The First Few Days

After that discouraging day of travel, things only went up. Forcing myself to be adventurous, I went to my complimentary breakfast and ate the best croissant of my life alone and then went to explore the town of Alibr. In order to get to Albir you have to walk down this tragically beautiful run down alley that goes through little farms and orange groves. Its beauty began to lift my spirits.

In town I kept myself busy that way I didn’t have to return to the hotel and become a recluse. First I want to an empty park (excluding the gardener) and read, then I visited the beach where I was mesmerized by it’s clear blue waters and the smooth white stones that littered the ground instead of sand, after I ventured inland where I ate at a little café and people watched. Though it wasn’t a very riveting day, it was nice and much needed after the hectic one I had had before.

The next day I was surprised by how great I was feeling and decided to go on (what should have been) a two-hour round-trip hike to the Camino El Faro. The beauty I saw that day was unbelievable, it was everything I hoped to see in Spain and more.

During the hike I met this really nice Norwegian lady with blue eyeliner who told me about her homeland and the history of the Camino El Faro. She was so sweet and gave me all the encouragement I needed to get through this upcoming adventure.

The lighthouse itself was really nothing special, but the view showed so much beauty off of the path that I decided to off road it during my journey back.

Finding a small clearing far enough from the other tourists, I decided to be rather hippie and lay down the many scarfs and coats I had brought with me and made a bed. Lying in the heat of the sun I put in my ear buds and began a meditation body scan. Giving in to the now, I escaped reality and become one with nature. The birds chirping around me just added to the magical effect the meditation brought and when it was over I felt as though I had been born again.

As I finished the rest of my hike through the Camino El Faro I began to notices the changes in my body, but more than that I noticed a change in me. As I walked back to civilization and looked around me, I wanted to cry because in that moment I had fallen in love with nature. There was nothing more beautiful in the world than earth itself and I finally felt at one with it. No longer did I wonder what people were doing back home or what my future was going to be like. Instead I wondered who else had walked these paths and if trees could talk what would stories would they have. Yes they were all silly childish thoughts but for my first time ever I stayed in the present even after I came out of a mediation or a yoga class. For the first time I felt at one with myself.

Good Bye America, Hello Spain!

On Tuesday I took my long awaited flights to Spain. I thought that it was going to be boring just like all flights but boy was I wrong.

The first one was normal enough. My only complaint was that I was at next to a “Bro” who kept trying to engage in conversation even though I had an eye mask on and ear buds in. It wasn’t until after my first flight that things got interesting.

When we landed I asked an airline worker where my new gate was, she then told me the number and letter –was even kind enough to write it on my ticket in case I forgot- faced me in the right direction. Since I had two hours to kill, I bought some food and made up camp at my gate where I stretched, wrote, ate, and took a nap. When it was time to board I gathered up my things and went forward only to find I was at the wrong gate. The airline attendant had directed me to the wrong place. Once I got my new gate number, I looked down at my watch and saw I only 5 minutes until my plane took off. So I ran.

I soon discovered that my gate was on the completely other side of the airport and would have to take the train. Of course when I reached the platform the train was just leaving so I had to wait for the next one. As each second ticked away, my anxiety grew more and more. On the train I met a woman who was also going to be on the same flight as me, so as we chugged through the airport I confided in her all of my fears about missing the plane but at the time trying to reassure her that everything was going to be alright. Her only reply was a confused “Si”.

When the train stopped I ditched her and ran through the airport thinking I could stop the plane for both of us since she obviously didn’t understand that we were late. When I reached the desk of our gate, I asked whether or not the plane had taken off yet, to which I got an even more confused look and the reply, “No, you have about an hour until take off.”

Shocked, I looked down at my watch and then up at their clock. Turns out my watch was an hour fast. I had forgotten to change it for daylight savings. Feeling like a complete fool, I hid myself in the back corner behind a pillar trying not to think about the stress headache that was coming on.

After an hour had past the airline worker told us our flight had been delayed twenty minutes due to technical difficulties. Twenty minutes later they told us that they had to get a new plane all together and that our new flight time was in two hours. A lot of groaning commenced but what made me groan was the fact that our new gate was one next to the one I had just come from.

