Why is it that every time one is preparing to leave on a trip, the world collides?! This has been one crazy week.
Tuesday night I had a work dinner to attend. At 6 pm, I went out to my car (I was luckily already at home) and tried to turn it on. No go. Tried it again. No go. Lights were going on normally, the engine just wouldn't turn over. I knew it wasn't the starter--our mobile mechanic, Big John, installed a new one in your fall (Houston's endless summer). The Saturn did this once before because of corrosion on the battery cables. I ruined a perfectly good boar bristle hairbrush dusting off the battery system, and still, no go. By this point I knew the car wasn't going to start through anything I did to coerce it, so naturally, I said a prayer. Suddenly my kind French neighbor, who also loves working on cars, appeared out of thin air, and asked me to start it again, which I did. No sooner had a turned the key that he started yelling in his accent so thick you think he's still speaking French, "SMOKE!!!! FIRE!!!!!" Smoke was billowing out from under the hood of the Saturn aka the Rat, on some wires right behind the engine block. He ran upstairs to grab water from his apartment while I uselessly tried blowing out the flame (it wasn't a birthday candle; I probably made it worse; what was I thinking?!)
Jeff and I have been wanting to bag the Rat since we married. That thing is 11 years old! It''s seen me through thick and thin and got me moved to Texas in one piece, not to mention the thousands of miles my sister and her husband put on it in the six years they had it. Yes, it was time to purchasae.
We've been saving a healthy down payment, waiting for the right time, or until the Rat finally succumbed to the poison that is Saturns. In preparation we test drove a few small cars, but the one that stood out was the Ford Fiesta. It used to be in the States, then it was only in Europe the past decade or so, and Ford just brought it back this year. It is a NEAT little car. Gets excellent mileage, cool features inside (I can stream music via Bluetooth from my iPhone and of course have a hands-free system built in to the car). I am really digging it. I was surprised to see that it is a highly rated little vehicle, and even beats out the Honda Fit! I've never been into Fords, but so far, so good!
So after the car got rocked this week, Friday morning rolled around. Jeff and I got up for Crossfit at 4:25, like we always do MWF, and trekked the 15 minutes drive to CrossFitWestHouston (CFWH). Unfortunately our instructor had an alarm malfunction!! Happens to the best of us, but I was REALLY looking forward to the WOD.
Came home and turned on NPR only to hear that Sendai, Japan, where my brother Michael is serving an LDS mission, was bludgeoned by an 8.9-magnitude earthquake and a tsunami that's obliterated the entire coastal region of Sendai. It was a LOOOONNNNGGGGGG day of waiting, patiently waiting, scouring news web sites, searching for reports of how many dead, where was hit worst. We heard bits and pieces throughout the day, but it wasn't until 11:45 pm or so that an Area Authority of the LDS church in Sendai called my parents, saying he had spoken to Michael personally and knew he was well. OH MY GOODNESS!!!! I would say this is the biggest personal scare I've ever had in my life. Michael means the world to me as far as siblings go. He and I have always really understood each other, without having to say much to get there, and I would miss him so badly.
At the same time, I have a knowledge that I would see MIchael again should he have been fatally wounded in this crisis. Through the Plan of Salvation (or Plan of Happiness), I know why I am here on earth, where I go after, and what happens next. I know it because I feel this strong feeling in my heart every time I study it, or read about it in the Book of Mormon and the Bible, or read the words of the prophet Thomas S. Monson. That feeling is the Holy Spirit of God, or the Holy Ghost, confirming truth for me. It is the best feeling (see verses 22-23) in the world, not only to feel the Holy Ghost confirm truth, but also to know our Heavenly Father loves us enough to teach us these truths Himself, through the Holy Ghost.
Now that Michael is well, I'm realizing just how many people in Sendai are not so lucky. The photos are awful. I don't know how you'd even begin to clean up the mess that tsunami left. There will be much work to do.
In 5.5 hours, Jeff and I will be on a plane to Costa Rica!! I am so grateful to know MIchael is okay, BEFORE we leave.
Life is good!!! Pura vida!!
