Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Reading Wrap-Up

I started keeping (a little) better track of the books I've read this year, or at least since the last blog update.(June Reading Update) I'm just going to throw them all down with some comments. It seems I average about a book a week, plus whatever reading I have to do for school, not counting whatever trash novels (ahemNoraRobertsahemDanielleSteele) I read while flying back and forth over the pond on my international jet-setting adventures, of which there have been ahem several. This year more than any other has also been marked by books I've started but not managed to finish. Usually once I start something I see it through, but several books have been off-putting, boring, or, just not in a style that grips me, and I decided not to see them through. And I don't even feel guilty about it! (Zeitoun was one of those. I fully expected to enjoy it, or at least find it compelling, because of the Louisiana-Katrina angle, but just. Did. Not. Like.)

Between Shades of Gray, by Ruta Sepetys. This one is set in 1941 and after with a Lithuanian family's deportation to Siberia by the Soviets. If you love art, and love, and stories of human triumph, and aren't put off by the realities of labor camps and freaking cold weather, read it.

Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes. An oldie but a goody, and is really about the pulls between brains and emotion, interaction and introversion, love and acceptance. Science fiction story about a not-smart guy who is scientifically made smarter after a mouse named Algernon undergoes the same procedure. I may have cried. Fine, all right, I did cry.

Seraphina, by Rachel Hartman. LOVED IT! Music and magic and dragons!!!! C'mon, aren't you intrigued already/

Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume. Somehow I never read this one as a kid and decided I couldn't live life without that rite of passage. Turns out, I could've.

A Brief History of Montmaray, by Michelle Cooper. Meh. Pre-WWII crumbling royal family on a crumbling island, kids and teens and distant-but-doting-but-strict aunts. It was slow but had a great, if pat, ending. I think I may enjoy this more if I read it in a different frame of mind. As in, not stressed out by school and feeling pulled in a bunch of different directions.

To Marry an English Lord, by Gail MacColl and Carol McD. Wallace. This one was a pretty fascinating look into the exodus of rich American women overseas looking for titles, namely late 1800s to early 1900s, and broke lords coming to America looking for moneyed wives.  If that sounds interesting to you, go for it.

Before I Fall, and Panic, both by Lauren Oliver. In Before I Fall, a teenager relives one horrible day over and over and over. I thought it would be boring, or too much Groundhog Day for me, but the author miraculously hits another angle in each version, and gives the reader lots to think about. In Panic, teenagers in a small town play a dangerous and life-changing game for money. Hard to say more without spoiling anything. These books made me want to read everything else by Oliver (that I haven't already read.)

Sophie's Choice, by Willian Styron. I'd never seen the movie or read the book, and I rectified both those things this year. The movie was a better experience for me than the book, which I can honestly say has only happened once before (Memoirs of a Geisha, though I find many stories equally as enthralling on screen as on the page (Harry Potter)). The book is just too damn slow and meandering.

Unbearable Lightness, by Portia de Rossi. I knew this was a memoir about Portia and largely focused on her  struggles with anorexia, but that's about it. It was fascinating, appalling, and beautiful. I just want to hug her and cheer for her and stalk her on Twitter.

Looking for Alaska, by John Green. I'm a fan of the author, but this was probably my least favorite.

The Grisha Trilogy, by Leigh Berduco.  Shadow and Bone, Siege and Storm, Ruin and Rising. More magic, and special powers, and foreign lands!

The Shining, by Stephen King. Another case of never having seen the movie or read the book until recently, though of course there's so much in the pop culture lexicon that I felt I knew all about the story already. It made me remember why I used to love Stephen King so much, and also kind of why I outgrew him.

Graceling, by Kristin Cashore. (And Fire, and Bitterblue). This ranks up there with Seraphina as one of my favorite finds this second half of the year. Not a series exactly, but another trilogy. Fire was more of a companion book and then Bitterblue was kind of a sequel or epilogue even. More magic, and special powers, and foreign lands! Multiple strong and flawed heroines!

The Matched Trilogy, by Ally Condie. I read the first one a long time ago and never read the others. I'd kind of forgotten all about it when the first one fell in my lap again, and then I zoomed through the others. More distopian future YA stuff. The third book was a little predictable in its second half, but I really enjoyed the journey to getting there.

Dodger, by Terry Pratchett. I want to read more by this author! Tale of a young sewer-treasure-picker in Victorian London. He has encounters with Sweeney Todd and is mentored by Charles Dickens. Lots of literary and Victorian pop culture references. Super fun.

OITNB, My Year in a Women's Prison, by Piper Kerman. Book Piper is WAAAAYYYYY less annoying than tv Piper. So glad I read the book.

The Giver books, Lois Lowry. Never read these as a kid, glad I read them now. I didn't find them as life-changing as some people have, but the story is amazing nonetheless.

Without You, There is No Us, by Suki Kim. Writer teaches English in North Korea. Fascinating, depressing, and scary. Makes me want to read more about Korean history of the last 100 years. This book brought out all the feels. I want to help, and feel helpless, and want to learn, and am astounded at my own naivety, and cannot wrap my brain around the reality that is the situation in North Korea. How do you teach generations to think critically when they aren't allowed to be critical?

Yes Chef: A Memoir, by Marcus Samuelsson. I'm a fan of pretty much everything on The Food Network. Or at least, even if I'm not a fan, I will get sucked in and watch anything. I don't know how I found out about this memoir, but I have so much more respect for Marcus Samuelsson after reading this. He has really battled some horrible circumstances and overcome great obstacles, and you can tell he truly cares about food and cooking and some of the causes he mentions, and it all relates directly back to his own experiences.

I Don't Care About Your Band: What I Learned from Indie Rockers, Trust Funders, Pornographers, Faux-Sensitive Hipsters, Felons, and Other Guys I've Dated, by Julie Klausner. Ugh. Did not relate at all. Maybe because I'm a mature adult. And yet, I couldn't put it down. Damn. She got me.

My Drunk Kitchen, by Hannah Hart. I don't even know how to classify this, except to say that it's sweet and funny and the best non-cookbook cookbook I've ever read. Go watch her first couple of YouTube videos and see if you're not hooked.

Longbourn, by Jo Baker. (Thanks for the recommendation, Amy!) The last book I read this year, and a fun one to end on. I love all things Pride and Prejudice, including horrible fan fiction. But this isn't horrible fan fiction - it's awesome fan fiction! The P&P story unfolds from the point of view of the servants, who of course have their own lives and stories going on.

Okay, if you're reading this, let me know if you have any recommendations! (Here or on the Facebook post, either way, I'll get them.)



