God Bless Us Everyone

Are the radio stations kidding me with the Christmas songs? I mean really. It’s not even December yet and they are already playing Christmas songs. Come on.

And everywhere I look there is Christmas cheer and warm wishes and what not. It’s already making me ill. Last weekend my roommate was all ready to go get the Christmas tree, cause “We want to have as much time as we can with it.” Apparently there is quality time to be had with the Christmas tree. I did not know that. But it makes sense, seeing as though we bring it into our house to die. Kinda like we are operating a Christmas tree hospice in our home, guiding the tree on its peaceful journey to the other side. Hopefully a Christmas tree doesn’t have to go towards the white light when it dies, as that might be confusing, seeing as though it’s coming from quite a few white lights. That are wrapped around it.

Last year my blond, positive roommate turned on the Christmas carols and poured eggnog when we were decorating. I grabbed a Mountain Dew instead. When I saw a look of genuine disappointment spread across her face I said, “Look, the can is green! Festive!” In that same spirit of the holiday I thought I would share with you a holiday song I made up last year. These are just the lyrics, I’ll have to see if I can upload the actual singing of the song later. It is my hope that this song travels the land this year and maybe if I’m lucky, someday I’ll turn my radio on in mid-October and I’ll hear these very words. It’s a little ditty I like to call:

Chriskwanzikah!

I do Chriskwanzikah cause I wannika
Get lots of presents for me!
There’s Christmas and Hanukkah
Why not make it three?
So they made up Merry Kwanzaa
For seven more days of fun
Gather round now, get closer
The fun has just begun!

Ba ba ba ba

Put your yamikah on, it’ll be so much fun
As we gather around the tree
Opening presents wrapped in red and blue
And sing a little R&B

We’ll deck the halls and eat matzah balls
And do a Soul Train in the snow
Three sistas throw a dreidel at Santa Claus
Sayin’ “Who ya callin’ Ho Ho Ho?”

Ba ba ba ba
BA BA BA BA

I do Chriskwanzikah cause I wannika
Get lots of presents for me!
There’s Christmas and Hanukkah
Why not make it three?
So they made up Merry Kwanzaa
For seven more days of fun
Gather round now, get closer
The fun has just begun!

Ba ba ba ba
BA BA BA BA

The menorah's lit, the eggnog's a hit
And we’ve all had too many sweets
Rabbi Sam talks about Bethlehem
And that Kwanzaa guy from Long Beach

It’s so much fun for everyone
Whether you’re black or white or an elf
We got holiday cheer coming out our ears
So try to control yourself!

Ba ba ba ba
BA BA BA BA

I do Chriskwanzikah cause I wannika
Get lots of presents for me!
There’s Christmas and Hanukkah
Why not make it three?
So they made up Merry Kwanzaa
For seven more days of fun
Gather round now, get closer
The fun has just begun!

Ba ba ba ba
BA BA BA BA



I know, I know. It’s a catchy little number. And informational as well. Did you know that Kwanzaa was started by a guy in Long Beach? You do now, because of my cross-cultural song of peace and matzah balls.

God bless us everyone.

Red Alert

Someone please alert the Feds. We have a situation on our hands. Please try not to panic.

It seems as though all stores are out of Boboli “make it yourself” pizza bread. Yes, I know it’s quite a lot to take in all at once. Take a few deep breaths if you need to.

See, I’m taking care of my young cousin for a few days. Every once in awhile I take care of her for a few days or a week or whatever. And every once in awhile I realize how very far I am from being ready to have a kid. They take up a lot of time and energy and food. Lots of food. They enjoy eating. Which is always the hardest part for me, considering I live primarily on Bags o' Salad and Twinkies. Kids don’t care that ALL of the necessary ingredients come in ONE bag of salad. They want other things, like meat and carbs and milk. Whatever.

So I took the kid shopping yesterday, hoping to find many a thing to nourish her. I asked her what she wanted, she said mac n’ cheese. I said, no we have to eat real food. She said, “How about Boboli?” I said, “Sounds fantastic!”

Cause come on, she’s not my kid, I only have her for a few days. It’s not like I’m establishing life-long eating habits for her. I’m just trying to keep her alive until her rightful guardian returns. So we wandered the grocery store, looking for the Boboli. We got the cheese, we got the canadian bacon, we got the pepperoni but we couldn’t seem to locate the all-important pizza dough-y stuff. First we wondered where exactly we’d even look for it, because if I remember correctly Boboli doesn’t hang out with the other bread products. It usually has it’s own little display. Which means it could be displayed anywhere in a store. Joy of joys. Finally I asked the Grocery Man where I could find the Boboli and he directed me to the first aisle. Next to the cream cheese. OF COURSE! Where else would the Boboli be? But sadly, when we arrived to the first aisle we found no Boboli. They were all sold out. Oh no!

