Things you should know

The Bachelorette can't get over him

2011-06-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

Therese is actually have a life this week so here is my feeble attempt to fill her noble heels.

We open in Los Angeles where Ashley decides there is just no getting over Bentley, she still misses and thinks about him. So it's time for a fresh start. Back in the mansion where no one is in the pool shirtless, Chris shows up to explain the facts; three dates, two are one on one and one group date. He explains the risks and rewards again for the first time viewers. BUT! BUT! There will be no date today. Ashley has to put thousands of miles between Los Angeles and herself and Bentley so they are going to the ~~land of Tsunamis~~ Phuket! In two hours guys, get packing! (Chris snaps the whip and the guys break into chest bumps. Thailand! Woo hoo!)

Ashley is already there walking on the beach realizing she can't run (or fly) from her problems. She imagines Bentley there walking next to her on the sand. She goes to some kind of activity booking center looking for date ideas. "I'm here with 12 guys and they're HOT!" (and one just in her mind.) She's never been to Thailand. (I think she's only been outside the states because of this show.) Wombat took all the other good countries, but left this one for the third runner up.

First date is with Constantine, whom we know nothing about.
Constantine! One of my favorite Keanu Reeves movies. Come to think of it, this is dating purgatory. Constantine looks like that wine guy (Ben) but has a bigger nose. I hope she wasn't thinking it was the wine guy and it turned out to be the restaurant owner. They're set to go out on a boat ("sea Phuket") get it? sea? get it? haha ...
But alas there's a major storm and the captain assures them that they will fall out of the boat, so they go walk around town and try on hats and scarves, every guy's dream date. They pick some old random dude to talk to who doesn't speak English and get advice, and some random westernized local to translate. "Don't try to win." Great advice for a reality competition.

Constantine acknowledges that Bentley's leaving must have been hard. He asks her how she says positive about this?

Have strength... be honest... stay positive... C'mon you were expecting something deeper? Not, "I crawled in bed with my clothes on and cried for hours til there was nothing left to cry about." Ashley was upset the boat trip was canceled because it would have gotten her mind off of... guess who.

Their date was so blasé it seems like they only spent 2 minutes on the whole thing, airtime. Constantine is happy and doesn't mind the boat trip was cancelled. Constantine is able to separate the event excitement from relational excitement! He enjoys just doing normal stuff. There's two normal dates in a row. At least for this one she wasn't in pajamas.

Guys are thinking Constantine is going to put the moves on Ashley. Who has kissed Ashley? "Everyone's going after the same piece of fruit! Gotta be patient." (JP is bothered by this news.) "This isn't normal for me!" Um, dude, you're on a reality show, and you expected normal?

Back to the date... relationship history... he's had fears! afraid of getting hurt and getting deep. Realized has to be more open and love deeper. Is this the first go round... he rolls eyes... no she's probably #15 this year, but he's not about to let that truth come out.

Hopeless Ashley (her words, not mine) is hopeful again. Yay! Let's play in the water. Yay! I wish you were Bentley, but you're not. Yay!

Ashley says her mind is more open now but she's still thinking about Bentley because she says she's not going to think about him.

Next date is a group date to help orphan victims from the 2004 Tsunami. I digress but I created a Tsunami Museum with a proffessor at Western that raised all kinds of money to help victims rebuild. For my thanks, I'm getting laid off. Not til November but still. Anyone need a graphic and web designer with a quarter century of experience?

With Bentley out they need to find another guy to pick on ... now it's Ryan. He's micromanaging everything. Needs to back off. Winemaker decides to paint and makes a mural to separate himself from the herd. He can't paint, but it's a cute idea and the kids don't seem to care.

Why does Ashley keep putting her hands together and bowing slightly? Are they in Japan? I have been to Thailand and China but I didn't see that. Is that protocol?

It's still raining. It hasn't stopped since they landed. You'd think they were in the Pacific Northwest. In July.

Ben F. played soccer with the kids. I missed that! Wish they'd showed it. Ben seems surprised that Ashley hints she likes him.
Ashley is getting back on the horse. And she goes in for the kiss! I think he will get the rose.

Guys are irritated with Ryan because he has leadership qualities and they are jealous.
Ashley asks Ryan about Personalities. He thinks he's getting along well with the guys.
Ryan feels for Ashley and thinks she is beautiful, but it's about what is inside.
Big rose on table. Guys don't want Ryan to get rose again. But there is heavy speculation. Some will wonder what they are doing there if Ryan gets the group date rose.

Oh God Ashley still talking about getting over Bentley. (Would you please drop it already? Pretty please?) She's worried about JP. He seemed standoffish. Probably from learning that she's kissed other guys. What about the orphan kids? she asks JP. Changed his life forever, put everything in perspective. Says the pajama party was the perfect date and he was still thinking about it. Goes in for the kiss! Hope no one in the house has oral herpes. Magical kisses, best ones buy far. JP is sexy. But he picks her up and takes her into the sea. He's making everyone else jealous!

Date card! Mystery envelope. Ames is hopeful. And it's Mr. 5-head!

Ashley is about to give away the rose and Ryan steals her away. Oh mr rulebreaker! Further getting on everyone's nerves. He just wants to have more conversations. Guys think he's rude.

She goes on about conversations. Ben the winemaker gets the group date rose! I was right! JP is having a hard time with this.

Finally! A pool party! They don't zoom in on any nipples. Damn them!

Ames as been to Phuket alone and it finally stops raining for their date. They get into a yacht and start sipping some cocktails. He came there before to climb mountains and do cooking school, went spontaneously and was the only non-Thai student. Last minute is the best minute. Ashley thinks he's spontaneous and grounded at the same time. They motor to those weird islands with the overhanging rocks and what, no bouldering? Perfect place to climb without a rope! Such disparity. Wombat would have had them jumping off the tops of one of those islands. Instead they're in a two-man ducky and go through some drippy caves. "Navigating these beautiful caves is like navigating a relationship. Around the corner you don't know what to expect but then there's something beautiful. " When do the cliches stop? "When you look up you can see the ~~filming copter~~ sky, I can't even talk to her because there's so much to look at."

Where did all that food come from? Now they're having a picnic on the beach.

Ashley is looking for devotion, #1. Ames is looking for open mindedness and spontaneity or for someone to understand it. OH NO she cannot get through even one date without mentioning Bentley! At least she didn't mention him to Ames, but in the voiceover. "I would have overlooked Ames if Bentley were still here."

How did that guy cast such a spell? Single guys out there, go and watch the first episode and second at hulu for some tips. Helps to be really good looking, too, or, something.

(This is a lot of work. Therese I have a whole new appreciation for your blog. But please don't ever have a life again.)

Oh God there she mentions Bentley again in the voiceover. Twice! I wish I were keeping a tally. I bet she's used his name 15 times by now.

Ames thinks she looks beautiful and is smart and really wants the rose. They talk about being a nerd and having nerdy things in their apartments. If you could change one thing about growing up what would it be? She's want to be less isolated and have kids in a more diverse area, expose her kids to more things than she was exposed to. Ames says something about both having been in interesting places, but he doesn't have a list, just a feeling. Major evolutionary step to throw out the list. (So yeah, don't have any standards, date me!) Ames accepts the rose, but doesn't kiss her!

Time for the rose ceremony. And it's only 9:25 pm. Are they going to drag this out for 30 minutes? Surprises around every corner. Okay they're have a cocktail party, so she pulls West aside. His wife died and she wants to make sure he's ready for a relationship. "Um... it takes awhile." But he assures her she is not going to be filling his ex's shoes. I'm guessing his ex didn't wear tube socks.

She pulls aside another guy I have no idea who he is, but he's divorced and dating all kinds of different people. Just likes having a good time. How do you keep the passion alive? He's the kind of guy who never gives up on anything... but wait, his marriage had no passion. So.

Some guys confront Ryan and he just doesn't get it. Ashley takes him aside. The guys want her to see the intense, annoying side. He seems to happy all the time. "I'm bursting with a lot of love in my chest." "This is the real me." So what, now Ryan is the villain? He's just a happy guy! Happy Happy Joy Joy! Full of energy and love for life! He never sleeps! He doesn't have a problem with any of the guys!

Okay, NOW time for the rose ceremony. But there's still 20 minutes left of this show. They're going to drag this out as long as inhumanely possible, I mean only half of this time segment will be commercials.

Chris comes in to consult with Ashley and it's raining again. She had a much better week, favorite group date so far. A week ago Chris has to remind her and everyone about Bentley. Has she put it past her? No she's still hung up and wonders "what could have been." Feels like there is something more there... dot dot dot no closure? thinks door is still open. Gads girl, get a freaking CLUE. She still thinks there was all this wonderful potential. That thinking girl, will make you insane. Everything has potential but almost nothing lives up. Oh now she wants to add a rose to the ceremony. That will make it an extra bummer for that one guy who doesn't get the rose. I mean, not getting a rose is one thing, but being the ONLY ONE when there was supposed to be TWO... killer. I do not envy ~~West~~ (my guess) that guy.

Chris says Expect the unexpected. So she asked him for the favor of another rose. Which means, (for those who are math-challenged) only ONE of you will be leaving tonight. Gee, I could have sworn that meant three people were leaving. Huh.

First rose: Lucas (who?)
Second rose: Ryan
Third rose: JP
Fourth rose: Nick
Fifth rose: Mickey (who?)
Sixth rose: Blake
Seventh rose: William
Eighth rose: not the widower West

West walks out with his chin up and goes on about putting it all out there for the first time since his wife died. Had a great thing with is wife but at least he had it.

In the previews for next week's show, Bentley makes an appearance. Ugh. WTH?

Video Phones

2011-03-25T22:07:00.000-07:00

So there's this Trump endorsed company (ACN) that sells through network marketing. They have cell phones, voip, energy in some countries, and one quirky gadget that looks like a must have for every 80 year old who doesn't have a computer. To me that's really too small of a market to make any serious money off. It's a video phone, and the video phone has never caught on, and never will, for this reason: evolution.

Look at the evolution of the telephone. It was a single device that started out in the entry way of the home. No matter where you were in the home, you would have to relocate to its place in order to use it. And you couldn't wander far, for it did not have a long cord, you had to stay right at the phone to use it.

Next came phones that you could install in more than one room. You still had to stay near the plug in the wall, because the chords only stretched so far.

Then came the cordless phone! What an improvement! I could move 20 feet away from my phone before losing the signal. Or maybe even go outside! Around the same time as the cordless phone came the wireless phone (I may be off here in years, but it sounds about right), the one that only really important people had, such as doctors, lawyers and police chiefs. They could put that little phone in their man purse and look really important talking into it.

Eventually that little cell phone became ubiquitous, and like most technology I wait for it to work really really well before I adopt it. I finally got one in 2003 and eventually discontinued my home phone lines. (Although I still own my home phones. What to do with them?)

So the phone went from something anchored inside the house, to something you can take with you everywhere except maybe scuba diving. I also don't know how well they'd work on a space ship. Every time I fly I lose my signal. Oh, yeah I'm supposed to turn it off, huh? Well sometimes I remember to, sometimes I don't. But now, here's a new product that is, well, it's a phone! it's got a video screen! I'm guessing the other user has to have one as well in order for it to work.

This seems to be going backwards in evolution. With the video phone, you are back to being stuck inside the house in one location. You don't need a phone to have a video chat. All you need is a computer. And if you have a laptop, you can take it anywhere except the deep end of a pool and have your video chat on Skype or even Google. FOR FREE. Well, depending on your internet service... and the laptop isn't free but it can do so many more things!

The makers of this product didn't look at history. They didn't pay any attention to the evolution of the phone. Who wants another bulky piece of future electronic landfill to adorn their living room? Not me, and it's why I could never get behind a company that sells something this .. well.. un-evolved.

My take on Avatar

2010-11-07T21:16:00.000-08:00

It's NOT Stand-Up Paddling (SUP)

2010-07-26T15:33:00.000-07:00

Ever since the growing fad of SUP (Stand Up Paddling) has been gaining attention in the news and perhaps stimulating the economy with yet another water toy that will soon grow dust in people's garages, folks automatically seem to think THAT'S what I'm talking about when I say that I riverboard. I politely say, no, you lay down on it and run whitewater, like a kayak would. More like a bodyboard (or "boogieboard" if I can tell the person is 100% clueless). I don't know why people would associate the two. I have seen SUPs on the river, sweeping along, trying to catch standing waves on occasion, and sometimes even succeeding.

The first time I saw people doing this was in Half Moon Bay, CA. I honestly thought it was some kind of joke. But no, it's only gained in popularity. I suppose it can be good exercise. It seems it would best be given to flat water, but they have shown up at surf breaks. Well now I suppose the longboarders are getting a dose of their own medicine. These guys can sit outside even FURTHER than you and catch all the set waves.

At least there is finally a new sport that is even more annoying than bodyboarding. Surfers now have someone new to focus their hatred upon! That is if they haven't already converted.

But just to be clear: Stand Up Paddling is NOT riverboarding. You may take a Stand Up Paddle board on the river, but you are not riverboarding, you are still Stand Up Paddling. And please if you do, wear a helmet.

Day 6: Reventazon

2009-12-07T15:54:00.000-08:00

It didn't take too long to figure out how Josh was feeling in the morning. We could hear it from down the hallway. But he was determined to go with us, even if not riverboarding.

We found the road to the Florida section put-in. There was a raft exiting and a couple vans there. It would be a short, fast & furious three miles. The water was murky and brown and about 3 grand higher than when we'd run a longer section in January.

We geared up and launched into the muddy current. The river was pretty wide, and as I was trying to cut across to the main current, I ended up in a little unplanned surf that sent the others ahead of me. I was planning on leading Alicia and Peter since I'd done it before, however it didn't matter much because I didn't remember any of it. The water was higher by about 3000 cfs, and last January, by the time we got to this section, I was pretty spent.

I gave Alicia my GoPro so I could be in some footage rather than filming all the time. The first wave train might have been the biggest, but she wasn't anticipating it, so it went undocumented. We were told it was read and run, to stay off the walls. The walls weren't much of an issue; not sure if it was because of the high water but it was easy to stay away from them.

A couple rapids later the waves were big and there were rocks to either side, so the middle line looked good. After one particularly large wave I felt myself falling, and next thing I knew I was upside-down underwater hanging onto my board. I got recirculated and spit out, wrists sore from holding onto the hydrospeed. Ahead of me Peter was off his board, and I looked back to check on Alicia; she was hanging on by one arm. Breathless I headed to the side and took a breather.

This did get documented.

After a couple more turns in the river it was hard to see which way to go - looked like an island but it was hard to tell if the river went around both sides. We scouted and decided definitely left. The right appeared to go into a dead end, although the current was leading somewhat into it with a strong eddy in front of it. Peter cut it the closest to stay in the current; Alicia and I paddled like mad to stay river left.

Pretty soon we saw power lines and I knew we were near the end. A plastic container of Guaro awaited our intestines at the car. I saw Josh on the bank and a group of young people under the bridge with their bicycles. I had spied the take out and it looked impossibly shallow, so we stayed right of the bridge post. The kids were yelling something but I couldn't tell what. They may have been drunk. Or worse. We got out and walked across the rocks and shallow water, meanwhile the rowdies started throwing rocks at us.

I got in the car, fins, helmet, wetsuit and all, thinking maybe we'd go for another lap. We high tailed it as much as we could up the steep gravel road to the busier highway. Alicia didn't want to and Peter thought one good run was good for the day, so I cracked the Guaro. I wish I could have taken a picture of Alicia's face when she tasted it. It's a bit like vodka, just a tad sweeter. Peter and I finished off the bottle in the car for the windy drive back to the hostel.

We had dinner again at the fancy hotel. I mean, they had linen tablecloths! I had some kind of meat dish with onions, and flan for dessert. It was one of the best flans I've ever had. But the meat tasted a little old or something so I didn't finish it.

Peter and Josh were wearing their nonsensical tshirts. Something got messed up in translation and it read "Flaying Jet Departure" then a bunch of unintelligible words, like someone just hit the keyboard randomly.

We ended up at a bar that had 80s videos going with a DJ and smoke machine with laser lights. Kinda trippy. No one was dancing, but a few were smoking and once again I had to bail because of the second hand toxic waste.

The guys who were creating such a ruckus were again outside the hotel. Josh asked if they could not make so much noise tonight. It must have worked because it was a lot quieter, surprisingly, on a Friday night.

Day 5: Upper Upper

2009-12-06T16:39:00.000-08:00

Today we ran the upper upper Pacuare. Luis was our shuttle driver, and asked where Kevin and Alex were. Indeed. Work and school. Why do these have to interfere?

We were thinking of running the Reventazon, but I showed the video from the last trip to Peter C and he got a little on edge about the dirtiness of the water. So we went to where we knew the water would be clean.

The bridge to the higher put-in was being worked on, but there was just II-III stuff up there. The bridge would open in a little over an hour. Our group is a bit on the indecisive side. "What do you want to do?" "Oh, I don't really care, either way is fine with me." "Okay, well what do YOU want to do?" "I'm okay with any option..." This scenario has played itself out a few times on our trip, but this time Josh decided to flip a coin. Heads, we 'headed up the river' after the bridge reopened, and tails, we high-tailed it down the river. It was tails. I was kind of glad. It was pretty hot out, and aside from one little snack stand that was part of a house, there was nothing much to do there.

Unfortunately Alicia had mal de estómago and was too ill to riverboard. I hadn't even noticed that she had hopped down from the top bunk bed several times during the night.

Most of the river was read n' run class III. Clear water, visible rocks. There were a couple holes near the top Peter wanted to stop and surf. I wasn't able to get in them. One was just off the side of a pool with a little 2' waterfall pouring into it, and good eddy service. The other had beautiful banana trees and cliffs as a backdrop. White birds flew by. It really was a slice of paradise.

We came to the first class IV section and scouted to make sure it was clear of wood. It was a pretty decent boulder garden, reminding me just a little bit of Monster on the Cascade, without the mandatory boof drop up top. The right was runnable but very narrow; we all took the line down the middle, which did include a pretty much mandatory rock but not much of a drop. Josh ran it first while we watched, then I followed Peter. It was a fun rapid.

At the next rapid Josh and I stopped on some rocks in the middle to look, but Peter kept going. I made a mental imprint of his moves and bumped along the shallow entry. Reminded me of home! I ended up hitting the biggest hole in the meat of it. The helmet cam footage looks like it held me for a couple of seconds but I don't remember struggling. Probably because I was under water and just thought I was punching through slowly. The helmet camera is above eye level so it's a little deceptive.

I needed to stop and defog my GoPro so we pulled over to a rocky beach. Blue heron and white birds circled, an orange butterfly darted about our knees while brilliant blue ones fluttered across the river. On the next rapid I got hung up on a rock. The current was pushing to the right but there were tight rocks over there. I was standing, and managed to slowly scoot over using my hand and my hips, to get off the left side of it. Fet like it took forever.

We were told to take out at a bridge. No one told us what kind of bridge. It didn't feel like six miles yet. We came to what looked like a footbridge and some elementary school-aged kids were on it. Josh asked them where the town was, or if there were cars on the next bridge. They looked at us curiously but didn't say much. We decided to keep going.

We came to a blind corner with a lot of rocks, and couldn't see around it and weren't sure if we'd passed the takeout. There were piles of black dirt and rock that almost looked man made, like from a gravel pit, not very pretty, and that's where the vultures chose to perch. Like attracts like, sometimes it's true. Josh and Peter climbed to the top of the highest rockpile and tried to scout the rapid, but couldn't see around the bend.

There seemed to be a way up out of the river to the left, and we saw a power line, and decided to climb out. The next section was a class V gorge and we weren't sure if the previous bridge had been our takeout. Exiting the river was easy, but the climbing was difficult because the slope was muddy and steep. Josh threw me a line and I sent my riverboard up. First time I've ever needed a rope. I needed his hand towards the top when I was unable to gain a foothold anywhere for the last few feet. I tried jumping up, pushing up with my arms, but the life vest wasn't helping me get over the hump. Even that was a false summit and we continued to climb on a narrow, muddy, manure-laden trail where the farmer helped us over the barbed wire. It was a fairly short walk and Luis drove up just as we approached the real take out. Which had another footbridge. It was sturdy enough for a couple horses and their riders to go across, but I'm not sure I'd take a Percheron on it.

We walked down to the river and there was a nice waist-deep pool and an easy trail up the short cliff. No banditos or drunkards; it was pure country on the upper upper.

Didn't get lunch and was hungry at 4:30 after a shower. First we stopped at a produce stand that sold mostly grapes and apples. Josh got a half kilo of red grapes and ate all but maybe five of them. We went to a nice hotel and had appetizers. Huge trucks rumbled by using their j brakes. The restaurant yesterday played Christmas music loudly. There is no quiet in this town.

We'd been frequenting the local bakeries as well. It's kind of like Christmas; sometimes you don't know what you're going to get when you buy a pastry. I went for the smallish cookies; no surprises there. We also went to an ice cream store. Josh got a huge rum raisin cone. I put 100 colones in the toy motorcycle and went for a ride. Woot.

Afterwards we played pool in a smokey hall. I scratched on the 8 w/ Alicia while Peter played a local kid. The local could shoot, but Peter had better strategy. I left when the smoke got to be too much.

There are really loud people outside our room. Hookers, pimps, druggies all yelling at each other. I tried to sleep but even the Ambien didn't let me tune out the escalated shouting match around 1:30 am. This continued well after the police arrived until about 3 am. I have a method of using my mp3 player for white noise to help me sleep, but I'd used it a lot and forgot to bring the charging cable on this part of the trip. It was dead. At 3am the trucks began to arrive to unload their produce for the weekend farmer's market. We all began stirring between three and four hours later, but what I missed was that Josh had been up half the night losing his dinner.

I'm blaming it on the grapes.

Day 6

Day 4: Pacuare

2009-12-06T12:10:00.000-08:00

We couldn't get ahold of our usual shuttle driver Luis, but the hostel found us someone, and it turns out he is the president of the Costa Rica Whitewater Association. This was the guy Patricia -- who runs the hostel -- said thought we would surely die if we ran the Reventazon back in January. We never actually got confirmation on the veracity of that statement, but he was a really nice and knowledgeable man.

We pulled the gear out of the car at the put-in and I opened my bag to discover that my wetsuit was not in it. I had that horrible, sinking, guilty feeling, but only for a few moments, because Josh said he had brought extra wetsuit gear. I was very relieved. However, knowing how cold Josh gets it wasn't really going to be enough neoprene, but we'd make do. As long as I didn't get as cold as I was in the back seat of the Rover over the pass, I'd be fine.

There was a little extra pressure being the only one with functioning water and land cameras. I have been almost hesitant to bring my land camera because it has to be left in the vehicle with could be a target for thieves. I took the risk and brought it along. I'm now wishing I'd gone ahead and bought the water housing even though it costs about 2/3 the price of a new camera. But that way, I could take the camera with me instead of leaving it in the car. I could even shoot some higher end video from shore. Maybe next time.

The Pacuare was running in between the two levels we had previously ran it: level 0. First time was 20; second was -10. I'd forgotten some of the heavier rapids, such as the Upper and Lower Haucus.

The upper didn't give me any trouble, but the lower, I didn't fight hard enough to stay in the middle and got swept left, nearly making contact with the undercut wall on the left. The slide feature that had given us so much trouble at high water was almost a non-feature at this level; it was just a bit of a hole and we all punched through.

The take out on this river, 16 miles later, was a little dangerous because of brazen thieves. The rafts had gone on ahead of us so we had to stay close and walk quickly. I took my knife out of my bag (the vest mount is way too loose) though wasn't sure what good it would do since it's blunt tipped. We had to walk a little way down a dirt road and around a fence to the restaurant where the Rover and driver were waiting for us, and there were lots of people in the restaurant. We were safe. The bathroom even had showers; that cold water was refreshing after walking in a wetsuit.

Back in Turrialba we napped for a couple hours in the relative quiet of the afternoon, then spent the evening walking around and finding food. We ate at an empty restaurant (do people ever eat out in this town?). I had ceviche - a huge bowl full for about $4. Score! I also ordered chicken but wouldn't have, had I known how much fish I was getting. I gave half of it to Josh. Alicia ordered chicken but couldn't eat most of it. Something wasn't right with her ever since our fried egg breakfast from the soda across the street. She was getting seconds on flavor all day long. Peter C shared some awesome stories of hurling aboard and directional sprays. Having raced sailboats the world over, he's probably seen it all. For some reason, he kept mentioning green eggs and ham.

Day 5

Day 3 - Dec. 1

2009-12-06T06:16:00.000-08:00

Since El Chorro was presumably still too high to run with any degree of sanity, we opted for a beach day down at Dominical. It's a long rivermouth sandy beach backed by jungle and a few businesses, nothing too touristy.

I've been running up and down energy-wise every other day. Today was a down day, and when we parked I noticed that the surf was less than stellar, so I plunked down my towel under a palm tree and tried to nap. The tide was low, the wind was sideshore and the waves were inconsistent, not holding much shape. Most of the crew went for a swim but I decided to wait.

When the tide started to turn I got ready to bodyboard and realized I forgot my lycra pants. I just had a two-piece and long sleeve rashguard top. I slathered on the sunscreen and hoped the rest would stay covered.

Another hour later the surf actually started to improve, and Josh came out with the GoPro video camera. My face was feeling really hot. I'd tried to buy a surf hat in LA but everyone was sold out. My two piece was not doing a very good job of staying up and on, even under the rash guard. I got some new tan lines from this session. My face was beet red; so was everyone's. The best waves were only in the 3-4 foot range and offered about a 6 second ride. But it was still fun to be out in warm water.

We grabbed some lunch at Chapy's, a place that has delicious, fresh and natural wraps and smoothies. Only, their blender was broken, so we had pepe, or young coconuts instead. After lunch, instead of simply discarding the coconut shells, we played trash can hoops. They're heavy and hard to aim. Josh's mom got one in; I tried once and decided it was futile. We obstructed traffic and amused ourselves for about 20 minutes with this silly game, destroying most of the coconuts in the process.

A dip in the ionized pool (read: no chlorine or bromide) was refreshing afterwards. Even the dogs joined in the fun. We were all so sunburnt in spite of really high SPF.