Monday, December 15, 2014

Insomnia Strikes Again

Every few months I tend to go through bouts of insomnia. Sometimes I have nightmares, sometimes I can't fall asleep, and sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep. Last night was one of those nights I inexplicably woke up around 0100 and stayed awake until around 0330. I think I may have been a little bit warm, explaining the wakeup, but there's no good reason I couldn't go back to sleep. Here's a list of things I did between 0100-0330:

1.   Counted sheep
2.   Counted blessings instead of sheep
3.   Got annoyed at myself for getting ^that song stuck in my head
4.   Stopped being annoyed because I actually like that song
5.   Surfed Facebook
6.   Mentally reviewed my jambalaya "recipe" (methodology, more like) so I can write it down for a friend who requested it
7.   Went through at least three revolutions of back-side-stomach-side and back trying to find a comfortable sleep position
8.   Stared at my husband, mentally willing him to wake up and snuggle me
9.   Researched plane tickets for my mom and mother-in-law to come visit
10. Updated my iPhone iOS
11. Went through a couple more revolutions of back-side-stomach-side-back
12. Played a couple rounds of Spades
13. Had conversation with Tony after he woke up to pee
14. Checked Words with Friends for new plays
15. Made a mental list of things to do today
16. Made a mental list of possible things to do on vacation
17. Mentally rearranged my mom's furniture to accommodate a grand piano (not against an outside wall, not near a fireplace)
18. Imagined all of my family at my mom's house singing carols and opening presents on Christmas Eve
19. Compiled list of people I need to call

Hm, I really wish I could round out this list with a 20th thing, but that's all I remember. I can say it was a productive couple of hours, but I'd much rather have the sleep!




Sunday, November 23, 2014

Food memories

I've heard it said that smells can trigger some of the strongest memories, and I believe that. For me, food smells are the quickest way to start a trip down memory road. The smell of a roux cooking, especially those first few seconds after you add your vegetables, is a very strong kickstarter for me. I used to love opening up the back door of our house and smelling something delicious and wondering what my mom was cooking.

A lot of our holiday celebrations growing up were with extended family, especially on my mom's side, in Baton Rouge. Our family is pretty big, and a lot of meals were potluck, but you could always count on a few traditions. Gumbo on Christmas Eve. Aunt Marie is in charge of the salad. Crawfish Bisque and Strawberry Shortcake at Easter. For a while now, my mom and her siblings have been having "lessons" from Granny on how to make the bisque, and it is truly a team endeavor. It's a lot of work to prepare the bisque, but the results are worth the effort!

Tony and I hosted "Thanksgiving" a couple years ago. I put it in parentheses because we celebrated in October before a deployment. It was a small affair, with a few friends over, and involved garlic mashed potatoes and a fried turkey. This year we will also have garlic mashed potatoes and fried turkey, but I think we will have over twenty guests! I am tremendously excited about it, but also a bit nervous because it's my first time hosting such a big shindig (aside from a wedding!) and I won't be back at home until Tuesday evening. Fortunately, we have a wonderful group of friends who a) will not judge us and b) are bringing some contributions, so I'm pretty sure most of my nerves are for naught. At least, I hope so!

Tentatively on the menu this year:
Caprese bites
Brined and fried turkey
Garlic mashed potatoes
Green beans (not casserole)
Balsamic and Thyme Carrots
Adult Mac and Cheese
Apple Cider Sangria
Pumpkin Pie

Maybes: Pumpkin Mousse; trifle; rolls or cornbread; stuffing; cranberry sauce

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Gratitude

This time of year there are a lot of posts, articles, tweets, and Facebook updates about gratitude. Some folks elect to write one thing they are thankful for each day, and I always enjoy reading those. I've never done anything like that publicly, mostly because I don't want to come across as overly sentimental (though I am) or mushy (I'm that, too), and because I don't think most people are really that interested. But then I remember that most of the people who I am friends with are my friends precisely because of their attitudes and character. Also, I don't do it because if I started I might never stop.

Still, it's a good exercise to do. Scientific studies have shown that you can improve your own mental well-being by consciously considering positive things, choosing happiness, and looking for silver linings. That, of course, is a gross oversimplification, but it definitely jives with my personal philosophy. I believe if you look for the bad things in life, you will find them, and if you look for the good things you will find those, too. So why on earth would anyone choose to spend energy on the negative? Might as well spend your time and energy focusing on the good in the world.

Tony and I often lapse into military jargon in our everyday lives. We can't help it; we've become institutionalized! Also, I find it castle amusing to say "Clear to starboard" when he is about to make a left-hand turn and I am in the passenger seat. I say "Roger" a lot, too, though it is highly likely to be followed up by the very un-militaristic "-dodger, Rubber Duckie." One good habit that we implemented very early in our relationship is the nightly debrief. Stop thinking like that, you dirty hippie. I mean the hotwash of the day's events. Whoops, there I go again, lapsing into military-speak. I mean to say, each night we ask each other "What was the best part of your day?" It's fun and interesting, often surprising, occasionally sweet, and sometimes amusing. But it's a good way for us to turn our attention to each other and practice positive reflection. And I believe we are closer because of it.

I'm grateful for so many things in this world. Big things, little things, every day things, surprising things, and things it doesn't often occur to me to be thankful for until they smack me upside the head. All I can say is that life is good. I'm sure there are things I take for granted. It's natural, after all, but I make an effort to focus on at least one thing each day, even if it's just the fact that I have a working dishwasher or roses in the front yard. And always, always, I am grateful for the people in my life; my friends and family have been there for me in so many ways. Cried with me, laughed with me, patted my back and cheered me up when I am down, sent me awful puns because they know I love them, saved me the last cookie, loan me a car/shoes/cup of sugar. Usually with impeccable timing, too.

All I can say is that I'm a lucky girl. You could say I love a charmed life, or that I am blessed. I believe both are true, and I believe I bring a lot of that on myself by choosing to surround myself with good people and look for the good in life. Happiness is not a destination; it is a choice. And the more we practice choosing it, the easier it gets.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Baby steps

I read a quote recently that has really stuck with me. Well, perhaps maybe not quite so much because not only can I not remember the exact quote, but I can't remember who wrote it. However, that hasn't stopped me from thinking about it. To paraphrase, "All you really need to do to get good at something is tolerate being bad at it for a few years."

Pithy, isn't it? The more I think about it, the more it resonates. And the more I think about it! Many of my family members are musical, so I know there's a natural inclination there. However, I've tried twice in my life to learn how to play the guitar, and have pretty much given it up. I even received a beautiful little guitar as a gift from my dad, because he knew I wanted to learn. After about six months each time, I decided guitar was not for me, and focused my energy elsewhere. Mostly, my fingers hurt and the chords confused me, since guitar tabs are not like the piano and vocal music I'm familiar with. I figured I'd rather spend the time and energy getting better at something I know and love - the piano - than learn something new. Does this mean I didn't really want to learn how to play the guitar? I know it's not too late, but...but there's always a but.

(Heh, I said but. Three times.)

A new friend of mine and a blogger I've been reading for ages have each recently talked about running. One (from what I gather) hasn't run in a while and might get back into it, and the other talks frankly about her journey from non-runner to ultra trail-runner in five years. For those of you who know me, you know I don't like running. Truly. Just ask my husband. He will tell you about the glares and snarls and snarky comments. To me, it is a miserable experience. I've never been able to find a groove, and it's never been something I've been good at, but that doesn't keep me from trying every now and then. I suppose you could say I don't have good stick-to-it-iveness. I like the IDEA of running. I've run a few 5ks and 10ks, so I know it's something I can do, and I know the more I do it the better I get. But...but there's always a but.

(Heh, I said but again.)

