And She Said

10 years.

2011-09-11T21:06:00.000-07:00

I will start by saying that one of the most challenging parts of writing this message was (sorry family) how the f* do I begin?!?!

10 years. A decade.

I’ve scribbled numerous paragraphs in the previous weeks that were to serve as potential opening poignant reflections. In actuality, the one word that keeps coming to me is love. Love, love, love.

Whew, anyway to begin—so, in 10 years, I’ve learned the emoticon for love or a heart rather. We barely had emoticons ten years ago. 10 years ago I was also still fairly spry and nimble. Since then I’ve had my share of bumps, bruises, and wounds. The sprained ankle from skateboarding the streets of New York (never again), the busted up knee and palms from hitting a sidewalk crack wrong and flying over the handlebars of my scooter (it’s ok, you can laugh…a little), the sliced open hand from a “minor” surfing accident. Some of these wounds, although healed, you still see and some are seemingly unnoticeable and some still ache when the weather is acting some kinda way.

But the ache…the pain…the….????...there’s not a word powerful enough to capture what it was that we all went through 10 years ago on September 11^th 2001. That is a wound that is still fresh and still hurts. I couldn’t watch any of the interviews, or TV specials, and definitely couldn’t watch any of the memorial. It really, really still hurts. You would think that after 10 years a little bit of the pain would subside, but it’s still fresh…and it’s still raw. My memory in general is pretty poor but there are specific details of that day that are still quite crystal clear. I think it’s fair not to gloss them over but to share properly. That morning was the first morning of classes, a beautiful morning and I had quite the first day of classes outfit planned. Brushing my teeth and seeing the footage of the first plane, I was skeptical that it was an accident and minutes later when the second plane hit I knew this was no mistake. Regardless, our world never faced anything like that before and “reacting to a terrorist attack” was nowhere in our frame of thought, vernacular, or action plan. Out the door I went-already running late to class. While walking to the train, I saw people looking downtown and up. I didn’t know then that the first tower was falling.

Getting out of the train, 14^th St. was like being in a cloudy, twisty world of confusion. I entered class confused and alarmed that my phone and no one else’s was working. Our professor also arrived late and shortly after we looked out of our classroom windows onto 4^th Ave to see a marching procession of people, many covered in soot and dust and dirt walking forlornly uptown. Shouts of “they’re evacuating the city” rang out and we dismissed ourselves and went on our separate ways. Knowing I had plans to meet a friend who lived close to the World Trade Center at the NYU gym I started heading that way. Further downtown. As my feet hit the pavement and I brushed past people covered head to toe, hair to feet with white dusty powder the anxiety increased, the reality started becoming more clear while thoughts of the world ending and the whole chapter of Revelations swirled through my head. I started to run. The only one going downtown, thousands heading uptown.

The rest of the day was an emotional mess of locating everyone, waiting on line for the pay phone to make phone calls, gawking terrified staring at the armed military tanks going down a deserted 3^rd avenue, attempting to donate blood and being turned away, assembling at Union Square Park and signing words of love, sorrow, despair, and hope on the sidewalk and then later on random taped down sheets of paper. The park was inundated by signs from people searching for their loved ones “Have you seen?” Fire trucks would go by and everyone would stop and clap and just cry. The city, for a good month smelled like intoxicating, burning metal. I will never, ever forget that smell.

Within this world of pain and trauma there was however moments of sunshine and goodness that I will also never forget. There were moments of togetherness and honest, true love and compassion. The movie theater for goodness sakes had free movies and popcorn for everyone on September 12^th. Friends opened their homes for others displaced and opened their hearts for a space of understanding, love, and security.

Those rays of goodness I saw is my hope and my prayer for our world. More moments where we come together in forgiveness and understanding. More time spent loving and moving forward rather than analyzing our differences and putting up walls and sticking on labels.

It’s not anywhere near easy, but it’s a work in progress, I’m a work in progress. But I ask that we try. Make a conscious effort and try. Each day, remember to take a moment and take a pause. And…from one of my previous September 11^th reflections, "We can't forget about the values and our intentions that this day instilled in us and reminded us about who and what's truly important within our lives. We can't forget to value and appreciate our blessings--our lives, our family, our friends--and moreover--we can't forget not to take each day for granted and to live it to its fullest. Have faith, have love, have hope, have PEACE. Trust. Treat your spirit. Remember how blessed we are. Appreciate everything. Appreciate everyone. Enjoy and love each second. You will never be more beautiful than you are at this exact moment. It's hard. There are challenges. We falter. Duh! But stay strong."
Lastly, and as always...and for now for the 10th year...I leave you with the song my kindergartners learned and sang those insanely intense, emotional, scary, numbing, life-altering months after my world...our world..changed as we knew it. The song that I had the opportunity to teach to a new group of kindergartners last year and the song that always makes me smile and nod and say, "if only..."

Think of your fellow man, lend him a helping hand, put a little love in your heart. You see it's getting late, oh please don't hesitate, put a little love in your heart. And the world will be a better place, and the world will be a better place for you...and me...you just wait and see. Another day goes by, and still the children cry--put a little love in your heart. If you want the world to know we won't let hatred grow, put a little love in your heart. Take a good look around, and if you're lookin' down put a little love in your heart. I hope when you decide, kindness will be your guide, put a little love in your heart. And the world will be a better place for you and me you just wait and see. Put a little love in your heart.

May you all be blessed. May you know that you are loved. May you know that you are appreciated and may you share that with others. Like the memorial lights shining, may you be your own tower of light and touch people with your fingertips and radiate out. Let us move beyond ourselves so we can connect with others.

Dream marvelously and love abundantly.

Love, PEACE, hope, and laughter

Buzzzzz! aka my life with mosquitos

2010-08-09T15:56:00.000-07:00

Here I am in Jamaica. It was one of those last minute trips where you run around feeling a little anxious trying to get everything together. Needless to say, the only thing I forgot to pack (so far) was a pen and...well, mosquito provisions.

