The day I snuck onto a British fuel tanker ship

NATO- Watch out. Your defense isn’t too tough to crack! This was one of the coolest things I've done here. And pretty easy to sneak on. Once I was on I met a lot of really nice British guys who kept asking “How in the world did you get on here?” My only guess is that because I was wearing a navy and white striped shirt the Dominica security thought I was supposed to be going on the boat. I always have loved nautical clothes.

  

Anyway, so once I was on, I made a friend with the coolest guy, Scooby. He had lots of tattoos and a big gold hoop earring like a pirate! He took me all around the ship and let me wear the captain’s cap and sit in the captain’s seat (because the captain was gone scuba diving.) I think I took a few too many pictures of the computer screens because at one point this guy came up and told Scooby to tell me to quit, but didn’t make me delete the photos of the maps and stuff... I guess for the safety of the free world I wont post them. 

  

The guys on the ship were all civilians, 4 months on and 3 months off, they just refuel British and Dutch and American boats(and probably other countries, those were just the ones that were mentioned). On the ship is something like 600 thousand kilos of fuel (how many gallons is that?) They were supposed to stop in Venezuela but because of a tropical storm they came here instead. They don't usually spend much time docked, but just floating around the ocean on behalf of NATO, this trip's goal or focus was on tropical storm/ hurricane response, but they have other assignments. On the ship I got to see the karaoke bar and the library. I asked and they said there was only one girl on the boat, I feel sorry for her! I got to see their rooms and I think they are nicer than my apartment here. (Scoobys was covered with naked girl posters.) Of course I asked how the fuel boat gets fuel, and a guy named Nigel said Guantanamo Bay I think, but it was really hard to understand him. He said they could fuel up in Roseau but it would cost "me arm and me leg."

Darwin Does Dominica

Full disclosure: Mom told me I was free to blog about their island vacation, so to be fair, I am not saying anything I wouldn’t want them to read. Maybe this will encourage Daddy to read at least one of my posts!

To begin, I was absolutely ecstatic my parents came for 5 nights and I wanted to take them all around the island. The former scheduler in me kicked in and I organized an itinerary, made reservations, rented an SUV (with enough leg room for Daddy and 4 wheel drive for the bumpy Dominican roads), got the maps, researched activities and restaurants and things they would find interesting. We used that schedule for about… the first 12 hours.

They arrive Wednesday evening and we start off the trip at Fort Young Hotel. In Dominica its luxury, but the inside of the rooms are like a very nice, typical American hotel for a little over $150 a night. It’s where my friends stayed, it’s where I sneak in to use the gym and the pool, it’s got the best restaurant in town, you get the picture. Dinner the first night was about $400 EC for four people. I saw his eyes bulge out and reminded him it was in EC so he could divide by 3- that’s a great deal for dinner for four.

Thursday morning we wake up to go fishing and after 5 unsuccessful but sunny hours. I caught a sunburn and Daddy caught a Spanish Mackrel. Looking back, I think I should have saved the fishing for the end of the trip to give him something to really look forward to. After the fishing we went to the bank to exchange some money. My dad’s a banker, nothing slips by him. He figured out that you divide EC by 2.6, not 3. So he figured out how much dinner last night actually cost. That night I took them to a place where the steak tenderloin was served sliced and pounded like chicken piccata. Oops. Once again bill came and I reminded him, “Divide by 2.6 Daddy.” I could feel his blood pressure lower, but no more extravagant experimental restaurants.