So we went to sushi instead. I dislike cooking so much that I actually took the kid to eat raw food. Best parental figure ever.

Then tonight we went to another store, in search of the elusive Boboli, determined to use a stove in the preparation of a meal. Yet again we could not fine the Boboli. Yet again we found a Grocery Man to guide us. This Grocery Man broke the bad news to us, “There is no Boboli.” “Huh?” “There was a fire at the Boboli factory, there won’t be Boboli for awhile.”

And then the child and I fell to the floor and screamed, “Nooooooooooo!!!!!!”

Or we just laughed really hard and grabbed some frozen pizzas instead.

But don’t worry, I put the pizza in the oven, instead of using the microwave option, so we really felt like we were cooking. And I poured some milk and peeled a carrot for her to eat (I don’t know why the ten year old asked to eat a big ass carrot before dinner, but it seemed wrong to say no).

And then we watched a two hour block of America’s Funniest Home Videos and laughed at people getting hit in the crotch.

Ya’ll just let me know if you want me to babysit. As soon as the Boboli factory is back in working order I’ll be available for all your childcare needs...

My Tivo is Possessed

So I got the Tivo a few weeks ago, hoping that it would tape all the wonders of November sweeps while I was gone in a foreign country that is not lucky enough to having November sweeps. (How do people live like that? Do you suppose there is an international volunteer organization that brings television to poor nations? There really should be, it’s a shame to see people suffer like that.)

Anywho, when I got back from said foreign land, ready to embrace my Tivo and all the wonderful programming it held for me, I found that my Tivo held very little. Because of an (my) error, the Tivo only taped about a third of what it should have. There were tears, screaming out to the gods, and other equally rational behaviors.

And I think the gods heard me. Because now the Tivo is going recording crazy. It records EVERYTHING. Every time I walk into my room the Tivo’s little red recording light is on, trying to make the whole November sweeps debacle up to me. Those of you (sad people) who don’t own a Tivo might not know that the Tivo has this little feature wherein it makes note of the shows that you are taping and then searches for other shows that you might be interested in, based on your taping preferences.

First of all, does this seem a little too Big Brother for anyone else? I feel so self conscious when I set the Tivo to tape a show. I wonder what kind of mental notes the machine is making about me and if it is judging my choice in television entertainment. I feel like maybe I should tape that cheesy Amy Grant show ‘Three Wishes’ every week, just so it thinks I’m a good person.
This paranoia did not come out of nowhere. The other night I was watching ‘Sex and the City’ and I gave the show three thumbs up, to let Tivo know that I liked it. The next day, I kid you friggin’ not, Tivo recorded ‘The 700 Club’ and ‘7th Heaven’. Are you familiar with these shows? ‘The 700 Club’ is hosted by Pat Robertson, the Crazy Christian Guy who makes Normal Christian People look like Charles Manson in comparison to his racist, homophobic, short-sighted, hate-spewing ass. And 7th Heaven is about a preacher and a his family. I think. I don’t really know. All I really know is that my Tivo is trying to cleanse my soul of the impurities I’ve seen on ‘Sex and the City’ by offering me religious programming.

It also seems as though my Tivo is a little confused. When I look at the shows it’s taped I see the following: Good Times, Saved by the Bell: The College Years, Nip/Tuck, The 700 Club, Friends, Will & Grace, The Andy Griffith Show, The View, 7th Heaven...and the list goes on and on. What the? I do not understand a Tivo that thinks I would like both ‘Nip/Tuck’ and ‘The 700 Club’. Anyone who believes the crap they are spewing on ‘The 700 Club’ would be afraid of being struck down by God himself if they even thought about watching ‘Nip/Tuck’.

One thing we can all agree on though: Saved by the Bell rocks.

