Being a Kid Again

Q: When is the last time you rolled down a hill?

My Answer: TODAY!!

Kenny Rogers: He's So Wise Right Now!

Today I bought Kenny Roger's Greatest Hits for 5 euros.  (A steal, I know!)  Lady, Lucille, Don't Fall in Love with a Dreamer...  They're all there.  (Don't worry, I had never heard of the latter before, either.)


...Have you ever really listened to the words of The Gambler?  Chalked full of wisdom!

See:

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.
Now let that sink in...

Now go live your life like that gambler...  But please don't get addicted--to the gambling...

An Actual Phone Conversation

Faith: "Know how they have those ghost encounter shows on TV?  ...I was flippin' through and there was some celebrity ghost encounter show on, and it had Rue McClanahan..."

Me: "Wait.  I'm confused...  Was she the ghost of did she have the encounter?"



(It's much funnier when you're sleep-deprived and delirious.)


P.S.  If anyone can fill me in on the actual ghost encounter of Rue, I'd be grateful...  I googled it but couldn't find any details.  And I am dying to know!

Just in Case You're Wondering...

They do have Jehovah's Witnesses in the Netherlands.  And they will come to your door.  (But I'm sure you already assumed that.)

Thought of the Day:

Does anyone else think that Star Jones might be Al Roker in drag?

Score One for the Dutch

I just heard a techno version of the Itsy Bitsy Spider on the radio...

...Top that, America!

I Love...

...the sound of Ian splashing around in the tub (in the next room over) on a Sunday afternoon.  The laughter, the splashing, the babbling in weird voices by talking into a cup...  It reminds me of how fun baths used to be as a kid.

Even more I love that it's Sunday and that the undoubtedly flooded bathroom floor is not technically my mess to clean up! ;)

But mostly, I love Ian and the fun he has.  How lucky I am to work with happy, healthy kids who definitely make my life all the more entertaining.  (...Even if that does mean I get a pillow flung at me every now and then!) :)

Tuesday Bliss

Has anyone else had a pillow thrown at them out of anger but someone a third of their age today, or is it just me?

...Yeah, I am gonna go ahead and chalk that one up as the highlight of my day.  Well, that and the fact that I have the voice of Bea Arthur due to my allergies and sinuses.

Graveyard of Sarah's Exes

(Loosely inspired by the Journal of a Fatty Fat Fat)

Po Chin
"Big P_ _ _ _ "
Billy
Jason


....feel free to comment and add to the list (Sarah!).


**This blog is a joke, so unless your one of a handful of people, odds are you won't understand it.**

Home Sweet Home

Today I saw a man with a mullet driving a John Deere lawn mower...

...And for a moment, I felt like I was back home.

Mmmmm Kkkkkkk....

Here's the deal:  I am going to spare you the story--for the sake of repeating the thought--but I'm going to give you the moral (because it may save you a whole lotta awkward one day).

The Moral of the Story:  Do not ever ask anyone why/what for they use baby oil.


If you're wise, you'll take that to heart.

Merger of My Dreams

If ABC and TLC ever merged, do you think they would make Dancing with the Duggars??

Gimme A Break!

I'd just like to confirm that the Dutch Kit Kat McFlurry does have caramel in it.  It was not a mistake that my previous one had yummy caramel goodness mixed in; for today, I ordered a another--only to test for caramel, of course--and it was the same.

I repeat, the Dutch Kit Kat McFlurry is divine in all it's caramelly, chocolatey, crispy, ice cream goodness.

If I were you, I'd book your trans-Atlantic airfare today just so you can come see for yourself--and visit me while your at it.

My 1st Haircut in Holland

I broke down and got my first haircut.  It had been a long time coming and I just couldn't put it off anymore.  The last straw being the fact that I resembled a shaggy Hank Williams Jr. when I put on my aviators.  So I had to do something...

Ian and Sara both had an appointment for a hair trim.  So while I was there, I checked the place out and made my own appointment.

So at 9 o'clock the next morning morning, I showed up as the first customer of the way.  In all retrospect, I think my first sign of the cut-to-come should have been the weird looks she kept giving my hair...  At one point, she even said, "How did they cut your hair before?!"   To that, I replied that it had been almost half a year since I had my last style, but I went ahead and told her all about what it had looked like and how they had cut it.  Even with my explanation, it didn't click to her.  And that made me a bit sad, cause I loved my old haircut... 

But none the less, I let her keep doing her thing.  After all, how bad could it possible get since I just asked for a no-hassle trim?!  ....Mmm hmmm... 

Long story short, everything went pretty well up until the end.  Another sign I should have seen was the fact that just parted my hair obviously wrong...  So when she went to cut my bangs, it was parted wrong.  And try as she may, she just couldn't get them to stay combed over and lay as she had cut them.  Fortunately, they still looked normal laying to the other side.  And then as I thought she was finished, she kept going...  This is where I should have stopped her...  Not only did she cut my bangs as I had asked, but she also took her own (Dutch) initiative to make some angles around my face fading into the length of my hair...

...And now, I look like a mom.  As if my job didn't make me look maternal enough, now my hair does.

Oh, and  I still look like Hank Williams Jr. with my sunglasses.  So problem not solved.  I guess this will just have to be a lesson learned.  Chances are, if you see mostly butch haircuts and men walking out of a stylist, that is her specialty.  So might now wanna go to her if you expect the au natural elegant look.  Next time, I'll know.  (But I really hope there doesn't have to be a next time while I am in Holland...   I'm just not a fan of their style--at all.)

Bam-A-Lam!

Dear readers,

I would like to introduce you to my newest set of wheels...

Readers, this is Betty--Black Betty.
Betty, these are my readers.

Been A While...

Shame
By The Avett Brothers

Okay so I was wrong about
My reasons for us fallin’ out
Of love I want to fall back in

My life is different now I swear
I know now what it means to care
About somebody other than myself

I know the things I said to you
They were untender and untrue
I’d like to see those things undo

So if you could find it in your heart
To give a man a second start
I promise things won’t end the same

Shame, boatloads of shame
Day after day, more of the same
Blame, please lift it off
Please take it off, please make it stop

Okay so I have read the mail
The stories people often tell
About us that we never knew

But their existence will float away
And just like every word they say
And we will hold hands as they fade

Shame, boatloads of shame
Day after day, more of the same
Blame, please lift it off
Please take it off, please make it stop

I felt so sure of everything
My love to you so well received
And I just strutted around your town
Knowing I didn’t let you down
The truth be known, the truth be told
My heart was always fairly cold
Posing to be as warm as yours
My way of getting in your world
But now I’m out and I’ve had time
To look around and think
And sink into another world
That’s filled with guilt and overwhelming

Shame, boatloads of shame
Day after day, more of the same
Blame, please lift it off
Please take it off, please make it stop

And everyone they have a heart
And when they break and fall apart
And need somebody’s helping hand

I used to say just let ’em fall
It wouldn’t bother me at all
I couldn’t help them now I can

A Few One-Liners

1) I now "own" a bike--or at least have one at my beckon call.

