Kady at the Sydney Opera House

Yesterday we had a day of sight-seeing, which ended up to be a day of seeing the Sydney Opera House because we dawdled and took our time.  But it was very fun.  Enjoy a self-indulgent, maybe narcissistic photo special of me at the Opera House.  I kind of thought that maybe I should get a good shot so it could go on my future business card.  Ended up with a lot of nostril shots, but deleted most of those.

Ok, I lied, I didn't delete all the nostril shots.  Here are a couple for you:

Not sure if you can see them, but in the fourth photo down I'm wearing my new pearl earrings that my new Australian friend bought for me!  Thanks, Liz!!

Conversation at the Train Station

Teri: "We're going to Camel Toe??!!"

Kady: "No. Campbelltown."

I found this to be slightly hysterical

You know how sometimes you want to take a picture of a person because they're unique but you can't ask them because you're embarrassed and so instead you end up taking a picture into the air and hoping that the unique person is in the photo?  "Heh heh, just me, taking a picture of that door. *nervous laughter* "

That happened to me today with this dude who looks like maybe he was a monk?  I was so intrigued by him.  I am ignorant, so I'm probably wrong about the poor guy, but here I couldn't stop staring or taking pictures in the air around him.  He noticed me too and I'm sure my motives were obvious and exposed.  Anyways~ later on, we were pretty close to each other in the cable car going up a mountain, and since he's about my height I got a look right into his ear.

He shaves his head really close, but forgot about his TWO INCH LONG EAR-HAIR.  Ha!  Jokes on you dude.  So I took another picture into the air, and if you click on it, it will enlarge and you can maybe see the hair.

You know what

Se kak in her han (Afrikkans)
Huite handen (Swedish)
Ella kaka in su mano (Spanish)

A Visit to a very Special School

Teri and I were able to visit a Special Needs School while in Samoa and it was quite a treat.  They have kids separated by their year, and years one and two are together, and also years three and four and so on.  Kids who are deaf, have Autism, Down's Syndrome, and any number of physical or development disability go to school here.  I learned enough Ausland sign language to tell the kids that I flew here from the United States and that I was leaving Wednesday.

If you want to spell out your name in sign language for the rest of your life that's fine, but what you really want is for a deaf person to give you a "sign name".  Only a deaf person can give it to you, and then instead of everybody spelling it all out, you get this little sign and it's just for you.  Tonga gave me my sign name.  It's the letter K, which is basically like a peace sign with your thumb in the middle.  Then you take the 'K' and move it across your forehead, in the sweep of my bangs.  Cute, huh?  I felt so honored.  I like the sign too and that makes me feel spesh!

So here are some pics of the kids and their teachers.  They were excited to meet us and I wish I had more time.  I would have loved to spend the day there.

The little boy laying on the floor is called Frances, and he has Cerebral Palsy.  His aide showed me his spelling test and he's quite smart.  He wasn't feeling well that day so he got to lay down.  Look how he smiled when I asked if I could take his picture!

When I'm under the gun, everybody suffers

I am trying to make this blog interesting folks, but with internet access at an all-time low, I have really been trying to type fast and may be missing some major punch lines.  Later I think of something hysterical I could have said...

Like, I could have written "I am writing to you from the future...don't bother with that lipstick."

Oh well.  Today I bought a un-underwire bra, or an underwireless bra.  It's something I have been dreaming about since wringing out my clothes that first day in Samoa.  So today we went shopping in Sydney and I was having trouble finding any bra with no underwire.  I thought for a minute that "they don't have them here".  And then finally I found one.  Just one option.  At the check out line, shining like a beacon of light.  Two immediate drawbacks.  Pink in color, and displayed in a Hustler box, with a total hoochie on the front with huge huge huge you-know-whats.  But I really thought that the actual product was something I totally needed.  And so I opened the box, verified it's contents were small enough for me and bought it.  Afterwards I threw away the nasty garter that came with the bra.  For your information, I'm wearing it right now and it's perfect for this climate.  Unfortunately it says Hustler on it.  I'm hoping that with just one or two days of sweat that will rub off.  And soon it will be that familiar light brown color for bras and the pink will be gone too.

Fah-Lay

People sort of live right out in the open in Samoa.  Their homes are open air. They call them Fale's.  Pronounced Fah-Lay.  Anyway, so you take your shoes off at the door.  And it's extremely rude to speak to somebody if you are standing and they are sitting and so you need to go inside the house and then sit, cross legged on the floor.  Then you can begin speaking.  And DON'T point your bare feet at anybody.  If you're a Westerner, they relax this rule for you a little bit and you can stretch out your legs, but you need to cover your feet with a mat or a scarf or something.

Sometimes there is a big house, or a main house, with the Fale out in the front yard.  Then they have another house for the kitchen and another for the bathroom.

These are some pics of a beautiful Fale we visited. Here there were chairs to sit in, and so the rules about sitting on the floor don't exist.  But still don't talk 'down' to somebody sitting in a chair.  Sit first.

Helen's dad chopped us a sugar cane and we ate it!

Then, coconut juice!

Internet Access Spotty, and Armpits Crotty (that means Sweaty, I just made it up)

Guys!  No internet access for 5 days makes me very anxious.  What if somebody dies or something!

So I'll just make a small post.  Have you ever heard of the International Date Line?  I guess I had, but didn't realize this simple fact:  In Samoa, it's like 3pm, right?  In New Zealand, it's also 3pm, but it's TOMORROW!  And they are only separated by a 5 hour flight.

So, when we left Samoa at 7am, we arrived at 7pm the NEXT DAY.  We lost a whole day in transit.  Plus we had to stop in Tonga, a small island, and New Zealand and had some major layovers.

SO, right now I'm in Sydney.  I have some more to say about Samoa though.  This heat is extremely hard for me, I think I'm a Minnesota Flower.  ha!