Eating to Feed the Hungry

Yesterday I was convinced, as I am each year, to participate in a confusing fundraiser called “Run to Feed the Hungry”. There are so many things that aren’t right about this annual event:

1. First of all of the roughly 20,000 people doing this “Run”, only about oh, maybe 10 are actually running. The rest of us are walking. And we are barely even doing that. There are people who actually bring wagons with children and coffee and snacks in them. The race pace is such that at no time are the children, coffee or snacks ever in any danger of being tipped or bounced at all. Also the parent who is dragging all of this cargo is really not very tired by the end of this 3 mile race, which means that perhaps the word “run” in the name of the race is a little bit of stretch…

2. Which is fine. Because I think the rest of the name is a stretch as well. As I don’t really understand how my running (or waddling, as it were) is feeding the hungry. Yes, I get that my registration fee goes to charity, and that’s all well and good. But why not cut out all this silly early rising and slow moving and just write a check to the charity? Wouldn’t that accomplish the same thing? Without the muscle aches? I’m just saying.

3. When we are done with this run/really barely walking we are showered with various food and beverage to replenish the 4 calories we just burned. Does this seem ironic to anyone else? That we are eating at a Run to FEED the HUNGRY? One might point out that the HUNGRY might enjoy and need the food and beverage we were consuming a little more than we do. But then one might be cynical. And that’s not really my style.

4. Did I mention the early rising and slow moving? No me gusta. Why can’t we feed the hungry after noon sometime? Why do I have to get up at 7 a.m. to feed the hungry? And why do I have to burn calories so that others can eat calories? I don’t get it. But most of all I don’t get why my Shake Awake alarm didn’t shake me awake, leaving me to run around my house like a crazy woman at 7:35 a.m., because I had to meet my friends at 7:45 a.m., and I was so not only 10 minutes away. Then as I was speeding to our meeting point I remembered a little game my friends like to play. It’s called “Dawn’s Always Late, So Let’s Tell Her To Be There 15 Minutes Early.” I called the girl who told me to be there at 7:45. It was 7:50.

“Did you tell me to be there earlier than everyone else?”
“Uh, maybe.”
“Bitch.”
“Are you there?”
“That’s not the point.”
“HA! You’re not there! You’re late!”
“What time was everyone else supposed to be there?”
“8.”
“Well, then I’m right on time.”
“HA!”
“Bitch.”

Man I love the holidays.

A Turkey Day Conversation

D wrote:
Happy Thanksgiving everyone. This is hilarious...nothing says holidays like a turkey with an afro:
http://www.msn.americangreetings.com/view.pd?i=382219626&m=1652&rr=y&sou

C Wrote:
How do you find this sh**?

D wrote:
C, this is a touching song of hope and pain from the point of view of a turkey with an afro. This is NOT sh**. It's ART. Thank you.

People send me this sh** cause they know that I'm easily entertained. And I pass it on, because how do I not share such art with others?

C Wrote:
D, you are truly one of a kind...not many people would see a cartoon turkey with and afro, and bling, singing a Gloria Gaynor song as art. Where I come from (granted that's the hill country where you can marry your cousin as long as you have different daddys) turkeys are for eating or using as a soccer ball. Turkeys have been known to partake in some gambling activities - you know when you get the turkeys drunk and bet on which one will run into a tree. But their NOT for singing, and most definitely NOT considered art. That is of course not counting their feathers which make the best head dresses, just ask my mom.

God love my people – they’re creative with their food, sports, and alcohol.

Happy Turkey Day
C

Honduras Time

I didn’t post an entry today. I’m ever so sorry. I do hope that you all survived without a daily filling of my ramblings. It seems as though my blog is one of the many things I’m having trouble readjusting to back here in the States. The first couple of days back I figured I was just experiencing the normal post-vacation lack of motivation. And that was the reason I was moving so slow. Now it appears as though I’m actually just quite lazy. I was hoping to find myself on my trip. Turns out I found her, and she doesn’t really want to work. At all.

You see, before I left I was a little stressed out. I had approximately 735 jobs and sat in front of my computer anywhere from 12 to 15 hours a day, making all sorts of things pretty. And making myself slightly insane. People who thought they were in charge were calling me at 10 o’clock at night to discuss an inch of green space and what we should do about it, then another person, who really was in charge would call and say that the space should actually be red, and then a third person would e-mail and tell me to send both of the colors to the printer, and then another person would send a courier pigeon to say they fired all the other people and they hope the project hasn’t gone to the printer, because there needed to be “significant changes”.

And so I went to Honduras.

For the first two days I searched everywhere for an internet café, I was bouncing off the walls, not quite knowing what to do with myself. And then it all just melted away, the inch of green or red, the annoying “changes” people, the worrying that my Tivo might not be working (I have an instinct for these things, it turns out). And for the rest of the time I just breathed and laughed and avoided the questionable looking pork. (Because being relaxed and free have their limits. And those limits begin right around pork that kinda looks like styrofoam.)

