I don't have a lot of time to write at this moment, as I'm swamped with cleaning, unpacking, calling utilities, etc. But I just wanted to say that we arrived safely on Wednesday, and we are sleeping in our house for the first time tonight! I will post more photos and comments from our journey--and some of our new home--soon. (Hopefully we'll have Internet access at the house soon, which would make that a lot easier. At this point, I have to go to a coffee shop to use my computer.)

Old Faithful

I love the way the steam melds with the clouds in this shot:

On Monday morning, we drove into the park for the second time. At the ranger station, there was a sign saying that Beartooth Highway was closed again. Apparently, there were a couple avalanches two hours or so after we drove by!

Butte. Perhaps the less said about Butte, the better. I don’t think we’ll be staying there again. Our hotel, our hotel room, our dinner options . . . Yeah, the less said, the better. :)

issues

I've been trying to blog for the last few days, with little success. Our hotel in Butte said it had wireless, but it would take minutes--literally minutes--to load a page. And now, in Spokane, I keep getting a "Bad Request" message when I try to upload photos to my blog. Ugh. I've been working on this for hours now, and we need to get ready to leave. I'm going to have to try to post all this when we get to Olympia, I guess. It might be a few days. Sorry.

more Yellowstone

Firehole River


Mammoth Hot Spring

Jupiter Terrace:



Minerva Terrace, currently inactive:

Liberty Cap, a dormant hot spring cone:

Palette Spring:

detail of running water and mineral deposits at Palette Spring:

Pronghorn

Pronghorn are the fastest land mammals in the New World.

Female pronghorn and young high up on the hillside:

Male pronghorn:

Bison videos! Excuse my raspy voice; I think I'm getting laryngitis or something. I'm down to a whisper now, which is probably good, as Liam is sleeping.

Today, Sunday, the first of June, we drove from Billings to Yellowstone. We left Billings at around noon, after stopping by Scott's house to see his parents and to meet their dog, Farley. We also had the privilege of seeing Scott's current photo show. His photography is really amazing.

The drive to Yellowstone was, of course, beautiful. We took Beartooth Highway and entered Yellowstone through the northeast entrance. This was the most convenient entrance for us by far, and we're really lucky it was open--it was closed until yesterday due to an avalanche. The highest point in our ascent up Beartooth Pass was close to 9000 feet. Here are some photos of our drive over the pass. I'm really bummed that the sky wasn't blue; the photos would've turned out a lot better.

At one point during our drive up the pass, I looked up at one of the snowy peaks and saw squiggly lines that looked exactly like ski tracks. I showed Steve, but he was skeptical. "Um, I really think those are ski tracks," I said. Sure enough, a couple seconds later I saw someone skiing (or snowboarding) down the peak. Incredible.

Our car has been doing so well up until now, and we were dismayed when it gave a violent lurch today while we were in The Middle of Nowhere, Montana. It was almost like it lost power for a second, but then kept right on going with no problem. It did this several more times. We racked our brains to figure out what was happening, and we even called my brother to see if he had any ideas. We came up with some possible problems but nothing definitive. We kept trying new methods that we hoped would make the problem go away (turning off cruise control, turning off the air conditioning, turning off the fan, staring at the engine and prodding belts and wires, putting premium gas in the car . . . ). The lurches kept happening at long and unpredictable intervals throughout our trip to Yellowstone, through our drive up the somewhat treacherous pass and down the other side, and on our trek through the park. It made us very tense, particularly because we were so far from home (either Aurora or Olympia).

Finally, as we were ascending another mountain within the park, I had an epiphany. I remembered that Steve had just changed the car battery about a week ago. I asked, "Steve, do you think maybe one of the battery connections is coming loose?" (This had happened to one of our other cars years ago, but I didn't even remember that. In that case, the car was an automatic and would just totally die whenever the connection would loosen. In this case, our car is a stickshift, so it keeps going after a momentary hesitation.) Anyway, Steve checked the battery connections, and sure enough, one of them was loose! Once we got to our hotel on the west side of Yellowstone, he tightened it up. We're hoping and praying that that was indeed the problem, and that it's now fixed. We'd appreciate your prayers about this too.

We had lunch by Soda Butte Creek, just inside the eastern edge of Yellowstone (see photo below). After lunch, I walked Jackson along the road, and he found what I'm pretty sure was some coyote poop. He was very interested in his find--he even tried to roll in it! This is not a typical Jackson reaction when encountering dog poop (which is one of the reasons I think it was coyote), and I'm really glad I caught him before he smeared it all over himself.

Over the past few weeks, I've been assembling a bag of treasures for Liam. Each day of our journey, he gets a brand new toy or activity at some point during the drive. Today's surprise was a bunch of animal figurines--cow, horse, chicken, bighorn sheep (some of you will catch the significance of this), and even a pig that oinks. He is very much enjoying his new collection, and he's working on perfecting his pig oink. He shared it with the hostess at the restaurant where we ate tonight, and she thought it was adorable, as do we.

Below are some photos of scenery within Yellowstone.

Beryl Spring:

Close-up of Beryl Spring's boiling water:



Gibbon Falls:


We also saw bison, elk, and even a pronghorn who had apparently just given birth to two calves (fawns?). At any rate, the pronghorn was so far away that we could hardly see her, and we couldn't see her newborn babies at all. But the huge crowd of people around us could see her quite well with their enormous telephoto lenses, binoculars, and telescopes. Below are a few of photos of bison. Don't worry; the second one is a zoom. I'm not a complete idiot, and I have no desire to be gored. I took the third one from the sunroof of our car. I'm also going to post some video from that particular bison sighting, which was amazing.







Now we're trying to decide what to do tomorrow. We were planning to take a quick morning drive into the park to see the typical tourist trap (Old Faithful), then head out to Missoula, MT. But we're having so much fun here that we're thinking about staying another night and skipping Missoula, or possibly driving to Bozeman, MT, instead of Missoula, which would give us more time in the park before we had to leave.

My camera ran out of battery this afternoon, and I idiotically forgot to bring the charger cord with us. Right now it's on the moving truck, which is somewhere in the Dakotas for all I know. We went to a camera shop here in West Yellowstone to see if we could get a charger cord or another battery (which wouldn't do us much good anyway, as they are sold uncharged). We didn't find either, at any rate--apparently our camera is fairly obscure. But I was desperate to have a camera, because there is so much to photograph in Yellowstone!

Besides, I dropped our camera about a year ago, and now it is very finicky. When you first turn it on, the screen is dark, and if you take a photo, it turns out entirely black. But then, once you've taken that first photo of absolutely nothing, it works just fine. However, this ritual can be quite frustrating, particularly when you're trying to capture a fleeting moment. We've been talking for months about getting a new camera, but we've been dragging our feet. I mean, technically our camera works, so we felt like getting a new one would be frivolous (not to mention expensive!).

Anyway, we did end up getting a new camera. This has to be the quickest, most impulsive decision of this sort that I've ever made. Typically I'll do hours of research before making this type of purchase. But the camera shop was closing in less than a half hour, so I did the next best thing: I got a personal recommendation. I called my friend Jan. She and my friend Elizabeth have the same camera, and they both like it very well. Hopefully I'll like it too!

