Life with Monkeys

The (Latest) Object of my Desire

After the many upheavals and challenges of my previous year, I have caught my breath, looked around and discovered that, though I live in the loveliest place ever, my living room looks tired. Rather like me, but that's a different post for a different day. Luckily my mister agrees (about the room, not about me looking tired, thank goodness!) and we set out to remedy the situation. Since our living room is decidedly small, small changes are all that are needed; the re-covering of a chair and bench and the purchase of a table lamp. It may sound silly but all of this began when I fell in love with a lamp. Yes, love. I rarely use the word love where an inanimate object is involved but there it is. And why do I love this lamp?  It has some of my favorite elements. Things that soothe and excite my senses. In the first place, the color is my favorite color ever, orange. Secondly, the lamp is made of glass and I love ANYTHING made of glass., so smooth and shiny. And practically speaking, it is perfect. It will accommodate one 150 watt bulb and has a dimmer on it. And it's orange. I know a wonderful young decorator who will order it for me. If you are in SoCal and need a decorator, David Galindo is your man. He has impeccable taste and a lovely young family. I just can't wait to get my new lamp. Did I happen to mention, it's orange?

Where is it?

I have lost my mojo. I find myself irritable, aggravated, and blue.  I am hopeful I will find my mojo again but after this election cycle, I am suffering from post election stress disorder. Yeah, I realize it isn't as well known as post traumatic stress disorder but it is very real. One of the symptoms is the inability to suffer fools whose only problem with the outcome of the election is that gays didn't preserve the right to marry! Grrr. My saving grace? My little monkey is delicious and very sweet right now, my closest friends and favorite neighbors are the loveliest people and NOT IDIOTS and my college monkey will come home for an overnight this weekend. I thank G-d for my many blessings and I am hopeful my mojo will return after a brief period of mourning. For now, I am taking a vacation from talk radio, reading political blogs, and talking to fools! I highly recommend it.

Help; My Shoulders Hurt!

I have a bit of stress; it's true. Tomorrow I drop my firstborn off in a city far, far away. I am sad. I cry easily these days, that's a fact. I know it's ridiculous and I really could not be happier for him but for the first time in nineteen years, I will not be able to peek in his room in the middle of the night and watch his chest rise and fall, and relax in the knowledge that all of my men are under my roof, safe and sound and close enough to hold, if I must. But my point is this; I need a new mattress. Today, if not sooner. As I have a modern, platform bed it is only the mattress I seek.

I went to the library to do my research in the stacks of Consumer Reports. For the first time in my adult life, they let me down! I read the pages and pages of their information only to be told in the conclusion that aside from the truly cheap and awful mattresses, it is a purely subjective decision and one must go bed-hopping, (though not the kind some folks do in their wild and promiscuous youths) laying on beds in stores for fifteen minutes, each. This sounds about as appealing to me as dropping my boy off in a city far away and so I ask you, my dear readers, if you have any opinions on the matter. Regarding mattresses, I mean, not dropping the boy. I'm assuming we will all agree that the  great goodbye is a singularly gut-wrenching experience!  I thank you in advance. My shoulders will thank you and my mister who listens to me complain about my aching shoulders will thank you. Your turn...

Be Myself, Really?

On one of our side trips through the middle of Costa Rica, we happened upon a lovely little hotel/restaurant that served such delicious pizza that on one day, we ate there twice!  I guess my men and I were pretty stoked to find such tasty NON-Tico food, for a change. On one side of the restaurant there was a doorway into a little room called the 'Be Yourself Room.' Cozy. Cute. Kind of hippy-dippy that there was this wizard cut-out beckoning us inside but still, a cute idea.  I had thought that my little blog would be my little Be Yourself Room but I may have overshot that. I feel a bit gun shy after having Obamamaniacs leaving me nasty messages (which I promptly delete as they are singularly vitriolic and incoherent) and more recently, OFFENDING an acquaintance with my OFFENSIVE post regarding public schools. You won't find that post as I removed it once I realized there was no upside for me. The people who know me already know I think our public schools are a disgrace and many people seem to like me in spite of this odious point of view. This recent spate of unpleasantness has given me pause and I am rethinking the wisdom of having a blog that reveals my identity. I don't really mind people getting upset by my politics, I just figure they are fools but to try to take me to task for my flea-bitten opinion, please. I have an idea, if you don't like me or my opinions, don't read my dopey blog! I had thought that posting photos of me and my monkeys and such would be just the thing for my blog's original purpose; showing my friends where we were and what we were doing. As that is no longer necessary, perhaps it's time to shut this little blog down and begin an anonymous one. It's a pity, I did so love posting photos of myself looking adorable!