So now I’m back. In the land of green inches and “significant changes”. And I’m not exactly working at pre-relaxation capacity. To be honest, I’m still on Honduras time. And you know what Honduras time is? Neither do I. That’s the point. I never knew what time it was there. I just kinda ate when people ate, got on the bus when other people seemed to be leaving. It worked. In Honduras. Here, however, it seems as though I should probably be moving a little faster than my newfound slow motion speed.

But then again, I doubt the world will end if I only have 642 jobs instead of 735, right? There are other people who can make things pretty, right? Right. Which is why today I said no to a job for the first time in over a year. It was awesome. Who has time for silly things like work and fast thoughts when there are naps to take and calls to ignore? Plus, I can’t be bothered with work, I have to devote all my time to recreating that tasty pork dish…

Pictures!!

Yes, I know. You are SO excited to see pictures from my trip. Other people’s pics are always so entertaining. Really.

I have over 1200 pictures. I could feasibly animate the entire trip for you, if I wanted to. Look for it in theaters sometime next year. It will be a hit.

Here are a few select pics:

This is what it looked like the first day. Dirt. Just dirt. And shovels.


This was after the shovels removed the dirt. In select areas.


Then rocks and cement were added to our perfectly good holes.


This is how far we got it before we left. The family and the mason will finish the rest by December. I was a bit bummed that we didn't finish. But we ain't exactly Extreme Makeover here people. 12 people with shovels can only do so much.



This is a friend, Elisa, on the first day. She is posing for this picture, so that she looks like she did some work. Please note that she is nowhere near where we actually dug any holes.


This is an adorable baby who lived in the house where we learned how to make tortillas. And by “make” I really mean “watch someone else make them, then eat them all”.


This is our fireman putting a band aide on the knee of one of the kids who hung out with us all week.


Me and my boyfriend Wilson. He will live in the house we helped build. He told the girl who speaks Spanish that I was bonita. He’s 17. I told him to call me in 10 years.


Fireman. Who can dig a hell of a ditch, in addition to putting out fires.


My friend who asked my name in Spanish and then every time he saw me he said, “Hello Dawn.” I love that he tried out his English on me. That was the extent of our verbal communication. But we still hung out the entire week, bonding over wire and dirt.


Me and Mark. The youngest and oldest people on the trip. Mark knows everything about everything. His nickname was Jeeves. Cause if you had a question, you’d just ask him and he’d have an encyclopedia caliber answer in 2.5 seconds.


Our fireman and the fireman who will live in the house we helped build. They bonded. The buckle in Rick’s hand is a gift from Henry, a token of his appreciation and brotherhood. It was also a token of all of us instantly bursting into tears.


Getting ready to put out some fires.


First someone cuts a huge-ass piece of rebar into little pieces (about 800 pieces). Then someone else bends all 800 pieces into squares, rectangles and triangles (above).


Then they line them up.


Then we cut four pieces of wire for every piece of bent rebar.


Then we employ child labor to help us tie each of the pieces to other long pieces.


Then we go a little cooky.


Here's my boyfriend and I on the last day. He asked if we could trade hats. I said okay. Highly sanitary. But how do you say no to that smile?


The Leap.


The second cutest group.


The first cutest group.

Tragedy

A tragedy has occurred. My Tivo didn’t work while I was gone. Or, more accurately, I did not set my Tivo up correctly, so it didn’t work while I was gone. I set all my programs to save in the highest quality and it turns out the highest quality only allows for about 5 hours of programming to be saved. Or something. So I came back to like 4 shows. A week of television lost forever. Tragedy.

Can I just tell you that I have had quite a string of bad luck since returning from saving the world? As if the god’s did not get the memo that I’m supposed to have great karma now?

First, when I landed in Miami I tried to get on an earlier flight so that I didn’t have to wait in the airport for 5 hours. But they said that they couldn’t let any of the standby people on.

Then, during my 5 hour wait, I called my bank to see why it was that I had a negative $1000 balance. Turns out some people in Poland were busy emptying it out while I was in Honduras.

Then I had to call another number to discuss the Polish thiefs. I was on hold with this number three separate times for a total of 40 minutes. I got disconnected twice, connected once. And then told that I had to call back later.

Then, I had no one sitting next to me on my 4 hour flight. This meant that I would be able to sleep across three seats. A slumber that would be nice, considering my 20 hour travel day. But then, right as I was reaching for my pillow a random Asian man sat down in the aisle seat and promptly fell asleep with his chin to his chest. Who knows where the man came from, as we were already 30 minutes into the flight. But there he sat for the rest of the flight, robbing me of my chance to sleep in an even remotely comfortable fashion.