We officially left Chicagoland on Thursday. It was so strange to see our empty house.

We ate lunch in our house but didn't have any chairs, so Liam had to dine on the kitchen counter.

We're in Billings, MT, now. We had very long days on Thursday and Friday; in both cases we didn't get to our hotel until after 11 p.m. This means that Liam didn't get much sleep, and it also means that I didn't have a chance to blog. But today we actually got to our destination before dark. *gasp!*

Overall, things have gone pretty well. We had a fairly tense drive to Minneapolis in the dark on Thursday, with a tremendous downpour making it difficult to see the road. Other than that, our drives have been pretty uneventful. Our car is doing just fine, aside from a hole in the muffler that makes it sound like we're trying unsuccessfully to trick out a Mazda 626. :) We use a tape adapter so we can listen to the music on our MP3 players through our car's stereo, but the tape player stopped working about 15 minutes into the first leg of our journey on Thursday. Plus, the car's antenna is broken, so we don't get radio reception. Thankfully, we had borrowed a long book on CD (Jane Eyre) from the library, and we've been enjoying listening to that. Steve has never read Jane Eyre, and it's been so many years since I have that it's really new for both of us. Liam and Jackson also seem riveted by the tale.

We got to see our friends Julie and Dennis (and their three kids) in St. Paul, but I'm kicking myself for not taking any photos! Here in Billings, we've had the privilege of spending some time with our friends Jan and Tim (and their two kids--see photos below), as well as our good friend Scott.

The drive from Bismarck, ND, to Billings today was beautiful. We passed through flat farmland, rolling hills, buttes, the Painted Canyon, and craggy hills. Once we got into Montana, our route took us along the Yellowstone River most of the way to Billings. We can see snow-covered mountains in the far distance from our hotel window here.

We ate lunch today in Glendive, MT, which, according to our friend Scott, is the smallest media market in the country. They have their own TV channel, which is basically run by one guy. We ate at one of probably two restaurants in the town--a Pizza Hut in a strip mall, with Jackson barking at us from the car the whole time. (Don't worry, he had plenty of shade and ventilation.)

Liam is doing great with the long drives. He gets bored and irritated at times, of course, but he really is handling it remarkably well. He doesn't sleep much in the car, though; he'll fall asleep, but he won't sleep for nearly as long as he would in his crib. This means that he's not getting good naps, on top of getting so little sleep at night. From now on, though, our driving days should be shorter, so hopefully he'll be able to have a better routine.

Jackson is traveling like a champ. He sleeps contentedly on the back seat next to Liam's car seat every day, strapped into his own safety belt.

Jackson has gotten much better about hotels too--no pacing or whining anymore. He had fun looking out the window of our fifth-story hotel room in Bismarck from his perch atop the air conditioner.

We're on to Yellowstone tomorrow!

We took this photo today; it should give you an idea of the vast distances and sparse population of Montana:

(As you've probably guessed, Miles is a street name.)

This'll be a short one; hopefully I'll have a chance to write more tomorrow/today (it's 1:15 am). Steve just got back to the hotel from cleaning our house. He is absolutely exhausted, understandably. Come to think of it, so am I, but it seems pretty unfair for me to complain when he spent the last five hours cleaning, and I spent them hanging out with Monaca and then watching David Letterman, Conan, and part of Dr. Phil (hey--the pickins were slim, okay?!).

Movin' out

So, the packers/movers came today. It's been a stressful couple of days getting ready for them to come; I'll spare you the details, but let's just say that it's hard when you're waiting till the last possible moment to take down paintings, etc., so that your house looks good for realtor showings. Last night (or should I say this morning?) we got to bed after 3 am. (Side note: Our house has not sold yet. Sigh. We'd appreciate prayers about this.)

We are in Aurora until Thursday morning, but we're staying in a hotel here for the next two nights, since we don't really have furniture, dishes, etc. available in our house anymore. Thankfully, Steve's company is paying for hotels.

I'm sitting in our hotel suite right now, with Jackson unwillingly at my feet and Liam sleeping in the bedroom. Our poor pooch is so nervous and unsure about what's going on. He's whining continually, particularly because Steve left to go help the movers get stuff out of our attic. Jackson just doesn't understand what's going on, poor guy. I actually had to attach his leash to the table so that he would stop scratching at the door. Here's a photo:

"Sharon Lamb, in The Secret Lives of Girls, says the two most important prohibitions for girls, entering the twenty-first century, are against sex and aggression. For women, exhibiting either kind of behavior--sexual or aggressive--is a potentially dangerous transgression. It can be seen as reneging on the promise that, according to Dana Crowley Jack in Behind the Mask, extends chivalric protections to women in exchange for their agreeing to be gentle, nurturing, and submissive. To be caught desiring either is to be caught eating forbidden fruit. And the repercussion is to be not only cast out but recast, positioned as something other than purely feminine, at once deprived of and liberated from a certain social compact."

- Without Apology, by Leah Hager Cohen

"If I were to die from eating something fattening, it would be bacon."

- Steve Taylor

"The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."

- Middlemarch, by George Eliot

"Love is like malaria--once it's under your skin, it's never really gone."

-Australian guy on "Crossing Jordan"

Weird photo

Okay, I invariably get to a point where I'm pretty confident in my technical abilities and my knowledge of blogging, and then something like this happens. Look to the left. Can anyone help me figure out why my photo is all squished, even though it looks fine on my blogger dashboard? And can you tell me how I can fix it?

Yet another quote

"We are in the position of a little child entering a huge library filled with books in many languages. The child knows someone must have written those books. It does not know how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child dimly suspects a mysterious order in the arrangement of the books but doesn't know what it is. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of even the most intelligent human being toward God. We see the universe marvelously arranged and obeying certain laws but only dimly understand these laws."

- Albert Einstein

Dancing dogs

Yes, I'm a crazy dog person.

More quotes

"The mistakes that we male and female mortals make when we have our own way might fairly raise some wonder that we are so fond of it."

-Middlemarch, by George Eliot

"Femininity is not the thing I hate once a month, it is not a collection of fatty deposits, not a style of clothing, or an overabundance of specific hormones. Femininity is a part of my essence, or philosophically speaking, my soul. Femininity is who I am, not merely what I do."

-Ruby Slippers, by Jonalyn Grace Fincher

Literary quotes

Here are a couple quotes that struck me as I was reading this week:

“He was, and is yet most likely, the wearisomest self-righteous Pharisee that ever ransacked a Bible to rake the promises to himself and fling the curses to his neighbours.”

–Nelly Dean, in reference to Joseph (Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë)

“[Marriage] is, of all transactions, the one in which people expect most from others, and are least honest themselves.”

–Mary Crawford (Mansfield Park, by Jane Austen)

Library voice

The close tie between patriotism and Christianity

Butt out

I have never before agreed so much with Tyra Banks. Check this out:

February in Santa Cruz, CA (my birthplace)

Grrr . . . Minor rant: While I love most things about this template, I hate how it automatically capitalizes every word in the title of a post. The editor in me cringes!

Testing my patience

I was disappointed to read the following on a Christian crisis-pregnancy-center Web site. It's a test entitled "Am I going to heaven?" Most disappointing of all is probably the last part of the test.

Am I going to heaven?