While I waited, I made friends with this woman who told me stories of her travels and gave me 20 euros because I reminded her of her daughter and didn’t want me to get stranded when I finally did land. Then I explored the airport many shops and gates. Until finally, there was nothing left to do but go to my gate and wait.

By this point I had decided I hated Miami (the place where my layover way). I knew that it wasn’t Miami’s fault for my headache or my delayed flight but I obviously had no luck there and I wanted nothing more to do with it. So when it was time to board I excitedly ran forward and eagerly awaited my eight-hour flight out of, what I was pretty sure was, Hell.

Once we were all aboard, our pilot took off and as we were just about to hit the runway, our plane stopped. IT STOPPED. According to the loud speaker the coffee machine was broken and they needed to fix it before it leaked into the engine. Now I was certain that the Devil lived in Miami.

So the plane turned around and made it’s way back to our gate. While they were fixing it we were told we weren’t allowed to leave our seats, which no one listened to and everyone began walking about the cabin trying to figure out what was going on. Then something very unusual happened. During those two hours (yes two hours more) of being stuck on a grounded plane all of the passengers started to become friends.

The friendships started off in the usual way, bad talking a common enemy (American Airlines) and from there, grew into learning each others names, where we were all from, and that I was the only American on the mainly Spanish filled plane (or sitting in Economy at least). During this time I made friend with the two girls sitting next to me. They were 24 and 25 med students who had been backpacking through South America. To pass the time they taught me some Spanish and drew me a map of their county while telling me it’s history.

Right before we were about to take off for our second time a French family (who was sitting in the back row) started making their way to the exist explaining why to anyone who would listen in Spanish. According to new friends, they watched the repair guy fix the plane but all the guy really did was “put a band aid on a broken leg instead of a cast”

Everyone began freaking out and started gathering up their stuff by this point the pilot announced that we were allowed to leave if we wanted, but if we did we could not get our checked baggage or new ticket home. In those next five minutes I made the hardest decision of my life. Risk my life for Spain or save it and stay in Miami. I chose risking it.

The next eight hours were the worst. My stress headache turned into a clogged up nose, a sore throat, and an upset stomach. But since I had now become friends with everyone on a personal level, I had a multitude of mothers taking of me. One flight attendant would come by and place wet paper towel on my head to cool me down and a few others found me sinus tablets. At one point, this little girl began crying because she had been stuck in the plane for too long. Everyone in Economy came together and searched through bags for some chocolate and gum to help quiet her. Though it was probably the worst flight of my life, looking back I think it was probably the most amazing. That one flight restored my faith in humanity. It’s odd to think that in that one moment of terror a group of strangers become one.

I wish I could say my journey ended there, that would be such a happy ending, but it didn’t. I still had another flight (which I slept through) and bus ride equally as bad as Miami.

The Shuttle was filled with a few elderly European couples and a group of middle-aged women from New Castle. Two songs into our Journey, the song Brown Eyed Girl came on the radio, making one of the middle-aged women yell, “Oooo GIRL! That’s my song. TURN IT UPPP!” The bus driver didn’t so they spent the rest of the song yelling, “TURN IT UPPP!” missing the whole song entirely. Through out the rest of the drive they yelled tufor louder music and started a dance party in the back making everyone really annoyed and uncomfortable.

At our first stop the bus driver separated all of them and gave them assigned seating telling them that they couldn’t move or speak. Basically the bus driver put these middle-aged women in time out. Of course they didn’t listen and that only made the bus driver angrier. After they were gone, he was still angry (and I am pretty sure he tried to hit one of them as we were driving away). Soon I was the last one in the bus. After about five minutes we pulled up to a street corner and he told me to get out. Confused I asked him where my hotel was. He pointed somewhere and said few blocks that way. I should probably mention that it was midnight in a country I had never been to before that had a language I couldn’t speak, I soon became terrified.

“No, your manager told me you would drop me off at my hotel.”