Last night I tried to go see a sneak preview of RENT, a movie I have been waiting for since the first time I listened to the Broadway CD 8 years ago. Somehow I thought it was starting a half hour later than it actually was, so by the time I got to the theater there was no room, (not even one seat) for me in the theater.

Then I went home, hoping to seek solace in Gilmore Girls and Prison Break, only to find that they had been erased, sent to Tivo heaven – where TV shows go when they die. It was all quite tragic. Thank god I have my internet downloading thingy that lets me download episodes of any show I want. According to my computer my shows will be done downloading in approximately 5 days. I suppose I can wait. My malaria will probably kick in by then and I’ll need to have some TV to watch to pass the time.


Oh, and by the way, that picture I posted the other day is actually me jumping of the cliff into questionable waters. Notice that I bent my legs, to avoid paralysis, should the water not be as deep as my Crazy Honduran Waterfall Guide promised me it was. I don’t really know why I jumped, all I know is that I was scared out of my head and I figured that’s as good a reason as any to do something. Also, why try to avoid malaria when you can just jump into a huge pool of it, really?

I’m in the US. My money, however, is not.

I am back in the United States. Not in America, because as it turns out there are quite a few places that are considered America. I went to make a call and I said, “I need to call America.” And the lady said, “You mean the United States?” And I was like, duh, yes, “I need to call the America that thinks they are the only America. Thank you.”

I can’t tell you how much I love airports. I really can’t. I also can’t tell you how long I spent traveling today. I got up at 5 a.m. Central Time, rode in a shuttle for an hour and a half and then got on a series of several flights taking me to a series of several cities, the last of which was my home, at about 11, 1 a.m. Central Time. I heart traveling. One question I have about traveling – Who the hell is buying perfume in the airport? I mean really people. Come on. You can’t be so busy that you are actually purchasing perfume with your US Weekly and crossword puzzles.

Another fun thing that I found out while I was in the airport, once I was again able to check my phone messages…turns out someone in Suur Sojamae (yeah, I don’t know where that is either) has been stealing my money with a counterfeit credit card. Right out of my ATM. 300 bucks at a time. 5 times. Lovely. I didn’t leave much money in my bank account before I left, just in case I lost my ATM card while in Honduras (which I did, cause I’m a mature adult who can be trusted with the responsibility of her own possessions) so with Suur Sojamae withdrawals as well as several checks I sent before I left my bank balance is now negative $1000. Isn’t that awesome? I didn’t even know it could go that far into the negatives. Which is good to know, should I need an extra grand sometime in the future. I can just start writing checks like crazy. I did get a hefty “Continuous Overdraft Level 2 Charge” of $5, which should teach me my lesson.

It’s all quite weird, that I just happened to lose my card just days after the people in BFE started stealing my money. I told the lady on the phone that it must have been the people who found my card in Honduras, and she said, “Uh, no, this has been happening for awhile, long before you left.” Keeping track of your bank balance is overrated, is what I say. But it actually worked out quite well that I lost my card, cause it was useless by that point anyways. Unless I am able to go even farther into the negative balance. I almost want to see how far they’d let me go.

I spent about 40 minutes on hold trying to figure out the whole thing, only to be told I have to call tomorrow instead. Normally this would result in me needing to kill someone, anyone, to relieve my frustration. Today I just shrugged. I think I’m a little relaxed. I wonder how long that will last. We'll see. I do hope that the people in Suur Sojamae are enjoying my money. Perhaps they can send me a magnet or some souvenir of the time my money spent there.

Here is my favorite picture of the trip:


Metaphors abound. But I have gotten up before 7 a.m. every one of the last 10 days, so my brain isn’t exactly functioning on a poetic level right now.

I’ll post more pics later. Cause nothing is better than other people’s travel photos. If my money sends any pics from Suur Sojamae I’ll post those too.

Una Dia Mas

We are officially done saving the world and have now transitioned nicely into being tourists. We finished our work on the houses and are now in a tourist-y town called Copan. Our hotel is awesome. But then again, we are very easily impressed now.

Our showers at the last place were actually plugged into the wall, which seemed highly safe, seeing as though electricity and water have been known to be a great combo. The showers were also quite small and the hot water was quite moody, so once we got the hot water going we didn´t want to turn it off. This resulted in grabbing a towel, wrapping it around my body and jumping out before the towel was just as drenched as I was. And trying to avoid the before mentioned electrocution. It was all quite an adventure.

