next day I might do an all-day wine tour, which will super duper cheer me up.
I don't freak out, I'm just tired. There's a number to call, and there's a cafe next door. So I do that, and wait, and think about how anticlimactic my arrival to Australia has been. It's an expensive flight, and a long flight, and I even missed Christmas for it. And when I get there, the city is pretty much shut down because it's a national holiday, and I'm just sitting around waiting to get into my hostel. It's like no one cares that I'm here.
The cafe owner cares though, and offers to make me a glass of fresh-squeezed mango juice even though I tell him I can't pay him since I don't have cash. He says not to worry about it, that he trusts I will come back the next day and pay. So I drink that, and continue to wait, and think about the bendy straw.
Once I get into the hostel and take a shower, I feel a bit better. The hostel's okay, kinda grimy, but clean enough. The shower is hot, and the bed is clean, and the wifi is free, which is why I picked the place. The people are actually quite nice. Most of them are here long-term for several months or so. They have work visas and are working around Melbourne and living here. I feel like an outsider because the others are becoming fast friends after spending so many weeks living together — they had a Christmas celebration and they frequently cook dinner together — but everyone is very chatty and nice to me even though I'm not part of their group.I explore the neighborhood a bit; a half mile or so away I find a cute area with a lot of cafes and boutiques. The next day I explore downtown Melbourne and visit a few of the major monuments of the city. I do a lot and I see a lot and I take a lot of pictures, but I feel lonely. Jake sends me a video of his family opening my Christmas present, and I am sad to have missed the celebration. His mom gave me a light-up globe.
I'm kinda glum most of the day. Maybe I'm just jetlagged. But I'm a little sad that there's no one to laugh at some silly shop names with me, like "Lord of the Fries" or "General Pants Co." Other things bum me out too, like that there aren't any classes this week at the cooking school I wanted to check out, and the Queen Victoria Market doesn't have produce today, just souvenir trinkets. I could also be looking for reasons to be bummed out because that is how I feel like feeling.
Maybe I just expected visiting a foreign country to be so much more exciting. I like things about Melbourne, but I'm not excited about it. I have no one to be excited about it with.
I've traveled alone before, and I know this'll pass. I have two more days here before I head to New Zealand to meet a friend, which will be totally different. I don't have anything to be glum about. For now, I will keep myself busy and occupied. Tomorrow I will work all day, which I'm actually looking forward to. I think it'll cheer me up. The next day I might do an all-day wine tour, which will super duper cheer me up.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Trashy Food Experiment
I recently read a book called The Kitchen Counter Cooking School: How a Few Simple Lessons Transformed Nine Culinary Novices into Fearless Home Cooks.** This was one of the first non-fiction books I've really enjoyed in sometime. In the book, the author does an experiment where she goes into the kitchens of nine self-professed horrible cooks, sees what some of their mistakes are both in what they stock in their fridges and how they prepare food, then leads them in weekly classes to improve their kitchen confidence and skills.
In reading this book, I realized that a lot of the common mistakes people make in their kitchen are the same ones I make in cooking, too. For example, people are so married to the notion that you have to follow a recipe. When really, if you just throw things together that complement each other and add your favorite spices and seasonings, you can make a pretty yummy meal. So I started making more soups from scratch, and it's been pretty rewarding and delicious! The only problem is that my food processor isn't so patient with liquids, and I keep getting soup on the kitchen walls. But I can deal.
I've also been working on my knife skills. My aunt gave me a gift card to take this class for Christmas last year, but I never got around to doing it. So I went and learned much about knives and how to use them, and I've since been cutting things the right way. I asked for a better cutting board for Christmas, too.
I'm updating my spices. Spices should be replaced every 6-12 months. I haven't yet thrown away my old and defunct spices, and it's hard for me to admit they're no good, because they look okay, though some of them are seriously years old. But I have started to acquire new, fresh spices.
The last thing I've been working on is using up what's in my fridge and repurposing leftovers. We all know we should eat produce, and a lot of Americans will go to the grocery store and stock up on loads of the stuff, but then not know how to prepare it. Or, they'll buy the giant bag of spinach because it's a better deal, but they won't be able to eat it all. It ends up rotting in their fridges, and they end up throwing it out. Thus, Americans throw out 18% of their groceries a year.
Anyone who's spent more than 5 minutes with me knows I am obsessed with saving money — that travel habit of mine ain't cheap! So I decided to do a little experiment to see if I, too, threw out 18% of my food. I labeled the price of all my groceries for the week with Post-It notes.
Here are some of the rules I followed:
- Grocery shop with specific meals in mind. Planning meals saves money.
- Don't buy the bigger portion just because it's cheaper. So, for example, I bought a small amount of loose spinach instead of a whole bag of it.
- Don't buy fruits for the whole week. Buy enough for the next 2-3 days. If you eat it all, you can go back and buy more. You'll notice I only bought three apples.
And once I brought the food home, I tried to follow these rules:
- Save the meals with non-perishables for last.
- If something's starting to get mushy, eat it already! It's not going to get any better.
- Try to be creative with meals by using whatever's left from previous meals.
