What We Do at Night

There is a phenomenon that occurs when you visit tropical areas near the equator.  The sun goes down at 6pm.  All year long.  Not a ton of variance.  In Minnesota, in the summer, the sun stays out from 5:12am until 9:20pm on the longest day, and rises at 8:03am to 4:20pm on the shortest day.  I just realized I have been lying to people and telling them that in winter we only have 4-5 hours of sun.  Oops.  (They should know I always exaggerate by now.)  But my point is that in Minnesota we have 8 hour days and we have 16 hour days.  Here in Costa Rica it's completely the same all the time.

Which poses a problem for two gals who really aren't into the club scene.  What do you do after dark?  Here's what we do:

We walk for miles down the beach at sunset.

Some of the beaches have shells instead of sand.

We bring Nicole's dog, "Scotty", and he is really friendly and everybody loves him.

Then we come home and make dinner.

Brussels Sprouts?

Gross, right?  Not necessarily! 
Here's how to make brussels sprouts taste good (special thanks to Summer Grimes for this one):

Buy the little minis fresh.  Cut them in half the long way.  Toss them with olive oil and sea salt.  Place them face down on a cookie sheet, which you can line with tin foil if you're not into dishes, and throw in the oven for about 20-30 minutes at 400 degrees.  I like them when they are just the slightest bit charred, as pictured above.  But go with your preference, just kind of "toast" them.  YUM.  They make a yummy healthy snack.  Eating them reminds me of eating popcorn.

The fish is Corvina.  Nicole just mushed a bunch of garlic for the top and salt/peppered it with olive oil.  Maybe 18-20 minutes at 400 degrees.  You gotta just take them out when they're cooked through.  The other day we had tilapia and for the salsa on the top I minced garlic, tomato, cilantro, cucumber and that was added after the cooking.  That was pretty good too.

Goodbye sun!

Hello, wine!

JUST A COUPLA WILD AND CRAZY GALS!

At the Risk of Sounding Like Sicky McSickerson

I caught a cold.  Hmmmmm  I wonder how?  I'll thank Snot-rag Norma later.  So here's my new lease on life.  For 2011.  Actually it was for 2010.  Where DID the time go?  I try to rest and sleep when I am sick.  Yes I did take a bus and cross a border the day after I crushed my tiny, tiny toe.  But when I got Dengue fever, I layed in a bed and only got out for blood draws and Doctor's visits for two whole weeks.  And it was heaven.

Heaven because at one point in my life, I went 12 years with using only three sick days.  I'm not kidding.  And one time I was lying about being sick (sorry Jennifer.  It was in 2002.  It was for a good cause.  And I'll never forgive myself.)  But the point is not that I never got sick.  The point is that I was chronically at work.  Every day.  For 12 years.  Save for my vacations, and OOH the vacations.  I mapped them out long before January 1st every year and knew exactly how many days I had and scheduled flights around Holidays and weekends so as to maximize my time off.  When Advisors went to a PTO system in 2005, I was the only employee who technically gained 5 more days of vacation because I never used my sick days.  I forewent (is that the past tense of the word forego?) some weddings and funerals and those little "me" days people take to get shopping done or whatever, in order to have an extra day in some foreign country.

I went to work sick.  We all did.  If you called in sick at a job like I had, you would just come in the next day to twice the work.  So it was never really worth it. 

And now, without a job, or a home for that matter, I have the luxury of laying on a couch and watching TV when I don't feel well.  And it's MAGIC.  I don't recover any faster, but I feel really GOOD being able to be lazy like this.  For the last four days, I have:

• taken one shower
• brushed my teeth maybe twice?
• watched a marathon of House
• watched a marathon of Bones (oh M. G. I'm in love with that bearded redhead.)
• watched Stepmom
• watched the last half of that crazy Bride movie with Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson
• watched parts of Reign Over Me with Adam Sandler
• watched a reunion episode of Jersey Shore just to see what all the fuss is about
• forgot the names of the ten other movies I watched on TV...
• lost Nicole's dog twice, both times finding him under her bed (DUH on the second time. I know.)
• made gallo pinto
• made spaghetti
• watched several episodes of Bonanza in Spanish which made me miss my dad
• left the house once