The showers at our fancy hotel now are HUGE, so huge. And they have hot water ALL THE TIME. And no exposed wiring. Awesome. AND they are big enough to have a party in. Without risking the whole party getting electrocuted. Ahhh, the good life.

They have many a tourist-y thing to do here and I have been participating in them all, cause heaven forbid I have a free minute and a half on my ¨vacation¨. Yesterday we went horseback riding. Oy. I think I can now safely mark both housebuilder and cowgirl off my list of possible careers. My horse did not enjoy being anything but first and anytime any other horses came near it would start running away. And I would start bouncing. A lot. Which dislocated only about three of my virtabre. Nice.

So anyways, I´m coming home in a couple of days, ready to once again embrace technology and non-fatal showers. It´s been a great trip and I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a unique and gratifying travel experience. Although you will quickly find that it has very little to do with saving the world and a lot more to do with the world saving you. We´ve all received a lot more than we´ve given this week. And that´s not even counting the stomach viruses and the pulled muscles.

Will write again once I´ve made it onto US soil...

Heaven-Sent Mall

We found another internet cafe. It is like ten feet from where we are staying. It is in this random ass mall in the middle of shacks. I have no idea where it came from but I'm pretty sure God was involved somehow. There are even giggly, annoying teenagers here. So some things are universal. Malls being one of them.

Another universal thing: Firemen are hot everywhere. We are building a house for a fireman and his wife and the past couple of days all of his fireman buddies came out and helped us build. And by "help" I mean "actually took over doing all the more difficult work". We heart firefighters. The first day we had to dig many a ditch all by our poor, out of shape, used to sitting in front of a computer all day selves. Those very bodies were nonhappy about all of the newfound need to participate in manual labor. When I woke up the second day I wanted to cry. Not because I was so moved by the humanity I'm seeing, but because I knew that we still had many more ditches to dig.

Then, as if sent from heaven (the same sender of the mall) we arrived at our work site to find 6 fireman digging said ditches. Did I mention we heart fireman? They were awesome. And today they took us to their firehouse, which was very nice. And then they did some drills to show us how good they are at being firemen, as if we needed more reason to adore them. One of the guys in our group is a fireman in Canada so the man whose house we are building presented him with a fireman belt buckle and told him he was giving it to him in the spirit of love and brotherhood. Then they hugged. Then we all cried. And that time didn't have anything to do with sore muscles.

There are 17 people on the trip, ranging from 27 to 7-friggin'-five years old. Yeah. The 75 year olds are totally kicking the younger people's butts. I think it has something to do with the fact that perhaps the older people might have actually worked a day in their lives, unlike my generation, who have done nothing beyond sit in front of a computer for hours at a time. We don't really know what work is all about. And now that I know what it is all about I'm quite glad that I've been in the dark for so long. The dark is fun. And it's not sore.

We are seeing great things, working with great people and doing great things.

And we're only halfway through.

More to come...

¿Donde esta?

So I´m in Honduras. And thank the lord I finally found an internet cafe. I hugged the computer when I saw it. I love computers. I did not know that Ioved them, but I do. We´ve been here a couple of days and today was our first day of actual building. it was much more fun when we weren´t doing the actual building. The whole manual labor thing definitely put a damper on things. Yesterday we went to some waterfall and we went UNDER the waterfall and were beaten by the waterfall and we jumped off very high rocks into very not clear water. It was all highly recommended by many health professionals, I can promise you that. But it was fun. Today, not so fun. Today we started building. And by building I mean digging. And by digging I mean ditches. Lots of them. Lord. I am sore all over. Everywhere. All the places that were once calm and not sore, very sore. The group I am with is great, all age ranges and the old people are kicking my ass in the way of productivity. I´m thinking that maybe they have actually worked a day in their lives, whereas I have merely sat behind a computer for years at a time. How I miss my computer. And the use of all my muscles. And sleeping until after 7 a.m. I do so hope the world appreciates all we are doing to save it. I´m off to eat food, but not too much food, and I will be very selective about the food I eat, cause things have been touch and go in the whole food area. But don´t trip, there are Wendy´s everywhere. Everyone loves a frosty dairy dessert, I guess. Hug your TV´s for me... More later if we find the Promise Land, aka Internet Cafe again. Hasta...