In September, Samoa switched sides of the road.  They used to be on the right hand side, just like us in the US, but then they switched to the left.  The reason I think is because cars are cheaper and easier to come by if their steering wheel is on the right side of the car.  Well, imagine how hard it would be for a whole country to one day just switch sides of the road.  The government was just going to put up a few signs.  The people protested, and so the government actually did a pretty good job marking the road with arrows and even for pedestrians wrote LOOK RIGHT with an arrow on the cross walks.  Because, if you're crossing the road you can be killed if you use your habits and look the wrong way first.

This sign in a taxi made me laugh, but I thought it's probably pretty helpful.  We met a lot of people who admitted they hadn't driven since the change.

Chapped in Samoa

Traditionally, people here wear the lavalava.  (Skirt).  I mentioned before it's for men and women.  It's respectful to wear your lavalava when you go into town or walk around anywhere, so I have just been wearing long skirts every day.  Super comfortable and wonderful, right?  Not with these thighs.  They've been rubbing together something fierce.  It hurts.  And so the only solution is to wear the running shorts that I brought.  They are compression shorts, and are made of breathable fabric -- polyester and lycra probably.  They totally solve the problem of the rubbing thighs, but cause a whole other problem of being very HOT.  It's so so so so so so so hot here.  I can't really describe it, except to say that it's like crawling into the fat folds of the man in the sauna inside of Satan's bathroom.  So naturally by the time you're towel-dried out of the shower, you need to towel-dry your sweat again within five minutes.  It's too hot to put on sunscreen, but you have to, and then you sweat it off right away.

Anyway I only brought one pair of compression shorts and I wore them once, hung them in the window, wore them a second time and today they were in the wash.  So thighs rubbed together again.  YARG.  Also, it's necessary to wear a tank top under your shirt in order to catch the sweat, but it just makes you hotter.  Also, there is no air-conditioning in the hotel.  Also, there are mosquitos and they are eating me alive.

And yet, I LOVE this place.  It's so beautiful.  A total paradise.

We just found out today that it's really not OK to wear a bikini to go swimming.  You really should wear shorts and a T-shirt.  People here are incredibly modest and conservative.  I'm glad that I brought clothes that work within those guidelines, but it can be pretty uncomfortable to be so covered up when it's 178 degrees.  Celsius.

Never point your toes toward somebody in Samoa, this is VERY rude.  But we have to take our shoes off at the door.  It's hard to remember.  But kinda cool to walk around our hotel in bare feet. 

I MISS FACEBOOK.  I had a dream last night that I could get on facebook and I had a lot of notifications and it made me really happy.  But, it was just a dream.

The gecko.

We have no access to facebook from the computer in the lobby here at Princess Tui, due to a huge bill for bandwidth use.  Something about uploading photos.  So anyway, this is the only photo I'm going to get to upload from this computer this week.  It's a good'n though.  Check out this sucker.  Laying on my PILLOW!  Ick.  I still have four of those things looming overhead as I type this.

Today was very slow and lazy.  I'm really sick, and so I just wanted to sort of lay around all day.  I started The Thorn Birds, which is set in New Zealand at the start of the 1900's and is really good so far.  I hung out at the hotel lobby until about 2pm today.  Teri and I then walked to town and had lunch and beers at the same place from yesterday.  'Twas nice.  We sat there for two hours, and then we walked to the grocery store but it was closed and so then we got an ice cream cone at McDonald's.  A decidedly less exciting day today and yet that is exactly what I wanted from Samoa.  I'm having facebook withdrawal.  I'm hoping that Nancy or Beata was able to post our recorded song from Sunday's session?  Anyway, I'll get some photos up as soon as possible.

Hotel manager is now yelling at staffer so I gotta get out of here.  Uncomfortable.

Samoa, Bro-a

We arrived very safely to Samoa this morning at about 5:30am.  Our flight was 10 hours long and I was able to sleep for about 6 hours, maybe more.  It was GREAT.  Nice plane, brand new seats, lots of movie choices...I watched "All About Steve" with Sandra Bullock and also I saw three episodes of a new show from HBO called Bored to Death.  I like Jason Schwartzman, and he's cute as a writer/total loser-turned-private-detective. 

So, anyway, here are some highlights from Samoa:

It's one thousand degrees, so there's no way to look pretty.

Men wear skirts. 

Men cops wear skirts.

200 years ago, cannibalism was happening, and every family was responsible to take turns turning a member of the family over to the High Chief to get EATEN.  Well, the son of the head of state conspired with a family whose turn it was.  He switched places with the sacrificee and requested that he be wrapped in the palm leaf face-up, instead of the usual face-down, and this was to teach his dad a lesson.  It did, and then there was no more cannibalism on the island.  Our shuttle bus driver, here-on out to be called by his name, "Tao", built his house on that very site, and no matter how many hurricanes come, he rebuilds the house because that history is important to him.  Also he has 15 kids, and is a chief of a small village himself.  The village is called Fasito tai.  He said his job was to 'keep everybody in line'.  We drove 38 kilometers to our hotel and all the while he told us fascinating stories of the islands' history.  I noticed that everybody hangs their laundry out to dry.  All homes are open-air and have doors and windows open with no screens.  I see dogs running around as Tao tells us how the school term has just begun and that children wear uniforms from primary school all the way through university, and if they have no uniform, then they cannot go to school.  He talked about how passionate he is about keeping the rubbish picked up.  "A clean environment is a healthy environment", he said as I noticed yet another bus drive by packed with about 150 people.  These buses travel the islands and seat about 35 people, but they fill up quite quickly and so everybody just sits on everybody else's laps.  Nobody stands, as it is disrespectful to stand and talk in the presence of your elders. 

It's very humid here.  There are palm trees, hibiscus, all kinds of plants that we can only see in the summertime back in Minnesota are just growing willy nilly everywhere.  A season of Survivor was filmed here, I'm not sure which one, or if it has even aired yet...my mom will know.