I mean, we're in a country where mosquitoes are quite rampant--did I really need to bring my own supplies? Um. Yes. Within 6 hours of being here, the alert and memo had already gone out and mosquitoes were flocking far and wide to see (and taste for themselves) who the new "survivor" on the island was. Lots of borrowed anti-mosquito oil, bug-bite cream, anti-itch cream, and "go away mosquitoes" candles later...I've decided to throw my finger up at my native friends and go "Costa-Rican" on them. This means I'm resorting to the ways of last summer where baths in OFF are mandatory and one does not eat, sleep, or venture anywhere without the OFF bath.

I may be stinky and I may be laughed at and I may still get Dengue Fever, but itchy and covered in hives I am not! Hahahaha mosquitoes!

They say 10 years of residency is a sign of being a true New Yorker...well!...

2010-01-26T20:16:00.000-08:00

Today I had one of those "I guess I'm officially a New Yorker" moments.

For those of you who live, or have lived in New York you may be familiar with the bus and the sporadic "back door! back door! back door!" moments where the bus driver, for whatever reason, just doesn't open the back door or closes it too soon and you're stuck in fear that you're about to have to miss your stop and walk several blocks out of your way if the bus takes off before you yourself can get off.

Most people now yell, scream, perhaps curse, but definitely get loud about it. Now, I remember in the past when this has happened to me, the first time in particular. This was my reaction: [inner monologue: ohhh....oh no...the door...] (then in a meek whisper) "ummmm.....excuse me uh...excuse me uhhhh...I was wondering if you could uh...the uh...door...'cuse me...??" And then either the bus would take off and I was left sighing and shaking my head or someone had my back and yelled, screamed, or cursed on my behalf.

Fast forward to today. The door, the darn back door. The bus driver didn't even bother to open it. Me however, I didn't even skip a beat..."HEY!!!! COULD YOU OPEN THE BACK DOOR!!!!........please"

Who knows where that came from???

Ohhh New York...concrete jungle where dreams are made of....

Just for funzies

2010-01-04T21:52:00.000-08:00

2009 September 11th Reflections...

2009-10-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

Eight. Eight is that anniversary year where you give people bronze, or pottery, or lace or something. The number eight also looks close to the infinity symbol and is often associated as such. Hmm... Infinite--indefinite, immeasurably great, unlimited, endless. Now let's go back to immesurably great. I'm thinking of great not in the sense of length or space but in the sense of a kind, thoughtful, compassionate way to act towards or treat a person. Hmmm!

I guess that was a little bit of an opening tangent, but I think the point I'm reflecting on touches on the usual theme and words found within these (my annual September 11th) emails: "We can't forget about the values and our intentions that this day instilled in us and reminded us about who and what's truly important within our lives. We can't forget to value and appreciate our blessings--our lives, our family, our friends--and moreover--we can't forget not to take each day for granted and to live it to its fullest. Have faith, have love, have hope, have PEACE. Trust. Treat your spirit. Remember how blessed we are. Appreciate everything. Appreciate everyone. Enjoy and love each second. You will never be more beautiful than you are at this exact moment. It's hard. There are challenges. We falter. Duh! But stay strong."

Word.

So as I went through this day and had the usual flashbacks (the Today show news alert, brushing my teeth running late for class after the first tower was hit shaking my head and thinking "that was no accident," my cell phone not working, running through the streets against the crowds of people evacuating uptown, my baby blue sweater and baby blue Diesels that carried me around that day, Union Square, clapping and cheering for every firetruck that passed, candle-light vigils, trying to donate blood, the smell, the dark smoke, the burning, people in business suits covered in ash, army tanks rolling down 3rd avenue...) it all really still takes my breath away. But also today, as I remembered these memories and listened to our beautiful students read these amazing and powerful poems over the loud speaker at the times the towers were hit and at the times they fell I kept thinking about not just those I hold dear, and those that are far away (be it Florida, California, DC, Canada, France, China, Jamaica, Brooklyn or the West Village, etc etc) that I have to do a better job at keeping virtually close, but I also kept thinking about those that sometimes...you just kinda...don't want to even fake smile at. Youuuu know what I'm talking about! So that's my challenge, I'm DEFINITELY not perfect at staying 24-7-365 positive and remembering these goals and values at all times but it's easy...er...ish to snap back into focus and cherish those near to you and celebrate your blessings. Now I have to take it to the next level, I have to embrace and love and make peace and forgive even those that make the day to day a little bit more challenging. Because that's what it is all about. Putting a little more love in my heart. Whether it's that person who pushed in front of you on the subway or....well, you know who it is in your life. So yeah, I'm definitely a work in progress but you know what...world hold on! (I hope you all just sang that song in your heads ;) )Here I come!

Hope, PEACE, Forgiveness, and a Dolphins Superbowl

All my love, gabs

p.s. You didn't think I forgot did you? As always, and for the 8th year...whew, infinitely great, the song my kindergarteners learned and sang in the weeks following...

Think of your fellow man, lend him a helping hand, put a little love in your heart. You see it's getting late, oh please don't hesitate, put a little love in your heart. And the world will be a better place, and the world will be a better place for you...and me...you just wait and see. Another day goes by, and still the children cry--put a little love in your heart. If you want the world to know we won't let hatred grow, put a little love in your heart. Take a good look around, and if you're lookin' down put a little love in your heart. I hope when you decide, kindness will be your guide, put a little love in your heart. And the world will be a better place for you and me you just wait and see. Put a little love in your heart.

Gym Mishaps

2009-09-06T18:26:00.000-07:00

Who cuts open their knee on the bike machine at the gym?!?!

This girl.

Security Questions

2009-09-02T19:17:00.001-07:00

So one of my email accounts insisted that I choose two security questions as a way for me to "recover [my] account in case I forget my password."

Um, okay. So first round of choices for Security Question 1 include:
1. Where did you spend your honeymoon?
2. Where did you meet your spouse?
3. What is your youngest child's name?
4. What is your oldest child's nickname?

.....riiiiight
I chose the option of "create your own question."

Round two:
1. What is the last name of the best man at your wedding?
2. What is the last name of the best man at your wedding?
3. What is your main frequent flier number?

Seriously?!?! What are these questions?

Potty Philosophy

2009-08-06T12:46:00.000-07:00

As we slowly attempt to adjust back to life in the states, there are many differences between the Pura Vida lifestyle and the NYC lifestyle that we've been taking note of.