Throughout the week, every time I threw away a Post-It note, I felt great accomplishment. To try to use leftover tomatoes and basil, I mixed them with pasta and Parmesan cheese. It wasn't the tastiest thing I've ever eaten, but it was okay. To use up the rest of the buttermilk, I made biscuits. Even though the raspberries and strawberries were looking a little sad within a few days, I threw some yogurt over them, gobbled them up, and hardly noticed their overripeness. They tasted like saving money. Yum!
At the end of the week, I did have to throw some of it out. I couldn't use all the basil, and the tomatoes were pretty awful, even when I first bought them. I didn't finish the cucumber, and I don't even know why I bought it, as I don't even really like cucumbers that much. There was a little bit of spinach I never finished, so that went in the trash, too. I'd say I threw away 10%, which isn't bad, but I can do better.
I don't think I'd do the Post-It note thing again as it is a waste of Post-It notes and paper, but I will try harder this week. It'll be challenging with Thanksgiving; I know I will be sent home with tons of leftovers, and I will do my best to eat them all.
** Does anyone else think book titles are getting especially long for better SEO?
In reading this book, I realized that a lot of the common mistakes people make in their kitchen are the same ones I make in cooking, too. For example, people are so married to the notion that you have to follow a recipe. When really, if you just throw things together that complement each other and add your favorite spices and seasonings, you can make a pretty yummy meal. So I started making more soups from scratch, and it's been pretty rewarding and delicious! The only problem is that my food processor isn't so patient with liquids, and I keep getting soup on the kitchen walls. But I can deal.I've also been working on my knife skills. My aunt gave me a gift card to take this class for Christmas last year, but I never got around to doing it. So I went and learned much about knives and how to use them, and I've since been cutting things the right way. I asked for a better cutting board for Christmas, too.
I'm updating my spices. Spices should be replaced every 6-12 months. I haven't yet thrown away my old and defunct spices, and it's hard for me to admit they're no good, because they look okay, though some of them are seriously years old. But I have started to acquire new, fresh spices.
The last thing I've been working on is using up what's in my fridge and repurposing leftovers. We all know we should eat produce, and a lot of Americans will go to the grocery store and stock up on loads of the stuff, but then not know how to prepare it. Or, they'll buy the giant bag of spinach because it's a better deal, but they won't be able to eat it all. It ends up rotting in their fridges, and they end up throwing it out. Thus, Americans throw out 18% of their groceries a year.
Anyone who's spent more than 5 minutes with me knows I am obsessed with saving money — that travel habit of mine ain't cheap! So I decided to do a little experiment to see if I, too, threw out 18% of my food. I labeled the price of all my groceries for the week with Post-It notes.
Here are some of the rules I followed:- Grocery shop with specific meals in mind. Planning meals saves money.
- Don't buy the bigger portion just because it's cheaper. So, for example, I bought a small amount of loose spinach instead of a whole bag of it.
- Don't buy fruits for the whole week. Buy enough for the next 2-3 days. If you eat it all, you can go back and buy more. You'll notice I only bought three apples.
And once I brought the food home, I tried to follow these rules:
- Save the meals with non-perishables for last.
- If something's starting to get mushy, eat it already! It's not going to get any better.
- Try to be creative with meals by using whatever's left from previous meals.
Throughout the week, every time I threw away a Post-It note, I felt great accomplishment. To try to use leftover tomatoes and basil, I mixed them with pasta and Parmesan cheese. It wasn't the tastiest thing I've ever eaten, but it was okay. To use up the rest of the buttermilk, I made biscuits. Even though the raspberries and strawberries were looking a little sad within a few days, I threw some yogurt over them, gobbled them up, and hardly noticed their overripeness. They tasted like saving money. Yum!
At the end of the week, I did have to throw some of it out. I couldn't use all the basil, and the tomatoes were pretty awful, even when I first bought them. I didn't finish the cucumber, and I don't even know why I bought it, as I don't even really like cucumbers that much. There was a little bit of spinach I never finished, so that went in the trash, too. I'd say I threw away 10%, which isn't bad, but I can do better.
I don't think I'd do the Post-It note thing again as it is a waste of Post-It notes and paper, but I will try harder this week. It'll be challenging with Thanksgiving; I know I will be sent home with tons of leftovers, and I will do my best to eat them all.
** Does anyone else think book titles are getting especially long for better SEO?
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Self Doubt... Kinda
I've always wanted to write. I didn't doubt it when I was unemployed or finding a way to use my (some would say) useless journalism degree. I knew I would end up with a job that involved writing, and if I didn't get one right away, I would keep working towards it.
The other night I met two high school friends for dinner, and after some catching up, I started to feel like I had nothing to show for myself. One friend works for the Environmental Protection Agency and the other is just about to graduate law school, and I know she is going to rock the bar exam and do great beyond that. They brought up words I've never heard and discussed things such as government corruption and investigating chemicals. I was genuinely interested, but as I plopped a piece of sushi in soy sauce, some splashing on the table, I thought about how my day-to-day work involves analyzing a single sentence and all its parts.
I've always been proud to talk about my work. And even better, I like it! Even when I didn't have a job, I was doing something writing related. So it wasn't that I wasn't proud of what I do or that my friends were trying to make me feel ashamed. I just felt so much smaller than them. While they will go to work and defend the rights of individuals and even entire communities, I will write 20 variations of the same sentence until I find the perfect combination of words. An admirable pursuit, of course. But not quite the same impact as visiting a site contaminated by chemicals and figuring out what when wrong.