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Monday, March 07, 2011
Five more days, then I'm running away
Exactly five days from this moment, my sweet Bou Bou and I will be boarding a flight to Mexico City, then on to Costa Rica!!! I cannot wait!! I have spent the past few months poring over the Interwebs, trying to find the best places to stay and see and go. Our trip is narrowed down to places I'm sure we will love! The first half of our trip, we are staying in rural Costa Rica. I am especially excited about this portion of the trip. We live in the heart of Houston, Texas, which if you didn't know is the fourth largest city in the U.S. and the largest city in the state of Texas. Each day we battle traffic along the dreaded Westheimer Road, an eight-lane mini highway not far from our home. I believe I have mentioned it before. If not, just know it is the most stressful road I've ever driven on, and unfortunately, everything we need is off this road. Blech.
Needless to say, I wanted to forgo the resort-style vacation and head into uncharted territory. These rural locations in Costa Rica are sure to be relaxing, and beautiful!
Hanging bridges in Las Heliconas Rainforest
Rio Celeste River and Waterfall
We will see many exotic animals, like monkeys, sloths, toucans, and many bugs and birds the US will never see. But the highlight of our trip will surely be the Monteverde Extremo Canopy zipline tour. The video below is a little long; I recommend skipping to the 6-minute mark to see the "Superman" portion of the tour. Or, if you want a real treat, watch the whole thing so you can listen to the funny things the German guy who made the video says. For example: "I didn't bought a hike!" and "I can't feel my legs back! And my bones!!"
After this fun-filled first few days, we will travel down to Manuel Antonio, which is supposed to have some of the best beaches in the country. MA is also much busier than the places we will have previously stayed, so it will be interesting to be in a more tourist-driven area.
Our last day we will fly to Mexico City and tour Teotihuacan! I can't wait for that!!!
Other than these fun activities, the thing I'm most excited for is the FOOD!! Costa Rican food looks delicious. Lots of black beans and rice, meat, plantains, and plenty of fruits and vegetables. Yum!
Pura vida!
Needless to say, I wanted to forgo the resort-style vacation and head into uncharted territory. These rural locations in Costa Rica are sure to be relaxing, and beautiful!
Hanging bridges in Las Heliconas Rainforest
Rio Celeste River and Waterfall
We will see many exotic animals, like monkeys, sloths, toucans, and many bugs and birds the US will never see. But the highlight of our trip will surely be the Monteverde Extremo Canopy zipline tour. The video below is a little long; I recommend skipping to the 6-minute mark to see the "Superman" portion of the tour. Or, if you want a real treat, watch the whole thing so you can listen to the funny things the German guy who made the video says. For example: "I didn't bought a hike!" and "I can't feel my legs back! And my bones!!"
Costa Rica Monteverde Extremo Canopy 2010 HD from philipp runk on Vimeo.
After this fun-filled first few days, we will travel down to Manuel Antonio, which is supposed to have some of the best beaches in the country. MA is also much busier than the places we will have previously stayed, so it will be interesting to be in a more tourist-driven area.
Our last day we will fly to Mexico City and tour Teotihuacan! I can't wait for that!!!
Other than these fun activities, the thing I'm most excited for is the FOOD!! Costa Rican food looks delicious. Lots of black beans and rice, meat, plantains, and plenty of fruits and vegetables. Yum!
Pura vida!
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
To Brandon Davies
Whatever you've done, we don't care. Just beg for absolution and get back on the court. Link to KSL article
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
The worst night of my life.
Not really the worst night of my life, but it was the worst I can remember for a really long time.
Each year the Houston Rodeo comes to town. Ever since I was a kid, I've always glamorized rodeos, probably because I've never been to one. I'd watch the bull and bronco riding on TV, the calf roping, the clowns getting manhandled by the bulls, the riders flying off and miraculously not dying...I couldn't get enough of it. I loved barrel racing too, because it was milder, gentler, and the horses weren't mean!
I'd always surmised those broncos were a special breed of horse that was really angry all the time, and flailed about when provoked by a rider. Same with the bulls. When I got older I realized the broncos and bulls weren't bucking just because they wanted the riders off their backs. The real reason made me uncomfortable--it sounded so painful--so I stopped watching. But secretly I still love the rodeo, or the idea of it.