It's not very encouraging that I'm surprised by this.

You know the Bible 100%!

Wow! You are awesome! You are a true Biblical scholar, not just a hearer but a personal reader! The books, the characters, the events, the verses - you know it all! You are fantastic!

Ultimate Bible Quiz
Create MySpace Quizzes

I am

I am sleepy.

I want ice cream.

I have long second toes.

I wish I could fall asleep.

I hate it when my son gets shots.

I fear disappointing people.

I hear my son crying in the monitor.

I search for poop stains on baby clothes.

I wonder if I’m a better person than I was five years ago.

I regret saying vindictive things.

I love seeing my son smile at me in the morning.

I ache to go home again.

I think ½ cup is a ridiculous serving size for ice cream.

I always position toilet paper rolls with the paper coming over the top.

I usually correct typos I find in books.

I am not kidding.

I dance in smarty pants.

I sing without realizing it.

I never eat just ½ cup of ice cream.

I rarely lose things (famous last words).

I cry when I share details about my life (even fairly superficial ones) in groups.

I am not always good at giving people grace.

I lose weight when I get pregnant.

I'm confused by people who are purposely and randomly cruel.

I need to clean the bathrooms.



Now it's your turn!

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Imperial Majesty Wendy the Amicable of Deepest Throcking Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

True Confessions

We still have all our Christmas decorations up--outdoor and indoor (including the Christmas tree). The Christmas lights outside all still go on at dusk, as do the tree lights. Maybe I should send this in to PostSecret (see link at left).

Dance

Here's another video from OK Go, the group that did "Here We Go" (with the treadmills video).

Poem

I thought this was interesting.

The Calf's Path
Sam Walter Foss (1895)

One day through the primeval wood
A calf walked home as good calves should;
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail as all calves do.
Since then three hundred years have fled,
And I infer the calf is dead;
But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral tale.

The trail was taken up next day
By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bellwether sheep
Pursued the trail o'er hill and glade,
Through those old woods a path was made.
And many men wound in and out,
And dodged and turned and bent about,
And uttered words of righteous wrath
Because 'twas such a crooked path;
But still they followed--do not laugh--
The first migrations of that calf,
And through this winding wood-way stalked
Because he wobbled when he walked.

This forest path became a lane
That bent and turned and turned again;
This crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse with his load
Toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus a century and a half
They trod the footsteps of that calf.

The years passed on in swiftness fleet,
The road became a village street;
And this before men were aware,
A city's crowded thoroughfare.
And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half
Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed this zigzag calf about
And o'er crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.
A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead.
They followed still his crooked way,
And lost one hundred years a day;
For thus such reverence is lent
To well-established precedent.

A moral lesson this might teach
Were I ordained and called to preach;
For men are prone to go it blind
Along the Calf-path of the mind,
And work away from sun to sun
To do what other men have done.
They follow in the beaten track
And out and in, and forth and back,
And still their devious course pursue,
To keep the path that others do,
They keep the path a sacred groove,
Along which all their lives they move;
But how the wise old wood-gods laugh,
Who saw the first primeval calf.

Ah, many things this tale might teach -
But I am not ordained to preach.

Liam's Blog

For those who are interested, I've updated Liam's blog (previously my pregnancy blog). You can access it from the link to the left. From now on, I'll post new posts at the top rather than the bottom.

In case you didn't know, at the very bottom of the page are early photos of Liam as well as a post describing the labor-and-delivery experience.

Long time no write

Whew! This parenting thing is hard. Don't have time to write. Haven't for weeks . . . and don't know if I ever will again. :)

How confident R U feeling 2day?

Your Language Arts Grade: 100%

Way to go! You know not to trust the MS Grammar Check and you know "no" from "know." Now, go forth and spread the good word (or at least, the proper use of apostrophes).

Are You Gooder at Grammar?
Make a Quiz

My Little Boy

Liam Elliot Taylor

born 8 November 2006, 10:36 a.m.

8 pounds 2 ounces

19 1/2 inches

Trick or treat

Here are some Halloween "treats" for you.

Flaming Bag of Poo

Why Dogs Hate Halloween

Note: I'm not endorsing either Web site by posting these links.

New look

Now that things are showing up correctly, I'm liking the new look. I've also added some stuff to the sidebar (e.g., books I'm reading) and changed other things (e.g., I no longer have people's full names listed in the "My Friends' Blogs" section).

As a bonus, through this whole process, I've learned quite a bit about code. (Though I still have more to learn. Next item of business: Figure out how to add graphics to the sidebar and make them hyperlinks.)

It's kind of depressing how much time I spend tinkering with my blog. (That would sound kind of naughty to someone who didn't know what a blog was. Hee hee.) But when you've really got nothing else to do, it helps pass the time.

Aaggh!

Okay, more progress. Now my posts are showing up in the right place, but my photo is enormous! Nobody wants to see me on the big screen!

Some progress . . .

Okay, at least now the font looks right. Thanks for the help, Mike! Still working on the other problem . . .

Bear with me

Yes, I'm trying a new template (thanks for the tip, Julie), and yes, I realize that it doesn't look right yet. Everything is showing up as part of the sidebar. That's why the posts are displayed below the sidebar info instead of next to it; it's also why the font in my posts is so flowery and why every word in my posts is capitalized. I'm working on it. I'll fix it ASAICFOH (as soon as I can figure out how). Any hints from HTML-savvy friends? I've never been trained at all in HTML, so I'm learning as I go.

You've Changed 64% in 10 Years

Compared to who you were ten years ago, you've changed a great deal. In fact, you're probably in a completely different phase of your life - and very happy about it!

How Much Have You Changed in 10 Years?

If you go with my married name . . .

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 863 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

If you go with my maiden name . . .

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 147 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

Your English Skills:

Grammar: 100% Punctuation: 100% Spelling: 100% Vocabulary: 100%

Does Your English Cut the Mustard?

Getting sick of these yet?

Julie C., you need to take this quiz.

Your Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English

15% Upper Midwestern

10% Dixie

5% Yankee

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Is this a good thing?

Your Geek Profile:

Academic Geekiness: Highest Music Geekiness: High Internet Geekiness: Low Movie Geekiness: Low Fashion Geekiness: None Gamer Geekiness: None Geekiness in Love: None General Geekiness: None SciFi Geekiness: None

How Geeky Are You?

Well, at least they got the country right.

You Belong in Paris

You enjoy all that life has to offer, and you can appreciate the fine tastes and sites of Paris. You're the perfect person to wander the streets of Paris aimlessly, enjoying architecture and a crepe.

What European City Do You Belong In?

Funny New Link

Check out this link, Crummy Church Signs. It's hilarious . . . and sometimes disturbing.

I Didn't Know Treadmills Could Be So Cool

Check out this awesome video.

Book Survey

One book that changed your life: The Secret Knowledge of Grown-Ups by David Wisniewski

One book that you’ve read more than once: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

One book you’d want on a desert island: Wilderness Survival by Gregory J. Davenport

One book that made you laugh: Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

One book that made you cry: The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

One book you wish had been written: Beyond Gender: Why "Male and Female He Created Them" Doesn't Come Close to Encapsulating God's Creativity

One book you wish had never been written: Due to a current source of part-time income that could be jeopardized if I revealed the title, author, and a link, I'll just reveal the initials: BUB by JD (if you don't get it, you'll have to ask me)

One book you’re currently reading: Les Miserables (sorry, I don't know how to do accent marks in HTML) by Victor Hugo (unabridged, 3-volume version in French)

One book you’ve been meaning to read: 1984 by George Orwell (I know, I know: "Gasp! You were an English major and you've never read that?!" I've read a lot of his essays--honest!)