At lunch on Friday I introduced Momma and Daddy to a man I had met, Valter from Brazil. Daddy said, “Invite him to sit with us, I hear there is really good bird hunting in Brazil!” Side note- often Daddy complains that I talk to fast, I get carried away and ramble on and he cannot understand me. Valter was the EXACT opposite. He spoke very clear, and very slow. So slow in fact, that you wanted to slap him and tell him to spit it out already! After a loooong leisurely lunch with Valter we left Roseau to explore the island. That was the day I came to the realization that paying more does not equate getting more. The exotic jungle resort I had booked for us turned out to be a very chicly decorated treehouse with no AC and an outside shower. Momma and I were ecstatic about doing yoga in the jungle, but my Dad is the kind of man that likes to unwind with cable TV and CNN, not a hammock tied to a palm tree. He made the best of the situation. “I’m in Alaska, going trout fishing in the morning,” he said. Momma made friends with the cute Dominican cultural show performers that entertained us after dinner and we went to sleep in our treehouse with a nice breeze and all the doors and windows open… until a torrential downpour woke us up at 3 a.m. I’ll be honest; I like a tin roof when it rains, but that’s a tin roof over a ceiling insulated on a house- this was a piece of tin protecting us from literally a tropical storm. “I’m in Canada,” Daddy said, “I’m going bear hunting in the morning,” he kept telling himself.

One night in the jungle was enough for us so we packed up early Saturday morning and decided to hit a scenic waterfall and do some hiking. I had my maps, I asked directions, and we took off to see Sui Sui Falls. “Ask directions, Dominicans are very friendly” everyone says. The first time we pulled over for directions to the falls a toothless man with a machete replied “Chicken?” I kid you not. I repeat- we asked for directions, he asked us “Chicken?” Two more stops for directions and we ended up with our own tour guide, Dean. Dean was also toothless but a lot more helpful than the chicken man and took us into the jungle to see a waterfall and even served us coconut water! Poor Momma had to sit in the backseat with Dean, and his scent lingered after we dropped him off. Truth be told, we didn’t actually make it to the waterfall because after a 45 minute climb down a mountain and crossing one part of the river in our socks and shoes, the rain started and Dean advised against chancing the river being too high to re-cross. I looked at Daddy in his soaking wet tennis shoes and socks and he smiled and said, “I’m elk hunting in Colorado.” We stopped at a place to dry off after the falls, low and behold- there was Valter!!! He was doing a little exploring himself and was so excited to see us he wanted to tag along for the rest of the day, but we couldn’t handle him literally slowing us down so we left him there. Since we left the jungle we needed to find another place to stay, we stopped at a place on the opposite side of the island but upon speaking to the Manager he said he had one room left, and he said a gentleman from Brazil was coming to take it. Valter!!! What a small island. You know where we finally ended up? Back at Fort Young in Roseau. That night Daddy’s steak was served in one piece and we went to bed with air conditioning.

Sunday morning I went to go meet my parents for breakfast and came to find Valter sitting at the table for three. I’d been booted out. Anyway, considering the wonderful time I had with my friends at Trafalgar falls, and the funny hiking experience Dean took us on Saturday, I wanted to take my parents to what I believe are the most beautiful spot on the island- Trafalgar Falls. They loved the majesty of the twin falls and we pool hopped from ice cold spring water to boiling hot sulpher water and really made the most of the day. Momma was so cute jumping from rock to rock and Daddy sat back and relaxed in the clean water. After a delicious lunch with an amazing view and gardens and landscaping to explore, we crossed the jungle again, getting closer the airport so we wouldn’t have too long of a drive before their trip. I think after 4 days I finally learned how to drive on the left side of the road- only go 15 miles per hour! That way you can avoid all the speed bumps and don’t have to ever slam on your breaks when a bus flies at you around a hairpin curve!

I was proud of my parents when they surprised me at the villa in Scandicci outside of Florence, Italy (they navigated the bus system all by their-selves) and we spent the night on the Eurail together. I really put them through a work out in DC when I drug them through every Smithsonian and to every single monument in one day, while in their dress clothes. But, I have to say, this trip was definitely the best! We talked about politics, religion, culture, Vietnam, and relationships, and learned a bit more about compromise and compassion towards each other. Wonderful trip! I spoke to them on Skype once they were home and you wanna know who they both asked about, their new BFF Valter! Maybe their next vacation will be to Brazil!