2) No, I am not eating the goodies I bought for the kids pinata...

3) Did I mention I am throwing the best party ever in a couple days?

4) I am the MecGyver--or MacGruber*--of crafts. Construction paper is my specialty.
*SNL reference

Reason for the Season

Spring is over and Lent is coming to an end. Which means, Easter is upon us. And in the last week, the kids and I have decided to throw an Easter party for not only ourselves, but also a select few* (incredibly lucky) friends.
*Select few = 8

While I secretly love the thrill of planning these things for the kids, I always wait til the last possible minute week to actually get started. So with a week to prepare, we've been on the grind. Easter foods, Easter eggs, Easter games, Easter decorations--you get the idea--is all that has been on my mind the past few days. It's practically all I think about! (Well that and Brittle Magillacutty*.) And this morning on the way back from school, my mind started to wonder to just these things...
*Don't worry that you have no idea what that means; it's an inside joke with my sister.

But in mid-thought, something dawned upon me: Am I getting so caught up in commercial Easter that I am failing to show the kids the real reason?! I mean, if Tom Harrison were here, he'd definitely not let us forget (what he calls) "the reason for the season". ...And if so, how do I incorporate the real meaning into the party?!

So I thought...

...and thought...

...and sang aloud to Here You Come Again and thought some more...

Ohh! I know!!

So, how about this: To make sure the kids realize that Easter bunnies and eggs are not the focus of the holiday, I'll play the soundtrack of Jesus Christ Super Star in the background throughout the whole party?! Who wouldn't love that?! While I would love to just fly my cousin Sarah out so she could sing "He's Al-li-i-i-i-i-i-i-ive"*, I simply cannot afford it... So maybe "What's the buzz, tell me what'sa happenin' " is the next best thing?!
*Note: The dashes in "Al-li-i-i-i-i-i-i-ive" aren't used to stress the longevity of the note, but are instead to meant to symbolize the cutting in and out of the Sidonia Baptist sound system it was originally performed on.

And then, just as fleeting as the idea had come, it passed...

(And just so you know, I would actually never play Jesus Christ Super Star at an Easter party. ...Well, not unless it was my own nieces and nephews, but that's a given with Faith's kids. Ha!)

So, instead, Esther is just going to read the story of Easter (in all its real meaning) to the kids after lunch.

If You Give A Duck A Bread Crumb...

...take my advice, and don't do it feet within your front door. Because if, and when, you do, you will have what Nina, Sara's 9-year-old friend, calls a "Duck Problem". Simply put, it means you will have four or five ducks literally camping in your front yard for the remainder of the afternoon.

And if, and when, you give a duck a bread crumb (right outside your front door), you will eventually have to send two six-year-old boys outside to literally chase them away.
(And it will be one of the most entertaining things to watch from the kitchen window.)

Q & A

Q: What is one of the most annoying sounds?

A: A nine-year-old practicing the recorder on the way to school...
...and back from school...
...and after lunch...
...and before karate...
...and after dinner...
...all the way until bedtime.

But gotta love the determination!

Sophia Petrillo:

Picture it...

Drenthe, 2010.

It was a mild, spring afternoon just a few weeks after the snow had melted. The sun was shining, flowers were blooming, and the sweet aroma of manure was in the air. What? People use it in their gardens. Anyhow, a beautiful young girl in her twenties, along with her three kids--though not actually hers, cause she was much too independent for that--decided to take every advantage of the weather. So after picnicing in the garden, they ventured out around the Houtlaan.. Though this spectacular, youthful woman had always kept her figure by running, this time, she took the challenge of roller blades. Imagine it. An adult on wheels trying to keep up with 9 year olds... She was at least 10 yards behind at all times. And though she may have been stunningly gorgeous, she still looked damned awkward on those things!

I should know...
Cause that stunningly beautiful, 21-year old was me.


Dorothy: But Ma, what does this have to do with the problem at hand?!


Sophia: Nothing... I was just trying to drop some hints about exercise around here! All you three ever do is sit around eating cheesecakes. And I'm sorry to say it, Dorothy, but your not getting many dates like that!




And that, my readers, was a day in the life of Catherine Harrison transformed into a Golden Girls dialogue.

...Your welcome.

Crack That Whip!

Man, I have really got to update the songs on my iPod...

Do you think anyone else works out to Whip It (by Divo), or is it just me? Come to think of it, why is that song even on my iPod in the first place?!?!

...But yeah...
Did you catch that little hint about me running again today?

I am 2 for 2! (Or 3 for 3 if you count Sunday's bike ride with the kids.) And if the soreness of my legs is any indication of the fat I'm burning, then I'm going to be one skinny bit--I mean chick--this summer.

Run, Cattie, Run!

Life's all about trail and error, right? Well then, learn from my trial...

If you decide to go on your first run in forever of Spring, do not--I repeat, do not--eat a bowl of lime sherbet before embarking on your journey. Trust me... Midway through your iPod blaring Super Freak, the sherbet will sneak back up on you. And as your lungs are already engulfed in flames, you will be forced to do one of two things: 1) vomit in your neighbors yard while yard crews and maintenance men look on, or 2) swallow your pride--and by pride, I mean sherbet up-chuck.

(As for me, I chose the latter... I don't deal well with P.D.P.V.--Public Displays of Projectile Vomit. ...And yes, I did just come up with that myself.)

But looking on the bright side, I actually ran today! And I've only been promising myself I would for what? A month now? But I guess it all came down to the spring-time weather. Now that the snow is gone and the sun is out, I have no excuse. (This all based on my new philosophy: If it is sunny, God is telling me to run; If it is rainy, He is giving me a break.)

So there. My first run (of many more) of the year. Because I will, I will, I will keep this up. ...Ever heard that before?! But seriously, I will!

A Love Letter To Holland

Dear Holland,

There are many choose words I could use to sum up my feelings right now, but in respect of my readers' virgin eyes, I'll just go with this: Suck it. No seriously... Suck it. And then eat dirt*.
*Edited for content; Not the actual four-letter word I was thinking of.

As if George wasn't enough, now this?!

I mean, really?! No food coloring?? ...In the whole country?! Are you flippin* kidding me?! WTF is that about?!?!
*Once again, not the four-letter word I was thinking...

How do you expect me to have the most awesome St. Patrick's Day meal ever without food coloring?! I mean, that just takes away all the best ideas: rainbow toast and green milk for breakfast, green eggs, rainbow cupcakes... Seriously!! Way to ruin it!! Way to be the biggest disappointment in my almost-six months here! ...And not only for me, but the kids.