One book you’d like to write: The Joy of Borgle Hounds

Now tag 5 people: Lori Day, Karl Gunther, Kelly Wood, Karin Buursma, Paul Hewson

Easter Picture

This had me laughing for a long time.

Blonde Joke

I don't like stereotype jokes (and blonde jokes fit in this category), but this one is hilarious! I'm even blonde and I like it. To read it, click here.

What Wendy Needs

I steal most of my good blogging ideas from Julie and Mike. Here’s a great one: Google “[your name] needs” and copy down the best results. Here’s are my results. There were so many good ones that I made several categories.

I’ve also got some coarser ones — probably the funniest list of all; they’re on my R-rated blog. If you don’t have the address and want it, let me know.

* * * * *

Wendy needs your opinion on this.
There are some things that Wendy needs to know.

Funniest Clean Ones
1. Wendy needs a little time to dress her boy toy up and take him on parade.
2. Wendy needs to raise her voice to be heard. . . . Being hot and sexy is fun for a while, but it sure does get boring.
3. Wendy needs to crawl back into her hole and fade into history (that will never be remembered. Hurray!).
4. Wendy needs to die a slow, torturous TV death.
5. Wendy needs Steve to hold an intervention with Jimmy Mac.
6. Wendy needs me now . . . before it’s too late.
7. Wendy needs a whipping.
8. Wendy needs to get herself some Gavin.
9. Wendy needs something fruity!
10. Wendy needs her own show.

Wow! That’s Deep.
1. Wendy needs to revive her blog because we are all missing out by her being on blog hiatus.
2. Wendy needs to balance her supernatural abilities with quick thinking and resourcefulness.
3. Wendy needs to answer the question of equality.
4. Wendy needs a patient, loving home to help her realize that humans are not the enemy. After a harsh existence on the outside, it will take time to gain her trust. But there is nothing more rewarding than that moment when eyes once filled with fear gaze at you with love.
5. Wendy needs to witness both of these extremes at this important point in her life, so that she is able to find a middle path.
6. Wendy needs to see that Jesus Christ is the Messiah the Jews have been waiting for (I assume she’s Jewish, but I could be wrong).
7. Wendy needs now to be educated as a young woman, not a child.
8. Wendy needs rescuing, but only for a little while.
9. Wendy needs to find herself very quickly.
10. Wendy needs to come up with some new and diverse real facts.

Couldn’t Have Said It Better Myself
1. Wendy needs to get away for a while.
2. Wendy needs a place as remote and isolated as my ranch to stay for a while.
3. Wendy needs mental help.
4. Wendy needs your help.
5. Wendy needs donations.
6. Wendy needs to grow up.
7. Wendy needs to get a life.
8. Wendy needs to apologise some more.
9. Wendy needs to have the right things at the right time.
10. As if Wendy needs any help!

That’s News to Me!
1. Wendy needs to be nominated.
2. Wendy needs to pay a little better so that people with brains will want to work.
3. Wendy needs a new home and she will bring her own truck.
4. Wendy needs to KNIT.
5. Wendy needs help building a soccer field.
6. Wendy needs three people to get her out of a bad situation.
7. Wendy needs help, to the tune of more than Australian $50,000.
8. Wendy needs a zoologist.
9. Wendy needs a good plumber.
10. Wendy needs a new hiking partner.

Physical Needs
1. Wendy needs an overhaul.
2. Wendy needs sleep.
3. WENDY NEEDS TO GO!!
4. Wendy needs more HUGS!
5. Wendy needs to eat.
6. Wendy needs lungs and a heart.
7. Wendy needs to shut herself up.

Emotional Needs
1. Wendy needs a compliment.
2. Wendy needs to be assured by you.
3. Wendy needs someone to talk to.
4. Wendy needs a man—no, a gentleman.
5. Wendy needs a mommy.
6. Wendy needs a family who is fairly stable.
7. Wendy needs some practice with relating to people.
8. Wendy needs to get on with her own life and stop living in the past.
9. Wendy needs to be ashamed of herself.

Occupational Needs
1. Wendy needs a job.
2. Wendy needs proper training on how to handle stress in the work environment.
3. Wendy needs five personal assistants.
4. Wendy needs an editor.
5. Wendy needs to go back to selling fast food.

I'm a Weirdo

Ha! I'm weirder than both Julie and Mike! (Only people like us would see this as a good thing.)

You Are 50% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird... But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

Ah, Homecoming . . .

What a wonderful time of year for the student-council advisor . . . NOT. It's so busy at school right now, what with Homecoming court, the dance, spirit week. . . . My stuco kids have decided to spend $2500 on balloons for the dance. Two thousand five hundred dollars. On BALLOONS. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but it's what they want.

My department head is coming in to do an observation/evaluation during my fourth-block class tomorrow (Wednesday). I'd appreciate your thoughts and prayers.

Busybusybusy

That's all.

Which Saint Are You?

You are Joan of Arc! You don't really want to hurt
anyone, but if they attack your friends or your
country and no-one else will stand up to fight
them, you head into the battle. Beware though,
conviction tends to get you killed.

Mike, I'm a little confused; I didn't know saints could be cloned. Maybe I'm Joan of Arc, Jr. At any rate, there are lots of us--33% of people who took the quiz got the same result!



Which Saint Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Inspiration on fabric

T-shirt sentiments:

"PROCRASTINATE NOW"

"There's no sense in being pessimistic. It wouldn't work anyway."

Hi ho, hi ho . . .

It's my second day of work today. The students come in two days. Yesterday I only pressed snooze twice, I think. (That's a victory for me.) Today I must have accidentally turned off my alarm in my asleepawake state. I got up at 6:19 instead of 5:30. Oops. Luckily, I had given myself a big time cushion; I didn't have to be here until 8:00 today.

So I rolled out of bed, turned on my phone, and called Monaca. We've developed a plan to call each other at 5:30 every morning to make sure we're awake. Good plan, in theory, but difficult in practice if both of you oversleep. A very sleepy Monaca answered on the third ring. I hope she didn't go back to sleep after I hung up. . . .

I'd better get my act together before Thursday--at that point I'll need to be at work at 7:00, so accidentally turning off my alarm would be catastrophic.

Tired. Happy. Throat is sore.

I had an awesome time at Six Flags with Monaca, Julie, Mike, and Emma. There were practically no lines for any of the rides; I think the longest we waited was 10 minutes or so. We went on every roller coaster except Iron Wolf (I'm glad we skipped that one). We screamed a lot (especially Monaca, who made it sound like she was dying a slow and painful death), and some of us made fools of ourselves (you know who you are). Emma was cute, of course. It wasn't really that hot, and the sky was gray for most of the day, but we still went to Hurricane Harbor. I enjoyed it quite a bit--it's impressive! I especially liked the wave pool, because when I was treading water out in the deep part, I could almost imagine I was out beyond the shorebreak at Waimea Bay. Almost.