And here is the story of me leaving the house:

I got a knock on the door.  It was the next door neighbor, who happens to be the son of our landlord.  He had his phone in his hand and said it was Nicole.  Nicole who probably wishes I would spring for a cell phone, but I won't.  Anyways, she says to me that her car is in the shop and she is still one hour away and they close in ten minutes and could I PLEASE walk down and pick it up?  Because otherwise we will have no car for the whole weekend.  Yah no probs I says I says.  I slap on some sunscreen and sunglasses and I'm off.  But the gate to our little complex is shut and I don't have a clicker.  I go back and make the landlord's son open it for me.  He says, "you come back?" And I say, "yes, but I'll have the car and it has the clicker."  So I walk and I walk and I walk and it's only a two lane highway and I have to do calisthenics every time a car comes so they don't hit me and I don't touch the grass on the sides of the highway which might as well be molten hot lava, because who knows how many snakes and scorpions it contains?  This is a very real fear people.  I get there.  I get the car.  I drive it (p.s. first time driving a car in like months.) back to our house, watching the odometer click off 1/2 mile.  Pretty good.  Exercising.  Sweet.  Losing weight.  Probably ten pounds.  Yes!  Then I look for the clicker.  Not there.  &^$^#$.  It's so hot, and there's not a ton of shade to park in, and then I decide to go and yell for the landlord's son, but I have to walk down the highway a bit again.  He doesn't hear me.  A man in a car yells and holds out his hand as if he's gonna grab my butt.  I'm so over this scene.  So I decide to take a nap in the car.  Too hot.  Then I notice two bicyclists coming up our hill.  My first and immediate thought is that these men can give me a boost over the eight foot gate.  In hindsight I should have just parked Nicole's car next to the gate and used IT to boost me.  Oh well, that's not what I did.  What I did was go up to them, (they are resting, we live on a hill.) and say in broken Spanish:

"You help me.  Over wall."

And he points at his foot which is wrapped not unlike mine when I had the bad toe and I ask him what happened and he explains that his flip flop broke.  OK.  Not now I said, rest, then you help.  So after he rests a bit we go over to the gate, and he starts to climb it.  NO I says, and pantomine the laced hands method for giving another person a boost over a wall.  He assumes the position.  I take off my shoe and stick my foot in his hands.  His hands are right next to his you-know-what, and because I have NO upper body strength, I'm pretty much digging and digging and digging my foot around in the you-know-what, and because I am mortified and embarrassed, I can't focus on the task at hand and the scaling of the fence takes way longer than it should.  Finally I get up there, and I'm straddling the fence.  I yell for him to throw me my shoe and say THANKS, and as he walks away, he's got both hands on his low back and he's making "ouch my back hurts" noises. 

THANKS is right.  THANKS for NOT waiting a mere five seconds for me to get safely behind the wall to make it painfully obvious that I am fat and just broke your back.

The Year in Review - 2010

You thought I couldn't make it, right?  365 posts in one year.  365 days with no real income.  100 showers.  EW!  You know it.

But here I am.  One year ago today, I quit my job and spent the following month selling everything I owned to prepare for a monumental trip around the world.  It was really hard because I liked my stuff.  I had good stuff.  The kind of stuff it takes years to accumulate.  Like my wine rack.  It took me forever to find a perfect wine rack that fit perfectly in the corner of my dining room.  Most wine racks only hold like 6 bottles of wine.  Or they're ugly.  But patience paid off and I found one on Craigslist.  And my dining room table.  I got it at a World Market that was about to close.  I found a couple of vintage blue bucket chairs that framed my fireplace perfectly from Vintage Modern Living out of Minneapolis.  All of my artwork - collected from local artists and friends...well, those I kept.  You can pry them from my cold, dead fingers.  Or the cold, dead fingers of the five or six friends who are graciously storing them for me at the moment.  And the clothes.  The clothes!  Since I've been wearing the same four outfits for about a year, I think back to my cram-packed walk-in closet with definite longing...

