Artsy Fartsy November and December

Well, here it is, Christmas break, and I haven't updated since before Halloween. I need to get better about this thing... especially since I can't really remember what happened to me if I don't write it down.

October held one more surprise for me. Halloween morning, the weather seemed befitting of the day--it rained heavily the night before, and there was some serious flooding on the day. I heard it all over the news and had the fleeting thought that, I should turn on my phone, but didn't do it at that that exact moment and therefore forgot. I drove through a small lake on South Miami Avenue, fearing I would stall out, and got to work only to discover that not a single other car was in the parking lot. I feared the zombie apocalypse had finally come, and walked to my room to discover that there was a puddle in the middle of the room and the power flickering on and off. My neighbor was there and let me use his printer, but by this time I figured I'd better turn on my phone and find out what the heck was going on.

There were three texts on my phone and one voice mail, all trying to relay the message that school was, indeed, cancelled. Greeeeaaaat. So, lucky me, I had a very special Halloween day off like a Halloween miracle.

Sometime in the past few months (I can't remember where, exactly, this fit in) some of my other female coworkers and I went to a place called Painting with a Twist. This is an art studio where you get a personal paining class and you can bring wine and food while you paint. You walk away with a painting that you did yourself.

It sounds a little intimidating, sure. I have very little artistic talent, at least in the visual arts, and I really did not think I could paint a picture that would look like anything not painted by Jackson Pollack. But I did! Here's the before...

And, after some wine, some snackies, and only a little bit of stress, here's the after! (Note the bottle of wine in the pic, lol!)

Not only was painting fun, but it was a beautiful metaphor for life. Every time I got freaked out that I'd messed it up irrevocably, a teacher would come over and tell me just to let it dry a little and paint over it. You can't make a mistake because it's art, and if it's "wrong" or you don't like it, after a little bit of time you can just fix it. That's deep. I can't wait to go back and paint something else!

Even though it's a terrible picture, here we are together, my paining and I. I even wore my "art teacher" smock/shirt-thingy so I could get into the spirit.

The painting is currently hanging in my bathroom.

November brought the birthdays of two very special people. My Mema, who turned 86, and Sister Fanny, who turned 80. Sister Fanny is just one of those people that makes me happy. She has been a Salesian Sister longer than I've been alive and she still is so happy every day. She makes copies at school and runs a little after-school store, but more than that she tells jokes and just makes everyone happy.

There was a "surprise" party for her at the convent in Naples, and some of us went over to help her celebrate. There were even mixed CDs to rock out to on the drive. We ate (and ate...) and toured Sister Pat's new school, which is lovely, and played F-A-N-N-Y, which is similar to Bingo (okay... it IS Bingo but with different letters). Here's the birthday girl, who made out like a bandit!

November and December were artsy months for me. It was Art Basel time again, and a girl from work got us into an Absolute Vodka party for an Art Basel event. It was sort of a fun girls' night out and I felt super classy and artsy. The evening ended in some falafel from a food truck, which is a win on several levels.

The next weekend was an Art Walk, a free event I've written about here before. It's a night when the art galleries in the Wynwood district downtown open their doors for people to wander through. Some, I'm sure, actually buy art, while poor teachers like me and my friends simply walk around, take pictures, observe humanity, and feel classy. There are food trucks too, which is sort of a budding culture here in Miami; a budding culture I fully support.

The exhibitions are always interesting, at the very least. This was sort of a camouflage deer event happening and I found this little guy and this little corner to be very appealing.

This was a wall near the deer that I just thought was amazing to look at. I couldn't stop staring.

There's all kinds of art at Art Walk including plants. This one trapped The Aussie!

Art Walks are one of the free, great, cultural events in Miami. It's always a good time, especially when you go with the right people.

The official beginning of the holiday season for me was an early viewing of Love Actually and The Polar Express. I somehow seemed to get a little Christmas spirit early this year--normally I don't get it until I'm back in Michigan, if then. Also, the Weavers had an ugly sweater party in early December, which helped to foster some Christmas joy.

My sweater was borrowed and HIDEOUS. It had about 15 tiny bells on the front, which rang every time I moved, creating this high-pitched whine that nearly drove me crazy. Some of the other sweaters were equally terrible, including the winning one which was a lovely depiction of a tiger.

The part inspired me to take some awkward family photos, with the hosts. I'm thinking Christmas card next year?