So here I am, at the fattest and heaviest and most out-of-shape I've ever been in my entire life. There are many reasons for this, and whenever I think about them I get somewhat overwhelmed and ashamed, and also a little justified. Some of those reasons really are lame-o excuses, and some are the realities of my life making it difficult to get into ANY sort of routine, much less one I don't particularly find enjoyable. It's not just about running, though. I haven't found any sort of exercise regimen that I love or can stick with, and I know 100% it is mind over matter. I know myself well enough to be confident that whatever I choose must be enjoyable - or have the prospect of it. That's probably why I keep trying to "be a runner." I know I could be proud of my body and the distances I push myself to cover and the pace I can maintain, and I should be proud NO MATTER WHAT those distances and paces are. But I have been in a bit of a downward spiral. The more weight I gain, the less I want to do anything. My clothes don't fit as well and aren't as flattering (I know, it's vanity, but if I can't feel good and look good in all the super-cool gear is part of the point and motivation for me), and the extra weight makes it more difficult for me to exercise. And every time I slide back, it's just another little ego slap. It's not about looks, although I'm not gonna lie, that's a part of it. It's about my physical and mental health. I've got some very well-meaning friends and acquaintances, and a terrific and loving husband who compliment me on my appearance. Which is naturally, of course, great. But when I compare myself to where I have been, and where I feel I should be, and where I know I could be, I feel bad about myself. Some days I still feel great, and others not so much.

All of this to say, I'm going to do better, try harder. Maybe a little bit harder, maybe a lot, but I am making a conscious effort not to make excuses for myself any more, and find some things to do that will both challenge me and make me happy. Not just happy-I'm-done-with-that-torturous-workout or activity, but happy to be doing it. I've got a bunch of ideas, and I am promising myself not to overdo it right out of the gate or off the blocks (pick whichever metaphor you like best), because that would likely lead to another backslide.

I'm putting this out there in the world, publicly, which of course will make it harder to ignore and screw up. Here's to positive peer pressure!

Also, maybe I should practice eating and drinking all the yummy Italian foods in moderation. That might also help. ;)

Monday, November 17, 2014

Tiny House

I'm still in a bit of a funk after being sick, but finally starting to feel like myself again! Today's post is another meme, because I am tired.

Someone's paying you to move into one of those tiny house everyone is talking about. If you can survive a whole year in that house with just the things on this list, you get a bajillion dollars. Tell us how you fill in this List Of Things You Can Take With You:

5 books
3 outfits
You have a fridge/stove/oven - but you can only take 1 counter-top appliance
1 DVD collection of a TV show (your budget doesn't allow for Netflix)
1 childhood artifact
They will give you ONE subscription to a magazine - what is it?

1) Pride and Prejudice, The Bible, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Watchers, and HP and the Deathly Hallows. If you know me even a little bit, four of these five will not surprise you. 
2) It's all about the layers and the accessories! I will definitely want comfy stretchy pants, sweaters, blazer, pashmina, sneakers, boots, sandals, and comfy tank or tshirt for layering. 
3) My countertop appliance would be a crock pot, but I seriously debated a food processor because it is more versatile. However, I use my crock pot all the time and don't even own a food processor, so that made the decision easy. 
4) I don't have a favorite tv show, so nothing in this category really jumped out at me as a must-have. With that in mind, I think I would choose The Simpsons because there are a million episodes I've never seen, and I know it'll amuse me. 
5) I don't have too many relics from my childhood. No favorite stuffed animal or anything like that. For this one, I think I would pick a deck of cards. I played a lot of cards as kids: with my brothers, with our grandparents and extended family, on the bus, and at school. And I know many different kinds of solitaire!
6) National Geographic. Hands down. 

My initial reaction is that I could do this challenge. Yes, I have a bunch of stuff, but I'm an introvert and have spent a bunch of time in tight quarters on ships. My house in Astoria was pretty small and I almost never went in the spare bedroom, so I'm pretty sure this wouldn't bother me for one year. And who knows, maybe it would convince me to pare down. 

Sunday, November 16, 2014

When to intervene

When I travel for work, I get to stay in a hotel room and have someone else take out the trash and make my bed. While I miss being able to cook, I love being excessive with the thermostat and having cable TV. On the flip side, I tend to be a light sleeper and all the strange noises can interfere with a good rest. I usually ask to be located away from the elevators, to at least cut down on the foot traffic going by my door.

This is my first time staying in this particular hotel, and so far my experience with the staff and room have been great. They have Keurigs in the room, and coffee. No tea, though. The first night here I asked about that, and the front desk people appropriated me a small assortment of tea bags from the breakfast supplies. And each day since then, at least one of them (there were three) has asked me how I'm doing every time I go through the lobby. Color me impressed. I also had tea with breakfast yesterday, and today the waiter brought me a fresh pot without me having to ask for it, within a minute or two of me being seated.

However, I did have an issue with some of the other guests. My next door neighbors, specifically. The first night, there were some loud conversations and phone calls, but as they died down at a relatively decent hour and I didn't lose any sleep, I just chalked it up to normal hotel annoyances. Last night though, I was woken up at 0130 by yelling, screaming, and torturous crying. The lady was hysterical, and both parties were cursing at each other. For a moment I thought it was a television, but it became obvious very quickly that the parties next door were having some sort of altercation. I don't know if they were drunk or what, but I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep. After nearly twenty minutes though, I had to do something for my own peace of mind and well-being. The question was what?

I didn't hear anything that sounded like hitting. No thumps or bumps or crashes to indicate shoving or falling. Just the yelling and crying. They were saying such mean things about each other, and the lady was pleading so hard that I debated police intervention. I couldn't justify such an infringement on anyone else's privacy though, since I had no indications that things were physical. Leaving my personal judgment aside (and yes, I have some pretty strong opinions on this), I thought about calling the front desk to complain about the noise. I didn't because I was a little embarrassed for myself, and slightly concerned the neighbors would hear me place the call and somehow know I was the complainer and retaliate. I know it's the staff's job to handle these kind of things, but that felt a little cowardly to me. So with my middle-of-the-night logic kicking in, I did something even more cowardly: I called the room, waited until I heard their phone ring, and quickly hung up. It went instantly quiet, and then I heard the guy say it must have been a wrong number. The lady started crying again, but as neither party was yelling any more, I fell back asleep.

About half an hour later, around 0230, I was woken by more sobbing, cursing, and yelling. I rolled over and tried to ignore it, letting my brain stay in that hazy half-asleep zone. I vaguely remember thinking I should do something, but I fell asleep again in spite of the noise.

I don't regret my action or inaction, but I have replayed the scenario in my head a few times since it happened. I don't think I did anything wrong, but I wonder if I could or should have handled it differently. I worry that someone was hurt, or could be. I wonder if I was misinterpreting or overreacting. I hope it doesn't happen again, and I hope I sleep better tonight.

What would you have done?