The first one I noticed (was still even in the Atlanta airport) and I think the most significant that sums up the difference between Costa Rica and the US is:

The way the toilets flush.

For example, here in the US...the toilets flush at a quick pace. Pssssshhhhhh! Bam. Done. In fact, most toilets you don't even have to flush yourself, it's done automatically. AND! Usually the toilets flush before you're even finished. Here's kinda how the dialogue might go: Toilet: "Pssssshhhhh! Okay! Okay! Hurry it up...move it along...pssssshhhh...you know what--I'll do it for ya! Move! Move! Move! Pssssshhhhh!!!"

Whereas in Costa Rica....the toilets....flush...reeeeeeeeally....slow... You have to just hoooooold the handle down and hope for the best. Maybe, you might even have to flush it twice...or three times. Point is...eventually the job will get done...maybe today...maybe later this afternoon...maybe tomorrow...what's the rush? No worries...pura vida.....

Reggae Side.

2009-07-20T19:06:00.000-07:00

We are stuck...on the Caribbean side. Something about bad weather and the roads being closed.

Scaring the children.

2009-07-16T15:36:00.001-07:00

Surfing is a dangerous sport. I'm not sure if you know. Not only are you pummeled by ginormous waves just trying to get out aka paddle out and stay out, but when you come in towards the shore, it doesn't always go so smoothly. As in...almost never. Every surf class I survive without a serious injury is another miracle. Each [crash] landing, I've taken to doing a lot of yelling, some cursing, deep breathing, stretches in the water, and counting of bruises after surf class. Yesterday while riding a wave in (no really--I was up, I was doing my thing) when I came down I landed on my feet...as in with my toes going under...as in landing on top of my toe nails on rocks. My exact words: "My feet! My fucking! fucking! feet!"

A little Italian child on the shore then screamed, "EEEEEEEEEE!!! Pa-paaw"

Ladies Night(s). Yes, plural.

2009-07-16T14:04:00.001-07:00

So every night in Jaco is ladies night...somewhere. It's kinda like that saying "somewhere, it's Happy Hour..."

You know I've heard of such a thing in the states before. Ladies Night. One time my friend Julie and I went for "ladies night" in Melbourne...but it was really short skirt night. So usually when they say ladies night it's usually at some sketchy place with a random drink special with shady characters and no one goes.

Ahhh no my friends, here in Jaco, Ladies Night is the new black. In fact, it's cooler than the color black. The color black isn't even cool out here, but I'll tell you what is cool....Ladies Night.

Here's the deal--you go "the spot." For example, Wednesday night it's at a deeeeesco called Backyard and Monday night is at a spot called Guanacia and Thursday night is at a place called Le Loft. Tuesday and Friday: TBD. So you're at the spot and whooop! you get in free...and then whooop! your drinks are free. So you drink free. Anything you want to drink...is free. And you have yourself a good time...for free. Every night. Free.

Me. Gusta.

le gente

2009-07-09T13:55:00.000-07:00

As we finish our first week here, there are some fascinating characters that keep us chuckling quietly inside. I thought I'd share a few....

First there's one kid from England who got ridiculously drunk at ladies night. So much so that they started giving him an "unknown delicious drink" to chug aka water and he never realized. "Yeah man! It's a new cocktail! Drink it!" About 3 glasses later he was still going strong. Same kid later that night ended up sleeping first outside on the hammock and then later on the bench in the kitchen. He now has, 40...exactly 40 mosquito bites all over his back. It's quite a sight. I was the kind person who agreed to rub cream on each one. Somewhere Mother Teresa is giving me a high five from far away.

Then there's Sara's favorite person who...and I could give you her background and life story, because we've heard it all...but it's really too much to re-tell. Everyday brings her sharing a new controversial view on life. One day it was how dirty New York is, another day it was on detaining terrorists at airports. Mmmm.

Another lovely person, and he's really very sweet should be a US gymnast because he takes every opportunity to do a headstand...handstand...backflip....and to show off his incredible upper body strength, etc, etc. Except another night after drinking (same crazy night as Mosquito Boy) I guess he and maybe some others decided to dive into the ocean. Perhaps even backflip into the ocean. Tsk tsk. Rule #1 about diving into oceans...never when dark...because you never know when an ocean is a little rockier than you expect. Yup, poor thing now has gashes all over his forehead and nose.

Speaking of gashes and/or falling...another lovely boy...I like to call him Leonardo DiCaprio from The Beach decided one night while drinking to climb a wall. ?!?!?! I dunno. I dunno. He, of course, fell and probably fractured his ear drum. He now bleeds profusely from the ear every night and has to go into San Jose weekly to check to see if he needs surgery or not.

THUNDER!!!

2009-07-08T16:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we woke up bright and early for our crocodile tour. I was stoked. Sara, not so much. She needed a little crocodile cheer to motivate her at 6:50 in the morning. Based on the stiff-arms situation, it was a weak attempt on my part, but we still made it out the door!

The croc tour was ridiculous. Sara originally thought that we would just be viewing le cros from behind a fence. Oh no, no, no! The 10 of us who went piled into this boat reeeeeeeeeeally low to the water and set off. At first we started taking pictures of every croc we saw. Then! We pulled up reeeeeeeeally close to a bank that had some crocodiles on it. The boat driver got out...and got out with a handful of raw chicken meat. Really? Seriously?? So he started playing with and feeding a crocodile, basically so it would come closer and we'd have a better view and/or to scare the crap out of a bunch of tourists. The first crocodile was about mmmm 3 ft long. Okay, little scary but slightly harmless...then, another crocodile...who they call...wait for it...Paris Hilton came along and wanted to get in on the fun (sounds about right). She was a LOT bigger, probably about 8 ft or so. After this excitement, we took off down the river in search of more...fun I guess. We then pulled up again reeeeeeeally close to a mother crocodile who was guarding the nest of her newly hatched baby crocs. Brilliant idea. She was patient for awhile while we took our pictures--she even disappeared for a few seconds. Daaaaangerous. At this point, I just kept feeling like I was on the Jaws ride at Universal Studios. "Where'd he go?? OH NO! He's ova' therrrre!" Yup. Sure enough, Momma Croc had enough of us and did a freak out flip towards the boat. Basically, "get the f- outta my space!" After a few screams and racing hearts we moved along. Later on down the river...as we...eased on down...eased on down the river...the tour guide and the boat driver then got really excited "Wow! We found him already!" One of the biggest crocodiles in the river...his name...Osama Bin Laden. I know, I know. So again, boat driver gets out with his handfuls of raw chicken meat. No. Way. Osama was 16ft long--ginormous, I think is an appropriate word to describe. Luckily I guess, Osama wasn't that hungry--but still put on an incredible display of how freakin' big he is!