Samoa became independent from the British 45 years ago, and was the first Pacific Island to do so.  They are very proud of this, and enjoy making their own laws.  We read that in 362 villages, there are 18,000 chiefs!

Everyone is in everyone else's business, according to our shuttle bus driver, and so everybody honks and waves at everybody else.  He said all cars need a good horn.

After Tao dropped us off at the hotel, we checked into our room, which wasn't quite what we were expecting.  I could have sworn that we sprung for the private bathroom.  There wasn't one in the room...but my memory is pretty terrible lately and the down-the-hall-bathroom wasn't THAT far away, so I decided to crash.  And, you know how you always turn down the covers to check and make sure the sheets are clean?  I did that, and a lizard darted across the bed.  Gecko more like, but it freaked me right out.  As I type this, there are 7 geckos crawling on the ceiling.  This morning, when that gecko darted across my bed, I must admit that I second-guessed this entire "year off" nonsense.  What the heck am I thinking?  I am not a gecko person.  I am a clean, clean, no bugs, screams at spiders kind of person. 

This year is all about conquering fears, though, and here's the first one:  sleeping with geckos.  Of course I have a cold and have to breathe through my mouth, which means it'll be hangin' WIDE OPEN for all the lil' things to crawl inside and take a nap.

AAAAAAAA!!!!

A day of traveling

Web cammin' it.

Today started at about 7:30.  I went to bed about 2am or so...so exausted from packing and cleaning that I totally crashed.  But woke up pretty well and got to work packing right away.  Somebody called last night and offered to buy my couch and I told them I was leaving and they probably wouldn't be able to pick it up by noon the next day.  She said she would, and so just like that, the leather sectional is sold.  I got the cash about an hour before I was picked up by Teri and her brother.

I have been creating this massive pile of stuff earmarked for my year off, and it was all in a pile.  The pile was dangerously bigger than my backpack and that concerned me, but I was determined to 'make it work', Tim Gunn style.  So this morning as I began shoving stuff in my backpack I started to panic.  It didn't fit.  I eliminated some unnecessaries, and crammed and crammed and finally got the zipper shut.  But this isn't going to work for my trip because you need excess space in your bag, and so I'll be doing some more eliminations along the way.  I'll probably chant "You're Fired!" or "that means you are out.  Auf Widersein" in my head as I decide that a skirt is simply weighing me down.  When I got to the airport, the scale wasn't working, but I was SO curious about the weight of my bag.  I wanted to weigh it and then I realized that maybe I'd be over 50 pounds and then have to pay for excess weight. 

45 pounds, baby.  And as soon as I use up that SPF in Samoa, I'll be 44.5 pounds.  It'll happen.  So now there is a 10 hour flight and I'll wake up on the beach.  We have a week there.  The week of relaxing and planning our four weeks in Australia.

I'm wondering...Teri is always late, and I'm always late, and we're both a little flighty and goofy...who's gonna get us on task?  Nobody. 

Let me tell you how WEIRD it was to shut the door on my house for the last time.  I can't even explain it.  I felt so anxious.  I ran through all the stuff in my head I was surely missing and realized that I did in fact forget my Melatonin and Vitamin C.  I can forget sleeping peacefully on this long 10 hour flight.  DANG!  I got greedy and slept all the way to Chicago and then again all the way to Los Angeles. 

And why do I feel so BAD when the lady just mopped the bathroom and I walk in there? 

Oprah

One of the things I wanted to do before leaving Minneapolis is: Watch Oprah.  Yes, folks.  I always worked full time, and never was home before 6pm, and so Oprah seemed to me to be the ultimate unemployed luxury.  And so now I've officially been off work for one month.  Do you think I remembered to watch Oprah even one of those days?  NO. 

So, today, I was DETERMINED to watch Oprah.  I woke up at 8:30am, had lunch with my traveling partner and our friend from Australia to talk about the 'what to do' stuff, and then I had my traveling partner bring me to the post office and to the bank (since I have no car).  Still home by 3pm.  Good!  I could spend an hour cleaning the basement and then turn on Oprah and fold laundry in front of it.  3:16pm...still not Oprah time, keep cleaning.  Sweep basement.  Wipe down washer and dryer and thingee in between that holds detergent and bleach and is FILTHY.  3:47pm.  Still not Oprah time.  Then I just kept right on'a cleaning, forgot about Oprah and ran upstairs to check my email.  The computer said 4:58.  I screamed and ran for the TV.  Just in time to hear O say, "Goodbye, everyone.  Goodbye."  And applause.

And now I'm leaving tomorrow and there will never be another chance.  Ever.

CRAP!!


And now for the good news.  Beata and Nancy bought me a necklace that has a tiny map of Minneapolis on it.  I don't think I'll take it off until I'm safely back home.

2 days...

My new laptop (officially it's a "Notebook" because it's mini) has a camera!!  With no flash!!

I'm in International Falls right now. I just dropped off my car for storage at my parents' house and am saying my goodbyes to my mom and dad and my sister and her kids. They must have recently had a wet snowfall because every pine tree is coated with puffy fat wet heavy snow. Millions and millions of snow covered Jack Pines lining each side of Highway 53. It was a beautiful drive, and of course I'm feeling nostalgic since I LEAVE FOR MY TRIP IN TWO DAYS!!! Which is why I'm storing my car here, and the remnants of summer clothes that didn't sell at the garage sale, which occupy only two small meant-for-one-purchase-from-Banana-Republic-disposable garment bags plus one plastic Rubbermaid bin. Not too shabby. Anyway, that plus a filing cabinet, two bikes, and a smaller bin of shoes. These are the things I will need next summer when I come here to stay. Any other crap at home right now is going to be stored in Rubbermaid bins and kept at the house (in a back corner of the basement) i.e. one binful of winter items of clothing, a few boxes full of photo albums, framed photos, three winter coats the following items that I did NOT put up for sale:

