Almonds and Raisins for Rudolph

Today I helped my mom sift through old photos, scan them, and then put them on a digital picture frame. I did about 25 pictures to get her started and then step-by-step led her through the process. (I resolve to NEVER teach computer science in any capacity! Especially to a 50+ class, haha). She was a great sport and in the process we found this napkin that I left next to a healthy Christmas snack for Rudolph.

Transcribed for your enjoyment...apparently I knew the power of persuasion early.. using his (Santa's) name repeatedly. I dictated the words to my mom and then signed the bottom. I'm guessing I was around 4 years old.

"Santa-
First put out the toys. Santa when you're done with the toys, Santa you better bring Rudolph down if you have him. Santa, I've been good, real good. Wake me up I'll come out and I'll see Rudolph out there. (Previous sentence is crossed out.) Here's some milk and cookies for you. Sit in this chair and some almonds and raisins for Rudolph.
xoxo Allie"

Some observations: I had no problem bossing Santa around! I like that I decided against being woken up to see Rudolph...missing snacks was enough evidence for me. And despite correcting people for years that I had no "e" on Alli... I guess at one time I did.

I'm a little hard of hearing...

A cute dark haired guy kept passing the booth I sit at 8 hours every day. He'd wave or nod or smile.. or a combination of the three, but no spoken interaction for 5 solid days.

Then yesterday, he walked right up to me and said in a THICK Irish accent "What's the tame?" I smiled, "I don't know the tame, sorry. " He shook his head, "Do you have the tame?" If I don't what the tame is, how can I have it? I said "The tame...uhhh....?" He looked puzzled and said "Do you have the team?" Relieved I said, "Oh no! The team is in Centre Stage. (The band was leading worship in a building name Centre Stage). I was so happy to have figured it out. But I hadn't. He said "No, no, the taaame...." and pointed in the direction of the box under his arm. On the cardboard was written Christianity Magazine. The magazine team/tame?

Finally I said, "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about..." I spoke slowly and annunciated each and every word. In return he said "What... tame... is... it? T....I....M....E....tame"

That's right, he had to spell it. He wasn't pointing to the cardboard box, he was pointing to his wrist, the universal motion for the time.

I quickly turned around, grabbed my purse and cast my embarrassed face down to find my phone. "It's uhh, 4:11" I turned it around for him to see in case there has been any miscommunications. I think I said something lame like "Sorry, I'm a little hard of hearing..."

Love Actually...

As I stepped out of the International Arrivals of Heathrow Airport last week, I imagined I heard Hugh Grant's voice in Love Actually smoothly saying, "Love actually is....all around". The reality is: I didn't have anyone waiting for me, arms open wide, flowers in hand. Instead, a Costa Coffee held her arms wide open offering some caffeinated alertness despite the two Dramamine that ran through my system and allowed for solid sleep throughout the entire flight.
Speaking of which, I'm convinced that I should be hired for Dramamine's marketing team. Forget motion sickness! This product insures that I sleep through the night when I'm camping in the middle of the desert. This product allows me to board an international flight, eat dinner, and wake up as the Customs Arrival cards are being passed out. A wonder drug! The only side-effects are grumpy (and jealous) co-travelers that watched as you slept through turbulence/crying babies/boring movies.
While we waiting for a van to carry all of our luggage and instruments to Penge, London we were approached by a nice Jewish man with a kind "Shalom". We responded with "Shalom" and he gave us a glossy card with the 'messiah' on the front. He looked to be about 65, with salt and pepper hair. Unfortunately, I left the card on the table.
After a day of rehearsal, we took the tube (subway) into Central London for a whirlwind walking tour. We started at Westminster Abbey, walked to Big Ben, shoved 8 people into a red telephone booth, watched street performers by the National Museum and drank coffee in Piccadilly Square. We've eaten fish and chips, I've tried a Turkish Delight, and consumed more tea and salt &vinegar crisps than I thought possible.
At dinner one night, my new friends, Sam and Rich gave me a tutorial in British slang. When it was my turn to share California slang, I defaulted to Sean's lingo with words like gnar, shred, and steezy. The other day I heard Rich say "buckets of steez!" As a team, we've even made up our own slang and have fun defining situations of use and its figures of speech. The bass guitarist, Manu, is from Germany so we've been learning random German words. I now know the German for words like plumber's crack, swallow, and sweat. Instead of saying we're hungry we'll say something like "I'm ready to schlook (swallow) some breakfast."
With fake rats in backpacks, exploding Pringles cans, and salty coffee I find that I'm on the defensive with this group of pranksters. The other day a woman approached the CD stand. She was dressed perfectly normal, but when she opened her mouth she was (as the British would put it), "absolutely mad!" She started exclaiming, "Where's the celebration?!" in a thick Irish accent that was almost unintelligible. I started laughing and looking beyond her for our electric player Joe from South Africa or Manu who have become a tag-team. I was sure she had been sent by them. Turns out this woman was indeed insane and my laughing just made her more crazed. I don't know if it was even possible for me to help her find the celebration she was looking for.