So, upon our return, me being so exhausted...I guess from so much excitement said a big "NO" to any daytime activities and curled right back up in bed in the shady dark until it was time for dum dum dum....surfing. That's right, I slept a good 4 hours. Surfing. Yeah. Great. Super. Can't wait. As we lathered ourselves up with sunscreen and did positive mantras, chants, prayers, etc. we heard an all familiar sound...the sound of AC/DC filtering through our windows and doors. And by that I mean...and as much as I'd like to scream "THUNDER" it was really just the sound of heavy rain. Good. Heavy. Rain. GOD BLESS RAIN! Apparently, we still surf in rain but the waves today were over 6ft and the current was pretty ridiculous so alas, surf class was...well, not quite cancelled but rather, moved to the yoga room.

Now, I guess Sara and I rejoiced too soon because as soon as we entered we saw (another dum dum dum please) a surf board perched upon two pilate-y esque half-medicine boards. Seriously?!?! That's right, you guessed it. We had to take turns one-by-one practicing getting up on the board and perfecting our surfing formation in front of everyone. Oh it was a joy.

Bring it on!

2009-07-08T16:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, upon making our way out to the beach we heard rumors of how big the waves were. That's comforting. In order to get through Surfing Day 2...I took to calling the waves every time they came barreling towards me--just two at once, (sorry for the profanity, but it's my reality while out there nature vs. (wo)man...and a board) "bitches." It really helped with the empowering. For example, "bring it on BITCHES!" and..."that's all you got...BITCHES!" Needless to say, after apologizing to God for talking smack to his peeps, I somehow survived another 2 hours of extreme surf.

Meanwhile, in Yoga land--I've moved up to two yoga mats during practice. I need all the extra cushion I can get. Never in my life have my palms hurt. Is that even possible? To strain/build muscles in your palms. I can't even stretch my fingers out. But yoga is good, after straight sweating off all the bugspray about 15mins in, I managed to kill two mosquitos while in downward facing dog position--I'm just like KungFu Panda, except minus the chopsticks. I think my goal by the end of the month is either a free-standing tripod position and/or headstand. Hmm!

Sal Ingalterra

2009-07-07T10:53:00.000-07:00

This morning we attempted to make a hardcore delicious omelette (to prepare ourselves for our day ahead) and I chose to season it with what we thought was salt . Sal Ingalterra. England Salt so Sara says it translates to. Mmmm. There is no bit of salt in that substance. It may kinda sorta almost look like salt, but NO. ME. GUSTA. It is bitter and is going straight in the trash. Not exactly what I thought I was getting myself into. Especially when I sprinkled it liberally all up on the tomatoes...and eggs...etc etc.

Kinda like this month long of surfing and yoga classes we signed up for. Sara and I took a walk to the beach in the morning before our 2:30 surf class. Mmm...those waves are definitely bigger than any I've ever surfed. The butterflies in the stomach started getting active real quick. I mean we all know how magnificent I am at both swimming and with injuring myself, so combined...I'm a sure fire winner. Eventually, the afternoon came and it was time to face the waves. Gives a whole other meaning to boom boom pow. Luckily, our surf instructor was ridiculously nice and seemed unfazed by my shifting bikini top and probable snot coming down my nose. Glamorous. We definitely got our butts kicked. The most challenging part is that there are no breaks, no time-outs, no breathers...just constant slamming by the waves for 2 hours straight. I have a gnarly 3-inch bruise on my right thigh, a hidden bruise (most likely liver damage...jk) on my entire right side and of course the inability to move my shoulders and arms. Today, we do it all over again. Can't. Wait.

About an hour and a half after we returned from surf class, we then had yoga class. Ha. Upward-facing dog was a riot and a definite no-go. There was nothing left in my arms. I was pretty proud of myself though when I was able to land and hold...crow's pose I think it is. But then half-way through class it felt like my feet were on fire. Breaking my focus I did a quick glance down and saw the happy little mosquitos doing a ritual dance around my exposed legs. Toes, ankles, calves...weeeeeee! They were having themselves a good 'ol time. For the next 10 minutes, instead of worrying about Warrior 1 and Warrior 2 poses I concentrated on slapping the crap out of those mosquitos. Little disruptive, just a bit. Tonight's class (if I survive Surfing Round 2), I'm arming myself with: Off! Off! Off!

The hotly-anticipated Jeep-Boat-Jeep day!!

2009-07-04T20:41:00.000-07:00

Ohhhh the jeep-boat-jeep. It was a roughing-it, toughing-it kinda day. This is going to be a bit of a sloppy blog, but here are a few picture highlights. You can see the uh "jeep" aka caravan...and the uh boat. We were definitely exhausted from our travels especially exploring the country side of Monteverde. We had a three hour trip through some hardcore country and cowbow experiences, that's for sure. Luckily we were able to have a spot of nap before heading out to the rainforest. No ponchos--we went roughing it hardcore. The view was amazing. The talk of snakes and tarantulas...not so amazing. Upon returning "home" to our cozy little cabin, we remembered it was the 4th and forced ourselves to have our first night out. We dined and had a few beverages at TreeHouse Restaurant. Yummy stuff! Okay, over and out.

Speakers?!?! Of course I packed speakers, they're a travel necessity...oh snap! I forgot my sunscreen!

2009-07-03T20:48:00.001-07:00

Today we peaced out from San Jose and hit the trails to check out Costa Rica's active volcano Arenal. We really had noooo idea what our day had in store for us when we checked yes next to the beautiful box Sara, the travel agent down the street in our daaaaaaangerous neighborhood of Barrio Amon laid out for us. I heard "something something...volcano...hot springs...lunch...volcano." What we got was glorious. glorious. glorious.