To be perfectly clear, I hate you right now. This is exactly the type of trivial thing that makes me miss home that much more. So thank you... Thank you for ruining my day--if not St. Patty's Day as well.

BFFME

This morning at breakfast, Sara, Ian, and I got to talking about friends of sorts. I don't really know how we got on the topic in the first place, but eventually we started to discuss BFFs. I announced that they were two of my BFFs in Holland, and that prompted the question (from them) as to what exactly a BFF is...

So I explained. Best Friend Forever.

With that answer, Ian got to thinking--as he always does. And he decided he was not my BFF. Instead, he was my BFFME...

Best Friend For Million Evers.

So there...

We're BFFMEs.
:)

All You Need Is...

Love.

At least that is what the Beatles said. And so does my Beatles-inspired T-shirt. But when I wore it this past week, I found out that the old saying might not be entirely true. For you see, I was set straight by a six and nine year old.

So today, I must tell you that All You Need is Love...

...and water...
...and clothes...
...and a house...
...and a bed...
...and food...

...oh, and a jacket. And shoes.

And this must be true because both Ian an Sara actually agreed (for once).

Hypothetically...

Say someone sent you a package a week or so ago...
And say that package had mini-marshmallows in it...
I guess that if you had a (clean) pair of tweezers and a lighter lying around, you could grip the marshmallows (one-by-one) with that pair of tweezers and then "roast" them with the fire of your lighter...

...Not saying that I'd know or anything, but I bet the would be delicious.

You should try it sometime. ...Not saying that I have or anything.

;)

Worst Blogger Ever

...That is exactly what I have become. The worst blogger ever. And I must apologize...

If I were a responsible blogger, I would be finishing up a million other posts right now (from all the way back to my week in Norway), but I am so freakin' worn out. So instead, I am typing this lame excuse of a post... I literally have a dozen blogs I have started--and by started, I mean titled so I remember to write them--that I just need to finish. And I promise I will get those to you within the next week... or two. No, a week. I promise.

Anywho, I just wanted to post so you aren't worried that I am floating dead in some Dutch canal. (That was a bit morbid, wasn't it?) But I am still here! ...Just a little sidetracked these days.

Fjords & Vids

Fjords and Vids! Fjords and Vids! I gotta have me my Fjords and Vids!
(You know... Like Boats and Hoes, but instead, Fjords and Vids?! Or am I the only Will Ferrell fan out there?)

So these are a bunch of little short videos I shot with my Flip while in Norway. As you'll see from my skills, I am quite the blooming journalist... or maybe just the biggest dork ever... Heh. I'll leave that to you to decide. But either way, most of the videos are just spans of the scenery I saw. Hopefully they will give you a better view of Norway than just my still pictures.

So without further ado...

Cruising on the Hurtigruten




Sunset from the Hurtigruten



>


Scenery from a bus stop on the way to the Fjord1 boat




Waiting on the Fjord1 boat




The Fjord1 boat is coming...




Breaking through the icy waters as seen from the window




View of the fjords from the back of the boat




More fjords




Somewhere in this video I take my "Titanic" shot




Meet my new Korean friend Daniel




The last of the videos

Panorama!

Here are some of the panoramic shots I took while in Norway.

Please note that my camera is not that of a professional's, nor is it anywhere close. Not to mention, the girl operating the camera is not a professional, nor anywhere close. So understand that these pictures aren't the best quality ever (especially when it comes to lighting). And the cold, bright conditions of Norway were really effecting the quality of the panoramic mode more than usual. So just keep all that in mind...

Aboard the Hurtigruten and Bergen

At 10 a.m. on Thursday morning, I left Trondheim and set sail for Bergen aboard the Hurtigruten. The Hurtigruten in a big seven-story boat that travels the Norwegian coast. If I had known they sailed from the very north tip back down to Oslo when I booked my trip, I would have just done one big coastal tour on the Hurtigruten... But I didn't know that, now did I?! So I got on-board in Trondheim, stayed in a cabin one night, and then arrived in Bergen the next afternoon.

I was quite excited when I got on-deck; the boat ride was the part of the trip I was most looking forward to. Not to mention, I hadn't been on a boat that big since--ever! I mean, sure, I sailed the blues seas to Key West aboard the Carabelli for Spring Break one year, but they was totally different. So as soon as I got on board, I went exploring. It didn't take long for me to discover the outside decks that would become my favorite places on the ship. As we left shore and entered the Norwegian Sea, I could tell the scenery was going to be unlike any I had seen before. I was so freaking excited... And when I heard the captain announce that there would be an informational meeting in half an hour, I decided to make my way there seeing as how I really knew absolutely nothing about the cruise I was on.

...At the meeting, it didn't take long for me to realize I was one of only a few people aboard the ship under the age of 60. Had I not seen two other backpackers checking in when I did that morning, I would have probably assumed I was the only one... But whatev. I was still just as excited to be on a ship in Norway.

Shortly after the informational meeting, I went back up top to the viewing lounge (which is just my way of saying "room with couches, seats, and wall-to-wall windows). I was so amazed at the coastline. The jutting, snow-covered mountains coming straight out of the water. It was beautiful. But it was a bit redundant. And that is not a complaint in anyway, cause I could have spent a week on that ship and never gotten tired of the views... But I was a so tired at that point and my body was begging for a nap after all the traveling and early mornings I had been doing. So knowing I'd have plenty of coastline to see later, I headed back to my cabin and napped. After all, what else was I going to do?! I hadn't run into those two other young backpackers yet, so was I just suppose to go buddy up with the elderly?! No, (while that isn't too far out of the realm of something I would do,) I opted for the nap.

After I woke, I did a lot more of lounging and viewing. I set up shop in the viewing lounge and went to town on a dozen postcards... And then I paid way to much money for some late lunch. (Trust me, Norway is ridiculously expensive... And if I had been calculating the conversion rate right, I would have actually known that while I was there!) But all that is neither here nor there. I guess the point is that I had quite the leisurely boat ride. And it was the best part of my trip up until that point. I spent hours just watching the coast go by, and I loved it! But my absolute favorite part of the day was sunset. It was GORGEOUS. Mesmerizing, even. The blues, the purples, the pinks, the oranges... Ahh! One of the most--if not the most--beautiful sunsets I've ever seen. It was just one of those moments where yo can't help but revel at how amazing and creative God is for making such natural beauty in the world... And I did just that. Aloud. To myself and anyone who would listen. Ha! I literally just kept walking around the deck gasping, "So freakin' beautiful!" and "Ahh! Amazing!" ...Some of those people around me probably thought I was a little off my rocker--and who even knows if they spoke English. But I couldn't help it. It was that captivating!