Accidental Photography

Real photographers scoff when I mention that I use iPhoto. They're appalled that I've never used PhotoShop or Aperture. They roll their eyes when I ask about exposure, lenses, and shutter speed.
I used to take compliments about my pictures in stride and say "Oh, thank you." But I have this fear of being found out. I picture the complimenter and I in South America when I pull out my little 'common' camera. They would turn to me, jaw drops and they'd say "You're not a photographer!"
The truth is, I've had the opportunity to be in situations that would be a photographer's dream and I take my little Canon Elph, point it in the direction of something interesting and push down the button.
So, I appreciate your compliments lately, but I really am below amateur status. Someday, I'd love to take a course and find out what all your terms mean and how to take a picture that was more than an accident. Here are some that I have up in my house and a bit of history behind them.


I was riding on a the back of a motorcycle in Cambodia, heading to Angkor Wat. My motorcycle driver was behind this guy in traffic, we sped up and passed him. I held on with one arm and raised the other one to take a picture. I love that the speed is captured...but not on purpose.

This is what Thailand looks like. There's no enhancement needed when it's paradise. In the distance you can see Burma.

After some pad thai on a small island named Koh Phayam, my friends and I walked to the pier to see all these fisherman mending their nets. I love that the lights from their boats casts such dramatic shadows. It's rare to get a picture in Asia without someone looking at the camera. I took this before they realized 4 American girls were standing next to them on the pier.

This picture comes from a day with the Panga tribe in the mountains of Orissa, India. The Panga women tatooed their faces and wore dozens of earrings for decades. It dates back to when India was British India, and British men would come take tribal women from their families. Panga women in an effort to be less desirable to the British men tatooed their faces. It worked and they were able to stay with their families. The tradition has continued. This is the tribe leader's wife and son.

I took this picture in Xi'an, China (the home of the TerraCotta warriors). We were walking down a back alley looking for a cheap restaurant for dinner. I saw a woman reaching into a giant burlap bag and grinding peppers. When she bent down to pick something up, I reached over and snapped this. I expected it to be blurry, but my trusty Canon pulled through again.

Aliens and Santa

On Sunday afternoon, I found myself in Orange County, book in hand, laying on a blanket, watching a church soccer game. Nearby a 5 year old and 8 year old were impatiently waiting for their parent's game to end so they could go home and get warm. It was overcast and I was cold as well.
After a couple minutes of attempting to read 'The Weight of Glory', I invited them over to the blanket to hang out. We played paper, rock, scissors and the hand slap game. Then we played duck, duck, goose... the game just isn't fun with 3 people. After about 10 minutes of being the goose, little Eden (the 5 year old girl) suggested that we switch games and play 100 Questions. JT (the 8 year old boy) joyfully agreed. It seems that this is an expanded form of 20 questions, minus the pressure.
Eden started the game. A person... kind of, dead... no alive, poor... no rich. I thought, "This is going to be such a long soccer game." Finally JT asked, "Is he brown?" A nod from Eden. "Jesus!". Wow, I should have known...
JT was next. About 15 questions into the game, he could see the frustration from Eden and I, so he offered, "He's imaginary.. he's not real." Without thinking I blurted out "SANTA!" I was so proud of myself, I got it! Their reactions were raised eyebrows, with their big brown eyes staring back at me. Confusion, utter confusion.
I backpedaled, I said "Just kidding", I laughed, and then said "Leprechauns?" They had never heard of them before. I filtered out the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny to avoid any further damage.
Finally, JT just shrugged his shoulders and said, "It was an alien".
As a peace offering and to get their minds off of Santa, I offered them each a piece of sugarless gum. As we chomped away at our minty gum, Eden gave me princess stickers and JT showed me his slinky crazy eyes glasses. I wonder what the conversation that night at dinner looked like?