The reggae is going to get you

If I had to make the analogy, I would have to say that the city of Roseau bleeds reggae. Music pours from bongos on the street corners, radios blast from home windows, ringtones chime in restaurants at dinner, and loudspeakers amplify until it’s like the entire town is hooked up to the same station and everyone is just singing different parts of Red Red Wine all day and all night. 

My very first day, my very first taxi driver said “You like reggae?” I looked under Genres on my iPod and found I have two Reggae artists- Bob Marley and Toots and the Maytals. That’s enough, right? I had no idea the music would soon consume my life. Anyone want to guess how many different versions of By the Rivers of Babylon are out there? Because I swear I’ve heard at least 10 recorded, and every week at Happy Hour a local band does a new twist on it. Don’t feel sorry for Shaggy, apparently he wasn’t a one hit wonder down after all; he has tons of popular songs down here. I think in the last two months I’ve heard Wasn’t Me as many times as I did the entire year it was released- Y2K! 

So even though my neighbors thought it appropriate to blare their speakers at 7:30 a.m. this morning to Hold Ya by Gyptian, and the pool hall across from my office plays it approximately 5 times a day, for the last WEEK I’ve been singing to myself “Girl I’m gonna make you sweat, sweat till you can’t sweat no more” I know it’s probably has a dirty meaning, but since it’s so hot and humid in the Caribbean I really think Inner Circle originally wrote the song was talking about how sweaty everyone is here. 

Please take a moment and watch the video, Inner Circle: Sweat (A La La La La Long) its sure to put you in a great mood, taking it back to early 90’s VH1 with the girl’s high cut bikini bottoms and those round John Lennon sunglasses. And give you a teeny tiny glimpse of life in Roseau, with everyone’s long dreads and hundreds of ceiling fans! Hopefully you won’t be singing "a la la la long long long long time” for the rest of the day like me!

My products

Considering Delta’s one suitcase at 50 pounds limit I thought I did a good job packing for this trip. I mean, I had to roll up ten weeks worth of mix and match clothes, bathing suits, workout clothes, tank tops, grey, pink, navy, and khaki shorts, books, snorkeling gear, outlet adaptors, notepads, pens, wrinkle releaser, tennis shoes, dressy sandals, casual sandals, hiking sandals, etcetera. I thought I covered everything. Elizabeth and I sat in my bedroom surrounded by clothes and talked about each item and how practical or multipurposeful it could be. I planned for a hot weather and hiking and rain and yes- even sitting in the office doing my project!



It's like my head was in a fog though, I never really thought about the most important things to a girl: PRODUCTS! You know- the first 8 aisles on the left when you walk into Target. I guess I thought I could live simply this summer makeup and product free, just a little mascara, chapstick, no name shampoo, and regular ole' Colgate toothpaste. I mean, you don’t need all that extra stuff, right? My bathroom at home is like my very own Bath and Body Works. I know it’s a little excessive, but that’s why I was looking forward to a bit of a simpler summer- just me and a bar of soap more or less...


Well, I lasted about a week before I realized my eyebrows were getting out of control. I started missing the nights where I would stay in and watch reality TV with my Crest whitestips and my Biore porestrips and give myself a pedicure with those little separators stuck in between each toe. Then one evening after a long hike and before a quick dinner, I decided to just shower in my friend Kat’s hotel room (since she had hot water and a blowdryer, two things I was seriously missing) and I walked in to a little wonderland. Moisturizing makeup remover towlettes, peppermint scented body oil, leave in deep conditioner, all the stuff that takes girls an hour to get ready for a date when a guy can be ready in 15 minutes. I used her grapefruit scrub on my elbows and followed the directions on the leave in scalp treatment while I plucked my eyebrows and lathered up with body cream (which is so much better than regular lotion.)