I'm going to have to find some other way to change the world.
The other night I met two high school friends for dinner, and after some catching up, I started to feel like I had nothing to show for myself. One friend works for the Environmental Protection Agency and the other is just about to graduate law school, and I know she is going to rock the bar exam and do great beyond that. They brought up words I've never heard and discussed things such as government corruption and investigating chemicals. I was genuinely interested, but as I plopped a piece of sushi in soy sauce, some splashing on the table, I thought about how my day-to-day work involves analyzing a single sentence and all its parts.
I've always been proud to talk about my work. And even better, I like it! Even when I didn't have a job, I was doing something writing related. So it wasn't that I wasn't proud of what I do or that my friends were trying to make me feel ashamed. I just felt so much smaller than them. While they will go to work and defend the rights of individuals and even entire communities, I will write 20 variations of the same sentence until I find the perfect combination of words. An admirable pursuit, of course. But not quite the same impact as visiting a site contaminated by chemicals and figuring out what when wrong.
I'm going to have to find some other way to change the world.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
#12 Meaningful Connections
I'm participating in the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #12: MEANINGFUL CONNECTIONS. Travelers meet dozens, if not hundreds, of new people on every trip. They may become friends, enemies, lovers, and resources; they may stay in your life forever or be forgotten the next day. Tell about a time you felt a powerful connection – for however long – to another person while traveling.
My 10-day Croatia trip in 2008 was a big independent woman voyage for me. I was going solo, plus I was trying CouchSurfing for the first time, plus I was going to be making all my travel arrangements on the fly once I got there. It was the kind of trip mean to empower single ladies across the planet!
The whole thing went fine with generally no problems. I had lots of experiences that'll stay with me forever, but for the purpose of this post I'll talk about this girl I met.
Traveling alone is empowering and all, you can do what YOU want to do and not have to compromise with anyone. You can spend your money how you want to spend it, linger in one place for longer or leave another place sooner without consulting anyone. But, it can get lonely. I think I'm pretty independent, but even I got lonely.
I was staying at this hostel in Dubrovnik and was hoping to meet some people my age to explore with. I didn't have much luck, so I headed to the walled city to explore it in the company of thousands of other strangers. The walls that were built to protect the city in the 12th to 17th century still stand, and you can walk the interior circumference of the old portion of the city, which is littered with red rooftops.
It was pretty and I took heaps of pictures. I came back to the hostel at night and did end up meeting some people, but I secretly didn't care much for them. They were a few years younger than me, and to save money, they had been stealing all their food and booze throughout the trip. But, I had nothing else to do, so I ended up hanging out with them all night. I also met this other girl while I was eating alone at a restaurant one night — I noticed she was also eating alone and asked if she wanted to eat together — and although she was perfectly nice and we ended up drinking together that night in the company of strange old men, I was just something to do to pass the time. I still felt so lonely, even though I was meeting all these people.
Then I met this girl who was staying in the same hostel as I was. She was a few years older than me and had been WOOFing her way across Eastern Europe. She was a super interesting person, very laid back and interested in sustainability and organic farming (that's what WOOFing is all about). She was interested in going to visit the walled city, and asked if I had been yet and would like to join her. I lied and said no, I hadn't been, but wanted to. I paid once again to visit the old city, really because this was the first person I met in Croatia who I connected with, and I wanted to hold onto that. It wasn't even like we were super chatty and were discovering so much about each other. In fact, much of our time visiting this site was spent in silence as we took in what was around us. We stopped to rest and she took out cheese and bread from her bag and offered me some. I knew she was broke because she had told me, but I felt it rude to reject her gift, so I enjoyed lunch with her. My second visit to the walled city was a much more enjoyable experience than the first because I had someone to share it with.
We didn't spend more than that day together. One of us had to leave, so we just exchanged CouchSurfing usernames, not even emails. I remember I immediately sent her a friend request and left a comment on her page for everyone to see about how much I enjoyed her company. But she never accepted my friend request, I assumed because she was traveling so much with so little access to Internet.
What really gets me is now, I don't even remember her name. All I remember is how much meeting her meant to me, pulling me out of the throes of loneliness, even just for a few hours. I wish I could find a way to thank her one more time.
My 10-day Croatia trip in 2008 was a big independent woman voyage for me. I was going solo, plus I was trying CouchSurfing for the first time, plus I was going to be making all my travel arrangements on the fly once I got there. It was the kind of trip mean to empower single ladies across the planet!The whole thing went fine with generally no problems. I had lots of experiences that'll stay with me forever, but for the purpose of this post I'll talk about this girl I met.
Traveling alone is empowering and all, you can do what YOU want to do and not have to compromise with anyone. You can spend your money how you want to spend it, linger in one place for longer or leave another place sooner without consulting anyone. But, it can get lonely. I think I'm pretty independent, but even I got lonely.
I was staying at this hostel in Dubrovnik and was hoping to meet some people my age to explore with. I didn't have much luck, so I headed to the walled city to explore it in the company of thousands of other strangers. The walls that were built to protect the city in the 12th to 17th century still stand, and you can walk the interior circumference of the old portion of the city, which is littered with red rooftops.