Also as the sun was setting, I finally ran into the other backpackers, who turned out to be Ben and Andre. Both were Engineering students in the UK, but only Ben was a native; Andre was originally from Germany. So for the rest of the night, I palled up with them. They were pretty down-to-earth guys. I can't say we did much more than just sit around and do a lot of talking, but it was good to meet some new friends for the time on the boat. Once again, the people I met really did make all the difference on the trip...

That night, sitting on the (cold, windy) deck on the back of the boat with Ben and Andre, I saw g lunar halo--granted I didn't know what it was called at the time, and had to google it later. I had really hoped to see the Northern Lights, but knew the chance was slim-to-none because I didn't go far enough North. But I guess God gave me the second best thing! Pretty much, the lunar halo was a more faint ring of light surrounding the moon. And I am not sure how true it is, but some of the others around us were saying it is a pretty rare occurrence. Whether or not they are right, I am not sure, but I do know it was the first one I had ever seen. And in my mind, it made up for the fact that I wouldn't be witnessing Aurora Borealis. So it was a nice night indeed, and I turned in (to the fold out bed in my cabin) shortly thereafter.

The next morning was rather chill. Aside from breakfast, I did a lot more lounging, viewing, and picture taking... I met back up with Ben and Andre, but spent most of my morning to myself. I cuddled up on one of the couches and took to reading my Eat, Love, Pray book--which I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE! Did I mention how much I loved that book?! Anywho, it turned out that Ben and Andre were staying in the same hostel I was booked for in Bergen. So about the time we started to dock, I buddied back up with them and let them lead the way...

A word about men leading the way: Do they always take the difficult, long way around that involves five-hundred stairs straight up a fjord, or was that just a one time experience?! By the time we finally made it to the hostel, I was breathing heavy and beet-red... (Damned my Harrison genes of turning bright red at the slightest bit of physical activity!) A tourist for sure. And I was not the happiest camper. Oh, did I mention how much freakin' snow was in Bergen?! Apparently they had massive snow storms the days before my arrival, and it was quite piled up. But that is not even the loveliest part. The day I arrived, the sun was out and the temperature up a bit, so all the banks of snow were melting. And there is nothing I love more than sloshing around in the melting snow in rubber-souled shoes--might as well just have worn sleds on my feet--while carrying a 20 pound backpack!!

As you can probably already tell, Bergen was not my favorite stop of my trip. To be honest, I really can't judge it too fairly because it didn't really get much better from there. And it's not all Bergen's fault... I just should have packed better shoes. (And a lighter bag.) What ever made me think Wallabees would be well-suited for Norway in February?! Long story short, after I checked into the hostel, I went wondering around the city. You know, my usual routine... But I did not enjoy it, and I think it had everything to do with the fact that my shoes were soaking wet. And not just on the outside, but all the way to my feet. My socks were even wet. And it was terrible. Ugh! All the melting snow, aside from being a complete falling hazard, had splashed all over my Wallabees and soaked in. So even though Bergen was a pretty enough town, I just couldn't stand to walk around in wet shoes and socks while trying not to break my neck every step. So I wound up back at the hostel before the sun even set.

Back in my room at the hostel, I met some cool people. There were a couple girls from Austria, a guy from Spain, one from Belgium, and another girl from Mexico. All but the girl from Mexico were studying in Molde, and nearby town to Bergen. The Mexican girl was studying in France but was off for Spring Break. She shared many of the same views as I about Bergen and it's (damned) snow. Ha! And though I was invited to go out with the student group from Molde, I opted to go to bed at a reasonable hour instead. After all, I was back up at 6 the next morning in order to get ready and catch my next train.

Trondheim

So after making it to the train station Wednesday morning, I hopped on my 8:04 a.m. train, and was off to Trondheim.

A few words about the train ride: It was scheduled to be an almost seven hour ride through the mountains/fjords of Norway. I had no problem with this. 1) because I am lazy, and 2) because it was beautiful. However, an hour or so in to the ride, we were stopped and delayed due to... mechanical issues? (I never really know why every train I set foot on seems to be delayed because all the announcements are conveniently in languages I don't speak. So I just kind of make up why or what I think is happening.) But after 20 or thirty minutes, we were back on track--PUN INTENDED! And for the next several hours of my life, I read, wrote postcards, and just chilled out to the sounds of my iPod. It wasn't until an hour shy of our destination that I discovered the train would not be going all the way Trondheim. Because of the earlier delay--yada, yada, yada... once again, I didn't understand the announcement--we, the passengers, would be getting off at the next station and taking a bus the rest of the way. ...And that we did.

At this time, I knew I wasn't going to make it to my hostel by the appointed check-in, or even within the same hour. So trying to be a responsible back-packer, I tried calling. Tried being the keyword. ...There was no working line for the number. ...Okay. So I just didn't worry about it and headed on to Trondheim via bus.

When I got to Trondheim, I immediately set out to find my hostel. It was already late afternoon, and I needed to check-in, get rid of my (overly packed) backpack, and see the city before it got too dark. So having no idea where to go to catch the appropriate bus in the direction I needed to go, I went to the Information desk of the station. The one rude woman I met my whole time in Norway just happened to be working the desk. And I pretty much left there just as confused as I had come, only with a map in hand. ...A map I couldn't read at that. So I took to wondering the streets. Long story short, I asked about three people for directions to the bus, and all gave me terribly vague responses. Not that they weren't friendly people trying to help, they just weren't descriptive enough... So by the time I did find the buses, I was stressed out and sick of carrying my backpack. It didn't help matters that I couldn't find my bus (or any sign of existence of such bus) headed in the right direction. That is were I had my first Norwegian-tourist breakdown. And in the end, I gave up on that damned hostel--that I may or may not have still had a room in. I turned around, and headed straight back to the Best Western I had passed a few blocks from the station. And after shelling out (an expensive rate of) Norwegian krones, I had a room for the night all to myself!

Finally I threw my bag down, chilled out a bit, and then headed about town. But by that time, it was getting dark. So instead of trekking around, I opted for food. I found the nearby restaurant and ordered a cheeseburger and fries; How American! (I just couldn't resist it when I read that it came with onion rings!!) Not to mention, the herring selection just wasn't up my alley. While at dinner, I asked the waiter what there was to do about town on a Wednesday night. He said, "well not much because everyone is home watching the Olympics." (What is it with the Europeans and the Winter Olympics?! ...Or am I just the only one not enthusiastic?) So not wanting to wonder about alone at night, I headed back to the Best Western.

