Seattle flip-floppers

When I arrived back into Seattle a week and a half ago, my friend Benny picked me up from the airport. Luckily I had thought to e-mail him a few days prior to my arrival to ask him to bring a sweater or sweatshirt or something that I could use to clothe myself, as, coming from a tropical zone, I was quite lacking in that area. Benny followed through and let me borrow one of his zip-up hoodies, and I had a pair of long yoga pants, but all I had with me for my feet were flip-flops, or as the British like to call them, "thongs" (which makes me giggle). I wanted to stop at a grocery store before going back to my apartment so that I could stock up on the essentials - 3 boxes of cereal, 2 forms of milk-like liquids and a banana. At the time I thought I probably looked a little silly wearing my flip-flops, (not that I MIND looking silly, it's just usually I look silly because I've planned it that way) and Benny even mentioned that he could hear me coming closer, as I was probably the only person in Seattle wearing flip-flops in November. At the time I figured he was right.

Then I started noticing something - Seattlites are either lazy or have no temperature receptors in their feet. Upon paying more attention, I've noticed a good half dozen or so people wearing flip-flops in the past week (and I haven't been out all that much). I saw a guy wearing shorts and flip-flops, and that's one type of crazy, but then I've seen several people wearing winter clothes, a scarf, and... flip-flops? I mean, far be it for me to judge another's clothing choice, it's just one of those things that makes my mind go... what?...

I used to despise wearing flip-flops until I realized easy they were to deal with and how delightfully they let your toes breathe. I lived in flip-flops the whole time I was in the DR. When I came back to Seattle and put on socks for the first time, my feet yelled up to me, "what are you doing! You're SMOTHERING me!"

"But feet," said I, "it's cold in this here place, and I need to keep you safe and warm, because you are so very pretty."

"Very well then," said feet. And then they tried to say something else but I couldn't understand the muffled words through the soft, cottony goodness of my warm socks.

Falling for fall?

I'm BACK, baby! Back in Seattle. I thought I'd be miserable, I thought the rain would seep into my bones in a manner of seconds after getting off the plane and depression would set in only minutes afterward. And yet the most wonderful thing has happened; happiness.

Happiness. I'm somewhat unsure of where exactly it's coming from, but I love it. I've never been this happy to be alive in the fall before. All the sights and smells are extraordinary to me, whereas in years past they were merely somewhat pleasant niceties that preceded the dark days of winter. I've become lost in the splendor of apples and cinnamon and crisp air and warm blankets. At times I'm downright giddy with electric excitement to be alive. It's a miraculous thing when just biting into an apple causes waves of luscious pleasure to spill about my body. And don't get me started about what happens when the apple has just been dipped in a chocolate/fig spread!

I don't know if it's the 2 1/2 month vacation, the fact that my vitamin D levels are sky-high, or the "happy pills" my nurse practitioner has had me take for the past few months (better living through chemistry?? - I guess it might be worth it, after all). I would imagine it's a combination of the three, plus great extras like super friends and general rat proximity, but life really is grand.

Maybe now I can try to write a happy song for my guitar.

Donde esta el ron!

It's hard to believe it's all coming to a close. I have gotten much into the habit of life amidst the Cossitt/Pernal household. Yet all good things...

I have learned quite a lot here, about myself, about kids and dogs and marriages and Spanish. It's been fantastically educational to dip my toes into the lives of these people so vastly different from my own life. I think a lot of times people get stuck in their own little worlds, and it becomes hard to remember that other people don't have the same ideas and thoughts on life, and often it is simply because their experiences and frames of reference are just different. My sister and her family lead a life so very different from mine. I am sometimes delighted by how things work in this household, and sometimes appalled. And yet I've enjoyed just soaking it all in. I'm sure they have many criticisms about the way I lead my life, (and they've made a few of them widely known to me!) in the end we accept each others' differences and for the most part, my two months here have been pretty even sailing. Each day I try to remember to take a moment and be grateful for such a loving and accepting family.

Oh, so date night, was... well, it was a lot of things. Mostly it was yet another reminder of my utter inability to feel attracted to any man who might actually be good for me. This guy is good-looking, well-educated, into music, fairly stable, wants to get married, wants to have kids, and yet I'm totally uninterested. Great. Honestly, at this point, I'd rather have Reckless Clive in my life than a boyfriend. Speaking of which -

I finally heard back from a group called Project Samana. They come to the DR twice a year to spay and neuter dogs here. I wrote to them about Clive and they've assured me that as long as they can find her, they'll spay and vaccinate her. The extra good news is that they are coming down the first week in November. So that means I'll only have a short wait to hear if they were successful in finding her. Crossing my fingers big time on this! I should be reciting daily prayers to the canine gods and leaving offerings of fatty chicken outside my door every night.