Last year at work we began a tradition of having a Christmas party at the convent. It was a great way for the faculty and staff to come together outside of school and just relax and be. Last year, I really enjoyed myself and this year I did too. First of all, I discovered that the convent has a nice little backyard area, which they used to barbecue. I had no idea that existed last year! I didn't make it past the craft room. lol

I had lovely conversations while I ate with several people that I don't really talk to much at work--not for any reason in particular, just because we're not really in the same cirlces. It was nice to get to know them a little better, which is one of the reason why this party is so nice. It helped me get into the holiday spirit, even though it was pretty warm outside.

So now I'm back in Michigan for both Christmas AND New Years. This will be my first NYE in Michigan in a while, and I'm going to a friend's wedding so it should be a good time. So far, my time here has been spent relaxing and knitting (and knitting and knitting...) and watching movies with my mom. It was even sort of warm when I got off the plane, so maybe I brought a little of Miami with me. You're welcome, Mitten. :)

Much love.

The official birthday breakdown

You only turn 30 once. And, sadly, some people don't make it that far. So I figured since my 30th was this year, I'd better go all out. I'd gone back and forth on ideas for a party for a while. I wanted a prom, but then I thought a quince would be fun, and funny since I never had one, and then it somehow just developed into an 80's prom, which, it turns out, is the BEST birthday party idea EVER.

Some wonderful friends allowed me to use their house for the party, so I went over earlier in the day to set it up. We had a dance floor, food area, picture area, and even a gift table, just like a real prom. The theme was Vogue, like the magazine, and the invitation was a Vogue cover I made of myself, Vogue-ing like Madonna, with all the details. NOT gonna lie--it was awesome.

I also made covers for several of the guests, to use for decorations. We posted them all around and they were great conversation pieces (plus, I'm now a master user of PhotoShop, which is good for, y'know, a journalism teacher), not to mention witty and hilarious. ;)

Then came the photo area, set up like a Vogue cover, where the Prom Committe and I (complete with buttons) took the first photos of the night.

The colors, if you hadn't guessed, were silver, black, and teal. I dressed to match. The table for favors looked a little something like this, with the favors being slap bracelets. Totally 80's.

The dance floor was awesome--we just set up a projector to project crazy colors and crap on the ceiling, and some sweet 80s jams were rockin' all night. "Don't Stop Believin'" was a huge hit, along with "I Had the Time of my Life" and a little "Lady in Red." Classics, my friends. Classics.

No prom would be complete without a crowning of the King and Queen, so of course people voted on winners. I, to my chagrin, won Queen and my friend Matt won King, mostly, I think, because of his awesome hair. Here I am, celebrating my win...

Here are Matt and I doing our King and Queen dance, complete with Dirty Dancing-style moves...

And this is our official King and Queen photo.

The whole party was just so fun. People went all out in dressing up and we were just dancing and talking and taking random pictures all night. I highly recommend it!

Now, of course, it was a prom and proms don't really have cake, but this was a BIRTHDAY prom, and you can't have a birthday without cake, homemade carrot cake with cream cheese frosting! My favorite!

Themed parties are key to life, and this one was no exception. It was exactly how I wanted to bring in my 30's--smiling, laughing, and dancing until I hurt. Thanks to everyone who came to help me celebrate, even the randoms. It was awesome.

My actual birthday was on the following Wednesday, when I had class at FIU. I didn't really celebrate much on the actual day, but I did make birthday brownies for my class (even though I had to sort of ghetto rig them) and I called it good. Poor college kids are grateful, so that was happy.

The next weekend was Labor Day weekend, and I hadn't been home since, I think, Christmas, so I went home to see my family and pick up Lancelot, who was in Michigan at his "summer home" while I was in Italy.

I got in later than I was supposed to, but my Coot came and picked me up faithfully and the next morning, bright and early, we headed to the season opener for U of M when they played Western. It was a bit too hot to tailgate, although we gave it a solid try, and the game ended up getting rained out, but it was still great to spend time with my Coot and see some college football at the Big House.

The Big House has been redone since I was there several years ago for an exhibition GVSU game. Now it has lights (!!) and a new press box area.

It also now has big, clear, beautiful scoreboards, with closed captioning that can provide some funny commentray (if you read it) during times of boredom.