• One side table from Target. It's pretty cute.
• My computer and stuff that goes with it (speakers, printer, etc.) -I only didn't post these things because I needed them and then it got too late to post them. Maybe I'll sell all that when I get back.
• My Global chef's knife from Williams Sonoma
• Electric kettle
• Pots and Pans
• Snowboard stuff
• Guitars
• A few souvenir items purchased from previous travels
• Artwork*

So, I didn't totally transform my 3+ bedroom home all the way down to one backpack, but I came very close. I think that my belongings could possibly fit into my car. That feels pretty good. And if I did literally have to fit it all into a car, I could get rid of so much more. WARNING: Strange, and maybe insensitive analogy ahead:  I feel cleansed, purged. Like the last seven years were the binge. Me buying and stockpiling stuff. Possessions. And now I just puked them all out into the toilet and I feel SKINNY! I'm sad, because I just puked, and I always cry when I puke**, but the feeling of release outweighs the sad feeling of the puking!

Anyway.

I am a touch excited and maybe even a little smug at the idea of not seeing winter at all for the next year. I'm sure when this is all over my ol' boss Jennifer (she's not old, the job is) will still make fun of my lack of tan. Because I did pack my 70 SPF and embarrassing old lady floppy hat and I'm not afraid to use them.

*All of my artwork is being babysat by trusted friends and will be returned to me when I get back.

**never self-induced

Jessica Simpson Farts During Business Meeting

From US Weekly. "Breaking" News:



Exclusive: Oops! Jessica Simpson Farts During Business Meeting
Thursday – January 28, 2010 – 10:05am

Let's end this meeting on a high note!

A source tells Us Weekly that Jessica Simpson had a, ahem, windy moment during a business meeting for her denim line in late January. "While one of the executives was speaking in a room full of five people, Jessica let out a very loud fart," says the insider.

Oh, Jess!

"Her mother [Tina Simpson] was there, and it prompted her to turn around and yell, 'Jessica!' The tension was extreme. No one knew what to say."

It wasn't Simpson's first brush with public flatulence: She famously cut loose on an episode of Newlyweds, telling then-husband Nick Lachey, "You love my stinky ass," and professed her fondness for between-the-sheets poots (a.k.a. Dutch ovens) to a radio station in 2008.

Craigslist scammer, vol 2

These people start by sending you an email from "Rita Laurence" and then Omo Ayo replies, and all he/she wants is simply your Name, address and phone number. They don't mention what the item is either. I'd like to know how they can steal from you if they just have your name address and phone number though??




Hello I really appreciate your response to my email.I want you to consider it sold, pls do withdraw the advert from craigslist to avoid disturbance. I want you to know that i will be paying via bank certified check. I will like you to provide me with the following information to facilitate the mailing of the check to you

1.....Full name to write on the check
2.....Full Physical address to post the check
3.....City, State and Zip Code
4.....Home & Cell Phone to contact you

*** Note that the payment will be shipped to your address via UPS NEXT DAY SERVICE and I will like you to know that you will not be responsible for shipping i will have my mover come over as soon as you have cashed the check**
Thanks

On 1/28/10, kady hexum wrote:>> Yes it is still available. Would you like to take a look at it?>>>>

Date: Thu, 28 Jan 2010 05:46:04 +0000>> From: ritalawrence.01@gmail.com>> To: sale-s3t8k-1573888082@craigslist.org>>>>

Good Day I saw your add in craigslist today get back to me if you still have available.

Craigslist

Does this guy think I'm stupid?


Thanks for getting back to me,am pleased and willing to pay the askingprice for this Item. And I would have love to come for the viewing butdue to my work frame that might not be possible, So i will be makingthe payment to you via a Check for the cost of this item. So I'll likeyou to provide me with the following information so as to notify thepayment for the item.full name to be on the Check,home or work addressand phone # likewise, the payment will be made in excess in which youwill be sending the remaining cash balance on the payment to my moverswho will later come for the pick up of the item as soon as the paymentis confirmed.

If anybody wants to let him know how ridiculous this response is, his fake name is Eric Gregory and his fake email account is ericgregory08@gmail.com.

Friend's "mom" story, Vol. 2

We went on a sailboat ride around the bay in front of our hotel. The owner of the boat, an American named Paul who has lived in Cancun for 25 years, told us that just a couple of doors down from our hotel on the beach, is one of Steven Segal's houses. A couple of doors down from that is one of Madonna's houses. In front of Steven Segal's house was the largest yacht I have ever seen. It was docked there, but no one was really around, except a guard who was sitting on the dock. There didn't appear to be any activity in or around the house.

When we got back to the pool, we were telling my mom about the boat ride. Then I told her that we saw one of Steven Segal's houses and one of Madonna's houses. I also told her that the huge yacht docked out there belongs to Steven Segal… to which she replied, "Yep. I saw him out there this morning, walking on his yacht."

Another Daily Journal "Looking Back" story

Gotta love International Falls.
p.s. this was in an August 2004 edition.

Conversation between a friend and her mom.

m = mom
a = my friend



M: "That J'Lo's husband, Ricky Martin, he just looks terrible. He is so pale. He looks like he has AIDS."

A: "Mom, she's not married to Ricky Martin."

M: Vacant look…. "That Ricky Martin. I just can't believe how terrible he looks. What happened to him?"

A: "Mom, she's not married to Ricky Martin. I can't think of his name right now, but it's not Ricky Martin. I think he is gay."

By coincidence, a music video of Gloria Estefan and Mark Anthony begins to play on the restaurant t.v.

M: "See, there they are…"

A: "No, Mom, that is Gloria Estefan, and, now I remember- his name is Mark Anthony, J'Lo's husband. He's not a very good looking guy, you're right."

M: "Well, I know that's not J'Lo! But, it's her husband Ricky Martin."