But really, I'm not feeling too too extra nostaligic at the moment.  Because even though I gave it all up, I got so much more in return.  For your viewing pleasure, some of the highlights of my 2010:

I got to hold a koala in Australia!

...hiked on a glacier in New Zealand

...experienced amazing hospitality, the world over.  (Samoan man sharing coconut from his yard.)

...saw Angkor Thom in Cambodia

...learned to surf

...went horseback riding in Guatemala

...swung from a rope into crystal clear waters in Laos

...watched a boat go through the locks at the Panama canal

...faced some very real fears.

...saw these buildings in Kuala Lumpur I've been dreaming about for years

...fed an elephant

...rode a motorscooter around Thailand

...learned to SCUBA

...Zip Lined in Nicaragua

...quality-timed it with my mom and dad

...and got to spend all summer with my favorite little boy in the whole world

What was your favorite blog post from 2010?  Comment me, I'm totally curious!  Here's mine.  Drum roll please.  Here, for your re-viewing pleasure:

Click here for my favorite blog post of 2010.

It's not over yet folks.  I'm not planning to go home anytime soon, so stay tuned for more zany adventures, fear-facing, and of course, more poop stories.  I haven't even begun to tell all of those.

Makin' Plans...Big Plans.

Anciently ruined atop a mountain.

We're going to do the 4-day hike up the Inca Trail!  I went to Machu Picchu back in 2004, but took a bus to get there.  I watched all the haggard, stinky, crazy, bearded hikers walking around and I felt strangely like I cheated big time.  Then and there I decided I would hike it, someday.  Today I'm booking the trek!  I rounded up a group of 6 for sures and 3 maybes, and on May 11th, 2011 we will forego showers and pillows and fresh-smelling breath and walk the 26 miles straight up the mountain to arrive at the scene above. 

Hot New Fashion Sensation!

Click here to see the commercial that made me die laughing today.

Pajama jeans look like designer denim jeans! 
They're so comfortable, you'll want to sleep in them!
The problem with ordinary jeans is they're uncomfortable and leave marks on your skin!

Hang in there until the 1:05 mark, and watch the weird twist shimmy all the models to do show off the contours of their pajama jeans and how they fit virtually every body type!

Only $39.95.  Free 60-day money back guarantee.

p.s. I hate when people pronounce it paJAWmas.

Little Piggies

This little piggy went to market.

This little piggy went home.

This little piggy looks like roast beef.  I did ask for a 10% discount on my pedicure, but they didn't bite.

Scorpions Beware

Scorpions, you can't live here.  Even if you're just a tiny baby.  *Finger drawing line across throat.*  (Because I don't know to pantomime a mop handle squashing and a tossing in the toilet.)

Nicole did it all.  Then she says to me, "have fun pooping on a scorpion."

In Just 423 Days, You Too Can Read Anna Karenina!

Click here, follow the instructions, and you're on your way toward a minor in Russian Literature!

They will email you 423 installments of Anna Karenina.  I'm doing it, and now you can too!

Here's some info from audiobooksforall.com:


Anna Karenina has been described as the perfect Russian novel. Trapped in a loveless marriage, Anna Karenina is defenceless against the power of her passions once they are unleashed by the adoration of Count Vronsky. Having defied the rules of 19th-century Russian society, Anna is forced to pay a heavy price. Human nature, with all its failings, is the fabric of which this great and passionate work is composed.

Imitate the Statue

I am SO good at this game.

"Business Cards"

My friend Matt designed some information cards for me before my big trip so that I could share email/facebook/blog information with people I met.  When I was staying in Sydney Australia, the grandson of the couple hilariously taped TONS of my cards to his door.  I didn't even notice it until it was pointed out to me, but OH how we laughed.