We ate some casserole thanks to Josh's mom, and about 6:00 we started our commute over the mountains to Turrialba to go and run the rivers in the area. Ariel and Peter decided to stay behind, so it was just Alicia, Peter C, Josh and I. Josh had recently acquired an older Range Rover. As large as it is, we still had to strap one of the boards to the roof.

Radio had to suffice as I'd forgotten the cable to my mp3 player that will make it work with a cassette deck. It turns out that was not the only thing I forgot. They are really into their 70s and 80s music here. Up at about 11,000 feet all the windows were down and the sunroof was open. Peter's board was dripping on me and the air was in the 40s. I had one small sweatshirt and a knit hat; luckily the floorboards were hot so my feet stayed warm, at least on the bottoms. As much as I whined about being cold, no one believed how cold I was til they saw me with my knit hat and hoodie pulled up over it. I found out later that the engine blows hot air into the front seats; it's no wonder they couldn't figure out why I was so frozen since I was in the back.

We ended up in the same room we had last year. They had nicer bedding; batik-style covers instead of those quilted polyester things. They also had internet and breakfast. And three dogs that would mess up the floor just as fast as the help cleaned it.

Day 4

Day 2: Coto Brus

2009-12-01T05:57:00.000-08:00

We drove south and over the mountains to a more arid climate. Very hilly, those hills covered in jungle. Reminded me a bit of the hills in Australia. Much less humidity than the coast. Luckily the river was going pretty good.

This time we took one of Josh's neighbors, 15-year old Jodi. He was a trooper. There was hesitation from both Peters about running a river that had caiman in it, but we never saw any. We thumped on the Prijons just the same to let them know we were coming. We did see some spider monkeys. They seemed to not quite know what to make of us.

The water was even warmer than yesterday; probably 70 degrees. I've been leaving the top part of my wetsuit off, leaving my sleeves dangling. It's just the right temp that way, with a rash guard up top. This river stepped it up a notch as there was on class IV-ish section. Still nothing heavier than the Nooksak, so far. Although I did manage to get stuck in a couple holes and turned upside down once.

We stopped at a tree overhanging the river. Jodi dived from it, Josh did a flip, Alicia a cannon ball, Peter C. jumped in with his board and hit is foot on a rock. I was happy to take pictures.

We were on the river for three hours. After a stop at a restaurant for snacks and another stop at the car rental to inquire about the two new windshield dings acquired during the shuttle, it was too late to stop and watch the sunset but we got some nice glimpses from the car. By the time we got home I felt like crashing but dragged myself out to dinner. Felt better after a watermelon smoothie, and had some chicken soup, which is supposed to cure a lot of things.

Day 3

Costa Rica, Take II

2009-11-30T05:13:00.000-08:00

About 5:30 this morning the throaty, piggish voice of the howler monkey broke the otherwise quiet morning sounds of insects and light rain. Fortunately they were far off, and the sound was interesting enough that I opted against earplugs and tookit in. Better than the barking dog that had also disturbed the night's peace. Five of us have been sleeping outside, but it doesn't make a lot of difference, noise-wise.

I arrived in Costa Rica on the 28th of November mid day, after a full overnight flight from Los Angeles to Atlanta then another full flight to San Jose. Alicia and Josh were waiting for me with a little rented Suzuki, and we picked up Peter C in Manuel Antonio. I felt pretty good for getting along on both hours of sleep. Docta P and Ariel were already at Josh's house, which was next door to the one we stayed in last year. It's a lot bigger and has the same view.

On the way here we stopped at the Mother-in-law bridge- there are large crocodiles below. We tossed them our young coconut discards but they weren't very interested. But it was fun to see these huge, seemingly slow loungers jerk with sudden quickness at the splash of the fruit.

We had our opening dinner at a restaurant in Dominical with a dutch-trained kitchen crew. Josh's mom is here too. The food tasted amazing; I had tapas dishes of filet mignon - just cooked a little - and a shrimp pineapple dish.

Yesterday Josh, Alicia, both Peters and I ran the Rio Savegre. We had a driver and two cars, minimizing shuttle headaches. I was still too out of it from traveling and tiredness to grasp it, and was a little bothered by my lack of ability to get into a small wave at the put-in 3 out of 5 times, and once had a hard time catching the eddy. My strength was not anywhere near it was this summer when I was riverboarding a couple times a week. Truth is I haven't felt right since the end of August but think I finally got the right diagnosis and treatment. Recovery will be slow. I found out my dad died from what I have, it's just that he never treated the 15 years he suffered from it.

Peter surfing, looking down from a bridge.

The river was a class III with a couple steep holes for play spots. All of us were on hydrospeeds except for Peter C, on his Carlson, and we had one Prijon, bought from H2O adventures in Quepos. They'd been sold by some Europeans needing money to get home. I wasn't able to stay in the holes; the current was pretty fierce. Peter C had the longest rides.

The highlight of the run was a waterfall. It was a short walk up the trail and delivered a great shower. Maybe at higher water it would have been possible to run; the drop was over 30'.

It began raining pretty hard when we got off the river. The sun was starting to go down and we chased a double rainbow for several miles. On the way back we stopped for some coconut water. Josh's mom cooked dinner for us; we enjoyed a healthy chicken dish with black beans and rice.

Today we might get in a river that has a section that must be done above the surface to avoid curious cayman.

Day 2

Kern Riverboarding Weekend: A Tiger’s Perspective

2009-04-25T07:42:00.000-07:00

Thanks so much to the Carol and Dean Koutzoukis for hosting us and letting us use their vehicles, houses and watercrafts. Thanks to Josh Galt for pulling off another Face Level Industries event.

After a couple laps around LAX and finding Josh, with Alex driving, Alicia, Kevin and myself had to find the NUUN sponsor products next, at a newer address in West LA that wasn't yet mapped to the GPS unit. Mission completed, we decided on In-N-Out between the Grapevine and Bakersfield. The first challenge was aimed at Josh, to down five double-doubles. Although a 36-hour day and freezing airport terminal preceded him, he only ate two.

Sweet scents of orange blossom and a nausea-inducing canyon highway later, we got settled in for a warm-up day on the river. Rounding up River Dave and some others at the park the next morning, we did a run on Limestone, surfing some holes on the way down. Afterwards we decided to hike up to Dry Meadow, about a 45-minute walk. The trail was up and down, the temps were climbing; several went along for the walk but without gear. We stopped at Carson Falls to take a look. A bit intimidating to me, especially after hearing Bob Carlson tell a story of someone dying in there. I said I'd do it if Alex would, which isn't the best logic - I need to assess my own skill level and make a decision - but what I was really thinking was that I'd like to watch someone do it, then make a more informed decision.

On we trudged, sweating heavily in our 5 to 7 mil wetsuits. I kept expecting to see some big flowering meadow, but it wasn't until I saw at least a dozen kayakers portaging with ropes down a large, dry wall with a waterslide at the bottom, did I figure it out. We'd run the slide after crossing the river and crawling up the slippery rock bank to the lowest pool. That one slide, with a big rooster tail that shot you and your craft into the air at the last turn, made the whole trip worthwhile. I felt 13 again. But we'd just gotten started.

Closely eyeing each rapid on the way up, the way down just didn't look like what I'd spied. Nothing seemed as big, but it was really fun, even though the water was on the low side. After about a half hour of riverboarding downstream, we came to Carson Falls. Josh had been running back along the trail getting photographs, but this time he was standing on a rock signaling us to eddy out and portage around the falls in no uncertain terms. I got out early and started walking around. A rescue attempt was being made for one member of the kayaking group that was at the slide, who had ended up out of his craft and swimming into the falls.

I don't really know what to say about that incident. I don't have any whitewater rescue certification or training, so it's hard for me to judge what was going right or wrong. The water was in the 40s and the kayaker was in his 60s. He'd had a grasp on the line at one point, but had let go.

We paired up and continued down the river looking for anyone who might be washed behind a rock. We didn't find anyone. The authorities had already been notified. Had that event not transpired when it did, several in our group would have run the falls, and with a buoyant craft below and fins behind, they would have been fine. The jury for my own decision to run it or not is still out.

All gathered at the Koutzoukis house for a great bbq dinner. Afterwards we watched a dvd Kevin had brought called "A Glorious Way to Die," a 1994 documentary about Russian rafters who reunited to complete a Siberian river run where they'd lost four buddies who missed the takeout. The crafts were hand made from scrap materials and felled trees. Inventive, yes. Safe? Well, they weren't easy to maneuver. One guy broke his leg as they unintentionally went through a strainer. Bob Carlson knew one of the women in the film. Small world.

Whenever we portage a rapid, we now call that "A blank spot in your life," referring to one of the many clichés in the documentary.

The downriver race was the same Limestone run we'd done Friday. Why is it that water always seems lower the second time you run a new spot? This stretch was not exactly a wave train. The rapids were a welcome relief to the many flat sections. I got an early lead but was quickly passed by Alex, and since he cut just in front of me, I rode his legs until he finally shook me off. Cool, now I had a local's line to follow. It stayed this way for a while, but I took the wrong side of a rapid and ended up in the slower current. I saw Peter Cameron on his Carlson, followed closely by Kevin on his hydrospeed, off to my left. Peter got in front of me easily and I never could catch him. So much for second place, but come what may I was not going to give up third.

My lack of familiarity with the river was probably what kept me going. I kept telling myself to keep on pushing, that the finish line was right round the next corner, when in reality it was many, many corners ahead. Kevin was a semi-safe ten feet or so behind me, and I kept a pace that allowed my breathing to remain somewhat steady. He closed the gap several times, and each time I would step up the pace until my legs screamed and my lungs, compressed by the vest and the board, burned, but felt a bit safer. At one point he was in contact with the rear quarter of my board's starboard side, trying to push around me, and we were quickly approaching a small rapid with one protruding medium sized rock, also to my right.

With riverboards you can push each other with the force of your craft, and this is allowable in competition as long as you do not use your hands to intentionally grab or pull. I focused on that rock and started pushing my opponent right at it, remaining just left of it myself to miss it and hit the current below. Just before entering the drop left of the rock, I glanced right and caught a glimpse of Aquianna* turning on her side in a flash of bright blue. I felt like a bloody shit for doing it, but it was nothing personal; it's just unfortunate that I had to do it to someone for whom I have mad respect and admiration.

There was one point, I think it was after the rock, that Kevin closed the gap again, and I thought if he passes me this time, he can have it. I can't take it, my body has reached its limit, I'll settle for fourth. But the next time I looked back, he was about 20 feet back, and I stopped worrying. Perhaps he'd reached his limit as well.

In bodyboarding and surfing competition, a key component to getting the best waves is being able to outpaddle the others. I won a lot of heats back in the day.

The next event was the standing wave competition. Alex nailed it; his friend who was new to the sport but could surf put on a brilliant display; Peter would stay on the wave forever and do knee rides. I was eliminated the first round of the final 6, which was fine with me, I was tired. I couldn't do much on the wave and was minus my ocean bodyboard. The wave was very close to the park where all the river festival activities were, so I took a trial run through the boardercross gates. I missed three of them.

The herd moved from the park up to the pizza joint for dinner where many beers and carbs were devoured out on the deck as the afternoon sun slipped over the peak. We moved the party to Alex's house for more revelry, including some very interesting games with a broomstick and some rope. It was a great end to a great day, aside from the tragedy at Carson Falls.

Sunday was Boardercross, a timed run with gates, two of them upstream. The first and last few gates were straightforward, but gate nine was upstream, ten was on the other side of the river perhaps only 30-40 feet downstream, and 11 was upstream, wide across a hole. Once you made 11 you were pretty much home free.

I cleared a perfect clean run before the event, hitting every gate, although wasn't trying for speed. I thought this would be a piece of cake. I'd placed 2nd in the last Boardercross event I'd entered, which was also my first, and felt ready.

With six Boardercross entrants, we were broken into two heats of three. It was myself against the locals, Alex and Dean (father and son). I took the middle position, a seeding from the downriver event. Alex and I advanced with fairly clean runs. The second heat was Peter, Kevin and Alicia. Kevin and Peter advanced.

In the next round I had nothing left. Gate nine was kind of messy; Alex jumped in it without going around the pole and blocked the rest of us. I gave up on 11 after missing 10. I came in last and lay prostrate on the turf afterwards, feigning death from exhaustion. There was to be a consolation run for whomever didn't advance, for a chance to get into the final. I was pretty tired from the previous two days of riverboarding, and wasn't too excited about the consolation heat, but was willing. Turns out, upon close photo and video review, Alex had used his hands inappropriately, adding up enough foul seconds to put him into the consolation heat to earn his way back into the final. I got to rest, and be in the final.

I was determined not to miss the gates this time, but I had to struggle for 11, taking awhile to paddle upstream. I had missed 10 yet again, but managed to get through the rest. Didn't matter; I got 4th, Kevin showed, Peter won and Alex placed. Utterly spent, I was just glad it was over. So I thought.

Walking back from the course Kevin and I chatted about the weekend's events and came to the realization that we had both earned third place in the overall points standing. We were tied! How cool is that, I thought. I had no idea what it really meant.

Basking in the warmth of vitamin D breezes only high desert can yield, I stripped off my 5 mil wetsuit and soaked the heat into my two-piece clad whiteness. I was looking forward to running Brush Creek, and was getting into my sandals, when River Dave and Josh ambled over and announced they had some news for us, with these really smug grins on their faces. I thought perhaps Alex had fouled again and pushed our places up. Nothing so lucky. Earlier, Kevin had the foresight to ask what would happen if there was a tie for an overall points position. The awards were given out based on the overall finish, rather than individual event finishes. The tie would not stand. It had to be broken. We could do it here, now, on the Boardercross, or somewhere else after running Brush Creek.

"Are you kidding me?!" I exclaimed, throwing my remaining sandal against the dirt, losing my cool for a moment, all while being video taped. "I'm SO tired, there's NO WAY I even have a chance at this! Can't we just split the prize?" Kevin just smiled and didn't seem to have any problem with this latest development, or if he did he didn’t show it.

We squeezed back into our sopping wet rashguards, wetsuits, booties, gloves, helmets, life vests and fins and plodded back down to the starting line. But not before I pulled Kevin aside for some attempt to make it easier on both of us. "Let's strategize here. Since we both missed gate 10, why don't we both just skip it?"

"Mmm, nuh-uh."

"You sure? Or we could just run it straight for time and not hit any of the gates."

Laughter. "If we did that, he (Josh) would probably find some 10-year old kid and have him do the gates and declare him the winner."

I thought about my anger and tried to draw from some inner strength and go with it, and relax a bit. It's just a game and I was here for fun, after all. This would be my fifth run if you include my warm-up run. So what if my body had failed in that last run, Kevin had to be a little tired as well.

Kevin had the advantage of starting one body-width downriver from the jump-off platform. But I did pass him, and after shaking him off my legs, I managed to get in front for the first few gates. He got the inside, tighter corner on the upstream 9. We were both kind of stuck there side by side, fighting the current for what felt like a half a minute as the crowd cheered us on, myself grunting like a weightlifter, finally finding a way up and around the pole a second after Kevin turned. But his inside position had put him further downriver towards gate 10, giving him less time to get there, and it put him further downriver. I paddled like I was being chased by a shark, squeaked around it, then noticed that he had gotten washed out of gate 11. I was about six inches from being washed down, but paddled like that shark was still there, fought the uphill current adding precious seconds to my time, but it turned out to be a good decision. Kevin hadn't noticed I was fighting to make the gate and didn't sprint as hard as he could have. Two missed gates were enough seconds added to declare myself the tie-break winner for overall third.

That afternoon we hit Brush Creek, a gorgeous canyon with lots of teacup falls and narrow chutes to slide down. It eats your board, your elbows, and even my GoPro camera housing got destroyed. We portaged around the largest falls because it's a straight drop into waste deep water. The other drops you could slide around the sides, skimming along the slick surface. My brand new Kern riverboard was definitely broken in!

It was over all too soon, and we found ourselves again at the In-N-Out near the Grapevine, famished. Josh made up for his earlier burger challenge and downed three double-doubles.

*Aquianna is what Kevin named his hydrospeed.

Rochelle Parry is fairly new to riverboarding, but not to the water. She won the USSF Amatuer Women’s Bodyboard Championships in 1990, and has been riding waves on bodyboards since 1978. Not quite old enough to be a cougar, she prefers the term tiger, as she is aggressive in the water but pretty laid back, otherwise.

The 7th Day: PV -> SJC

2009-02-12T20:55:00.000-08:00

One thing I will say about the Caribbean, never having seen it before, is the colors are spectacular. The emeralds and aquamarines and blues are so striking. We'd been living in greyness the past week for the most part. It's really different from on the west coast of the US. Here if you want grey and fog, head to the beach. Especially in June and July. If you want sunshine head inland. Not here, it was the reverse.

Josh climbing up to the treehouse platform. The ladder wasn't bad, but he didn't trust the platform once he got up there.

We ate breakfast at a place that advertised sushi. Not that we were going to have sushi for breakfast. I struggled with ordering something without sugar. I asked if the granola had sugar in it, which came with yogurt and I held that because of the dairy content... and they assured me it did not. No, the granola didn't but I'm pretty sure that the chocolate chips inside the granola had some... Alex and Josh ordered orange juice. Alex swallowed a large mouthful when Josh about spit his out in disgust. It had fermented. And no, these were not screwdrivers, at least they were not supposed to be. We wondered how long the orange juice had sat in the fridge... which lead us to wondering about their sushi. We watched as other patrons ordered orange juice, and watched even closer for a reaction upon consuming. The waiter asked if they'd like to try lemonade or apple juice, but everyone stuck with water pretty much after that.

On the way back from breakfast this guy with long white hair stopped and entertained us, earning a few colones for laughs. He was good. Even showed us a dice trick that is very hard to see, even when you know how it is done. A sort of burly dude walked by and he asked him how it felt to be on the outside. A couple of euro-looking guys with the expensive sunglasses and made-to-look-messy-but-probably-loaded-with-product hair passed by and he promised not to do any homosexual jokes. The one liners kept coming and I wished I had turned on my video recorder. I guess even after three years of owning a camera that shoots video, there are few times I remember to actually use it.
Photo: FaceLevel.com

Here's one for Rory.
Photo: FaceLevel.com

After breakfast we had to check out and get ready to hit the waves. Which meant loading all the boards onto the car again. There had been some damp gear left in the car which was in the sun. It was pretty ripe in there. As we loaded up the car Kevin decided to don some sun protection, giving him a bit of a middle-eastern look.

We surfed at a place called Cocles. The surf was larger than it had been in Dominical, and a lot of guys were on it. They were steep but not too punishing. Alex traded his board for a fish, which was easier to ride. The current was pretty strong and sometimes it was really hard to paddle back out. I got caught inside a lot. After a while the tide changed and the winds got more onshore but all the locals went in. Stayed out for about two hours and did further damage to the sunburn I obtained at Dominical. When I came in I just wanted to lie face up in the sun and relax. But the trip wasn't about getting tan, and soon enough we were off again, unshowered but happy; at least this time it wasn't riverwater.
On the way out of town we decided to get some lunch. This little stand run by an expat made really awesome veggie burritos. They used tofu in ways tofu has never been made before. The children of the owner served us, little towhead boys, very cute.The burritos were so large they were impossible to pick up. I told my favorite racist jokes. I just figure everyone has heard them, but I think different areas of the country grow up with different jokes. The burritos just happened to remind me of one. Why do Mexicans serve burritos for Christmas dinner? It's so the kids have something to unwrap. Bad, I know. The next one was worse, so I will restrain my eagerly typing fingers.

Josh and I are in this one, but you have to look pretty carefully.
Ice cream was served next door. I found a chair in the shade to wait out the temptation. The guys took turns using the chair across from me. It did look good; some lady at the bar area ordered a strawberry shake. I may have been drooling; I know I was almost sleeping. Conversations floated in and out of the air; sounds like the proprietor had been there awhile, and for the third time in PV, Josh was offered something with a bit more kick to start off the afternoon. Conversations with nomads. It would be a good book title.

Afterwards we took a few last beach shots, using my Gorillapod tripod and self timer. Josh started picking up some coconuts, threatening to throw them, and regretted it pretty quickly; the liquid inside had gone bad and the stench was atrocious, not wanting to come off.
So long beach, it was time to head back to San Jose.

Andres wasn't available in Heredia, so we stayed at a hostel in San Jose. Once we found it. We circled near the landmark - a very tall hotel, I forget the brand, looking for our Pangea, where we had reservations. We circled three times I think before finally spotting the tiny sign on a metal door. The roads are one way, narrow, and the street names are elevated, higher than eye level. You'd never know there was a hostel behind the gate. The gate opened and it was like entering a different universe. We pulled into a very small parking lot and entered through what seemed like a side door, down some stairs, around a corner to the main lobby. Showed our IDs and were shown our room. That had stuff in it. Was there a mistake? No, it was a room with four bunk beds, all of whose bottom bunks were occupied, by guys, although there was only one person in there trying to sleep. The hallways of this place were narrow and darkly painted with hallucinogenic jungle murals, but the inside felt like a barracks. No electrical outlets, but there was a window that led to the ... hallway. Arriving after a long drive, unshowered, sleepy, used to being with just us the whole time, I was just a little unnerved at the situation. I decided to go rent a towel (mine was pretty stanky by then) and get cleaned up. Amazing what a shower will do for one's attitude.

By the time I got back I felt better about it, although it wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my last night in Costa Rica, I made an effort to let it go, go with the flow and figure eventually everyone will sleep, and what sleep I didn't get I could make up on the airplane. We went upstairs to seek food, but the bar was closing, the open air rooftop bar, where the wind was blowing, it was just a little cold. We ordered food and they said we could eat it down by the pool... The food was okay, enough to avoid going to bed hungry. Afterwards we found a sitting area where we exchanged images and videos. The guy who had been trying to sleep ended up there. The airline had delayed his luggage and he was waiting for it.

I had a point of panic when I tried to find my cash to pay Josh. I'd hidden it. And I'd forgotten where. I found it in LA at my sister's when I was hunting for Immodium, a result, I think, of the airport food I ate in Atlanta. Or it could have been something I had at my sister's, not sure maybe a combo. But I was relieved to find the cash, glad I hadn't spent it. super glad no one in TSA had found it. Luckily there was an ATM to get out of the country. You have to pay $26 to leave Costa Rica.

Listened to an interesting conversation with a firey Irishman. His travel mate, a kiwi, had overslept and missed the bus out the previous morning.They spoke in rather course language to one another, implying the kiwi was somehow involved with ewes. I was going to have to be the first one up, having a 9am flight. I put my morning clothes next to my pillow and eventually the conversations ended and the lights went out.

At 6:30 I used my flashlight and put a few articles of clothing on in the dark. The nearest bathroom was a pretty good trek down some hallways and I was kind of getting weary of modesty. I turned the light on at 6:45, pulled clothes on from my suitcase while others started getting up, and got dressed and packed. Said my goodbyes to Alex and Kevin and headed out. Upon checkout I had to say about three times that I was not looking for a bus to the airport, that we had a car. Apparently no one who stays there has a car.

The ride to the airport was quick and we did not get lost. I reflected on what an awesome trip it had been, how we all traveled well together and enjoyed each other's humor. Blank spots notwithstanding, it's a trip I would definitely make again.

Puerto Viejo

2009-02-11T23:14:00.003-08:00

"It wouldn't be a road trip in Costa Rica unless I got a speeding ticket." - Josh Galt

We drove out towards the coast, over the misty mountain tops and through Limon, which didn't look like a good place to stop. Traffic was heavy, businesses armored. Bumpers served as handles for the occasional bicyclist. Eventually we got out to the coast and everything changed. Even the palm trees.

Curiously enough this place was called "Painted Palms".

Alex, blending in again. (Note his shirt colors. Then note the palm tree colors.)

Someone else tried the same thing on a grove just a little ways up the road, but they used red, yellow and green, rasta colors, but the paint wasn't shiny and it didn't really work.

We decided to get lodging first, and found this hotel a couple blocks off the downtown. Our room was sort of around the back, in a lush setting. It had two twins and one queen bed. Comfortable enough, although wireless access was only in the patio area.

After settling in we got dinner. At least three of us got dinner. Alex got something more resembling a nortemericano diner lunch. (Alex is vegetarian. I don't eat cheese or sugar. Somehow, we managed not to starve.) We tried to find some place Josh recalls that overlooked Salsa Brava, which wasn't breaking, but couldn't find it. The place we ate at was decent; they didn't serve stripes of mustard, ketchup and mayo and call it salsa. It was real food, and although about 4x as much $, worth every cent.

I introduced the gang to TBTL with a broadcast that was meant to give the ever-so-cheesy queen of dripping emotional ooze, Delila, a run for her money. My favorite one was a song dedicated to a gerbil, who died under nebulous circumstances, and they dedicated Michael Bolton's rendition of How Am I Supposed To Live Without You. You can find it under old shows, I think it aired the Wednesday before Thanksgiving '08. I was driving back from a surf outing in Westport and they were recapping the highlights of the previous week's show. It was definitely a highlight.

We decided to go out and listen to some jazz beats that were making their way over to our dwelling. It was an all-white person group, looked like americans, sounded okay, I spent most of the set waiting in line for the bathroom. I talked to one lady who was there doing a border run. Her husband, also an expat, was set up to live in Panama, but she had to do the 3 day visa thing and came up to Costa Rica to do it.

They ended their night and we followed the sounds of another band playing up the street at a disco. But it wasn't disco music it was Jamaican reggae, mon. It was great, so much better than what passes for reggae stateside. We watched from an opening in the side of the building, like where there might normally be a wall, but remember they don't believe in those things in the country. So we had a pretty good view without having to go inside where it was too loud and smokey. There were some characters about, one guy who was pretty lit dancing in the dirt street, tribes of others ducking into the bushes to do.. something.

On the way back we stopped in at a liquor store. I wanted to buy some Guaro but they didn't sell it. The place next door did. So I went next door and they didn't have it on the shelf. It wasn't at the main counter. Way in the back, I had to ask a clerk for it. She reached under some shelf and pulled some out for me. Two, please. They both made it home, one nearly polished off in LA, shared with my sister's household, and the other one is sitting on a shelf waiting for some kind of occasion.