It's the final countdown

So at last the end is breathing down my back. I've less than a week left in the DR. I'm trying to remember to embrace the good parts about going back to Seattle; amazingly enough I am looking forward to resuming a life of actually having work and responsibilities. I don't have much of either, but I think I have just enough to give some meaning and purpose to my life. While my idle decadence has been enjoyed to the fullest here, there is a facet of happiness that can only be met from physically applying oneself. Sloth is great for a while, but I do yearn for activity. My waistline especially yearns for physical activity, as I've managed to gain 5 pounds since I got here. Hopefully I can be strong-willed enough to rid myself of the bad habits picked up, such as rum and cokes at all hours, neck-packing at dinner (dammit, Dave, why is it all so delicious!), dessert every night, 50 oz. bottles of beer, butter, butter, more butter, corn chips, breakfast-noonsies-lunch-snack-appetizer-dinner-dessert, and all the while rum rum rum.

I sure am heartbroken at the thought of leaving my nephew. It finally makes more sense than ever how you can love this person so much at yet sometimes want to throw them off a cliff. Just when you think you can't stand the relentless questioning and the overly dramatic temper tantrums and the hard iron stubbornness, he'll do something that absolutely melts your heart. And I'm just the auntie who's been here two months. I imagine the feelings must be tenfold in both directions when it's actually your kid.

So, yes, I'll be leaving behind Adian, and the warm tropical weather, the decadent food, the free rum, the absence of responsibilities, the lascivious stares from the Latin men, the 8 hours of sleep every night, the tremendous thunder storms, the fantastic amount of living space, the hammock, and my amazing family that will forever have my utmost gratitude. But Seattle has a lot of great things too, like... er...

My rats!
My friends!

and... um...

good beer!

Geeze I think I might really miss this place ;)

Date night postponed, good news about Clive!

So date night was postponed, but the good news is that date night is still on for Sunday. Dave is making fried chicken and my paramour will be in attendance. Which will be interesting for sure. I already feel kind of like I'm a teenager and Dave is my dad, so Sunday has the potential to be truly uncomfortable, but get enough rum in all of us and I'm sure it'll be just fhaaaaaaaaaane.

And there is good news on the Clive front!!!! I got word today from a woman who lives on the Samana peninsula who works with a group from the US that comes down twice a year to spay and neuter street dogs. I told her about Clive and asked her if there was anything she could do to help get Clive spayed and vaccinated. I didn't hear back for over a week and a half, but she finally got back to me today and said that the group from the US would be in the area the first week of November, and if they could find Clive, they'd spay and vaccinate her! So that's a huge stumbling block potentially cleared. There's still a lot of hurdles to contend with - they may not find her when they are in the area, and even if they do, she may not be there by the time I can come back down here. But still, the spay and vaccination were the biggest difficulty, and even if that's all I can get for her, at least I will have been able to do that for her. So now all I can do is sit back and wait til the first week of November and hope that they are able to find her.

Date night!

Hello gentle blog-readers. Today I tell you of my impending date night. And here I thought I'd make it out of the DR without any liaisons with Dominican men.

I met him while walking the dogs last night, he's one of our neighbors. And here's a shock - he's a skinny guy who plays guitar. My, my, Allison, really breaking away from the norm, aren't we? Hey, at least he's not the typical Allison so white you can partially see through the pale flesh white boy. I told him to take me to a place where we can get really good mofungo. And no, that's not code for something tawdry, that's a local food made with plantains and meat.

And now I'm off to eat deep-fried cheese-filled bacon risotto balls.

Life is nice.

Tired

Today was by far the most active day I've had here yet. Started the morning off with some yoga with Joan, and in the middle of it a friend called and asked if I wanted to go to a Latin dance class with her at a local gym. "Yeah, sure," said I. It was fun and I'm glad I went, but I much prefer dance classes where there is essentially no routine. I'm a great dancer, I just don't learn steps very easily, and although I find some enjoyment in ultimately learning the routine, I much prefer just dancing whichever way the music moves me. But still, it was pretty cool to participate. Went home for a wee rest, and then took off to another Saturday softball game. This was the first time playing without any trace of cloud cover and it was OMG hot. Still, I managed (with the help of some beer and rum) to have the best time playing so far. Someone cranked up the tunes from their car so we had Latin dance music blaring for most of the game. It was hella fun and sweat was epic. Plus, we ALMOST won! Almost ;)

So now I'm up getting ready for bed, and will probably succeed in watching about 10 minutes of The Tudors before passing out in a well-deserved coma sleep.

