Sunday, March 29, 2009
stay tuned
And I am trying to figure out the best way to show pictures from the trip. My photos are limited, but I am starting to sort through footage (stay tuned). But others have photos that are being uploaded to photobucket and flikr. So I'll see what I can do...
I should be cleaning my room, so I'll post an entry instead.
When is the best time to make decisions- either good, bad, or indifferent decisions? I know the best time for me to make bad decisions is when I am intoxicated. That is NOT the time to make life-changing choices. But I am not sure about my "good" decisions. What is a good decision and how long do you have to wait until you know it was a good choice?
I made the decisions to go to graduate school pretty much on a whim. I was talking with a professor at NMSU my last year before I graduated and he suggested graduate school. I had just several life-changing events happen in the few shorts months leading up to that moment (in which I had no control over) and had no idea where my life was going. He mentioned something about how I would do well at graduate school. I said, "OK." He asked where I had thought about applying (I hadn't yet), and I looked up at his wall saw an MTSU poster (as he was a guest speaker/professor the summer before and spoke highly of the program at MTSU), and I pointed at the poster and said, "there." And that was that. I applied. I didn't really have a back up plan if I wasn't accepted into this program; I considered teaching in Japan for a few years if I didn't get accepted, otherwise, I had no idea. You can imagine why I was so ecstatic when I received my acceptance letter.
As for my summer before grad school, I needed a job and intended to work in Atlanta as my parents were living there at the time. The jobs weren't as readily available as I had hoped and one night over bar-b-que chicken and mashed potatoes, I decided I wanted to work at Disney World as that was a dream of mine. That was Wednesday night and on Friday morning my sister and I drove to Orlando and secured a place to stay over the summer as well as jobs at Frontierland in the Magic Kingdom. That summer was fantastic. It was hard as the living expenses were high and I had to secure a second job (and working 70 hours a week to have nothing to show for it at the end of three months is a little ridiculous), but that has been one of the best summers of my life.
The decision to go to the Pacific was also made in a short period of time. I saw the poster and told myself I would go. I heard from Bethany about the trip the next afternoon, emailed Dr. Frisby, and clicked the "accept" button for my student loan to fund the trip in a matter of three hours. I made up my mind that I would go see those WWII sites and that was that.
I would argue that those were good decisions and I would not change anything if I had a choice. I make my decision and I run with it, that's just how I roll. I have to start making some decisions about my future and that has thrown me for a loop. Jet-lag hasn't really helped my thought process, either. But it is my feeling that we don't have much time on this earth (what, like 100 years at most? I've already used like a quarter of that time, too) and we have to make the most of the time we are given. I've got nine months left of graduate school (I hope!). I have decided that I want to see more of overseas while I am young and unattached. I am guessing Europe with a GS job. I can't say exactly what I will do, but when the opportunity presents itself, I'll know it and will run with it. Regardless, I'm flexible. And spontaneous. Maybe a posting from next month will read "My life in India." Who knows?
I made the decisions to go to graduate school pretty much on a whim. I was talking with a professor at NMSU my last year before I graduated and he suggested graduate school. I had just several life-changing events happen in the few shorts months leading up to that moment (in which I had no control over) and had no idea where my life was going. He mentioned something about how I would do well at graduate school. I said, "OK." He asked where I had thought about applying (I hadn't yet), and I looked up at his wall saw an MTSU poster (as he was a guest speaker/professor the summer before and spoke highly of the program at MTSU), and I pointed at the poster and said, "there." And that was that. I applied. I didn't really have a back up plan if I wasn't accepted into this program; I considered teaching in Japan for a few years if I didn't get accepted, otherwise, I had no idea. You can imagine why I was so ecstatic when I received my acceptance letter.
As for my summer before grad school, I needed a job and intended to work in Atlanta as my parents were living there at the time. The jobs weren't as readily available as I had hoped and one night over bar-b-que chicken and mashed potatoes, I decided I wanted to work at Disney World as that was a dream of mine. That was Wednesday night and on Friday morning my sister and I drove to Orlando and secured a place to stay over the summer as well as jobs at Frontierland in the Magic Kingdom. That summer was fantastic. It was hard as the living expenses were high and I had to secure a second job (and working 70 hours a week to have nothing to show for it at the end of three months is a little ridiculous), but that has been one of the best summers of my life.