It was pretty and I took heaps of pictures. I came back to the hostel at night and did end up meeting some people, but I secretly didn't care much for them. They were a few years younger than me, and to save money, they had been stealing all their food and booze throughout the trip. But, I had nothing else to do, so I ended up hanging out with them all night. I also met this other girl while I was eating alone at a restaurant one night — I noticed she was also eating alone and asked if she wanted to eat together — and although she was perfectly nice and we ended up drinking together that night in the company of strange old men, I was just something to do to pass the time. I still felt so lonely, even though I was meeting all these people.
Then I met this girl who was staying in the same hostel as I was. She was a few years older than me and had been WOOFing her way across Eastern Europe. She was a super interesting person, very laid back and interested in sustainability and organic farming (that's what WOOFing is all about). She was interested in going to visit the walled city, and asked if I had been yet and would like to join her. I lied and said no, I hadn't been, but wanted to. I paid once again to visit the old city, really because this was the first person I met in Croatia who I connected with, and I wanted to hold onto that. It wasn't even like we were super chatty and were discovering so much about each other. In fact, much of our time visiting this site was spent in silence as we took in what was around us. We stopped to rest and she took out cheese and bread from her bag and offered me some. I knew she was broke because she had told me, but I felt it rude to reject her gift, so I enjoyed lunch with her. My second visit to the walled city was a much more enjoyable experience than the first because I had someone to share it with.
We didn't spend more than that day together. One of us had to leave, so we just exchanged CouchSurfing usernames, not even emails. I remember I immediately sent her a friend request and left a comment on her page for everyone to see about how much I enjoyed her company. But she never accepted my friend request, I assumed because she was traveling so much with so little access to Internet.
What really gets me is now, I don't even remember her name. All I remember is how much meeting her meant to me, pulling me out of the throes of loneliness, even just for a few hours. I wish I could find a way to thank her one more time.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
$23,000 Poorer
I stopped in Amish Healthy Foods this week to use a Groupon that was expiring soon. It is a small grocery with organic meat and dairy and some vegetables and non-perishable items. As I was getting together my items at the register, I asked the woman how the Groupon was going. She turned out to be the owner. She didn't have many positive things to say about it.
She said she had lost $23,000.
Everything else she said, I had heard before. For each $30 coupon that Groupon cutomers purchased for $15, she only got $7.50. According to the deal on Groupon, 960 people bought it, but she could count on one hand the number of customers who came back. People were stingy. If their total was $32, they wanted to swap out an item to bring the total down to $30. This is familiar.
But that a business owner lost $23,000 because she partnered with Groupon? That leaves a horrible taste in my mouth. I have never felt so guilty to use a Groupon as I did this time. As I was saving $15, she was losing way more.
She told me not to worry about it, that it wasn't my fault. She didn't blame the customers. She understood how the deal worked. She was just glad it was ending soon. The Groupon was expiring in 2 weeks, and she could go back to life as normal.
My total was $40, and she asked me if I wanted to put something back so I wouldn't have to spend more than the total of the Groupon. I insisted that I wanted to buy all these things, which included fresh sausage, wine cheddar cheese, steaks, and bacon. I told her that I wanted to support her business and that I would come back, because I was trying to spend more money on good quality meat. I could tell she didn't believe me, that it didn't matter how good my intentions were. She did not expect to see me ever again.
I will be back. I really think I will. I don't buy meat at the grocery store for all those do-gooder reasons, and I rarely shop at Whole Foods because it's too far, and I end up putting too much in my shopping cart there, then end up having buyer's remorse. This place is smaller, with just the basics, and it's just a few minutes out of my way on the way home from work.
I will be one of the few who returns to give her my full-price business not just to prove her wrong, but because I want to shop there. So she's got one customer on which the Groupon worked its magic, because I would have never known this place existed if it weren't for the Groupon. But I'm just one customer who doesn't even have a family to feed. There's nothing I can personally do to make up the $23,000 she lost.
She said she had lost $23,000.
Everything else she said, I had heard before. For each $30 coupon that Groupon cutomers purchased for $15, she only got $7.50. According to the deal on Groupon, 960 people bought it, but she could count on one hand the number of customers who came back. People were stingy. If their total was $32, they wanted to swap out an item to bring the total down to $30. This is familiar.
But that a business owner lost $23,000 because she partnered with Groupon? That leaves a horrible taste in my mouth. I have never felt so guilty to use a Groupon as I did this time. As I was saving $15, she was losing way more.
She told me not to worry about it, that it wasn't my fault. She didn't blame the customers. She understood how the deal worked. She was just glad it was ending soon. The Groupon was expiring in 2 weeks, and she could go back to life as normal.
My total was $40, and she asked me if I wanted to put something back so I wouldn't have to spend more than the total of the Groupon. I insisted that I wanted to buy all these things, which included fresh sausage, wine cheddar cheese, steaks, and bacon. I told her that I wanted to support her business and that I would come back, because I was trying to spend more money on good quality meat. I could tell she didn't believe me, that it didn't matter how good my intentions were. She did not expect to see me ever again.
I will be back. I really think I will. I don't buy meat at the grocery store for all those do-gooder reasons, and I rarely shop at Whole Foods because it's too far, and I end up putting too much in my shopping cart there, then end up having buyer's remorse. This place is smaller, with just the basics, and it's just a few minutes out of my way on the way home from work.