When I got back, I noticed a little pub next door that had quite a few people inside. Not having anything else to do, I decided to wonder in. There, I found a crowd of Norwegians all watching the Olympics. ...Go figure. Heh... But I did manage to strike up a conversation with the girl that worked there, and in turn, the guys around me.

It didn't take long to meet people at all. One of my fastest friends was Martin, a taxi driver on-duty, but with no business. So like everyone else, he decided to watch the ski relay. Martin and I talked forever because he loved American comedies (movies) and I knew all of them. So the conversation was endless. And of course being Catherine, it didn't take me long to befriend the man with the coolest mustache either. Haha... His name was Harold, he was rather "toasty", and we bonded after Norway took the silver medal. (I would like to point out that I was still chanting "U.S.A., U.S.A" at the time because we didn't finish until next to last... Go team!) I also met a couple "Chocolate Technicians" from Germany. They were two older men that worked for every major chocolate company you could think of--Hershey, being the only one I remember because it's American--by traveling the world in search of the best cocoa beans and ways to make chocolate better... Pretty much, they had the best job in the world. I spent hours in that pub, and I enjoyed every minute of it. And surprisingly, it wasn't alcohol induced!

By the end of the night, Martin asked me how I liked Trondheim, and when I told him I couldn't really give a fair answer, I explained my train delay and navigation woes. To which he replies, "Well, I've got a taxi out front and no business... want a tour?!" At this point, you just read that, and a scene from Taken flashed through your mind, I am sure... But trust me, Martin was not a creeper at all. And after spending hours with him and his friends, I felt like I could judge that. So I obliged. ...Granted, I still took the usual precautions: I memorized the license plate number to the taxi, had a "I'm being kidnapped by taxi number ....." text drafted to Shawn and Faith, and had the Norwegian emergency number on speed dial...

Martin took me all around the city, to several spots I never would have reached on foot at all. The first place we went to was an old cathedral that I had actually passed by on the way in by bus. I was lucky enough to get a couple pictures before my camera battery died, but they didn't do this cathedral justice. This was the most beautiful church I had ever seen in my life. It was amazing. It was gorgeous. It was love at first sight. If it's possible to fall in head-over-heels love with a building, it happened to me that night. Ahhh... Just thinking about it makes me feel amazed. It was that beautiful. From there, we went to see an old medieval fort, some old university buildings, another old church, and an old monastery-turned-prison on an island. Also, we drove out to see this huge ski jump ramp. I have never seen such a huge hill. ...What the heck makes people want to jump it wearing skis?! Anywho, after a great tour of everything, Martin dropped me off like a (non-psycho kidnapper), true gentleman. (...Maybe he got the idea after I talked about "my boyfriend back home" half the night.)

The people I met in Norway are some of the nicest I've met anywhere. And the people I met during my trip really are what made it such a great experience.

...So Trondheim ended up being a pretty nice city after all. I just had to quit stressin' and find a taxi-driving friend to see it! Ha! Oh, and the sunrise over the town the next morning was one of the best I've seen in a while--and that is saying something because I do wake up at 6 a.m. on a regular basis these days! It seemed like half of the sky was deep purple with hints of blue, while the other half was pink with bits of orange. Though I can't say I stayed up to watch the whole rising of the sun, I did get up for a few minutes to capture it on camera. Then I promptly jumped back into bed and slept for another hour or so before getting up to start a new day of travel (by boat). Before I finished breakfast, Martin called to make sure I was up, on time, and knew how to get to the harbor. ...Turns out I didn't have as much of a clue as I thought, so once again, he was kind enough to offer me a ride. And thank goodness, too, because I would have been late if I were on foot. So yeah... I got a ride to the harbor, said goodbye to my new friend, and climbed aboard the Hurtigruten.

Oslo

When I arrived in Oslo on Tuesday morning, is was a rather dreary day: grey and snowy. On a side note, I found it the airport customs extremely lax. I didn't have to do anything except for walk through a door labeled "Nothing to Declare"; no showing my passport, no declaring I was there and for what purposes, no nothing... I was a long way from the States, for sure!

Upon finding my hostel, I could tell you I wasn't staying at the finest establishment in Oslo. I actually had to walk through someone's room to get to mine. But aside from a few needed renovations and my roommates either not speaking English or being super weird, I was happy to have a place to stay. After getting settled in--which should read, "after throwing down my 30 lb backpack"--I went out for a walk about town. I had no clue where I was going to be very honest. So I just followed the tourist street. Eventually, after passing a ton of buildings I took pictures of but could not identify for my life, I wound up at the palace. That's about the time my Wallabees gave way from under me and I busted my butt. Surprisingly, this was the first--and last--time I busted my butt the whole trip. But trust me, there were hundreds of other times I came close.

Also while wondering around, I stumbled upon the harbor area. This was probably my favorite part of the city. Granted it was covered with a ton of snow, but I still liked it. Actually, I found a little hill to climb overlooking it which, oddly enough, had a FDR statue atop it. (Norway had a much bigger part in WWII that I realized...) Sitting up there with FDR, the sun began set. And though the sky was mostly grey, there were still a few hints of pinks and purples to be seen. I think that is why the harbor was my favorite spot.

Not wanting to stay out too late into the dark--as I was later informed my hostel was on the street of drugs and hookers--I wandered back to my accomodation. If there is one thing I learned in all my wondering around Oslo, it is that they have an abundance of 7Elevens, TGI Fridays, and Burger Kings. That latter I wasn't so suprised about since I have seen them in every European country I have been to, but I swear I saw more 7Elevens and TGI Fridays in Norway than back in the States... Who would have thought!

When I made it back to my hostel, I greeted my (weirdo) roommates who were still glued in the same spot as when I left--their beds--again. They were not sociable in the least. But luckily, the guy whose room I had to invade to get to my own was rather nice. I had met him on my way in and out. So after having no luck with my own roommates, Sebastian--that was his name--invited me to a cup of tea. Initially as we began talking, I learned that he was from Poland and was a visiting professor at a college in Oslo. As we got to chatting even more, I discovered that he had spent time working in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee as part of his Tourism study. Sadly, if wasn't Dollywood, but still... I couldn't believe it! And of all places he had worked in Tennessee, one had been Cracker Barrel. It made me laugh when he told me that Cracker Barrel was "full of old people who told me about Jesus, but I liked it very much". I told him I was sure he had probably met my dad. Ha! Oh, another thing he told me about that I loved was the name of the church he attends in Oslo: St. Olaf. ...Umm, are there any other Golden Girls fans out there that get that reference! Anywho, Sebastian was a great guy, and I was glad to meet him and have a cup of tea. Shortly thereafter, I headed to bed.

The next morning, I got up early, fumbled through the dark to get dressed and packed, and headed to the station where I caught my next train to Trondheim.