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Back in the saddle

My post title is figurative, not literal. Today was my first day back at work since early July, and it felt pretty good. The vast majority of the work day was spent in the Fish and Wildlife Conservation auditorium at an all-hands meeting. We heard from all of the command cadre as well as the Reserve Force Readiness Staff, and after lunch we had briefings from TRICARE and MetLife (dental) representatives. I was also able to take care of a few pending admin issues, and I got my email back up and running, too

After work I changed into civilian clothes and headed over to Vinoy Park in downtown St. Pete. for RibFest. It's an annual fundraiser that - as you can imagine - has lots of barbecue, fair foods, and live music. This year's Saturday night headliner is Lynyrd Skynyrd! I heard them nine or ten years ago in Hawaii, and I was so tired that I fell asleep standing up! I'm hoping to stay awake this time around, but I'm still recovering from my cold and adjusting to the time change, so we will see. If nothing else, it's a good chance to hang with some of my in-laws and eat yummy ribs!


Thursday, November 13, 2014

Meme

When I first encountered the word, I thought it had two syllables. Now I know better. It's late and I'm tired, so this post will be short and sweet.

The Last...

1. thing that made you laugh hysterically

I was on the phone with my husband and I said something ordinary in a silly voice, and it caught him just right and unexpectedly so that he started laughing. This made me laugh, which made him laugh even harder, and we stuck in a happy loop for a few minutes. 

2. person who made you angry

Hmm, I don't get angry often. Most recently it's been at a situation (the car, which is still at the mechanic) instead of a person. I just generally don't find anger to be a very productive emotion, and when it happens it is usually pretty short-lived for me. 

3. time you cried

The trailer for the new Stephen Hawking movie staring Eddie Redmayne. 

4. song that made you want to buy an entire album

The last complete album I bought was the Plain White T's Wonders of the Younger because of the song Rhythm of Love. There have been several songs that have made me investigate whole albums, like Megan Trainor's All About That Bass, but with options such as iTunes, Pandora, and Spotify, I just can't justify it. 

5. piece of visual art that made you wish you had the resources to buy actual art.

Tony and I have been on the lookout for a vineyard landscape to hang in the master bedroom. So far, we haven't found the perfect fit, but there is a vendor who comes through the Exchange on post fairly regularly who sells some great paintings. Some of them have poppy fields or rows of grape vines, and are painted on windows or old wood, and they're really neat. I also really like the glass demijohns with iron stands, and which have been fitted out to hold candles. 

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Travel dreams

I've made it this far in November without blog prompts, but Miss Zoot sent me one that I can't resist. In a nutshell, she asks, if money and work were no obstacle, what is your dream one-week vacation? One month? One year?

If I could go anywhere for a week, it would be a Greek/Mediterranean cruise. I visited Greece a few years ago, and always said I wanted to go back, and the right way to do it would be a cruise. I visited a couple islands, but there are so many! The two I visited were really very beautiful, and each has its own flair and flavor. I know I would get some amazing views from the water, and I love that cruises are all-inclusive and offer various kinds of activities. I think any longer than a week or two would be too much time on a boat. Been there, done that.

If I could take a month-long vacation, it would be exploring some of the state and national parks out West. I drive right by Arches earlier this year and was so sad I didn't have time to stop. I think it would be fantastic to go hiking in Colorado and Utah in particular, and I bet there are a bunch of great bicycle trails as well. I've always wanted to go white-water rafting, too. A month would be plenty of time to visit several different places and make a great road trip, without feeling pressured to have too much of an agenda.

I've thought long and hard about where I would go and what I would do with a year. I always said my dream trip is Australia and New Zealand, with lots of hiking and scuba diving, but a year seems an awfully long time for something like that. My number two is currently Iceland, but again, I don't know about an entire year. I honestly look at my life right now and think this is pretty darn close to perfect. I love being able to explore Europe and Italy in particular at our leisure. There are so many opportunities readily accessible! So my answer to this question would be a European tour, spending three or four days in as many cities and countries as possible, soaking up the food and drinks, art, theater, architecture, languages, music, scenery, and adventures as possible. I could ski in the winter and raft in the summer. Bicycle scenic paths and hike beautiful trails. Visit the Louvre and the concentration camps, soak in the museums, and sip wine or beer in sidewalk cafes. I could see a show on the West End and take a train under the English Channel. Listen to bagpipes in Scotland and watch the bulls run in Spain. I want to do it all.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Jetsetter

This was one of the smoothest travel experiences I've ever had, and if I wasn't still recovering from a cold I'd say it was darn near perfect.

I don't recall the first time I ever flew, because I was just a baby. Apparently we went to visit my dad's family in New York. The next time I flew was also to New York, as a kid or young teenager. I don't remember how old I was, just that my brother and I saved up money for a long time to help buy the ticket. Singular. The ticket was reserved under the name of A. Cherry. He flew up solo, and later that summer my grandparents drove me up. They spent a few days there, drove my brother home, and I flew home pretending to be Anne. I remember that trip home pretty clearly, as I nearly got stuck on a layover in Memphis. Our plane couldn't land right away due to weather, and we circled for a long time. Finally, we diverted to Nashville to refuel, and of course we couldn't deplane. We went back to Memphis and of course everyone missed their connections. I stood in line with everyone else (no preferential treatment for minors!) and by the time I got to talk to a ticketing agent I had missed the last flight to Baton Rouge. When the lady told me they would pay for my hotel room and book me for a morning flight, I nearly had a meltdown. I asked them to check other Louisiana airports, and she got me a flight to New Orleans that was already boarding. This being the days before cell phones were widely in use, I begged her to call home for me and update my parents on the situation. Apparently she did, because they were there waiting for me on the receiving end, where of course I had no luggage. It made one of the earlier flights to Baton Rouge and beat me home!

I also remember being positively entranced by the clouds. I even wrote a poem about seeing them from above, and being in them. Somehow I expected them to seem more solid. I'm sure the poem was awful, but the feeling never left me.

After I moved to college, I became a much more frequent flyer. I still do quite a bit, especially since I am now an extreme long-distance commuter. I've had all sorts of crazy experiences - both good and bad - and it has gotten easier over time. I still get restless and anxious before I fly, but no longer panic in planes and rarely have motion sickness (I just have to stay hydrated.)

We had some wonderful views of the Alps today, and from my side of the aircraft I even got a brief glimpse of Paris. The clouds were pretty incredible, which is what caused me to remember that poem from so many years ago. We banked once on the approach to Philadelphia and I had a bizarre sensation that we were going to crash into the clouds as if they were snow. Then I started thinking about how barren and lonely it must be on the South Polen. Then I told my weird brain to shut up. :)

Today, flying on the tail end of a cold, I had no problems with the takeoffs but struggled mightily with pressure changes during both descents. Coming into Tampa, especially, was painful. I don't know if it was because my medicine had worn off, I was really tired, or what, but the descent seemed a lot longer than normal. I am happy to be back on the ground, for a host of reasons, and hope to be fully recovered by the time I fly home!

Monday, November 10, 2014

I'm always anxious before flying

Technically, it is after midnight where I live so I am late on this, but since I haven't gone to bed yet, I'm going to count this post as Monday's entry. It's still Monday in the States, so this shouldn't even be much of a stretch. Right?

Today was full of some ups and downs. I had a follow-up meeting at the Red Cross building for some public affairs issues, but those sneaky folks surprised me with a nice recognition for my volunteer work with the Armed Forces Network. One of my friends even made brownies and homemade caramel! You know what they say: the way to a person's heart is through her stomach.