And, while I don't care much about football, I DO love tailgating and marching bands!

The game started slowly with Western scoring early, but U of M showed them who was boss at the Big House before too long. At one point, though, during the second quarter, it started pouring. I mean, seriously pouring--we all got soaked! Here I am with my seat buddies, after the downpour...
We still look cute, it's true. Eventually, the game restarted and I saw an awesome half-time show that was based on MTV. It was, however, slightly depressing because I'm sure most of the members of the band weren't even alive when the songs they were playing came out. Tra. Gic. Eventually, the rain started up again, this time with thunder and lightning, and they had to evacuate the whole place.

Coot dropped me off at a Panera, where my parents met me with Bubba and we all went on our merry way.

I spent the rest of the weekend bonding with my family and Bubba. I was so glad to see all of them, especially Bubba and my sister, whom I hadn't seen since Christmas. My family took me out to Mitchell's for a birthday dinner (scallops, YUM) and we snapped a quick picture.



All in all, I got to bring in my 30s with some of my favorite humans, both in Michigan and here in Florida. I can't really ask for much more. To even have had 30 years is a gift; someone in my graduating class passed away last year and that is a total mind cruncher. I am so happy about where my life is at this point that I don't even feel stress about "the big three oh." I'm just happy to have been where I have been, seen what I've seen, and experienced all I've experienced.

The week after my birthday celebrations, Frank Warren, founder and creator of PostSecret, a Sunday morning tradition as faithful and sometimes moving, as church, was speaking at the University of Miami and then, a day later, at Lynn University. The Weave got a friend and me a ticket, and we went to see him speak. Here's Frank, on stage at Lynn.

The event was moving and fascinating, and it just made me so happy. The best thing Frank said, and something I will probably always remember, is that, in Hebrew, the word "secret" means, "come closer."

Really, I think, that's what PostSecret is about--by sharing a secret anonymously, you connect yourself to someone else who feels the same way, or has had the same experience, and you realize that, for all our differences, we are really more similar than different. The world really is a tiny place, and each human is just a part of this interconnected, beautiful, fragile network of others. A good lesson to begin a new decade.

So here's to my 30's. I'm embracing them with my arms open, ready for whatever shows up.

Much love.

Bienvenidos A Miami

Well, here I am, back in Miami and back to my "real" life. Leaving Boston, and family time in Michigan went by quickly, and now... life calls. I've been dealing with FIU stuff, which is annoying and lame, but whatever. I guess that's what I'll be dealing with for a while--a school that I'd LIKE to give my money to but which makes it difficult to do so.

My last day in Boston was spent in the boy's dorm, watching the boys trickle out one by one. It was sad to see them disperse, but all things must end, and they, too, had real lives to get back too. So they left, and we watched them go, and then... we were free. That afternoon, not wanting to sit in my room and contemplate the return of reality, I went shopping at Filene's Basement with a few co-workers. I discovered nothing exciting, except the most HIDEOUS "necklace" ever, which, at retail price, cost over $550. At the Basement, it was about $250. But price doesn't indicate beauty 'cause this thing is NOT okay!

Really? REALLY?! What IS that? Out of control! lol

After the Basement, we made plans as a staff to get takeout and eat it up on the 9th floor of Shelton so we could all really hang out and be together one last time. I got Thai food and split a bottle of wine, and it was a fun night. There was laughter, senior pictures, Flip Cup, Apples to Apples, inside star gazing, and Apples to Apples. Oh yeah, and we managed a group picture, too.

Aww! I'm going to miss everyone, and Boston in particular. Best of luck, friends. I'm sure the Freedom Festivities continued until the wee hours of the morning, but I did not participate in them because I had a huge day the next day. Not only was I heading back to Michigan, I was going to meet my brother.