So we were picked up by this delightful man named Max, Senor Max. 4 minutes into our ride I discreetly wrote to Sara, "he sounds just like Borat." Everything was "niiiiiiice." Our day traveling companions including a couple from Florida (I have spies everywhere) although the man was originally from New Zealand, and then a chatty little world-traveling youngster named Drew...who studied at Purdue (of course, I was the only one chuckling to that rhyme inside my head).

Our first stop was the gorgeous church the Catholic townsfolk from Grecia had made in Belgium (after first church burned down--it was made out of wood, and second church was destroyed in an earthquake--it was made out of concrete). Anyone else hear a Three Little Pigs spin off??

Following this Sara and I discovered an amazing feature on our cameras...color accent. Everything else that follows is pure artistry. We then did a stop off at Sarchi where they make ox-carts and brew tasty coffee before we hit the roads to the Cloud Forest. Upon exiting, me the forever bitter beaver remarked [only to Sara, not to worry]...so this Cloud Forest...that was just a lot of fog in the woods right??

Anyway, we were on our way to a "light" lunch in Arenal/Alajuela before Sara and I had massages and we skidaddled over to the hot springs of Tabacon. Oh. My. Goodness. Gorgeous.

For pictures of me almost losing my bathing suit in the waterfall, you'll have to check out Sara's blog. More end of the evening stories to come....

Ticos love their carrots!

2009-07-03T05:56:00.000-07:00

Ticos (as Costa Ricans call themselves) also love their fruit. Lonely Planet specifies, "don't leave Costa Rica without an appetite for fresh fruit." Whooops. I had a death-trap breakfast fruit plate yesterday morning. Papaya, Mango, Pineapple, Watermelon, and Bananas. Thank goodness for the bananas. The rest of the orange variety really got my morning off to a fun start. A few hours later...it was the carrots. Carrots in the salad...carrots in the rice...carrots in the potatoes. Carrots, carrots, carrots. But good, goodness that food was yummy! Anyway, enough about my food allergies and dependency on allergy medication.

We finally left Dunn Inn for an exploration of the commercialized...excuse me, cosmopolitan San Jose. Mmm. There are so many words. But pictures, as they say...are a thousand words...

Through our walks we somehow managed to find Mercado Central and enjoyed at delicious $13 lunch. More carrots, yes. We attempted to find the open art space and the Jade (pronounced Ha-day) Museum, but the impending rain encouraged us to speedy ourselves back to Dunn Inn and the awaiting Happy Hour. Feliz Ora! Indeed. I personally, became very fond of this Johnny Depp-Pirates of the Caribbean guy down the street and his jeep bungalow. So enticing!
Meanwhile, back at Feliz Ora at Dunn Inn, our emphysema friend from earlier came down at sat next to us...again...while we sipped our Imperials (shot glasses shown in picture were for our second round of beer...I'll let you figure that one out--it took us a good 35mins). We couldn't help but follow her lead and be rebels ourselves. Smoking section? Non-smoking section? So tricky!

After all this excitement...we went upstairs to take a "nap" before we hit to town to check out the cluuuuuubs over at Pueblo. And alas, this is where our day ends...

A quick pictures update

2009-07-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

Our beautiful Hotel Dunn Inn. It's growing on us. It's amazing what um....14 hours of sleep will do for you.

So here's the glorious bar that caught my eye in the guidebook, however we still have yet to partake of any beverages. This morning the barista was measuring the amount left in each bottle while we ate breakfast aka desayuno. Interesting.

This is our room. #23...big up Jordan and Beckham.

Also our quaint...or cozy little abode. You can see all of our tourist paraphenilia spread out on the bed...and Sara busily at work planning out our day trip.

A Chapter of Small Moments

2009-07-01T14:11:00.001-07:00

So Sara and I arrived safe and sound in San Jose, Costa Rica. Our 3am morning call was kicked off to an interesting start courtesy of some Sangria from Yuca Bar. Needless to say, we made it just in time. I find my prior experiences being screwed over by Delta helped me be more proactive and scoot through in the nick of time. We kept chuckling as we chose to fill out "emergency contact" forms but no one wanted to take them. Every person we encountered was like "no..no...noooo....give that to uh....yeah, not me." Finally in Atlanta (where p.s. Chick fil A could not be found) a lovely southern blonde woman in a Pink Delta outfit (casual Wednesdays we guessed) eagerly secured our emergency forms. Whew.

Upon landing...well first let me rewind for a hot second and mentioned the stunningly gorgeous Immigration officer who I noticed from the back of the line. I guess (at least I hope) my karma is turning around for the good because even though he was dealing with the "Nationals" line, he called me over to do all of my immigration paperwork. Totally sweating. As Nikul would say, he was so dreamy! Great start to Costa Rica. Okay, so we sort ourselves out and get in a cab to take us to our San Jose hotel of choice. Our cab driver, upon finding out about the area we were staying in (Barrio Amon) got all weird about it. So when we inquired more he said that this area is really dangerous. "Mucho Peligrioso." Mmmhmm...those are spanish words I understand. Including "transvistas" who apparently tend to pick-pocket in this area. So we (more Sara, because she's a Spanish rockstar) asked if he had other recommendations, which he didn't really except for one place that he was being very vague about. le sigh

Anyway, instead of going to our original choice of Casa Hilda we ended up going down the street to Hotel Dunn Inn (I was attracted to the bar they advertised). Same area and nope, doesn't really feel dangerous but there's also not much going on in San Jose at all. Kinda city...commercialized...little Naples like (wait no, not that extreme). The only restaurants I noticed surprisingly were Taco Bell, Quiznos, Subway, Papa Johns, etc etc (oh and one lone McD's). So far this hotel has been fiiiiiiiine--a little confused at check in in regards to rooms vs. beds....cuartas vs. camas. But we're cozied up with our Internet and about to plan out our next four days. Perhaps we'll skidaddle out of San Jose...blow this popsicle joint altogether and go straight over to the Cloud Forest and Volcano and/or another sexy beach town before we make our way to Jaco. Pictures to come soon. Word.

So much free time at the Orlando airport...