Me and My Bart

Who is Bart, you may wonder. Bart is not a who, it is a what. It is what I call my new hobby. I am making bad art; Bart, for short. Not even sure if I would call it art any more than I would call finger painting art. I merely play with paint and paintbrushes. I love experimenting with paint, mixing new colors; it's quite like magic. I paint and then study the canvas.  I keep the colors I like and I paint over the ones I don't like. I love love love it. I find it meditative and a lovely way to spend time and manage my anxiety!  It reminds me of my grandmother, of blessed memory. I remember that when I was little and she would visit us from Mexico for the summer, she would often bring us jewelry boxes she had painted in 'la residencia'; a resort-like community she had moved in to not long after my grandfather passed away. Her home was too big and pointless for her to maintain so she sold the house and dismissed her 'staff'.  She moved into a lovely place for ladies of her station who had raised their families and lost their husbands. And so, here I am, not yet a grandmother but painting like an old woman with the luxury of time to find a new hobby.  My favorite piece of Bart so far, is the orange and hot pink piece; it makes me unspeakably happy to look at it. I wish I could paint it all over again. Hmmm, perhaps I will make an entire series of Lifesavers colored paintings!

Today's Deep Thought

The people who are hardest to love are the ones who need it the most.

~Can I get an 'Amen'?

Please Just Kill Yourself

This is the deep and thoughtful comment a reader left for me a few days ago on my little blog. I am abundantly aware that Obamamaniacs find my postings about the Obamessiah very disturbing. I understand that and I am perfectly willing to let comments stand so long as they are not obscene or personal and have an actual argument contained within them. So far, I have not received one regarding Obama that fits that criteria, Evidently, there is no defending him, just insulting those who dare speak the truth or raise questions about him. When I read my reader's request that I take my life, I wasn't angry, just sad. I found it sad that this poor guy allowed himself to get so upset by my point of view. As is typical of those on the left, he was so crippled by emotion that he was rendered incapable of rational discourse. So, there it is.  A request from a reader. Thank you for sharing.

Sweet Surrender

There is no saving someone else. We save ourselves but we need a really, really good reason to do it.  Like quitting a bad habit, no one can talk us into it or force us to do it. And sometimes what we need to be saved from, is ourselves.  Often times, we don't even see it. We know our lives don't exactly work but we are invested in protecting our status quo. We give in or make concessions just enough to give the appearance of change but really we just keep our dysfunctional dance going as long as we can. And then, suddenly and from out of nowhere, we are on the verge of disaster, devastation. And we are somehow surprised! We never saw it coming! How did this happen? How did we get here? And that's it. Fight or flight. OR surrender. That's right, surrender. The most powerful thing in a relationship is not strength, it is surrender. I have always heard of surrender in the context of religion or sex, but that's another post for another time! I will say that I think surrender can be delicious and utterly liberating. Say uncle, start over. You can stop fighting. Fighting for your right to be whatever it is that got you into trouble in the first place. Surrender; just stop. Take a deep breath and look around, and accept where you are and the possibilities that lay ahead.