End of conversation.

Old Hexum stories

We used to drive around in a club cab pick up truck. There were eight of us, mom, dad and six kids. Mom and dad sat in the bucket seats, two kids sat on the tiny fold out seats in the back, one kid sat on a wood seat dad built for between the bucket seats in the front, and the rest of us just sort of crammed in wherever else we could.

Our favorite game at the cabin was when dad took a rope and tied a plastic orange sled behind the green monster station wagon. His job was to make us spill and land face down in the ditch. With two or three kids in the sled, it was pretty easy. The more snow down your coat, the more crumpled and upside down your body, the more dad laughed.

The first time my dad took my brother hunting, when Pete was about four, they were around a mile from home, and my brother turned to my dad and said, "maybe one of us oughta keep mom safe at home." So my dad pulled over and let Pete walk home.

In those days, dad had a pigeon coop. I guess he still does, anyways, when my brother was five years old my dad sent him in there to get what he thought was a crow that had gotten in there and was stuck and couldn't get out. Pete was in there for a really long time, but my dad figured he was OK. When he emerged, bloody and scratched to bits, holding an owl upside down by the leg, my dad felt kind of bad. Or maybe proud, that his little boy became a man after killing an owl with his bare (maybe mittened) hands. -And owls are nasty creatures.

Me, describing the difference between my sisters.

"I think you have Keri mixed up with Kelly. Kelly is the one with sandwiches in her bed, and cereal bowls under her bed. Keri is the one who has dogs who crap and pee all over her house, and she just wipes it with some Basic H and a paper towel."

And Keri replied:
Thank you for straightening that out. But I use Shaklee Basic G not H which is
a Germicide disenfectant, which kills every kind of germ.

An Old Story from Kasey

I just want to take a little trip down memory lane with all of you. This is a shout out to all of those kids out there who had a father named Hal Hexum.

Kady and Kasey Hexum were once young girls who cared what people thought of them. They knew that in order to have true friends they must drive the proper vehicle. They also knew that while they were taking swimming lessons they would need a ride home from their father. (Cue da-da-da-da music for impending doom).

They each had a plan in their own minds, neither thinking to discuss it with the other. Just knowing that when that large blue van, with hundreds of rust spots, each the size of Rhode Island (and coved with a darker blue in spray paint that dripped down the side to the bottom of the van), came into view they must be quick. They heard him approaching before they saw him. Their minds worked quick, they both headed into the parking lot and leaned on some parked cars. Their demeanor was leisurely, but inside their hearts were beating with the sound of a thousand drums. Their father pulled up to the curb shielding them from the eyes of their fellow swimmers.

Relief and sweet release! Unknowingly he had worked it just so, they jumped from their hiding spots and slid the heavy door open and working as a team in consentrated silence they slammed it shut with the strength of 10 men.

Now they ducked and cowered below the windows, Kady taking a spot in the back amoung the dog crates and boxes of rifles, shot guns and homemade-Hal-polished bullets. Kasey not being so lucky as to secure this spot first squeezed herself into the front seat with their dog Tika (her father's definition of a sister). They hoped their friends didn't put two and two together, seeing them one minute leaning on some cars and the next disappeared all together.

Still cowering below the windows, Kasey caught a look from their father. He had a sort of enlightenment in his eye about their situation. Did he understand their dilema? Did he understand that their every happiness hung in the balance?

Much to Kasey's dismay, their father's look turned quickly to delight and she could see the wheels of evil turning in his head. He turned to roll down the window. Then proceeded to honk the horn and drive in circles around the lot all the while calling at the top of his voice, "THIS IS KADY AND KASEY HEXUM'S VAN, THIS IS KADY AND KASEY HEXUM'S VAN!"

Based on a true story, some facts have been altered to add drama.




An email reply add-on to the story from my sister Kelly:

I drove that same van to Mr. Skwarok's house. The horn got stuck, and I couldn't go in to visit because it was so loud. I had to get back in the van and drive home. That van had only one passenger seat and it belongs to a dog. If you sit in the seat the dog kicks you out and you have to ride on the floor in the back.

Too bad you girls didn't get to experience at an age were it mattered, the 7 seater station wagon with the wood paneling...with a box of pigeons that fly out of their box and poop on you while you're driving down the road.

Or the rambler with no floor below the floor mats...and arriving anywhere mud-drenched after you were late because you were making yourself look good, but on the way a rain puddle came splashing through the hole in the floor and drenches you and your sister. You happened to be in the back because you jumped in in a mad dash. But the mud still reached you in the back seat.

A Story from my Aunt...found this old relic in my email.

Ryan (*her son, my cousin) was in football when he was about 12, Minnetonka had white polyester pants. He came home with terrible grass stains on them. I had a bar of this laundry soap from Mexico called Don Maximo which my neighbor gave me. So I rubbed the stains in this soap. It took all the stains out and these pants were spotless. The next day at practice, Ryan is out there in the middle of the field and I could easily pick him out because his pants also were the whitest like neon. He really stuck out and I was really glad about it. Until I had to drive him home. It was only a mile, thank god, but I was told how embarrassing it was for him when he got teased that his mommy cleans his clothes. He said he felt like a little sissy. All the other kids wore dirty ones. And I guess athletes like the sweat image.

Nonetheless, I was pleased and decided if I took this bar of soap to the crotch of my underpants, I could have like new underwear again. Stains be gone!!!!! Sure enough it worked and it really does, I am serious. But the soap bar has granules in it and when I rubbed my favorite pair they were ruined because I rubbed the crotch right out of them.

That was years ago and I single-handedly invented crotchless panties and never got the credit. This is not the first time I invented something and did not get rich off it. You need to patent your ideas. I failed to do this. Someone named Jenna Jameson is living in the Hollywood Hills in a mansion because she jumped right on the idea. That is why I am where I am today, penniless and at the mercy of this cruel world. So I had no choice but to stop using the soap. Emotionally I could never pick up another bar again.