The City of Temptation

So in transit to Norway last week, I found myself spending an extra night in Amsterdam in order to better catch my early flight to Oslo. I actually didn't get to my hostel til about 6 in the evening because I stayed home most of the afternoon waiting on a week-overdue Valentine's Day package to be delivered--and it never came. So though I did not see hardly any of the city itself, not all was lost. My hostel was hoppin', to say the least. I am not sure if I stayed at a "party" hostel, or if every hostel in Amsterdam is known for having a good time, but either way, I picked quite the funhouse. Unfortunate for me, though, I had already promised a friend that I wouldn't drink the whole trip--let alone indulge in other temptations...

Still wanting to mingle, though, I sat down at the hostel bar and ordered myself a Sprite. It didn't take long to make friends at all. In no time, I was talking to a group of Brazilians (who weren't traveling together, but had all met at the hostel). From that moment on, I was an honorary Brazilian for the night, and hung out with them...

We had a pretty fun night. Hahaha... Though I didn't get to see much of the city, my new found friends and I did venture out to the streets that were illuminated in red light. Would you expect anything less from me?! Of course not...

Other memorable events of the evening include: eating the prettiest pastry I have ever seen, passing out McDonalds chicken nuggets to strangers back at the hostel, meeting a curly-headed, Buddy Holly look-a-like with a posse of 4 beautiful blonde headed girls and insisting he must be in a band, and making lots of friends from everywhere.

...It wasn't until waking up the next morning that I realized the events of the night before had been so fun/funny because I undoubtedly had a strong high from just being in that hostel... The place reaked of Mary Jane! Either way, it was fun. And now I can finally say I have been to Amsterdam after livving how long in the Netherlands?! ...5 months?!

A Pain in My...

I waited til the last minute to book my vacation that starts in a matter of days...
But alas, this is what I've finally accomplished tonight:

Hostel in Amsterdam: Booked.
Flight from Amsterdam to Oslo: Booked.
Hostel in Oslo: Booked.
Commute from Oslo to Trondheim: Booked.
Hurtigruten boat ride from Trondheim to Bergen: Booked.
Hostel in Bergen: Processing.
Commute(s) from Bergen to Oslo: Booked.
Return flight: Booked.

Whew. The bulk of it is booked... Now if only I weren't broke!

Give It Up For...

So today marks the beginning of Lent. And though I am not a "methodically-religious" person, I still would like to partake in my personal, pick-and-choose way.

Thus with Lent, I will be giving something up...

You know, I had planned on giving hoarding a stash of junk food in my room, but after receiving a package from Jane Hale today, I am not so sure that is an option... So after some thought, I tweeked the original notion and came up with this:

For lent, I will not buy any junk food to hoard away in my secret stash.
No Pringles. No peanuts. No Kanjeers. No chocolate covered raisins. No nutella.
...None.

Oh, and for Lent, I will also abstain from McDonalds.
...I think it's for the best. Even though that that Kit Kat McFlurry I last ordered had caramel mixed in it and was an absolute gift from the Gods...

So here's to counting down the days til Easter!

Oh Happy Day!

You know it's going to be a good day when, driving to and from school, you hear such hits as:

Thriller by Michael Jackson
I Can't Wait by Nu Shooz (which is one of the best jams ever!)
I'd Do Anything For Love by Meatloaf
Freeway of Love by Areatha Franklin

And yes, I did sing my heart out to all...

And then you come home for a little down time and have flowers delivered to you. Completely and totally unexpected. :)

What a day!
(And it's only 10 a.m.)

Travel Bug

So remember that time I had been in Europe for 5 months and had only been to all of 2 different countries?? ...Yeah, well I've gotta do something about that.

After making a list of "Places to Go" today, I realized that I have got to get a move on it I plan to visit even half of them...

So aside from spending next week in Norway, I now have prospective trips to Brussels, Portugal, and London lined up. And possible Aix-Province if I can afford it... Oh, and the Pink Pop music festival here in the Netherlands. Not to mention I'm going to study in Italy this summer. And if Victoria decided to study abroad, I'll spend my birthday in Cyprus.

...And I wonder why I am constantly broke.

But guess what... It's totally worth it.

Bakerella

Oh, and another link I came across on Stie's blog was this awesome site. If you like to bake or even just eat cute, yummy, fattening desserts at all, do yourself a favor and check it out.

I, myself, will be trying to make the Oreo Kisses this weekend for Valentine's Day. And if I could actaully find all the ingredients over here, I'd be making some of the other goodies, too... But unfortunately, I have yet to come across Red Velvet cake mix... :(
(Hint, hint: Start getting ready to send some care-packages full of ingredients this way!)

Picture Perfect Valentine

My ascension into blogging was a fluke. More or less something I stumbled upon really. This time a year ago, I did not blog, I did not read blogs, and I really did not even think about the whole concept of blogging at all. But one day while bored at work, I (while innocently Google-ing something regarding The Sound of Music), I stumbled upon this blog and have been hooked ever since.

Actually, it is one of maybe three blogs that I even keep up with. Oddly enough, it is the only blog I read that is kept by someone I don't physically know. (Don't judge. I promise it is not as stalkerish weird as it sounds.)

Anywho, Stie, who writes this blog, is awesome and completely relatable--or at least to me anyways. She is a creative, humerous, down-to-earth mother of three. And I quite envy her knack for photography and baking. So it is not uncommon for me to steal kindly borrow some of her clever ideas or delicious recipes...

And this is one such idea I've recently borrowed:







Aren't these awesome?!

Waffle House Ain't Got Nothing On Me!

This morning, I skipped breakfast. ...Not unusual.

This morning, when we opened the door to head to school, there was a fresh layer of powdery snow covering the ground (and streets). ...At this point, not unusual, yet still quite unexpected.

And thus because people cannot drive at a normal speed when there is a drop of precipitation on the ground or in the air--this is universal, I have come to find--, it took us a whopping hour to get to school. (We were late, no doubt.) And on the way back home, traffic was not much different. Another 45 minute drive...

Basically, the point I am coming to is that I was quite hungry by the time I got back to the house. Truthfully, I was starving by the time I even dropped the kids off. And sitting there in that bumper-to-bumper traffic only allowed my mind to start roaming to all the foods I could be stuffing my face with... Bacon. Eggs. Hash browns. Omelets. Pancakes. Eggos... Mmmm... A good hearty breakfast: That was something I hadn't had in a while... So breaking one of the cardinal rules of life, I took a detour on the way home and went to the grocery store while I was hungry.

Unfortunately, the selection at Albert Heijn* is not quite the selection of my treasured American Kroger or Walmart. There are no bagged hash browns in the freezer aisle. There are no Jimmy Dean, or even George Jones, sausage links. And there is no sliced bacon in the meat section (that I could find)... So having a limited selection, I grabbed anything that looked helpful and made my way home.
*Typical Dutch grocery store.