The decision to go to the Pacific was also made in a short period of time. I saw the poster and told myself I would go. I heard from Bethany about the trip the next afternoon, emailed Dr. Frisby, and clicked the "accept" button for my student loan to fund the trip in a matter of three hours. I made up my mind that I would go see those WWII sites and that was that.
I would argue that those were good decisions and I would not change anything if I had a choice. I make my decision and I run with it, that's just how I roll. I have to start making some decisions about my future and that has thrown me for a loop. Jet-lag hasn't really helped my thought process, either. But it is my feeling that we don't have much time on this earth (what, like 100 years at most? I've already used like a quarter of that time, too) and we have to make the most of the time we are given. I've got nine months left of graduate school (I hope!). I have decided that I want to see more of overseas while I am young and unattached. I am guessing Europe with a GS job. I can't say exactly what I will do, but when the opportunity presents itself, I'll know it and will run with it. Regardless, I'm flexible. And spontaneous. Maybe a posting from next month will read "My life in India." Who knows?
Thursday, March 26, 2009
I am what they call in the training business a "peak-to-sooner"
Now that I am home, I just want to go back. Did I not say that I would forget the oppressive heat and annoying bugs of the Pacific? I don't know if it was the travel or the break from school or the meeting of new people or what, but I am ready to move along. I've always had a sort of itch to keep going and seeing new places (I think that comes from being an Army brat) but that itch remained mostly neutral since I've been in Tennessee. Now I want to leave Tennessee. Stupid school.
I'm not sure if I will continue blogging. I like it and I've had some people ask if I will continue. I think so? Maybe not? I will take it day by day. I will feel weird if I am not writing with a purpose (like keeping family and friends posted about adventures on a trip). I suppose I could document my progress in school as I approach the end (if all goes well, I will graduate in December). Or I could blog about how I quit school and joined the circus (don't laugh, I'd do it... except that clowns scare me).*
I feel that I may have been a "peak-to-sooner." I worked so hard as an undergrad and have pushed myself as a graduate student. I positioned myself, too, to succeed in the masters program so I could be accepted in a PhD program (and theoretically succeed there to theoretically get a job). Now I lack the motivation to finish my masters program [don't freak out, Mom and Dad- I'll finish]. I just have to keep telling myself I have nine more months and then I am free to do whatever I want. I haven't decided if I want to be a park ranger or work overseas. Park Ranger for the National Park Service is, by far, the best job ever. Unfortunately, it is mostly limited to the US. I was looking at federal jobs overseas today and found a number that I would be content doing in Europe or Asia, but the jobs themselves would not be as cool as being a park ranger.
I suppose I could just chill out and enjoy my time here. The weather is warming up and I love summertime. And I have an outstanding group of friends here. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night (as my body was telling me it was the middle of the day and I should not sleep regardless of how tired I was) and decided to read for a bit. Ecclesiates is becoming one of my new favorite books.
"Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end. So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God... So I saw that there is nothing better for people than to be happy in their work. That is why we are here! No one will bring us back from death to enjoy life after we die." (Ecc. 3:11-13, 22)
It's just hard to remember that when day-to-day stress rears its ugly head and makes me want to quit school and live in a van by the river.
*(I would like to take this time to admit to my over-use of parenthesis. I don't know why I like them so much, I just do.)
I'm not sure if I will continue blogging. I like it and I've had some people ask if I will continue. I think so? Maybe not? I will take it day by day. I will feel weird if I am not writing with a purpose (like keeping family and friends posted about adventures on a trip). I suppose I could document my progress in school as I approach the end (if all goes well, I will graduate in December). Or I could blog about how I quit school and joined the circus (don't laugh, I'd do it... except that clowns scare me).*
I feel that I may have been a "peak-to-sooner." I worked so hard as an undergrad and have pushed myself as a graduate student. I positioned myself, too, to succeed in the masters program so I could be accepted in a PhD program (and theoretically succeed there to theoretically get a job). Now I lack the motivation to finish my masters program [don't freak out, Mom and Dad- I'll finish]. I just have to keep telling myself I have nine more months and then I am free to do whatever I want. I haven't decided if I want to be a park ranger or work overseas. Park Ranger for the National Park Service is, by far, the best job ever. Unfortunately, it is mostly limited to the US. I was looking at federal jobs overseas today and found a number that I would be content doing in Europe or Asia, but the jobs themselves would not be as cool as being a park ranger.