Wakey, wakey!

So, Monday is the only day this week that I've succeeded in getting up at 5:30. But rather than mope about my laziness, I'm reveling in my final days of sleepdom. AND I'm going to Six Flags Great America/Hurricane Harbor tomorrow. Now THAT'S an awesome way to end the summer.

I take that back. I'm a failure.

I lost the battle against my comfy bed this morning. Didn't get to work until 12:30. Sigh. I'm working on it.

I'm a lunatic.

Okay, I know this is crazy, but I'm at work this week--even though I don't have to be here until next Monday. I know what you're all thinking:

"Wendy, you're such an overachiever. I idolize you."

or maybe it's more like:

"You twisted perfectionist."

Actually, it's probably:

"Woman, get a life."

At any rate, here's my explanation: I have always had a hard time getting up on time. My bed is just so comfortable, especially when Steve and Jackson are there too. And sleep is so wonderful. I usually press snooze at least four times before getting up, which means I end up with about fifteen minutes to shower and get out the door. Well, this year, school starts at 7:30 (I know, it's inhumane), which means I have to be there at 7:00. I didn't want the transition to be quite as shocking, so I decided to start my school schedule this week--so I can get acclimated. So I'm up at 5:30, out the door at 6:30, and in my classroom by 7:00.

Hopefully I won't spend hours every day at school this week. However, it's difficult for me to stop working on something once I've started it. I've been here for five hours today. I've got to leave. My hours of freedom are rapidly dwindling.

Quote

Funny/disturbing Holiday Inn sign:

"Call us for your next affair to remember."

I don't think they thought that out very well.

Countries Monaca and I Visited This Summer

create your personalized map of europe

mardi, le 2 aout 2005

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN LONDON AND CHICAGO
16:00 (London time)

Didn't do much in London yesterday; didn't have time. Sat in Kensington Park for a while, watching kids playing soccer and commenting on the people going by. Monaca and I have started making up life stories for everyone we see. It's quite amusing--to us, at least. Probably wouldn't be to the people if they knew.

Went to a pub last night. Laughed at some people and were creeped out by others. Spoke French with the flirty, French, full-of-himself bartender. (Like the alliteration?)

Sad to be going home. Can't wait to see Steve, Jackson, and my friends, though.

It's been an extraordinary experience.

lundi, le 1 aout 2005

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN DUBLIN AND LONDON
14:22

On an airplane now, headed to London. This will be our last day and night before flying back to Chicago. Very bittersweet--I miss Steve and Jackson terribly, but there's so much left to absorb in Europe. Oh well; I guess I'll just have to come back soon!

dimanche, le 31 juillet 2005

DUBLIN, IRELAND
23:30

Got to Dublin at 13:30, leaving us with a measly 24 hours, when what we'd planned for was 72. Took a bus to the city, passing hordes of jersey-clad people on their way to a hurling match (a traditional Irish sport--also a boon for the country's doctors, as it's very rough). Then walked to our hotel, checked in with the genial proprietor, and headed off to explore the city.

We walked through the grounds of Trinity College. The grass is beautiful, primarily because there are numerous signs saying to stay off it. Unfortunate.

Walked down cobblestoned pedestrian Grafton Street--touristy and expensive, but picturesque.

Went to St. Stephen's Green and sat for a while, talking and people watching.

Walked through Temple Bar--anticlimactic but okay.

Walked down the River Liffey toward the ocean, but Monaca wanted to look for a gift for her grandma, so we turned back before we saw it. :(

Went to an awesome pub, complete with low, heavy-beamed ceiling; brick archways; dim lighting; trad (live traditional Irish music); and a thoroughly Irish crowd. Definitely one of the most memorable experiences of the trip for me. Impossible to put into words.

Looked for mead for Monaca to bring home, but apparently the traditional Irish "drink of kings" isn't very well-known in Ireland.

Pub-hopped over to Grafton Street again, searching unsuccessfully for pub grub. (Apparently the "authentic" Irish pubs in the U.S. aren't; food is not normally served at most pubs.) Finally, in desperation, went to an Italian restaurant on Dame Street. Walked back to our hotel in the rain.

Loved every minute of the day.

samedi, le 30 juillet 2005

BEAUVAIS, FRANCE
20:30

Still in Beauvais, waiting out the day and another night until we go back to the airport and see if we can make it on a flight.

It’s boring and ugly here. We went to Auchan (a nearby supermarket) to get food for the day. I got stung by a wasp while we were sitting outside in plastic lawn furniture, eating our breakfast. I took a long midday nap. We’ve spent most of the day sleeping, eating, writing, and reading. I’m just ready to be done with this. It’s so discouraging.

Went out for drinks and fromage blanc at a nearby restaurant this evening. I had kir for the first time in seven and a half years. Yum.

Then came back to the hotel; pet the resident dog, Vox (owned by the hotel owner); talked to Eva, a little Irish girl who’s stuck here with her family; and played football (soccer) with Monaca and Vox. Experiences like these make our situation bearable.

SOS

Here's an e-mail Steve sent out, at my request, to friends and family, informing them of our situation:

Wendy and Monaca need some prayer. They have encountered the first speed bump in a fantastic trip they have had so far. They are currently stuck in France, when they should be in Ireland! Their airline cancelled their flight to Ireland from Paris yesterday, which left them stuck there. To make matters worse, the airport is not actually in Paris, but instead in a yucky industrial area with bad hotels and nothing to do. Wendy called me from a bad hotel that smelled like smoke and paint. Needless to say they were most excited to see the British Isles and will only be there for a couple of days, rather than the 5 days originally planned. To make matters worse, the airline was not willing to pay for any inconvienience they caused their passengers. Apparently, this is normal for European "customer service," or lack thereof. Currently, they are on a waiting list for the next flight to Dublin (tomorrow morning) which will leave them with about 3 hours of light in Ireland rather than 3 days. That is not the only issue, as if they don't make this flight they would be in danger of missing their flight to London and, therefore, their flight back to Chicago. You might ask, "Why didn't they just fly to London?" Good question, however the airline was not willing to give them a credit for their flight from Dublin to London, so that didn't work out.The bottom line is that they need prayer that they will be patient and find the joy in the unfortunate situation they find themselves in, as well as get their way home safely. Thanks for your prayer and I will try to keep everyone posted as to how things are going.
Thanks,
Stephen

samedi, le 30 juillet 2005

BEAUVAIS, FRANCE
2:40 A.M.

So like I said, yesterday the day got worse as it progressed. After a long wait for the bus to bring us the hour to Beauvais airport, it became apparent that our flight to Dublin was delayed. Then they made an announcement that the flight was cancelled. Now get this: RyanAir said we'd probably not be able to get another flight for FIVE DAYS. We're supposed to be back in Chicago in less than five days, and before that, we have to take a RyanAir flight from Dublin to London in order to catch our flight back to the U.S. RyanAir does not rebook you on the next available flight on any possible airline, as carriers in the U.S. do. They do not even make an effort to rebook you on a RyanAir flight. They do not give you money for food or lodging. They do not pay for transportation between your hotel and the airport, which is in Bhufu. Our only options were:

1) reimbursement for the Paris-to-Dublin flight, or
2) wait-listing for a flight in two days.