Farewell

This weekend I attended a memorial service for a man I did not know.  He was a stranger to me but not a stranger to some people I know and love.  The man who passed was the grandfather of one of my son's very best friend's.  My son knew and admired this man and  I love and admire the family.  They are the loveliest people as they possess some of what I consider to be the finest of the human virtues; humility, humor, and compassion.  And so, my #1 monkey and I got duded up and went to Forest Lawn.  The first part of the memorial took place in a lovely chapel.  The rows of seats couldn't hold all of the people who had come to pay their respects and so folding chairs were added.  That tells quite a bit about the deceased and the family, to be sure.  Before the service started our friend, the son of the deceased and father of my son's friend, who I think is a singularly lovely man came to greet friends.  He came by and the moment I saw him, I was filled with sadness.  I could imagine what he was feeling and I was reflecting on the loss of my fathers, as well.  I lost my father when I was 18 years old and had no idea at the time, the enormity of that loss.  And I lost my dear, sweet father-in-law, who I loved easily as much as anyone could love a father, when I was 40 years old.  I don't think it matters how old you are when you lose a parent; it is devastating and life-altering. The service was very beautiful and I was particularly moved by the eulogy delivered by the son. It was beautifully written, delivered with great poise and terribly moving.  It is no small feat to speak of one's father so soon after losing him without being overcome with emotion. It is no small thing to keep your wits and emotions in check. One must have great inner strength and dignity; this man clearly has both. My son and I were naturally moved to tears. We had each come equipped with hankies (and I, waterproof mascara), this wasn't our first time at the rodeo. As my son had to get to work, we were unable to attend the second part of the service at the graveside.  In Jewish tradition, when you lose a parent, you tear an outer garment that you wear for a period of time before you mend it. This is to signify that something in your life has been irretrievably lost, permanent damaged and though it may be mended, just as your heart hopefully will heal in time, it will never be the exactly the same as it was before it was ripped.   

I'm Nothing But Fuzz on the Furniture

I love that line.  I wish I could claim it as my own but it came from a movie.  A woman says it to her husband as she lays dying and he is furious with her for it.  She is angry with him, which is why she says it in the first place, and I couldn't tell if he was angry at her for dying or for delivering that line.  I caught the movie halfway in and I have no idea what led up to this exchange or what followed, as I lost interest.  I know just what she meant, though.  There are times when that is exactly how I feel; like I'm nothing but fuzz on the furniture.   

All Is Not Lost

Upon returning home after three months in the jungle, one of the first things I did was turn on the tower of technology.  The computer, of course.  I push the button, nothing.  I call the mister who had suggestions and helpful advice, nothing.  I get the monkeys involved, you guessed it, nothing.  I had YEARS of photos in that computer.  Years.  Swim meets, surf meets, music recitals, birthdays, vacations, parties, everything of any importance, in that tower.  I thought about those hundreds of pictures and smiled.  Smiled like a mental patient.  I was remembering that in a flash of brilliance, just days before heading out to Costa Rica, I asked my #1 monkey if he would copy every one of my photos on to discs.  It was a time-consuming project but he did it.  For once, being the Debbie Downer, neurotic, what if something dreadful happens while we're gone kind of a gal, came in quite handy!  Our computer guy is now in possession of said tower of technology, working to find and fix the problem.  So, I have not spent the past two weeks worried that those priceless pictures are lost forever.  They are not.  They are here in a little stack of discs, thank goodness.  After all, without these little discs I wouldn't have been able to post evidence of this happy, happy day!

Naked

I feel a little like a crab without a shell.  At least how I imagine it feels to be a crab without a shell.  This morning, I drove my baby boy to LAX.  I cried as I drove on the freeway (what a dork!) and I felt terrible doing that to the boy.  He was gracious and understanding but it was not at all the drive I had planned to have together.  I had so hoped that I could hold it together until after I dropped him off.  Ridiculous.  Apparently, I have very little (ok, no) self control; it may be necessary for me to get on some sort of medication!  Luckily, we arrived so early, as I am compulsively early to most things, that we parked for a good twenty minutes and I pulled myself together and we ended up joking and laughing and I was grateful that that was how we ended our time together.  Bon Voyage, monkey-man.  So, my boy and my President will be in Israel at the same time.  I heard on the radio that Al Qaeda has encouraged their supporters to send out a welcome wagon for President Bush, in the form of bombs.  How original.  I may never sleep again.

Stormy Weather

We got some rain.  And with the rain, quite a bit of wind.  It was so windy in fact, that I thought the house might get swept up and I may wake up to have landed on an old witch in the land of Oz.  Nothing like that; instead of waking up to a blindingly technicolor world, I awoke to a decidedly gray one.  The sky was gray, as was the ocean, as was my mood!  I thought that the rain would always make me think of Costa Rica, after living there and experiencing so much of it there but it doesn't.  Maybe because it has been so cold and I don't associate the cold with Costa Rica at all.  Since I needed to do something to cheer myself up, I looked in the cupboard and found Valrhona chocolate discs.  A very large bag of them.  It was one of the only edible items I didn't give away or use up before we left three months ago.  Boy, was I happy to see my beloved chocolate!  Making chocolate almond bark is not like cooking or baking, it's more like playing and assembling.  I was instantly more cheery.  The moment I set about melting the chocolate, my cares evaporated.  The best part was that it was the perfect thing to bring to a dear friend (a fellow chocolate lover) who was nice enough to invite the monkeys and me over for dinner.  Ideal situation as I reaped the benefits of playing with chocolate without having to summon up superhuman discipline to keep from eating the entire batch.      