I suppose I could just chill out and enjoy my time here. The weather is warming up and I love summertime. And I have an outstanding group of friends here. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night (as my body was telling me it was the middle of the day and I should not sleep regardless of how tired I was) and decided to read for a bit. Ecclesiates is becoming one of my new favorite books.
"Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end. So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God... So I saw that there is nothing better for people than to be happy in their work. That is why we are here! No one will bring us back from death to enjoy life after we die." (Ecc. 3:11-13, 22)
It's just hard to remember that when day-to-day stress rears its ugly head and makes me want to quit school and live in a van by the river.
*(I would like to take this time to admit to my over-use of parenthesis. I don't know why I like them so much, I just do.)
Clockzi
This is how I feel like. And how I will probably feel like for the next several days.
Stupid jet lag.
Stupid jet lag.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
I'm Home!
I am at my house on Brandywine, yay! I made it alive (with some severely swollen ankles that my roommate keeps making fun of). And the best part: my luggage made all the way through. It was a little beat up, but everything was there.
Whew!
Whew!
In Houston
I tried to connect to the internet here in the Houston Airport, but it is not letting me. While I was sitting here, minding my own business some random guy decided to sit by me and start a conversation about his dying father in Little Rock and how he is laying over in Houston. I am pretty sure he is drunk. He has told me about his dad three times already and I just smile and nod. But he still keeps talking. Maybe I should tell him that my mom said I shouldn’t talk to strangers.
I leave for Nashville in less than an hour. I am debating if I need to create a reason to escape or just let him keep talking to me. Now he is telling me about his drug addict girlfriend. Everything happens for a reason.
People watching is fun here. It would be a lot more fun if dude wasn’t talking my ear off. I think I need to go walk around and pretend to stretch my legs. I’ll post all this when I get back to the Boro.
I leave for Nashville in less than an hour. I am debating if I need to create a reason to escape or just let him keep talking to me. Now he is telling me about his drug addict girlfriend. Everything happens for a reason.
People watching is fun here. It would be a lot more fun if dude wasn’t talking my ear off. I think I need to go walk around and pretend to stretch my legs. I’ll post all this when I get back to the Boro.
I think there is a theory about days like these
Isn’t there a law that if something can go wrong it will? That has been my day and unfortunately the day is not close to being over. I am currently flying on the plane from Honolulu to Houston back in time. Once we arrive in Nashville, we will have traveled a solid 26 hours, yet it will only be four hours later in the day. Thank you, International Dateline.
Last night I attempted to take a nap before we had to leave at 11pm for the Korror Airport. I accidentally had my alarm set to Guam time so I shorted myself an hour from that nap but realized that too late. I got to chat online with a friend so that made me feel better. We loaded our bags on the bus then headed for the airport. The Palau Airport stinks and I don’t mean that literally. I needed to mail postcards from Palau, but they had no postbox from the airport. Ok, cool, I’ll do it from Guam. The check-in crew demonstrated how stoked they were to work at the airport with their smiles, friendly service, and happy attitudes. Oh, wait. There was none of that. The only positive that came out of the fact that the attendants so clearly did not care about service, that they didn’t care that our bags were a little overweight. I’ll take the crankypants check-in clerks in return for NOT having to pay an extra $50 for overweight luggage. So that worked in our favor. I got caught in the security because my ziplock bag filled with my 3.5 oz bottles of liquids was not good enough for the Palau Airport so I had to walk to the restaurant next door to purchase a 50 cent “authorized” ziplock bag. If that doesn’t have “scam” written all over it, I don’t know what does.
We finally take off, authorized ziplock bags and all, only to land an hour later on the island of Yap. The attendant came on over the loudspeakers, “Please, everybody in rows 5 through 28, seats A, B, and C get off the plane and wait in the terminal.” I was in 17C. What!? Why? I want to nap, lady! It is 2 in the morning! How come the other half of the plane gets to stay in their seats? I’m not going and you can’t make me!
So I got off the plane and waited in the Yap Airport. Where is Yap? At this moment, I still have no idea. I had flashbacks to the Iwo trip in which we were escorted off the plane only to wait in the hangar (too bad they weren’t playing Flags of Our Fathers like at Iwo. At least then we’d have something to do). I will look it up when I get home. So now I can say that I have been to Yap. It’ll be a good story to tell when awkward silences arise at group events. “I’ve been to Yap before.” That’ll impress people.