2008-12-27T14:30:00.000-08:00

Now's the time of year where you gotta make those "resolutions." I suppose I have a few--although I'm a staunch believer in, make resolutions as you go through the year. Why wait until the last week in December? My mom says I should resolve to try to be more on time. I told her I tried that a few years ago and it didn't go over so well.
Well, for starters, I resolve not to order Kung Pao chicken at the Orlando airport ever again... (and you know, I KNEW it was going to be a bad idea)
I want to read more. Maybe more of The NewYorker and literature as such
A few certain things aka people are going out the window. Ooops. I think I'm drunk off of the KungPao chicken and lack of natural light....

Warning:Graphic

2008-11-22T08:17:00.000-08:00

This morning as I approached the subway station at 125th and Lexington, I had to zig and zag through a lot of "emergency response" action. There were policemen, firemen, and ambulances all in the intersection. As I walked down the steps, a fireman carried a stretcher in front of me. Immediately "uh-oh" went through my head. As I got down to the subway platform, I noticed the express train was pulled 3/4 of the way into the station...that's never a good sign. A large crowd had gathered, yes, the local train was no where in sight, and the platform was swarming with MTA officials and emergency technicians. I soon found out that a man had jumped onto the tracks in front of the in-coming train. Or, as it was told to me, "a man...fell...purposely." Tears immediately filled my eyes and I could only think "oh no! why? why?" The man next to me and I started discussing about how things were so difficult these days with the economy and money and losing your jobs. I just shook my head and said "yes, times are so hard, but what a tragic solution." I couldn't help but think about Chris who was ripped from us against his will...and Uncle Dan who fought so long and hard to live. This brought the tears back again.

There was conversation about what the next steps would be with this situation. Whether they would have to split the train apart, reverse the train (aaaah), or how they would reach his body in general. Shortly after, we saw they had the body. At this point, the stairs were blocked off so you couldn't go up or down. Someone shouted over to the paramedics, "is he alive? please God!" We found out that he was! Really?!?! Oh my goodness! Many people were saying "Oh thank God!" The paramedics secured the body on the stretcher, attached an IV, and they brought him out right in front of us. In an attempt to not be too cliche, the saying is perplexing. Why can't you look away from a train wreck? I really didn't know what to expect and didn't want to look, but also couldn't not look. The man's shirt was open but there was no blood anywhere, his body...didn't look...mangled...uhh the idea of that...and he did appear to be breathing. Again, thank God. People were still giving their thanks out loud, many were wiping their eyes, and one woman in particular broke down sobbing.

At this point I wasn't really sure what to do with myself. Downtown service had been completely suspended on both tracks, I didn't want to go back upstairs right away into the mass congregation of people and paramedics. After circling the subway platform a little bit, I bid farewell to the man I had been speaking to, charged him to "take care of himself," and made my way up. I quickly phoned to cancel my original Saturday morning plans and hopped on the bus right back home to find my pj's and curl up under the covers even though the frigid 30* air suddenly didn't seem as cold as it did when I first left the house.

Life is so fragile. Everyday, so many people are losing their lives after fighting so hard for them. As I sat on the bus, crying, I wasn’t even concerned that someone might see me because you’re so anonymous in New York City. And perhaps that’s part of the problem. I realize some people feel they can go a whole day feeling completely isolated and unnoticed. So reach out and love. Love not just our loved ones. In a city where people seem to be forgetting how to say “excuse me,” rise above, remember to say hello, remember your manners, and remember it might be okay to smile at some strangers here and there, and more importantly, remember you are loved.

Unyielding Passion

2008-11-12T17:58:00.000-08:00

I wanted to send you all a brief sentiment of love from me to you. Very recently, I was reminded of how fragile life is. I promise to stop sending mushy emails solely under circumstances similar to this i.e. September 11th--but I couldn't let this moment pass without a few reflections. Friday night, one of my dear dear friends--Brian, his older brother, Chris, was killed tragically in a car accident in California. Both Brian and Chris possess two of the sweetest, purest souls I know. Just this summer when I was out in California I had the opportunity to spend time with both of them.

I was struck by Chris' incredible genuine spirit and positive energy. He's one of those individuals whose automatic acceptance, humor, love of life and for those around him automatically rub off on you. What a blessing to have someone like that in your life where you end the day in a good mood regardless of the day you just faced. I mean...it could've been the ridiculously amazing king-sized bed Chris let Tina and I crash in, but I'm sticking with it being his extraordinary personality.

So when I received this news two days ago, I just couldn't wrap my head around it. It didn't make sense. Of all people! Such an amazing family and such an amazing person--it just didn't seem fair. It suddently put a lot of things into perspective. What that translates to exactly in all aspects of my life I'm not sure yet. But I know through all of the "drama" at work, in life, etc--it does remind me to look at the bigger picture and not get hung up on the minute details. But specifically in regards to Chris, I was crush by this reality of knowing how much promise he had. Chris was bright and talented and motivated. He was so passionate and vigilant and already fighting for those issues he strongly believed in. He was really going to make an impact in this world!

But you know what? He already has! Not only has he positively affected the lives of those around him but really and truly there's no reason that the crusading for his passions need to stop because his life has.

So here's my point--besides continuing to be appreciative of those in your life and nurturing relationships, I not only continue to encourage you all to dream and to be inspired but now I challenge you to take it to the next level and make it happen. Let's start crusading to make the change we want to see in this world really happen. Let's support one another along this journey and pick up each other's battles and crusades especially when we might not be able to finish running the race the way we initially intended.

Wishing you my love and support

September 11th Reflections...

2008-11-12T17:57:00.000-08:00

Celebrate!