Here's my card, call me.

On a crisp Monday morning at 7am, I rode my bike to the Washington Street bus stop. I put my bike on the rack, and stepped onto a fairly empty bus. The bus driver greeted me with a "Good mornin' dah-lin!" Great first words of the day, right?

A couple minutes later, iPod in ears, a guy sat next to me. He said something but I couldn't hear him through my morning dose of Phil Wickham. I removed one small white earphone. "What's that?"

He said "Would I offend anyone if I sat here?" "Um, no." Slight smile.

"Do you mind if I talk to you?" "Uh, no." Bringing purse closer to my body.

"It's just that you're really beautiful." Oh stop. Really, stop.

"I'm a musician, I pay all kinds of music all around San Diego." Pulls out business card. It has his name, the word "Musician" and his phone and email. He tells me that the best way to get a hold of him is "just to call".

"Can I take you out for a cup of coffee?" I say, "I'm headed to work." He chuckles and says, "Well not right now..."

There's no kind way to put it. "No, thanks." He says, "It's been a pleasure, keep the card."

This is the 2nd time this has happened. The random business card pick-up... only the first time it was name, "Mattress King", phone and email. I wish I were kidding.

When will things move beyond Mattress Kings and Musicians?

Just moments after the musician moved back to his seat, an old Chinese couple boarded the bus. I offered them my seat in the front. The old woman responded with a confused face and "Wo ting bu dong." (basically "I don't understand"). I responded in Mandarin, which resulted in 5-7 minutes of excited conversation between us. I looked back at the Musician mid-way through the convo and he was wide-eyed and staring. The old Chinese man ended our conversation with "I like the look of your teeth".

All of this happened before 8am on a bus in San Diego. I'm convinced that if you want a foreign country experience, get out of your personal car and take the bus. You, too, can get great morning greetings, coffee offers and practice your Mandarin.

We've Met Before...

Last night I went to a Christmas party with my roommate. It was hosted at a beautiful home, finger foods were abundant and eggnog was readily available. About an hour into the party, I realized that I was one or two age brackets too young for the gathering. I'm confident I was the youngest person there. Here are some pointers that lead me to that conclusion. First, my SDSU media management professor was in attendance. And when I told him so, he responded with, "So, you're what... 21?" No! I'm 24, almost 25...thank you! Second, I was introduced to a woman who immediately said "We've met before, at another party...". Nope, I'm pretty sure we haven't.

This happens often. More often than you'd think.. and I'm starting to find the two most common sources of 'connection'.

1. I have been on your friend's fridge for two years. My face with Tracy (my Chinese student), and something to the affect of "Serving in China". Every time you went to the fridge at their house, and you swung the door open, our eyes probably met. You think you know me, but you don't, we've only just silently stared.

2. I told you which shampoo was best for your oily/dry/curly/straight/uncontrollable hair. I recommended a bottle of $62 shampoo and $54 conditioner of Aveda goodness. You also got a body scrub, hand lotion and an eyeliner. I gave you a hand massage, showed you some blush and we chatted a bit. We felt like friends because I wasn't pushy...there was no commission on the line... just genuine concern for your dry hair and skin. You think you know me, and you do... but not from a party. I know you're not a natural blonde, and that's more information than you'd relinquish in small talk at any party.

Last night, it was the latter. I knew the crowd and it was full of Aveda junkies. Their radiant skin and silky hair told me so. When I said, "I worked at Aveda in college, maybe I helped you there?" She exclaimed, "YES! I love Aveda! But, I'm still mad that you discontinued Curessence!"

That was my cue, I silently slipped out and went to Cori's house down the street.

Tour de la Tundra

I'm sitting in a winter wonderland. Eight inches of snow have fallen today and more is expected overnight. Tomorrow I'm supposed to fly out of O'Hare at noon and had grand ambitions to take the El train the whole way, but those have been changed, instead Rachel will give me a ride to the airport in the morning. Apparently, it wouldn't be easy to roll my 50 lb. suitcase through a foot of snow. I recently learned that El is short for Elevated...I think someone misguided me in saying that the route was shaped like an L.

While sitting comfortably in warm California, I've heard of long delays at O'Hare, and from what my friends here tell me, tomorrow I'll become one of thousands looking at the flashing 'Delayed' and 'Cancelled' next to my United flight number. We shall see...