Before I go on, I know you are thinking- Dominica isn’t the Sahara or the Amazon. I should be able to find a pharmacy or a grocery store to stock up on essentials. But that’s where I know I’m a spoiled American brat. Sorry. I am. The stuff here is all a little older, a little more practical, way more expensive, and a lot less exciting! I want the toothpaste that fizzes and tastes like vanilla and whitens your teeth while fighting cavities. I want the deodorant with glitter that smells like coco butter, even though no one in the world really will ever see if your armpit sparkles or not. And once you get used to flossing with satin, you just can’t go back! Anyway, you probably aren’t reading this unless you know me, and if you know me you this shouldn’t come as a surprise.


I said all that to say all this: I haven’t blogged in the last week and a half because of how busy I’ve been. My wonderful parents came for a wonderful visit, Elizabeth mailed me a generous care package as big as my body, and my great friends left the island forever (sad sad sad.) All this has all been pretty big news, all worthy of separate, in-depth, hilarious, and appreciative blog posts, but what do I keep thinking about??? All the new great products I have now!!!


Everyone gave/sent/left me a few little treats here and there, that when combined makes my bathroom cabinet looks a little more like home away from home! I’ve got new lotions from Europe and potions like witch hazel, cotton balls and floss wands and bug sprays with aloe, nail polish remover and new colors to paint with, shampoos and conditioners and treatments to choose from, I’ve even got bronzers and tweezers and multivitamins. I’ve got so much I’m afraid I won’t use it all within the next 22 days… but I guess I can always share with someone else like someone shared with me. When I write to future students embarking on their IPSP adventures, I am going to tell them- don’t worry about clothes. You can wash or buy any clothes, but take your products. If you like for your hair to smell like peppermint, your armpits to sparkle, and don’t want your bug spray to smell like bug spray, even when you are creating Social Change you need to take your products!!!

My fourth of July (a week late)

For a week leading up to the Fourth of July I started thinking about celebrating. Should I throw a party? Where will I get the decorations? Are fireworks legal or even sold here? I started walking up to Americans on the street (we are easy to spot) and asking if they would be in town and if they had heard of anything. I facebooked people I had never met at the suggestion of someone from Canada to try to find a grill out or something!

Anyway, morning of the 4th my neighbor Michael (from Minnesota) and I were resigned to go to the beach and make the most of our holiday. After a beautiful day in the sun and waves, we met some friends for a cheeseburger and fries and I saw a group celebrating a few tables over!

OF COURSE I recognized their Southern accents right away and walked right up and said “I’m from Little Rock!” and they cheered and welcomed me into their group, sharing their red, white, and blue bling! I’ve had some really great Independence Day celebrations, last year I was at the Nation’s Capitol watching thousands of fireworks, many years I have spent on one of Arkansas’s beautiful, natural lakes with friends and family, but there is something special about being so far away from home and feeling patriotic just by getting a little plastic flag and singing a little “And I’m proud to be an American!” with strangers from Texas!

Survivor: The Caribbean Jungle

I’ve never been much of a Survivor follower, although I highly recommend they have an upcoming season in Dominica. After last weekend I can make recommendations about for NBC for where to put the contestants, and hopefully, that was as close to actually “surviving” as I will ever get.


My friends and I decided to take a trip out of Roseau for the weekend and see off the beaten path. Dominica has some luxury accommodations, but we decided to take the cheaper route, finding $100 cottage that slept four on the sea cliff. We walked in the cottage to find mosquito nets, ceiling fans, and the sea seemed miles and miles away. Lord help us- the driver waved goodbye and said he would return in 24 hours.


Our first attempt to the beach led us in down 175 (I counted) muddy and steep steps. I guess you could say the sea really was miles away; it was miles down a cliff. We were nearing dark as we were descending the steps so I knew we wouldn’t get much beach time the first day. The jungle was dark and hazy, and at one point someone thought they saw a dead head hanging from a tree. We all rushed to the spot and after analyzing we ruled out an actual human head, but not a mask or a giant bat. Neither was a good option. Who would hang a freaky mask from a tree, and have you ever seen a bat as big as a head???? Yikes. Keep going.