I think I had had some Guaro that night, and there was one beer left, and I couldn't just let it sit there... although no one would help me drink it. Sleep came pretty easy as soon as the neighbors decided to stop chatting, but I woke up way too early again. The kitchen wasn't open til 7 and I had an hour to kill. So I read, then finally gathered up my computer and tea bag and headed outside. Some older guy was hovering around the kitchen and I asked his name. He seemed surprised that I was interested in it, which is kind of sad. He helped me turn on the stove and find a pot to boil water. I set up my computer at the outward facing tables where there was electrical outlet and a view of the gift shop across the street.

Another employee joined me later and sat a the next table. I'm not sure what his role was there but he seemed to do a little of everything. And he'd one a little over everything, naming off the countries he had lived in like someone might name all the people in their family. He became more enthusiastic about talking to me when he realized I spoke some Spanish. He said I looked tense and started massaging my shoulders. I thought this was a little forward but it did feel pretty good. He asked why I was so tense and showed him pictures of what we'd been doing the past week. He had me stand up and seemed to hit every sore spot. I declined the offer to continue it in a bedroom... but everything remained above board. I was kind of sad when the phone started ringing and he had to go. I asked what style he was using and he said Shiatzu. Whatever it was, it was just what I needed.

Turriabla & Pacuare & Puerto Viejo, Day 6

2009-02-11T18:38:00.000-08:00

Photo: FaceLevel.com

Check out the "nike" logo. Nothing pirated here, no sirree.

Eclectic storefront.

Since we'd had such a wonderful time on the Pacuare, and it was going to be our last river run in Costa Rica, we decided to try it again. Only this time, the water was a little on the low side, in spite of a downpour in the middle of the night, when some late-arriving neighbors woke me up, and I went for a stroll around the building at 1am. The rain on the roof was deafening, although not deafening enough to drown out whoever was wearing heels on the bare tile. I figured there should be water like the day before, but this was not to be the case.

We weren't in a huge hurry but we did have to check out and load all of our gear into the car, along with having room for our driver, whom we decided would have to find his own way back to Turriabla, because Puerto Viejo was the opposite direction. I was still on a mission to get some Colones from the bank. After breakfast I decided to do just that, having failed the day before as the line was so long I would have held up our departure for about 45 minutes. Kevin joined me in waiting in line for the bank to open. I figured we were about a half hour early, and there were about 10 people in front of us, but Costa Rica time is a curiosity to behold, a reliever of stress, because you cannot really go by deadlines and openings and all that rot we pay so much attention to in America. So, we waited, guessing if this guard standing there or not standing there meant anything.

The doors to the bank were these contraptions like something out of Get Smart. The day before when I'd tried to get money, and gave up at the long line, we had to stand inside the glass box and get scanned, or something, before entering the bank. I guess they were looking for weapons. They got space age technology to stop them bank robbers before they cause any problems. Why don't we do something like that. By the time a metal detector goes off in a US bank, it's too late. Here, the door doesn't open until you've been xrayed. Finally some time after 9 (I've lost track of time frames here) (who's looking at a watch anyway) we were allowed to enter, but we didn't have to stop in the glass box and wait for the door to open. We just walked right through it, and were told to stand on some faint floor markers that were there to control how the line flows. Little black squares did a snaking pattern, like the lines at Disneyland but squared on the ends. In the US the equivalent would be those red velvet ropes on those black stands with the gold tops, the ones that topple over if you even look at them. How much more permanent and maintenance free are the tile patterns.

So I finally got to use some Español, and got some Costa Rican cash at a fair exchange rate (it's basically two dollars per colone.)

You can see just to the left of Kevin, that area was under water yesterday.

It was still a fun run, just a wee bit bonier. Which made it harder. I didn't get caught in any eddies, and the spillover was non-existent. But, the rapids were way bumpier and I kept getting kicked off my craft. I think I swam three rapids; the kayakers and raft guides kept asking about my health. I'M FINE. Only my ego got bruised. By the time I hit the last major rapid I was so far off my board I just went with it. Face up, head first, one outstretched arm hanging onto the hydrospeed, staring at the sky, glad I had a helmet on, thinking I'd rather be nowhere else than right here.

I suppose a better decision might have been to do the Reventazon again, not having to scout so much, but hind sight and all that... I really would have liked to go and rerun the Spurt and filled in some of those blank spots.

Just before our last run.

Next: To Puerto Viejo

Pacuare I: Day 6

2009-02-10T17:20:00.001-08:00

There was a rafting trip leaving around 7:30 that we could have linked up with, but our sleepiness prevailed and we made a more realistic goal of an 8:30 departure. Figured we would just go with it, raft or no. Had our usual breakfast and as luck would have it, leapfrogged a rafting company from about half way to the put in. We'd been warned that the water was running low. It would be good to have someone to follow.

Kevin, spiking the water with Nuun. Photo: FaceLevel.com.

Turns out probably every raft company and kayak was running it that day. It was really high! It had rained a lot the night before and was continuing to rain all day. This was going to be awesome. A rafting group, some in euro-style shorts (why do they do this), was getting ready to put in, but we had our alliance with a different group who was already getting down river. One of their guides was a one-legged kayaker. We struggled a bit to catch up but eventually got close.

Yesterday had been my day to learn about holes. Today's lesson: Eddies 101. Eddies are a great thing. You can avoid a potential death trap just by swimming over to the side and getting out of the water. You can scoot back upriver to talk to someone or get a better picture angle. You can rest out of the current. These are all great things. But get just the slightest bit out of line on the Pacuare and she sucks you into it faster than you knew what hit ya. It was useless to fight one that pulled me in after a rapid/drop and swooped back upstream alongside a smooth rock. I let the current take me back to the hole, then used the hole to push me back into the current.

The water seemed really 'grabby', like there were little gremlins beneath the current tugging at my ankles. Perhaps it was because it was a fairly narrow river and a lot of water moving through it. The rapids, although brown, were splendid waves, one that even sort of spouted at the top. There was seemingly little consequence to anything we did, although we still followed the lead of the boats and kayaks. It was pure, simple and beautiful fun.

Photo: Alex Koutzoukis, still from video

There was that one time (there's always that one time) where three of us didn't quite get to the best side of a drop. Josh saw it soon enough and paddled to the right to take the best line through it, and while the rest of us tried, we were already too far over to the left to get out of the magnetic force field sucking us into the vortex. It happened kind of fast and all I remember thinking was "whatever is down there, I guess I'm going to find out" and that thought relaxed me. What we were being drawn over towards was something resembling a concrete spill, smooth fast water angling down at about 30 degrees probably, maybe more - I'm trying to recall what slope degrees feel steep when I snowboard - and a big dark hole at the bottom. I don't remember getting spun too much, but we all went through the rinse cycle and came out unscathed.

Approaching the hole. Should have been more right. Deep breath!

Looking back at the spillway geography.

Detritus. Photos: Alex K, stills from video.

The most beautiful part of Rio Pacuare is just before a steeply walled canyon with waterfalls coming down into it. The top part has a few quick rapids but a good portion is slow, allowing you to really enjoy the surroundings, which is probably one of the prettiest places I've ever experienced. Unlike the Reventazon, there were a lot of people to wave to on this run.

Photos: FaceLevel.com
The run was fairly long, and we felt like we should stop and get some nourishment. Pulled up on the shore, a fairly rocky with some wet sand, for about 15 minutes. Not five minutes after getting back in the water, we saw a tower, a cable and a bridge...

Right about then I had another date with Eddie. This Eddie was very strong, must have ate his Wheaties that morning, and done weight training. We had to get through a shallow, bumpy rapid, then go to the left to get to the bridge and car area. I couldn't get over to the left. Eddie vacuumed me off and to the right, and drew me towards a dead area that was full of debris. I was thinking, this can't be good. Survive all the rapids and get done in by a log in an eddie. Josh motioned for me to go with the current, swinging around back into the main area. But I was afraid I'd somehow get wedged where the debris was thicker and was determined to fight it. There was a rock face and I was able to pull myself along it and hang onto tiny fingerholds with my fingertips, inching myself closer to the rock. I struggled this way for what seemed like eternity, probably five minutes, and finally got enough of a counter-current next to the rock to kick out and around it.

There was a nice little rapid under the highway bridge leading up to where we met Luis, our driver. Out by the car someone tried to sell us soap stone carvings, little dust collector ugly things (who buys this crap!). We asked if he made it but of course it was a relative who made them. But the nice thing about Tico vendors is that once you tell them you're not interested they bugger off. Some countries the junk sellers must have been taught that no never really means no, in sales, you never hear no, you just work to overcome their objections. Or be enough of a pest so that they will buy something to make you go away.

More day five

2009-02-07T00:04:00.000-08:00

I got quite a lump from the hit, and even a couple weeks later there's some swelling or something preventing a comfortable leg bend. And that was on top of this:

I mentioned Patricia in an earlier post. After running the river we had a lot of wet gear that was getting a river funk, and where we stored our gear was also the laundry room in the basement of the Interamericano. The washers and dryers were not coin operated and Josh decided to use the washer, asking forgiveness later if necessary. I thought better of it, hung up my damp gear on the clotheslines so it would still be damp in the morning, and headed upstairs. What I missed afterwards I can only report second-hand, and would have made for some really exciting video coverage. Apparently, Patricia noticed that the washers were in use. Let me preface this by saying that while we were in Domincal, Josh asked each of us what we thought a load of paid laundry would cost. We guessed around two or three bucks. No, it was more like ten. Ten dollars for someone to wash and dry your clothing. Not cheap. She came down to confront Josh about the laundry and was visibly upset and overly emotional about the whole situation. Apparently Josh had crossed some line in her mind that made him an evil person and subject to her wrath.

A bit later Patricia and Josh had a conversation outside of the room. I was there for that one. Josh stressed that is was simply a business issue and she was making it a personal one. He felt that she glared at him when he walked by, something she denied, and that he didn't want there to be any of these vibes going on. He was willing to pay for the service and be done with it. She did listen intently and eventually they agreed he would give her 10 dollars for the laundry ( I don't even think he used the dryer). One thing about Costa Ricans is they are fond of their coins. Paper money doesn't last long; as soon as you buy anything you end up with a pound or two of the thick, heavy Colones in change. Josh took advantage of the opportunity to dump all of his small coins that just mostly take up space...

Change, anyone?
Her reaction was disappointing: neither angry or amused.

Dinner in Turriabla was a little hard to find; I think that it must not be a major dining hour in their culture. Most of the restaurants were either closed or empty. We did find an open and busy establishment across from the town square - which was a city block long and wide park which advertised having internet access... yes, I want to sit out in a public park at night with a $2400 computer out of its bag... - that was busy and served pizza along with other norteamericano style entries. Before we had found the restaurant we paid for some internet access at this large facility that was upstairs with probably 30 or more booths with computers. The high speed there was fantastic and pretty cheap. The ambience was rather severe, but either they didn't understand the value of such things or didn't want people camping out there all day. Although, there was a couch near the table I set up shop at.

The restaurant also had high speed access for free, and we saw some people from the hostel, including Zack Boles, who is a sponsored kayaker. We'd tried to hook up with him to share a ride and a river, but between the miscommunication and stubbornness of the 'oh I quoted you way too low' outfit on the first morning, to other plans that involved hiking and whatnot.

Geeking out at the restaurant. The only grounded electrical outlets were above us.

The food was something else. Pizza was the safest bet, but I don't eat cheese, so that wasn't an option. We shared some mini-tacos; it was easy enough to pluck off the lump of cheese that polluted each shell. Ordered a salad that was heavily salted to the point where I just couldn't choke it down - most of it was consumed by Kevin and Alex... and some spaghetti that was enough to satisfy perhaps a 98 pound girl. The dish ended up upsetting my stomach a little - the only time in Costa Rica I had any of that sort of trouble... I supplemented with some sandwich bread that was quite good. The weirdest thing was what they considered salsa: thin stripes of ketchup, mayo and mustard across your entry. Salsa is sort of a generic term in Costa Rica, its ingredients open to interpretation by anyone who sells it.

Next.. day 6

Day 5, January 20, 2009: Rio Reventazon

2009-02-06T18:32:00.001-08:00

The first thing we noticed when we pulled up to the put-in area was a thick trail of leaf-cutter ants.

Suiting up amidst cow pies and ants.

Ant-free avocado. (Does the three second rule apply in a cow pasture?)

Ready to rumble on the Reventazon.

Way back in '92 I'd wanted to raft the Pacuare, but the companies going on the day I could were booked up. But they had space on the Reventazon. We riverboarded the Pascua and Florida sections. Neither of them looked familiar. It was probably the Florida section, but rivers do change over time.

Patricia, an expatriate who worked at the Interamericano and would only say she was from "near a city" in the US, told Josh that the president of the Costa Rica whitewater association (there is such a thing?) was very concerned that we were planning on riverboarding the Reventazon. There had been a death there fairly recently, but the flood stage levels had created whole different set of circumstances. While the woman might be honestly concerned, the way she went about expressing it was less than ideal. She didn't want any guests showing up dead, or something to that effect. Making friends. Yah. It was not our final run-in with Patricia.

Photo: FaceLevel.com

One of the rapids we came to early on we portaged around. There were two flows coming together and one pushed into a huge, undercut rock. It wasn't in the guidebook. But then, nothing was.

We definitely had big water and most of it was deep.

Photos: FaceLevel.com

At the top of one rapid, just after jumping in after a scout, the outer side of my left leg, just at the top of the knee and up the thigh got well acquainted with a rock, the pain being such that I was just hoping I didn't break something. I still had to navigate a couple of drops and had to fight out of a hole afterwards. I made it to the eddy okay and Alex and Kevin ran a slot on a different line. I had to rest a few minutes for the pain to subside. I couldn't put weight on it but I could still kick, albeit with a little pain, but nothing that would stop me.

On another series of drops, I got caught in a hole just before a pretty sizable spillover. While circulating through the cycles, holding onto my craft with one hand, I was unaware of what was coming ahead, mostly because I couldn't see it. After the second dunking, while emerging, I felt as though I could get back up on my board but that process was made infinitely easier by Kevin's hand steadying my board while I slid back on it. I had to dart around rock, and I was not cognizant of the fact that Kevin had pushed me away from the middle of the spillover. It put him in a bad line, just in front of the rock, but he was able to surf the pillow in front of it to get around the other side of it. When we caught up to Alex and Josh, they were clapping. I was not really aware of the situation until hearing the perspectives of the others. Yet I was still not as shaken as I had been on the Spurt.

The hole that ate me, a second before being sucked down. Photo still from GoPro camera video.

A steadying hand. Photo still from GoPro camera video.

Yikes! Where did that come from? Photo still from GoPro camera video.

We scouted every single rapid, since we had no rafts or kayaks to escort us or show us the lines. (For that matter, we saw no other humans on the entire run, until near the end I saw one.) And there were a lot of rapids! Have you ever walked through tide pools, or a cobblestone beach at low tide? Carrying something? With flippers on? and one bad leg? Sometimes we were able to scout from a relatively easy shore walk, but other times it was crawling over boulders or wading through a shallow area with a current tugging at your feet. After awhile I just waited for the guys to give their report, saving my energy for the waves.

I must admit I was never happier to see a bridge and a cable. Was just a wee bit tired by the end of it.

When we got out of the water, we were greeted by several head of cattle. Some had horns. We had to walk about 50 ft through their field then duck a barbed wire fence on a steep slope. Something tells me this isn't where the rafts take out. We got up to the car, which was parked just at a large bridge. Two out of every three vehicles was an 18 wheeler, making it a rather noisy and drafty spot to get changed. Nowhere to really hide, either, and I don't typically mess with a bathing suit under a wet suit. Did the best I could with a towel and a car door. Probably still flashed someone.

One thing I try not to do while in the water is pee in my wetsuit. I've heard that it can be hard on the material, not to mention the odor. I'd been 'holding it' for hours. So we stopped at the grocery on the way back, and I also got ice for my knee. Here is how the bathroom/grocery store works: If you have a backpack or similar item, you ask one of the many employees hanging around the front of the store to use the restroom. They take you to a stack of lockers, put your carry in item in there, and hand you a tag with your locker number on that. I guess they don't want you stuffing your backpack with toilet paper or something. Not that there was any in the restroom anyway...

More day 5 >>

Pejibaye River

2009-02-05T22:36:00.001-08:00

Still on Day 4, more pics & continued.

Walking down to the Pejibaye. Still from video. All water photos by FaceLevel.com

Alex, avoiding the caiman. Or was it the cold temps? No, that would have been Josh.

At least the scenery was nice. Pictured here on Alex's Kern board which is built so that you can bring your knees up onto the craft and avoid hitting rocks. We switched back quickly as he wasn't wearing as much protective leg gear.

Alex blends in well.

Luis, our faithful and very cool driver.

After a few mishaps, they did get a system down well before the end of the trip.

Kevin, keeping the boards from flying away.

After the shallows of the Pejibaye, esp. at the end, we were a little hungry for bigger water. We might have hopped the fence and ridden this if it wasn't so shallow on the landing

Next

Costa Rica Day 4, Jan 19, 2009. Turriabla & Pejibaye

2009-02-05T18:38:00.000-08:00

Home sweet hostel.

Breakfast joint, same interesting assortment of folks every morning... and same $2 breakfast of rice, beans, corn tortillas, and egg. Just across the tracks and street from the lodge.

Deck around the corner from our room, nice place to chill and do some stretching and exercise.

View from our nice deck. Even in a downpour, this space stayed dry. Notice the sleepers.

I took this before I realized we did get maid service :).

Goofing around in Turriabla. The coin slot was unresponsive. Or maybe it just knew there wasn't just a child on it and wouldn't budge. Stubborn mule.

I tend to avoid exchanging currency at the airport, pretty sure that the banks would give a better rate. The problem is finding a bank that is open at the same time I am carrying my passport on me and my cash. I brought cash this time because in El Salvador is was kind of hard to find a bank that would cash traveler's checks. Probably would not have been a big deal in San Salvador, but we were in La Libertad, which is a small, mostly poor with a couple wealthy enclaves, coastal community. First I tried in Heredia, but realized when we were at the mall to get batteries at the Radio Shack, that I wasn't carrying my passport. We tried in Jaco, but it was too late and the banks were closed. There were a couple of banks in Turriabla. I'd eventually have to hit one. But not in the ski-mask and pistol kind of way.

There was some disagreement over the before-agreed upon rate to haul us and our gear to the river with another vehicle. We ended up hiring Luis, and used the Bego. It was cozy with five, but not as bad as with six.

Suiting up at the Pejibaye. Reminded me of the entrance to the break near the dump in Neah Bay. Finding this place was part of the challenge. The villages we drove through were quaint and tidy. We stopped and asked directions many times. The dirt road wound up through cane fields and it made me wonder how the cane trucks even fit.

Where's the water?

More...

Costa Rica Day 3

2009-02-03T21:41:00.000-08:00

January 18. Beach day.
92 beats for minute. That is supposedly the 'sex beat', according to Alex, the rhythm pulsating at Roca Verde, last night's discotech. Kevin asked what would happen if you made church music at 92 beats. Various theories were entertained.

We got in at 2am or so but didn't go to bed right away. Josh was trying to make his iMovie 8 work, and it wasn't doing much to work. That program sucks. iMovie 6 was much, much better. I played on the computer a bit, processing pics and such but went to bed upstairs and laid there... more adrenaline pumping, the neighbor snoring louder than the infinite roar of the insect populations on the other side of the screens. I used the restroom and noticed a small piece of tp in the toilet... not good. But I did flush successfully and tried to sleep again, passing Josh working on the compter still.. encouraging him to go to bed. Then a new noise: a toilet plunger, for about 15 minutes... Kevin was working out that one.

All mac, all the time!
So we slept in a bit; I think I finally got to sleep around 3, after Josh finally came upstairs and fell asleep instantly (why can't I do that!), I put the earplugs in again. When I awoke at 6:30 it was quiet. I was able to sleep another hour then couldn't any more. Four nights in a row with about four hours of sleep per night. And my throat was not sore, but I was very tired head-wise.

We lumbered down to the beach at the whee dawn patrol hour of... 11:30 and rented a couple of longboards at Dominical. There was still a bit of a swell, sun coming out, and the tide was lower, so the waves were punchier. Alex and Josh rode longboards, Kevin took his hydrospeed and I took my bodyboard. Did some bodysurfing, and also tried the hydrospeed. The water was warm, the sun came out, there was a cool water channel under at your feet.

Josh got a lot of good ones of me, and I'm not ashamed to display the best ones here. For more, or if you're too lazy to read and just want to look at pictures, click here.

All water shots by FaceLevel.com

I tried to surf but after catching waves for a couple hours, was too exhausted to stand up.

Lunch was these amazing sandwiches made with home made bread, turkey, avo, veggies and a fruit smoothie made with fruit and honey. So delicious, sat at the outdoor tables and talked about what I'm not sure, but the main thing that's been cool about this trip is that we haven't had to rush. Josh hates rushing and is just mellow about everything. Would rather get there early and chill.

Watch out for land sharks! Photo: FaceLevel.com

After getting cleaned up we packed up again to head for the river mecca of Turriabla. But not before watching an amazing sunset from the deck and enjoying a last bit of company with the neighbor's pets. Who camped out on Josh's side. Most of the time.

We headed out after dark, a little risky as the roads aren't exactly user friendly. A tow truck that had a powerful engine lead the way. Lots of fog made the drive interesting winding up into the mountains. We stopped for dinner in San Isidro, a lively place with supposedly many women. We parked on the square, although the place we'd planned on eating wasn't open. We went to a sort of restaurant/bar upstairs with about 8 televisions all playing something different. There was a horrible Ashton Kutcher movie that was, I'm sure, much improved without the sound. There was a werewolf chasing a young damsel around a parking garage and into an elevator shaft on another set. A game of some kind was on too; I don't remember the exact sport. There weren't any open tables so we sat at this long bar overlooking the town square, only I would have been on the end around a post so I sat on the other side facing inwards. The drive did my stomach in and I only ate a couple of french fries.

The rest of the drive was winding and at times a bit odd. Seemingly deserted housing developments dotted the two lane highway. Only the very occasional sign gave us reassurance we were heading the right way. I put on some Massive Attack and a very situationally appropriate song came on, "Inertia Creeps". It felt like driving through a bit of hell as perhaps CS Lewis would describe it in The Great Divorce.

Finally we reach the town but have no address for the hostel. The river guidebook gives a description of a brightly painted building, the Hotel Interamericano. It wasn't too hard to find, being described as on the wrong side of the tracks. And it really was; you'll see why in the next blog post. But I don't think I've stayed in a cleaner hostel or felt safer in one outside the US and Canada.

Our odd roof luggage attracted the stares of some curious onlookers, who didn't appear to be friendlies. The hostel had a secure storage area in the basement where there was washing machines and clotheslines. Not that anything really dries in this moist climate! We unpacked and found our room, with two twin beds and a bunk, bathrooms and showers on the other side. Around the corner we had a little patio sitting area that overlooked a homeless camp. I wasn't sure what the hostel situation was going to be like. A lot of them in the US separate women and men into different dormitories. The only other co-ed one I have stayed at, in Jackson, Wy when I first moved there, I wished were segregated, as there were a few snorers, starers and no privacy. (I moved into a hotel the next day.) It was great having our own room and being able to stay together. No internet access was the only downside. The bed was really comfortable for a hostel, although I needed more than a sheet for warmth. I slept in all the clothes I could find, even if they weren't exactly fresh. But, I think I might have actually slept more than five hours that night. Awesome.

Next...

Costa Rica, day 2.5

2009-02-03T01:52:00.000-08:00

January 17, 2009
It feels like 2.5 days because I'd arrived pretty late at night on a Thursday, so that day really didn't count. Friday was the first day and in the morning we shopped for batteries before hitting the road. Word to those traveling to Costa Rica: Buy your lithium batteries at home. They're curiously expensive here.

This morning we spent at Dominical at some fun 1-3 foot clean and glassy rights and lefts. It felt SOOO good to be in the water. Warm water. No wetsuit at all. I caught one really good drop knee left and Josh got a great pic of me bellying it on a right. We did have to be in Quepos by a certain time to get together with a rafting company to do El Chorro, so we were on a little bit of a schedule. After surfing we were hungry, and we had about 20 minutes to order lunch at a "soda", but 'quick' is not really a word in Costa Rica, unless you're turning to avoid a rock on a river. Instead we bought some snacks at a convenience store. Finding something without sugar (my diet restriction of choice this year) was a challenge. Luckily I still had some organic food bars in my pack, some home-made.

Photos: FaceLevel.com

We hooked up with a H20 Adventures in Quepos to manage vehicles. A raft and two additional passengers were added to our already loaded vehicle. We had six squished into a four/five seater. It smelled a lot better after we got out of the water. I shared the front seat with a gal from the states. She seemed like one tough cookie, but nice. We were let out at a meadow that smelled a little like a pig farm and waited for Josh to park the car downstream and hitch a ride with the commercial raft bus. I made the mistake of throwing my Reef sandals, the kind that are strapped with velcro and quick release tabs, into someone's bag and never saw them again. I could have used them for the hike back to the road.

Photo: FaceLevel.com

Josh believes that no one has ever riverboarded El Chorro, which I just found out translates to "spurt". So here we were, making history on the Spurt. There's some great footage from the Go Pro helmet cameras and from shore that is still being processed, although some is up at teamfli.com.

Not five minutes into the river my legs were trapped between a rock and something else. Eventually the current brought me around and freed me but it was frightening. It shook me and I ended up portaging around a bunch of stuff afterwards. I was a little disappointed in myself - that will always be a blank spot in my memory... but I wasn't used to the board or the set up with this vest. The board has large hips that hold you in and you have to turn it with your whole body, not just your hands like a Kern board.
There is some awesome video of this run at http://www.teamfli.com

Photos: FaceLevel.com

The river was lower than the last time Josh ran it so it was really rocky and technical. I just wasn't ready. In spite of being travel-weary exhausted the night before I didn't sleep much again. Adrenaline. Hate the stuff. Sometimes.