Not Quite Honduras

I have been traveling for quite some time now and I'm still not even all the way across the damn country. I'm waiting in the Dallas airport so that I can catch a flight and wait in the Miami airport. It's all quite exciting. What I'm really wondering is, how high was I exactly when I decided to book at 6 a.m. flight? So high. I had to get up at 3:15 this morning. Which is about the time I usually go to bed. Which translated to a very restful night's sleep, as my body constantly pointed out that it wasn't tired even a little bit and didn't quite understand this insistence on laying horizontal with it's eyes closed.

Last night I had a lay over in Dallas and stayed at a local hotel. It probably wasn't the best idea to start out my third world trip in a four star hotel. I imagine my Honduran accommodations will look even more third world-y in comparison to the Hyatt. Do you think Honduras will have room service with cute little salt and pepper shakers on the tray? I highly doubt it.

So then, there is nothing much to report in the way of saving the world and what not. I will report that it is frowned upon to have a suitcase weighing over 50 pounds, just so you know. It seems I over packed for my world-saving adventures and I have been reprimanded several times for the weight of my suitcase. My parents warned me several times that if I get put in a Honduras jail I’m never getting out. So apparently I packed accordingly. The drug dealers are more than welcome to incriminate me in their drug smuggling attempts. I have enough clothes packed to last an entire jail sentence. And I’m sure the mosquito face net will come in handy in jail as well.

Rendezvous

I’m leaving today. Off to save the world. Or at least save Honduras. I’m going to build homes and bring hope to an impoverished region. And all that. When I get there I’m supposed to “rendezvous” with my fellow teammates. Our leader sent us an e-mail letting us know where we would be meeting. Next to a hut? No. Next to a line of starving children? No. Next to a Wendy’s in a food court? Uh, yes.

Huh?

Somehow Honduras is suddenly not looking quite so hard up for all things un-third world-y. How on earth is there a Wendy’s in Honduras? I mean really. If a country has french fries I consider it well on it’s way to being a prosperous society. And that’s not even taking into account the Frosty Dairy Desserts. Those might push them right over the edge into wealth.

As I finish packing my mosquito net and work gloves I am calmed by the knowledge that I am traveling somewhere with deep fried food. I was worried that they wouldn’t be able to accommodate my special dietary needs. Just to play it safe I’ll still bring along my leftover Halloween candy, in case my body goes into a lack of sugar coma.

So I’m all set and ready to go. Very soon I will have to turn off the computer and slowly step away. For I am going to travel the world, experience new cultures and find my spirit. But don’t worry, I’ll be bringing my laptop (you didn’t think I could go 10 whole days without a computer, didja? ) and hopefully I’ll be able to connect to the internet via a donkey or perhaps one of the super-sized mosquitoes. Until then this blog will be quiet. I know, try to be strong, remember it’s for the greater good. And before you know it I’ll be back with tales of french fries and internet cafes. And maybe some third world-y stuff too.

Peace out.

Packing

Since I got the Tivo under control I decided it was time to think about actually shopping for my trip. It’s a weird thing, shopping for clothes that you are going to trash and throw away almost immediately. So where did I go for this shopping? Wal-Mart of course. Seems like a pretty good place to find disposable stuff. (The word “Wal-Mart” is in my spell checker, by the way, which seems wrong and a bit disheartening. As much as I search I cannot find “Cute Little Store Down On The Corner That Is Owned By An Even Cuter Old Lady” in my spell check. You know why? Cause Wal-Mart put that store out of business. Jerks.)

Anyways, holy crap was there a lot of stuff to find at Wal-Mart. Somehow I wandered into a two story Wal-Mart, for the love of God. It was quite overwhelming. And pretty cool. Look at the ride my shopping cart got to go on:



Weeee! Now I know this is probably not anything special to a lot of you, but damn if I wasn’t excited by the little motorized thing that took my cart up and down for me. And didn’t even tip it over! Ah technology.

So after many hours (and several rides on the escalator) this is what I came home with:


1. This is a Family Size bottle of bug lotion. I plan to bathe in it. Somewhere in that pile there is also an extra-industrial strength can of bug spray. Can you tell I’m a little worried about the mosquitoes?

2. Gloves. Two pair. Neither of which actually fit me. But I think they will prove to be nice mosquito swatters.

3. T-Shirts. Lot’s of them. They are adorable. They have Mickey on them, and the 7-up logo and the Crush logo and some other crap. I know I’m going to confuse the third worldians, but the shirts were only like 5 bucks each. The lime green ones were only 2 bucks each. So I bought quite a few of them. They should match the color of my skin nicely after I accidently drink the water.