A last breath of hope

Crafty minds and wishful thinking have been hard at work to come up with one more stab at a plan to bring Reckless Clive and I together. There is a vet on the Samana Peninsula who does some work with helping out the homeless dogs in the area, and he was very happy to hear that I had decided to adopt one. I wrote to him tonight to ask his help in a map capped scheme that would involve getting Clive to him, preforming the needed surgeries and vaccinations, and then keeping her in the care of someone until I come back to visit the DR sometime in the early spring. Knowing full well that this is a lot to ask, I'm trying to not be too hopeful, but ultimately this may prove to be the best option overall. I certainly wasn't expecting to find a dog here to take back to Seattle with me, and I'm pretty much completely unprepared for such a thing. If this works out it'll give me the time I need to get ready for her arrival, rather than trying to throw things together at the last minute. It'll be less stressful for her and me both.

And if the vet won't agree to the mad capped scheme, well, I suppose I just have hope that she'll still be hanging around the same hotel next spring. Aye, aye, aye, do I ever give up?

Sometimes I feel like hope springs eternal, but the water it springs is 150 degrees and smells like sulfur.

That's Reality

So what do I do? Do I pretend my heart's not breaking? Will that make me a better person? To say to myself suck it up and stop being a thin-skinned drama queen, to stop falling in love with far-fetched fantasies. Why do we react the way we do and who is right and who is wrong when ultimately it all seems to come down to being honest with yourself and deciding whether or not to pretend. I try to be as honest and open-hearted as I can, but that leaves me vulnerable. I try to practice non-attachment, but my heart wants so badly to love. So many people have said how lucky I am to have been able to be here in the DR, and to have done so much traveling. Their eyes sparkle at the thought of being free from commitment and the burden of family life. I am grateful for all the traveling I've done, I've had adventures and opportunities and sights that have amazed and astounded me. I've met incredible people; some who have changed my life forever. But the thing that many people fail to realize is that my traveling doesn't necessarily come from some sort of wanderlust, but rather from a desperate urge to fill the hole in my life left by an absence of love. Don't get me wrong, my life is filled with people who love me, I'm greatly blessed by that. But that love that comes from true commitment, from a spouse, from a child, hell, from a dog - that love has been nigh absent my whole life.

I'm old enough now that I've known a number of family and friends that have paired off and bred, and so many of them try to tell me how lucky I am that I have an uncomplicated life. Shit, a few of them have even tried to make me guilty about it. Well you know what? I feel like a teen pregnancy in reverse. I didn't choose this life, it was chosen for me. And it feels like every step I take towards any sort of domesticated life blows up in my face. Apparently life doesn't want me to have much responsibility. I can't even manage to get adopting a dog right. I apparently make bad choices, but I make those choices because I'm following my heart. What kind of message does that send? It's pretty goddamn hard to keep believing in yourself when so many dreams turn to smoke and ash.

I have a great life, I know I do. I know that hurdles and hardship make it possible to embrace the goodness and blessing that I do have. And yet often I feel like the only things I truly desire in this life are precisely the things that are denied to me. And, yes, thankyouverymuch, Buddhists, I know exactly what you have to say in the matter. Still, it takes it's toll, and I can't pretend it doesn't hurt like hell.

Reckless Clive will have to remain a dream. My heart is breaking, but at least I'm letting it.

Reckless Clive

Hey blog readers! I have no idea how many of you are out there, and of those, how many reside in Seattle, but I need to put the call out for help with a crazy Allison project. I met a dog here that I want to take back to Seattle with me. Now, before anyone goes flipping their lids, I have thought about this a lot, my sister and brother-in-law have helped me think things over, and we are working with a vet here to make sure things are done properly. The vet says that she knows many people who have adopted strays from the DR and they make great pets because they are so happy that someone finally loves them. At the same time, I realize that this will be a monumental undertaking, and I'm hoping for a little help from my dog-loving Seattle amigos. If anyone has extra dog items, food bowls, nail clippers, a dog bed, that kind of thing, I'd be grateful for any donations. I'm especially looking for some coats and sweaters, as this dog is used to the balmy tropics and I'm taking her back to Seattle in soggy, grey November. She is medium-sized, her body shape and size being about halfway between a regular greyhound and an Italian greyhound.