Barba Roja dinner

Patio with a view

Manuel Antonio. Look what replaced the coconut stand that was there in '92.

con señoras locales

We had dinner in Manuel Antonio, at this great place with a fine view, the Barba Roja. It was too late to hike out to the lighthouse as we had hoped; the snakes come out at night. I had some beer with my dinner, the local Pilsen. The mahi burger was to die for. Josh was guessing all the hot girls there were from Argentina. From there we made a quick stop in Manuel Antonio. We didn't go into the park as it was late, but stopped at the strip mall and got ice cream. Well the guys did. Dairy is also off the diet. We came home afterwards and cleaned up a bit and around 11:30 pm went out to the only Sat. night disco wthin 40 miles. Loud thumping mixed rasta and disco beats, mostly young people. I felt a little old but it was okay. In spite of all the talk on the way over we mostly hung together. We had a round of shots first, tequila I think, I don't know I just sort of downed it. Then a little beer. I tried to get away from the music to have a conversation with Alex, but it was still loud even in the parking lot, though better, I didn't have to shout too much. There's not exactly any walls to the disco. They don't believe in the those things in Costa Rica, unless you have close neighbors, but even then... all bets are off for privacy. I thought one of our group snored, but it turned out to be the guy next door. I wore earplugs and missed the more entertaining morning sounds coming from the neighbors to the south.

On drive back to Josh's we listened to some found Ipod that had a lot of country and rap and really bad crap. The iPod owner was a gal from Oklahoma. Maybe they just don't have good radio there. Billy Ray Cyrus, for example. Josh said Billy was stupid for letting his daughter date a 20 year old. I said yeah but Billy's good looking and he's a DILF. (I've never heard of the term; it just came to me in a punchy moment.) The stars were out bright and I watched them out the open window most of the way back to the house in this land free of light pollution.

The night before I slept on thin sofa cusions and did not get very comfortable. Kevin graciously gave up a thicker foam pad for me for which I am very grateful. No one wanted for force Josh out of his own bed, having slept on the couch cushions the previous couple weeks for his mom. I was more comfortable on the foam but kept waking up. I just am not a good sleeper in a foreign place, but amazingly I never felt too run down.

Next!

Costa Rica

2009-02-03T00:32:00.000-08:00

[Foreword]

This is a personal blog I keep for my own entertainment and story telling and is not affiliated with Face Level Industries or any of its subsidiaries. This trip to Costa Rica was the prize for the winner of Face Level's 2008 Riverboarding Championships, Alex Koutzoukis, and made possible by Josh Galt and Face Level. The content herein contains reflections from my own bad memory and sometimes skewed perspective, assisted somewhat by the order and dates of photographs and videos. Those photos and videos were taken by myself, Josh Galt, Kevin Yount and Alex Koutzoukis. I do believe I gave heed that anything that happened in Costa Rica wasn't going to stay in Costa Rica; it was potential material for my blog. But since it's my blog, this is mostly about me, and might not reflect the opinions or memories of the others. That said, I have the utmost love and respect for Josh, Alex and Kevin and will honor any requests for edits or corrections.

I arrived in Costa Rica January 15th, fairly late, and the wait to go through the luggage xray was longer than the flight. Or so it felt. Can't see out the doors to know if my escorts are waiting. I was very relieved to hear my name and see the familiar faces of Josh and Kevin, whom I hadn't seen since the Gorge Games the July prior. We stayed near San Jose in Heredia. We camped out in the living room of a quaint house on an old coffee plantation; friends of Josh lives there, Andres and Serena, and they had some really delicious chicken waiting.

January 16th.

Relaxing on the patio.

Loaded up the car, bid farewells to our hosts and hopped on the narrow road to the airport, which stalled about 1 km from it because of this. The traffic just did not move although I'm sure the car was operable and the motorcycle not heavy; they were just sitting there at the curb. We sat here for quite a while - that's our rig with the gear. One more person's stuff had to fit in but somehow we made it. Alex had already gotten out of the craziness of the customs inspection and was waiting for us, although we didn't notice him right away.

Progress was somewhat slow on the narrow winding roads mostly because of busses that plodded along at about 25 miles per hour up the hills. They were nearly impossible to pass; to do so was to ignore the blind corner. About a 50 foot straightaway was all you had to work with, and our vehicle, loaded as it was, was somewhat gutless. But it gave us plenty of time to figure things out like the fact that Alex doesn't think all Britney Spears songs completely suck, at least her later stuff. Fortunately he didn't have any of her on his I-pod, which replaced my I-pod because most all my songs are similar male vocals in the same key with deep lyrics and somewhat mellow compositions. Except for the stuff like M83 and Ulrich Schnauss but it didn't seem like good driving music at the time.

Later in the trip, I did offer up one music rule that was unanimously approved: No Jack Johnson. I do admit (now.. haha) to owning one album, and even talking to him in an airport, but his irritatingly trite lyrics and simple melodies can try the simplest of minds.

We made it to Jaco and I didn't recognize anything about the place at all. When I was there in October of 92, I just remember stopping by and meeting up with another couple of travellers who happened to be down there who we knew. Tom was having a hard time because they were also traveling with this other couple who was more about the journey than the destination, and Tom wanted to surf. Like me. I did surf at Jaco and it was dark sand and big waves that closed out. There were one or two restaurants there but I don't remember a whole lot else. Now there are high-rises and a dirty touristy kind of ghetto. Basically the place sucks; you shouldn't even surf there because the water is so polluted with sewage. They built for tourists but forgot the infrastructure. Hungry, we picked a restaurant that looked safe and had a view of the street where we could keep an eye on the vehicle. Can you see it in the background?

Photo: FaceLevel.com

Conversation revolved around the temperature of the earth and how in 2012 there is supposed to be some cataclysmic event. Alex was of the opinion that there is global warming going on and the others of us are less convinced. Climate change, yes, cycles, yes, but pollution that is causing all these crazy weather patterns? Not likely. The poor kid is outnumbered but we will be kind to him.

After lunch we looked at the suset and took some pictures. The most brilliant part had already past but we still got in some pink. There were small surfable waves and only a couple souls were braving the eColi.

Now the road was dirt, with river on one side down 20-30 feet and no guardrail. The bridges are a little crazy; railroad ties with metal and not much else to hold it together. I do remember some crazy bridges. I just don't remember the dirt road, I thought it was further south, but after 16 years it's hard to recall exactly what things looked like.

We made a stop at a fruit stand and ate some of the sweetest pineapple I've had. We had to tell the proprietor that we wanted one that would be eaten the next day to avoid an overripe fruit. Overripe pineapple. Not something you really ever find in the Pacific Northwest.

In Dominical we stopped briefly at a store then headed up this ridiculously steep hill to Josh's place, which is a gorgeous feat of architecture perched with a view of the ocean, although it is night and we can't see it. There is a small but deep pool and we go for a swim, and discuss the current state of the sport of riverboarding and the variety of personalities in the sport. I lament that I don't have women to compete against, although I don't mind competing against the guys as long as I beat one or two of them :).

The crickets are chirping loudly, bats are flying overhead and I am showered. I hope that I sleep better tonight. I did not sleep well the night before heading to Seatac in anticipation of the whole thing. I did not sleep very comfortably on the couch last night, although it was better than the thin floor mats. I'm still pretty pumped full of adrenalin and I don't think there is any alcohol here. So far no one has even ordered a beer.

Tomorrow we riverboard on a first descent of El Chorro. Should be fun. If I can get some rest!

Next (day 2)

A week late and $500 short

2009-01-08T16:51:00.000-08:00

I never started out this year saying that I wanted to lose weight, quit smoking (I don't anyway), exercise more (I hate exercise), get more rest, travel, or change careers. And most of these things aren't going to happen but some are, not that I set them up as a goal or anything, they just happened into my life and I said yes to them.

I have the least amount of energy of anyone I know. I could not get out of bed in the morning if the house was on fire. They'd find my happily snoozing corpse between my feather bed mattress topper and my down comforter. Or maybe just my teeth, if the fire was really bad. Oh sure I set my alarm, go through the motions of hitting the snooze button, to drag myself up an hour later with a head feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds and legs that don't want to move. Usually I make some coffee and that helps a little.

Part of my commute involves uphill and stairs. The alternative is to stay on the bus, which is the better option when the weather sucks, like it does here most of the time. But if it's not drenching rain or icy, I'll walk up a pretty steep hill then tackle six full flights of stairs instead of taking the germ-ridden elevator or transit sneeze farm.

New Years Eve I was wandering around the square in downtown Santa Fe and I had a long chat with my good friend in Wyoming. She was going on about getting rid of all addictive substances in her life. The way she got off nicotine was to make a bet with a friend that if either of them lit up or chewed, the other one would be given $1000. So far I believe she's clean, but she hasn't heard from her friend.

So then she starts talking about getting off of sugar and coffee, and somehow or other I agreed to go in on a similar bet, for $500. It's great motivation. Tea is fine, and I'm guessing honey and pure maple syrup are okay; just none of that processed crap. I had my last drink around 9:30 pm on New Years Eve, a hot buttered rum. I came home a couple of days later with a stomach bug, so there really hasn't been any temptation except for the organic coffee lurking in my freezer. Along with one round wrapped chocolate candy that will have to wait. And I forewent (is that a word?) the cookies Delta offered in place of dinner for some peanuts. I got in so late after a zillion delays that I made the airline put me up in a hotel. The hotel had a breakfast bar with the usual crap cereal and bagels; luckily they had hard boiled eggs and oranges. Hard boiled eggs with microscopic pieces of shell that you didn't notice til you bit into them, and the orange was dry.

Tuesday night I had terrible munchies. I overcame them with a bowl of hot slow cooked oatmeal laced with honey. Yesterday I found myself starving at work, although I thought I'd brought myself plenty of food to eat. Today I brought extra crackers and that has helped keep me full. Two people brought in cookies, one brought home-made chocolate chip cookies (my favorite!), and I looked at them as foreign bodies or rocks. Not edible. No interest. Very very strange.

One of the nice things about being in New Mexico was coming back but being on mountain time. I awoke on Tuesday and was out of bed by 6:30 without an alarm. But Wednesday I still got up early but not without the alarm. Then I stayed up too late on the computer and today was one of those mornings where the fire department would have been picking pieces of my flesh out of the mattress. Perhaps my 2009 resolution should be to be in bed by 10 on weeknights. My energy is almost as bad as when I stayed home sick on Monday. Maybe I still have a bit of the virus that got my intestines. Getting more sleep would certainly help, anyway.

Conference 101

2008-10-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I attended a conference in Seaside, Oregon for the Surfrider Foundation training. I'm a somewhat active member, previous board member, in our local Bellingham WA chapter. Surfrider was paying for our hotel and some food and it was at the beach. Enticement enough.

The enticement ended where the conference began. It was held in a hotel basement. We were shown no movies. We played no games, not even any silly mixers to meet everyone. The only interaction was you raised your hand to ask a question to prompt moderated discussion. 9am - 4pm underground on the nicest sunniest day of the whole weekend with a swell peaking mid-day.

Our de-facto president is resigning after this event. My roommate got upset about how they handled the Snowrider project. The whole thing was a buzz kill and I learned very little. Power point presentations put me to sleep. The media presenter gave bullet points but no visual examples. Media for crying out loud! that should have been the easiest presentation to make interesting.

There were no group activities, no surf sessions, no beach walks, not even any drunkenness or debauchery, which is fine, but past events have been sponsored by Fish Tale Ale. Hello?

Sorry Surfrider, but you really let me down.

How to read between the lines of news.

2008-10-01T12:04:00.000-07:00

Pretty gruesome story here if you don't even think about it too hard.

I learned a bit of information about this crash from someone who knew someone who happened upon the scene, decided it was too nasty to continue, turned around and went back to I-5.

The investigators probably weren't sure if he was wearing a helmet until they found the helmet. Think about why they didn't find the helmet at first. Aren't motorcycle helmets designed to stay on during a crash? Think about it some more. The helmet probably stayed on during the crash. They couldn't find the helmet.

Think about it some more.

Getting the picture?

It gets better

2008-09-08T21:22:00.000-07:00

so the point of my complaining to customer service regarding my customer experience was that those dickheads were lying to me about the server being down just to get rid of me. Apparently whoever spent ten seconds glancing at my transcript came to completely the wrong conclusion...

Dear Ms. Parry,

Thank you for contacting the Comcast Office of Rick Germano, Senior Vice
President of Customer Operations regarding the problems you experienced
with your Online account. My name is Leslie and I thank you for this
opportunity to assist you.

I can understand your frustration when you tried to pay the balance on
your account online but were unable to. We sometimes experience issues
with our servers that allow information to pass between the Comcast.com
website and our billing program. A block or loss of connectivity will
prevent your payment information from traveling to our Billing
Department and you will receive an error message or alert stating that
your information cannot be sent. When such a problem occurs, our
Website Developers work as quickly as possible to correct the problems
so that our customers are not inconvenienced any longer than necessary.
Once the issue is resolved then the information can once again travel
along the secure pathways between you and our offices.

Our Online chat representatives work within an intranet system where
there only access to an internet connection is through the chat program.
They are unable to send out emails from the technical support office.
Outages are monitored in another department which then posts a listing
of the problem through another intranet program. This is then viewed by
our representatives when a customer chats in regarding a related issue.

We value your feedback and I would be happy to pass on the suggestion of
an automated email notification when Outages are resolved to our
Planning Committee for future consideration.

Thank you Ms. Parry for telling us about your experience and we hope
that we can work to restore your confidence in Comcast and so that all
future contacts are positive ones. Thank you for choosing Comcast.

Sincerely,

WTF! I wrote back saying that they completely missed my point about being lied to; the notification of outages was a total side issue and not what I was complaining about.

Thanks for responding, but you completely missed my point in sending in the transcript.

I WAS able to pay. I never got any of the connectivity messages you mention in your email. Please review the transcript because I copied the error message there.

The payment DID go through. Which means the server WAS NOT DOWN though I was repeatedly told that it WAS.

I was getting an error saying that I was trying to pay more than the balance on my account, and I was asking about that. Because of that error message, the online chat people just ASSUMED THE SERVER WAS DOWN WITHOUT ACTUALLY INVESTIGATING.

If the server were actually DOWN, MY PAYMENT WOULD NOT HAVE GONE THROUGH. Does that make any sense to you at all?

My real issue is that THEY WERE LYING TO ME TO GET RID OF ME.

Do they really think I'm that stupid? When I figured out that THEY WERE LYING TO ME AND DIDN'T REALLY KNOW THE ISSUE AT HAND they ended the chat. Poof. Gone.

THAT is why I wrote. Thanks for passing on the suggestion about outages and servers and whatnot but that is totally an irrelevant side issue in my complaint.

Rochelle

Comcast technical support: managed by dufuses?

2008-09-08T12:50:00.000-07:00

Live Chat
Connected Status: Analyst Scott is here and your issue status is: working
Problem: I'm getting an error message that you don't have the amount due I'm trying to pay.

I'm getting an error message that you don't have the amount due I'm trying to pay.

Hello Rochelle_, Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support. My name is Scott. Please give me one moment to review your information.

Please give me a moment while I access your account information.

Are you trying to pay online?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:29:50 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

y

Rochelle_

not sure how else I would get an error message.

Scott

There is also a pay-by-phone option.

Rochelle_

I don't want to do that. I've been trying to use the online payment for months.

Rochelle_

Now I'm getting an error.

Rochelle_

I"ve never had trouble paying any other bills online

Scott

I understand that, I was just letting you know how else you could get an error code.

Rochelle_

ok

Rochelle_
it's not a code, it's a javascript message

Rochelle_

well not about javascript but it drops down from the screen which I assume is activated using js

Scott

We are currently having technical difficulties with our online billpay system. Our technicians are aware of it and are working on it. There is currently no estimated resolution time.

Scott

I am sorry for the inconvenience.

Rochelle_

So if I ignore the message will my account get paid or not?

Scott

Not at this time. Please check back later.

Rochelle_

oh good grief.

Rochelle_

can I please be sent an email when the system is working again?

Scott

I'm sorry, I have no way of doing that.

Rochelle_

I get lots of other email from Comcast

Rochelle_

I'm sure there's a way for someone to type in my email address and hit "send" with a short message.

Scott

I understand. Unfortunately, I have no access to email.

Rochelle_

Someone there does.

Rochelle_

Put me on with them.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:37:07 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

you have internet access. I can give you my email.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:37:14 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Otherwise how do you do this chat?

Scott(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:37:33 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I have access to chat, but I do not have access to email.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:37:43 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

someone there does

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:37:47 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

put me on with them, please

Scott(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:38:01 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Just a moment, please.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:38:12 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

you're an internet service provider and you don't have email. Now I"ve heard everything.

analyst Scott has left room

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:40:06 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

How may I help you?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:40:32 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I just want someone to let me know when your online bill payment is working.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:41:26 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

If there is a problem with the server or the site, There is know way we can let you personally know when it will be back up.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:41:40 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

And why is that?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:42:18 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'm trying to give you guys my money. I guess they don't need it very much.,

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:43:25 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I can take a payment here if you wish.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:43:31 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

No charge,

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:43:54 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'm 90% done entering all the info to pay online

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:44:13 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'd like to complete it.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:44:42 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

The last three months I've tried to pay using an online system and ended having to pay some other way.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:44:49 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

is the system ever working?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:45:05 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I do understand but I can't tell you when it will be up.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:45:15 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

you haven't told me why.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:47:55 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Yes the system is up most of the time, I can't tell you when it will be up.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:48:20 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

But certainly someone can let me know when it's BACK up and working.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:48:36 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

You're an internet service provider and you cannot communicate with your customers?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:49:45 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I can't call you and personally let you know when it will be working. sorry.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:49:50 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Is there anything else I may do for you?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:50:04 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

How about an email.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:50:45 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I can't send you an Email either sorry.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:50:58 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

and why is that?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:51:50 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

You will just have to check back in a couple of hours to see if the server is up.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:52:12 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

That's not very helpful.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:52:43 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

That is all I can tell you.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:52:48 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

is there somewhere on your web site I can go to see if the server is up before I enter truckloads of information to pay my bill

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:52:49 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:53:34 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

No am sorry, no.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:54:13 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Then someone should send me an email letting me know your service is available. IF there was an internet outage they would do that wouldn't they?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:55:18 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

This is the error message, says nothing about a server being down:

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:55:19 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

You are attempting to pay more than the current balance owed. If this is correct, select the OK button. If this is incorrect, select CANCEL and re-enter the payment.

*Note: If you are a new Comcast customer, you may be receiving this message because we do not currently have accurate information on your amount due. Please refer to your paper bill to confirm the correct amount and hit OK to continue.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:55:40 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'm not a new customer.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:55:50 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'm not attempting to pay more than what is owed.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:56:03 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'm concerned that my account is not lining up with the bill pay service.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:56:38 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

When did you set up your on line payment?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:57:21 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Hard to tell. Told me I had an invalid account, so I plugged in my acct. info instead of deleting the profile, then had to confirm it with the email

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:58:19 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Did u recieve the confirmation.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:58:23 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

yes

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:58:27 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

it's activated

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 14:58:52 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

That was exactly when.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 11:59:15 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

shortly after Mon Sep 8 10:59:38 2008

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:00:44 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Did the system let you log in?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:00:50 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

yes

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:04:33 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

still there?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:05:31 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Yes please log out and refresh your internet explorer.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:05:46 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'm not using IE

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:05:49 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Delete you cashe

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:05:58 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

tell you what I'll use Safari

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:06:00 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

And try to log back in?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:06:05 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

never logged in with that one

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:06:09 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

That is fine

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:06:40 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

That will be fine.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:08:15 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I'm getting the same error.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:08:26 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

You are attempting to pay more than the current balance owed. If this is correct, select the OK button. If this is incorrect, select CANCEL and re-enter the payment.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:11:08 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

one moment please

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:13:36 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I can take that payment here if you wish.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:14:07 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Am I getting the error message because of the server or because of my account?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:14:57 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

The server is the most likely cause.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:15:21 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

But I take a payment it will go directly to your account also

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:16:33 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

i'd be more comfortable going through the web site

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:16:59 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

It will be just as secure.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:17:47 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I just want it to work

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:18:09 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I do understand

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:19:00 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

If you could please try it in about 4 hours. It should be up,

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:19:13 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I clicked "okay" instead of cancel and here's what's weird:

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:19:20 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Your Comcast account number: 8498300011542921
Amount due: $0.00

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:22:09 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Your balance is :47.40 is due the end of the month.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:22:34 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

and that's what I"m trying to pay... if I hit 'authorize' what will happen?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:23:12 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

It will process as a credit.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:23:47 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

so the server isn't down.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:24:34 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

It must have been a glitch in the system but you got there.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:25:18 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

why would you tell me the server was down? should i try to authorize it?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:26:05 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Yes authorize

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:27:46 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

okay I did, now if the server was down, how could that have processed?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:28:01 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I can '

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:28:47 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

I can't see what you do ? You give us information, an if it doesn't work the site could be down.

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:29:10 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

but you don't know for sure? you don't make a phone call to another office?

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:29:40 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

But if you get in and it lets you process the payment it might have be a simple typing error.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:29:48 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Is there anything else I may do for you?

Rochelle_(Mon Sep 08 2008 12:29:53 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

no, it was no typing error.
You can tell how you know if the server is down or not.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:29:58 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

If you could please, take a moment after this chat, to complete the survey. It has been my pleasure to serve you today. You can contact Comcast 7 days a week 24 hours a day, by calling 1800COMCAST or 1-800-266-2278, or here on the live chat. Have a geat day! Thank you for contacting Comcast Live chat support.

Michael(Mon Sep 08 2008 15:30:02 GMT-0700 (PDT))>

Analyst has closed chat and left the room

analyst Michael has left room

(he actually left the room before I got in "You can tell how you know if the server is down or not")

Scootin' around

2008-09-05T21:47:00.000-07:00

I have a Baja SC50 scooter that barely makes it up the hills but you know, for being able to get around and park it easily and not break a sweat, sometimes it's nice. I find I am missing the autonomy and freedom of bike riding, and the mini-workout I get from the bus stop to the top of the hill at work, so I won't be using it every day.

As long as I can keep from getting smacked into by another vehicle it'll be a worthwhile means of transit. And pretty cheap. I just wish it went a little faster, so I didn't block people's way in traffic.

Morning sounds and human behavior

2008-08-08T14:44:00.000-07:00

Roosters typically start crowing around midnight, and stop about 11:59pm. If you're lucky enough, you can avoid hearing them for one full minute per day. I suppose the myth about roosters crowing at sunrise took hold because nothing else is making noise at 4:30 am except for those worthless birds. The rest of the day they are drowned out by diesel engines, dogs, cows, sound systems, drive by broadcasts and children.

As humans we appear genetically predisposed to mimicry, which is why you need to be careful what words you use around your offspring. When we age and mature the tendency to mimic doesn't seem to die very much; which is why it can be very easy to pick up a dialect. A certain amount of impulse control does develop in the more intelligent of our species; a judgment that says stop, wait, don't imitate that. No need.

As our van ambled up the dirt road at 5:30 am with the shrill crow of the rooster penetrating our opened windows, my first impulse was to crow back, but I stifled it. Others in our vehicle could not. Why is this? Is it why dogs howl at sirens? Why we cheer at football games? why we follow along with songs? Is it all just basic instinct mimicry unbridled by better judgment?

The one annoying sound that humans do not mimic is the aneurysm-causing earthquake of a baby's cry. Although, I think that if an adult could replicate that sound, we would, and people would give us money to stop. The closest we've managed to come to it is the trunk-filled sub-woofer.

Perhaps that's also why I have difficulty being around the Bus Stop People, those with uncontrollable tics, shakes, and repetitious body motions. There's nothing there I want to emulate and it sends a message of rejection through my core. Don't look at that! don't be THAT! don't mimic THAT ! We need positive influences in our lives to want to be better sometimes. I found little I wanted to emulate on the El Salvador part of this trip. Only perhaps our former professional surfer, who exhibited a greater depth of character, humility, grace and playfulness than one normally sees in surfers, was an inspiration.

Worst Advertising Display EVER

2008-08-07T14:29:00.000-07:00

Take a close look:

Sorry bout the flash burst. I only had one pic before my batteries died.
You got this girl spewing some kind of frozen blood particles out of her mouth. They seem to loop around a bit before connecting with another blood spurt coming out of the coca cola bottle.
Then there's that hideous chunk of liver with legs sticking its tongue out at me. And a disembodied eyeball getting a fix on the whole spectacle, wishing it could shut, but alas, it has no eyelid.

If this is what coke does to you, good thing I didn't have any on the trip.
The placement seems to suggest that if you buy the coke, you might need the product displayed below it...

Perfection

2008-08-01T11:52:00.000-07:00

Wednesday Day 12

Perfection in a wave was found yesterday at Punta Mango (see photos from previous post). The boat ride was fun; we had to wait out a set at the point and then point the boat into the whitewater which launched the vessel partly into the air. It was about a 20 minute ride and another boat had already disembarked. All in all three boats were out there and about 20 people. It was hard to catch waves once again.

I did manage to get a few. My first big one I was afraid to pull in. It looked like it was going to close out on my so I pulled out, but I probably should have gone for the barrel. It's a heavy wave and if you get hit with the lip it can hurt. I was nervous most of the time. It was really hot out and I went for water once. At 8:30 the sun was punishing and there was not a trace of wind. Beautiful spot though; nothing on the coastline except rocks and trees and green hills. My muscles were hurting and a cramp was trying to form in one of my calves. This perfect wave was a little much for me, going on a night of zero sleep. Eventually I crawled into the boat, found some foam padding, propped up my bodyboard for shade and tried to sleep on the bottom.

I ended up in that room with three other gals. Mike had gotten a room for himself and two teenage girls. Uh-huh. Mic, the rather large guy, also wanted to sleep in a room that night instead of a hammock. So John moved the gals in with me and moved Mic and Goggles in with Mike. Mike is a very hyper guy who didn't finish high school. And his logic evades most of us. For instance, he noticed that people drive very fast and there's no highway patrol. Because of that he figured that the government must really care about its people because it doesn't get money from them from speeding tickets. Um, right. That's why there's no sidewalks -- most of the people, who don't even have a car, have to walk on the shoulder with trucks going by at 60mph. That's why there's dirt roads everywhere and poverty and orphans and... and... anyway. Because the govt. cares so much.