I will be one of the few who returns to give her my full-price business not just to prove her wrong, but because I want to shop there. So she's got one customer on which the Groupon worked its magic, because I would have never known this place existed if it weren't for the Groupon. But I'm just one customer who doesn't even have a family to feed. There's nothing I can personally do to make up the $23,000 she lost.
Some of Them Had Blogs
I listen to WBEZ, Chicago's NPR station, most mornings. The other day I heard a particularly disturbing story: Air Force Admits Losing Remains At Dover Mortuary. Body parts of servicemen have been lost at the Delaware Mortuary. Mortuary workers also sawed off a U.S. Marine's arm so he could be placed into his uniform and then placed in his casket. I know. It's disgusting in every sense of the meaning of that word.
And then, the Air Force didn't tell the families, even though they found out about it and took the allegations "seriously." These things happened in 2009 and 2010, and the families were notified just this last weekend. Last March, the Office of Special Council asked the Air Force to talk to the families, and then asked them again recently. Why hadn't they? "Their response was that these families, some of them had blogs; they couldn't be trusted - that they might go to the media."
That quote made me so mad. You are allowed to know the mortuary effed with your family member's body, but only if you don't have a big fat blogger mouth and can keep it a secret. Because those people who blog about their personal lives — how ANNOYING — will probably blog about how we sawed off their family member's arm. It's best to just keep this one in the top secret file. We can't let word get out on the blogs!
It's ignorant of the Air Force to assume the family members with blogs would even would want to blog about it. I have no idea how I would react if I found out this had happened to the body of someone close to me. Would I blog about it? I don't know. Why should it matter if I have a blog or am connected to the media? What matters is that the stupid Air Force protects their stupid image.
Happy Veterans Day. I'm glad our country has so much respect for the families of our dead servicemen and what they have provided for us.
And then, the Air Force didn't tell the families, even though they found out about it and took the allegations "seriously." These things happened in 2009 and 2010, and the families were notified just this last weekend. Last March, the Office of Special Council asked the Air Force to talk to the families, and then asked them again recently. Why hadn't they? "Their response was that these families, some of them had blogs; they couldn't be trusted - that they might go to the media."
That quote made me so mad. You are allowed to know the mortuary effed with your family member's body, but only if you don't have a big fat blogger mouth and can keep it a secret. Because those people who blog about their personal lives — how ANNOYING — will probably blog about how we sawed off their family member's arm. It's best to just keep this one in the top secret file. We can't let word get out on the blogs!
It's ignorant of the Air Force to assume the family members with blogs would even would want to blog about it. I have no idea how I would react if I found out this had happened to the body of someone close to me. Would I blog about it? I don't know. Why should it matter if I have a blog or am connected to the media? What matters is that the stupid Air Force protects their stupid image.
Happy Veterans Day. I'm glad our country has so much respect for the families of our dead servicemen and what they have provided for us.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
#5 Kindness
I'm participating in the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #5: KINDNESS. One of the greatest joys of travel can be the random acts of kindness you’ll receive from total strangers. Have you ever found kindness from strangers in unexpected places?
I have met many, many kind people while traveling. I often wonder if I could ever reciprocate. Like CouchSurfing, for example. I surfed a couple of couches in Croatia a couple years ago, and I could not believe how generous and welcoming these people were. They fed me, gave me a place to sleep, and one guy even drove me a couple hours to the next town on his way to work. Or this other backpacker I met in Croatia, we visited the walled city of Dubrovnik together. And she shared her Gouda cheese with me for lunch. There are not many people I would share cheese with, and a stranger is not one of them. That sounds like a joke, but it's not really. I especially like cheese.
Anyway, I think about CouchSurfing. I can't host people now, since I live with two other roommates and two cats. But one day, I'll live alone. Would I open my home to strangers and pay forward the kindness other strangers have paid me? I'd like to think I would, but it's a lot to think about. And perhaps there are other ways to make strangers to Chicago feel more at home. I would be lying if I said I didn't know where to start looking; there is the Internet.
Writing this post is making me feel guilty about how little I've tried to seek out foreigners to my city who could really use some local advice and help. I think about all the kind things people have done for me in France, and all those times I promised myself I would be the same kind of person when I was back in America. It's so easy to get caught up in your day-to-day life and forget that all the things that come naturally to you are challenges for other people. Like paperwork, or opening a bank account, or finding an apartment, or explaining why the El goes in a circle downtown. Kindess doesn't necessarily mean giving someone a place to sleep. It can mean a lot of things.
I have met many, many kind people while traveling. I often wonder if I could ever reciprocate. Like CouchSurfing, for example. I surfed a couple of couches in Croatia a couple years ago, and I could not believe how generous and welcoming these people were. They fed me, gave me a place to sleep, and one guy even drove me a couple hours to the next town on his way to work. Or this other backpacker I met in Croatia, we visited the walled city of Dubrovnik together. And she shared her Gouda cheese with me for lunch. There are not many people I would share cheese with, and a stranger is not one of them. That sounds like a joke, but it's not really. I especially like cheese.
Anyway, I think about CouchSurfing. I can't host people now, since I live with two other roommates and two cats. But one day, I'll live alone. Would I open my home to strangers and pay forward the kindness other strangers have paid me? I'd like to think I would, but it's a lot to think about. And perhaps there are other ways to make strangers to Chicago feel more at home. I would be lying if I said I didn't know where to start looking; there is the Internet.