After that I ran a couple of boring errands and caught the bus home. I had a nice - though stilted - conversation with an older gentleman on the bus. He clearly wasn't a frequent rider, at least of that route, because he kept asking the driver when we would get to our town. (I live four miles from the Army base, and have to pass through at least three towns before mine.) He ascertained that my French is just as bad (or good) as my Italian, and bid me adieu and good wishes in French before he exited the bus. Talking to strangers on buses in America is generally frowned upon, but here I think it makes me brave. And I learn something every time I try to converse with a local, so the effort is worth it.

I came home and had another nap, as I'm still not quite over my cold, and then started packing. Since my uniforms are at my father-in-law's house, I was able to pack relatively light. Just a laptop bag and backpack, which isn't bad considering I have three ginormous textbooks to haul back and forth, and I fit a sweater and rain jacket and three pairs of shoes in there. After I got my packing mostly done, I started cleaning up around the house, and got a notification about the car. I know this is the second time saying it, but that is another post entirely. Once the issue is resolved to my satisfaction, I will certainly blog about it, but for now it is still a work in progress. I spent three or four hours working on that this afternoon, and managed to sweep the whole house, clean the bathroom, and scrub the kitchen counters. Oh and I finished all the dishes (lots of random tea cups and water glasses scattered throughout the house which I'm choosing to blame on my cold) and washed all the bathmats, too.

All in all, not a very exciting day, but it felt like a productive one. Tomorrow is a travel day, and I'm excited to get back to Florida!

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Sunday Brunch

I know, I know, I'm talking about food. Again. What can I say? I live in Italy, and the food is generally amazing. I hadn't seen my friend Fernanda in a few weeks and I asked her if she wanted to get together this weekend for lunch or dinner. Instead, she suggested brunch at Villa Delle Rose, a place she's mentioned a few times before and suspected I would like. One of our other friends is also flying solo, so the three of us carpooled from base.

We pulled up to the cutest old farmhouse! This place epitomized shabby chic with a romantic kind of vibe. I'm talking farm tables painted white, bird cages and flowers, mirrors and ribbons. It was adorable, and perfect for a girls' get-together. Note: if you come visit me, and you are even remotely a brunch person, we are going to have Sunday brunch at this place!

Villa Delle Rose
They offer a fixed price menu, twenty euro buffet with drinks included. We had five different types of freshly squeezed juices to choose from to mix mimosas with. The orange juice was of course delightful but the peach-apricot was amazing! I cannot even begin to list all of the different kinds of foods available; it was like a tapas bar for the brunch crowd. Multiple kinds of pastries and quiches, stuffed tomatoes, stuffed zucchinis, cheese and meats, breads, olives, sandwiches, quinoa, salads, soups, veggies, tortes (including the famous Sacher torte and of course torta de la nonna), and a crepe station. Suffice to say, I stuffed my face and was quite pleased. And the best part of all, I got to catch up with new friends. I'm really starting to feel at home here, and steadily adding new places to my collection of favorites.

Check it out: http://www.villadellerosevicenza.com






Saturday, November 8, 2014

Skydiving

I found a shoebox full of old photos the other day, most of which had never been converted to a digital format. It's been fun looking through them and reminiscing. I especially loved finding evidence of my first skydiving adventure, in Hawaii. (I've since been skydiving in California and Puerto Rico.)

A group of Coast Guard friends went with us to the North Shore of Oahu to a small airport there. My classmate Jay and I were the only two who actually wanted to jump, but the others figured they would like to be in the audience. I'm not sure at what point I discovered I'd locked my keys in the car, but that was a stressful discovery. Luckily, a couple of those friends volunteered to drive 45 minutes one way to get my spare set. It might have even been further than that, because 45 minutes is if my keys were at home; they may have been on the ship. The friends who made that trek for me may not have witnessed the actual jump; I don't know.

I remember being very calm and collected through the safety brief. My instructor went over the gear and maneuvers with me, and made sure I had a good understanding of the process, particularly exiting the aircraft and approaching the landing. I had no problems getting into the plane or hooking up to the instructor, though I anticipated some nerves as it got closer to time to jump, especially since we were supposed to go first. Surprisingly, I wasn't anxious at all! I remember feeling exhilarated during the entire plane ride, happily observing the view; we could see pretty much the entire island. And when it was time to approach the door and jump, I was ready!

Without hesitation, we jumped. It was loud, cold, and disorienting. I'm not sure how long we were in a freefall, but we jumped from about 12,000 feet I think and didn't pull until around 5,000 feet (if memory serves) so it was a few seconds. I wasn't too crazy about that part. I remember the wind buffeting my face and the pictures turned out pretty funny. I laughed and smiled most of the way down.

What I really loved was drifting toward the earth after the parachute opened - which I got to pull, by the way. My instructor even let me pull the cords to turn the chute. I could see the ocean, and even some sharks in the water, and I spotted my car parked at the airport. ("There's my car!" "No way, you cannot possibly distinguish your car from this height." "It's the yellow one." "Oh.") We could see the mountains and highways, as well as fields and streams. It was truly beautiful, and I was only sorry the ride was so short.

Our landing was smooth, and we high-fived all around. It was only about ten minutes after we hit the ground that I started to get the shakes from all the adrenaline coursing through me. I loved the experience, but didn't think I'd ever really want to pay so much money to do it again. But I had the opportunity to jump with two other people who'd never been before, and so I splurged on those occasions, though this first jump was the only time I ever paid extra for photos. I even bought gift certificates to go with one of my brothers when he visited me in California, but the weather was not cooperative. Who knows, maybe I'll get up there again one day. I'm sure I'll enjoy the ride!






Friday, November 7, 2014

Under the Weather

Wednesday afternoon I said to Tony, "I've got a little tickle in my throat. I sure hope it doesn't turn into anything."

Thursday at 0200 I woke up with my throat on fire, my face heavy, and my ears plugged. I had a very difficult time going back to sleep, and took some acetaminophen and started gargling saltwater. Once I woke up, I kept that up and added some Aprodine and tea to the mix. I would have used Zycam too, but the bottle was past date and it smelled a little funny, so I tossed it.

It has been raining all week, and I've spent a goodly bit of time walking around in it, since the car is STILL at the mechanic. I'm blaming a good old common cold for these symptoms, and not allergies or my flu vaccination. Time is probably the best way to feel better in this case, but thanks to my Facebook friends, I have a whole host of suggestions of things to try and help with both the nasal drip and the throat pain:

1) Tea - with varying suggestions for adding local honey, lemon, ginger, cinnamon, apple cider vinegar
2) Vick's VapoRub and tissues, especially VapoRub on feet with socks
3) Eucalyptus Oil
4) Tomato Tea - basically a virgin Bloody Mary with lots of lemon, garlic, and cayenne
5) Whiskey or bourbon, with or without tea
6) Wine, in lieu of Nyquil
7) Nyquil
8) Crackers - either Saltines or Triscuits
9) Hydrogen Peroxide Gargle followed by regular mouth wash gargle
10) Sleep
11) Water for hydration
12) Neti pot - distilled water only, of course
13) Cough Drops
14) Marshmallows
15) Chloraseptic Throat Lozenge
16) Bone broth, with ginger and peppers
17) Avoid dairy
18) Mucinex

I have to say, I feel very well loved, even from a distance. I have some wonderful friends and family, and got some interesting new suggestions to try. I'm only surprised no one suggested chocolate! Chocolate makes everything better, right?