A huge, close and very very loud electrical and rainstorm moved in after dark. At first I thought someone was dragging something very heavy across cement. No, it was thunder. The Erikas were so freaked out by it they screamed and fell on the floor then ran outside then back inside. I told them they had to stop screaming or they were going to have to sleep in the hammocks again! Apparently they didn't get any sleep out there either. I put on my cd (was able to recharge the batteries in the room) to a "Relaxing Thundering Rainstorm" so I couldn't tell what was nature and what was memorex, at least for awhile, The sound of the rain on the roof was lovely and I drifted off til 6am.

This morning I paddled out at the point at Los Flores. There was just a little bit of a bump on it and smaller, but still clean. Caught a few good waves, although what might have been one of my best, my shorts created drag on the water and I got behind the peak. I didn't want to use the lycra that early in the morning but it seems to be the only thing that works. If I use just my bathing suit, a two-piece, my bottoms get ripped downwards by the force of the wave. I managed to put my rash guard over the shorts and tuck the ends of the shorts under my bathing suit. That seemed to take care of it.

Turns out I didn't have to pay for the room after all. Somehow John found money to cover all but $1. Getting that room was the best decision I made this entire trip.

On the way back we were able to save some time by fording a river. The bridge is under construction. I guess the water levels were low enough to drive through it. The whole way back, I was in the very back bench seat, which is also where the subwoofers are. The people in the front played this nasty disco crap most of the way home with a very loud base. I don't get this kind of music. The young ones seemed to love it and danced in their seats. I kept begging them to turn it down but they just laughed at me. It rattled my brain. Luckily the trip was over and we're back at the house, the house without any screamy teenage girls. I even got a few decent pictures of me on a wave.

Myself with a guy we'd met at El Zonte, who came down for the better quality surf at Los Flores.

Los Flores

2008-08-01T11:32:00.000-07:00

Tuesday Day 9.

I'm kind of over it. This whole business of waking up at 4:30 to wait for transportation that arrives 45 minutes late just to fight waves and figure out how to get a good one in a crowd. Today's transportation hiccup was boats. The largest of our group couldn't go because the boat would probably sink. These were very simple fishing boats with outboard motors and a few benches. He is that big... so big his stomach is split and his butt crack sticks out of his surf trunk when he paddles.

Last night was another hellish night of crazy tired but no sleep. Up at 4:45 for some really magnificent waves. At that place I cannot mention. Only, Goggles had a huge problem with the way I caught a wave, and hopped me intentionally to teach me something. I was furious at him and he wouldn't budge his position, so I paddled north and caught some really nice big ones by myself. It was something about taking turns. The problem is on a bodyboard, nobody gives you a turn so you just go when something comes up.

The day before we'd surfed twice at K59. Three of the four treks from the van to the beach I ended up walking alone. We later discovered that someone had been robbed there, it wasn't safe. Great. Another great wave we cannot go to. When I got out of the water a local guy talked to me, he'd liked my waves. I kept an eye on my fins but he seemed cool. I was so tired anyone could have taken me. Half way up the walk to the van I got a ride in the back of a pickup truck. One of the guys spoke fluent English so I was able to tell them to stop when we passed the van.

After the Monday morning session we visited children in this huge orphanage, giving the kids squirt guns and playing with them. A church group from Missouri was doing construction; the already large place was growing. Mostly kids end up there because their parents can't afford to keep them. Anna took over a class for a few minutes and taught the kids to say "John is hairy."

That morning's surf I almost felt like my legs were getting used to all this activity. I arrived cut and bruised from riverboarding and will leave with infections and more bruises. The busted up finger isn't bothering me too much, but it's still very sore to touch. I vow when I get home to exercise, then this sort of vacation won't be too draining.

After the orphanage and lunch, we piled into the vans and headed south. Just outside San Salvadore we saw a man we'd talked with from El Zonte. I guess he heard the swell was big and decided to drive down too. So Punta Roca is the second best wave in El Salvador. Today we discovered #1.

We're staying at a surf resort at Los Flores. It's a large outdoor restaurant and bar with a bunch of hammocks strung up, pool, and some hotel rooms. John thought we could all sleep in the hammocks. Problem was, the Brazilians there picked that night to stay up til 2:30 hollering and partying as loud as they could be, and the room I ended up in didn't have a/c so we coudln't shut the windows. I'd hoped to get one of the back rooms with air conditioning; a guy from Vancouver named Sasha started talking to me and said they had an extra bed. A couple hours later I asked his cousin if I could stay there and he said he wasn't comfortable with it. My batteries in my cd player were dead and my fan had quit working (turns out it was just bad batteries, something a $7 investment would have taken care of.) Around 3am a loud engine roared, tires squealed and the noise abated... just in time for the snoring to kick in as I was sharing a room with four men. I got about 15 minutes of sleep when John came in and told us to get ready to go to the boat.

Which is why today I don't mind paying $65 for my own room. If I get someone to share it great, it will be cheaper. It's huge. Concrete and rock floor, oriental rugs, hand hewn wooden queen bed and full-sized bunk bed. Big ole shower with river rock and concrete. For a few hours I relished in the privacy of quiet air conditioning and a good firm bed.

Exhaustion

2008-08-01T11:30:00.000-07:00

Sunday. Day 7. I haven't felt this exhausted from physical exertion in a very long time. Let it be known, this isn't really a vacation in the vactaiony sense of the word. Unless getting up at the crack of dawn every day to push your body to its limits seems restful. If it does, you are a navy seal and you have my utmost respect.

Last night I wanted to write more but Anna turned out the light, which I figure is fine because my laptop is illuminated and the keys are all backlit. But not a second had passed when a nasty ugly flying bug was drawn to the light of my monitor! Not wanting a bug in my computer I brushed it away, closed it and slept very, very hard.

Having a few issues with the group dynamics here. Sometimes I feel like I have to really look out for myself; people just aren't all that helpful except the paid help - they've been my saving factor this entire trip. Today there was a bit of confusion because one van was going back to the house, another was staying for lunch and then surfing. I mentioned to someone, I thought, that I wanted to stay. I'd been in the other van to run to the pharmacy to get some synthroid because I forgot mine. Been taking the same stuff for a couple years every single day and I forgot it. It wasn't too much - $11, but I had to buy 75 pills. I only needed nine. Oh well, so much for eating out today (my budget is about $10/day). I did manage to buy a frozen coconut bar, my fav. They're only $0.40 here and really good quality. After I move my stuff I'm looking around for everyone and they've sort of disappeared into the fray. It's a narrow dirt street with shops and restaurants on both sides leading to the beach, with restaurants lining the beach as well. I looked at all the places we'd been earlier that day to get ready for and to host the free surf contest for the local kids, but no groupo. I went back to the van and found Julio nearby and he said they were in the internet cafe. I looked there and no group. I went back, and Julio found them in another restaurant upstairs. I said, Just once I'd like to know where everyone is going! They said they thought I was going back to the house in the other van.

I ordered a Limonade which tasted and had the texture of a virgin margarita. Not bad for $1. I had enough change left over just for that.

After lunch those of us who wanted to surf went to a spot I really cannot name because it's kind of a secret. Access is limited; we know a hotel owner who lets us use his access. It takes me awhile to gear up because I cover myself head to toe in lycra. The only thing getting tanned on this trip are my hands. And yes it looks funny. But not any funnier than the long scars on my legs and shoulders from having bits of skin cancer removed. So by the time I got to the beach everyone was in the water, only I could not see them. I saw two guys out at a beach break and thought maybe that was them, to the south of me. I followed fresh footprints and jumped in what looked like a channel, only to get completely pummeled by the waves hitting a sandbar. I took a wave in.

Then two other bodyboarders started to head out and I started out further south and made it to the outside. But the guys surfing out there weren't from our crew. I looked north towards the point and sure enough, barely made out a few heads bobbing in the water. I decided to paddle over rather than fight that sandbar again, although it probably would have been faster to walk.

The waves were really nice I thought, still heading the wrong direction for me, but it was easy to get back out and only a few thrashed me. Sean, our representative from the world of professional surfing, hopped me on one wave and said he didn't see me. I said sometimes it seems like I'm not going to make the wave but usually I do. He let me have another one that he could have easily taken. It was a really good wave. I thanked him for it.

I didn't surf this morning because I figured I needed a day off, or at least a morning off. I slept pretty well last night in spite of a painfully stiff neck and an arm that feels like it's going to drop off my shoulder any minute. I missed the van going to the beach and walked down an hour later. Chad was still sick and really bumming about it.

The surf contest seemed to go pretty well although it was a bit of a late start. They had it where no one was surfing or swimming; mostly really big close-out waves. Some of the smaller ones were more surfable. I listened as Sean spoke to Erika about surfing in competitions as he's a full time coach now. He was on the pro tour and was top ten. He's on the cover of SURFER June 1993. I think I remember it, oddly enough. Said it was really freaky the way it happened. They were out at the power plant near Rosarito, which I've never gotten all that great. He said it was junky but they'd come all that way so why not just go out and get a few. Then the wind turned, the clouds parted, the swell picked up... and the photographer got some great shots not only for the cover but an inside spread as well.

In spite of all the exposure and success on the tour, money started dropping out around then as it did for a lot of things. Not able to keep up their commitments his sponsors were shorting him and he had a wife and two kids. He was offered a job managing a retail surfing store and took it. I believe recently he was laid off from that, but does surf coaching full time.

Another time I came in from a very long session and was really cotton-mouthed and dehydrated. There were three unopened bottles of water, dripping with that ice sweat, and a few opened ones at the table of the people from our group who didn't surf that morning. I asked if I could just have a sip, and they told me I could get some in the restaurant. Of course to do that I'd have to go to the van and find money etc. it just looked so inviting and quenching and later I thought to myself, if one of my friends came in from the ocean and wanted a sip of my water, I'd give it to them. Even if there was plenty around the corner in the restaurant window. I'm missing the riverboarding crowd.

Tomorrow at some as yet unappointed time, we head south to Las Flores. John has budgeted for us to sleep in hammocks. Obviously I won't be bringing my computer if we have no security besides the van and probably no electricity. Someone else who had gone there on the weekend said the beach lodgings were completely booked. I'm kind of hoping that there aren't enough hammock spaces and we might have to get rooms of some kind. We haven't been briefed on what we should bring or what to expect; all I know is we're supposed to do two boat trips and there are surf breaks in the area for those who don't go on the off day. We're going to stay two nights. I'm not sure if we're supposed to go surfing in the morning or not. These days I just take it as it comes, and sometimes as it doesn't.

El Zonte

2008-08-01T11:18:00.000-07:00

Saturday. Awoke in the fuzzy state of not knowing the time, and unable to comprehend my roommate's answer. The watch has glow in the dark dots on its hour and minute analog pointers, but without my reading glasses they don't tell me much. Within 15 minutes I was ready to go, and four of us plus Julio headed north. El Zonte looked a bit worse than yesterday, so we continued to K-59. We weren't quite sure how to get there, but after spying it from the highway above, we knew that was the spot we wanted to get to. After a u-turn and a phone call, we headed down a dirt road that could have passed for a driveway, went about 100 yards and stopped at a locked gate.

The walk from there was short but unpaved, partially paved with broken pieces of rock and brick, not the best conditions for leaving everything in the van including shoes. I ended up putting my fins on when I got to the gravel section. There were already a dozen people in the water at 6:30 am at the point. I watched a couple lefts roll in the inside and thought I'd try for those. As I was paddling out a large set came through and I was getting a bit worked, so I pushed outward. Then the current got me and I was almost at the peak. Mike said I should move over and just take the rights. "But I like lefts." "you should get some of these before it gets too crowded." "But I like going left." "There's some really good waves over here." "But I told you, I like going left." There was no getting through.

Eventually I caught a couple, but the majority I was dropped in on and even Mike took off on me on one. One wave I shared, he seemed careful to avoid me but it was hard to enjoy the massive wave with the spray of the shoulder-hopper hitting me in the face. I kept up though, just to prove I wasn't intimidated.

After a couple hours the crowd thinned and I started catching more waves. One wave barrelled over me and I sort of pushed out the bottom and kept going. I positioned myself for another cover up but it was less forgiving and took me for an underwater spin.

Goggles and Ryan walked down the coast for some waves to themselves and got really good barrels. He said it was gnarly and there were a lot of rocks inside.

After returning to the van, which was parked along the highway, and waiting for Goggles and Ryan in a mosquito-heavy area, we came home, ate, and crashed hard. Chad was up but still sick, had been throwing up the last two nights. I took a nap on the top bunk in the boys room. The bed I have I just put the mattress on the floor because the box is realy just wooden slats with a few springs, and I could feel my body slipping down between the slats. This resulted in more neck and back pain. It's wrecking me. I slept fitfully but had some dreams, so I know I did sleep. In one dream we were back in LA and the trip was over and I didn't make the CD of my photos for John. Maybe it means I don't feel like I'm pulling my weight and I want to go home.

About 3:30 we headed out again to K-59. The tide was very low and the waves not nearly as good as earlier, but it was still fun. There was a sandbar that was making the paddle out a lot of work if you had the pleasure to be caught inside. More than once I had to take the whitewater back in to catch the outgoing current and not get thumped. After trying to duck the wave and getting completely held down and twisted underwater, I said to myself "I give up" and thought I'd let the next ball of whitewater take me in. Only instead of taking me in, it just took me, overran me and held me under for what seemed like too long. The next wave was a little nicer to me, and I made it closer to shore.

Yesterday after surfing El Zonte a little smaller than the day before, I went down to the surf shop and internet cafe in Trunco, and paid to use the internet for 1/2 hour. I wish we were closer to Punta Roca. The restaurant there has wireless. Maybe tomorrow I can get a ride there or take the bus.

flash back

2008-07-25T13:22:00.000-07:00

The results are posted for riverboarding. Go to www.facelevel.com and it's under contest or results, shouldn't be hard to find. I'm not on wireless right now so I'm going to wait til I am to update this blog. Just know I'm getting some good waves in warm water and all the accompanying skin problems, except sunburn, because I wear full body rash guard protection. Must look like a kook but I don't need to pay my dermotologist any more than necessary.

Love ya,
Rochelle

El Salvador and another sleepless night

2008-07-23T13:02:00.001-07:00

Continued from http://blog.wayn.com/rochelle-1962

In the bus from the airport after the red-eye:

The house I stayed at two nights:

Checking the surf:

The surf:

Dinner at La Paz beach restaurant:

Day 2 in El Salvador. Got up at 4:30 am for the 5am van which didn't show up to 5:30. A bit disappointing considering how crowded it can get quickly at Punta Roca. It was good, glassy, overhead sets, but inconsistent with a lot of really good locals already on it. Stayed out from 6 - 9:30. One guy broke his board by smacking the lip too hard. It's the only board he brought. A local let him take out his board, which was more generous than we as Americans have come to expect.

I caught enough waves, but because they're all going "right", I felt like a kook. I can barely position myself to catch the tube and can't get up drop-knee to save my life. My goal by the end of the trip is to be able to drop in like I would going left.

Able to write from a place called La Paz with wireless. They're treating a boy who is sponsored through Compassion International to lunch and some surf time. I was too tired after this morning's long session to surf right now, but hope to hit it again this evening. Maybe I'll sleep better. I moved to the other house. The air conditioner has a nervous tick that ticks three times, like the sound of someone hitting a loud switch, every 10 minutes, loud enough to wake me up. I eventually moved into the guy's room and crept into a bottom bunk bed. I couldn't sleep well there because of the movement from above every so often but I got a little. Today I lugged all my junk to the other house. I'll be with the teenage girls, who are all sweet and cute and wear the latest surf fashions and one is so bubbly you don't know if you want to take her home and just let her entertain you with her happiness or show her all the reality of what life is really like down here. I hope some of her energy wears off on me. I've seen too much poverty to think of this place as beautiful, although it does have beauty, there's no middle class. One guy got his sandals stolen off the rocks yesterday. Lots of petty and not so petty crime. Our homes are heavily guarded. Yesterday we saw some policemen beating someone with their sticks, near the beach. So maybe they are cracking down a little harder these days.

In case you're curious the ocean water is about 80 degrees and the air probably in the 90s, it's somewhat humid but hot and humid doesn't bother me too much. There's usually a refreshing breeze in the afternoon. Cold and humid, now that's another story!

Signs of Summer

2008-06-12T10:02:00.000-07:00

This guy says it's a sign of summer when shirtless men pour out of the subway (ewwwww). I say it's when a hiker dies in a blizzard in June. See, he was so sure that summer was just around the corner, how could it possibly turn blizzardy at 10,000 feet? And if he felt that way, so must we all. Luckily the rest of us didn't pay for that miscalculation with our lives.

Indy's Legend of the Plastic Skull

2008-06-01T15:08:00.000-07:00

Ever balled up saran wrap? Then maybe poured resin over it? There you have it, man they spent some big bucks on props there...

Harry Ford is what now, 107 years old? And he looks 50? They really did a job on make up or, he's spent some of his royalties at the same surgeon as Catherine Deneuve.

I just can't see a movie that lives up these days. Saw what was supposed to be a comedy, What Happens in Vegas, and I hardly chuckled once. Then Indy tries to be Caddyshack- what the heck is up with the animated gophers anyway? Those would have been cut if I were director.

I want to see Iron Man but am afraid to spend any more money on the movies. One episode of LOST has been better than anything I've seen on the big screen.

Kids drawings photographically represented

2008-05-22T10:53:00.001-07:00

The site where these are hosted (link above, http://fishki.net/comment.php?id=32304) has soft porn at the bottom so I thought I'd add them here. I can't read anything on the page because it's in russian or something. Artist is Yeondoo Jung.

My new favorite bumper sticker.

2008-04-21T16:36:00.001-07:00

WTFWJD

Mix tapes

2008-04-17T11:10:00.000-07:00

Some of my favorites here http://www.mixwit.com/widgets/3cbb1f78c74d5b4e9833ce8e7757f3cb

go ahead, create your own!

Simply Asia: Noodle Review

2008-04-01T12:51:00.000-07:00

On the way to Crystal Mountain we stopped for coffee at a QFC and I decided to buy a noodle bowl, since my ski buddy had a thermos of hot water. If you click the link at the top, you'll see what I'm supposed to be eating. Looks yummy. Except they don't include the fresh veggies you see there on the side of the bowl. Those were added by the photographer.

And it did taste good, had the Sesame Teriyaki for lunch today, but there are several things that concerned me:

First of all, packaging. A cardboard outer-packaging with printing and instructions (that I should have read), a plastic bowl and lid, a plastic bag of noodles, a foil pack of dehydrated veggies, a plastic bag of sauce, a plastic bag of sesame seeds, plus the bowl itself was wrapped in (what do you think?) plastic.

I thought I would be adding hot water and letting it sit, so at 11:45 I put on water for tea, and when the water was ready, I looked at the box. The only instructions were for heating in the microwave. In the plastic bowl. With the lid on.

Now I think there are enough pollutants and toxins in our food without adding them by microwaving plastic. So I went upstairs and found a glass bowl, which wasn't really large enough but it fit everything. The instructions did say to add two tablespoons of water, so I poured without measuring, figuring these things weren't an exact science. I found another glass bowl to put on top, and started the 2 minute microwave. A minute into it I realized I forgot the dehydrated veggies! So all in all it got three minutes.

After letting it sit then mixing it up again with the provided PLASTIC fork, I was quite hungry and tried to enjoy the savoriness as I wolfed it down. It didn't seem like quite enough, and as I write this I have a lingering sense of hunger. Which brings me to..

Second of all.. According to the packaging, this 8 oz. bowl is supposed to serve two people. Now maybe the veggies didn't quite dehydrate enough, but there was barely enough food for one. And the calorie count? 320. Not bad, except that it's PER SERVING. And there are supposed to be two servings (and if that is really the case why did they only provide ONE FORK and ONE BOWL?

Either there is a terrible mistake on the package, or I've just consumed 640 calories and I feel as full as if I've eaten one rice cake with marmalade. I want a recount. And I want people to stop producing food that has more landfill particles than food particles.

And the bowl? That will go to some use, maybe to store excess paint from my endless home improvement projects.

Mighty Nexus Myths

2008-02-20T11:18:00.000-08:00

Many misconceptions surround the obtaining of a Nexus pass (allows you to use a shorter line at the Canadian/ US border), many of them propagated by their own web site/ GOES registration documentation.

Myth: It takes three months to get a Nexus pass.
Fact: It took me all of two weeks.

Myth: You have to wait months to get an appointment.
Fact: You don't need an appointment. Just fill out the form online, get approved, then head up to the office. More people there didn't have appointments than did, and all were accommodated in the time I was there. I was early for mine but didn't have to wait for the specific time.

Myth: You have to prove that you live at your address.
Fact: They said they don't know why that's stated on their letter.

Myth: You have to show your auto registration.
Fact: They don't care about the car.

Myth: It's only good for five years.
Fact: It expires five years from your next birthday. Plan accordingly.

Myth: It's expensive.
Fact: For Americans it's $50. Compare that to all the wasted hours spent sitting in an idling car.

Weirdness: America recognizes the Nexus pass as proof of residency, like a passport. Canada doesn't, at least not yet.

10 days so far

2008-01-10T11:15:00.000-08:00

The tenth day of a new year is today.
The tenth day without coffee.
The tenth day without processed sugar (honey and maple syrup only).

I'm doing much better with the latter than the former. Every morning I'm tempted to ease the vacancy in my brain with a caffeinated rush. Green tea and tea with a coffee flavor help a little, but I know the difference. It's a poor substitute, very poor indeed.

I've heard it takes three weeks to install a new habit. Or is that three months? I'll give it the three weeks. If the headaches don't go away by then... maybe switch to caffeinated water?

There should be a name for this.

2007-12-05T10:11:00.000-08:00

I live in a geographically interesting area, and the region offers many vistas for a variety of perspectives. But I'll see a building I usually see from street level and swear it should be further over thataway. But maybe it's a different building, just looks like the one I'm thinking of? And why can we see the campus Christmas tree from across town, even though it's behind two towering dormatories? Without the lit tree there, I'd have never known it was possible to see through solid brick buildings.

10 years since

2007-11-30T09:30:00.000-08:00

I left southern California, Orange County, my home base for most of my 35 years, ten years ago in November of 1997. Rented a storage unit and put the rest in the back of my pickup truck. I was so exhausted from the moving I spent an extra night at my sister's place in Las Vegas before making the rest of the drive. I was headed to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, the best ski area in North America, as ski resorts go. I stayed a couple seasons then moved to Washington.

In ten years the cost of living down there has more than doubled; buildings have sprouted up like ugly weeds, and there is still no discernible culture. Only a handful of friends are down there, one aunt; no other family remains. Which is kind of sad considering we all grew up there. And one sister in L.A. but has plans on relocating to the east coast, at some point.

I think about going back, mostly for that handful of friends with whom I share history. I also think about getting a masters degree, perhaps in a foreign country. I look at the box I live in, and although it's nice to own my own place, it's not where true happiness resides. My happiness is more dependent on relational aspects, and the northwest is not just cold in the winter but in its natives and their acceptance of outsiders.

Worst. Movie. Ever: Afghan Knights.

2007-11-25T17:08:00.000-08:00

If by reading this you pass on "Afghan Knights" my mission in life is complete.

Warning: Spoilers. A soldier living in the US is recruited to go back to where they fought and get someone out of the country. Having left one of his crew behind in an earlier war, he agrees. The movie starts out with some seemingly unrelated and poorly weaved but realistic footage of war action, along with some really out of place slaughtering of what must be some kind of monks, and oh wait, there's Genghis Khan. Okay, back to some biker dudes in Reno drinking beer. Before that, one of them having extreme hallucinations with faces popping through walls and people stalking him, resulting in more drinking and firing shots into the ceiling. It's in this state that the guy is asked to go back to Afghanistan.

Failed attempts to be talked out of it, blah blah.

A little trouble at the border at night, well it's not really a border, someone must have known they were coming. One of their party opens fire rather than negotiating. Mess is left, only border guys die.

Target found living underground in what appears to be a lavish lifestyle. Reluctantly he follows his emancipators but has too much crap and too many wives. So he has one shot and takes the other one, only to treat her abusively most of the time.

Can't go back the way they came, what with leaving the bodies and all. Will have to go over the mountains into the next country up there.

Potty break: hm, near a cave, where earlier somewhere we saw what seemed unrelated footage of a boy, a man and a female ghost. They come across a dead boy and a charred man and no ghost. Potty guy, a British dude non one trusts, hangs out near cave entrance while someone else stumbles upon the bodies. Oh what's this! The mountain is crumbling, they're being fired upon. Quick! Into the mountain that seems to be crumbling! Oh no, they're trapped! And who was that woman in white that ran back into the cave? Could we see through her?

Oh look who is there: the guy they left behind! But we find out he's evil! One by one the team is slaughtered, including the guy they were paid to free, although since he was mean to his wife we don't really care. I think the Brit maybe gets it too, but he seems to be the one who got him into this mess so we really don't care. But I can't remember if he gets it or not. The evil dude who was left behind doesn't trust the one who recruited the gang. He thinks it was a set up and he was left behind the first time on purpose.

So now we're chasing ghosts and people are spontaneously combusting and having their livers eaten. Left-behind dude can speak the local language and freaks out the woman saying really scary things. But she can't speak English to tell the other guy what evil guy is saying. With just a few of them left they try to escape the cave.

Our hallucinating hero is shown battling Ghengis Khan with a sword against two armed warriors on white horses. But is he really just standing there slashing at himself? Did HE eat the liver of the gay guy? It shows him eating the liver. Did he burn up the wife-beater? It shows him throwing a flaming blanket over him. When these things first happen we see it as the spirit of Ghengis Khan wants us to see it, that ghosts are doing it. Oh and that boy, who was dead outside the cave, he makes an appearance too. He kills somebody. Or did he?

Final confrontation: It's been at least 24 hours since there's been any contact with their coordinator, who has been shagging some horny prostitute for hours on end back in the camp. When his superior gets wind of the lack of communication he freaks out and demands a rescue. They locate the jeeps by GPS and send aid. Helicopters find them and lower a rope down a high opening in the ceiling of the cave. Meanwhile the dude that was left behind tells the hallucinating rescuer that he has found all this power by accepting the spirit of Ghengis Khan through some dollar-store spear. He said everything was planned for him to come and join him; from the hallucinations, all this thoughts, and those murders of his crew? They were tests, and he passed every single one! Won't he join him and accept the power!