But he didn’t listen he was too annoyed and didn’t want anything to do with me. So he flagged me down a taxi, took my bag and threw it into the back of his car and left me with a cab driver who didn’t speak English and for the first time, I felt alone. Putting on a fake air of confidents, I demanded the cab driver take me to the hotel that was written on a sheet of paper. He nodded and drove me there. Once I arrived I paid him (Money that should have gone towards something fun) and checked into a room that didn’t really feel safe.

Putting a chair up against my door that didn’t have a lock, I crawled into bed reassuring myself that I was as brave as my dad and as independent as my mom. Reassuring myself that I was strong enough to do this.

Emotions, feelings, being free? Oh my!

This past weekend I hopped in the car with my sister Molly and drove up to the mountains to join my family for a little weekend excursion.

Normally when my family goes up to the mountains I stay at home because of work or yoga training… or at least, that’s what I tell myself. But to be quite perfectly honest, the real reason might be because there is still a small part of me that doesn’t want to miss out on anything. I don’t want to miss that extra dollar I could earn, that new yoga pose I could master, or some amazing adventure a friend just thought of. And though the New Year has been filled with so many amazing happenings it has also been filled with emotional turmoil. So I decided to take a break from “my reality” and escape into the mountains for a weekend off from everyone and everything.

I guess I should start off by saying that “emotional turmoil” might be a tad dramatic. But I have been dealing with a lot of emotions as of late and, well, I just needed a break from them, okay?

You see, this past year I have been trying to become more open about how I feel and not see emotions (other than happiness) as a weakness. And let me tell you, it’s a struggle. Lately I feel as though I have been a waterfall of emotions, telling everyone left and right how I feel. Which is good, coming from never telling anyone anything  (of substance) at all. But right now I am finding that I don’t know how to communicate what I am feeling correctly. For instance, in November, I told a guy I liked him and I think he thought I was joking because he later on hooked up with a another girl in front of me and then gave me that “booyah” best mates sort of look. So I think a break to collect my thoughts and weed through everything was much needed.

The entire weekend I only did three things: read Mindful Yoga Mindful Life, go on hikes with my mom, and watched some mindless television. It was perfect.

I especially loved the walks with my mom. We hiked up the old ski slopes and walked through (probably closed off) meadows. We talked about life, our opinions on world matters, and my future. It was nice to talk about these things while feeling like we were the only two people in the world. It made things… simpler.

By the end of the weekend my brain felt so much clearer, I came to terms with the fact that though I was that guys friend and that I was sexually attracted to him, it didn’t mean I necessarily liked him. Also, just because he doesn’t like me doesn’t mean he is a bad person. That last one is common sense, I know, but you cannot imagine how many people bad talk someone when they find out they don’t like you or a friend back.

Another thing I learned, which might be the most important of them all, is that I am tired of being alone. My entire life I have gone from group to group, county to county, always changing up the people I keep in my life besides a rare a few. Though it has given me amazing opportunities and adventures, it has also left me rather lonely. I mean, I am twenty-one and I think it’s about time I had a serious, committed relationship. But I need to stop looking for it where I know I can’t find it or with people I know will give it to me even if I don’t fully like them back. It’s very selfish of me and it’s time to grow out of that childish trait. So I will stop looking and just stay in my hometown and be with the people who have stayed in my life since the beginning until I leave for Spain and maybe learn how to create some roots.

With all this in my mind, I went back to yoga Monday with a clear mind only to find we will be starting a new project of learning how to express ourselves correctly. I couldn’t believe it! The universe really does work in strange, miraculous ways. It could have sent me a relationship that I would have been too immature to understand but instead it gave me tools to grow as a human, to one day have a healthy relationship.

Sincerely,

HKx

The Wonders in my own Backyard

With Under the Tuscan Sun still fresh on my mind I decided to explore my hometown with my “little sister”, Olivia. As we drove through my town I showed her an old faded school bus with the words Jesus Saves stamped across the front and back of it I discovered about a week ago. The bus was parked in front of a house that seemed just as abandoned as the bus itself, making it a bit more unusual. 