The biggest issue I face with this is that my apartment doesn't take dogs, so I'll have to move out. My ideal situation would be to find a room somewhere in Queen Anne, preferably in a house with a yard. I still have to give notice at my place, so I'll probably won't be looking to move until December or even maybe January, that is if I don't get nabbed and evicted first!

The last thing I have to ask is if my landlord does discover I have a dog, I may need to have her stay with someone. If that happens, and anyone is willing to give her a temporary home, please let me know and I'll love you forever and bake you lots of cookies.

Anyone who can help out with any of these things, you can contact me at craftyfabricator@gmail.com

Regard - Reckless Clive!

The backyard smells like pee

I'm sitting at the outdoor table that is in my sister's backyard, and, in spite of the dog urine odor, it's a most mighty fine place. I'm not a fan of physical labor in the heat, but I do love doing nothing in the heat and humidity. I love the feeling of walking out of an air-conditioned house into the sultry arms of the outdoors. What also appeals to me is the lack of clothing I have to wear in this climate. There is something really snuggley about crawling into a big warm sweater when the weather is cold, but I much prefer crawling into a mini skirt and tank top and feeling the air on my skin. Then, as the thin (and sometimes thick) layer of sweat collects throughout the day, I love taking a cold shower around 4 of 5 in the evening. It's cleansing and energizing and feels sooooo good!

Yesterday a shipment arrived from Dave's parents. In it was 3 pounds of walnuts, 4 pounds of pecans, and two big bags of brown sugar. I do believe that chocolate chip cookies will be manifesting in the kitchen soon.

Al gets a little nostalgic

It's a curious phenomenon to go to a place that is so very foreign in comparison to where I grew up, and yet suddenly be seeing household items that I've only ever known in the context of "home."

I will explain.

When mom died last year a lot of the household items went to Joan and Dave. They are by far the most established and would be the ones most likely to use most of the stuff. Me in my semi-nomadic lifestyle and my wee studio would not have found much use for the fine china or the stemware or the crockery or the silver-plated salad tongs, or the red crystal liqueur decanter, etc. Now they've settled into the new house and unpacked all their stuff, and almost everyday I see little reminiscent tidbits of my younger life. But there is something surrealistic about seeing them here, in the DR, in a completely different house; a completely different atmosphere, and yet there they are. And every item comes with a momentary memory, a flash of days gone by, a little pang of sadness that all those days are gone, and a little pang of joy that I have so many great memories of growing up. It makes me happy to think that a lot of these things will now become part of Aidan's memories too.

A Day in the Life of Aidan and Al

Today Joan and Dave took a day-long tour of the city sponsored by the embassy. So I've been on Aidan duty for 6 hours now. He normally goes to school from 8 until noon, and I was supposed to walk him to school and pick him up, but today he decided that he didn't want to go to school, and rather than make a big showdown of it, Joan and Dave decided that if he wanted to stay home he could. It was actually a good idea on Aidan's part, since there was a deluge at around 7:50 - right at the time I would have been walking home from dropping him off. Don't get me wrong, Aidan and I still got soaked playing in it, but at least we were having fun together and it wasn't just me getting drenched on my lonely walk home.

So Aidan stayed home and we took a walk, then played in the rain, then built a castle, then made peach and mango cobbler, then I cleaned up dog barf (my least favorite activity of the day thus far), then watched Pingu, then played with Aidan's remote controlled car in the driveway. And now we are watching more Pingu.

The Watchmen

I realized that I haven't yet told you about The Watchmen. And no, I am not making this name up, they really ARE called The Watchmen.

So there is a lot of crime in Santo Domingo, and those with the right resources, i.e. money, you can pay to have men come to your house several times a day to make sure things are okay. The American government pays for my sister to have this security, so about 4 or 5 times a day a guy with keys to the house will let himself in through the servant's quarters, access the back patio, take a walk around the back of the house, and then turn around and go back out the way he came. The "backyard" is really just a small pathway leading around the house, and the back of the house is pretty much all windows, so they basically have a close up and personal view of the goings-on of the Cossitt/Pernal household. I can't really tell what I think of it. It's kind of neat in a way, and most of them are really friendly and will wave to you. And yet it is a little unnerving never knowing when you'll look up to see some guy outside.

Rock out with your lock out

So today I managed to get myself locked out of the house for the third time since I've been here. But only the first was my fault!!!