This trip to the MidWest has been much needed. I started in Colorado (is that technically the MidWest?) and worked for 3 days at the Tedder's dining room table. We worked, took a walk, worked, drank a latte and played ping pong, worked, ate Mexican, worked, then watched America's Funniest Home Videos. I can't help it, I love that show. Call it slap-stick, but I just can't get enough of the montages of falling people. The Tedder's view of the Rockies, their hot tub in the snow, and Mark's barista skills always make for an enjoyable time. It's honestly a pleasure to work for them and I'm excited to be a part of The Door project. http://www.marktedder.com I can't help it, I had to post the website...it's my job.

From Colorado Springs, I went to Denver and was able to spend some time with Ryan and Amanda. They're newlyweds and a great compliment to each other. To know them is to love them. Amanda took me to the airport in the morning, and from there I flew to...

Chicago! What a city. Rachel, my China roommate for a year and an aspiring writer, picked me up from the airport. I secretly hope to be in one of her books someday. She assures me that traces of my personality will be found in a character, but I'm lobbying for more. In the morning we met a group of friends at Egglectic in downtown Wheaton. I mistakenly called it Eggcelent a couple of times, which made Rachel chuckle. And it was there that I was reunited with Mikayla. I had never used the cliche of "you're like a sister to me" until I met Mikayla. We somehow turn the most mundane activities (lesson planning, waiting, performances, bus rides) into laughter and pure joy. She shares my love for accents, for the world, and for odd topics. I spent every day for a year with her and hadn't seen her for a year and half! In that time she had gotten married, and I was able to meet her husband Erik. Also at breakfast were Kathy Kastner (music professor extraordinaire and culture junkie!) and Nita Martindale (the Beijing hostess with the most). We talked about Tibet, about Twitter and updated each other as we ate our scrambles and crepes. As I walked away, I wished that we could all meet at Egglectic weekly, I have so much to learn from everyone at the table.

Next, we headed into the city. Rachel, Mikayla and I took the El into the heart of Chicago. We took pictures at the Bean, watched people ice-skate, went shopping on State Street, and had a late lunch at The Walnut Room in Macy's. The day ended with The Blue Man Group. We ushered the show to get in free, which was a genius move on Rachel's part. Mikayla and I intended on speaking in British accents, but it seemed the tables were turned on me. An interesting BMG employee would come near me and politely ask, "How's it going?" and then in a raspy voice "Hellllo preeetttty". At first I thought I was hearing things. But just a couple minutes later he came to get a booster seat for a child. He said nicely, "I'm just going to grab this..." and then in a deep grunt "Hiiiii Dolly." I signaled to Mikayla across the room that he was talking strange and gave her an awkward face, but she just waved and danced to the music playing. After cleaning up all the paper towels used in the show, we went to Giordano's. We reminisced and laughed our way through a deep dish pizza.

The next day we drove to Mikayla's house in northern Wisconsin. It was at this point that I felt as though I entered another country. I wish I could pinpoint why Wisconsin felt so foreign. Perhaps it was the large metal cows? Or more cheese signs than gas station signs? Either way, I felt the need to take pictures and document the culture.

Mikayla and Erik were gracious hosts and we were even able to see them sing in the choir of Handel's Messiah. An interesting fact, the reason that everyone stands during "Hallelujah" is because in the first performance the King of England stood. Such an educational trip this has turned out to be. Katie Wilson drove all the way from Minneapolis and we were reunited. Ah, how I've missed Katie. She drove 5 hours to spend a day with us, and I felt so loved. We all played Balderdash late into the night.

I could keep listing the fun things we did together, but I think I'll end here. The point is, I needed the MidWest. I needed the microbrews, the long talks, the cheese curds, the cross-stitching of ornaments, and the late night Balderdash. In many ways, being here with these good friends in the middle of snowy prairie land has felt more like home than California. I had no idea that the MidWest could be so...so...great. And I feel like an ignorant fool for the way I've judged it in the past. Seriously though, Wisconsin feels like another country. Trust me.

Just some of my family...

When Grandma Jo turned 80, she took a picture with her grandchildren at the party. I'm related to all these kids. This isn't including aunts or uncles or those distant relatives that show up at Thanksgiving.
Please note that I'm one of two brunettes in the entire bunch. Dominant genes...

My Inbox

India, I want my $395 back.