Upon arriving at the beach I swear it could have been a scene from The Beach with Leonardo DiCaprio. The tide was coming in, the sun was setting, volcanic trash was strewn along the sand, no a soul in sight, and the palm trees were on fire. Wait, what? Yes, I just said the palm trees were on fire. We got fairly close but couldn’t tell what started the fire, it didn’t seem to be spreading, and we had no tools to put it out, and it rains a billion times a day, and the tide was coming in so it wasn’t a threat- it was just weird.


175 steps back up the cliff and to the cottage in the dark, thoroughly freaked out by the head and fire, we stayed safe and sound with a delicious dinner of spaghetti and chicken wings, played cards on the porch in between thunder storms and all hit the bed by 10 p.m., exhausted.


After a quick workout and breakfast we headed out the next morning, this time to the “good beach” we had heard about. White sand beaches are hard to come by in Dominica and all I wanted to do was read a book and get some sun. We knew the general direction and found that everyone was very friendly so asking directions shouldn’t be TOO hard to find...


First try- We found a spot to enter the jungle, pushed branches and limbs out of the way, hiked through a cemetery, literally slid down red clay steps, and finally found one teeny stretch of a black sand beach surrounded by giant cliffs. Palm trees stretched out over the water and the coral came up to the sand so although it was picturesque, it was impossible to get in the water. After a few photos we trudged back into the jungle, using tree roots and branches to pull ourselves up the steep, muddy incline, hoping to come out on the other side of the cliffs.


Second try- we came out of the jungle on top of the cliffs. It really, really beautiful. I thought to myself that I could really see myself spending the night in a tent up there, looking at the starts and listening to the waves crash against the rocks. Then my fear of heights kicked in and started making my bones cringe thinking about my body crashing against the rocks below. Nauseating. (I’m kinda trembling a little bit writing this.)Then I started seeing myself spending the night up there if we couldn’t find our way back. So we quickly moved on, hoping to catch the main road and give it one last try, deciding that we must have overshot the beach from the very beginning and must go back a ways.


Third try- locals told us to go to the nearby villa because they have the best beach access. Rather than the hundreds of muddy steep steps, the owners had created sort of a San Franciscan Lombard street complete with busted motion lights, electric fences, and “Beware of the Dog” signs. I’m thinking of the head in the woods and getting a little freaked out about what kind of place trespassing into, but we walk on down into what I always imagined tropical paradise was like. Two hours before our ride back to Roseau arrived we were finally among colorful tiki tables and umbrellas, reggae playing and people swaying, a precious soft coated Wheaten Terrier (not worthy of the Beware sign), the smell of fresh grilled shrimp, fruity cocktails, white sand beaches, and a bar with… the second half of the WORLD CUP FINALE! Yay Spain!


After a full day of hiking, being caught in the rain, slipping and sliding and slapped in the face by branches- we really felt like we found paradise. We sat around the table, sipping on Kabuli (the local brew) and talked about our adventure, and how although it wasn’t 40 days, and we weren’t competing for millions of dollars, we still kinda felt like we had a Survivor experience on the island. Last night, back in the capital city of 14,000 people I was glad to be in “civilization.” I got a good night’s sleep in my clean sheets (on my cot of a bed) after an amazing cold water shower to wash the red clay off my feet.

Trafalgar Falls Adventure

On the way to work this morning:

8 Blocks. All this happened in approximately four blocks to the coffee shop on the bay front and approximately 4 blocks back to the main street, Independence Avenue, where I work and live. The blocks are approximate because the streets aren’t parallel here. A block can be a triangle, or parallelograms, or well, you get the point.


7 Street musicians or boom boxes from windows. I could name the corners, where the performers will be standing, and what buildings are blasting reggae. Stay tuned for a future blog post entitled “The Reggae is Gonna Getcha” Side note: I don’t think it should count when a guy is just sitting by a boom box- you don’t deserve money for that. Pick up some bongo drums and tap along if you want my change.