He agrees, and the left behind guy holds up a spear. By the power of the spear he can become one of them! And live in a musty cave! He quickly grabs the spear and breaks it, and the left-behind guy seems to have his life sucked out of him. But not enough not to put the rope around his body and have him lifted out of the cave. Maybe he's not really dead. Everyone is out now, at least all the live ones, and the organizer is there with a couple choppers. The woman is smiling. Everyone will be okay and oh well the whole point of the mission died, but the leader doesn't care about the money now anyway. But hey back in the cave are the prized spears of Ghengis Kahn, and by now we figure that was the REAL purpose of the mission, because they'd be worth millions. The leader tells the whore-shagging coordinator that they're right down that hole, so he jumps down, and the leader pulls the rope up. We see the coordinator look up at the rope, but his attention is distracted by a female ghost running away from him.

THE END

Save your money and your time. Don't rent this one.

10 reasons you won't find me at a Warren Miller movie

2007-11-09T12:29:00.000-08:00

10. I see enough commercials for JEEP already on television.
9. $20 to sit through a very long JEEP commercial.
8. Your $20 is compensated with coupons. To White Pass. Mid-week. How many 100s of miles is that from northwestern Washington?
7. Other coupons are a free pass to Sun Peaks, Big White, Apex or Silver Star. See above complaint.
6. Coupon for "Up to $25 off" purchase at a local ski shop. Which means I'd probably have to spend $500 to see the $25.
5. They find skiers with medals from world-renown competitions, but the year the US snowboarders swept the Olympics, they used a couple unknown teenage girls to demonstrate the snowboard segment.
4. They never brought back Rob Kingwill or Julie Zell.
3. Ski-jumping acrobatics.
2. Glen Plake thinks skiing was much better before snowboarding existed.
1. Glen Plake is Warren Miller's lil' bitch.

Degrees of Wetness

2007-11-08T11:00:00.001-08:00

"I thought you said it was nice outside. Look, it's raining."

"Sure, but it's a dry rain."

"I thought dry rain only happened in the desert, where the water evaporates before it hits the ground."

"But you can walk in it and not get completely soaked. In Washington, that's a dry rain."

Hollywood Writers on Strike in NY

2007-11-05T09:24:00.001-08:00

Oh My God what on Earth will people do if they don't get a new episode of their favorite SOAP OPERA or LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW on the tely next week? Might they have to TALK TO THEIR SPOUSE? or Play a BOARD GAME with their KIDS? or get off their FAT ASS and get some EXERCISE?

It's not like society is going to fall apart like when the sanitation crews stayed off the job in NY.

Quite to the contrary. I think it might be interesting to see if there isn't a mini baby boom 9-10 months from now.

I say, they should just stay on strike, permanently. Let the device that babysits all creative brain activity rot, instead of introducing rot into ones synapses.

That horrid non-follow up from Evite

2007-10-30T12:21:00.000-07:00

Here is my inquiry:

Your template main images are 430 x 250. When I go to upload my main image and I create it at this size, Evite reduces it to a much smaller version. If I view the image alone it's reduced to 366 x 212, but it is not even displaying that large. I'm sorry, but the "enlarge image" just doesn't cut it. What size do I need to make my main image so that it matches the size of those used in your templates, and doesn't reduce in the invitation?

Here is their response:

Thank you for your inquiry.

The size of the image wouldn't matter, all uploaded images are automatically resized. It's not possible to not have an uploaded image not be resized.

If we can further assist you, please contact us.

Candice
Evite Support

Well yes, in fact you can further assist me. YOU CAN FIX YOUR FREAKING SOFTWARE.

Thank you very much.

Finally, an alternative to Evite

2007-10-29T14:55:00.000-07:00

I kept trying to upload a graphic to Evite that would customize an invitation. I looked at their standard templates and copied their standard main image size. When I uploaded my own, the program not only shrank it, but displayed it at a smaller-than-shrunk size. There was nothing about this in their online help, so I sent them an email, which will be responded to in 1-3 business days. Well that's great, one day before my event they might get back to me. Onto something else. I discovered Socializr, which has the added benefit of obtaining email lists and addresses from other sites and email programs. You can incorporate data from other sites easily.

And when I uploaded my image that was the same as their standard template images, it did not shrink it at all.

The reason I am blogging about this is I discovered Socializr on someone else's blog; it seems that blogs get higher results in Google.

California on fire

2007-10-24T13:36:00.000-07:00

California is setting itself up nicely for what should be a very event-filled mudslide season.

Can this evacuation be deemed the "million man march"?

Seasonal Disorders

2007-10-12T11:26:00.000-07:00

With the cooler wintry temps comes more tv watching and getting crap done. Yesterday afternoon after a dr. appt left me an extra 45 minutes in my day, I got a few groceries, got my watch fixed (the battery was dead, but it was also "stuck"... some electromagnetic device defibrillated it), picked up some Gorilla Grip to fix my car key, made an appt. to get new car tires, picked up printing at Kinkos, and then did all my laundry, all in time to watch a new episode of CSI.

My biggest problem with tv watching is the commercials, I mean, here I am paying for cable television and paying to watch advertising. And some ads are kind of clever or cute or at least entertaining, then there's the ones that just baffle all sense of what should be shown on tv. ITT Tech. Why could you not just end that one with the guy happily satisfied with his training there? Why did you have to bring him home where he makes his "beautiful wife proud" and then she dribbles on about "how hard he works for us every day" tears dripping down both of her chins. I want to think the only reason he married that cow was he got her knocked up in 10th grade and her daddy had a gun collection.

The underlying message is, yeah, you've screwed up your life pretty good by the time you were 22, but come to us, we'll at least set you up with enough income for alimony when you get your head on straight.

Marcel Marceau

2007-09-24T14:55:00.000-07:00

So the infamous mime has breathed his last.

Will there be a, um, moment of silence to honor his passing?

Orcas saved the day

2007-09-03T19:58:00.000-07:00

Been burning my candles at three ends. Went to Bumbershoot (huge music and arts festival in Seattle) on Saturday. Three of us had the three types of admissions (in hand, will call, at the door), but we got there early enough to deal with it. Saturday night I thought I'd lost my cell phone, but it went home with someone else and I was able to get it back Sunday (felt pretty darned naked without it). Sunday I had to be ready to be on a boat all day for a sailing race back in Bellingham, 85 miles away. Although quite overcast with dark clouds, it was still. Never topped four knots for more than a couple minutes, and by 1pm they called the race. On the horizon some black fins appeared and a cluster of boats were following. In the next hour or so was one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced.

I jumped at the chance to get in a little skiff and buzz around the harbor to get a better view of the animals. They came quite close to shore and I probably could have seen them from the park below my home. There was one large male, three mid-size (assuming they were females), and three babies jumping out of the water and splashing their tails about.

Up here I've only seen them at a distance. That they would venture into this shallow, mercury-infested bay was little short of miraculous. They may have been following the salmon, which are plentiful this year. Once they got within about 50 yards of the far north side of the bay they came around and awed us again with their passing back out into the sound.

What month is it?

2007-08-06T10:20:00.001-07:00

I believe my internal calendar is flopped sideways. I keep forgetting it's August. It's either September or July in my pitiful mind; perhaps I just can't accept the fact that it's 62 degrees outside on an August morning. Or maybe it's that I have a huge commitment in September of travel and such because my sister is getting married on two coasts in a week's time period. I have the dress, the gift, the airline tix and the rental car; everything beyond that is TBD. This "TBD" sits in my mind like the next move in a game of chess, providing a slightly elevated level of anxiety... whose extra bedroom will I crash in? which friends will I get to see? will I want to come back to the frigid northwest? will the water be too polluted to surf? Will there be any surf? Will I make it down to north San Diego county? Will Randall take me longboarding? Will I get to see Kim whom I haven't seen in 20 years? And Bill, the former youth pastor who lead me to Christ and baptised me? A week just doesn't seem like a long enough stretch to fit it all in.

And this for all you families out there: How to make sure you get the beach to yourself: Hike into a lovely, serene and secluded cove bringing at least four offspring, especially ones that have no respect for living things or quiet. Bring a dog that knows no boundaries, much like the kid. Once the kid starts decimating every living thing within its reach, discipline it by saying "Oh honey please don't kill things, okay sweetheart?"

Serial rapist/murderer in training. First it's crustaceans, next it's hookers, then maybe flight attendants.

I had to leave.

What's more fun than a root canal?

2007-07-31T17:15:00.000-07:00

A visit to the proctologist?

A root canal with enough novacaine to numb my eyelid. It wasn't until 3/4 the way through I was almost convinced that I wasn't going to feel it, and if you've had this done you know what I mean by "it", and my body as such a great memory for pain, it's like I've never forgotten any of my painful experiences and spend a great deal of time, more than I should, trying to decide which specific instance was more painful. Recent memory was the drainage of the infected tooth, but proudly I must say, I did not break down into crying like I thought I would; the shots didn't even hurt too much, although the tension and the pushing and shoving has further aggravated my back problem with a pinching feeling just at the base of my neck.

Once the novacaine wore off it's painful just to eat anything. I might have to slurp down mushy bananas for awhile. I wish I could just do ice cream but that will send my body into a worse situation; I already have a sore throat and impending sinus infection from the stress of the anticipation of today's visit.

Adobe punishes for trying beta software

2007-07-19T15:03:00.000-07:00

I just got my CS3 Web Premium (and why this doesn't include Homesite is beyond me) disks which include Photoshop. I had run the beta software until the minute it expired (actually longer. it only expired after I quit the application) and missed it sorely, plus now all my defaults were set to open file with CS3, which gave me a crap error when opening after the expiry date. I tried trashing the application but it still didn't help. In fact trashing the application, which is what all good Mac users do when they don't want to use software on their system any longer, was probably the root cause of the problem experienced when installing. Although I had other CS3 trials I'd installed, only Photoshop was presenting a conflict. And what a helpful error message it gave from the install image: There is a conflict installing Photoshop CS3. The conflict is:

Adobe Photoshop CS3

A software application that conflicts with its own trial version? C'mon, what are these people thinking? Maybe they were too busy taking over Macromedia to pay attention to such details at the time. Probably fired just the wrong people. So I end up having to run a Darwin script that promised to annihilate my computer as well as clean up all the old trial software debris, you know, the registry entries, and the 40,000 library folders and folders and files within folders and folders. After a couple tries it actually DID something and I was able to install the application. (So far I haven't noticed any pieces gone missing, but I haven't looked very hard either.)

To show my appreciation for all that Adobe has done for me, I decided to register Photoshop right after launching it and entering my authorization code. However I decided to not use my real name, no sir, I wanted them to pay attention to how I really felt right then. My first name is now Installing_Adobe_Software_Sucks and my last name is Ass_Big_Time.

I can't wait to get my first email from them.

and MORE pain

2007-07-17T22:25:00.000-07:00

I figured out why I'd been feeling rather crappy last week. Dentist discovered an infected tooth. No decay, xray was clean. He found it with an iced q-tip, and we were all thinking it was a different tooth, but there was no reaction. As soon as he hit the molar, I about flew out of the chair. Two injections later I was still not able to tolerate the drill. He managed to drain it a little and vacuum out some of the goo, but I was getting to where I was afraid of the drill, afraid I would feel the pain that kept occurring.

What the heck am I going to do during the root canal? My prior r/c experience was not exactly pleasant.

Reno 911

2007-07-14T18:05:00.000-07:00

Who came first: In n Out Burger or In n Out Motel?
Last weekend I went to Reno again to visit my cousin, who plays in symphony there on occasion. The plan was to rest up Friday as I still hadn't quite recovered from the day in the blazing sun followed by the all night commute. I even bought sleeping pills. We stayed at the Silver Legacy, the towering multi-faceted casino/hotel next door to the El Dorado. While my cousin practiced and went out, I tried, and failed, to sleep. The pills made me hazy but not sleepy, not like percoset, vicodin or valium. So I watched the Discovery channel - a doomsday show about a comet hitting the earth, and who is there talking but prof. David Sattler, the expert on the psychological affect of disasters. I helped him to create the Inter'l Tsunami Museum exhibit in Kho Lak, Thailand.

Saturday I met up with my friend Kim. We tried to go to the beer/brew and music fest outside the hotel but it was just too freaking hot. After walking around a bit we went to her mom's house on the other end of town, had lunch at a chain brewery, looked at the new I-phone at the Apple store. I checked my email while there. No one seemed to miss my presence in Washington. Went back to her apartment and then decided to meet up later.

I found my cousin after the show at the edge of the stage drinking wine with a cellist next to the trash cans. Odd how in Reno open containers are not a problem. In WA they force all alcohol consumers into a cage. I don't get it. We had more wine at a place that is coffee by day and wine by night.

Kim and I decided to go to a Latin night club, Coco Boom. I spoke a little Spanish but less than I used to. She found us some boys to dance with, Hondurans. We were the only whites in attendance. She had written an article about the place and had passes. There were two main areas, one with a huge rectangular bar. The first guy I danced with was getting a little too chummy. Kim's partner for the evening immediately found me another friend, and he was cute, but smelled like wine and cigarettes. We left as I was getting tired and it was almost 3am. Again.

Sunday Catherine and I tried to find a way up to Lake Tahoe to escape the heat, and after looking online (over $40ea. round trip), found out the only feasible way was to rent a car. But it was already the afternoon by that time. We had fun playing in the river. I got water-shy Catherine to jump into the river with my bodyboard. It was so much nicer being wet. I wore a long sleeved linen shirt and with that on and wet, I was almost cold in the 103 degree heat. An alternative-music style band started playing by the river. Catherine eventually found me and we listened, although the band never said their name, only that they were having an album release party a the Nugget.

After getting cleaned up we headed out for Basque food. I'd never had it, and I liked the Picon liquor. Two older couples were at our table. The men started flirting with us. It was quite entertaining.

Down on fourth avenue we admired the kitchi-ness of the area and even snuck inside a weekly hotel for a look around. Secure, my ass!

We saw a guy who does bookings for musicians who was playing at a rather hip club in this funky neighborhood. We decided to shell out the $12 cover for the all ages venue. The first band was kind of -eh- but his band, "Who Cares" was an interesting setup. 17 year old rapper, him on sax, another guy on keyboard. Album Leaf headlined but they must all be deaf. During soundcheck each member wanted more on THEIR mic, to the point where when they played, it was unbearable. The floors were vibrating. I'm surprised the old wooden roof didn't collapse.

After that we went to the Roxy where Catherine knew the piano player, Paul. I had a chocolate raspberry martini. Yum. He had funny songs, and did "I blog alone" for me. Do I need to comment on that?

The next morning I went for coffee with Kim at Java Jungle, and who should be working there behind the counter but the lead singer from the first band at the venue from the night before. Only in town three days and I felt like a local.

Random Reno stuff: The Best Drug Store was for lease and empty. I guess saying it twice didn't impact sales. Neither did being next to a wedding chapel.

"When morning comes twice a day..."

2007-07-05T15:01:00.000-07:00

Today I learned something about this amazingly northern part of the Americas. It starts to get light around 3:15 am. 3:15! for crikey sakes. How do I know this? I stayed at Willie Nelson's 4th of July picnic til the bitter end. At the Gorge Amphitheatre, 240 miles from my domicile. It didn't end until midnight. Didn't know I'm a willie fan? Well I'm not really, but the old guy might kick it any day and even at 73 he has a lovely voice. And his teenage looking son wasn't half bad either. But I was really there for Son Volt. And they were put in AFTER Amos Lee, Drive By Truckers, and Old 97s. Which is cool because last time I saw them play with Drive By Truckers, Son Volt opened. Unfortunately yesterday the crowd was all anxious for the old geezer (just one more band! I overheard some lardball bemoan), but it didn't stop me from hootin' and hollerin' and singing along.

At the end of "move it on over" about the hot dog replacing the cold dog, I decided that I like my music the way I like my men: complex.

I managed to cheat the night a little by sleeping at a rest stop that couldn't come soon enough; there is an additional rest stop southbound near Lynnwood but the highway folks couldn't be as nice to the northbound travelers and I had to go all the way past Marysville. But I want to know why it is my bladder is WAY more sensitive and alert to the slightest amount of fluid in there when a. I'm driving and b. trying to sleep in my car? And it's not like a van with easy horizontal access; it's duck under the flap, find somewhere semi comfortable for my feet that are too long for that back section, avoid whatever light source is peeking in through the cracks. And try to fall asleep before one of the individual body parts does.

The nice thing about WA rest stops is they have snacks for you, just waiting! And coffee! All by donation. I had a lovely slice of poppyseed cake with underwhelming coffee, but hey it was THERE and it was FREE. God bless America.

Aftermath of Vision

2007-06-15T22:39:00.000-07:00

One thing I forgot to mention was towards the end of the procedure, something very, very cold is put in the eye, feels like ice. Not painful, just cold.

I'm not able to read much or tolerate tv, monitors, or any other light-giving device, (yeah still typing with my eyes closed) so I checked out some books on CD. Hemingway was one f-d up mo-fo. How depressed can you get? I understand now why he ended it. I recall reading and essaying on him in high school. We read The Sun Also Rises and I'm sure a couple of others - something about a fisherman and a big fish that was lost. Its significance was lost on me, but that's what you get when reading something like that as a still optimistic teen. Something about a baby looking like a skinned rabbit - a phrase that I've always kept in my memory every time I see a picture of a newborn. But "To Have and Have Not"? I thought I wanted to commit suicide when the pain in my eyes was so bad I ended up making a late night run up to Vancouver to see the doc at the office at midnight. After listening to that book... all I could do was drink a glass of wine from the bottle I'd half drank on the train yesterday (my first official follow up visit), downing an Atavan along with it, trying to eliminate the effects of a Red Bull I had so I could get off the couch this afternoon. It worked too well.

Monday was a glimpse of hell. Out of pain meds and the feeling of a healing epithelium was simply more than I could bear. It was late and I knew the ER would be a place of further waiting under torturous florescent lights, uncomfortable chairs, the seconds ticking by like an eternity because I didn't have buckets of blood gushing from my neck ensuring a quicker admittance to a room. And all that waiting would have cost me around $1000, which is only slightly less than the half tank of gas it took to get to Vancouver and back, but still. Plus my doctor is better looking than the late shift in the St. Josephs Hospital ER. If I was going to cross an international border at 11 pm, navigate my driver with my eyes closed, use my cell phone on Rogers instead of Verizon, which Verizon will eventually demand that lasered right eye to pay for... it was sure as hell going to be to see the man who did this to me and not some on-call eye doc the hospital could muster at that hour.

Everything turned out to be normal. Five percent of those who go through this have my kind of pain. Lucky me, why are not my odds this good in Vegas?

I had my follow up visit yesterday. Lacking a ride and with vision not quite good enough to see road signs and hapless pedestrians, I took Amtrak. Quite comfortable, waaay more leg room than an airplane and only about twice what I would have paid in gas (but with parking, perhaps the same.) I had three hours to kill from the train drop to the appointment, so I decided to walk the 2 kilometers; had lunch at a trendy restaurant (Earls on Robson), looked in clothing shops. Wasn't in the mood to buy. I did try on one zip, pocketed T that was long sleeved and well made, and I know that eventually I will own something by this company. Check out the initials: French Connection U. K. It looks rather, well, provocative when presented by initials only. The shirt had the letters large but the first two were mirrored. The garment was nicely made and a muted sort of purple. Marked down to fifty or so. But I'll be back there in a couple weeks for another follow up. Maybe it will be marked down more? Also I won two hoodies, one zipped, at a raffle at the Surfrider Foundation Clean Water Classic, the first week in June at Westport, Washington. Did I need another casual zippered T?

(A Canadian kid won the surfing event. He didn't look more than 15, and beat the local attitude-ridden surfer, known as Pepsi, aka Steve Martin. Oh well Steve, you lost to a kid half your age. Maybe this is the humility you needed.)

I made the mistake of walking back to the Amtrak station. I feel I know Vancouver fairly well now, but I wish I'd taken the sky train. My ten year damaged arthritic right knee started paining me. My Kenneth Cole shoes were cute but not make for city trekking. I stopped and dug for the Advil I knew was in my purse but it refused to appear before my blurry eyes. (Lo and behold, it surfaced tonight while looking for postage stamps.) Running out of time, I went on, only to wait in line for customs on the way back. They wanted me to remove my sunglasses. I did, but with my eyes closed. Sunlight sensitivity is sill a huge problem.

Seems odd that you can drive through and they ask you a few questions, maybe or maybe not show your pass-a-por-te, but when taking the train you have to fill out all the same forms you would on an airplane. Except on the train they have the advantage of stopping right at the border and taking those dang forms. I'd like to seem them try that on a plane. "We will be stalling the engines momentarily to check customs forms. Please have them ready quickly so that we don't lose too much elevation while we drop towards Earth. Once those forms are collected, we will proceed to our final destination."

The blind shall see...

2007-06-09T17:09:00.000-07:00

So I know Dr. Kirzner isn't Jesus, but he does know how to manipulate some really funky machinery that points flesh-dissolving laser-beams into your eyeball and wham! I'm supposedly going to have 20:20 vision without glasses or contacts, something i haven't had since I was... 7? He doesn't do this for free either so I might have to get creative with some monies to keep myself all in the black.

Anyone really want to know what it's like to get PRK (NOT lasik) done?

In all the research I did, no one talked about the actual procedure. i'm doing to do my best to remember my adavan-induced hazy memory before it becomes to too sketchy to recall.

If you're squeamish or easily faint, I suggest you go read someone else's blog right now.

Okay?

You sure?

You've been duly warned.

ALrighty.

Receptionist: Are you here for surgery? I shrink about three inches and squeak out a meager nod. She says don't be so scared, it will be fine. What time is my appointment? Not for a half hour? We decided to go for a walk outside. There is a sculputre of a small church and steeple upside-down, with materials that reflect the new buildlings across the park that are definitely right side up, if not lopsided looking. The path continued along the waterfront until it was obstructed by new construction, and to get all the way to the ferry terminal, which is kind of a cool place to check out, we would not have had time to take the detour. So we went back.

You are told what is going to happen to you and your eyes are checked like a typical vision check except that this time you look at this fuzzy Christmas tree on a nuclear landscape as it comes in and out of focus, maybe after and before the neutron bomb destroyed all the other Christmas trees that used to be around it. They you look at this black circle, but wait there are two black circles, and they appear in a rectangular bright blue shaped light, and it starts spinning. Okay sign me up, you've hypnotized me and I will sign on the dotted line. No wait. I already did. And initialed about thirty other places that says hey if this doesn't work out like you thought, really we're not responsible, and what ever gave you the idea that you would have improved vision after this procedure? The doctor asks me if I understand everything I've read and initialed. I said I certainly hope so.

Eyes double rechecked again by the surgeon himself.

A nurse leads me off to the surgery waiting room and I get to wear a lovely hair cap, the kind nurses wear in the o.r. and line cooks wear in the kitchen. Very attractive, I'm sure.

They take my glasses from me and have me lie down on a long black bench that is padded, with a little bowl for my head that hangs down below the bench just a little bit. There is a supportive pillow / rest thing for under my knees.

They turn on the laser and move it above me. It's a flashing red light, and sometimes a non flashing red light. They say always look at the flashing red light, or the green light which is not flashing. It appear small and sharp in an otherwise blackened area straight over my eye. It's size is about the size of the tip of a pen and is only as fuzzy as my prescription make is fuzzy.

I start muttering that I am scared but probably not loud enough that anyone hears, or pays attention. They put a paper or cloth covering over my non-operating eye. A drop is applyed to my right eye, then a circular plastic thing locks around my eye to keep my lids open, clockwork orange style. At this point I can't feel much of anything. A swab is applied to my epithelium (clear part over the center of my eye). I can see it moving around and I know that this is the part where it's being dizzolved and removed. He withdraws the swab, twirling it to pick up any epithelial residue.

Now there is that laser and it starts pulsing and then there are loud noises, noises like an emergency center might make, sort of a cross between a truck horn and a bass note, or that fire warning they sounded in 1970s elementary schools. I was told of the smell of burning flesh but I really didn't like it when it happened, so I started breathing through my mouth. The sharp red laser point turned into a big blurry red blob closer to the size of a nickle, with lots of smaller streaks kind of forming a large circular object, and a green one below it. I tried to think of something meditative. I decided that light was Jesus, and no matter how painful it got I would look at Jesus. Not a bad metaphor, I mean, He is light, right? The red and green blobs grew and grew and then they were encroached upon by three round pale purply-white objects in the periphery, unicorns perhaps? and then I heard him say "blocking your vision" and everything went black. Or white. I'm already forgetting. Next thing I know a contact lense is being placed in my eye, and the black ring is removed so I can blink, and the whole thing starts over with my left eye. I wasn't quite as freaked out over the left eye because I knew what was coming. That and the atavan kept me somewhat calm, even though my palms were sweathing as I held onto my thumbs with a death-squeeze.

I'd been charged for a tissue sparing cartridge so I asked the dr. afterwards if he used it. Said no, didn't have to. I said then I wanted my one-fifty dollars back. I guess there had been some miscommunication and the dr. was embarassed by that whole thing. To me it was no big deal, but I guess to him it was. They did reimburse me, although reading fine print right now is not much of a strength.

They gave me my glasses back along with a pair of really sexy blue-blocker style sunglasses you see on the elderly. Now with my hair cap that really would have been an image. The sun was so bright that on the way home, I ended up wearing my Vaurnets and these blue blockers together, and it still wasn't dark enough to end the pain.

During the recovery waiting period, one of my contact lenses got really gooey and I could feel like it slid downwards. I was seeing double in my right eye now. The doctor took some poker and shoved it back in place, but said I might need a tighter fitting contact on that eye. Sure enough ten mintues later, they fitted me with a different contact. It seems to be staing in place, but they both feel like I've taken a fresh water shower with them in. All the time. They do give you extra contacts in case you lose one.