Bet you weren't expecting that as the subject heading this year huh? Okay, so this email may be the longest one yet. But you know what? I'm not even apologizing... ;)
Now, I must say, getting this email started this year was definitely a challenge. Not for any emotional reasons, but rather basic writer's block in general. I guess worrying about writing anything too sappy, cheesy, or repetitive from previous years. I was however, moved by two individuals who sent texts inquiring on the status of this email and when they should expect...to expect it. Thank you and love for your check-in, inspiration, and yes, motivation. I've been trying to write this email in my head over the past week. The thoughts started when I came out of the subway to meet some friends for dinner in SoHo. Boom! There they were! Every year. Without fail. Those lights. "Seriously?!?! It's that time of year again?" I pondered and screamed in my head. The night was clear, we were close downtown and those lights shone bright. Instant melancholy. It was a beautiful night both in temperature and company. I closed the evening after an impromtu birthday party/reunion/reasons to eat cupcakes and drink wine on a Monday shaking my head and thinking "wow, I'm so blessed for friends who are so generous, talented, considerate and welcoming." In an email from one of them today, a dear friend, she wrote and referred to this group of us as "the greatest make believe family in all of New York City." How true. How true. I reflect on so many of my relationships...all of you...and how you are like family. How lucky am I? How lucky are we?
So, still mid-writer's block, last night I had the pleasure of attending this new art exhibit at the fantastic Gallery Nine5 ( check it out! <http://www.gallerynine5.com/> )where I was not only surrounded by a multitude of friends, but great art, great wine, and again great [almost fall] weather. This particular exhibit explored the great burrough of Brooklyn through photography. It was beautiful, insightful, and illuminating! The photography actually sparked a conversation with a fellow-teacher friend of mine who came along, which led to an idea, and ultimately a lesson plan for today's September 11th memorial. Basically, it came down to why not memoralize and remember the victims by celebrating this amazing city of New York, which we all share.
Now, before I tell you about the outcome of this "Celebrate New York" lesson plan (I know, the suspense is just too much) I have to give you the details on this day, September 11th, itself. It started so normal! I recently moved (Note new address: 2034 5th Avenue Apt. 1A, NYC 10035--write! send postcards! I live alone, I like entertainment!) so I'm still cable and wireless-free and also made the brilliant decision to give away my radio and stereo pre-move. Basically, I have no contact with the outside world. My day begins with my IPod aka Justin Timberlake. Nothing new or revolutionary there. I did however find and grab my baby-blue sweater before I ran out of the door. The same baby-blue sweater I wore when I ran through the streets of New York against the exodus of New Yorkers evacuating downtown. The same baby-blue sweater I wore when I saw tanks drive down 3rd avenue. The same baby-blue sweater I wore while I held a candle at vigil and wrote messages of hope along the sidewalks of Union Square...
So it wasn't until I reached the bodega for my morning cup of coffee where I was inundated with "the media." The NY Times cover: Hurricanes in Haiti. Yes, important, good for you NY Times for paying attention. I even scanned the mini-news headlines to the sides...nope, nothing. NY Post...a pig with fake eyelashes and lipstick...something something re: Obama (I don't know, I didn't get it either). These newspapers were only forshadowing what ultimately felt like an uncomfortably "normal," "ordinary" day. Only the Daily News seemed to remember what day it was. Hmm. Anyway, the Daily News cover charged us to "remember the goodness that came out of that day and the weeks, which followed." Here, I cut and paste my words from previous years' emails, which for me are words of motivation and empowerment..."We can't forget about the values and our intentions that this day instilled in us and reminded us about who and what's truly important within our lives. We can't forget to value and appreciate our blessings--our lives, our family, our friends--and moreover--we can't forget not to take each day for granted and to live it to its fullest. H ave faith, have love, have hope, have faith, have peace. Trust. Treat your spirit. Remember how blessed we are. Appreciate everything. Appreciate everyone. Enjoy and love each second. You will never be more beautiful than you are at this exact moment. It's hard. There are challenges. We falter. Duh. But stay strong." And then, I breathe...
After my bodega experience my oh-too-oridinary day continued along with our school day beginning with a fire drill...followed thankfully by poems marking the times the towers were hit and when...they fell. Goosebumps.
So eventually, I popped into before-mentioned said fellow-teacher's classroom for this "celebrate New York" lesson and the students were mid-collages. Tissue paper, magazines, newspapers everywhere! Don't worry, they had a recycling plan! Mid-collage project one student came across this in a magazine (I made him cut it out so I could share): 5 Friendship Rules. 1. Resolve conflicts by communicating (remember the word AAARGH! never solved a problem!) 2. Be honest with your friends--without hurting their feelings (Telling your friend how much you hate his favorite shirt isn't the kind of honesty that builds friendship. But do share the important things, such as your emotions and your values, openly and honestly). 3. Help your friends solve problems and push them to succeed (If a friend wants to quit the softball team because she's in a hitting slump, step in. Remind her of her strengths...the most important thing is to let her know you believe in her). 4. Offer your friends understanding and support during difficult times (Don't withdraw if something bad happens in a friend's life. It may be tough, but show up and listen). 5. Share what you have in common with your friends, but accept their differences as well. Ummm...?!?! These came out of a children's magazine! Can we add these as constitutional amendments?? If only huh? So I'm already blown away by this article now folded neatly in my pocket. But these students! These amazingly brilliant, creative, insightful and talented students had all brainstormed their thoughts on New York as well as their thoughts on peace. These thoughts were extremely poignant and the teary teacher that I am definitely had to hide a few sniffles. Here are some in particular that I loved:
"New York is THE example of America."
"When I think of peace, I think of education and freedom. I think of children learning"
"When I think of New York City, I think of books, art, Riverside park, chances, spots of light, freedom, love, big apple, love, [yes, love was repeated twice--I think it speaks to its importance myself] dancing, poetry, world example. When I think of peace I think of life being as smooth as the wind like freedom. When I think of New York City I think of the Big Apple, being a free talent place where anything is possible."
So yes there's been some reeeeeally hardcore bumps in the road over the last twelve months. Surprising bumps. Bumps that we only got through because of a shear miracle. Bumps that have us crying over brunch. Bumps that made us curl up in grief or heartache. Bumps that make us want to go to bed early at night. But there have also been some really incredible moments. Moments of sunshine overlooking the city. Moments of music and movement and song and karaoke and sangria and friendship. Moments of love and togetherness and laughter and intimacy and hope and David Beckham taking his shirt off during soccer games. So celebrate I tell you! Celebrate! Everyday celebrate! Celebrate the unique relationships in your life. Celebrate them, as they shape who we are. Celebrate the conflicts, hardships, and bad days as they only make us stronger and ultimately bring us closer together. Celebrate the love around you and the humor that surrounds you. I have seen some really incredible rallying of friendship over the past twelve months. And so I thank God and celebrate all of you...the "best make-believe (and real) family" this New York City girl could have! Coincidentally, I was reading a dear friend's blog and she closed with a little Dave Matthews line, which seems so fitting and so appropriate so I'll steal...I mean borrow it as well. "Celebrate we will, for life is short but sweet for certain."
As always...and for the 7th year...(wow, seven years)...I leave you with the song my kindergartners learned and sang those insanely intense, emotional, scary, numbing, life-altering months after my world...our world..changed as we knew it. The song that always makes me smile and nod and say, "if only..."
Think of your fellow man, lend him a helping hand, put a little love in your heart. You see it's getting late, oh please don't hesistate, put a little love in your heart. And the world will be a better place, and the world will be a better place for you...and me...you just wait and see. Another day goes by, and still the children cry--put a little love in your heart. If you want the world to know we won't let hatred grow, put a litte love in your heart. Take a good look around, and if you're lookin' down put a little love in your heart. I hope when you decide, kindness will be your guide, put a little love in your heart. And the world will be a better place for you and me you just wait and see. Put a little love in your heart.
Love, love, love!