Pretty much, I wound with a sack of potatoes, "bacon" from the deli aisle, eggs, juice, syrup, and some little bite-size pancake looking puffs. And with these ingredients, I went to work on my masterpiece...

First I put my extremely thin slices of ham into the skillet and cooked them as if they were regular bacon. Then I peeled, sliced, and, for lack of a better word, grated my potatoes. When my bacon was done, I threw them in the skillet hash brown-style. In the meantime, I prepared my mini-pancakes. And while my potatoes were still frying, I threw in an egg on the other half of the skillet...

And viola!

When it was all said and done, I had one hell of a breakfast spread to sit down to. Oh how heavenly it was!

...And here are the pictures to prove it:

Before...



and

...After.



So watch out Waffle House, Huddle House, and Denny's. Cause I'm in the kitchen... And that's what's cookin'!
..And who knows, one morning next week, I may just attempt a Rooty Tooty Fresh'N'Fruity!

BFF Questions with Tom Harrison

So tonight I got to have a wondeful long Skype conversation with my favorite sister.

(Yes, I did just single out a favorite sister. And I can do that because 1) She is the only one of my sisters who reads this blog--and quite possibly the only one who knows how to operate a computer. 2) She is the only one I claim to be related to. And 3) Reba wrote this song about us.)


Anywho, in our true B.S.F--Best Sisters Forever--style, we talked endlessly about absolutely nothing of any importance at all. And during all the rambling, we somehow got on the subject of a certain parent (and step-parent) of ours who randlomly own handguns these days...

I (being the daughter with an exciting actual life 4,000 miles away) did not know about this until my BSF* filled me in. And What the ... was my initial reaction. I mean, why? And who actually deemed a certain one of these people physcilogically/socially fit enough to carry a handgun? And why does it seem that the people who have no business carry a weapon are the ones doing so?! ...I had so many questions, and to answer them, I decided to go straight to the source...
*Best Sister Forever

So I called Tom Harrison.

And thus, a new chapter in our lives began. I like to call it the BFF chapter. For you see, I didn't just call up Lowell and blurt out "Why do you have a hand gun?" and "Can I have two tickets to the gun show?"... Instead, I was strategic--or as the 43rd president of the United States might have said, I used strategery. And when I called him, I made a proposal that went a little something like this:

"Hey Dad. So I've decided that you and I should be new BFFs. Okay? Because you and I essentially don't really talk about anything other than the essentials in life, and thus, we don't know each other so well anymore... Right? So I've made a plan for us to become BFFs. Basically, everytime we talk, I get to ask you one question about you or your life, and you have to give me a straight answer. And in turn, you can ask me a question about me. That way we learn about eachother and can be BFFs. You're up for it, right? You wanna be my BFF?!"

Tom agreed to our BFF status. ...And after he agreed, I explained to him what a BFF was.

After that, the rest of the conversation went a little something like this:
*Please not, this is just a condensed re-cap.

Me: Alright, so as your new BFF, my first question for you is: Why do you find it necessary to own a handgun?
Tom: Well.... As the chief security officer of Eagle Motors and all it's properties...
Me: Dad, seriously.
Tom: Serisously, I am a home and business owner and it's a means of protection.
Me: But you do realize that you are living half-way between Sharon and Martin, right? It's not like your growing up in the streets of Hotlanta or Compton...
Tom: Well, do you know what one of the first Ammendments is? ...It's because men and women who carry guns that you have freedom today.
Me: Yes, I get it. I understand that as a collective country, our military needs weapons. And I am fine with that... But that doesn't mean every citizen needs to carry a gun just for the heck of it.
Tom: But do you know who fought to make us a country today and why we aren't part of England?
Me: Yes. Homeowners. Regualar everyday men. ...Mavericks, if you will. But we are an established country today and don't all need to bear arms to protect ourselves. We have militray forces for that. Besides, we aren't living in the 18th century either. While I do understand the need to feel security and protected in todays world, I do think that technology has advanced in such ways that you can take other precautions. Like security systems... By a taser, even. At least if you get into a squirmish and pull out a taser, you--or someone else--isn't likely to die. I mean, we're talking fatalities...
Tom: Yeah, well... [I stopped listening here]
Me: And you're grandfather. And a preacher. Aren't you suppose to set an example? Aren't we suppose to strive to follow in Jesus's footsteps?! And Jesus never carried a gun... Granted, they didn't have guns in his day, but still. Jesus didn't carry any kind of weapon. And he had alot of haters. Alot more than you have, I am sure. Lots of people wanted the worst for him. But he knew that he had God on his side and he trusted that God's plan was right... Shouldn't we exhibited that same kind of faith?!
Tom: Ummm.... Mmmm... Well, you just started a conversation that would last more that 5 minutes.
[His phone conveniently dies here]

So there you have it: My first BFF question session with Tom Harrison. And don't think it was just a big argument, cause it really wasn't. It was just a calm conversation or questions and rebuttals...

And of course, I will be sure to keep you all updated on future BFF discussions. Cause we are for real about our BFF status. He even signs his emails as "BFF Dad"--no joke...

So until next time...

Just To Gloat

...I can now play the intro to Billy Joel's "Piano Man" on my harmonica. And it might just be one of my life's greatest achievements thus far!

Places to Go:

So I came across this today on a friend's Facebook status regarding their recent/upcoming travels. And I decided to rip it off because I, too, need to visit all these places. And until I get my map of Europe--which I am picking up today--mounted on cork-board and marked with push-pins, I am going to post this so I will at least remember these places.

Prague
Vienna
Barcelona
Seville
Berlin--check
Budapest
Lyon
Brussels
Amsterdam
Valencia
Dublin
Florence--going to live there for a month!
Venice
Rome
Porto
Lisbon
Madrid
Marrakech

(Of course these are not all the places I want to visit by any means, but they do make for a good start!)

My Big (Harmonica) Debut

1) My hair is a hot mess, I know. Long story short, I let it dry on its own after getting out of the shower.

2) I am in Sara's room. (It was the best room (with shelving-and-chair setup) that I could find for my awesome video shoot.) So know I am not sleeping in the unmade bed with Dolphin sheets. ...I only sleep in an unmade bed.

3) Yes, I have been practicing, and yes, I can play the song even better and faster now. So don't judge me on my beginner's skills shown in the video! As a matter of fact, just don't judge me!

4) ...You know you're jealous.


So without further ado... Enjoy! Haha.




So until I order my new Harmonica for Dummies book off Amazon--which I am being totally serious about--that is all you get to see. But trust me, I'll keep practicing my one song wonder until then!

Oh When The Saints!