Back to the hotel next door I laid down and fell asleep for a bit. Eventually we decided to get dinner. Looped out on atavan we walked several blocks to an Irish pub for dinner. It was Kilt night, and the band was playing fun songs and I stuffed some food down. I wished I'd been in the mood for more merry-making, as it was that kind of atmosphere the band created with their Irish ditties and cover songs.I could hardly read the menu, and I can't remember what I had. A salad with mango and avaocado, and chicken wings, I think that was it.

I woke up with a sharp pain in each eye. Today my eyes feel a little worse, dry, extra sensitive to light, hazy, blurry, just yech. I know it will be better eventually but this healing time really sucks. I was with a friend the whole weekend and we discussed starting a creative agency, and I think it just might work with her and my skills combined. We've already almost launched her husband's company with a logo I designed that will go out onto over a million phones. Next is the web site and then there's the whole marketing wagon. fun stuff.

Wednesday I go back up there to get my contact lenses removed. The brochure says my vision might be a little worse after getting the contact out, but it will improve as the surface gets smoother. It's strange to think that part of your eye will simply grow back, like skin. I guess the epithelial layer is like the skin of the eyeball. This procedure is safer than lasik because in lasik they cut open the epithelial and make it a flap, then put the flap back in place. That healing takes a long time and you have to be careful that you don't injure it. However short term you have your sight quicker and there's less healing time that is noticeable.

I got it done at Coal Harbor laser eye center in Vancouver, British Columbia. They're kind of a no frills shop without the spa-like nurturing comforts, but they have been doing this longer than anyone around, and seem to know what they are doing. They also turn away about four percent of those who want this done, which is higher than most.

Anything you want to ask me about the surgery I'll do my best to answer. Now i have to go rest my eyes. And maybe take another atavan. woo-hoo. Day three they said my vision may be worse. That would be tomorrow. I've put my computer at 640 x 480, so I gues there is a use for ridiculously large type. Also changed the brightness and contrast super low. Still hurts a little so remember this was written in a state of pain.

Pain in the neck

2007-06-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

Literally... it kept me up most of the night and I can barely concentrate on work it hurts so much. After a few phone calls to drs they agreed to see me this afternoon. Unfortunately the pain didn't begin til it was too late to see a doc. I tried to take a pain pill but it got stuck in my throat and I coughed it up sideways, tearing whatever surface lines ones throat in that area. This made me cough for quite a while and secrete a lot of mucous, so much that it blocked the air into my lungs. So I took a puff of my anti-asthma med and eventually I calmed down enough to remember that my neck and back made it impossible to lay down.

But the real pain in the neck is what caused the pain in the neck. I went to Westport for Surfrider's Clean Water Classic and agreed to volunteer in a spotting role; that is I would call out the color of the jersey of the surfer who was standing up on the wave. Being quite attuned to this sort of thing, even in the dense fog I was usually the first one to notice a surfer up and would call out his color. "Blue is up! Blue!" I would say as loud as my puny vocal chords would let me. But there was this other woman with a voice that had an amplifier built into it, and about two or three seconds after my announcement of the color of the jersey, she would bellow out the exact same thing, as though my words had gone into some kind of vaccuum and it didn't count. And more than a few times, she had the color wrong.

I believe what caused the kink in my neck wasn't the crazy dancing at the event parties or staring at the full blue moon on the almost balmy night. It was holding up those dang binoculars to my face for almost two solid hours. I can't think of what might else have done it. Or maybe it was wincing every time boom-box-voice repeated my volunteer effort.

Getting out there

2007-05-28T19:03:00.000-07:00

This week I got out twice to try the snowpack which lingers ever heavily in the surrounding mountains. Once with someone who wanted to practice Ski to Sea, which just looks like pure torture, running up a ski hill that should really only be done the other way. Saturday, the nicest day of this holiday weekend, went to Chinook Pass, which is just past Crystal ski area. The road had only opened a few days earlier. It was really fun out there. It could even be its own ski area, so many cool runs. The hiking wasn't too bad. I didn't use the split board because the skins had been wet from the Baker climb... and I guess they don't stick well when wet. Or I've just been storing them wrong.

Sunday was the Ski to Sea race here in Bellingham, over 400 teams compete on an 82.5 mile 8-leg relay, of which none of the legs I'm positive would not actually kill me. Instead of competing I went to Fairhaven, where the race ends, watched the first few kayakers plow into shore and ring the bell. Hung out in the beer cage and drank some wine, thinking I might actually see some people I knew. Besides a couple co workers, I didn't see any competitors. I think logistically unless they're doing the kayak portion, it's hard for them to get anywhere near Fairhaven until the whole thing is over. What sucked most was to be in this crowd and not knowing anyone, and going home to my cats. Today I cleaned the car and am doing some more painting of the 70s kitchen cabinets, this time on the inside. Yech. Kind of a rotten way to end the weekend.

It's not over til...

2007-05-06T22:51:00.000-07:00

Mt. Baker still has plenty of snow. Saw an avalanche on Mt. Hermann - sounded like thunder - and a bear cub on hwy 542. On a previous trip I saw a bobcat. Check out the pix on flickr.

Mt. Baker Last Day

2007-05-02T13:18:00.000-07:00

I pulled my early 90s-era neon jacket out of the closet to close out lift service at Mt. Baker ski area. It wasn't warm but it wasn't too cold, and I was a little worried when it was snowing in the parking lot at 11:30 am. This old baby wasn't waterproof any more, probably never was, but dang if it didn't brighten up the place like an easter egg. I wore all my Mardi Gras beads I could find and managed to donate a couple to the bead and panty tree off of Chair Six. They'll be there til the next major windstorm.

I had lunch and a beer/water with some ski club members and hit the slopes with Sid, a skier, around 1:30. He kept losing a ski in the thick, wet slushy snow, which is one of my favorite conditions, although my knees did hurt the next day. I got ten runs in 2.5 hours, two in the canyon. There was a band playing bluegrass at the base area but they were playing inside, and everyone was outside.

There were some fun custumes. Tigger and Eyeore showed up, as did characters from the Matrix. One snowboarder wore bright cone-orange unisuit from head to toe, and he was a good snowboarder, though it was hard on the eyes.

When I got home I took a bath, wrapped in a robe and towel and crawled in bed at 7:30pm. And didn't move for 12 hours.

My days up there are not over. I plan to take my split board up to Artist's Point. Probably won't descend anything steep, just stay on the track, but I do want practice on that big burly board before attempting a hut trip over Memorial Day.

Tell me why... Virginia Tech Shootings

2007-04-16T12:33:00.000-07:00

Someone else doesn't like Mondays much either, I guess.

You know the phrase "if it's too loud, you're too old"? I used to be able to go out dancing to clubs. Not anymore. I went to Rumors, a dance club in Bellingham, and I guess the dj thought we were all deaf because around 11:30 the music was cranked up a few notches above liveable, I mean, it felt like someone was hammering a hypodermic needle into my ear drums. I had to leave. Same thing happened in Whistler. I don't recall when I was younger, music having to be played this loudly.

But live shows can be more amenable to one's hearing. I saw Greg Brown a couple weeks ago in Seattle. Upon leaving a random coworker of my friend happened to be walking by and asked if I enjoyed the show. "Greg Brown is good" I answered. "But although we were in the front row, we were off to the side and I couldn't look at the stage without having an ex boyfriend in my line of vision." "So he enjoyed the show and you didn't?"

On looking 25? +-

2007-03-30T09:44:00.000-07:00

"May I help you?"

"I need to buy a Spring bus pass."

"That will be $30 cash or check only."

"How about payroll deduction?"

"Oh, sure, okay, I need to see your Western I.D."

"I thought it was $20."

"I thought you were a student."

The only other band that will keep me out late on a school night.

2007-03-27T10:59:00.000-07:00

Arrive late, park close, sit in chair through opener, hog front and center stage in a smoke free bar with nice ambiance, with a musician playing his guitar in your face and the lead singer a foot away. How does it get any better than that? My favorite band, Son Volt, kicked off their tour supporting their new CD release, Searching, right here in Bellingham. So I didn't know any of the new songs, no one did, it just came out. But they broke into their old favorites after awhile. That close, the sound kind of sucks and you have to wear ear plugs, but to be that close? Closest I've ever felt to being a groupie. It's even worth feeling a bit brain dead today. One of these days, I'll catch up on sleep...

Some lyrics for y'all...

::Still Be Around::

I don't see you through the windshield
I don't see you in faces looking back at me
Alcohol doesn't have much that matters to say
Can't imagine where you and time to kill will stay

When the bible is a bottle
And the hardwood floor is home
When morning comes twice a day or not at all
If I break in two will you put me back together?
When this puzzle's figured out will you still be around
To say you've just been there
Walking the line upside down

Walked and breathed many a cancerous mile
Where the bat of an eye is too slow to beat the coffin
They won't tell it on the TV
They can't say it on the radio
They pay to move it off the shelf and into our minds
Until you can't tell the truth
When it's right in front of your eyes

When the bible is a bottle
And the hardwood floor is home
When morning comes twice a day or not at all
If I break in two will you put me back together?
When this puzzle's figured out will you still be around
To say you've just been there
Walking the line upside down

(Trying to be) 25 again

2007-03-25T19:34:00.000-07:00

"Alice in Chains Tribute". That was all that was on the pub's listing, and all I needed to see to get me to go out and stay out beyond my bedtime on a night I knew I'd be going snowboarding the next morning. They didn't get into the Alice in Chains songs until well past 11pm, and by then I'd made some acquaintances who were in their 20s by joining them on the dance floor (we were "it") while the first band played Just One Kiss. One was a hair dresser and the other a dog groomer, cute as button girly girls. Oh to be 25.

Something about the music of that band.. reaches me.... and this cover band did it very, very well.. although I never saw Alice in Chains for real, from what I've heard of their music they were spot on. The Jar of Flies band was very appreciative of their audience and noted how helpful everyone had been to them in Bellingham.

Fast forward to Sunday morning, my friend Abby calls me back at 7:40 and decides not to join me on the mountain. I'd had about 6 hours of sleep at this point and decided to turn off my 8am alarm and try to sleep off my hangover. It almost worked, and I was at the mountain by 12:30. Unfortunately I had to rent poles, because I forgot mine. I was determined to bring out my Split board for the first time, and I had picked a marvelous day: breaking clouds with periods of intense sun, followed by little snow flurries on top of about a foot of solid, soft powder. By solid I mean the avalanche conditions were optimal; everything that was going to slide slid the day before when it was raining all day. So I didn't feel too nervous about going it alone. It was near 1pm by the time I got the poles and drove to Heather Meadows and put my gear together.

Just out of the parking lot a couple gals asked if they could film me. They were working on a promo for Mt. Baker showing how people use the resort. They had tried to get footage at the lower base area, but the weather was really bad down there. When they were done, I had to go back to the car and swap out my snow hat for a sun visor. And put the jacket in the backpack.

Climbing up was the easy part. The skins on the bottoms of the "skis" prevented backwards motion in all but the steepest terrain. I felt like a champion, able to pull off the established track at any moment and not sink. I was an elf, gliding on white marshmallows. Although the old pain in my groin that I get hiking eventually surfaced, it beat the heck out of boot-packing it. The only hard part was a steep switchback; wasn't sure where to put the skis to make the turn. I ended up sliding backwards and falling, taking off the skis, crawling back to the trail, pointing them in the direction I wanted to go and locking into the bindings. Let me be clear - I am very glad I have Flow bindings, which allow quick in and out of those things.

When I reached my destination for descent, I had a problem that was more difficult to overcome than I'd imagined: Instead of a clear floor of carpeting below me to put my board together, I was on a 30 degree slope filled with very light powder that liked to move on top of my board or wherever I was trying to work. There are small nooks and crannies on the board that needed to be free of ice to get the thing together. I took awhile to figure out how to put the snowboard together with all the metal parts in their proper place in this environment. The lack of sleep and dehydration symptoms exacerbated my frustrations, but eventually I got it.

I called Abby and chewed her out for not being with me in these epic conditions, then called another friend in Cali who hates the cold. The reception up there is really good, although it seems miles from nowhere. (I was at a point between Blueberry ridge and Table Mountain, not far from Artist's Point.) I loaded myself into the snowboard bindings and started down, very, very fast, feeling awkward on this 159 cm board. My regular board is 154. Plus it makes funny noises and doesn't feel as stable as a regular snowboard. Because it isn't.

The run should have been a very simple one, although a little steep, there were no tracks and all the avalanche debri was off to one side. But I got going so fast I think I freaked out and tried, after a couple turns, to control it too much and did a somersault... somehow the ski poles stayed locked into the side of my backpack and didn't impale me. I sat a while and cleared the snow out of my sunglasses (yes.. sunglasses, not goggles!) and tried again.. only to end up sliding on my belly a few yards... Okay c'mon pull it together! I managed to ride out the rest where there were tracks to cross and avalanche death cookies to avoid, but for some reason I think the challenge of those things made me have to concentrate harder, and I made it to the bottom without any further mishaps. I apologized to the guys down below that I was probably painful to watch. They were just glad I hadn't hurt myself. Yeah, that.

Then came the gear issue again.. I had to convert my snowboard back into skis, and at first I just did that, and realized it was too steep uphill, even at a 10% grade, to not have the skins on. So I put the skins on and started up. Then I got to the trail in bounds and realized the skins made me go to slow to glide down hill, and I was running out of time because I had to return the poles by 4:15. So I got off the skis again and took off the skins.

Now is the really embarassing part: I cannot ski. I mean it. The greenest green hill was freaking me out. All these edges, wanting to go every which way! It took what felt like forever to get to the car and I was sure I was going to crash. I even walked the last little steep part just before the parking lot. If I didn't have to return the poles, I would have converted it back into a snowboard again. At least there wouldn't have been fresh powder to interfere with the locking mechanisms.

The guy at the rental shop found me in the parking lot and did his best to make me feel like crap for returning the gear late. It was less than 10 minutes late, but he made sure I knew he wasn't happy about it. Phooey. I even drove from the upper lot to the lower one in my snowboard boots, passing some tourists in an area not set up for passing.

So here I sit, exhausted, smelly, with a fat cat in my lap, wondering if I'll be too tired to go to work tomorrow. Sure feels like it. I mean, I'm not 25 any more...

Little Miss Indigo

2007-03-14T12:14:00.000-07:00

Last night I got into a g-mail chat with one of my oldest dearest friends, Susan, whom I met just out of college in some church group. She is now married with three beautiful children and seems to be living the life most would envy, yet I know better. Between nanny issues, a too-brilliant-for-his-own-good son, (this kid remembered my name after not seeing me a year.. when he was FOUR), uppity neighbors and a husband who works himself to death, it ain't easy. She told me about some things she's tried that have actually helped her; one is the discovery of the term "indigo" for personalities and why we (she considers me one too) have a harder time than most assimilating into this society. My favorite trait on the list is this:

Have deep empathy for others, yet an intolerance of stupidity.

Some others also rang true:

Can easily be taken advantage of because of your innate desire to be
of service.
May be idealistic or hypercritical
You are a great BS detector and you do not like people who lie and who
do not come from integrity.
Are afraid to stand in your power or speak your truth, for fear of not
being heard or understood
You are a pleaser

She said, We have no interest in getting into the box.
Yet we are frustrated that so many others want to, and we don't understand why.

I often thought these things had more to do with my birth sign, although since I am wholeheartedly opposed to studying such things (not that there's not something to it, God just says "hey don't go there") I never gave it a lot of thought. But now someone has finally found a category for me. I feel like I need to seek this stuff out; find a community of us "misunderstoods".

She's beeing doing something called "EFT", "Emotional Freedom Techniques" and even suggested a therapist in my area who embraces this. I need to read up on it more before deciding if therapy would help.

The other book I'm reading was recommended by a friend who has fallen under the spell of Scientology (from Christianity, to my regret), but I'm humoring her by reading one of L Ron's books, The Science of Survival. (I read Dianetics, it had some interesting points.) As with all religions, they all have some element of truth. And if I can take away a few gems from it, what is the harm. Plus it will give me some insight into her odd cult.

It's not like I'm looking for another answer besides Jesus; I'm looking for answers as to why I don't like hardly anyone I meet in churches. With all the buzz about the law of attraction (e.g. The Secret) I have to examine why here is a religion, Jesus, that I was attracted to, and so are others, yet I'm not experiencing much attraction factor when it comes to the others in this religion. At least, in the fundamentally styled non-denoms or something close to it I've been attending for nearly 30 years. I finallly did find a church I feel I can attend, the offshoot (church plant) of the mega-church I've been attending. The pastor is also a graphic designer, so we have that in common. After service they do a community-style lunch and I sat with a couple who seemed about my age. We got talking about movies and she just didn't get "Little Miss Sunshine" and I'm thinking, how can you not 'get' that movie? How can you not LOVE that family and all their problems? She also was afraid to dress in any way that didn't scream conservative.

I also found out from my friend Susan that Chuck Jr. quit his church last year, Calvary Capo Beach. I was there when both his wife and the worship pastor left in the same week. Back when he had hair. There's an interesting article about it in the LA Times (Father, Son and Holy Rift). Come to think about it, I went to Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa back when Chuck Smith Sr. had hair.

CSI Whistler

2007-03-12T09:04:00.000-07:00

11 years ago at Whistler I made arrangements to stay a little longer with someone outside my group, but my alarm didn't go off on time the morning we were supposed to leave, and no one in my group knew where I was. When I finally got a hold of someone they said that they were worried, but had been reassured that "nothing bad ever happens in Whistler". What a difference a decade makes. On my way to the hotel pickup place for the catboarding operator, I noticed a major corridor in the village had been blocked off with police tape, police cars were all over and several guards were making sure no one crossed the yellow tape. This was about 7:15 am. The tape was still up when I got back that afternoon, with foot traffic being re-routed.

I picked up one of the local freebee papers and read that there had been three sexual assaults, make sure you don't walk alone at night. The night before I'd walked alone through a dark passageway about 11 pm. A guy was behind me and I turned around to look at him. If he did anyything to me I wanted to at least recognize his face. Fortunately I made it to the lit street path without any difficulty. I thought I was going to have company for the 15 minute walk from the restuarant to the condo, but by the time I got my coat and hat and umbrella put together, I looked up and everyone was gone.

Turns out there had been a shooting in the plaza. Someone had heard a siren around 5am.

More pics from the weekend.

Dead Celeb

2007-02-09T09:20:00.000-08:00

So the infamous Anna Nicole Smith got out of life yestserday. Suprising, to say the least. Too bad she wasn't able to watch Oprah last night. It was all about how the energy you put out there attracts the same energy back. Go to www.thesecret.tv to check it out.

Eating Raw

2007-01-21T18:49:00.000-08:00

I won't go into how I discovered this method of eating, but so far it's made me feel really great. But salads with sprouted lentils can only go for so long before one gets a little bored. So I checked out Raw Foods: The "Uncook" Book from the library. The guy who wrote it has a highly praised restaurant in San Francisco, not just for its healthy cuisine but for its taste! I decided to try one of his main course recipes, Pasta Marinara.

Pasta was made by using a carrot peeler on zucchini squash, then slicing the part with the seeds into long, thin slices. They really do have the same texture as pasta! The recipe for the sauce and the dish called for fresh herbs, which were a little pricey at the grocers, but man did they smell wonderful chopping them up.

Portabella mushroom and onions were marinated in a form of soy sauce called Shuya.

One of the ingredients of the pasta sauce was red wine. (The pasta sauce and main dish ingredients were similar, except for red wine and 1 cup of olive oil). I just happened to have a bottle. This is the only tragedy that occurred during my cooking: I didn't push the opener down far enough, and when lifting out the cork, it broke. The bottom portion was not coming up, so it was just going to have to go down. I managed to find a spoon handle narrow enough to fit down the wine bottle, and with quite a bit of downward effort, it... gave way and exploded red wine over most of the kitchen and my shirt.

I poured out the wine through a wire strainer to get out the little bits of cork, and then put the strained liquid into my plastic Netrition milkshake container. It's all I have! Too bad, because the wine is quite good.

So now I have my wine-spotted shirt soaking in a pot that had boiling water (one theory) also have a bottle of Spot Begone, and they also say white wine takes out red wine spots. I'll try that one if necessary.. and if I can get the white wine open without any more fiascos.

I wasn't very hungry, having had a large-ish lunch of Thai food that was cooked. But OMG this was freaking DELICIOUS! The recipe says this makes food for two. Two NFL linebackers. I'll be finding ways to use the sauce all week long.

But it was a LOT of work, time consuming to chop and mince herbs, ginger, garlic, more herbs, more ginger, sundried tomatoes, more garlic, shallots, fresh tomatoes... and I'm thinking that somehow I need to find an endless supply of fresh chopped herbs. So I'm in the market for a food processor. Investigating one on Craig's list, blender/processor combo for $20. If it has more than one blade in the processor, it's MINE! I should also invest in a sharp knife. Some of those herbs will be in too small quantities for processing; they'll end up with their majority stuck to the side of the processor.

So why raw foods? I mean, crap, this is kinda like being VEGAN, which is just CRAZINESS. (I'll still eat honey.) Well... the theory goes that all living food (seeds, plants, legumes, nuts) contain an enzyme that makes them easy for our bodies to digest. Heat that plant item to above 116 degrees and you kill the enzyme, and your body can't absorp as much nutrition.

I've noticed just in the last couple weeks (started this around the 3rd or 4th of January) that I am not waking up with the usual headachey wanting to sleep all day feeling, and generally feel better throughout the day. I also don't belch right after eating (farting is a whole other story!) like I do with cooked foods. And that's still eating some cooked foods (soy milk, dry cereal, garbanzo beans).

I don't rightly know if it's going to cause weight loss either because I don't weigh myself. But Friday I went to my primary care doctor, and they always weigh you. Okay here it is for the entire internet universe: 134.4 (without shoes). I don't honestly know what it was last time I got weighed. I'm pretty sure it was more than that.

Saturday was an amazing day at Mt. Baker. Powder and partners. 3 hours of bliss. My knees are killing me today.

American Idol Auditions

2007-01-19T09:10:00.000-08:00

Click on the title and my questions are answered!!!

UPS ads

2007-01-18T19:11:00.000-08:00

Why are the UPS ads on television using background music by the band, The Postal Service?

New Year, New "talent"

2007-01-18T08:59:00.000-08:00

Sat through the Seattle auditions for American Idol last night. Supposedly the worst bunch of auditions in the entire history of AI, and the cameras and editors had a ball with it. My theory is that all the good talent in Seattle is already happy creating their own music for the hundreds of venues across the city, engaging their talent and knowing that AI is just a crap fest, so why bother. This leaves the talentless, the freaks, those completely in denial about themselves. And most of the freaks they showed were not even FROM Seattle. So don't blame that fine city.

If any of you reading this watched AI, and you remember the "monkey boy" and the really really fat dude who tried to sing God Bless America, who became fast friends... and that creepy dude from Salt Lake City area... this is what shows up to singles groups (okay Space City Mixers is an exception; they weren't too horrid). But church-based singles groups.... yes... the demographic was represented well last night.

I thought that Ryan, Paula, Simon and Randy were exceedingly gracious and showed a huge amount of compassion and restraint. But Simon made comments about people's looks, and if looks are as much a part of it as voice, then the auditioners should be prescreened. I can't help but think that they already are - no way all those thousands of people in line can all get an audience of the golden three in one weekend (but I haven't researched it either). And if that's the case, then why torture them with the freakshows?

I'm Dreaming of a White Trailer

2006-12-24T21:01:00.000-08:00

This morning I was going to go snowboarding with one of my friends who has left the area for a job, but was back home for Christmas. I knew that her mother lived in a trailer in a rural area not far from Everson. You know, one of those little country roads dotted with tidy farms, not-so-tidy farms, and small, patched up trailers surrounded by mud.

My friend usually meets me at a grocery store along the highway and we go from there, but since her truck was full of her belongings she asked if I would come and pick her up at home mom's. Her mom's home is literally over the river and through the woods, and although I sense that most of the woods have been cleared for those farms, there were remnants of what looked like at least second growth stands of very old trees along the road. Some sections of the drive gave stunning views of Mt. Baker and the surrounding hillsides, today with a light coating of powdered sugar.

At first I missed the turn off from the dirt road; the home is set back from the gravel road via a very long driveway. The driveway had some big pot holes but was otherwise navigable. There was a fenced area to the right, a chicken wire contraption with some sort of shelter partially wrapped in Tyvec; a few chickens in there barely noticeable amongst the piled debris and things that clearly need to be taken to the dump. The trailer was a long single-wide ramshackle affair surrounded by untended earth. On the porch to the trailer I was greeted by two humongous goats. They stood there blocking my way until my friend called them off. "Guardians of the castle?" I asked. "They used to live in the caged area. Now they're everywhere, and their shit is everywhere. It's disgusting. My mom just lets them go anywhere."

I had to use the restroom so I went inside, greeted by rank, uncirculating air, unmistakable as eau d' wet-dog (my friend has a dog, but her own places have never smelled like this). Piles of presents were stacked up against a wall in what looked like a living room. My eyes averted the rest of the place, its mess shrouded in dim lighting. I didn't want to have the image burned on my retina any more than it had to be.

My friend said it had gotten worse there recently and she is a little worried about her mom. I've met her mom, and she is a nice lady, very down to earth, low key, probably not educated, kind of hippy-ish. There's another home in the back (I didn't see it) under construction that her brothers have started to build but it sits there unfinished. My friend figures it's going to be just as bad in there once it is finished, because of the goats.

By that time the sore throat I'd awoken with was not going away and my head felt as light and icky as it did earlier. Sometimes these things clear up, but today this was not the case. I've been fighting something since Wednesday, so I left my friend there and went home. It was just as well for her; she was hung over. I had to call another friend I was going to pick up further down the road, and while standing with my back to my open car door chatting on the phone, I turned around to find both goats sniffing around my steering column! They seemed to know "NO" and "GET OUT" very well.

Heading back, still in the same area I missed a turn, and decided to turn around rather than risk a lengthy detour. I spotted a driveway and turned into it. There was another single-wide patch job surrounded by earth and five older vehicles. I wondered if it was as much of a disaster inside as out.