Learn from my mistakes, I always say.

When I have more time I will tell you about the thong.

An email from my sister Keri dated 01/19/07.

Kady,

I keep forgetting to tell you we are keeping your toilet and putting it in the basement bathroom at Oak St. How much do you want for it? It is a nice toilet.

Keri

Tourists in Our Own City

I just did something I have been wanting to do for a long time. And really, how can you go on a tour of the world if you haven't even seen the sights in your own city? So I decided that before I leave my beloved Minneapolis, I owed it to myself to pay tribute, however small. Of course the day couldn't be any crappier, slipperyer, or colder. But anyway. We started out with a visit to the Mill City Museum, "the most explosive museum in the world". In the 1800s this place blew up because they had no means of collecting the flour dust and they were ignorant of how explosive it was. Somebody lit a match or something and pretty soon there were chunks of this building landing all over the city. The shock was felt as far away as Wisconsin, where people mistook the shaking for an earthquake. My sister Kasey and my nieces Miyo and Hanna joined my friend Laurissa and me for the tour. It's $10 per adult, $5 per teenager, and free for kids. I highly recommend it, in part because of a video called "Minneapolis in 19 Minutes Flat" which left me in tears. This is a pretty cool town, folks.

Miyo "reading" about wheat, and enjoying the mill stone brought into the museum.

Vacuum dust collectors, brought in to prevent another explosion. They work by basically vacuuming the dust out of the air.

A demonstration of how the place blew up. This guy added a teaspoon of flour a little air and then caused a spark and it BLEW UP! He said there were a million pounds of flour produced every day. Imagine the explosion if a teaspoon of flour was enough to SHOCK! you.

From there, Kasey had to get going to pick up her other kids off the bus, and so Laurissa and Hanna and I continued our tour of the city and visited Minnehaha Falls, frozen and mysteriously blue in color. There was a man behind the falls in hiking gear and we all decided that would be fun, but our shoes probably wouldn't allow the climb down the restricted stairway.

And then it was on to my favorite bakery, "A Baker's Wife", where they serve the most fantastic tea cakes you've ever had. Please go there immediately and buy one. To DIE FOR.



Then, Laurissa had to go to work and so Hanna and I went to a movie at the Riverview. They are a $3 theater in South Minneapolis, but only charge $2 for a matinee. We saw The Fantastic Mr. Fox at 5pm for $4 and loved it. Technically it was $8 because we forgot they only take cash and I only had $2 on me, so I had to take cash out of the ATM which probably has a $2 fee, and then my bank will probably charge me another $2. Then, after we left the theater, Hanna found a bunch of cash in her pocket. Dang!
These reels were in the hallway outside the theater. They all said New Moon on them. I'm really not sure, but could it take this many canisters to house one movie? Cool.

The movie let out at 6:30. We found out that the MIA (Minneapolis Institute of Arts) is open until 9pm on Thursday nights and is always free. So we went and I was really impressed with the selection of art and sculpture collected from the world over. India, China, Japan, the South Pacific, the Americas, Africa...great collection. Hanna was most enamoured with the India rooms, where there were incredibly intricate carvings of Hindu figures, surrounded by tiny little people carved in the stones. Daughters of the Sun played a free concert, and so we perused art to a nice soundtrack. I admit it was very loud in the museum, and a little echo-y, so I employed my earplugs. I always carry them in my purse, because, well...I'm in a band. *cough* And I made sure to tell the lady that asked me where I got my earplugs the same thing. *cough*

Minneapolis, Kady style. And, my photos are all pretty dark, because I had forgotten that I changed my F Stop to -2 in Mexico because it was way too bright. Sorry about that, folks.

One Last Trip out to Hutchinson

I visited my family in Hutchinson a couple weekends ago...Krista brought a leg of lamb and cooked it up and this was our meal. YUM. Sorry, Keri, I posted the photo of you with your eyes closed, but it's only because you call yourself Prettiest Sister, and since you just TURNED 40, I wanted to cast some doubt on the title.



These are some of my very favoritest people in the whole world: (Miss you already)


Afterward, we played Apples to Apples:

What to Make for Dinner When You're Moving

First, empty out your veggie drawer. Chop and saute anything in there. I had mushrooms, yellow squash, and spinach. Frozen artichoke hearts from the freezer had to be steamed, then sauteed. Throw in some olive oil, fresh garlic, butter and a splash of wine...or the Noilly Prat Vermouth that you've had in the cupboard forever. Then take your jar of Spaghetti Sauce (in this case, Trader Joe's Organic Vodka Sauce) and get that in there just to heat it up. Serve over pasta. Eat in paper bowl with plastic fork.

Mexican Reflexicans

So I have to say that when I think about kicking off a trip around the world to explore and create adventure, staying at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico was not my first thought. However, a good deal can't be ignored and when I got the Travelzoo email offering 7 days in Mazatlan including flight, hotel, and all food and drinks for $700, I jumped at it. Especially since that is the exact amount of money that my niece Hanna had saved from babysitting last summer. The downside is that you pay upfront for all of your food and drink for the week, and so you feel a financial obligation to eat every single meal at the resort. The hazard there is that it is very possible to get sick of the food, which isn't usually that great, and not leaving the resort isn't very 'cool' or 'adventurous' or whatever. But, after the two crazy whirlwind vacations I had this fall to Scandinavia and to South America with something going on every single day, and after the year I had at work with crazy long hours and after having quit that job and the stress of trying to sell every single thing that I own and find a renter for my house in an economy that calls for rent of about half of what I need to cover my mortgage, that All-Inclusive vacation was just what the doctor ordered. And let me tell you the resort got the short end of that stick. I layed around for 7 straight days, looking up from the pool or the ocean only briefly to order another pina colada or margarita. The only schedule to follow was the hotel activities board:

10am Stretching

10:30 Spanish Lesson

11am Ping Pong

11:30 Relaxing music

12pm Water Aerobics

12:30 Crazy Game

1pm Bingo

...this part I can't remember because we never really participated in any of it...