I just want to take a quick moment to brag about the fact that I can now play Oh When the Saints Go Marchin' In on my brand new Hohner harmonica. Oh, I've got it down pat, alright. (And by down pat, I mean somewhat, remotely similar if-you-listen-just-right to the actual melody of the real song...)

So look out Faith Doster! Cause tonight, you're getting a Skype call of nothing but pure, melodic, When the Saints Go Marchin' In goodness!

Why I Love Ian

At this very moment, he is explaining to me what a "boob" is. He keeps simply explaining that a "boob" is a breast. This whole conversation was brought on when I asked if the bras in the laundry belonged to his mother or sister. (Trust me, I am a completely terrible judge of which clothes belong to who in this household.) So he proceeded to inform me that they were definitely his mothers because Rahel doesn't have breasts yet. Didn't I know that?! And he must have then assumed that I, being so clueless about the bras, also needed to be taught the definition of a "boob". ...Just hearing him talking in his 6-year-old-European-English accent about "boobs" cracks me up.


Every kid in the house loves to read. On any given afternoon or morning, you kind find at least two of them with nose buried in a book. The latest craze of books around the house is Daffy Duck cartoons. All three of them love the books. Ian especially... So many times when we are riding to school, Ian passes the time with Daffy. Those are always good drives because he and Sara are actually quiet--AKA, not fighting. Even better (in that calm silence), are the mornings when Ian has picked up a particularly funny volume of Daffy Duck, and thus while reading along, laughs out loud. In the backseat to no one in particular, he will retell Daffy's latest escapade, and the whole time, he won't be able to stop laughing. It is the cutest thing...


Ian is definitely the "clown" in the family. He is silly. He cracks himself up. And he loves it. He is also the one who can crack me up on the toughest of days with just his innocent dinner-time "one-liners". I swear, there is never a dull moment with that kid! And I love him for it.

If Richard Gere Can Do It...

So today, we had a sick kid at the house. When Ian woke up this morning, he was running a fever. So instead of going to school, he got to stay home with me.

Piece of cake, right? I mean... Just monitor his fever, let him get some sleep, make him some tea and soup, and so on... Well, I thought so until I had a conversation with Esther.

Just so you know, Esther is a doctor. So she always knows how to handle any illness that comes along. And before she left to go to the hospital this morning, she gave me a briefing.

...Long story short, the conversation was peppered with words such as "rectal", "suppository", and "anis".... Ummm, yeah, about that... I was silently freaking out to say that least.

Luckily, though, Ian's fever didn't start rising til after dinner, and by that time, Ian and I both agreed to wait for Esther to administer the medicine. So I did not have to put on the latex gloves, grab the baby oil, and.... Ugh! I don't even want to think about it!!

However, I did get to "witness" how it was done. ...And that was awkward enough.

So here is hoping Ian feels better tomorrow. Not only for his sake, but also for my sake... Cause I'm not sure I can do it...

One Woman Show

Good news!

My next post might just be a video of me playing a harmonica to the tune of Judy Garland's greatest hits while wearing a patriotic T-shirt and Elton John socks...

(Hang with me...)

And that will be possible because of the package I received in the mail today!! Some of my loyal blog readers--AKA, my sister and cousin--sent me a box of sheer awesomeness...

Included was:
A harmonica, because I (for real) really want to learn to play the harmonica and accordion. So one down, and one to go...
Elton John socks... Cause I loooove Elton and he rocks my socks off!
An extremely patriotic Star Spangled Banner T-shirt that my niece Maddie brought me back from her Washington, D.C. trip. (And you best know I have been wearing all day!)
Judy Garland's Greatest Hits--because Sarah loves Judy.
The book entitled "When Catherine the Great and I Were Eight!"--no doubt just because of the simple fact it mentions my name.
Oh, and did I mention a Flip Video Camera?!

Woo hoo! I am set! Not to mention there were other small and equally awesome--except the Ipod case from the Dollar Tree that doesn't fit any iPod I own or ever have owned--gifts as well.

...And just think, it is not even Martin Luther King Christmas* yet!
*MLK Christmas is a Faith Doster reference essentially meaning the exchanging of gifts two months after Christmas because you can't afford to during the actual holiday season.

My Goals for the Next Few Months

1) Norway
2) Pay off college loans
3) Italian Photography School (for Summer '10)
4) Legit new Digital camera with Manual Settings (for my Italian Into to Photojournalism class)
5) MacBook Pro


...With all the money I'll save on bar tabs thanks to my new-found notion to sober up, I think it just might be doable!! (Well, all but number 5 for sure!)

What To Do? What To Do?

So... The family and I have recently realized that with all of the kids' summer activities--camps, visits to grandparents, etc.--and both Esther and Stefan's vacation schedules, I am going to have a whole 6 weeks off work this summer. Flippin' Sweet! In talking more about it tonight, Esther suggested the idea of possibly studying abroad. (When she was younger, she took a 6-week course in France and learned French.) And I really liked the idea...

So I've been Google-ing some of the possibilities and this is what I have come up so far...

Should I study French in France? Maybe Paris, or the South coast?
Should I take cooking classes in France?
Or maybe learn more about wine?
Or should I spend that time in Italy?
...Maybe taking a photography class?
There offer Italian cooking and wine courses, too...
Or should I dust off my old Spanish skills from Marcia Darnell and head to Spain?
After all, if I study in Spain, there is a course that combines learning to scuba dive with Spanish.
Or maybe I should do some volunteer work somewhere?
Or....

What, oh what, should I do this summer?!
(I am so ecstatic to have such a "predicament"!)

If you have any ideas, suggestions, or dreams of your own that I could borrow for a summer, please let me know! I am so open-minded at this point, and I can't wait to figure something out!

Every Woman Should...

So in my funk of this weekend, I've been unable to coax out the blogger inside me. I've been a downer to say the least. So instead of a real post, here is instead a word from Maya Angelou.

Every Woman Should...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own, even if she never wants to or needs to…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
something perfect to wear if the employer, or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
a youth she’s content to leave behind….

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
a past juicy enough that she’s looking forward to
retelling it in her old age….

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
one friend who always makes her laugh… and one who lets her cry…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal, that will make her guests feel honored…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
a feeling of control over her destiny.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to fall in love without losing herself.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without; ruining the friendship…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
when to try harder… and WHEN TO WALK AWAY…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
that she can’t change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
that her childhood may not have been perfect…but its over…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
what she would and wouldn’t do for love or more…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to live alone… even if she doesn’t like it…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
whom she can trust,
whom she can’t,
and why she shouldn’t take it personally…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
where to go…
be it to her best friend’s kitchen table…
or a charming inn in the woods…
when her soul needs soothing…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
what she can and can’t accomplish in a day…
a month…and a year…