6 Inappropriate (however quazi flattering) comments from men. One friend (I use the term loosely) always says “Shorty I like your smile.” Which I can’t help but smile because I don’t wear makeup or blow dry my hair before work. However I have to question the motives the guy that invited me to go “bubbeling.” I just responded that I don’t chew gum, because it’s the truth. I don’t. And one aforementioned street musician stands in front of the bank and Chinese restaurant always tells me he loves me. Jonathan- don’t worry. I’ll never leave you for someone with no teeth. And as my friend from Croatia, Kat, and I have shared, there are always the 'vehicular pick up' attempts that back up a line of cars on a one way street just so the driver can offer you a ride.


5???? I didn’t notice or just can’t think of anything that I saw five of, so I am substituting 50 because I feel like fifty roosters follow me wherever I go. The gang was rifeling through people's garbage and I feel like this is seriously getting out of control. I’m going to mention it to the Prime Minister when I meet him and entertain Joe about changing the focus of my project. 


4: (Approximate) Drug deals. Not that I’m judging or making any accusations, because the black Land Rover with fancy rims that drives down Independence Avenue every morning and slows to a halt at stop signs and 2 teenage boys run up and exchange money for brown bags COULD be bringing in local fruits and berries from the other side of the island. However, I don’t have to make any assumptions about the kid with the pirated movies and cd’s because he offers me a dime bag of ganja when I walk on that side of the street, and said if I don’t want a whole bag he will just share with me. It’s so tempting, but I just have to keep reminding myself “Joe says no. Joe says no.” (That’s a joke Momma, I promise I am not smoking pot in Dominica, but I’ll introduce you to him when you get here in a week if you wanna give it a try!)


3: Rain showers/ sprinkles. Only one strong enough to have to get under an awning, but the other two made me glad I didn’t blow dry my hair. Not that I could have, as I blew my dryer up like a blowtorch on like, my second shower. I don’t mind the rain though; I would always prefer to be caught in the rain than someone just spraying off the side of a building or sidewalk and accidentally drench you as you walk by.


2: Police officers. I don’t really care if they are on the lookout for the Land Rover, I think the least they could do is shoo the roosters away from getting in people’s trash bags. Jake.


ALSO 2: Scuba divers from Texas in the coffee shop. And I must say, within a two minute conversation, I got the impression that they were judging ME for not experiencing enough nature on the Nature Island. Been here for a month guys, working five days a week. Don’t look down on me because I haven’t been to as many waterfalls as you have. I mean, why are American tourists so competitive? I'm practically a local these days.


1: Bible. Left open on my coworker’s desk overnight. I picked it up on the way to my desk and it was open to Galatians 2 so I want to share a verse that I love and gave me strength today “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

Merci beaucoup

So I have an accent. Big deal. I don’t think about it as much as other people do. I mean, I’m not aware if it has ever set me back in any job, any travel, any encounters thus far… and to be honest, I guess you could say maybe on occasion I enjoy embellishing my little Delight twang  (I can do really great Miranda Lambert karaoke.) However, recently I have become much more aware of not only my own accent, but of my inability to pronounce words in other languages properly. (correctly? accurately? What’s even proper here?) For example- last weekend at an amazing French restaurant on the sea with seafood canapés and apple rum crepes I observed that apparently “merci” is most certainly not appreciated by the owner of the restaurant when pronounced “mercy.” He scoffed at me! I’m starting to feel like I’m really just embarrassing myself even when I try to be grateful.

I blame/credit my new awareness on/to my new friends from Algeria (Canada and Spain) and Croatia. Two amazing, well traveled, beautiful people who speak many languages fluently. Um, even their English is better than mine. They love counting how many times I use “y’all” begging me to say “fixin” or “gonna.” They laugh and mimic my accent when I get really excited and blurt out something so redneck that it sounds like Ellie Mae Clampett just joined the conversation. But all that I’m used to, my friends in DC and even some in Little Rock did that. What I’m not used to is how hard it is to roll my Rs in order to thank someone properly for refilling my glass at dinner.Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. That was me trying to rrrrrrrrroll my tongue frusteratedly. (Side not for Mom and Carmen- that was one of those swiftly things!!!)