4pm Beach Volleyball

We usually slept through Stretching, and only woke up early enough one day to take a Spanish Lesson. We played Ping Pong pretty much every day, and did Water Aerobics twice. (We watched it 5 times from our pool chairs.) We played beach volleyball most days. All of the other time in Mexico was spent laying around. All day long. It was glorious and SO nice to relax. I hardly had time to think about craigslist and rent.com and what I should store and what I should throw away and how much money I have saved and how much it's going to cost for plane tickets and will I get murdered and will my plane crash...and...all the zillions of thoughts that are causing me to be very forgetful and flightly these past couple of months.

Every night we would discuss what to do the next day i.e. horseback riding, snorkeling, zip line jungle touring, and, every morning, we would decide instead to go back to the pool. p.s. we didn't even get so much as a hint of the slightest suggestion of a tan, thanks to our 70SPF sunblock, which we bathed in every morning before leaving the hotel room.

(I spent an additional $40 on tips, a magnet, and Dairy Queen...so, total cost for the trip: $740.)

We are home now... MEXICO photo special

Click here to see our photos from Mexico


We had a great time, it was very relaxing. And now, I have 12 days to clean this house and get it rented out!

I have sold pretty much every single piece of furniture with the exception of two or three things and my other items have been reduced to a couple boxes' worth. WOW. This is really happening. How incredibly exciting and sad, all at the same time. A person can really get attached to silly things like rugs and couches and chairs and wine racks. I really do love my house and all my stuff. And that's what makes this adventure so exciting. Leaving it all behind in search of the experience of a lifetime. Teri and I leave for Australia on February 2nd, with a week's stop in Apia, Samoa. She is checking out scuba trips and we have places to stay in Melbourne, Sydney and New Zealand. YAY! Stay tuned...

Another Interesting Dude

So obviously I forgot my USB port, so no photos yet, sorry. I will post some when I get home.

We have been spending some pool time with a guy who recently found out that he has terminal cancer. He decided to spend his last months traveling. He is here in Mazatlan for three weeks...then will go on to the Dominican Republic and then back home to Minneapolis for his Doctors visit. From there he hopes to go to Australia. He is traveling in between chemo treatments, because he can take the first strain intraveinously, and then the next few weeks' treatments orally. Anyway, it got me thinking about what I would do if I found out that I was dying and I think I would do the exact same thing. He is flying family members down to meet him at different times and has a brother who is spending the whole trip with him. Im trying to convince him to write a book, because he has had quite an interesting life. He graduated high school and from there, without attending college, built a business where he owned four restaurants and a golf course. When he got his diagnosis, he sold it all and decided to travel. As a youth, he spent three years in Africa living in Ethiopia (now Eritrea) and another place I cant remember. He told Hanna and I how he and his brother would catch squid using just a broomstick with a nail in the end. They would poke the squid in the head, and then its tentacles would wrap up the broomstick and then they would put it in a bag. Good eats, apparently.

More Mexico

Today I met a dad from Canada who told me a horrible story with a moral. The moral is trust no one when travelling.

So anyways, he was in San Francisco by himself and was about 10 blocks from his hotel. He had gotten turned around and so he took out his map and was walking with it. A kid on a bike came out of the alley and asked him where he was trying to go. So Canadad explained where his hotel was, but he couldnt quite figure out how to get there from here, and where exactly was here? The kid said, "Oh, no problem, just take this alley, and then go right at the next street and then left...etc." So Canadad did, and he was jumped half way through the alley. A man put a knife to his throat, so hard that it drew blood. "WHERES YOUR MONEY?" "I dont have any!" "I DONT BELIEVE YOU!"

Then the bad guy checked Canadads back pocket and started checking all his pockets. Finally Canadad grabbed the $200 he had in his front left pocket and threw it to the ground about four feet away. The kid lunged for it and when he did, Canadad KICKED him hard in the ribs. Another guy jumped out from behind a dumpster and Canadad KICKED him in the nuts. He RAN for the street, and dialed 911 the whole way. A man helped him tell the police where he was and the cops brought him back to his hotel. They said that he probably shouldnt be alive and that throwing his money away from him like that probably saved his life.

One week later, the cops called and said that they think they found the culprit, because he went to the hospital for a badly bruised testicle. ha! Anyway, Canadad decided not to press charges, because he didnt want to drive back down to San Francisco and also because he didnt feel sure he could identify him, it all went so fast. But I thought probably that guy wouldnt maybe jump anybody for a while.

Scary...

But yay Canadad! Thats right girls, go for the nuts. Oh, and throw your money or wallet away from you if youre being mugged.

Mexico!

So we are here, and the weather is just fantastic. We arent getting tan of course, but we didnt get burned yet either so thats a plus. We are pretty much taking a bath in 70 SPF every morning. Our days so far have consisted of sitting by the hotel pool and swimming in the ocean. The first day we were here we took a Spanish lesson, played in a ping pong tournament, played beach volleyball...saw three HUGE iguanas by the pool. They seriously just sort of live in the pool area. ICK. The big momma was coming right for us! But slowly, so we made our escape. Just kidding, she never got within 30 feet, but I didnt like that one bit. The next day I was holding a different, smaller iguana on my arm. Go figure. I was kind of forced into it by its owner, and then he wanted money.

Hanna lost her favorite sunglasses in the ocean, and we were scared away by jellyfish.

Internet time is scarce...sorry for the slow posting. But really theres not a whole lot going on besides relaxation and bad movies.

Today I saw the grossest feet in the history of the world. Looked like cauliflower for toes. ICK. And they were in the same pool water as me. Shoulda got a photo.

Estate Sale Stories

Lots of very interesting people came by the sale.