The former option has definite drawbacks. RyanAir would, in that case, not provide us with a flight to London or refund our tickets from the RyanAir flight we'd miss from Dublin to London. (Don't ask me how this is legal.) We'd also have to rebook on another airline (astronomical prices at such late notice) or take the train to Calais and then a ferry to England. Don't know how much either of those would cost.

For now, we've taken option #2. Here are the downsides: We're stuck in Beauvais, because we couldn't afford another bus trip out here from Paris in two days (you've got it--RyanAir won't pay). We're staying at a factory-esque hotel that we have to pay for. We'll have to pay for a taxi back to the airport from wherever it is we are. We aren't even guaranteed a flight on Sunday; we're wait-listed. Oh, by the way, we couldn't stay in the airport, because they closed it at 1:00 A.M. Again, I have no idea how (or if) this is legal. It's outrageous. I never thought I'd say this, but here goes: This would never happen in the U.S. You'd better believe the airline would be paying for ASAP rebookings, hotel rooms, and food.

I'm so disappointed that we're going to miss most (or all) of our scheduled time in Ireland; that's the place both of us were looking forward to most. I'm praying we'll have no more travel snafus, or else we very well may miss our flight back to Chicago.

I never imagined, when booking our flights, that we were playing the lottery. I didn't think airplane travel was supposed to be a big gamble; I figured that paying the airline for a ticket meant that they would ensure you would reach your destination somehow. I mean, if you want repeat customers, you need to provide good service--and care in the case of unexpected circumstances. Even though RyanAir is very inexpensive, I will never fly with them again. Making sure I get somewhere is too important.

One good thing has come of this: We've gotten to spend a lot of time with Irish people, and I can now say they may be my favorite people on earth. All night, there has been such a feeling of community and caring. They still joke and try to stay upbeat. Even though their situations may be even worse than yours (like the husband and wife who were supposed to pick up their daughter at summer camp in rural Ireland tomorrow), they still have sympathy for you. It's inspiring.

At one point, Monaca broke out her football (soccer ball) and we kicked it around in a circle with a group of Irish children--such a great memory.

vendredi, le 29 juillet 2005

PARIS, FRANCE
16:00

Yesterday, after visiting Notre Dame and Ile de la Cite, we went to l'Arc de Triomphe, then the Tour Eiffel. There, Monaca and I had some much-needed (though frustrating) time apart, due to a disagreement we resolved fairly quickly.

It had been raining on and off all day, which Monaca loved--she hadn't seen real rain literally in months. We ascended the Tour Eiffel (all the way to the top), just as another storm blew in, whipping rain sideways as we left the warmth and shelter of the lower observation deck for the balcony. Couldn't see much, and couldn't take panoramic shots of the Paris sprawl, but it was memorable.

After the Tour Eiffel, we went to a Let's Go-recommended creperie, La Crepe en L'Isle. The crepes, galettes, and wine were amazing and affordable. So much so, in fact, that we went there again for lunch today.

Monaca and I went back to see the Tour Eiffel last night. It was breathtaking, its beauty unaffected by the hordes of men selling kitsch (e.g., Eiffel Tower keychains, Eiffel Tower lighters, Eiffel Tower figurines, acrylic Eiffel Tower figurines that flashed different colors, flashing Eiffel Tower lighters . . .).

We ate a snack of olives and beer--two items that seem to have become staples of our diet. Going back toward our hotel, I got mixed up about which metro line we were on (long story), so we ended up getting off the metro, switching directions, getting off after another couple stops, then finally realizing the error and switching directions again. Quite the adventure; we laughed through it.

Today, we checked out and left our bags at the hotel. After a delicious breakfast of croissants and pain au chocolat, we headed for Sacre Coeur, where we marveled at the facade, with live harp music wafting over us from the observation deck overlooking Paris. Inside, we got to observe mass--quite amazing.

Moulin Rouge was our next stop; we only came out of the metro long enough to take a couple pictures of the rather unimpressive venue.

After lunch, we went to the Jardins de Luxembourg, where we sat for a couple hours, reading and watching little kids sail boats around in the fountain. I thought a lot about Dad--the time he spent in the Jardins as a kid.

The day got worse from there, but you'll hear more about that in my next entry. By the way, I'll be on a youth-group camping trip for the next three days, so my next entry will be on Monday.

Funny memory:
-sitting in a creperie in Paris, lip-synching to "I Will Always Love You," by Whitney Houston

jeudi, le 28 juillet 2005

PARIS, FRANCE
14:09

Now we know why RyanAir is so cheap! We flew into Paris Beauvais, which isn't even in Let's Go, and which seems to be used exclusively by cheapo airlines. A bus ticket into Paris cost 13E per person one way.

Our bus driver took more than an hour to get us to Porte Maillot (in Paris), partly because of a roadblock, but largely because Beauvais isn't anywhere near Paris. After three metro rides, we arrived at St. Georges, the stop for our hotel (Perfect Hotel). We didn't have the best map, but after asking a grocery-story stocker for directions, we finally arrived at the hotel. It was 12:30 at night.

As is our custom, we were drenched in sweat and parched with thirst. We got drinks from the vending machine (by the way, they sell beer in vending machines in Europe), took showers, and went to bed.

So far today we've been in Notre Dame and done the circuit of Ile de la Cite. Now we're sitting at a cafe by Pont Neuf, drinking beverages apparently worth their weight in gold (4E for 7Up, 4E for beer).

mercredi, le 27 juillet 2005

VENEZIA, ROMA
17:20

Saw something interesting today. Monaca and I came out of our hotel (which is in an alley) to see a lady and man standing there. Before we really knew what was going on, the lady squatted down. We were still a little confused, until the lady started peeing. THE LADY WAS SQUATTING TO PEE IN THE ALLEYWAY. How gross is that? We didn't really know what to do--should we go back inside? walk the other way? just keep walking toward them, acting like nothing weird was going on? We wordlessly decided on the last option, since that was the direction we needed to go. The guy with the lady was so embarrassed. I don't blame him. But maybe she just really had to go. I now know what that's like.

This afternoon, Monaca and I picked up our bags from Hotel Mignon (they let us leave them there all day!) and headed for the vaporetto stop at the Ponte Rialto. When we got to the bus depot at Piazza le Roma, we had about an hour and a half to wait till our bus came. We got some water (half a liter for Monaca, a liter and a half for me), which we quickly finished; then we stretched out on the grass in the shade. When it was time to board the bus, I started to feel the as-yet feeble complaint of a filling bladder. (A liter and a half of water--DUH.) As the bus ride approached the half-hour mark, my need was getting dire. I went searching for a restroom and found it on the first floor of the bus, but it was out of service! I was starting to be in pain. I seriously considered pleading with the driver to stop so I could find somewhere to pee. I eventually told Monaca to stop talking to me, because I needed to concentrate on not wetting myself. The pain intensified, and I started wondering if I would make it. No sitting position alleviated my pain. Monaca jokingly offered me an empty cracker jar, but it started seeming like a feasible option. The way I saw it, there were three possibilities:

1) I would wet my pants,
2) I would pee in the jar, or
3) my bladder would explode.
You know it's bad when your best option involves humiliating yourself in a very public manner.