This part is hard to say because it's still so surreal sometimes. All my life, until this past September, I thought I was my mom's oldest, but I'm not. It turns out, I have a brother named Steve who lives in Texas with his wife, my sister-in-law, and their new son, J.P., my nephew. It took a while for this news to sink in, absorb, roll around, and take hold in my mind. I still sometimes can't believe it. But it's undeniable that he belongs to us, and we to him. I can't explain what it's like to meet someone for the first time, and yet know that they just... belong. He belongs with us, but we barely know each other. There's so much of each other that we've missed, but so much also for us to look forward to. Finding out about him has been horrible and wonderful, strange and natural, awkward and comfortable, and a whole plethora of oxymoronic emotions that I can't really describe accurately. They don't tell you how to do this in the guidebook--you kind of just have to figure it out, this new definition of "sibling" and "family" and even "love." I'm at the point now where I see him as an amazing gift; I mean, think about it like this: ever since I was a little girl, I wanted a big brother with hot friends who could beat up every boy who was mean to me or didn't like me or just looked at me the wrong way. Now, he may have missed out on some of the beatings so many guys in my past deserved, and the friends are yet to be determined as hot (not holding out hope 'cause he's a bit older than me), but I got the big brother I wished for. That's pretty crazy.

I know Steve didn't want to meet at the airport for the first time, but my flight was delayed for a little over an hour due to a missing co-pilot and then a mechanical issue that caused us to have to switch planes. This meant a lost hour, so we ended up meeting for the first time, at Gerald R. Ford International Airport which sounds awful, but was actually kind of perfect. You see, I've always loved airports--they're great places to both say hello and goodbye to someone, both of which Steve and I did. I love to travel and so does he, although I never thought that trait came from our mother. He even works at an airport himself. So while it may not have been the greatest of places to meet a long-lost relative, it was what it was, and it was totally appropriate.

After our union (because you can't very well have a REunion with someone you just met), and meeting his wife Raquel and my nephew, we piled back into the Suburban, like so many family vacations, and headed to see Lake Michigan, where any first time visitor to Michigan should spend at least some time. I hadn't seen it in ages and I'm so glad I got to see it again. It's such a beautiful body of water, and the perfect back drop for our first sibling photo.

We enjoyed our day on the west side, the weather was beautiful, and, well, my family grew. Here we all are at dinner.

The next day, we went to see my grandmother (they had all gone two days before, when I was still in Boston) and go to Frankenmuth. I haven't been to Frankenmuth in years, probably since I was fifteen or so, and it was much like I remembered it, although without the hologram store and doll house store, which were always favorites of my sister and I.

We went to go to Bronner's, a HUGE Christmas store (and a real CHRISTmas store, not just Santas and reindeer), and to go to the Michigan Military Muesum, where my grandfather has a display. He's not there all the time, as many brave military men and women have donated to the museum, but Stan, the guy who runs it, made sure Grumpa's stuff was there so Steve could see him. It's still sad that they never got to meet; they would have liked each other. Anyway, here's his exhibit.

He was a handsome bugger, he was. And my grandmother, due to my mother's prompting, got herself another handsome bugger, although he's a four-legged one. My mom found Mema a cute little dog, much cuter in person that in pictures, and he and Lancelot, while not exactly best friends, at least tolerate each other. They even pose for family pictures!

We had lunch at Zhender's, which is famous for their chicken. So famous, in fact, that they have a giant evil mascot chicken that I spent the meal trying to avoid. Thank God it only came to the table while I was in the bathroom, and I only had to wait about an extra half a minute for it to be completely out of my way. All this, mind you, after the waitress promised to keep him away. Lies.

The following day was spent chillin' at my parents' newly decorated house because Steve, Raquel, and J.P. didn't return to Texas until that evening. I finally got a chance to give J.P. the sweater I'd spent time knitting in Boston. It fit (wahoo!) and was the first time I've actually SEEN something I've made on an actual baby. Although he lives in Texas, I'm sure he'll get some use out of it. :)

Meeting Steve and family was, and may always remain, an experience I can not accurately articulate but I do know that my heart and my family have grown to include him and his, and I look forward to building our relationship and sharing our lives.

The rest of my time in Michigan was spent hanging out with my parents, although I did get to have Beaner's, go shopping, get my eyes dilated, and see Abita. My parents and I (and Lancelot, too!) had a lovely weekend in Traverse City as well. We went to a couple of wineries, walked around downtown a bit, went on a few little walks, got our feet nice and muddy. It was fun. Here are my dad and I near the lighthouse in TC. The ground was SUPER muddy and squishy, but we just figured it was basically a free spa treatment.

Lancelot also got a good wander near another beach and I managed to get the ADORABLE picture of him. It might be my new favorite!

Some day, Bubba, some day...

I really love that area of Michigan. It's really beautiful, which I forget every time. I mean, look at this view from one of the wineries:

Out of control--and people don't even realize it! When I think of Michigan, my home, THIS is what I think of, not the third world wasteland of Detroit that most people know. This blue sky and green for miles.