See, my sister's house is extremely well protected, there are high walls on all sides, bars on all the windows, and locks everywhere. So the first time I got locked out, Joan and I were putting Aidan to bed and he had left something on the back porch, so Joan asked me to go down and get it. The french doors that lead to the back porch were already locked up, so I went out the door from the maid's quarters (really, the house is not quite as lavish as this makes it sound). What I didn't realize is that there's no way to open the door to the maid's quarters from the outside, so without thinking, I pulled it closed behind me when I went outside, I grabbed whatever it was that Aidan wanted, turned around and stared dumbfounded at the door. I spent about 5 minutes trying to come up with a plan to get back in before I realized that the whole point of the house is to keep people who don't have key OUT of the house. So I sat and waited until the housekeeper noticed I was out there and let me in.

The second time I locked myself out was a few days ago. The french doors hadn't been opened in the morning, so I went out again through the maid's quarters, this time remembering to leave the door opened slightly so as to be able to get back inside. Well while I was chilling on the back porch, the housekeeper must have seen it open and shut it. So when I decided to come back in the house I was once again met with the odious un-openable door. This time, rather than being my savior, the housekeeper was my downfall. Finally I saw Dave moving around inside and knocked on the window and he let me in.

Well this morning takes the cake. I woke up and came downstairs to find my sister playing with Aidan out front. The front door is broken so we usually use the side garage door to go in and out. My sister asked if I would watch Aidan for a few minutes while she carried out some natural human function duties and I said sure. So I was hanging with Aidan for maybe a total of 1 full minute when he got up and started walking to the door, I called out to him and asked him to stay outside playing with me and not to go upstairs and see mama. He stopped in the doorway long enough to look at me and tell me that he'd be right back, before closing the door. I, of course, got up to pursue him, but when I got to the door found that he had locked me out. Make no mistake, this was not him accidentally pushing the locking mechanism, he knows about locks and what they're for and this was 100 percent malicious aunt lockout scheme. The cheeky little monkey. So I was out there for about 20 minutes until the housekeeper (her again!) came out to throw out the trash. I couldn't even go ring the doorbell as it's on the outside of the walls surrounding the house. I knocked and knocked but the door is so big and heavy that no one could hear poor little Al Pal.

It's okay though, I'm making up for a harrowing morning with overeating. Against my better judgment, I let Aidan convince me to make sugar cookies (the boy is obsessed with sifting) and have eaten a quarter of them so far today. Plus there was the full plate of nachos. Mmmmm, cookies and nachos...

Downpours and power outages

So an amazing thing here is how the city is so surprisingly ill equipped to deal with the frequent downpours here. Almost every time it rains, not only do the streets flood, but many of the signal lights short out, either blacking out completely or flashing patterns of the various green, red, and yellow lights. Yes, the already "impressive" traffic of everyday Santo Domingo becomes even more spectacular in the rain.

Another wonder is how frequent power outages are here. In a given day the power goes out anywhere from once a day to 5 or 6 times a day. Luckily my sister is Una Gringa Importante, and the embassy provides her house with a back-up generator that kicks in about 5 seconds after the power has gone out, then senses when power is restored and shuts off. The generator works amazingly well, and I've blessed it numerous times. The only bummer is that you never get fun "blackout" times where everyone sits around without the comforts of modern day and candles are lit and magic happens.

It's so much better on holiday

The lyrics to a Franz Ferdinand song that keeps running through my head...

It's always better on holiday
It's so much better on holiday
That's why we only when
We need the money

Si, life is better on holiday, and while I am missing my cohorts from the great green city of Seattle, I do rather enjoy having virtually no obligations other than blogging, the occasional diaper change, and general personal hygiene control.

I looked in the paper today and there was an ad for avocados at $.12 each. I took a moment to indulge in a guacamole/bathtub fantasy.

This weekend is a Dominican holiday weekend, and we had hoped to spend the time at a swanky seaside funplace, but have to stay at home because no one is available to watch the dogs. Reason number 1,205 that rats are the best pets. Just throw a wad of food in the cage, make sure there's enough water, and boom, yer good to go.

Due to the nixing of the seaside splendor, we will probably do a series of day trips instead. One idea in the works is to visit a coffee plantation. Whilst I am not a crazy coffee junkie like so many I know back in Seattle (and being a barista I know a lot), I'd still be interested to see how the magic of the legal drug I've been pushing for the past several years comes into being. I have actually discovered that the coffee that is the most prevalent here is actually quite tasty to me. When I do drink coffee, I like it to be just a bold no-nonsense cup, and that's precisely what is delivered. Plus a pound of it here is like $2. If only I could live off coffee, avocados, bananas and rum I could retire here with one more year of work.