Writing this post is making me feel guilty about how little I've tried to seek out foreigners to my city who could really use some local advice and help. I think about all the kind things people have done for me in France, and all those times I promised myself I would be the same kind of person when I was back in America. It's so easy to get caught up in your day-to-day life and forget that all the things that come naturally to you are challenges for other people. Like paperwork, or opening a bank account, or finding an apartment, or explaining why the El goes in a circle downtown. Kindess doesn't necessarily mean giving someone a place to sleep. It can mean a lot of things.
Monday, November 07, 2011
#6 Fear
I'm participating in the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #6: FEAR. Just as travel can be fun and exciting, it can also have its challenging, or even downright scary, moments. Being in a new place pushes us out of our comfort zone and makes us face our fears. Tell about a time you had to face your fear when traveling, and what was the result.
I'm not a very nervous traveler, not in general. What does make me nervous is the very start of a trip. I'm always nervous about having everything ready and getting to point A on time. So for this Europe trip, for example, our flight was at 5 p.m. on a Friday. I left work at noon to make sure I had everything ready. Of course I did. I had packed Wednesday. So all there was to do for me at home was to pace nervously around my apartment with the Swiffer until it was time to leave for the airport. Then I go to the airport and the security lines for domestic flights were the longest I have ever seen in my entire life, so many people spilling out from the lines that people just walking through had difficulty getting past. This is O'Hare, a giant airport, where there's plenty of space for waiting in line, so it was pretty extreme. There was no way anyone was getting through those in less than an hour. Although we were obviously flying out of the international terminal that has its own lines, still, this was a sign that the airport was packed.
Our flight was in 2 hours and Jake wasn't there yet. I started to become irrationally afraid. What if he didn't make it on time? What if we couldn't get through security on time? What if the plane left for France without us? I couldn't concentrate on anything except for the feeling of fear in my stomach until Jake arrived to the airport, 1.5 hours before our flight, plenty of time to check our bags, go through international security (which took all of 5 minutes), buy food, and sit and wait for an hour by our gate for our flight.
Once I make it safely and soundly to the first leg of a trip, I don't care anymore. We had three more flights on this trip — to and from Berlin and then back to Chicago — and I was never nervous about those. In fact, we could have been late for a couple of those. We took the wrong direction on the train en route to the Berlin airport (my fault), so lost a few minutes there. And at Charles de Gaulle, they were pretty understaffed, so we spent a lot of time waiting in lines. We made it to the gate with only a few minutes to spare.
Maybe I don't worry about this stuff once the trip gets started because I wouldn't mind so much getting stuck or delayed in Paris or Berlin. It could be a fun adventure, and I'd get to stay a tad bit longer. To get stuck in Chicago when I'm trying to leave it for a vacation... that would not be the slightest bit of fun.
I'm not a very nervous traveler, not in general. What does make me nervous is the very start of a trip. I'm always nervous about having everything ready and getting to point A on time. So for this Europe trip, for example, our flight was at 5 p.m. on a Friday. I left work at noon to make sure I had everything ready. Of course I did. I had packed Wednesday. So all there was to do for me at home was to pace nervously around my apartment with the Swiffer until it was time to leave for the airport. Then I go to the airport and the security lines for domestic flights were the longest I have ever seen in my entire life, so many people spilling out from the lines that people just walking through had difficulty getting past. This is O'Hare, a giant airport, where there's plenty of space for waiting in line, so it was pretty extreme. There was no way anyone was getting through those in less than an hour. Although we were obviously flying out of the international terminal that has its own lines, still, this was a sign that the airport was packed.
Our flight was in 2 hours and Jake wasn't there yet. I started to become irrationally afraid. What if he didn't make it on time? What if we couldn't get through security on time? What if the plane left for France without us? I couldn't concentrate on anything except for the feeling of fear in my stomach until Jake arrived to the airport, 1.5 hours before our flight, plenty of time to check our bags, go through international security (which took all of 5 minutes), buy food, and sit and wait for an hour by our gate for our flight.
Once I make it safely and soundly to the first leg of a trip, I don't care anymore. We had three more flights on this trip — to and from Berlin and then back to Chicago — and I was never nervous about those. In fact, we could have been late for a couple of those. We took the wrong direction on the train en route to the Berlin airport (my fault), so lost a few minutes there. And at Charles de Gaulle, they were pretty understaffed, so we spent a lot of time waiting in lines. We made it to the gate with only a few minutes to spare.
Maybe I don't worry about this stuff once the trip gets started because I wouldn't mind so much getting stuck or delayed in Paris or Berlin. It could be a fun adventure, and I'd get to stay a tad bit longer. To get stuck in Chicago when I'm trying to leave it for a vacation... that would not be the slightest bit of fun.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
#4 Mistakes
I'm participating in the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #4: MISTAKES. Everyone makes mistakes. We forget to ask for Coke without ice in Mexico and spend the rest of the trip in the bathroom. Or we arrive at the airport for a 7pm flight only to realize the flight left at 7am. Tell us the story of your worst travel mistake.