Much love.

Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

Even though the book ends with the song of despair, I don't want to end on that note so I suppose I'll start with my "song of despair," if you'll allow me.

Friday, June 18th, my favorite person on earth departed the earth. My grandfather, "Grumpa" as I called him, had a stroke about 3 1/2 years ago and has slowly been deteriorating ever since. It is one of the greatest sources of sadness in my life that I didn't get to see him one last time before he had the stroke (I was in Korea when it happened), but I do take some solace in the fact that every time I visited him after the stroke he knew who I was, even if he didn't know anyone else. He and I understood each other and, well, he might have been the love of my life. I know he's up in heaven now picking out a husband for me and sending him my way, but that's little consolation for not having him around anymore. I know that my sadness comes from a selfish place--I'm sad that he won't be a part of my life anymore--but at the same time, he will always be with me so I should be happy. I always carried him with me before, even when he was here. I suppose I need to just continue to do that.

I know I'll see him again, which is also comforting, but it's hard when I think about not having him around for Christmas or a weekend visit. Anyway, you can read about my "brave, loyal, and stubborn" hero here.

Grumpa died on a Friday, the day before I was supposed to leave to come to Boston to work for the summer. I called the guy who hired me right away, although maybe I should have waited because I was crying on the phone and I'm sure it was difficult to understand me. He said I could deal with whatever I needed to deal with, and come when I could. I ended up arriving Wednesday around noon after having missed two and a half days of training.

So, this will be my home for the next five weeks, and now begins the twenty love songs.

Shelton Hall on the Charles River Campus of Boston University. It used to be a Sheraton Hotel, apparently, and, according to Wikipedia: "In 1953, playwright Eugene O'Neill died in suite 401 (now the RA's room--417) on the fourth floor. In his honor, the fourth floor was named a specialty housing area called the Writer's Corridor. School folklore holds that the building is haunted by the playwright. Apparently, lights on this floor are dimmer and the elevators would randomly stop at the fourth floor." I haven't been up there as of yet (I'm staying on the second floor) but I will go explore this situation soon.

Everyone I'll be working with seems fun. I was introduced to a big group of them on Wednesday at lunch, when they were playing a crazy game called Quelf. It was certainly an interesting first impression! But everyone has been helpful in helping me catch up on what I missed and we had a staff dinner last night at an Italian place, which was nice. The food was good (I had Pasta Mary Ellen without the shrimp and extra scallops, YUM!) as was the company. Showing up late, although necessary, was a bit awkward but I'm feeling more and more comfortable with everyone as time passes so that's good. I mean, walking to an Italian restaurant in the rain without an umbrella is certainly a bonding experience, I can tell you.

I haven't had much chance to explore the city until today, when I didn't have to be anywhere until 4:00 pm. So I got up, had breakfast, and set out to walk to Boston Common, which, it turns out, is a pretty hefty feat to undertake. I just walked down Commonwealth Street, from number, like, 800 down to, like, 11. The walk was pretty fantastic, though, because a) the doorways here are amazing. So much so that I took pictures of many of them and want to do a photo project with them at some point. And b) between the two sides of the street is a park/median, with benches, trees, grass, and random statues. It's awesome.

Anyway, before you get to Boston Common, you reach the public gardens, which are beautiful. There are several fountains, tons of flowers and trees, and a river with swan boats!


At the entrance there was a giant statue of who I thought was Paul Revere. Turns out, it was actually George Washington...

He was surrounded by lovely flora, namely these hibiscus. :)

There were a few street musicians in the gardens, and the gardens covered quite a large area. I'll have to go back some afternoon for a relaxing spot to read and be in the sun.

Just beyond the gardens is Boston Common, which, come to find out, has like a gazillion dead bodies under it or something. Maybe that's why it smells like yeasty, stale beer. Eewww. To be honest, I wasn't that impressed by it... it was pretty much a vast field of grass with a statue and a carousel. I did find a lovely spot to relax and read, though.

And of course I took a picture of the carousel...

And then I found a band shell, and took a cool photo of the cityscape from inside it.

Meanwhile, we're all ready for the kiddos to show up. I've got my door decorations done, and they're super cute for someone as unartistic as I am. I mean, they have glitter so that's really all that's needed.