Down in a Blaze of Glory

I'm always so grateful when something happens in my life that I never, ever expected. Today I played a softball game, representing the US Embassy, in Santo Domingo. Yes. Another amazing story to add to the list of lifetime achievements. Nevermind that we lost something like 20 - 3, let's just concentrate on the fact that I can add one more "wow" boast to my credentials. Plus, on the happy side of things, it was really good just to get out and move around a bit, and my endeavors were rewarded with the biggest bottle of beer I have ever seen, much less drank. I had to use both hands. Life is good.

Life in the slow lane

Here I am again, saddling up to the blog post. Today my belly is extra happy because I finally found some walnuts to put in my oatmeal. I've been searching every store with no luck, and at long last, yesterday I found some a the megamart shopping gargantuan complex (not actual name). The only problem was they were still in their shells, and the house has no nut cracker. No worries, I just took them home and spent about a hour happily SMASHing them with a meat mallet and picking out the good bits. Brown sugar is another foodstuff item they don't have easily accessible here either. I set about to make chocolate chip cookies, but hit a snag with the brown sugar. That was easily fixed with a good hit of molasses. The other problem with the cookies though came about through purely human error. I neglected to have Dave pick up baking soda at the store. Without the baking soda the cookies would have just smooshed out all flat. So the solution to that? I threw in some instant oatmeal and put the whole concoction into a cake pan so as to contain the batter. Honestly, I was not expecting it all to work, but huzzah! It actually worked out quite deliciously. I suppose the only other difficultly I have with the food here is that I live in Seattle, which is the Kingdom of Wholegrain, and I've definitely fallen off the wagon of my healthy eating lifestyle. Before coming here I don't think I'd had a single sugary soda for upwards of about a year. Then Dave handed me a rum and coke, and hot damn it was tasty! The coke down here is made with cane sugar rather than high fructose corn syrup, and the difference is phenomenal. And when mixed with rum, Shoot that's mighty fine. Then there's the corn chips and the butter and cookies and Dave's cooking, which can only be labeled as a Decadent Meatstravaganza. Damn you saturated fats and cheap carbohydrates! Why are you so good!

Let's see, what can I write about that doesn't revolve around food? Um, well there's power outages all the time. Seriously, like usually at least once a day, sometimes as many as 5 or 6. Luckily my sister is an important gringa and the government provides the house with a back up generator. So the power goes off, but then 5 seconds later the generator jumps to life and helps keep the party going.

The traffic here is insane. And having been in traffic all around the world I can tell you that Asia has crazy drivers, but the traffic itself more or less flows. Here, it's every man for himself. The most dominant car wins. Never in my life have I seen such a stunning example of the term cluster fuck. And it doesn't help that every time it rains many of the traffic lights short out. Plus, most people don't seem to bother with their turn signals, they just gesture out of the car window to indicate where they want to go. It's something to behold. I have been thus far, and so shall I ever be, a mere passenger in this monstrous spectacle. I strap myself securely into my seat, put my life in Dave's capable hands, and try to enjoy the ride.

Bueno!

Hello again one and all! I've finally been snatched back into the technological age and I once again have internet access.

Things have been probably a little more low key than most of you expected. By and large I've just been hanging with my family, playing my gee-tar and drinking rum. Oh, and eating. Dave is way too good of a chef. It's just not fair. How can I control my portion sizes when the stuff is just so darn good?

We all took a vacation - well, I took a vacation from my vacation - last weekend. We went up north to a place called Cabarete. It was lovely and I had heaps of fun playing in the ocean. I also got heaps of bruises from getting dashed on the rocks several times. The water was pretty choppy and unpredictable. (In Al's world, that translates as fun, in spite of being slightly owie.) And there was much rum.

Aidan is a hoot. He's mostly really well behaved, though like every 2 year old, he has his moments. He's currently going through his OCD period, and certain things he needs to have exactly just so or he loses it. He's also going through the endless queries of "why" period. Sometimes we play together or he curls up with his mama and I my maternal urges kick in, and then he breaks down sobbing because I cut his toast in two pieces or on the 29hundreth "why" for the day, and I'm grateful that my rats don't talk and can be put in a cage.

Well there's a quick update, maybe I'll share some more stories with you when I get the chance.

All good - no internet!

Hey friends! All is good, there is just no internet at my sister's house! I'm not ignoring you, I swear! Should have internet within the next week, will fill you all in then!

Smooches!

Made it!

Hello folks! I've officially arrived in the Dominican Republic! Got in yesterday and spent an evening chillaxing with the fambily. Joan has scored a kick-ass apartment that overlooks the big swath of water that starts with a C and pirates sailed on it in a movie with Johnny Depp. I'm using a MAC and I don't know how to work the spell check so I don't know how to spell it. I'm also cranky because I'm a little hungry. But we're going to a party, a fiesta, if you will, at the Ambassador's house in a little while so I'm saving my belly for that. But in the meantime I'm cranky. Using... er... trying to use a mac is making me crankier.