After, we walked to the outskirts of town where I showed her the timeworn tire swing that has swung the children of my “turf” since before I can remember. There is something about an old tire swing that just makes you feel free. Maybe that’s why we are so envious of children? Children are unaware of boundaries we grown ups have created and are allowed to live their life in sheer bliss.

Even though the day doesn’t seem like much, it was such an amazing adventure that promised many more to come.

My outfit~
Shirt: Matalan
Skirt: Topshop
Beanie: gift

Olivia's Outfit:
Cardigan: Thrift store
Shirt: Target
Shorts: Urban Outfitters

Yonder in York

Travel:

Last Saturday my friend, Michaelanne and I explored the ancient city of York. Together we trekked up all two hundred and sixty-some stairs of York Minster’s Tower, marched across the great York Wall, and tried all the great delectable nourishment the city had to offer. I even got to try my first serving of fish and chips (something I feel would have tasted better if I wasn’t a vegetarian) and had some of the most relaxing Hot Chocolate I have ever tasted.. Though I am not a big fan of cities and would never wish to live in one, I would have to make an exception for this York. There is so much history hidden with in it’s chiseled stone that I do not think I could ever refuse a trip there.

I remembered as I walked down the cobbled roads I could not help but think of the Romans soldiers who had walked them before me; all the memories that had died with the old residents, and the history that was made there. I was once told that York was the oldest and most haunted town in the western world, now whether or not that is true I could not say, but I can assure you it is by far one of the greatest. Just one visit alone made me wish for a time machine all the more.

Fashion:

HKx
For my adventure in York I threw on a pair of black tights and a white laced dress from Next, when it cold I was able to bundle up in my scarf from Marks and Spencers and my mom's shrug from CAbi. Michaelanne is wearing a collection of clothing she borrow from a multiple of friend's closets. the hat is from goodwill, the purple pants are free people, the white shirt is a Ralph Lauren from her dad's closet, the cream sweater is my Grandad's (originally from Old Navy), and the black pea coat from anthropology is from her fairy-godmother's wardrobe. The YouTube video can be found on my channel: https://www.youtube.com/user/notingthemorningdew

London adventures and the very cool hotel

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 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9i7MBjL8gs

After our plane from Germany landed in England we decided to explore London for the next few days and because of this we ended up in the coolest hotel in history. Now when I say cool I don’t mean my interpretation of cool (which is basically anything The Doctor thinks is). No, I mean the media’s perception of the word. Just a imagine a place where a mass of disco balls are hanging in groups from the ceiling and neon lights line the walls and furniture, a place where the cool, rich twenty year olds go for a weekend excursion. That was the place we had happened to check into. It looked like I place I would go to with a boyfriend in two years or so, but not a place I would go to with my mom.

As we stayed in the this incredibly cool room we joked about how we were no where near cool enough for this place and wondered how we managed to book a room there. A mystery neither of us has yet to figure out. Thankfully that was the only place we felt out of and we enjoyed the rest of London immensely.

For our first full day of exploring we walked around Lester Square and visited the National Gallery where I saw the painting of Portrait of Louis-Auguste Schwiter (which I talked about in an earlier post). Then that evening we went to the West End to see the play 39 Steps, a comedic take off of the very famous book and Hitchcock film. Since I am already a fan of the story I found the show to be quite hilarious and very enjoyable. I have gladly added it to my list of favorites.

The next day we went to visit 221 B Bakers Street, where we explored Sherlock Holmes house. There, I invested in a deerstalker hat and decided I will one day own the entire Sherlock Holmes ensemble. After my mom and I tried shopping again and then went on a nice stroll through many of London’s grand parks.

All and all I would say it was quite a pleasant trip down to London where I discovered that I am very good at working public transportation and figuring out where things are.

HKx

Germany Adventures

A week ago my mom and I went a mini adventure within my giant one and spent a few days in Munich, Germany. It was a beautiful country with lovely sights to see but since it was also the first country I had ever been to where the first language was not English it was as confusing as the Island of Crete.