So this past weekend, Jeff and I ventured to the rodeo, not for an actual rodeo, but for the World BBQ Championship that kicks off the Houston Rodeo each year.
Mmmmm. Ribs.
We were so excited. All day Saturday I ate minimally in anticipation of the BBQ feast, greater than any Thanksgiving dinner, more delicious than ambrosia itself. BBQ is the best way to cook meat. I couldn't wait to binge on succulent sausages and breathtaking brisket and palate-puckering pulled pork. Oh man, I am hungry now! And I was hungry then. Ravishing even.
Our friends, Jorge and Danielle, had our tickets, so we decided we'd meet up with them once we got to the BBQ. BAD IDEA.
Traffic kept us captive for an hour. Finally we pulled in to the old Astroworld lot. "How much?" Jeff asked. "Twenty dollars," the lady said. I gasped. "Twenty dollars? What does that even go toward?" I asked. Twenty dollars to park on some grass? NUTS! Without even making eye contact, the lady said, "Oh it goes for scholarships for the kids and things like that." Psh. Scholarship my lands, keep padding your pockets Reliant Stadium. You suck.
We prodded along with the rest of the cattle, maneuvering a rocky road, over the highway, to the stadium. And then we waited. Jorge and Danielle were stuck in traffic too. We waited, and waited, and waited. The old Primary song, "Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked" kept running through my mind. Except they words for me were "waited and waited and waited and waited," etc. I was going ballistic. The people watching was prime, but the whole poseur one-night-only cowboy look lost its humor pretty quickly. As did watching all the skimpily dressed girls, many of whom would've been wise to cover up. Funny how public events give certain classes of people cause for, uh, "dressing up." Or out. You know what I mean.
We waited for over an hour. If you've ever had to be with me when I haven't eaten in a long time, I'm sorry. I get really grumpy and really mad, and I hate everything and everyone. I was in this mode when we got to Reliant. You can imagine how saintly my Jeff was that night to put up with me.
Jorge and Danielle finally got into the BBQ, unfortunately on the other side of it. They maneuvered their way over to the gate where Jeff and I were waiting. Finally, I thought. Sweet BBQ is mine!! But not so fast: Jorge said, "We are leaving." What?! "Someone stole my wallet," he said. So off they went.
Jeff and I decided to walk around and start finding some BBQ. Only, all the BBQ was inside these booths, protected by policemen. What was the deal? Our tickets online said we were getting a BBQ plate with this, so where is ours? After wandering around in a starvation-induced stupor for ten minutes, we finally asked a policeman what the deal was. "Oh, these booths are all private parties. You have to have a pass to get in." He didn't know how to get a pass, and by this point, we didn't care. EVERYONE in there was drunk. Everyone was loud, obnoxious, inebriated, I probably stepped in vomit ten times. It was awful. Trying to be positive, Jeff suggested we go to the carnival. On a normal night, I would have been all over that--I'd been admired the gigantic ferris wheel on the horizon all night--but not this night. I have never wanted to get out of a place so badly.
"What's going to make this better for you, my love," my sweet Jeff asked. There was only one place that could ever do me right at a time like this, and he knew it.
On the way to our magical place, we played the only music healing enough to soothe the weary soul and stomach at a time like this: Third Eye Blind's self-titled album. We pulled into the parking lot, blasting "Narcolepsy," competing against the volume with our own singing. Two teenagers were in the car next to us. They thought we were nuts. They have no clue about the '90s.
I ate delicious chicken and dumplings at Cracker Barrel that night, Jeff had fried shrimp and even splurged with some mac and cheese. Food has never tasted so good. A night has never turned around so quickly, or so well. I love my Jeffy.
And I hate the Houston Rodeo.
Each year the Houston Rodeo comes to town. Ever since I was a kid, I've always glamorized rodeos, probably because I've never been to one. I'd watch the bull and bronco riding on TV, the calf roping, the clowns getting manhandled by the bulls, the riders flying off and miraculously not dying...I couldn't get enough of it. I loved barrel racing too, because it was milder, gentler, and the horses weren't mean!