We were meeting people for dinner at 7, right by the Eiffel Tower. It was 5. It was a pretty nice day out, and the Eiffel Tower was close. "Let's walk to the Eiffel Tower," I sugested. "It's only about a 20-minute walk. We'll have time to go up and then we can go to dinner. They live just a few minutes away." Jake said okay. A 20-minute walk isn't bad, right? Along the way we could take some photos and see more of Paris.
The 20-minute walked turned into a 45-minute walk turned into a 1.5-hour walk. Somewhere along the way, Jake stopped trusting me that it was a 20-minute walk. First he didn't say anything. We just continued to walk in silence, and Paris started to feel miserable. It was SO close though, we were almost there. We could see it. Except, just because you can see the Eiffel Tower doesn't mean you're anywhere close to it.
Jake finally asked if I had looked at a map before I decided it was a 20-minute walk. No, because I knew how to get there. But I am not good with distances. I know Paris well, but I used to bike everywhere. It was probably a 20-minute bike ride from where we were. Which is not the same thing as a 20-minute walk. We finally get there, and Jake is miserable, which makes me miserable. He'd been feeling sick all day, and started complaining about his rotator cuff hurting too, and decided he was not going to go to dinner and would just go back to the hotel and sleep. Even worse, we had no time to go up in the Eiffel Tower. It was 6:45 by this point.
We were both grumpy, so we just sat on a bench with our backs to the stupid Eiffel Tower and didn't talk. It's supposed to be this romantic thing, this Eiffel Tower. But, no, not at this time. I made a mistake and I was mad at myself and Jake was mad at me too. Plus, he wasn't coming to dinner to meet some good friends of mine and probably wouldn't have the chance to meet them ever again. Blerg.
Jake finally agreed to drag himself to dinner, because it's not like he's in Paris that often. On our way there, we walked past a pharamacy, so I was able to pick him up some drugs. He said he instantly felt better after taking the mystery pills and dinner was really, really great. We went to a Japanese restaurant with two of the families I used to babysit for. They're awesome and their kids are awesome, too. It was just one of those dinners where everyone is having a good time and it's over before it even started. Jake also tried his first piece of sushi and liked it, SUCCESS (I've been trying to get him to try sushi for 4 years)! He even talked about going to Coast when we got back, a swanky sushi place by where we live in Chicago. We were sad to say goodbye after dinner, but everyone was in high spirits.
Afterwards we walked back to the Eiffel Tower. We were too tired to go up and it was too dark to get a couplely picture in front of it. But we enjoyed watching it glitter, all romantic-like, and I was happy I had brought someone with me to Paris who forgives me for my mistakes.
We were meeting people for dinner at 7, right by the Eiffel Tower. It was 5. It was a pretty nice day out, and the Eiffel Tower was close. "Let's walk to the Eiffel Tower," I sugested. "It's only about a 20-minute walk. We'll have time to go up and then we can go to dinner. They live just a few minutes away." Jake said okay. A 20-minute walk isn't bad, right? Along the way we could take some photos and see more of Paris.
The 20-minute walked turned into a 45-minute walk turned into a 1.5-hour walk. Somewhere along the way, Jake stopped trusting me that it was a 20-minute walk. First he didn't say anything. We just continued to walk in silence, and Paris started to feel miserable. It was SO close though, we were almost there. We could see it. Except, just because you can see the Eiffel Tower doesn't mean you're anywhere close to it.
Jake finally asked if I had looked at a map before I decided it was a 20-minute walk. No, because I knew how to get there. But I am not good with distances. I know Paris well, but I used to bike everywhere. It was probably a 20-minute bike ride from where we were. Which is not the same thing as a 20-minute walk. We finally get there, and Jake is miserable, which makes me miserable. He'd been feeling sick all day, and started complaining about his rotator cuff hurting too, and decided he was not going to go to dinner and would just go back to the hotel and sleep. Even worse, we had no time to go up in the Eiffel Tower. It was 6:45 by this point.
We were both grumpy, so we just sat on a bench with our backs to the stupid Eiffel Tower and didn't talk. It's supposed to be this romantic thing, this Eiffel Tower. But, no, not at this time. I made a mistake and I was mad at myself and Jake was mad at me too. Plus, he wasn't coming to dinner to meet some good friends of mine and probably wouldn't have the chance to meet them ever again. Blerg.
Jake finally agreed to drag himself to dinner, because it's not like he's in Paris that often. On our way there, we walked past a pharamacy, so I was able to pick him up some drugs. He said he instantly felt better after taking the mystery pills and dinner was really, really great. We went to a Japanese restaurant with two of the families I used to babysit for. They're awesome and their kids are awesome, too. It was just one of those dinners where everyone is having a good time and it's over before it even started. Jake also tried his first piece of sushi and liked it, SUCCESS (I've been trying to get him to try sushi for 4 years)! He even talked about going to Coast when we got back, a swanky sushi place by where we live in Chicago. We were sad to say goodbye after dinner, but everyone was in high spirits.
Afterwards we walked back to the Eiffel Tower. We were too tired to go up and it was too dark to get a couplely picture in front of it. But we enjoyed watching it glitter, all romantic-like, and I was happy I had brought someone with me to Paris who forgives me for my mistakes.