The lowdown - the flights were terribly uneventful, and as I'm used to traveling to Asia, the 12 hour travel time seemed like a walk in the park in comparison. The driver who was supposed to pick me up at the airport didn't actually write my name down on the board he had, he just help up the board with the company name on it, so I waited around for 15 minutes or so before calling my sister and figuring it all out. Once that was all sorted, I was driven to my sister's apartment and just hung out here for the evening. Eventually she and her family (including me) will move into a house in a more residential area, but for now we're in the apartment, which is vast and had 4 bathrooms. There was much chatting and laughing and then Joan and Dave and I ate nachos.

Oh and the rum and coke's here are really good.

Too good.

Drunk texts = FUN!

So I have to share with you this drunk text conversation between Lerin and I on the night of my Super Sendoff party. Lerin and I had hung out before the party, and she was unsure if she'd make it to the actually party. By 11:45 she hadn't shown up yet, and my friends Patty mentioned this fact, which prompted the conversation as documented below -

Me - "Patty andi r so sadu didnt show up. asad . SAD? YES? Sad.

Lerin replied back that she was in a bit of a funk and wasn't going to make it, and accused me of being drunk, to which I replied

Me - "Girl! yes i is DRUNK! WITH PATTY! we are EPIC. I heart you . your funk sucks. i might barf. forget that. i heart you. This = best text ever!"

Beware the dangers of tequila, kids!

Al's Good Riddance Party!

Last night was my Super Sendoff Shingdig! Many a friend came out to join me in merriment. The evening began with drinks at Toulouse Petite with Chelsea, Lerin and Danielle. I had a very tasty cocktail and shared spicy shrimp with Chelsea. There were pictures taken, but I can't seem to find my battery charger for my camera. Really hoping I find it before I leave... anyway, the photos below were taken with Uriah's awesome phone. So after Toulouse, Chelsea and I went to The Paragon for a shot of tequila and a shot of Crown Royale (guess which one of us drank what!) and then headed over to The Hilltop Ale House. We kicked it at the Ale House for about 3 hours. I ate half of a steak sandwich, Uriah also had a steak sandwich but was disappointed that it had cilantro all over it. JHo brought his own cashews. There was much beer. Hannah had Spice Girl's lyrics written on her hand. Shea left me the cutest, saddest voice message ever. I arm wrestled
Hannah and she won the first two times but then I was victorious on the third. George gave me a cool little book, I think I'll write song lyrics in it. Patty gave me a card that plays music and encourages me to dance. Jumana and Jason came even though they are getting married in just over a week and undoubtedly have loads of things to do. Sandy and the Jensen girls came and they ALL wore skirts! I didn't get to chat with Nick, Jordan, Lacey or Charlie nearly as long as I would have liked. Z and Aliki are champs and I wished they lived next door and not in Northgate so I could see them more often. Benny took the number 4 bus. Mass was there too. I'm so lucky and grateful to have such amazing friends!

Wow. I'm almost all packed up. And by almost I mean not nearly as close as I'd like to be. Due to the massive quantity of alcohol imbibed last night, today was not as productive as I would have liked it to have been. It was a day-long battle of comfy bed vs. anything other than the comfy bed. The bed won a lot.

So I leave tomorrow. Gotta get up, go to work until 6ish, get the rats over to Benny's, make sure the apartment is in good order for Josh, the subletter, and get me and my over-packed luggage to the aeroport for the excitement of a red-eye to Dallas. From Dallas to Miami. From Miami to Santo Domingo. There will be a driver waiting for me with a sign that says my name. Cool! I'm gonna feel like a movie star!


Why hello there...
Me and Patty and a breadstick
Mass and I
My darling Monte!
I'm so cute sometimes I could barf
When you have very little hair, it's fun to play with other people's hair
Fun with hair!
Smashing evening! And by that I mean I was totally smashed when this picture was taken
Hotcha!

One week to go!

I'm one week, one hour and 40 minutes away from liftoff. Things are progressing well. Baked some cookies tonight with the bag of chocolate chips I was trying to use up in the pantry. My friend is hosting a neat monthly food club thingy and basically this month the theme is Mexican-ish, and really you're supposed to bring a variation of the basic recipe that is sent out, but if you feel inspired you can make something to accompany it. So in an effort to not add more things to the food supply in my house and, in fact, use up the stuff I currently have, I lamely altered the chocolate chip cookie recipe to produce "Super Mexi-choco Space Wizard Shazam Cookies!" How can my friend not be swayed by that great name! Plus the deliciousness of said cookies is scrumptiously astronautical! Heck yeah!