I canceled an appointment today and stayed home. I mostly slept today, with a little time spent on household chores and homework. I also read some just for fun, but now it is time to go back to bed. Here's to a happier, healthier tomorrow!



Thursday, November 6, 2014

Cooking with Lucas

Two days in a row I'm blogging about food. I'm not sure what that says about me, other than I'm eating really well these days. Today I went to a cooking class in downtown Vicenza with a group of friends. This was the second class I took with Chef Lucas (www.cookingwithlucas.com) and some of the same friends, and I was very much looking forward to this pumpkin-based class. As it turns out I was slightly misled because we cooked with squash, but I don't mind in the slightest. Lucas started the squash in the oven before we arrived, so it was nearly finished by the time we got there.

We started off with Lucas' own pumpkin cappuccino recipe. Not to be confused with  Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte, which contains no actual gourds. He took 3-4 tablespoons of roasted squash and put it in a blender with a couple cups of scalded milk and 6 servings of espresso, along with some cinnamon, nutmeg, pumpkin pie spice, turmeric, and disarrono. Delicious!

Next we prepped the lasagna, and sipped some Prosecco. Instead of making our own pasta, we used prepackaged kind, half sheets designed to fit perfectly into Italian pans, which are slightly smaller than American 9x12 cake pans. Or lasagna pans, for that matter. We started off with a classic bechamel sauce - don't forget the nutmeg. Then we did a whole lot of dicing: raw butternut squash, onions, and sorpresa salami, all of which was sauteed to be the main filling of the lasagna. When it cooled off a bit, we added radicchio. All of this was layered over the noodles, along with walnuts, smoked provolone, and a sprinkling of black/white/pink peppercorn. The top layer was the filling mixed with the rest of the bechamel, and topped with some more parmaggiano cheese. All of this went into the oven for 25-30 minutes at 350 degrees.

We made fresh pasta for ravioli, using half semola and half farina. We did four eggs worth; two plain, one dill, and one paprika. Then we rolled out the pasta and kind of decorated the plain with designs made of the other two types. It's hard to explain, but they came out very pretty! The picture to the left is after the plain has been rolled out and decorated, but before it's been rolled again to incorporate the other two flavors of dough. Into this we spooned  roasted squash which had been mixed with more cheese and these particular Italian amaretto cookies. Apparently Italians only use those cookies for cooking, but Lucas told us Americans like to eat them. I didn't taste them, but our friend James did, and he liked them. They were quarter-sized and in my brain they are kind of biscotti-like. Anyway. We made the raviolis both nonna-style and German-style. This means we made some with knives and forks for crimping, and some with a fancy German-made roller/cutter. As Lucas put it, while nonna makes one, the Germans very efficiently make ten.


Lucas had us taste a chianti while we were making the raviolis, one he'd never bought before. Chianti is not generally something I like, but this one was pretty light. In general, the group gave it a thumbs-up.


For dinner, we ate the ravioli as our first course, with a butter-sage sauce (so simple! just melt butter and crisp up some fresh sage in it) with balsamic vinegar swirled on the plate underneath and of course topped off with some more cheese. The lasagna was our second course, and while I enjoyed it, it was so heavy I couldn't finish it. The radicchio cooked down and wasn't bitter at all, and the walnuts soaked up a bit of the bechamel sauce but retained some nice texture. I think if I cooked this at home I believe I would leave out the salami, as it overpowered the squash a bit. Lucas recommended some alternatives, including prosciutto, bacon, ham, and mushrooms.

I will definitely be trying these dishes at home, probably the cappuccino first. I think I could manage them from memory, but Lucas very helpfully posts recipes on his website. I'm sure I will provide an update when I fly solo on these!

Helena, if you are reading this, go update your own blog! :)

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Volunteering and Mac 'n Cheese

I've been volunteering with the American Red Cross for the last six months. At first I just jumped in to help with special events as they came up, like the April children's Bicycle Rodeo. I helped set up tents and then I manned one of the obstacle course stations. We had the oh-so-tricky weaving obstacle. Lest you think that's something just anyone could do, let me assure you, it took brains and skill to set the orange cones precisely the right distance apart from each other. And that distance depended on not only the age, but the skill level of the participating kid.

Lately I've been working with the Publicity Chair to get the Red Cross message out to the community. Mostly that means I am the liaison to the Armed Forces Network radio station, but sometimes I do the in-briefs for newly arrived personnel. I've recorded a few commercials about classes the Red Cross provides to local servicemembers and their families, and one about the importance of volunteering. My favorite part of this gig though, is my weekly live radio spot. It's nothing big, but it's a lot of fun. Every other Tuesday at 0900 I go in and get to be part of the morning show. So far I've worked with three different djs and I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of it. The first two djs I worked with were just subbing, and all three of them have different styles. The regular lady and I do a longer conversational interview, whereas the first two djs had me do several shorter spots where I mostly did the talking. My goal is to get through an entire interview without being stumped by a question! So far I've talked about CPR, Wilderness and Remote First Aid, and Baby-sitting classes along with Emergency Preparedness month, the Red Cross Club at the high school, and the Veterans History Project. It's a good way for me to stay plugged into what's going on. And also to hear the sound of my own voice...

I had a short meeting today at the Red Cross office to talk things going on this month. Both myself and the Publicity Chair will be traveling, so we are making a plan to have others cover the radio spots for us. I wrote up a few blurbs, talking points, and questions for her. I think she's going to take the first spot, and we'll ask one of the teens from the Red Cross Club to take the second spot. Anyway, while we were there, a few of us started talking about dinner plans and of course the recent Halloween chili cook-off. Someone mentioned macaroni and cheese, and I got that idea stuck in my head. So after the meeting, I went to the commissary and got some cheese and shells and came home and made mac 'n cheese for dinner! It came out delicious.

While the shells (half of a one-pound box)
were boiling to al dente, I melted about four tablespoons of butter, into which I whisked 3T of flour and 1T of ground mustard. Oh and 3 cloves of garlic, too. Because garlic makes everything taste better. Then I added about 3 cups of milk, some paprika, some cayenne pepper, and salt and pepper. Then I tempered an egg and added it, along with about 8oz of grated extra sharp cheddar and another 4-6 oz of pepper jack. (I'm not sure exactly how much. About half of a 1lb block of the cheddar and a little more than half of an 8oz block of pepper jack. But I saved a little bit from the sauce to put directly on top.) I strained the shells and threw them in a casserole dish with my sauce, and stirred it up. I topped with the rest of the grated cheese and somewhere between a half a cup and a cup of panko bread crumbs. Then I popped it in the oven at 375 for 30 minutes. Did I say how delicious it was? I would definitely do this again!

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Haunted Islands of the Venetian Lagoon

We recently took advantage of another of the Army's ODR trips and got to visit a couple more of the islands in Venice. The excursion was advertised as a Haunted Islands tour in honor of Halloween, and we visited Poveglia, Malamocco, and Lazzaretto Vecchio, which I'm pretty sure translates to "old hospital." All in all, it was about an eleven-hour day, nearly half of which was spent on the water.