Inauspicious Beginnings

This can't be a great way to begin the new year.  As one of my monkeys and I sat down to breakfast lunch on New Year's Day, we noticed that one of the tankers out in the ocean seemed to be on fire.  I was reminded of my neighbors in the jungle, burning their trash.  The smoke seemed to billow in the same way and it was the same dark charcoal  gray color.  It's possible all fires look that way but I really wouldn't  know.  Aside from fires in fireplaces and fire pits, these two are likely the only fires that I have witnessed in person.  I have led a sheltered existence, indeed.   
I'd be willing to bet that the fire on the boat was considerably larger than the garbage fire in the jungle.  Fortunately, just minutes after we noticed the smoke, the fire was extinguished.  There was a flurry of activity here caused by the sight; neighbors on their decks raising their binoculars, kids on the beach suspending their fun to look, and me, snapping my photos.  It is true; wherever you go, there you are.   

Happy New Year

To change one's life:  Start immediately.  Do it flamboyantly.  No exceptions.  ~William James

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count.  It's the life in your years.  ~Abraham Lincoln

As you grow older, you'll find the only things you regret are the things you didn't do.  ~Zachary Scott

Every man dies.  Not every man really lives.  ~Braveheart

When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced.  Live your life in such a manner that when you die the world cries and you rejoice. ~Indian Saying

If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say?  And why are you waiting? 
~Stephen Levine

Present your family and friends with their eulogies now - they won't be able to hear how much you love them and appreciate them from inside the coffin.  ~Anonymous

Don't ever save anything for a special occasion.  Being alive is the special occasion.  ~Author Unknown

May the new year bring you good health, happiness, and loving personal relationships.  ~Nora

 

Meds, Mags, and Media

Guess what I am doing today?  The photo to the right tells the whole story.  I am administering cold medication, taking monkey's temperatures, pouring soda and making miso soup.  Oh, and drinking espresso, lots and lots of espresso.  My life is very nearly perfect.  Sure, I wish my boys hadn't contracted colds just seconds after returning home, but asi es la vida (that's life).  This has all the makings of a day that would justify never getting out of pajamas!  This is also likely the perfect day to catch up on the most enjoyable element of three months worth of mail; perusing catalogs and magazines.  I am also getting caught up with the news of the day.  As I watch the news coverage, I am chagrined at the little nicknames assigned to important issues.  Huckaboom?  Huckabust?  I don't know how these poor reporters manage to keep a straight face while they report on the future presidency of the United States while using cutesy nicknames!  And by the way, Huckabee is most assuredly NOT my preferred candidate.  And not just because it's so easy to make goofy nicknames out of Huckabee.  And we're off...      

Morning Has Broken

We awaken to a glorious though bitingly cold morning.  I miss the jungle warmth already.  I am very happy to be here though.  And more than that, I am so relaxed.  In some ways, living in a foreign country frequently left me on edge and bewildered.  When I moved there, I had no idea how to manage even the most basic aspects of life.  From where to buy food I was familiar with, to whom to see when a child gets sick and most things in between.  But it is a lovely and peaceful country; a rich country in the deepest sense.  Its natural beauty is stunning.  It's also a place where you can SLOW way down and appreciate the most simple and magical elements of your surroundings.  A place where you can really find peace and quiet.  The kind of peace that will allow you to do the soul searching, I believe, we were meant to do. The sort of introspection there is little opportunity for in our daily lives in our more 'advanced' society.  In only three months, I bonded with my jungle and certainly with the Ticos in my neighborhood.  I will miss it and them.  But right now, I have a sunrise to enjoy and I will enjoy it knowing that the only critters surrounding me are my two beloved monkeys. 