Friday, November 04, 2011
One of my Favorites
There are a few things that I'll always visit every time I go to Paris, and Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart) is one. Of all the churches I've ever visted, this one is still my favorite, even though it's crawling with tourists, every single one of them taking the same pictures. There's always some guy playing pop songs on the guitar, and those weird dudes trying to tie strings around your wrists and scam you out of all your euro coins. But still, I find it beautiful despite all these annoyances.If you've ever been to Europe — or just seen pictures of it — you'll know that every country has tons of amazing old churches and cathedrals. Unfortunately, they lose their impact because there are so many of them. After awhile, all the churches look the same. I like Sacre Coeur so much because it's so much different than the rest. The basilica is always bright white, even after 100 years of weathering and polution, because it's built from travertine stone, which exudes calcite (that's what Wikipedia said). Also, it's built on the highest point in Paris, so it has a great view of the city.
Sacre Coeur never loses its magnificence to me, and it doesn't hurt that it's in Montmartre, where a lot of Amelie was filmed. I would have loved if our hotel had been in this area. Although parts of it can be a little sketchy, I love the tiny windy streets with bistros and cafes. Also, a lot of souvenir shops, but you can try to ignore those. This is where Jake tried his first crepe and liked it! A small victory.
Thursday, November 03, 2011
#2 Embracing Change
I'm participating in the 30 Days of Indie Travel Challenge on BootsnAll. Prompt #2: EMBRACING CHANGE. Change can be exciting and bring new joys into our lives. But it can present challenges that frustrate or annoy us. How has travel changed you in the last year? Did you welcome these changes or resist them at the time, and how do you feel about them now?
I've been wanting to take up more freelance work ever since I knew freelancing was a thing. And I never really did not because I didn't think I was good enough, but because I didn't know where to start. But a few months ago, when I started planning some trips and realized I didn't really want to wipe my savings clean, I started pursuing more freelance stuff.
Freelancing's hard, with more dead ends than leads. A lot of people don't need you right now, but maybe later. A lot of projects are one-time only, or the money runs out and they end. Working with some companies just plain sucks because they're unorganized or don't really know what they're doing. And in the work I've done, I'm usually paid a flat fee for one piece, which may sound like a fair price at the start, but that doesn't include the amount of time you spend researching.
But, I'm not complaining. Those are just realities. And even if a company's difficult to work for and I may never write for them again because they sucked so hard, frankly, I'm happy to have the $300 check from it. Because that's one round-trip domestic flight (if I fly Southwest and book my ticket far enough in advance).
My travel aspirations haven't changed the way I write, but they have changed the way I pursue being a writer. I was terrified of being rejected before, but now, it's just part of the business. In fact, I expect to be rejected by most of the clients I pitch. But you'll never know unless you ask.
I'm not making bank as a freelancer or anything. My full-time job comes first, so that restricts the amount of time I can spend writing other stuff and researching clients and projects to seek out. But I've done about 100% more freelance stuff than I did last year, which means I'm writing more and learning more and earning more and even though it sounds laughable, improving my Google rankings (if you don't think that's important, then get off the Internet).
It helps having a goal. I have a purpose for waking up at 6 a.m. This money's going to flying to Seattle for my sister's graduation, or a dinner with my friend Megan whenever I make it to Dallas or a road trip with my friend Lucy whenever I make it to New Zealand. Having this idea of where the money is going definitely helps, and even if I am just getting a $50 check for something that took a few hours, it's $50 more than I didn't have. And $50 checks add up, right?
The only thing I don't look forward to is tax season in April...
I've been wanting to take up more freelance work ever since I knew freelancing was a thing. And I never really did not because I didn't think I was good enough, but because I didn't know where to start. But a few months ago, when I started planning some trips and realized I didn't really want to wipe my savings clean, I started pursuing more freelance stuff.
Freelancing's hard, with more dead ends than leads. A lot of people don't need you right now, but maybe later. A lot of projects are one-time only, or the money runs out and they end. Working with some companies just plain sucks because they're unorganized or don't really know what they're doing. And in the work I've done, I'm usually paid a flat fee for one piece, which may sound like a fair price at the start, but that doesn't include the amount of time you spend researching.
But, I'm not complaining. Those are just realities. And even if a company's difficult to work for and I may never write for them again because they sucked so hard, frankly, I'm happy to have the $300 check from it. Because that's one round-trip domestic flight (if I fly Southwest and book my ticket far enough in advance).
My travel aspirations haven't changed the way I write, but they have changed the way I pursue being a writer. I was terrified of being rejected before, but now, it's just part of the business. In fact, I expect to be rejected by most of the clients I pitch. But you'll never know unless you ask.
I'm not making bank as a freelancer or anything. My full-time job comes first, so that restricts the amount of time I can spend writing other stuff and researching clients and projects to seek out. But I've done about 100% more freelance stuff than I did last year, which means I'm writing more and learning more and earning more and even though it sounds laughable, improving my Google rankings (if you don't think that's important, then get off the Internet).
It helps having a goal. I have a purpose for waking up at 6 a.m. This money's going to flying to Seattle for my sister's graduation, or a dinner with my friend Megan whenever I make it to Dallas or a road trip with my friend Lucy whenever I make it to New Zealand. Having this idea of where the money is going definitely helps, and even if I am just getting a $50 check for something that took a few hours, it's $50 more than I didn't have. And $50 checks add up, right?
The only thing I don't look forward to is tax season in April...
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