Cristina's bragosso
The day started on post at 0800, and we left in a 20-passenger van. I think there were 16 of of us, including our tour guide Lisa and the van driver Todd. Unfortunately for us, the Venice Marathon was also being held that day, and we encountered significant traffic on our way into the city. What would normally be an hour drive was doubled, and even after we stopped to get the ZTL parking permit, we had to double back on the route and added even more time. There was some confusion on parking and our departure point, so that added another delay. Finally we loaded our bragossos - traditional fishing boats - and were on our way. We opted to ride with Paolo in a boat that rode lower in the water but had benches with seat backs. The other boat, skippered by Cristina, had higher seating for better views, but the benches were backless. Both of us have on- and off-again back pains, and Tony recently sustained another back injury, so that's the main reason we went with Paolo. It was nice being a little lower though, because it meant we were out of the wind on a very cold day. I brought a hat, gloves, and scarf, and was very glad to have all of those accessories as the day wore on.

I'd say the outing should have been called a Venetian Lagoon Excursion or Tour instead of a Haunted Islands tour, to properly manage expectations, but we still had a fun and interesting day. We did a drive-by of several islands and got some brief history lessons. We saw monasteries and convents, hotels, armories, and retaining walls. We got a great view of some fishing nets in the water catching gambretti (shrimp) and small fish, as well as nets drying on land. We also saw some traditional Venetian rowing boats - they're not all called gondolas! - and a sailboat with two very proprietary dogs on board. 


Poveglia Bell Tower
Our first real stop was at Poveglia, which is abandoned and condemned. We started on one side of the island and got a nice view of the bell tower, which is one of the few remaining structures on that part of the island, as the church burned down some time ago. Then we ventured to the more exposed, ocean side of the island, and drifted by a canal entrance while our boat captains provided us with snacks and spritzes. We could see several other boats nearby, some drifting and some anchored, and a few people (apparently) illegally sneaking onto the island. And down the canal, we could see a film crew! It turns out they were filming for an organization called Poveglia Per Tutti, which means Poveglia for Everyone, and their mission is to keep Poveglia from becoming privately owned. When they learned we were American, we got quite the lecture from them. You see, the island had been used as a quarantine stop for plague victims, and it has the rumor of being haunted. The organization claims this haunting rumor is a vicious lie spawned by the American television show Ghost Adventures, unsupported by scientific evidence and completely lacking in credibility. Duly chastened, we took a drive through the canal for a closer look at some of the other buildings, and then proceeded to the next stop.

Poveglia Buildings, Bell Tower, and Canal
We disembarked on Malamocco, which is a fishing town/island. It's pretty tiny, and our lunch options were fairly limited. We took a short stroll through the waterfront and town center areas, and settled on a little trattoria/pizzeria for lunch. Despite an extensive pizza menu, they only had three types available, none of which suited my fancy, so I got an assortment of little appetizers which mostly consisted of fried stuff. I had some sort of beer battered fried cheese, which was delicious and would have been even better piping hot, but since it was the size of a Pop Tart I couldn't finish it. I also got grilled polenta with prosciutto on it, which was too salty for my taste and reminded me of Play-Doh. (Yes, I've tasted Play-Doh. No, I'm not proud of it.) My favorite was the battered meatball, which I'm guessing was veal. Tony got an angus burger and beer; the burger was okay and he went back and got another beer to go because it was so good. It wasn't an Italian beer, but German or Belgian. His rule of thumb: if it has a monk or a gnome on it, it's going to be good. 
Enjoying the sun on Malamocco

Lazzaretto Vecchio buildings
Vines on a chimney
After lunch, we got back in the boats and headed to our second-to-last stop, Lazzaretto Vecchio. I think we all agreed this was the highlight of the trip. It was an old hospital consisting of several different buildings, basically, that have also been used as a hotel, but is now empty. An archaeological club is in the process of renovating and restoring some of the buildings, and it was neat to see the progress and compare the buildings. Before we stepped foot on the island though, our guides made sure the "haunted dogs" were out of the way. There are two black lab mixes that live on the island, to discourage unwanted guests, and Lisa is quite afraid of them. Cristina cares for the dogs and drops off food for them every day, and they seemed far more likely to lick us to death than do any damage, but still, they were separated from us for the duration of our exploration. The buildings, like most of Venice, were brick, and there were lots of vines and thorny things growing. Parts of the property reminded me of The Secret Garden, and we even climbed to one spot right over a boundary wall on top of the water for an excellent view. We learned that several thousand bodies have been discovered on the island, and researchers assume there are more, as at one point during the plague people were dying at a rate of 500 per day. There were individual and mass graves, but we didn't see any of that. Still, it was kind of eerie walking around knowing how many people walked before us, and never left the island.

Partially restored interior on Lazzaretto Vecchio

Shipbuilding company in Venice

We got back in the boats and started heading back, to the van we thought, but we got one last surprise stop on Venice proper. This, because Lisa assured us we had been good all day. Bonus time! We got a view of some very old shipyards and a WWI era submarine, as well as one of the oldest ship construction companies in Venice. It's still in business today, and still crafts wooden boats. We also rode under some bridges, and passed a leaning tower. We pulled up to two churches, which I'd taken photos of before, and learned they are from the 1400s and 1500s. At this point my phone battery died, which didn't really surprise me since I'd been using it all day after my camera battery died, and I had to delete a bunch of pictures more than once to keep taking pictures, due to stupid iCloud updates. I think I only took one more picture, which was of a very nice sunset. But anyway, in the plaza was a little market, very typical of Italy. We didn't do a lot of exploring though, just headed right toward one of the tourist-trap cafes and ordered cappuccino and hot chocolate. Nine euros! Highway robbery! Finally, we headed back to the van and rode back to base. I'd encourage others to do this trip, if for nothing else but a great boat ride and guided tour.

Leaning Tower of Venice!

Monday, November 3, 2014

Drill Down

Back at my good old alma mater CGA, cadets participated in a few different military-specific events and carried out some activities designed to hone our military precision. Or poise. Or something. Point being, the Coast Guard Academy is indeed a military service academy and we cadets were expected to behave accordingly. We had room and wing inspections once a month, marched to classes, attended formations, and conducted military parades pretty much every Friday. When you're a freshman, or fourth class (4/c) cadet, you also participate in Drill Down.