Nation of India,

Last year I visited your vast land, and although I wouldn't call my time with you a 'vacation', it was most definitely an 'adventure'. I spent time with your tribes (I'm a huge fan of the Panga tribe), spent 3 weeks eating with my hands, and tipped everyone including the lady that pointed a finger to the paper towels in the bathroom. You took more of my money than I budgeted, and you made me cry in the face of complete poverty, but in the hills of Orissa you afforded me the clearest starry night I've ever seen. Thanks for that.

A rift has come between us, and we both know the root of it. I took something from you, however small, it was significant to you. Your nation's greatest treasure, had a very small portion 'under construction', and I took a tiny momento. In hindsight, it was a mistake.

That being said, I think you've overreacted. You made my co-conspirator Jev so ill that he had to spend a week in a Thai hospital and now a year later you've stolen my identity in credit fraud. That's right, I know all about it! One of your people opened a credit card in my name and spent $395.

I'm really sorry about all the things in our past, but this vengeful attitude has got to stop! I want this $395 resolved immediately and, in turn, I'll stop gossiping about you. If the opportunity arises, I'll even return your little gem to your soil.

Namaste,
Allison

Sunsets at the Embarcadero

While other cities give a cold shoulder to their residents, San Diego remains warm and inviting.

The Power of 1.

It might be November 11th and Veteran's Day here in the States, but today a billion people are celebrating the Chinese holiday of Single's Day.

11-11, four 1's in a row, for all the single people to have a day. Perhaps it's a Chinese protest to it's 3 month older cousin, Valentine's Day?

Today, if you're young and single (or old and single for that matter...sorry for the age discrimination)...it's your day, and you didn't even know it.

Pat yourself on the back, toast yourself for a great year, and then tuck yourself into bed tonight! It's your day!

Voting-O-Rama?

Last night, my friend Cori and I were having gelato in Little Italy next to some classic old Italian men. I'm talking gold chain, chest hair, Aqua-Net hair, and thick accents. With a week until election day, politics eventually came up in their conversation. The guy with the biggest gold chain said, "Yeah, well that Bak O-Rama is going to...."
Go ahead, say it out loud in your best Italian accent. CNN is a lot more entertaining when you mentally insert some O-Ramas.

Humanifesto

I want to be a grace guerilla
no longer a chameleon of karma
the time has come to stand out from the crowd.
I want to give forgiveness a fighting chance of freeing me
I want to live in love
and live it out loud.

I want to drink deep of the foolishness of wisdom
instead of swallowing the wisdom of fools
I want to find a source in the deeper mines of meaning
to search out the unsearchable
to invoke the invisible
to choose the truth the TV hypnotists aren't screening.

No camouflage
no entourage
no smoothly fitting-in
I want a faith that goes further than face value
and a beauty that goes deeper than my skin.

I want to be untouched by my possessions
instead of being possessed by what I touch
to test the taste of having nothing to call mine
to hold consumption's cravings back
to be content with luck or lack
to live on water as well as on wine.

I want to spend myself on those I think might need me
not spend all I think I need on myself
I want my heart to be willing to make house calls.
Let those whose rope is at an end find in me a faithful friend
Let me be known as one who rebuilds broken walls.

No camouflage
no entourage
no smoothly fitting-in
I want a faith that goes further than face value
and a beauty that goes deeper than my skin.

I want to be centered outside the circle
to be chiseled by a different seam
I want to be seduce by another story
and drawn into a deeper dream
I want to be anchored in an undiscovered ocean
to revolve around an unfamiliar sun
a boom box tuned to an alternate station
a bullet fired from a different gun.

No camouflage
no entourage
no smoothly fitting-in
I want a faith that goes further than face value
and a beauty that goes deeper than my skin.

-Gerard Kelly on The Door CD/DVD (released 12/1)

The Farmer's Walk

I can't count how many times I mumbled under my breath, "China, you win! You always do!" over the last couple years. Today was no different, and for an entirely different reason. I'm not talking about the nation that holds 1/4 of the world's population, the land of Mao, tai-chi, or incredible eggplant dishes. I'm talking about actual dishes...porcelain plates, bowls, and cups (also known as china).

The day started off wonderfully. I further explored San Diego's mass transportation and took the Coaster train from San Diego to Oceanside, then the Sprinter light rail from Oceanside to my friend's house in Vista (about 40 miles away). On the agenda today: 8 year old girl's birthday party. And it had all the essential ingredients: stickers, scavenger hunt, and sugar. We partied hard for 4 hours and just before I left my dear friend gave me a gift, two big 12 piece sets of dishes for my new house.