We pulled into the airport just in time. I was the first person off that bus (I may have exited before it came to a complete stop), and I walked, hunched over, into the terminal, searching for a sign directing me to the toilets. I truly believe I got there just in time. If our bus ride had been five minutes longer, I would have used the jar.

mardi, le 26 juillet 2005

VENEZIA, ITALIA
18:00

In Venice now. Stayed in Rome's Ciampino airport last night, as we had a very early flight. After the short flight and an hourlong bus ride from Treviso airport into Venice, we took a vaporetto (public-transportation boat) to the Ponte Rialto. We headed off in search of our chosen hostel, which is run by the largest Protestant church in Venice. Had trouble finding the place through the winding streets and alleys, and Monaca's back was hurting her, so it wasn't the most enjoyable walk.

When we finally got there, the guy at reception informed us that they only had one bed left. We were so tired and desperate. We looked at each other and nodded. "Can we share the bed?" we asked. He told us we couldn't. Downtrodden, we sat on a bridge outside their courtyard and stared into space for a while. Our second-choice hostel was literally across the city (and across the Grand Canal). So we looked at our trusty Let's Go guide again. (Side note: I HIGHLY recommend Let's Go guides to anyone wanting to travel anywhere.) We found a hotel that was slightly closer than our second-choice place, so we set off again; again, we got lost.

When we finally got there, we were sweaty, tired, in pain, and almost out of hope. I think we were both picturing us huddled in a doorway that night. The receptionist told us they didn't have room, but he got on the phone and spoke in rapid Italian for a few seconds.

Here's a probable transcript of the conversation:
Receptionist: "Hey, Giuseppe."
Giuseppe: "What's going on, Paolo?"
R: "I've got two crazy American girls here who look like they've just been regurgitated by an angry whale. I don't want them staying in my hotel, but I know you're a pretty nice guy. Would you be willing to take them off my hands?"
G: "You say they're American?"
R: "Yes, and they look horrible."
G: (sigh) "Well, I'd rather not; it's not great for business. But I don't want their blood on my hands. Send them over."
R: "Thanks, man. You're a peach."

The receptionist told us he had found us a room. We were so grateful, even though we assumed the other hotel would be in Bhufu and would cost us several hundred euros. Must to our surprise, the receptionist told us to walk to the end of the street, turn left, and we'd see the sign for Hotel Mignon. We couldn't thank him enough. And I'm sure he couldn't thank God enough that we were out of his hotel.

"Giuseppe" at Hotel Mignon responded to my feeble "Parla inglese?" with a smile and asked us if we were the two people sent over from the other hotel. When I nodded, he said, "Well, the best I can do is 60 euros total." That was WAY cheaper than we were expecting. We heartily agreed, and he showed us to our room.

Unless you've traveled the way we have, I don't know if you can understand the depth of gratitude you feel for human kindness or the appreciation you have for the most commonplace amenities. Our room had two twin beds, bedside lamps, a mirror, a FULL BATHROOM all to ourselves, and AIR CONDITIONING. We practically wept with thanks.

I did laundry (Hallelujah!) in the sink while Monaca took a shower and a BATH (!), and then we switched. After a few minutes spent staring at our blessed air-conditioning unit (which we could control!), a nap, and a snack, we were quite refreshed.

Venice is amazing as usual. Impossible not to get lost, but it's Venice--that's part of the experience.

Monaca and I have decided that we should have had someone shoot a reality TV show about our trip. It would have been absolutely hilarious--definitely entertaining. We didn't know how funny and weird we were going to end up being on this trip. Our show would have been the most popular one on Thursday-night television. :)

lundi, le 25 juillet 2005

ROMA, ITALIA
00:39

Funny memories:

-me taking a picture in the Vatican Museum and a guard stepping in the shot because he wanted to be in the picture

-free Red Bull during the hottest part of the day

-a guard sleeping on duty in the Vatican Museum

-pretending to have French (me) and southern-white-trash-black (Monaca) accents

-Monaca touching gum on a railing in the Vatican Museum

-Monaca putting a bag down on gum covered with ants, finding gum on a bench, and stepping in gum--all within a five-minute span

-the guy who sold Monaca shot glasses in a souvenir shop (he was hilarious)

-the French guy working at the hostel, whom Monaca insisted had a crush on me. "He was enthralled in your French conversation. I'm kind of jealous. I wish I knew French."

-the French guy cracking up while telling us the story about the guitar player with a "muppet" in Belfast. "I really have some stiff competition."

-another story from the French guy: buying a beer in Rome and having the shopkeeper ask for 3E50, thinking he was a tourist. "You've got to be joking."

-watching a couple get engaged at Trevi Fountain (the girl didn't seem excited)

dimanche, le 24 juillet 2005

ROMA, ITALIA
21:20

Today has been . . . interesting. The saga began with us "sleeping" in the Geneve airport last night. We took shifts, which meant that Monaca slept about two hours, and I slept about one. Wendy not happy when Wendy no sleepie.

Our flight arrived in Rome at 8:00 A.M., and we stood in a long line for police border check. We finally got through and got on a bus from Ciampino airport to Anangina. From there we took metro line A to Ottaviano, the stop for our hostel (Pensione Ottaviano). Now, keep in mind that we hadn't bathed in quite some time and had hardly slept. It was sweltering hot as we walked, searching for the hostel.

When we finally found it, we were thoroughly hot and thoroughly tired. We checked in, hoping for a double, only to find ourselves assigned to a six-person dorm room (praying that the other four people were female). Then the people who checked us in told us we had to leave until 2:30 P.M., a good five hours later. Needless to say, we were disappointed; we had wanted to sleep.

So we got lemon gelato and headed to Piazza San Pietro, where we people-watched for a while, trying to avoid eye contact with the leering polizia who kept circling on their Lamborghini golf cart. Then we went souvenir hunting for a while, as Monaca's family expects souvenirs. After this, Monaca mentioned that she had to use the bathroom, so we set off in search of a potty and a grocery store. After much wandering, we found the latter. Our relief, however, was short lived, as the store seemed to carry only food that needed to be cooked. So we gathered what we could and headed off again, Monaca still attesting to a full bladder and an aching back.

Rome seems short on grassy, shady areas--and on public restrooms. I finally made Monaca prioritize: Which was a more immediate need--a bathroom, or a place to sit? She chose the latter. We finally found a scrubby patch of brittle grass in patchy shade, next to the Castel Sant'Angelo. We settled down to a . . . peculiar lunch of lettuce (no dressing), a plastic-wrapped slab of Fontina cheese, olives, and raw gnocchi. Mmmmm. We had three unopened, warm bottles of beer, which we realized (too late) didn't have twist-off caps. They remain unopened.

At last, 2:30 rolled around. By now, both of us had just about run out of patience for one another and for our situation. We set off in the direction of our hostel, only to realize, to our dismay (and after much walking), that Castel Sant'Angelo and its grounds are a very effective fortress--there's only one exit. We finally found our way out . . . only to find ourselves thoroughly lost.