You know the drill teams who spin their rifles and stuff? Well, we did something like that. Every Friday morning we marched in formation with our companies and our weapons ("Sir, my piece is a U.S. rifle, M1, gas-operated, clip-fed, air-cooled, semi-automatic shoulder weapon!") and every Friday afternoon we showed off those skills to visitors on the parade field. Drill down was something a little more special and intense though. Each company sends two cadets to the competition. My memory is a little vague, because it has been fourteen years since I was a 4/c, but you dress up in a parade uniform and get inspected, along with fifteen of your peers.  Then a more senior cadet goes down the line and takes the rifle from each freshman, and spins it and opens and closes the bolt and throws indoctrination questions at the freshman. The 4/c, while at the position of attention, has to sound off while answering those questions, which could be anything from the chain of command to the movies playing at the local theater, while paying attention to the rifle. When the senior offers the rifle back, it must be right-side up and with the bolt the way it was when the 4/c handed it over. (I forget if that is open or closed). If the 4/c accepts the rifle back in anything but the perfect condition, they are docked points. They are given points for uniform and military appearance, and their ability to answer all the questions correctly. In the next round you practice all the various rifle and facing movements. After the third round, there are only a few cadets left, and the points are tallied. Winners are announced and they get special privleges as well as bragging rights for their company. (Here's a recent post someone else wrote about her experience: http://www.uscga.edu/blog.aspx?id=5791)

 I think I only participated in drill down once or twice, but I really enjoyed it. It was stressful, but definitely one of those traditions that I look back on fondly. I was really good with the indoctrination, but only average at the rifle skills. I made it past the first round of competition, but I never placed. Here are a few pictures of Baby Cadet Cherry, circa 2000 or 2001.

*I edited these stupid things to make them right-side-up, and after I uploaded them the first time they were still sideways. So then I went into my Picasa album and edited them there, and uploaded them again. They're still a little wonky, but I give up. You can go look at them on my Facebook page if you're super curious.*






Sunday, November 2, 2014

Oktoberfest 2014

We took a little field trip to Munich at the end of September to participate in Oktoberfest. Tony really wanted to go, and I'm always up for a new experience, so we jumped on one of the Army ODR (Outdoor Recreation) bus tours. Since the bus left at 0300 and was scheduled to return at 0200 the next day, we waffled on whether it was the best way to go. Ultimately, we decided it was worth it for several reasons. We didn't have to worry about drinking and driving, or finding lodging in an area where hotel prices were jacked sky-high. We also didn't have to worry about paying tolls or dealing with big city traffic, or one of us being tired after a long day and getting behind the wheel. And we figured we could always go check it out and do it on our own next year if it went well. I tell you what: best decision ever!

Proof of me having a beer, and enjoying it!

It's normally a five- to six-hour drive to Munich from our part of Italy. I don't know that for certain, since I've never done it, but Tony has and he concurred with Ye Olde Google Maps. The buses obviously go slower, especially through the mountains, and we also knew there was a scheduled pit stop just over the Austrian border, so the plan was to arrive sometime around 1100. When we rolled up to the meeting point, Tony noticed one of the bus drivers was one with whom he was familiar. And guess what: that guy drives like a demon! Even with our pit stop, and a slightly delayed departure, we still got to Munich by nine a.m.! So we were on site at Oktoberfest and drinking beer by 0930.

Beer Tent
Now, if you know me, you know I'm not a huge beer fan. I have a short list of beers I will drink when the social situation calls for it, and an even shorter list of beers I actually like. But I wanted to go to check it out anyway, and one cannot do Oktoberfest without drinking beer! I had a couple radlers, but you should know that at Oktoberfest, you can only order beer by the liter. Whoa nelly. Even when you ask for one liter and two mugs, you are usually declined, though we were able to successfully cadge a waiter once. The first radler I had was with a light beer, and the second was with a dark beer, and I was pleasantly surprised to learn I liked the dark radler a lot! Normally I tend to skew toward wheat beers and summer ales and the like. Anyway, when we first arrived, we took a quick stroll down the main midway, and then ducked into one of the tents. When I say tents, you should know these are full-scale structures with floors and roofs and which seat thousands of people at a time. They are monstrous! Even at 0900, the tents were already pretty full, and pretty rowdy. People were singing and cheering and dancing on the tables, but it was kind of wholesome. We snagged a table at the next tent and settled in for a while. I ate the BEST PRETZEL of my life, too. Cheesy and chewy but somehow also fluffy. Mmm, yummy. I would drive all the way back there if I could be assured of another pretzel like that.

If I go back, I will ride this ride!
I was surprised how family-friendly the entire shebang was. There were several roller coasters and ferris wheels, and swings and rides and all those fun fair games with the milk cans and basketball goals and goldfish bowls. I was very glad we arrived early in the day, when it was bright and clean and less crowded. We decided to catch a cab to downtown Munich for lunch, and went to the original Haufbrau house! I ordered meatloaf, which was basically spam, and I was terribly disappointed with it. But that's where I had the dark radler that I loved so much, so it was worth it. There was live music, and lively cheering, and we even learned some of the songs. The seating is communal, with really long tables stretched down the middle of the room. Well, I should say that's what the seating was like on the third floor, where we wound up. The first floor had more traditional smaller tables and I have no idea what the second floor looked like, just that there was live music on EACH floor. Our neighbors were kind enough to teach us the words to some of the songs, and they also told us the middle weekend of Oktoberfest has morphed into the traditional weekend for Italians to pilgrimage to Germany for the festivities.


After lunch, we caught another cab back to the main grounds, and wandered around for a while more. We thought about going on some of the rides, but the prices were high at the first roller coaster, and then someone had to pee, and then the lines were long, and then we decided to meet up with another group of Army folks. By that time of day, the tents were all closed to newcomers, and you could only go in if someone else came out. And that is not really the way of the tents! The general idea is to go park yourself and sit there all day and drink, if drinking is what you want to do. Luckily, our buddy came to talk to the bouncer to let us in. The bouncer wouldn't do it, of course, because the tent was already at capacity. BUT, our buddy got his waiter to go talk to the bouncer and assure him that there was room at their table for us, and we got to bypass the line and go in! I felt like such a rock star. So we parked there for a while and just had fun drinking and people-watching. More singing and cheering and table-dancing. I thought only tourists would be wearing lederhosen and dirndls, but I was very wrong about that. Many, many, many locals were wearing them, and of course lots of tourists were, too. One of the families we sat next to at our second tent was from Munich, and all four of them were dressed up, even the baby. The parents said they came mainly for the kids, because it was a fun event for them and something they should grow up remembering. I was really impressed, and Tony was even tempted to buy a set for himself. I think if we had more time there, we would have done some shopping for things like that.

Love this man, this kiss, this pic, and the photobomb!
By four o'clock, we were pretty tired of drinking and walking around, and found a spot on the hill to do some more people watching. We sat on some steps at the foot of a ginormous statue, and just chatted and visited for a while. Our departure meeting wasn't until 7pm! I imagine if we'd arrived at eleven the way we were planning to, the timeline would have been just fine. But it was a long day. I really don't know how people stay there all hours of the day and night. And by that late in the afternoon, there were lots of drunk people, too. We saw several people being wheeled around on gurneys, and lots of people drunkenly weaving and being supported by their friends. I also think if we'd stayed much longer, the place would have lost a lot of the family-friendly vibe. It was nice to watch the sun go down and all the midway lights come on, though. My biggest complaint about the day was actually leaving. There was some mix-up with the buses, and we ended up walking to two different locations to meet them, and then waiting about an hour. Otherwise, all went well. We made it back to the base right before two, very satisfied with the whole outing. I mostly feel like now I've done it, I don't need to do it again, but if Tony wanted to go next year I wouldn't really mind. Good times were had by all.


The bromance continues...
The boys enjoying a brewski before it got too crazy.