The boys are arriving today. Most of them are here on scholarship, so they move in early and then help the girls move their stuff in tomorrow. It's a good gig for the girls, I guess.

Anyway, it's getting exciting here now that kids have begun to show up. It's gonna be a fun summer!

Much love.

Epic Travel Tales

Well, here is is, lovely May with it's flowers. I've been up to some shenanigans since Ireland and it's time to share those shenanigans with you all.

We had parent-teacher conferences the week we returned from spring break, and, as always, they were depressing. I didn't see many parents, certainly not as many as the first session, and usually the "good" kids' parents are the ones that show. PLUS I spend 13 hours at school, which is about as depressing as life can get. BUT, we get the next day off, so I can deal.

Also that week, a friend from high school came down because his family owns a condo in Lake Worth. He, Annie, and I all met up in Boca for dinner and a little reunion. I haven't seen Antwon in a long time, so long I don't remember HOW long, and it was great to catch up. We had dinner at a Mexican place in Boca, and then went back to Annie's place to play a little Apples to Apples. It was a fun night.


The next night I was double booked--The Aussie's "Calle Ocho" party and Adam's birthday. I went to Calle Ocho first, in my finest chonga regalia. For those of you unfamiliar with the term "chonga" or the lifestyle one lives, check out this brilliant explanation. So anyway, here's me as a chonga, complete with black lip liner and faux tramp stamp with my initial. Hoop earrings are also key to the look...And yes, that is my thong underwear hanging out. It's a look, people!

Since I work with The Aussie, several of our friends are co-workers, who also all dressed up. Here we are... Now keep in mind that we teach children.

We. Teach. Children. After a couple of hours of being chongalicious, I walked to Crazy Pianos where Adam was celebrating his 25th birthday... again. It was a fun night, although tiring. Two parties in one night is a little intense. But still...

The following weekend, I took Friday off (it was a half-day anyway) and hopped on a plane (at 7 a.m., BOO) to Detroit for a weekend in Michigan.

I arrived without incident and Bob came to pick me up. We were gonna meet up with my mom, who called us about 10 minutes later and told us to meet her at the Bob Evans by the airport, which it took Bob and I about 25 minutes to get back to. Basically, the combination of Bob and I is a nightmare directionally. We finally got there and had a couple of drinks (Coke and iced tea, lol) and the waiter gave me some biscuits because he saw in my eyes the love I had for them. It was kind of a beautiful thing. It turned out to be the best thing because once we left it took about two hours to get to my grandparents' house when it should have taken an hour. Yay traffic for no reason.

We finally got there and I surprised Mema (she didn't know I was even in town) and spent most of the time at the feet of my favorite person on earth, my Grumpa. I used to think it was just me being wishful, but he really is better when I'm around. He even managed to say "I love you" to me, which is pretty amazing. A couple hours will never be enough time, but it was better than not seeing them at all, so I'm grateful for it.

The next day, I went to see Abita while my parents went to get some stuff for the house (they're redoing it). She was hilarious! I haven't seen her that "there" in ages, and we talked for, like, an hour. I completely understood her (she was even speaking in mostly English) and we had a great talk. She was telling me she wanted wine, and asked me how she could learn English, and told me I should get married. She was singing some songs in Spanish, too, which was kind of funny but awesome. Her voice is sort of bird-like now, so it was pretty funny.

I spent the afternoon with Liz and got to see her place, which is totally cute. We got ready and headed to Dusty's English Inn for our parent's party around 5:45. I didn't know most of the people there well (they're my parents' church friends) but they were happy to see that I actually DO exist and I'm not some phantom daughter they made up to tell stories about. lol. We had a lovely dinner and some drinks, and watched the Derby in the bar downstairs with some ladies and their huge hats.

Speaking of the pub downstairs, on my search for it (and a bathroom) I discovered a Harry Potter room--a cupboard under the stairs. It was so awesome!

After cocktails and dinner, we took a family photo in our Sunday finest, and then headed to sit outside and chat, I guess. We're some pretty good lookin' folks, if I do say so myself.

After a while of hanging out outside, Liz, her friend Jamie, and I headed back home to change and we went out for a little bit. We went to a place called Morty's (I think) and I met a guy who was 6'2" that I was in love with for about an hour SOLELY because he was 6'2". Short Miami boys are messing with my head... I MISS TALL BOYS!!!!!