We loaded the plane (again), got settled in and I napped my way to Guam. In Guam we had to unload the plane, go through Immigration and back through security (trip #2) with just enough time to spare to get on the plane to Honolulu. Again, I looked for a postbox and was informed that there was not one in the airport. I want to know why not? Seriously? Does nobody mail postcards anymore? Have the blue post office boxes fallen to the wayside as people blog their life away? Why send a postcard when I can send a link from the airport? Oh, well, I’ll just carry them to Hawai’i.
I got on the plane, nestled in for the seven hour flight, napped for a bit, watched a funny movie, did some yoga moves outside the bathrooms, attempted to nap again, played some hangman, all while trying to remain patient. Home, home, home! was all that ran through my head. We landed in Honolulu, had to go through Customs, and eventually back through security (trip #3). To go through security we have to get our bags from baggage claim then re-check them through. The bags from our flight kept coming and I twiddled my thumbs. La la la. Where is my second bag? Ho hum, this is fun, but why have the conveyor belts stopped? Where is my bag?! Somewhere between Palau and Honolulu, that’s where. Probably stuck on the stupid island of Yap.
So I will have to file a baggage claim at Nashville. I am rather upset. I was stomping around the duty free store in Honolulu, but nobody cared in there. Stupid chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. It’s their fault. Ok, maybe it is nobody’s fault, but I was still irked. And those macadamia nuts are a good size for throwing. I thought about getting them to either throw at people or eat my feelings. I did neither. I did finally find a post office box outside the duty-free store, so any postcards sent (regardless of where they are from) have Honolulu postmarks. Oh, well.
I should sleep now. I just have visions of my box being washed up on an island in the Pacific somewhere with Tom Hanks and Wilson. Maybe he can use my camera, bag-full of Iwo Jima sand, clothes, journal, books, and running shoes.
Wilson! Wil-hil-sa-hon!
Last night I attempted to take a nap before we had to leave at 11pm for the Korror Airport. I accidentally had my alarm set to Guam time so I shorted myself an hour from that nap but realized that too late. I got to chat online with a friend so that made me feel better. We loaded our bags on the bus then headed for the airport. The Palau Airport stinks and I don’t mean that literally. I needed to mail postcards from Palau, but they had no postbox from the airport. Ok, cool, I’ll do it from Guam. The check-in crew demonstrated how stoked they were to work at the airport with their smiles, friendly service, and happy attitudes. Oh, wait. There was none of that. The only positive that came out of the fact that the attendants so clearly did not care about service, that they didn’t care that our bags were a little overweight. I’ll take the crankypants check-in clerks in return for NOT having to pay an extra $50 for overweight luggage. So that worked in our favor. I got caught in the security because my ziplock bag filled with my 3.5 oz bottles of liquids was not good enough for the Palau Airport so I had to walk to the restaurant next door to purchase a 50 cent “authorized” ziplock bag. If that doesn’t have “scam” written all over it, I don’t know what does.
We finally take off, authorized ziplock bags and all, only to land an hour later on the island of Yap. The attendant came on over the loudspeakers, “Please, everybody in rows 5 through 28, seats A, B, and C get off the plane and wait in the terminal.” I was in 17C. What!? Why? I want to nap, lady! It is 2 in the morning! How come the other half of the plane gets to stay in their seats? I’m not going and you can’t make me!
So I got off the plane and waited in the Yap Airport. Where is Yap? At this moment, I still have no idea. I had flashbacks to the Iwo trip in which we were escorted off the plane only to wait in the hangar (too bad they weren’t playing Flags of Our Fathers like at Iwo. At least then we’d have something to do). I will look it up when I get home. So now I can say that I have been to Yap. It’ll be a good story to tell when awkward silences arise at group events. “I’ve been to Yap before.” That’ll impress people.
We loaded the plane (again), got settled in and I napped my way to Guam. In Guam we had to unload the plane, go through Immigration and back through security (trip #2) with just enough time to spare to get on the plane to Honolulu. Again, I looked for a postbox and was informed that there was not one in the airport. I want to know why not? Seriously? Does nobody mail postcards anymore? Have the blue post office boxes fallen to the wayside as people blog their life away? Why send a postcard when I can send a link from the airport? Oh, well, I’ll just carry them to Hawai’i.