I was thrilled and thankful, and then I realized that I had many mass transportation adventures ahead of me and 24 new items for the ride. The Sprinter, the Coaster, the Trolley, and then the Walk. There's no 'the Walk' mass transit system, I'm capitalizing it because I'm feeling like it deserves it. In the same way that that we capitalize the Fall (of man), the One (we'll marry), the Boss (pictured above).

We double bagged the boxes with sturdy Trader Joe's bags, and it seemed like an easy plan. I hoped that a friend would be able to pick me up from the Old Town Station so my shoulders wouldn't disconnect from their sockets.

If you think I'm being dramatic, the next time you come over and enter the kitchen, I'm going to hand you our 8 plates, 8 large bowls, and 8 mugs and encourage you to take a 12 block walk including uphill portions and stairs!

I have great friends. But they're important, busy people. They're invited to parties, weddings, or BBQ's on Saturday afternoons. They don't have time to transport my new plates to their new home.

So I did the Walk...all .6 miles uphill, no joke. (GoogleMaps says .6, but it felt like at least 2 miles). Rainclouds loomed above and I threatened heaven with a "Don't you DARE!". Can you picture it? I'm walking home, it's pouring, the brown bags get soaked, the porcelain falls through, shatters, and I collapse on someone's yard to laugh/pout.

Instead I had a moment when I felt like the world (well maybe just the weather) revolved around my little life. As I put my key into the lock, exhausted and kind of shaky in the shoulders region, I felt a raindrop hit my forehead, and just as I had both of my feet on the hardwood floors of my house, the downpour began! How I wish someone was there to witness the poetry of the timing with me...I really LOL'd by myself in an empty house. If it has been just 5 minutes later, you'd have found a mysterious and troubling scene involving a 24 year old standing in an intersection- breaking, throwing, and juggling 24 pieces of dishware on the evening news. Caption at the bottom of the screen: SoCal Residents React to Rain.

The best part: Katie just told me that there's a CrossFit workout called The Farmer's Walk, that's basically the same thing. You have to carry dumb-bells around the gym. I was thinking about signing up for CrossFit, but my life lately has been a series of interesting workouts. And it seems that no matter how far I get away from little ole Kerman, I'm still called a farmer.

Sure and Shir

"Suuuure." That doubtful delivery of the word 'sure'. When your cheapskate friend says they'll pay you back you think "Suuuure". When your "Always Late But Worth the Wait" bumper sticker friend promises to be on time..."Suuuure". When the lady at Trader Joe's says that Fat Free Half and Half tastes REALLY good...

The Mandarin word for "yes" is shir. Pronounced just like "sure". Often times it's used like we would use "yeah". For example, if someone gives you instructions or tells you facts, you'd say "shir" to confirm you understand.

To find a common word that means the SAME thing in both languages is exciting, but moving back to America it has made for some funny interactions.

For example:
When a homeowner is showing their home that's up for rent. They say, "The hardwood floors are in great shape, we've taken good care of them." "Shir/Suure". They side glance, Katie gives me a look, I'm confused. Ohhh, I sound like the skeptic tenant, doubting the hardwood floor maintenance.

When I'm interviewing for a job and I observe the very 'laid back' culture of the office. During the interview the interviewer says "And we pride ourselves on the work environment, everyone gets along really well here". "Shir/Sure". He responds, "Really, no one has a problem with anyone else". I nod, and realize I sound like the pessimistic new girl.

For the record, landlord with the Victorian home, your hardwood floors do look great, I agree.
And new employer, I'm excited about the work environment, I noticed the laid-back atmosphere when you weren't wearing shoes as I came in the front door. I can't wait to kick off my shoes and work really hard for you... really. Thanks for hiring me, despite what appeared to be a doubtful attitude.

Chew on this...

"Forgiveness flounders because I exclude my enemy from the community of humans and exclude myself from the community of sinners." -Miroslav Voth

Cheese.

A New Kind of Celebrity

In small town China, I was famous. I didn’t do anything to gain my celebrity; it was based purely on my white skin, oval eyes, and pearly whites. A day didn’t go by without someone stopping, pointing and staring. These days also included someone announcing that I was a ‘laowai!’- the reminder that I was a foreigner- that I looked different from everyone around me.