4. Protective Glasses. I don’t know. They were like a buck. At least my eyes won’t catch malaria.

5. Cotton Candy. To show the Hondruians what real food tastes like.

6. A face net and a poncho. These will come in handy during the insect attacks and hurricanes. On my vacation.

7. Lots of reading materials. Because I don’t know why, but it takes over 24 hours for me to get across this friggin country via plane. You know, those big things that fly in the air. Really fast? Yeah. Turns out they lay over quite a bit too. So I’m bringing novels to enrich my mind while in the airport. And crappy magazines, to occupy my mind while I eat my tenth Cinnabon.

8. Video tape and cameras. To capture all that happens. Ya’ll are gonna wanna see this. I haven’t been away from this computer for more than 48 hours in, hmmm, I have no idea how long. It could get real ugly real quick. And that’s not even counting the face net.

9. And the all-important Tivo. She’s all set and ready to go. I got her all hooked up and registered. When I registered I got to name her. I named her Miracle. Cause somehow she just sits there and knows what I want to watch and she tapes it for me. And then, and then! She can burn me DVD’s of all my favorite shows! God bless us everyone.

Tivo Before I Go

Um, I’m leaving for a foreign country in like three days. So I thought maybe I should go shopping. You know, for a Tivo. Because for some reason unclear to me I decided to leave the country during a sweeps month. Do you know what a sweeps month is? If you don’t then that probably means that you are a functioning member of society. Unlike myself. Myself looks forward to the months of November, February and May because I know that those are the three months out of the year that the TV networks are trying to buy my viewership, so that they can in turn sell it to advertisers for lots of money. It’s the circle of life really. For those who don’t actually have a life.

So anyways, I am leaving just as all my favorite shows are pulling out all the stops (and celebrity guest stars, and live episodes, and reunion shows and occasionally a death or wedding or birth or all three). What the hell was I thinking? A true TV lover does not leave the country during sweeps. A true TV lover would never let silly things like the world needing to be saved get in the way of all new episodes of their favorite shows. I have obviously failed as a TV lover and wonder now what else is left in this world for me to excel at. Perhaps I’ll find my true calling while in Honduras? Is avoiding malaria considered a skill? Maybe. We’ll see how I do at that.

Halloween Holes

So Halloween has passed by once again. Are you all as sick as I am? Seriously, it can’t be healthy to eat that much chocolate in the course of 48 hours. (I did a little partaking in Halloween-eve eating)

While I was out trick o’ treating tonight I looked at all the kids’ costumes and I thought, “These kids have no imagination.” You see, when I was a kid I liked to come up with creative costumes, because why be something normal when you can instead be some sort of inanimate object? I really enjoyed being inanimate objects. I think it started when my mom dressed me up like a crayon when I was younger. Man was I adorable. Covered in felt from head to toe.

Then as I reached my teenage years I started to come up with my own inanimate object costumes. One year I was a laundry basket. I know, I know you wonder why you never came up with that, right? I took one of my mom’s laundry baskets, cut a hole in it and wore it around my waist. We stuffed it with dirty clothes and laundry detergent. I had fabric softeners clinging throughout my body. It was great fun. Not so great for my mom, who wondered why the hell I was cutting holes in her laundry basket. Ah, creative children.

Then the next year I was a table. This one didn’t involve destroying any of my mom’s household items, which was a step in the right direction. To be a table I cut a hole (holes seem to be a theme) in a big piece of cardboard and then put it over my head. The cardboard rested on my shoulders and was covered in a tablecloth as well as plates, cups and silverware. I painted my face like a fruit bowl and I was good to go. It was an awesome costume. The frustrating part was that people kept putting my candy in the cups that were on top of the table. If it was something I wanted to eat right away I nearly had to stand on my head to get the candy out of the cup and into my hand.

The last time I was an inanimate object was actually just a few years ago. We had a theme at work where we all dressed like a character from The Wizard of Oz. One lady was Dorothy, one was the Tin Man, one was Glenda, and so on and so forth. I was the House That Landed on the Bad Witch. I cut a hole (I can cut the hell out of a hole by now) in a cardboard box, painted it like a house and put it over my head. I also wore striped stockings and would sit down on the floor for the full effect of the costume, you know, the whole feet sticking out from under the house thing. Look, I worked in an accounting department, I had to find some way to amuse myself.

This year unfortunately I did not get to cut a hole in anything for my costume. However, being as though it was sewn together with the thinnest thread on the planet the holes actually still made their way into my outfit. Which was nice, for tradition’s sake.