Anyway, it was a fun night and it was cool to meet some of my sister's friends and hang out with her, 'cause we don't get to do that much.

The following day, Sunday, was the day I had to fly home. And it was an epic journey.

It all began when my sister took me to the airport, after an extremely necessary stop at Beaner's (I will never call that place "Bigby." That's lame and dumb.). I got there around 11:15 and had a flight at 1, so it was all good...until I checked in at the self-service kiosk and it said my flight was at 5. Um... no bueno. So I proceeded to the ticket counter where a lovely woman in formed me that my connecting flight to Chicago was canceled, so I now had to go through New York and would arrive in Miami at 11:40 pm, to which I replied, "No. No. That is not happening." And I was thinking, If I don't get back until 11:4o tonight, I will kill someone tomorrow, and it will probably be a student, and that will be bad for everyone. Then I heard two guys behind me who were also supposed to go to Chicago on the same flight, and I started talking to them. The lady at the counter asked me to get them up there as well, and while she was booking us another flight, one guy leans over and says under his breath, "Hey, do you watch 16 and Pregnant?"

"Yeah," I responded, more surprised that he knew the show than embarrassed to admit to watching it myself.

Then he says, "Remember the couple who gave their kid up for adoption in the first season?"

"Yeah..."

"The girl's mom's right behind you."

I turned around and lo and behold, there she was. "Celebrity" sitings at DTW. The excitement.

By this time the ticket agent, who was super nice, had booked me on a 12:30 flight to Cincinatti with a connecting flight to Miami at 3. The new flight was on another airline in another terminal... and it was already 11:45. Luckily, the guys I'd just met had a ride waiting outside the terminal, and, since we all had to go to Delta, I hitched a ride with them and proceeded to security.

I head to the security line, which wasn't too bad (a fact my paranoid traveling self was ecstatic about), and as I'm about to step through the metal detector, I see a resident of mine from Copeland when I was an M.A. there. Crazy! I haven't seen him (other than on Facebook) in about six years! We had a quick catch up, as much as you can in a security line, and my insulin pump alarmed, of course, and we all moved on.

The flight to Cincinatti was uneventful, but that airport was hilarious. The airport's not acutally in Ohio, you see--it's in Kentucky. I was in Kentucky the day after the Derby. You can imagine what I saw. The airport was filled with ladies with giant hats, and with giant hat boxes, and people who looked completely hung over and sort of like death. It was entertaining, at least. Took my mind off of the fact that I was, theoretically, in Ohio.

I found my terminal and waited for the flight, which was supposed to leave at 3. Around ten minutes to, a woman came on the speaker, to announce what I assumed was boarding. This is what she said instead, "Ladies and gentlemen, the plane that was supposed to take you to Miami has been struck by lightning and there's a crack in it. We have to cancel the flight." At this point, everyone starts to freak out, I'm about ready to cry, people have to catch connecting flights ... It was madness. American Airlines, though--problem solvers! They ended up canceling a flight to Chicago (running theme?) and using that plane for our flight. We took off at 4:45.

But, ladies and gentlemen, this epic tale is not over. I literally sat in the first seat on the plane. I could see the pilot and co-pilot and the jump seat for the flight attendant was about three or four feet from my own seat. And this dude was a trip. I swear to you--he was Slingblade. He kept telling stories and going "umm humm" like Billy Bob Thorton. And he LOOOOOVED to tell stories too. At least the ride home wasn't boring!

After all that, I made it back safe and sound to Miami and the chance to see my family was such a blessing. I can't wait to see them again soon. :)

Much love.

There's Nothing Like Home for the Holidays...

I made it back to Michigan without incident. I was glued to the weather reports pretty much the whole time I was in Orlando and the day after, but the weather was fine so I got in on time. My sister was supposed to pick me up, which she eventually did, after several frantic calls to her, my mother, my father, and Mema. FINALLY I got a hold of her, and her and D-Wrek were there with Lancelot, who, of course, didn't give a rip about me.

So... Noche Buena, a.k.a. Christmas Eve, a.k.a. my Dad's birthday, was fairly normal. Well, as anything that involves my family can be "normal." There was one major difference, though, which was that my home church didn't have the 11 o'clock candle lit service so my parents went to my dad's church for mass at midnight and I just couldn't bring myself to go. Good decision, too, since they got home UBER late. Well, later than I wanted to be up anyway.