Is it the surface of some distant planet - NO! It is Space Cookies that are out of this WORLD!

Sad news comes to the Rat City

While my morning tea is steeping I thought I'd take a moment to deliver the sad news on the home front. One of my fuzzy babies, B.U. Phinnaeus died last Saturday night. It was particularly tragic as apparently she choked on something. And, yes, I did actually try the rat Heimlich maneuver - there is such a thing! - and when she stopped breathing I attempted CPR but to no avail. As I always try to look to the good in bad situations, I figure that she was a little sickly and I was worried that she's die when I was in the DR. So at least this way I could be present for passing and take a lovely walk through Discovery Park with Benny where we saw many happily abandoned pet rabbits and several zippy hummingbirds before finding a particularly horrid spot for digging (sorry Benny!) for Phin's final resting spot.

She is survived by her sister, H.T. Vanderrat and her special friend Umlaut.

She will be missed terribly.

Gettin' Close

Subletter person guy - CHECK!

Sold my scooter - CHECK!

Travel insurance - CHECK!

Fluency in Spanish - Not so much

Packing up the apartment - Not even started

So I'm mostly on the ball with all this. A little more than two weeks out and it still isn't particularly real to me. My sister and her family left the US today. How strange it's got to be knowing that your whole life will change so completely. For me it's not so big; theoretically I'm coming back to Seattle and all my comfortable things and people. It's hard even for me to imagine starting a new life in a city I've never even visited before. Still though, I guess with the right job offer and the right amount of money I'd go just about anywhere... maybe.

Sublettin it all hang out

A potential sublet person is visiting today. Is "subletter" the proper term? Because the spell check doesn't recognize it. Screw you spell check - I break ALL the rules!

Ah, anyway, I'm blogging while I probably should be tidying up. Then I'll be eating cereal while I should be tidying up. And I'll probably end up watching the last half of that Pushing Daisy's episode instead of tidying up at all. And I'm sure it won't matter a damn.

This subletter would work out perfectly. He intends to move to Seattle (from Portland) the day after I leave. So monetarily that would work out rad for me. Plus, he's the first person to see the place and if it works out then I don't have to keep slogging through e-mails and tromping strangers through my messy apartment.

Right-o. Cereal time.

Hello again!!!

Hello all you sweet little things, it's so good to have your eyes back along with your eager curiosity to hear what thrilling adventures await me on this spin of the Wheel of Life!

So as you've all probably heard, I'll be traveling to the Dominican Republic on August 19th (exactly one month from today!) and so I'll be writing about the preparation for travel in the upcoming month, and then I'll be filling y'all in on my daily adventures once I'm there. Fab! I'll be living with my sister and her family - her husband, Dave, their son, Aidan, and the two dogs, Neuf and Jack.

The first question that usually comes up is "what will you be doing there?" The answer is - a whole lotta nufin. My sister is a part of the foreign service and will be working at the US consulate (or embassy, I'm not sure what the difference is) so I won't really be able to get a "job" like I did in Ireland. There might be some volunteer work, and I'll pitch in as much as I can helping out around the house and watching my nephew, but overall I'll have a lot of free time. I just started playing guitar, and much to my utter surprise really liking it, and so I'm looking forward to devoting a lot of time to practicing and ideally writing some stuff too. Other than that, I'll read, pick up some dirty Spanish phrases, drink lots of beer, meet some folks and ideally not get into too much trouble - though if I do it'll be all like, "pffft, whatever, do you know who my sister is?"

The second question that usually gets asked is "who is watching the rats?" The answer to that is my most excellent good buddy Benny. Benny is tops and I owe a lot of my relative sanity to him, plus he's super great with animals and loves the rats! He watched them while I was in Asia last April and did a brilliant job. Of course, they did come back to me complaining that the cheese I give them was for too quotidian, so, whatever, Benny's cheese is better, like I care.

So, a month out, and it's just beginning to set in that my life is going to change radically in another month. For now it's day to day, trying to deal with some difficulties life has recently presented me, and from time to time remembering that I'm off to tropical good stuffs. It couldn't have come at a better time. Sometimes everything unfolds in a most curious and beautiful way. Also, often it is painful and messy, but I believe that the beauty is there if you sit with it long enough and allow it all to unfold. Undestructable, my friends.