Anyway, I remember making decent grades on tests in Italian in Italy from Mona Shackelford and in Spanish in high school with Mr. Denny- two very capable teachers who mastered other languages coming from small towns in Arkansas just like me. However I think the reason that it none of it stuck was not because I couldn’t memorize the words (actually I still can identify lots of nouns and list the different verb conjugations in my head) but it’s because I never really pronounce anything that sounded remotely Spanish or Italian! I couldn’t roll my tongue if you pointed a gun at my head. Imagine how Brad Pitt’s character in Inglorious Bastards, pronounced grazie “graught zee” and arrivederci “a reever derchee” at the movie premier… yep, that’s about how I do it too. I’m genuinely sorry because now I think it must be insulting to everyone who has worked so hard to learn and appreciate different languages.

So that leads me to my new goal- working on the pronunciation and enunciation of some common Italian, Spanish, and French phrases- specifically being able to roll my Rs! I eHow’d how to do it and they say I should be able to figure it out in five easy steps. I found plenty of things on youtube to practice my speech while in my apartment, and I know my friends are more than willing to help when we go out to dinner. However, while walking down the sidewalk at lunch it just hit me that this new goal could actually be two-fold in nature!!!!! (My best friends know how I get so excited when things are two or more fold!)

Here’s how I’m going to go about killing two birds with one stone! Ready? I’m kinda excited right now. Not only will I be bettering my vocabulary, I will actually be warding off unwanted attention from Dominican men to and from work, and on walks I go on! No skeezy, sweaty, stinky men are going to want to approach, much less flirt with, the crazy white girl who repeats loud, strange flemmy, gurgling sounds shaking her head while walking down the street!!! “Merrrrrrrrrrci, Grrrrrrrrrrazie.” See, it really helps if you say it loudly and shake your head to try and roll your tongue. Because currently you see, I think I sound like a schizophrenic toad. Hopefully within the next 35 days I transform into sounding like a plain old schizophrenic walking down the street eloquently thanking, greeting, and bidding “adieu” many different languages. 

Adieu!

Class 5 Blogs

Confession: I LOVE my classmate’s blogs so much that I’ve started disciplining myself about reading them. I won’t check blogs at night because I will just spend hours going though old posts and not go to sleep. I make myself wait until the morning while I drink my coffee at work because most of the postings are put up while I’m asleep and most of you are 8 to 12 hours ahead and there are usually two to four new ones.

My favorites are short little funny ones, about a class joke (or David W. calling out Patrick!) or those photos of CSPS Admin are CRACKIN me up. Joe on a motorcycle MIGHT have been my desktop background for a day. Rebecca’s one liners are so Rebecca. In fact, I think that’s why I love them so much because I can hear everyone’s voices in their pieces, I can just imagine Lindsey doing a little presentation about Jilian being a great vacation spot, and Gralon’s long posts remind me of how soulful he is. I read every ones posts in your voice, just like you are telling me a story. Especially Trenia- your little comments are so... You! Hallie’s photos are so amazing, that I get really jealous I didn’t go to Peru (until she reminds me that its cold.) Julie- I cannot believe you are going through such an amazingly challenging experience. And Adam, I don’t think last year I thought you were as funny as I do now!!! Ryan, sharing your letter to your father was really brave, and I admire it. I want you all (Judy and Sarah especially!) to continue through the summer because your posts are so great! I could have a little shout out to each one of you… but this is turning into a long post instead of a short little Hello!

Finally, to all of you who didn’t blog, but might happen upon reading this- I miss you guys! I feel like I can kinda keep up with Ivan through Cory, but Latif and Heather and the rest of you not blogging… Send us an email about what’s going on!