Some people had the presence of mind to take off their shoes, others lightly dusted them and tracked snow all over my house. Some people knocked and others came in. I finally had Hanna put a sign on the front door that said, "Don't knock. Just come right in." And another that said, "Remove boots and shoes."

Some people agonized over spending 50 cents on a necklace, others didn't balk at all on a $40 item. Some tried to haggle, others not at all.

There was the dealer who scanned my books' bar codes looking for priceless items that I had listed for $1. He was mad that he wasn't the first one here. He thought that the sale started at 9am, because that's what I posted on craigslist...but I put 8am on the signs that I put up on the street. He still arrived at 8:30.

There was another reseller who offered Summer $60 for her $150 Cello. Of course she declined. The interesting thing about him was that he was really good at remembering people's names. Another reseller walked into the sale a little later. "Hello Kevin.", And I asked if they knew each other. Apparently they are rival resellers who run into each other at every garage sale in the area.

Yet another reseller stopped by on Saturday. His strategy was to offer 1/2 the sales price, thinking that I would be desperate to sell at that point. He was right, and got a few items cheap. Summer recognized him from her garage sale that she had in September.

About ten people who saw my bundle of chopsticks made the exact same racist remark. "AAAAH SOOOO". Not funny, people, jeez!!

And then there was the impossibly old man who bought a few $.50 items. He was pretty chatty. He told Hanna something was on her nose, and when she moved her hand there to wipe it, he said, "Your hand!" When we laughed, he felt encouraged and proceeded to tell the following joke: "Have you heard about Obama's new healthcare plan?" (This is where I cringed, eyeing the very-possibly staunch liberal neighbors mulling about.) "Yah, it's like when you go to the hospital and put on that gown. You think you're covered by you're not." (I sighed in relief. Not so bad.) Later, as he was walking out the door, he yelled to me, "Have you heard about Obama's new healthcare plan?" I assumed this was one of those 'black-and-white-and-red-all-over' jokes that have many various punchlines, and that he would tell me a different ending. Nope. "Yah, it's like when you go to the hospital and put on that gown. You think you're covered by you're not." I laughed, and he was satisfied, but as he shut my front door I looked at Hanna and we laughed a little harder, because about three minutes transpired between the telling of the same joke.

Estate Sale Stories

Since I am leaving the country in February, and have had no bites for the "furnished rental" I posted, I decided I was going to post all of my furniture right away in January, to give everything time to sell. I had plans to go out to Hutchinson for the first weekend in January and spend some time with my family, but thought it would be best to at least post everything so that I could field phone calls all weekend from Hutch. (I'm a check-SOMETHING-off-the-list type of person, and getting some items on craigslist felt like a HUGE thing to check off the list.)

So last Friday night Summer and I posted about 8 items. Little did I know that I would get phone calls immediately and that people would want to come over right away. Somebody came and bought my couch THAT NIGHT. Also somebody wanted my dressers (an item I didn't think would go so fast...). So as the dude was checking out my dressers, he decided to look at my bed. "Is this for sale?"..."Yes." I said, and in that instant, I turned around. He and his son, fully clothed and in winter coats, were LAYING ON MY BED. Side by side, arms at sides, feet dangling from the bottom...

I had pulled my covers and sheets aside to photograph the mattress itself. No matter...There were my pajamas and a bunch of laundry laying on the bed...No Matter. They just flopped themselves right down. Later on, the son picked up my guitar and just started playing it. (It wasn't for sale.)

They left with my dressers that night and promised to come back the following week for my bed and nightstand. Thankfully they didn't come until the a whole week later, so I had a bed to sleep in for 7 more nights!

So they came yesterday and had to be upstairs to take apart the bed frame, but I had the sale going on downstairs, so I could only check on them periodically. Every time I came upstairs, the dad was working on taking apart the bed, and the son was playing my guitar. Without asking.

I Guess I'm the Tampon Lady

A friend just emailed me and told me that he passed the tampon aisle at Walmart the other day and thought of me.

Which reminded me of yet another tampon story:

I was just in that aisle the other day (no reason) and a man was standing there staring at all the products, sticky note in hand, looking completely lost. So first I laughed at him, and then as a joke, I told him to let me know if he needed any help. Clearly his wife had given him specific instructions and he couldn't find the right ones. He leaned over and read from the sticky note in a whisper, "I'm looking for Tucks Pads". "OH!" I exclaimed, "those aren't in this aisle..." I hesistated, but then went on, "you know that's for hemerhhoids, right?" And he whispered back, "I know."

And Without a Job I'm Still Insanely Busy

So folks...YES...last Thursday, December 31st was my final day at my job.


I had a retirment party for myself where I did this:


And this:


And ever since then I have been frantically trying to get ready for my HUGE estate sale this Friday and Saturday. I have sold a ton of furniture already on Craigslist and I even sold my quilt stash. Everything goes! It's pretty sad to watch your life's collections walk out the door, but I'm excited that I'm about to walk out the door myself!

Anyways, the blog has been sort of slow this week, but expect exciting things to happen soon! Hanna and I leave for Mazatlan on Monday, and I fly to Samoa on February 2nd...

Yet another embarrassing tampon story

Here's another tampon story for you:

It originates from the basement of the huge Blue Cross Blue Shield office in Eagan MN where I had my first full-time-grown-up job after I moved to the city. I was a Customer Service Representative and that meant working in a sea of cubes every single day. Mine was pretty far from the bathrooms, and in order to get there, I had to walk the equivalent of a city block past a million people in a million cubes.

One day I walked that city block all the way to the bathroom. As the door shut behind me, I saw that I had a tampon in my hand.

(I forgot to shove it up my sleeve.) I've never been one of those girls who brings their purse to the bathroom. Also I didn't want to put it in my pants pocket, where it's shape could be easily identified. Wouldn't want anybody to think I had my period!