I got on the plane, nestled in for the seven hour flight, napped for a bit, watched a funny movie, did some yoga moves outside the bathrooms, attempted to nap again, played some hangman, all while trying to remain patient. Home, home, home! was all that ran through my head. We landed in Honolulu, had to go through Customs, and eventually back through security (trip #3). To go through security we have to get our bags from baggage claim then re-check them through. The bags from our flight kept coming and I twiddled my thumbs. La la la. Where is my second bag? Ho hum, this is fun, but why have the conveyor belts stopped? Where is my bag?! Somewhere between Palau and Honolulu, that’s where. Probably stuck on the stupid island of Yap.
So I will have to file a baggage claim at Nashville. I am rather upset. I was stomping around the duty free store in Honolulu, but nobody cared in there. Stupid chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. It’s their fault. Ok, maybe it is nobody’s fault, but I was still irked. And those macadamia nuts are a good size for throwing. I thought about getting them to either throw at people or eat my feelings. I did neither. I did finally find a post office box outside the duty-free store, so any postcards sent (regardless of where they are from) have Honolulu postmarks. Oh, well.
I should sleep now. I just have visions of my box being washed up on an island in the Pacific somewhere with Tom Hanks and Wilson. Maybe he can use my camera, bag-full of Iwo Jima sand, clothes, journal, books, and running shoes.
Wilson! Wil-hil-sa-hon!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
When in Palau, do as that Palauvians?
Alan Jackson sings a song called, "Gone Country." I think I need a song called "Gone Native." No, I am not running around in a loin cloth, we haven't gone THAT far, yet. But I am wearing linen, plaid burmuda shorts that I haven't washed since the last time I wore them on Guam (don't get me started on the laundry issue) and my chaco sandals, haven't shaved my legs in over a week, haven't worn a stitch of makeup in over 10 days, have remnants of a sunburn that I got yesterday on the boat back from Peleliu (so it almost looks like I have a tan), only used hand sanitizer twice in the last three days (after crawling around caves, so it was a little necessary), and eat raw crab that I catch with a makeshift spear I've created with native wood and coral. Just kidding about that last part. Seriously, though. I won't recognize me when I arrive in Nashville. Neither will my friends. I may have to hold up a sign at the airport with my name on it like limo drivers do...
In Korror
I am sitting in the lobby of the hotel we are staying at, the Green Bay Hotel (no relation to the Packers...), listening to rainfall in the jungle, typing away on my computer. A mosquito keeps buzzing around my head, reminding me that I did not reapply my bug spray after my shower. I'll end up with malaria on my last day in the Pacific, just watch.
I am going to post the entries that I have been saving in word document form in just a bit. I thought I would attempt some form of reflection about the last few days. Peleliu was amazing for many reasons. The island is beautiful, the people are friendly, and there is WWII stuff EVERYWHERE. Many of the caves still have yet to be explored. I am sitting here, trying to digest everything I have seen and done in these last few days (not to mention last few weeks!).
I am ready to go back home, if only just to sleep in my own bed. I am looking forward to a shower in my own shower, the ability to drink from the faucet if I so desire, sleeping in my own bed, and even cuddling with my annoying, stinky kitties. While I am anxious to get off of this island, I think the distance from this trip, both in time and in location, will only magnify the trip in my memories. I will tell of the awesome treks through the jungle to see the tanks and live ammunition and neglect to tell of the killer mosquitoes and fear of cave crickets. I will regale friends and family stories of the magnificence that is the Pacific, ignoring the fact that I would never chose to live here for any length of time. This is definitely a place I would love to visit again, but I don't believe island life is for me. (That's because I live a pirate's life...).
We rode back on a boat today from Peleliu to Palau. I used to think "azul" was the prettiest word for the color blue. It is no match for the blue of the ocean here around the islands. The words breathless, gorgeous, beautiful, fantastic, magnificent, stunning, inspiring, and amazing could be thrown into a verbal blender and whatever cool word concoction they made all together would not describe the beauty of these islands. I think I want to learn how to scuba dive and will make my way back here one day to see the beauty that exists under the water.
But that is the future. So for now, I will enjoy my surroundings, look forward to the time I will get to spend in my own bed, and fold the memories of this trip up to stick in my mental pocket and carry with me forever.
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