When we first arrived to the country we discovered that my conditioner bottle had exploded in my suitcase. Thankfully I had put all my clothes in my other bag but still that meant all of my chords and books were pretty much ruined. So my first day in Germany was spent wiping conditioner off all of my belongings.

Are first full day was thankfully all more adventurous since we decided to take on the town. Though Munich was lovely it really wasn’t to exciting since I have never big a huge fan of city life. So instead we explored city hall and decided to do some shopping, something neither my mom nor I enjoy. But since we were having an adventure we tried it anyways and within thirty minutes of it we were already exhausted and left with one item each; a navy blue top for my mom and an orange and blue stripped, African print tunic for me. It kind of reminds me of The Lion King.

The next day we woke up extra early so we could make a tour bus headed towards two of King Ludwig castles, the Linderhof Castle and Neuschwanstein Castle. The latter was the castle Walt Disney modeled Sleeping Beauties castle after and the former was the home where the king spent his final years. This adventure was more up our alley since we have always loved exploring history and what has come from it. If it weren’t for the terrible jet lag I was still getting over I would have never wanted to leave.

While we were exploring the castles we met two stewardesses who were on our tour, Sabina (who was from Russia) and Lesya (who was from the Ukraine). Sabina was kind enough to teach me some more German words to help me get by and at the end of the day the three of us exchanged information that way if any of us were ever traveling in each others homelands we would have a place to stay.

HKx

Airplane Adventures Part 1

After an hour long flight with the kiosk machine and thirteen hours of flying I finally made it to England. Which I must say was an adventure in it’s self.

Thankfully towards the beginning of this adventure I had my friends Paige, Arianna, Eric, and Brandon by my side to help make things somewhat easier, but when we reached security I was forced to say good bye by the laws of the airport and fend for myself (something that turned out to be a lot easier than I had originally expected). After a few moments I discovered that I loved the airport but more than anything I loved being in it alone.

You would think it would make for a boring plane ride but in fact it was the exact opposite. Because I was by myself I made friends with a New Zealander with blue and purple highlights named Noam. He was around my age and heading off to his second year of college. Together we played cards and joked about one day meeting up in the future while we waited in our terminal. All and all he was a pretty cool guy who I will probably never see again but had the pleasure of meeting.

On my first flight I was stuck sitting next to these two men who would only discuss the topics of politics and universities-- two things I really have no interest in. So instead I focused my attention on writing letters, making friendship bracelets, and reading North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell (an author who is much more appreciated in her homeland than in America).

When the plane landed I quickly stood up so that I could run to connecting flight, but the passage way between the airport and our plane had broken during our landing so I was stuck for a good thirty minutes hoping I wouldn’t miss my flight. When it was finally fixed I frantically ran through airport only to discover that my connecting flight was boarded and waiting for me.

During the last flight nothing really exciting happened since all I did was watch The Avengers and sleep (something I had never done on a plane before). And now that I have conquered the airport on my own I now feel as though I can get through whatever this adventure throws at me.

HKx
Thank you Paige, Arianna, Eric, and Brandon for all of your help! I couldn't have asked for a better send of party.

They say we are all One

Walking through the foliage and trees of the mountain, six girls climbed to the top. They weren’t going anywhere particular nor did they have any reason to go there but they did anyway. Sometimes you have to escape the world below and make yourself believe that you really are on the only ones alive to truly appreciate what you have and to know what you actually need.

When the six girls reached a flat boulder at the top they all took their seats and looked out a the beauty beyond them. They listened to the sound of the distant waterfall splashing against the rocks and examined the neighboring mountain in front of them. Upon it they saw amongst the tall green trees stood one auburn one. It would have looked rather lonesome if it weren’t the one matching green tree next to it. If tree's had stories of love it would seem that's this tree's only goal was to make the auburn one feel loved.

The scene was so romantic that one of the girls pulled out a book of poetry and began to read aloud while the five others placed themselves in random positions and listened eagerly to each passing phrase. Together they were at peace and on that rock things finally made sense.