Now that I’m back in San Diego, I’m getting attention for an entirely different reason. The stares and pointing fingers have turned to waves and smiles. Why? Because I own a really cute bike. More specifically, a light yellow beach cruiser. The people of San Diego love it! Old men tell me about how they once had a bike like mine. Mechanics yell out “Nice ride!” and runners along Pacific Coast Highway wave and smile through heavy breathing.

I’ve tried to pinpoint the reason people feel the need to respond to a bicycle and I’ve concluded that it’s more than the bike. I make people feel good about living in San Diego. With high rent prices, high gas prices, and busy lives...a beach cruiser riding along the harbor with sailboats in the background makes people feel good. It doesn’t hurt that I’m smiling. I’m smiling because it’s 74 degrees, sunny, and I have the Pacific Ocean on one side and palm trees on the other. I’m smiling because the sky is a deep blue.

And I’m smiling because I met the postman of my new house and he ended our conversation with “Welcome to the ‘hood!” It’s good to be back.

irrelevant laws!

this, my friends, is how we were able to be at the u.s. men's beach volleyball game the next morning. definitely the most lively event! american classic rock, dancing (and falling) olympics mascots, sunshine, and great competition.

proof.

Zaijian Zhongguo.

That's Mandarin for "Goodbye China". After two years of calling this country 'home', I'm jumping on an airplane and heading back to the States, more specifically San Diego. No more Chinese visas, or Chinese buses, or authentic Chinese food. Thousands of thoughts are running through my mind, but what stands out most is the people. I'm going to miss my Chinese friends tremendously. Their hospitality, their sense of humor, their kindness towards me, and their loyalty.
I don't know the next time I'll step onto Chinese soil, could be next year, could be ten years from now. But I'm thankful for these beautiful friendships and the opportunities that I had for growth because of them.

Battle for the Bronze

Basically Brazil badly beat Belgium.

Reunion at the Great Wall

Beijing is a city of millions, with multiple tourist sites, and hundreds of thousands of tourists...I ran into Lomong again at the Mu Tian Yu Great Wall site. This time we took a picture.
In other news, I ate a scorpion last night. It was crunchy.

4 Down, 2 To Go

1. Women's Soccer- Canada vs. Argentina
Final Score: 2-1
Commentary: Canada's #15-MVP, Argentina's #6-Extremely Scrappy

2. Women's Soccer- China vs. Sweden
Final Score: 2-1
Commentary: Talk about home field advantage! 98% of the crowd was roaring for China, and 2% for Sweden. All but one of Sweden's starters had golden hair.

3. Men's Soccer- Nigeria vs. Japan
Final Score: 2-1
Commentary: The crowd was totally behind Nigeria (Japan and China don't have the best relationship). The most exciting game to watch thus far, full of action.

4. Men's Soccer- USA vs. Netherlands (Holland)
Final Score: 2-2
Commentary: Most of the action happened in the 2nd half (after we left to catch the only train back to Beijing). I learned some geography during the game, I once thought that Holland was a country- in fact, it's a province within the country of the Netherlands.

COMING UP...

Track and Field at the Bird's Nest, August 18th @ 7pm
6 Final events along with Medal Ceremonies!

Bronze Medal Soccer at Shanghai Stadium, August 22nd @ 7pm

On a scale of 1-10 in excitement, I'm about an 9.86.

An Epic Race

Trash talking by the Frenchmen before the race, saying they're going to "smash the Americans".

Michael Phelps' goal of 8 gold medals in Beijing.

After three swimmers, USA is behind by about a body length as 32 year old anchor Jason Lezak jumps in the water.

The crowd is roaring, everyone's on their feet.

Lezak swims 46.06, the fastest split in history, and wins by a fingertip.

Crowd goes wild.

Jason Lezak, Michael Phelps, Garrett Weber-Gale, and Cullen Jones win the Men's 4x100 Free Relay.

Gold medals.

Straight out of a movie.

Change, Change, Change...

For the former Beijing laowai's out there, I have some news...there's been changes in just the last month, that might leave you feeling lost in a city you once called home.

Here are some changes that I've noticed:

1. The absence of grandma recyclers. You know, the old women that encourage you to polish off your 1/4 bottle of water so that they can crush the precious plastic and stick it into their rice bag. I miss their little frames, big grins, and even bigger love for our Earth. ;) There must be a law, because the entire city is a recycler's dream.