At this point, I was exhausted, as hot as I've probably ever been, and filthy. I was not a happy camper. I was sick of being the one trying to navigate us around the picturesque (read confusing) and winding roads of Rome. Comments like "Aren't we supposed to go this way?" and "Do you want me to look at the map?" were not well received by me. At one point, I threw up my hands and dropped my head, moaning, "I give up!" I just wanted to sit down and morph into another statue to add to Rome's already burgeoning collection.

At long last, we found our way and I, no longer harboring a shred of decorum or vanity, drenched my sweat-soaked head in a drinking fountain. When we arrived at the hostel, I couldn't undress and get in a cold shower quickly enough. I felt so much better. After a four-hour nap, during which I think I went into a coma, Monaca and I were ready to be civil with each another once more.

samedi, le 23 juillet 2005

LA ROCHE SUR FORON, FRANCE
12:05

On the way from Geneve to Annecy (in France) for a day trip. We leave tomorrow for Rome.

vendredi, le 22 juillet 2005

GENEVE, SUISSE
20:49

Monaca and I are currently sitting in the Jardin Anglais, where the Rhone flows out of Lac Leman. They have music festivals here every evening throughout the summer. They have all these tents serving drinks, kebabs, etc. The music is almost exclusively American. So far we've heard "At the Hop," "Twist and Shout," "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," "Money for Nothing" . . . It's pretty funny. We're sitting on the grass with our 250-ml. cans of Heineken (cheaper than soda), listening to the music and the splashing of a fountain, watching traffic go by and the sun slowly descending. Heavenly.

Funny Quotes, Europe 2005

Monaca and I made a point of writing down funny quotes we heard or said over the course of our trip. They may or may not be funny (or even comprehensible) to others, but perhaps you'll enjoy some of them.

Wendy: "rigamarole"

Wendy: "heebie-jeebies"

Monaca: "kosher"

Wendy: "It made me funny." ("It made me laugh.")

Monaca & Wendy: "I'm sitting on a cow couch." (sung to the tune of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas")

"Look--a cow!" (Drunk American girl, echoed by Swiss guy)

"Maybe you should just stand by the cow." (Drunk American girl)

Monaca: "He's British."
Wendy: "How do you know?"
Monaca: "Look at his shorts. Only a Brit would wear shorts like that."
Wendy: "And with those shoes and socks."
Monaca: "Exactly. Take a picture."

Wendy: "Look at those rollerblades."
Monaca: "Take a picture."

Wendy: "Look at that girl's mohawk."
Monaca: "Take a picture."

Wendy: "Look at that guy's shirt."
Monaca: "Take a picture."

Monaca: "Can I take a picture?"

Wendy: "Look at that cow."
Monaca: "Take a picture."
Wendy: "Okay. Act like you're milking it."

Wendy: "I dare you to pick John Calvin's nose."

Monaca: "Why don't you move up a seat? Lots of people are getting on at this stop."

Monaca: "If I were going to commit suicide, I wouldn't do anything boring. I'd throw myself in [the jet d'eau] or something.

Monaca: "That looks like snow."
Wendy: "Mmm-hmm."
Monaca: "Take a picture. We can say we hiked through snow."

Wendy: "I don't really speak Italian."
Monaca: "Well, I don't speak at all."

Wendy: "Is this water drinkable?"
Monaca: "I'm drinking it."

Wendy: "Look--this is a bathroom. I just thought it was a random door."
Monaca: "Yeah, well, I tried to open that door."

Wendy: "I'm tired, I'm hot, and I'm irritable."

"There's always a good reason to fight in England." (Irish guy)

"You want to play now?" (Vatican guard, motioning to Monaca's football [soccer ball])

"Non toccare. Do not touch. Do not touch." (Vatican guard)

Monaca: "This reminds me of when I was younger, and my grandma used to make gnocchi and I would eat them raw."
Wendy (30 seconds later): "These taste kinda like dirt."
Monaca: "I don't know; I've never had dirt before."
Wendy: "Well, neither have I, but it probably tastes like this."
Monaca: "Well, I like them."

"That's different." (British man running through the wind & rain at the top of the Eiffel Tower)

Monaca: "It's pretty hard to annoy me."
Wendy: "I think I've succeeded."
Monaca: "When you've been trying?"

Wendy: "I feel like I just won at the world's biggest slot machine." (watching the Eiffel Tower start sparkling at night)

Monaca: "Probably only the rich people come here at night. You know--the people who drink martinis and . . . eat real meals."

Monaca: "I was trying to think of something that real people do." (she meant rich people)

"Do you want another Celebration, or do you just want a picture of them?" (12-year-old Irish boy)

"You've probably seen other members of my group. You know, suspicious-looking characters--probably terrorists." (kind old Irish man on a pilgrimage)

"That's very sensible of you." (kind old Irish man)

Irish man: "Did you stay long in Paris?"
Wendy: "No. Just a couple of days."
Irish man: "That's very sensible of you. It's a horrible place."

"It's a bank holiday in Ireland this weekend, so lots of places will be closed on Monday. But don't worry--the pubs'll be open." (different old Irish man)

Wendy: "Ca va si nos bagages sont dans l'autre bus?"
Bus-depot guy: (long silence; he's staring at me sternly)
Wendy: "J'espere?"
Bus-depot guy: "Il faut esperer--esperer que l'autre bus ne tombe pas en panne; qu'il ne se bascule pas; qu'il ne s'explose pas. Si non, c'est cool." (smiles)

TRANSLATION:
Wendy: "Is it okay if our bags are on the other bus?"
Bus-depot guy: (long silence; he's staring at me sternly)
Wendy: "I hope?"
Bus-depot guy: "You'd better hope--hope that the other bus doesn't break down; that it doesn't tip over; that it doesn't explode. Otherwise, it's cool." (smiles)

"I wish they had a cat museum." (Eva, a little Irish girl, commenting on how Paris could be improved)

"I'm beginning to hate this country a bit." (Eva, commenting on being stuck in France after our flight to Ireland was canceled)

Monaca: "You're an ostrich; your brain is smaller than your head."

"I like the accent. Savage." (Irish guy, commenting on Monaca's American accent)

Monaca: "Those aren't statues? I thought they were statues." (commenting on street performers)

Monaca: "I have a nose for bacon."

Wendy: "That's the second time we've ignored a door that turns out to contain a shower."

Monaca: "That's okay; these pants are used to being wet."

Monaca: "I just dropped a pound." (referring to the UK's monetary unit)

10 Ways to End a Friendship while Backpacking in Europe

10. Snap at your friend about travel issues that are completely out of her control.
9. If your friend is a cat lover, repeatedly tell her how much you hate cats and wish they all would die.
8. Do things that will keep your friend awake at night (e.g., snore, snuggle with her).
7. Answer a simple question with a snide remark (e.g., "Is this water drinkable?" "I'm drinking it.")
6. Call your friend hypocritical and insensitive in the same conversation.
5. Leave the France guidebook in Italy, before getting on a plane for Paris. (This is the only item on the list that didn't actually happen.)
4. Keep talking to your friend even after she tells you to shut up because she needs to concentrate on not peeing her pants.
3. When lost, ask highly annoying questions, such as: "Are you sure we're going the right way?" and "Do you want me to look at the map?"
2. Tell your friend a meal tastes like dirt right after she says it reminds her of food her grandma used to make.
1. Tell your friend that what she just did should go on this list.