This year, we had a slight shift of the traditions, which I tried to deal with. We all know change is painful for me. lol. Liz and D came over around 4 and we did the gift thing then. I must've been a very good girl because Santa brought me everything I asked for and then some. Oh, and I took this lovely picture of Lancelot in his leather jacket... which he HATED.

I am a bad person. :) After that, we all headed to Abita's house (my abuela) for the Garcia Family Christmas. It was great to see everyone--aunts, uncles, and cousins, and the night was punctuated with random picture mails from Tanya, who was celebrating Noche Buena in true, outrageous, Cuban style. It was truly entertaining. Our night was fairly traditional--good eats including a dead pig, Marta praying for the animals, and a few gifts exchanged. I'm not sure if Abita knew who I was, but she seemed happy to see me, so that was a blessing.

Christmas day (which was 45 and rainy, by the way... NOT amused!) we headed to the Creek to see Mema and Grumpa and that crew. My Christmas was made when Grumpa knew who I was. It's always a gamble with him whether or not he's going to be on the ball that day, but he's usually pretty good when there are a lot of people around. He was just waking up when we got there, and I walked over to his bed and said hi and Merry Christmas. I reached under the covers to grab his hand, and he squeezed my hand so tight that I knew he recalled who I was. It was all I really wanted for Christmas anyway. We even managed a bit of conversation, and, before we left, he managed to say "Merry Christmas" and "I love you" to me. :D Between that and the dang cheesy casserole of joy we have every year, it was a great day.

Unfortunately, for reasons I will explain soon, I have very few pictures from Christmas. You see, the day after, the 26th, I organized a gathering at Rum Runner's, my favorite East Lansing bar. It's become somewhat of a tradition to hit it up at least once over Christmas break. So I hit it up, and a few of the faithful joined me--the weather was pretty bad, and it snowed. (Christmas? Rain. Day after when I want to play? Snow of death!) So I had the camera (which, by the way, I was borrowing from my mom) on the table, got up to use the restroom, and when I came back it was gone. Someone MUST have stolen it, although they also must've been pretty desperate because there were people sitting at the table THE WHOLE TIME and there were tons of other expensive electronics on the table as well. While it sucks to have lost the camera, I'm more upset about having lost the pictures. Who DOES that? Seriously.

I did manage to steal a pic from the night off Facebook, though, so here's me and a former resident of mine (waaay back in the Grand Valley days!), Christina. I love seeing her over Christmas. I hope it's becoming a tradition...

The only other events worth mentioning is what took place when I headed to the east side, the day before I flew out. Bob came to pick me up and drove me to Ypsi. It was amazing to see him, and we had a great catch up talk in the car. In Ypsi, I met up with Coot, Timmy, Trash and Gary. It was kind of a surprise, one that I welcomed happily. We had dinner at Champions (like Benny Hana) and then went to the nori bong. Yes, a Korean-style sing-room straight outta Seoul. Bob didn't make it past dinner because he had to meet with another friend, but he missed an amazing time. We sang until our hearts were content, and Gary documented. I don't know where the pictures actually ARE, but I'll try to track some down. It was a great night, and a perfect way to end my stay in Michigan.

I came back to Miami for New Years this year just to... see. I ended up having a fun, if not somewhat awkward, night. But when you're dealing with my life, there's always gotta be some awkward, I suppose. I went to Crazy Pianos with the Rent-A-Husband and crew (he even had friends saying with him for the Orange Bowl game so it was me and a herd of boys) and a co-worker of mine and HER friend (who was in town from Philly) met us there.

There was a British guy at the table next to us who was OUT of control and hilarious, and a former co-worker was there as well, so it was great to see her. I just danced and sang and rang in the new year as it should be done: smiling and celebrating in a new pair of underwear.

Here I am, with Adam and Kim.

What? I like noise makers!
And awkward head gear...

I'd post more pictures but my bra is showing in most of them. NOT classy--I was having issues with it all night. Whatever, I'm over it.

My holiday break was lovely and long, and my first day back to work I was greeted with this:

That was taken in the parking lot at school. It kinda makes being at work by 7 am worth it.

Oh, if you'd like to see the rest of my Disney pics, click here for the album.

Happy 2010 everyone.

Much love.