2. Dongzhimen Station has been transformed. The long distance buses aren't formed on the street, instead there's an indoor bus terminal. (It's the large building that many hypothesized would be a parking lot.) And it's organized with signs! In addition, the much anticipated Airport Express has been opened, it's amazing. It's just like Line 5 (with the Hong Kong inspired glass doors). Don't worry, it still has it's Beijing charm, the entire place is lacking escalators. Travelers clad with 50 pounds of luggage, on their way to/from the airport, have to lug their bags up and down dozens of stairs. Good ole China, looks alright at first sight, but poorly built. Don't be mistaken, instead of spending the money on the escalator, there's a security guard being paid to help passengers struggling up the stairs. Why pay for technology when you can the hourly wage of 2RMB ($0.33/hour)?

3. Taxi drivers wear uniforms! Every Beijing taxi driver now wears the same light yellow, short sleeve, button up shirt with a navy blue/yellow striped tie. It's endearing to see the old men wearing their uniform, yelling "Hallo", and honking their way through the crowded streets.

4. Kro's Nest pizza has closed their Bei Da (Peking University) and Worker's Stadium locations! We eventually found their new location in an area of town that I'm not familiar with. I'm not sure why the Bei Da location closed, but the Worker's Stadium location is closed until the 26th because their location was within the Stadium's security area. We talked with the owner a bit, had a dance off, and my 10 year old cousin Daisy challenged a 40 year old Olympic cameraman to a split competition. Such a great atmosphere, no matter how many times it's moved. Not to mention, great pizza.

Some things haven't changed a bit: The vendors at Silk Alley are still grabby, the toddlers still wear split-bottom pants which makes for questionable puddles, and everyone still 'cuts' in line. Old men still read their newspapers on their fold out seats on the sidewalk, and the "mei you" (don't have) are still abundant and just as frustrating. The "yu xiang qiezi" (fish-flavored eggplant) still sounds questionable, but is as delicious as you remember it. Stop salivating, I know you are.

Lomong carried the flag for the US!

It's such an American story. A lost boy of Sudan, refugee for 10 years, adopted by a family in upstate New York and learns English. He then gets a full-ride scholarship for track and field to Northern Arizona University and goes through the process to become a US citizen. Just a year (to the day!) after becoming a US citizen, he qualifies to be on the US team for the 1500 meters. Then, through a democratic process, he is selected to be carry the US flag at the Opening Ceremonies.

Being around my ultra-patriotic grandma has rubbed off on me. I teared up last night when the US team walked around the track.

When asked about being voted to carry the flag, Lomong said, "The American flag means everything in my life -- everything that describes me, coming from another country and going through all of the stages that I have to become a U.S. citizen," Lomong said in the statement. "This is another amazing step for me in celebrating being an American. Seeing my fellow Americans coming behind me and supporting me will be a great honor -- the highest honor. It's just a happy day. I don't even have the words to describe how happy I am."

Here's the full story:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/08/06/AR2008080600877.html

Smoggy Skies and Shaky Fists

Beijing has tried so hard to have blue skies for the Olympics games. They've seeded the clouds, they've created odd/even days for driving (depending on the last digit of your license plate). They've shut down the coal factories, and all other factories surrounding the city. They've planted trees, millions of trees.

And here I sit, on 8/8/08, the day of Beijing's Opening Ceremony and it's smoggy. I can't see buildings just a block away. And I feel bad. I want the skies to be blue, I want the BOCOG to be able to keep their promise to the athletes. I want the media to be wrong, and to write articles about the clear blue skies.

On the August 6th we went to the first Olympic game of the '08 games- women's soccer in Tianjin. The temperature was 95 degrees, with 84% humidity, and smog so dense that we couldn't see the other side of the stadium clearly. Sitting still in that heat was not enjoyable. The game however was a lot of fun! Argentina vs. Canada was the first game and Canada dominated the game with a 2-1 victory. The Argentinian women were scrappy players, I've never seen soccer played like that.

The second game was China vs. Sweden. As a Stilson, I was cheering for Sweden, but the home field advantage was undeniable and China won the game 2-1. There were about 30 fans for Sweden and about 68,000 for China.

The way home was a disaster. All the bullet train tickets back to Beijing were sold out, with the next train being at 3 am. I won't get into the details but it involved a ton of frustration and 'shaky fist' moments. We eventually had to take taxis home, and didn't walk in the door until 1:30am, minus my grandma's wallet. Yeah, that's right...lost a wallet in a random Beijing taxi.

We're headed to the Lido Holiday Inn for an Opening Ceremony BBQ. That's right, celebrating in style.