I'd always surmised those broncos were a special breed of horse that was really angry all the time, and flailed about when provoked by a rider. Same with the bulls. When I got older I realized the broncos and bulls weren't bucking just because they wanted the riders off their backs. The real reason made me uncomfortable--it sounded so painful--so I stopped watching. But secretly I still love the rodeo, or the idea of it.
So this past weekend, Jeff and I ventured to the rodeo, not for an actual rodeo, but for the World BBQ Championship that kicks off the Houston Rodeo each year.
Mmmmm. Ribs.
We were so excited. All day Saturday I ate minimally in anticipation of the BBQ feast, greater than any Thanksgiving dinner, more delicious than ambrosia itself. BBQ is the best way to cook meat. I couldn't wait to binge on succulent sausages and breathtaking brisket and palate-puckering pulled pork. Oh man, I am hungry now! And I was hungry then. Ravishing even.
Our friends, Jorge and Danielle, had our tickets, so we decided we'd meet up with them once we got to the BBQ. BAD IDEA.
Traffic kept us captive for an hour. Finally we pulled in to the old Astroworld lot. "How much?" Jeff asked. "Twenty dollars," the lady said. I gasped. "Twenty dollars? What does that even go toward?" I asked. Twenty dollars to park on some grass? NUTS! Without even making eye contact, the lady said, "Oh it goes for scholarships for the kids and things like that." Psh. Scholarship my lands, keep padding your pockets Reliant Stadium. You suck.
We prodded along with the rest of the cattle, maneuvering a rocky road, over the highway, to the stadium. And then we waited. Jorge and Danielle were stuck in traffic too. We waited, and waited, and waited. The old Primary song, "Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked" kept running through my mind. Except they words for me were "waited and waited and waited and waited," etc. I was going ballistic. The people watching was prime, but the whole poseur one-night-only cowboy look lost its humor pretty quickly. As did watching all the skimpily dressed girls, many of whom would've been wise to cover up. Funny how public events give certain classes of people cause for, uh, "dressing up." Or out. You know what I mean.
We waited for over an hour. If you've ever had to be with me when I haven't eaten in a long time, I'm sorry. I get really grumpy and really mad, and I hate everything and everyone. I was in this mode when we got to Reliant. You can imagine how saintly my Jeff was that night to put up with me.
Jorge and Danielle finally got into the BBQ, unfortunately on the other side of it. They maneuvered their way over to the gate where Jeff and I were waiting. Finally, I thought. Sweet BBQ is mine!! But not so fast: Jorge said, "We are leaving." What?! "Someone stole my wallet," he said. So off they went.
Jeff and I decided to walk around and start finding some BBQ. Only, all the BBQ was inside these booths, protected by policemen. What was the deal? Our tickets online said we were getting a BBQ plate with this, so where is ours? After wandering around in a starvation-induced stupor for ten minutes, we finally asked a policeman what the deal was. "Oh, these booths are all private parties. You have to have a pass to get in." He didn't know how to get a pass, and by this point, we didn't care. EVERYONE in there was drunk. Everyone was loud, obnoxious, inebriated, I probably stepped in vomit ten times. It was awful. Trying to be positive, Jeff suggested we go to the carnival. On a normal night, I would have been all over that--I'd been admired the gigantic ferris wheel on the horizon all night--but not this night. I have never wanted to get out of a place so badly.
"What's going to make this better for you, my love," my sweet Jeff asked. There was only one place that could ever do me right at a time like this, and he knew it.
On the way to our magical place, we played the only music healing enough to soothe the weary soul and stomach at a time like this: Third Eye Blind's self-titled album. We pulled into the parking lot, blasting "Narcolepsy," competing against the volume with our own singing. Two teenagers were in the car next to us. They thought we were nuts. They have no clue about the '90s.
I ate delicious chicken and dumplings at Cracker Barrel that night, Jeff had fried shrimp and even splurged with some mac and cheese. Food has never tasted so good. A night has never turned around so quickly, or so well. I love my Jeffy.
And I hate the Houston Rodeo.
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