Why must we complicate our lives with menial things such as who likes who and the size of our pants? How come nobody focuses on the moment and treats everyday like an adventure? As I lay on that boulder with my five friends I realized how rare it was that we should all enjoy this form of activity. None of us are from the same sort of group, in fact all of us come from different walks of life. And yet, within that moment, we were all pulled together by the art of the written word and mother nature herself.

One of the Lizards

was blowing bubbles

as it did pushups on the tree trunk

I did pushups this morning

on the carpet

and I blew bubbles of Bazooka

last night in the car

I believe the mystics are right

when they say we are all One 

HKx

Just around the riverbend

 

Though my summer has been quite rewarding, it wasn't until recently that I discovered I was taking my new home for granted. On Thursday the workers of this fine arts camp experienced cool winds for the first time since our arrival. So after our morning meeting I returned to my dorms, tugged a pair of jeans over my sun damaged legs and set off on an adventure.

Walking through the tall tree's of the forest that surrounded me, I reached a brook I happened upon my first week here. This particular brook is by far the prettiest one I have seen in a long time. It happens to remind me a bit of England or more specifically a film I watched as a child, entitled Fairytale: Based on a True Story.

As I mentioned before in a past post, I have always been interested by the mythical folk of the fairy realms. The whimsical or terrifying nature of each creature has always fascinated me beyond all measure. So whenever I find some place that is whimsical and would seem as though these beings from fables lived there, I write down the coordinates and return whenever I am in need of a little bit of magic.

And, I am excited to announce, that just beyond the riverbend more magic will be coming my way since I am going to be living England for three months starting August 25.

I will say --though I am extremely excited to be returning to my second home-- I am a bit concerned with who I will be spending most of my time with when over there. After all, it has been five years since I was last there and that time I came over with a friend. What am I suppose to do this time? True I will have my family, but spending three months straight with anyone could drive the sanest person crazy. So what am I to do? How do people meet others in a different country when they aren't in school?

A job would be my first option but that seems really unlikely since there are practically no jobs in England right now and that leaves me with my option left, I must hang out in bookstores and museums until someone notices me. A solution I am not too optimistic about. So if any of you guys have ideas about how to meet people please let me know in the comments below and I will be tremendously grateful.

HKx
The title is from the song Just Around the Riverbend from the Disney film Pocahontas.

We all have a dinosaur deep within us just trying to get out

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If you were to start a conversation with me about dinosaurs my brain would automatically go to the film franchise, Land Before Time, a childhood favorite. I remember wishing I was either Little Foot or Duckie, never quite sure which dinosaur was better. But as I grew up and my taste in films changed, so did my interest in dinosaurs. I lost all fascination for the extinct creatures and in my mind they were just fossils, something that had once been and were now nevermore. But to some people, dinosaurs are still the most amazing reptiles to have ever roamed the earth. One such individual happens to be my friend Eric. 

He adores the animals of legend so much, that if you were to ask him about them he would not only tell you that his favorite dinosaur is the Parasaurolophus, but he would also give you a full explanation about why he chose this rare beast. I believe it has something to do with the shape of their heads head and the sound it makes. Honestly his is knowledge of dinosaurs is quite extensive that I feel as though I should stop trying to write about them now while I am still ahead. Instead I would like to draw attention to his love for them and my indifference.

Normally, if I don’t like something I don’t do it but if someone I care about wants to, I tend to put up with it despite my general feelings towards it. So when Eric realized we would pass by World’s Biggest Dinosaur --a place in the middle of nowhere that has giant concrete dinosaurs-- on our way to camp, I came to the conclusion I was stuck and had to go. Sadly, I had gone there once before and the only thing it left me with was memories on how I wanted to be anywhere but there. But who was I to ruin his dreams? 

When we arrived it was just how I remembered it: Hot, windy, and filled with dinosaurs in need of a fresh coat of paint. Nervously I turned to Eric, hoping he wasn’t too disappointed with the outcome of our detour, but instead I saw a child who seemed to be visiting Disneyland for their first time and suddenly the barren wasteland became a place filled with magic.

Together we ran around like kids, posing like dinosaurs and climbing into a Tyrannosaurus Rex’s mouth. While we were there he bought many figurines of his favorite dinosaur and left with a huge smile on his face. Giving us a bright start to camp counselor duties, also giving me a new appreciation for dinosaurs.