Forza! Vai! Vai! Vai!

2008-06-18T07:56:00.001-07:00

About two years ago I came to the conclusion that I am obsessed...obsessed with futbol...soccer...and all that it is. The players, the game, watching, playing, coaching. Channel 124: FoxSoccer Channel is my favorite channel. I call Cristian Ronaldo my husband. And David Beckam is all over my room. Manchester United is my favorite team. I'm skipping a week's worth of classes just to watch LA Galaxy play in California. My soccer jersey collection is doubling as I type!

Well, recently a friend of mine and his wife and I purchased ticket packages to dum dum dum New York's soccer team...the mighty and talented RedBulls! Our seats are excellent. No surprise there. Mainly because there's only about 75 of us in total in attendance. So these games are going well, but my next question is...where do these players go after the game?? Hmm...

Continuing on with all things soccer, Giants Stadium was home to a "friendly" match between USA and Argentina. It was sold out. 75, 862 in attendance. The 9th largest attendance for a home USA match. Pretty impressive. I'll skip over the part about how we circled for parking for 45 minutes and jump ahead to our incredible seats. Mmm...probably about 8 seats from the tippy top. We were in the neutral section. Filled with entertainment! Little bit of Argentina love, little bit of USA love. With about 20 minutes left to play I ran out to get a hot dog (another Gabby Deveaux obsession) and had to dodge puke pile after puke pile. Good thing I had my sneakers on...oh wait, I didn't. So while gazing at Landon Donovan (he's so dreamy) with now 10 minutes left to play, we notice people clearing out. Well at least it's not raining...oh wait...heavy...lightening...downpour. Awesome. And thank goodness I remembered to wear my white dress. Sweet. No, it was pretty incredible. The crowd got louder as the rain fell heavier. We just embraced the energy of the rain! The game ended in a 0-0 tie. Amazing experience.

Now! My soccer girls. So. Amazing. I mean, in general they're pretty awesome. We were served our first loss this season in over 14 games. We realized the team to beat...was that maroon team, or as my girls call them...the bourgandy team. We practiced in the 100* heat leading up to the game. Listen! We had a championship to win! So Championship Saturday arrived. We won our first game 3-0. Holla. Then came...the maroon team. The girls were focused. I told them to put their angry faces on. To not be intimidated and to scare the other team rather than to be scared. I don't know, but it worked. We won 3-1. All that was left ahead of us were the afternoon games, against the same team. The Maroon Team beat up against that other poor team (the red team) so the championship game came down to us and marooooooon. Ended in 0-0. Seriously? Really? Next thing I know--shoot outs! The World Cup Final of kid soccer. We were to choose 3 players each. I knew my first two girls right away and debated between one girl with more ball skill and another girl with a heavier foot. I went with the girl with more ball skill. All three of our girls missed. All three of their girls missed. At this point my heart was racing. I couldn't watch. Waaaay too much anxiety! We were told to choose one more girl. I immediately went with the girl with the heavier foot. I think I watched with one eye open. She made it! Corner left! Now, it was their turn. Our goalie went up. Their girl went to kick. Our goalie caught the ball! WHAAAAT?!?!?! We won! We f*&$ing won! I later asked our goalie how she did it. She told me, "I was focused Ms. Deveaux...I was focused. I just watched the ball the whole time." Now mid-celebrations I was occupied doing something and next thing I knew the girls were dumping the Gatorade bucket over my head. Little promise I made in September and forgot about. Perhaps, however Top 5 Most Incredible moments of my life. Yeah, we won the trophy. Which, is almost as large as some of my players. As we were celebrating we almost missed the announcement that our team also won Best Overall Sports[wo]manship of the Year. We're fierce and we're classy. Mantras to live by.

M101isms

2008-05-09T17:22:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite M101 companions and I decided that we should really keep a daily journal chronicling our experiences on the fantabulous mode of transportation that is...the M101.

Now this M101 can be both a God-send and also a curse all in one. On excellent, amazingly great days it can take me about 20-25 minutes to go from my apartment to work. On normal, usual, painful days--this trip can take about an hour and a half. I could fly to Bermuda in that time.

Besides, the M101 being an excellent opportunity to have a gripe session, it also presents for some very interesting and unique New York City experiences. Today for example, there was a lone cucumber abandoned on one of the seats. Hmm. Then there was the guy who kept opening and closing the window, stood up and sat down and said "I can't forget my purple hat!" He wasn't well. Then there was the woman who was cursing about her misbehaving children to someone else on the phone, "She'll be recogniiiiized because she's aliiiiive, but she sure as hell ain't gettin' no damn birthday party." I thought that was clever.

Usually the afternoons (and my early morning travels) sees the M101 loaded up with today's youth spittin' sunflower seeds and sharing gossip. I learn so much.

Life is fragile

2008-04-07T19:55:00.000-07:00

Reminded all too harshly about the beauty, complexity, and surprise that life is. Cherish and celebrate it each day.

My favorite poem

2008-02-25T08:20:00.000-08:00

Thought I should kick things off with a poem that always inspires and grounds me as a start to more good things to come...

Rudyard Kipling If

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breath a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!