Blowing Up at the Computer

2006-12-21T10:39:00.000-08:00

My bank decided they needed to up their security policies for online banking. They explained it was due to the increase in identity theft. I can understand the need to cover their electronic asses, but the selection of "carefully researched" questions lead me to having a hissy fit on the phone with some bank employee. I had three questions to provide a security answer for; each question had a choice of eight questions to choose from. The first set of questions wasn't too hard to choose; one asked me which college I went to (so they assume I went to college). This was out of 8 choices, and all the others asked me about my spouse or my child. The second set of questions was more bothersome. Four out of the eight asked me questions about my child. One asked which city my parents were married in. (I have no clue and they are dead.) One asked me about my spouse. One asked me about my father's youngest sibling (what if he was an only child? actually he was a twin.) And the last one asked what is the nickname of my youngest sibling. Well I'm the youngest, and I sure as heck am not going to put my own name down for a security question.

I didn't look closely at the third set of questions; I figured they were as biased as the first set.

Whoever "carefully researched" these questions all had a close-knit, multi-sibling extended family, none had pets, all were married and college educated. Surely, everyone who uses online banking must have all these common attributes.

After getting nowhere on the phone with these assclowns I went ahead and made up answers for all the questions. The answers had nothing to do with the questions and everything to do with profanity. Certainly that is an answer I can remember.

Of Words and Spelling

2006-12-14T11:07:00.000-08:00

Most of my adult life I've wanted the Official Scrabble Dictionary. I had visions of an entire new source of words to play the game, words that normally wouldn't fly but "it's in the Scrabble dictionary!" I finally purchased a paperback version during a sale at my campus bookstore. Words I discovered were in there like "zzz", meaning the sound you make when snoring. I figured "ss" should be in there for the sound made by a snake, but it wasn't. Strike one. Then Paul found a word that was spelled incorrectly. INCORRECT SPELLING OF A WORD IN A DICTIONARY. A scrabble dictionary, published by Merriam Webster. How could I trust it now? How? I could not. Strike 2. I'm playing 2-strike baseball.

I brought the book back to the Western Washington University bookstore where I'd picked it up for under $7. Brenda, the self-described "walking dictionary" behind the counter, wanted to know which word it was. And anyone reading this probably does too. The word was lagniappe. The scrabble dictionary spelled it without the "i". It's not even an alternate spelling. It's a mistake. Oddly the Merriam Webster full version had it spelled correctly. Are these even the same publishers? Is this some Brazilian version that's snuck it's way into the US market?

The current dictionary I own was purchased for college, which was decades ago. I'm sure it's completely out of date, as language evolves with cultural changes and new discoveries. How many new species of reptiles have been discovered over the past 20 years? How many of them are now useful high-scoring Scrabble words?

A Run called Taylor St.

2006-11-26T21:37:00.000-08:00

It snowed here today. A lot. The first image was taken around 10 or 11 am, and the latter one just after 3. Around 1:30 I took a couple runs down some local streets. The video of one of those runs is linked from the title of this blog entry.

School is closed tomorrow, but if I don't go in I have to take a vacation day. So I'm going in, but being that it's atop a hill AND it's supposed to snow some more, I'm bringing my board for the commute home.

It's eerily quiet around here, the train tracks are buried, cars are non existant in the park below and even on the main street above my home. I wish it snowed like this more often, but I know this is all we're going to get here this season.

November Powder Storm

2006-11-25T10:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I took my first turns of the season. Chair 1 had a long line and after some miscommunication and gear forgettals and remembrances (hey I'm out of practice) Jennifer and I were set to go and "kill some powder", a phrase she picked up from a mt baker dirtbag last year, but the ticket agent said it would be another 1/2 hour before it opened. So we skidded down to chair 3 (this is the only resort I know where every lift but one is accessible from one or the other parking lot) and began our slaughter. The first run was barely cut up, light-for-Baker powder, and soon we turned off the run into something that was so deep and a little on the steep side I didn't know what to do with myself, being it my first run of the season, since April, I mean, I wasn't ready. This was "hotels" one of those runs that isn't named on the map. Every time I fell, I could feel a slough of snow filling in behind me, pushing me to keep going. I quickly realized my decision to bring my "rock board" was a mistake, but it was too late now. The bottom of the run was a 4' gap with roots sticking out onto a slough. At that point I was a little glad I had the rock board.

Next run we hit chair 6, which brings you within about 75 ft of the highest lift access point on the mountain. We could see boarders flying down under the chair bouncing off rises, floating and landing effortlessly in the pillows below. We cut right into the trees and I finally "let go", nevemind that my face was completely covered and view blocked by flying snow, just keep heading down hill and everything will be okay. And it was more than okay.

The only trouble I managed to get myself into was our run from chair 1. There is a cliff line that stretches for maybe 1/8 - 1/4 mile with only a couple sane ways out, but cutting it close to the cliff line can afford some great powder rewards. We dropped into a bowl too early. I watched as Jennifer got stuck in a toilet bowl shaped situation with one track, so I tried to stay higher. Only I wasn't high enough and the light was as flat as it could possibly be. My board wouldn't budge any more, only digging in deeper. I was buried to my thighs. She told me to try taking off my board. When I did and stepped off it I was buried up to my shoulders. I panicked in a way that I am ashamed of, and she went to get ski patrol.

I saw a way out that would have involved her backtracking and finding the cut over into the Chute, underneath chair 1. She didn't want to go that way, so I figured she would cut to the right to get out of the cliff area. Soon she disappeared over the rise and I was left as a little blue flower bud popping out of a field of white.

Get a grip, I not in any real danger. It's not even noon, there is a ski track about 50 ft away, and hey I have a shovel! By the time I put my shovel together any buried person would have suffocated (need to work on that), but it's not like I was in any particular hurry either. Mostly I started digging to give myself something to do, keep my mind occupied and my body warm. I was wearing my spring pants, the ones I wear as a joke - two blue and two black vertical stripes per pant leg with a string cinch and velcro-closed pockets. The gaitor doesn't stay around the boots very well. I wore these because when I got to my boyfriend's house I had forgotten my bonfire pants and had lent these to him the week before. (He found something less loud to wear.) They weren't much defense against the falling snow and stinging cold of the snow ditch I found myself in.

I tried to reattach my snowboard but quickly found out that I would just sink again up to my thighs, and that digging was easier with my feet free of bindings. So I just placed the board next to me and started pitching snow downslope, digging enough for one foot to move forward a few inches, then the other. I continued this as I could see people from chair one looking over at me, and the luckier ones having the powder run of their lives on the ridge above; the ridge I should have been on. Where is the patrol? I'll have myself free by the time they arrive.

After what was probably a half hour of digging and inching, I reached the slightly filled-in skier track. The track had compressed the snow just enough that now I could get on my board and I wouldn't sink! Getting up was no small feat; I had to use my shovel as a prop. And then a propellor. It was still pretty flat, so I used the shovel as a kind of oar, digging into the side of the track to push myself forward. I managed to get to the edge of the rope line, and put my shovel away. Just then three guys came, two skiers and one boarder. The skiers gave the thumbs up to the boarder, and it looked like he followed my track and then completely biffed where my track and the existing one intersected. They gave a hearty laugh and I realized these weren't patrollers like I originally thought. I asked them if you could get out of here going to the right. "By hiking up the hill, but we're going to the left." I could see tracks heading off to the left following the rope, and started worrying about Jennifer.

I followed in their tracks and managed to get to the Chute without difficulty. I had to take one more chair to get back to the lodge. Certainly Jennifer would be waiting for me there, but I only found Paul. I explained what happened and he reminded me that I should tell patrol that I was safe. I went to the info booth and a call had gone out; I heard her saying that "she dug herself out; was safe and here in Heather Meadows lodge." She thanked me for letting them know and told me to stick around the lodge to wait for my friend, as I was sure she had gone the wrong way out of North Face.

Jennifer showed up about a half hour later. Turns out the trollers had told her to wait at chair 3, only a stone's throw from the chair I had to take back to the lodge. I didn't think to look there. But she had gone the wrong way at the rope line, ended up hiking an hour through the snow to get to a familiar run. She said we could have gone straight it wouldn't have been that bad, in spite of the severe warning signs along the rope.

I didn't ride much after that. The snow was coming down in larger and more consistent flakes, Paul and I went out and played on the rope tow. For his first day he did alright, at least he wasn't cursing me for introducing him to this punishing sport that most people don't pick up unless they're in their more bounceable teens or 20s.

Mt. Baker Opens Thursday

2006-11-13T11:31:00.000-08:00

I might have to eat up a vacation day. I've never been to opening day but I've heard it's fantastic.

I got surf yesterday at Clallum Bay, best known for its detention center rather than its rivermouth perfection. It was a freak gift, first place we looked at on the strait, no one out, perfect lefts careening over a perfect sandbar. Some freakishly large ones rolled in; it was difficult to position yourself with the river current and inconsistent sets. I missed as many as I caught, but the ones I caught gave me clean barrel cover-ups down fast, steep lines...

Things that go "ka blooey"

2006-11-09T21:30:00.000-08:00

Hi. My name is Myrl. I've been around for about ten years, the product of overly aggressive manipulation of below-the-skin pimples. Most people didn't notice me, but I annoyed my host with great frequency. It's not as though she has perfect skin, far from it, but I was an extruding reminder of that fact. Until today.

I guess I got too big for my britches. I started growing, just a little, I mean I couldn't help it. 10 year olds have growth spurts. Well apparently this pissed her off because next thing I know, I'm getting injected with cortisone by a doctor of dermatology! I couldn't believe it, was she really serious about getting rid of me? It's not like I was causing any physical harm. I was just "there," enjoying what I thought was a peaceful coexistance.

Well I was really mad about that poke, you know, so I surrounded that cortisone junk with more pimples. A really big one, just over the top of me. It was hurting her so she tried to get rid of it, but all the pressure did was inflame me and move me lower on her chin. You'd think that would have taught her. But no.

A few more weeks later I got another needle spewing that awful steroid in me, and then another right next to it! Oh the indignity! The doctor even said I'd become "separated". Didn't she learn from the first round of cortisone? I shot off deep pimples all over around her mouth. They were coming up like dandelions in the spring grass. She even spent almost 100 bucks on some fancy prescription anti-acne treatments to mitigate the damage.

But I felt great. I'd never lived so large, or drew so much attention from her. I had little red blood arteries, as fine as a mosquito's nose, shaped like a tiny tree, blossoming right below the surface of the skin. I even had a dark brown spot that I'm not even sure what it was. But I liked it. It was new and exciting.

But I was in greater jeopardy than ever. She called that dermotologist again, trying to get in even sooner, complaining of the pain I was causing her and the size. Luckily for me, they weren't able to schedule her. I thought I was off the hook. How wrong I was.

Some of these newly formed pimples came up just on the side of me and some even right under the surface of the epidermis. There was so much pressure under me I could feel the skin canopy stretching. Pores that were hardly there before became gaping holes. One even became a visible white head, the kind that respond easily to pressure. She went after that one with a decent result. I could tell the pressure was getting to her. She couldn't leave me alone! Kept massaging me, measuring me, pushing on me, watching my shape change hour by hour. Yes, I had swollen to the jaw line, a huge lump mass.

My insides started pouring out at just the slightest hint of a steel blade poking at the stretched skin's surface. All my yellow, greenish, sticky substances, some that had been hiding in there for years, were now all over the bathroom counter, exposed, splayed. I was even suprised how little pressure it took to expel. That skin that had stretched so far for me was now a sagging pocket of redness. It took her three q-tip sessions to get rid of all of my insides, and believe me they're not pretty to look at.

But I'm still in there. I may be skinny and scrawny and have no character or depth, but one day I hope to fill again and be seen by the world.

- Mryl

My name in print

2006-11-09T11:57:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Iain for noticing this.

http://www.nydailynews.com/boroughs/story/441302p-371761c.html

My story was worse than the couple of quotes he grabbed, but I didn't think it was enough to print because I ended up receiving the product in the end.

Halloween fright

2006-10-25T15:14:00.000-07:00

The log-in screen at the school where I work is changed seasonally. Last year I created an elaborate halloween movie but was unable to post it. This year I took an image from the movie and submitted that:

Apparently this was too much for a couple of faculty members, becoming offended at red color under the window. The students were fine with it, but this place is littered with panties-in-a-wad stuffed shirts. I'm not sure what the gender of the faculty were. Imagine if the movie had gone through. Here's a link to the original attempt at it.

I'm bad.

2006-10-13T14:21:00.000-07:00

One of my coworkers flies through reams of paper on the color printer assigned to my office. I don't mind it so much except that she never puts forth any effort to replace the paper.

I have two boxes left of highly calendered plotter paper, 8.5x11. It's not bright white but oh is it smooth. Her last job ate the last of that paper that was in the tray and then there was the rest of the brighter white cheap copy paper. So I had an idea. I have a stack of pumpkin orange paper in another drawer. I stuck that in the printer and hid the other boxes of more expensive paper.

Today sure enough she starts printing and comes in to see her job printed on orange! She kind of chuckled and said orange wouldn't work, and stopped the job. She took out the orange and went on her way. A few minutes later it ran out of paper and she came back in and started getting a bit higher blood pressure with her sighing and panting.... "Where is there more paper?"
"I don't know. Might be out."

She left the office in a huff and came back with paper from somewhere... not sure where...

I wish all my bills were like this.

2006-09-29T10:19:00.000-07:00

Look carefully in the pink area. Nothing in front of the period designating cents... This is not a mistake. This is the amount my insurance would not cover. Thankfully, Madrona is absorbing it. Although, now I guess they won't' get their pensions.

Because it's the right thing to do?

2006-09-26T12:33:00.000-07:00

A tranquil start, anyway. View from my bus stop.

I have a new scanner in my office, and it's hooked up to a new PC and I think I have used it three times. A coworker wanted to use it yesterday. First thing, the computer wouldn't find it. It had been turned off while the computer was still powered up, and apparently the pc can only find the scanner once per boot. I told her to reboot the computer. She rebooted the scanner. I repeated that the scanner had been shut off and the computer hadn't and she should retry rebooting the pc. She finally relented and rebooted the pc.

I got a call to go help someone with a Word document, they were trying to make a memo out of stationery I'd created for another professor. Layout in Word. The two are in vastly different universes. Word is counter intuitive to a designer. I was able to help her but it took about 10 minutes longer than it should have.

I come back and the lady trying to use the scanner is stumped and asks me to take a look. I'd forgotten that for some reason, the scanner menu is hidden at the bottom of the screen, nearly invisible. I guess the first time I used it, I dragged it down there out of the way for some reason, and forever that image is imprinted in the scanner software's memory. Another hurdle hurdled.

Himming and hawing out loud very loudly for some time she starts reading me the error messages on the screen generated by the scanning software and that oh no, it's frozen. I don't say much except that I haven't used Adobe Elements to create scans, although it should be easier to do it that way. She tries again and gets the same error. I tell her to try using the scanning software directly without Adobe. It seems to work, scans the image in the "overview" pane, but then gets an error for the next scan. I'm across the room and can't see exactly what she's doing. It's always just worked for me. She said it's "obviously broken" and I replied that it's always worked for me. I told her there's a huge manual that's very helpful on the desk, or she can call our own Helpdesk. "Oh so you're not going to help me, alright. I'll get this done somewhere else."

I helped her when she asked for help. Reading the error messages of the screen, sighing loudly, repeatedly saying "okay, okay hm now what" is NOT asking for help. It's noise to be ignored. And I did help her when she needed to move the interface window from the bottom of the screen and told her to reboot the pc. Those things were helpful.

But just because this hardware happens to be in my office means that I'm the de-facto technical support for it? We have people for that. An entire department devoted to hardware. Use them.

Free food and used shoes

2006-09-26T09:40:00.001-07:00

Couldn't let a lovely fall weekend day pass without a hunt for wild blueberries thinly disguised as a hike in the Cascade mountains, just a bit over an hour's drive east. And north. Then west and south, then east again. The road is very indirect. The day before I'd scored when killing time at a consignment store. I've needed new hiking boots for over a year, my 1997 Lowa's are about dead on the inside. Loosely living by the Compact standards, which I do just slightly better than my no-sugar standard and worse than my no-dairy standard, I'm not required to buy used shoes. But these Mephisto suede hikers looked barely used and were probably only there because the original purchaser hiked Everest and lost both feet to frostbite. Even the tongue slot for the laces was virginal. So here I am posing in my newly acquired shoes I paid less than $20 for (retail similar? I couldn't find them. But men's equivalents were upwards $350) and some early A.D. Maddox original hand-painted jeans. I'm stainding next to a rock pile, one of the few we left standing. Nothing is more fun than wiping out a carefully constructed rock tower (there were hundreds of them) by flinging another rock. Bonus points for using a small rock as your weapon. So this is not much of a hiking outfit, but I was more concerned with these:
Plus I knew that it would get us away from the high-pitched whine of offspring. On such a nice day parking was tight. The vending machine for parking passes was busted in one area and non-existant where I'd bought one last year. Sorry Northwest Forest Pass beneficiaries. Fix your freaking machines.

NOPD: Not Our Problem, Dude!

2006-08-29T20:19:00.000-07:00

Today marks the year anniversary of hurricane Katrina. I got to see the devastation up close and personal this past weekend. Miles of it, truly unfathomable. Much debris had been removed - dead cars and boats, but many structures that were beyond repair were still standing. Looked like some people were inhabiting their 9th ward homes without electricity, most homes demolished or abandoned.
We toured all along the levees, down to the harbor, where Joes Crab Shack still stood but whatever building next to it was there, wasn't there any more. The dead boats had been removed, and what should have been a busy day along Lake Pontchartrain , was nearly deserted... parks overgrown, palm trees held up with supports.
In the Broadmoor neighborhood one home was built higher and only flooded the basement. And, it was the only home to not get looted. However, after 26 years of residency in this upscale neighborhood the owners have decided to move to Baton Rougue. It belongs to my boyfriend's brother.
More on the trip later, and more on my previous trip. I came back with a nasty sinus infection so it's off to bed for po' me.

Things that make me cranky

2006-08-07T15:54:00.000-07:00

I've been having back problems due in part to a computer desk that was too high for me. I tried the pullout keyboard tray (that turned out to be a piece of sh*t), the footstool (that broke after about 6 months), taking all the feet out from the desk, even pieces of 2x4 underfoot to try to get the correct balance of chair height and desk height... to no avail. It was a nice big corner desk with an extended right arm area, full back and shelves below (along with a couple of recently discovered discarded pieces of chewing gum). All I could find to replace it in the "free" and "available" department of the Atomic Dustbin where the school stores it's decrepid furniture was a height adjustable table, and table in the leanest sense of the word.

After nearly breaking my sternum to remove the piece of sh*t keyboard tray from the blue corner desk, the 'new' table came in with the adjustable screw completely locked down. An allen wrench screw. The usual tool guys weren't around so I walked to the other repair area, where I stopped in on one of the managers... He had a blue corner desk a lot like mine and said he's been trying to get the dept. to buy him a desk for three years, but they won't. What part of worker's compensation don't they understand, plus the discomfort and expense of physical therapy for the rest of your life.

I finally got hold of an allen wrench that worked just as Work Control Center representative Jerry came by (I'd called them not knowing what else to do) and he noticed that one of the feet was missing from the table.

Missing a foot. My computer is splayed across the office with various parts scattered about, the desk is on its side, all my work is on my Mac, which is sitting useless on the floor next to the paper cutter. I'm being taken back down to the Armory to pilfer a foot off another table, but it being Monday, I'm not coming back up here. I'm half way home from down there already.

Meanwhile here's some hats to go with your croc clogs.

First Date Analysis

2006-08-03T11:59:00.000-07:00

I wanted to try the $3.95 happy hour burgers at the Fairhaven Pub and Martini bar, but aside from the underground/dark/stuffy atmosphere there was a very loud auction going on. So we walked down to Stanello's instead for some disappointing food.

We sat on the west-facing deck and the service was a bit slow, so it was hard not to overhear the conversation across from us. An asian woman who looked Thai perhaps, and a blond haired man wearing blue-blockers and sporting a third trimester pregnancy. They looked about mid-late 20s.

I wrote on the napkin because I didn't want my conversation with Paul overheard. "Blind date, next table over?" His penned response: "Met online. Should have exchanged photos." He asked her a couple times if she collected anything... I think she said "books." She didn't ask what he collected. I wouldn't be suprised if his response had been "Star Wars action figures" and "Magic game pieces". His shiney white tennis shoes had never seen the inside of a gym. [In walks my lung specialist and her date and sits at the table beyond ours. (I've been coughing since March.)] I wrote on the napkin "Desperately seeking something in common." His response "Maybe she's into blue blockers."

He asked if she liked Sushi. I think she said no. This fellow was trying so hard. She asked about his work schedule. 6:30 am - 1pm then various things. I'm thinking it was a first meeting because the conversation had no flow, and wouldn't you know whether or not someone likes sushi if that were not the case?

They had pizza and most of it was wrapped to go. After they left we picked at our mediocre italian plates (I had to slurp my spaghetti, it was so runny) and I felt my cough coming on. I did not supress it like I might normally do at a restaurant.

Of coding and such

2006-07-31T10:44:00.000-07:00

I'm undergoing labor pains trying to birth a brand new e-commerce store. I managed to completely hose the store by trying to satisfy the client's requirements of having handling fees that vary with the product sold. Somehow I managed to replace enough old code to keep it from error-messaging out now, and I refuse to touch it any more: PHP, you have made me afraid. Very very afraid. Am using OS Commerce, if anyone out there reading this has any ideas. Already installed UPS XML with Dimensions support, which also nearly frightened me.

The client is now consulting with a real coder, not an actionscript hack like myself who is much better at choosing colors and font sizes.

Speaking of Actionscript I had created a file in 2004 that never went live pending permissions, well permissions are here but when I try to edit the file with Flash 8, hah! the thing crashes, chokes, frustrates. So I'm redoing the entire file set with cleaner, meaner code - whereas before it was a different set of images and whatnot on every frame, it is now all action script on a couple frames even using (gasp!) XML. I like XML. I can create the names of my own descriptive tags. For instance, the "it took a PH.D to write that unintellible gibberish!" interpretations of the sculpture are called "hightower". Some of the button names are rather interesting as well. I tried not to put any script on the buttons but control them through the actionscript. Only worked for certain things, but not others.. such as moving a movie clip that was previous loaded into on _x and _y spot... nor loading the various xml files for each hunk of rotting steel/concrete/etc.

And what iis the difference between a rotting car in a front yard and what is deemed "sculpture"? I see very little. They're both fun to look at, make fun of, make you wonder why it's there and notice its interaction with the landscape.

Big relief. And..

2006-07-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

Turns out it was my error in customizing the javascript, making one file not show up.

I am constantly revising famous quotes in my head. Here's the latest one that popped into my demented mind:
Give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach him how to fish, he eats for a lifetime... as long as the native tribes aren't allowed to gillnet the streams to extinction.

IE Hell

2006-07-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

All those pretty sites I posted will need reworking. Bloody Microsoft sucks. No one should use their browser. But as I was writing this a minute ago, Firefox crashed. I can't win.

One solution works but won't display more than one swf on a page. The other displays two swfs but won't allow transparency. Do I use up one of my two free tech support calls to Adobe? First I'm trying a forum. Cyan Blue, an old timer there, has responded but obviously didn't read my post very thoroughly... Here's all the action on that one, http://www.actionscript.org/forums/showthread.php3?t=111106

Okay I'm going for a walk. Clear my head.

Site Launches

2006-07-08T00:17:00.000-07:00

I've been very busy these days helping some folks out with their web sites. I've finally launched a few, with a few more yet to come or be completed.

A.D. Maddox Gallery
My first "e-commerce" web site -- I'm having all kinds of fun figuring out how to modify a PHP based shopping cart that is a free download. The third install had to be done by the host (InMotion Hosting) to get the secure server to work correctly. Which means all the work I did to upload products and modify the UI on the second install had to be redone. The first cart system I tried, Zen-cart, was a piece of work. After uploading an update, I could no longer assign quantities. And it never went to a secure server to log in . The shopping cart site still probably needs another 10-15 hours of work, including links from the site that is live. We're still working out how to handle shipping of products so varied that going by weight alone just ain't gonna cut it.

The Cottage Photographer
I met Jennifer Stanton through a friend of her boyfriend at the time. Her original site had been done on a trade, but after the wedding the site languished. The slide shows were thrown together with another free PHP download, this one is a lazy-man script: just throw everything in a directory, list the file names in order if you want in a text file, and the script does the rest. Only problem is very little is controllable, and it didn't integrate very well with the rest of the site. So I switched to Flash. I still have two more galleries to add and another magazine spread.

Mark Gamba Photographs
I got introduced to Mark by a friend who had known him in New York. Mark wanted the universe when it came to a web site: fast loading, huge images that couldn't be downloaded anonymously, and a page that filled any browser's acreage. User-controlled slide show option without thumbnails. A registration process. The old site had been done in Zope. I could not find anyone who knew how to use Zope, and after trying unsuccessfully to install it on my Mac using Gnu and the Unix equivalent of DOS, I gave up. The host eventually shut down, which gave us a chance to start from scratch. We decided on Inmotion Hosting, which has been great. I hired out some of the coding for the registration functionality. I wish I could design AND program. Few can do both well.

The Wild Bunch Ranch
I met these guys while living in Wyoming. I hadn't done any interface updating since y2k. Nuff said.

I still have to fix up what was formerly the Cajun Babes, and is now CZ and the Bon Vivants. And my own web site, megabite.com. It's a little embarassing, but I just don't have time to keep it up to date.

Netflix follow up

2006-07-03T12:43:00.000-07:00

So I complained hard enough that they extended my free trial 10 days. When they sent the replacement DVD, it was not the Director's cut. Will they ever get it right?

Watched it anyway...

Had an appointment this morning with an asbestos abatement company to scrape the popcorn off of my ceiling. They can do it all in one day. It would take me a week, so the money I spend would be made up for with quality of life. It will, however, take me at least a few days to move my furniture away from the affected areas. Which will render my home unlivable mostly... argh. I know already what a messy job it is and I don't need that kind of torture to my neck and shoulders.

On Weds. I am meeting with a skylight installer... once these two things are accomplished will paint the walls... then perhaps new floors and redo my kitchen cabinets... it's endless when you buy a 70's era living unit.