HKx
The quote above is from the Scottish actor Collin Mochrie.

The Joys and Stress of Packing

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This past week has been rather bittersweet since it has been filled with fare-thee-wells and endless amounts of packing. Why you ask? Because tomorrow is the day I finally leave to become a camp counselor.

I am so excited about my future prospects that I can barely hold it in. With each article of clothing --or needed item-- I pack, I feel as though I am one step closer to my newest endeavor. And with this great adventure who knows what else will come?

The anticipation, I will admit, is making me a bit nervous. During this past week I had a dream that I woke up on the day I was leaving five hours late and everything that I needed to take in the laundry hamper. When I awoke sweat dripped from my brow and I immediately got up and frantically began to pack, smelling each piece of clothing so that I could assure myself it was clean.

As of this moment all of my clothes have been packed and laundered (halleluiah) and all of my toiletries, bedding, and shoes are neatly stowed away into their intended bags. Even my guitar, ukulele, and white board are ready to go. All I have left to pack into my car is me.

I must say, that through all of this packing I have slowly come to realize I have no idea what I actually need for this job, Will thirty pieces of clothing be enough? Or is that too much? I don’t want to look like a pack-mule nor do I want to be named the bag lady. Then I ask myself, why do I care so much?

I know that pre-journey jitters are normal and that almost everyone goes through them, but if my goal is to become a writer for adventure novels shouldn’t I know how to pack accordingly? After all, it’s not like Wendy was like, “Hey Peter, so what’s the weather like in Neverland? Should I bring a coat? Maybe an extra pair of socks?”

Do any of you guys have any packing tips? Whether they’re for real life or stories? Or, better yet, do any of you know where I can get Mary Poppins carpetbag?

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HKx

Brandon Lee took the pictures above in December of 2011. The brief case, along with everything I am wearing, is from all four of my grandparents’ closets.

The Grunion Run

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On June 6^th my friends Arianna, Brandon, and Eric and I decided to go to the grunion run. For those of you who don’t know what a grunion run is, it’s when the grunion fish swim out onto the beach at midnight with the waves of high tide and mate. I know what you are thinking, why in goodness name we would we want to go and see that? Well when this is happening (something that only happens about twice a month) people go down to the beach and try to catch them with their bare hands.

Honestly, I don’t know when this odd activity began but I do know that my mom did it with her friends when she was my age and some towns even take sport in it. But I can tell you why this sport has continued after all these years: it’s fun. Something about chasing after fish at the dead of night with only the moonlight for guidance is riveting. The way that same moonlight reflects off the fish’s scales, making each look like patronesses swiveling down from the sand into the sea. The sound of someone spotting sliver of silver light off in the distance, the whole thing makes my heart race and my adrenaline escalade.

But before you think we are really weird and disgusting, I would like to assure you that we did not try to grab them when they are in the midst creating new life. We waited until they started to swim back to the sea to catch them. And once they were done, we would chase after them, frantically trying to one but were usually met with the warm waves of the ocean instead.

It’s an odd feeling, being in the water while a school of fish brush against your legs. For me, it helps me feel closer to nature and my ancestors, who probably (at one point of another) had to catch fish with their own hands to survive. It’s such a fulfilling accomplishment catching a fish without the aid of a net or pole. To catch something as slippery as fish makes you feel nothing more than alive and, let’s face it, a bit wild.

After each victorious scream and raised fists fish, we would return our little prisoner to where they belonged making a game of it all the while. At first we were in the Hunger Games and who ever caught the most fish would win because they had defeated starvation. Then we were at war with the fish, but that game quickly ended once we realized that a few of the fish weren’t strong enough to swim back their little homes. So, naturally, we became The Grunion Search and Rescue Team.

When the night was over and the fish had retreated back into their watery beds, we left the beach smiling from ear to ear. Each of feeling, that if it came down to it, we would be able to survive on a deserted island. Because, to us, the adventure we had partaken in was proof enough.

HKx