Here's the little turd who did it.

The Fischers

And here is the big turd who put him up to it.

When Child Labor is OK

If it's 120 degrees with 100% humidity and that child's job is to sell ice cold beer, then I can get on board with child labor.  In fact, I'm in full support.

"One dolla one dolla one dalla lady lady lady lady lady one dolla"

"Kady Peed Her Pants"

From the annuls of the depths of my memory, this one comes flooding back every time I see a playground slide.  You know, the metal ones that you can't touch with your tongue in the winter?  My friends and I decided to fill the bottom of the slide with sand, and then slide down to the bottom and POOSH! sand goes flying.  When it was my turn, and I got to the bottom and the POOSH! happened, I decided I would sit at the bottom and make all my friends cover me in sand and then I would get up out of the sand.  How fun!  Except I didn't realize that I had to go pee, and while I was being buried I totally peed.  Kids are so gross! 

Anyway, when I stood up, my "friend" Rachel Kakageezik from two doors down started chant-singing, "Kady peed her pa-ants, Kady peed her pa-ants."

Post Number 355

One morning in Minneapolis I totally crashed on a couch in a house that my buddy Nancy was housesitting (yes, you, Natty and Dave).  In the morning there were four kids and 3 schools and so I offered to drive her oldest to school.  She hadn't eaten and so I brought her to the gas station.  I thought it was hilarious that I was trying to find something nutritious for her to eat before school, at the gas station.  Of course she chose a nasty premade sandwich and we bought gum and then it was off to school.  I felt kinda like a mom for the moment, and also kind of like a good friend.  It was a nice morning, and as I approached her high school, (not at all unaware that she is a new, small-town kid in a new, big-city school), I realized this kind of opportunity doesn't come very often.  I stopped the car in the drop off point, looked at her, and slowly rolled her window down.  No words were exchanged.  She shook her head 'no'.  I shook my head 'yes'.  She shook 'no', and I shook 'yes' for several minutes.  "I have to."  I said, and she cried just a little.  NO.  PLEASE.  Her eyes said.  YES, AND I'M SORRY, said mine back.

"HAVE A GREAT DAY AT SCHOOL, KHIA!  MAKE GOOD CHOICES!  REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE!!"  *HONK HONK*

I Heart Trees

(You may remember this poem as the one my shop teacher made me memorize and recite for too many tardy arrivals to his class. But I never forgot it.)

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth's flowing breast

A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. -Joyce Kilmer

And Hal, my dad.  My dad makes trees.  In fact he's kind of obssessed with them.  I call him Johnny Appleseed, because he's constantly planting trees.  Sometimes he just cuts off a branch of one tree and sticks it in the ground, and voila!  A new tree!  A tree that you better not accidentally scrape with the lawn mower because then you pretty much killed the tree and he'll never forgive you.  I often wonder if he would be as mad if somebody scraped ME with a lawnmower.  Probably not.  He'd probably suggest it was somehow my fault because, stupid, I got in the way. 

Remember this old Hal-ism? "I don't mind killing animals, but I hate killing a tree...unless it's already dead and I cut it up to burn it."

Maybe this is where I get my love for trees.  I love them.  I love taking pictures of them, and seeing their silhouette against the sky.  This year I have seen so many amazing trees.  Here are my favorites:

Bali

Australia

New Zealand, South Island

New Zealand, North Island

Cambodia

Laos

Korea

Panama

Samoa

Singapore

Thailand

But my favorite? My absolute favorite tree in the whole world? This little momma, located in International Falls, MN, on the way up to my job at Island View Lodge. I got to drive by this tree almost every day this summer. I kept meaning to take a photo, but never got around to it. You can't really see it in this shot, but there is a huge crook in the neck of this tree.  I can't get enough of it.  Finally, when I went to dinner with my parents at Island View, I made my dad pull over the car so I could take this shot in the rain. Me and dad and my tree.