The Last Day

The last few days we were together in the jungle were the hardest.  They were the hardest because I was so ridiculously emotional.  I had become used to adapting to difficult situations like power outages, floods, leaky roofs, canceled appointments, delays, and physical discomfort.  It was much easier to adapt to physical challenges than to deal with my sadness at the upcoming fragmentation of my family.  It was certainly much harder than dealing with dirty 'servicios' and spiders in the house.  But, there we were, about to be separated for longer than we ever have been, ever.  My monkeys and me heading to the states, my mister staying behind and a week after coming home, my oldest monkey was to depart for a month long trip abroad, without me!  Suddenly, the rougher aspects of being in a third world country didn't seem so bad.  After all, I'd rather be in a third world country with all of my men, than in the lap of luxury without two of them.  Since I was getting bluer by the minute, I suggested that as a distraction, we go up to the the unfinished monolith and have a picnic.  It ended up being one of the most fun experiences in our three months in the jungle.  We packed up the cookies we had bought at the feria (farmer's market) from the Mennonite's and lots of delicious Fanta Naranja and we were off.  When we reached the house, we found the sun was high and the sky was nearly cloudless.              
We sat near the unfinished pool and pretended that after we finished up our snacks, we'd go for a dip.  I think that since it was so sunny, it put us into a sunny mood.  I was so grateful the weather was helping me out of my funk.  It was the day before Christmas and it felt like anything but.  I wonder how long one has to live there before one adjusts to a hot and sunny December.  After I'd  had enough sun, we went and sat in the living room.   
As we sat there, Adrian reached up and grabbed the cord that will eventually be hooked up to a fan and made like he'd been electrocuted.  I guess some things are funny no matter how old you get!  As I looked at the photos I took that afternoon, I realized that Ivan was eating a cookie in virtually every picture.  I must confess that his weakness for sweets he got from his mother.
By the time I took this shot, we were all quite comfortable; tummies full of oatmeal raisin cookies and sugary soda.  The men decided that stretching out was in order; never mind that the floors are concrete!   We had lively conversations that day and I can't remember a single one.  Perhaps later on, when I am no longer so susceptible to tears, I will remember them. 

As the sky clouded over, I announced that I would try walking all the way down to the house, a first.  Ivan decided to go with me.  It was a wonderful walk, mostly downhill.  The cloud cover kept us cool.  Towards the end of our walk, it got rather steep and I couldn't believe Ivan handled it wearing flip-flops.  Just yards from the house, the men pulled up behind us.  They drove slowly as we walked next to the truck.  I was well pleased with myself for making it under my own power the entire way.  Just seconds after walking back into the house, we heard thunder and the rain began to fall.  It was a lovely way to spend what would be our last day together for some time. 

SJO to LAX

I am heading back to the states for an extended visit soon.  I am ridiculously excited to see my friends and sleep in my old bed and relax into a world I know and can more easily control manage.  But I am also dreading the inevitable feelings of sadness and loss.  While there aren't that many things I will miss about my life here, the few things I will miss, I will miss profoundly.  I would share with you what those things are but I risk bursting into tears and that is exactly the sort of thing I am trying to avoid.  I have already spent the past week on the verge of tears at the most unexpected and inopportune moments.  And what about my beloved little blog?  Should I keep writing about my experiences and observations about my life in the jungle?  I most certainly still have plenty of material, not to mention photos!  Besides that, I just don't know if anyone will find my rather unremarkable existence in California of any interest.  Sometimes even I begin to lose interest in my own day to day!  Perhaps I should take up writing about my socio-political views and thus ensure I will lose the interest of my blog's readers in record time!

Bubba's y La Sirena

The other day found Adrian and I on our own as Brian had taken Ivan into town to have his braces tuned up.  As we are soon to send Adrian halfway around the world for over one month (longer than we have ever been apart and yes, he can hardly wait!), any opportunity I have to create a memory and enjoy time with him, I'll gladly take.  We decided to head up the coast to Esterillos to check out the surf.  Esterillos isn't far from us and it is a lovely beach with decent waves, I'm told.  It also happens to be where a Bubba's is located.  There's another Bubba's in Jaco, we visited with my friend Teri, and while the food was really good, the site itself leaves much to be desired.  Not so with the Bubba's in Esterillos.  It is located right on the beach and it's large and spacious.  As you can see from this photo, we were the only ones there at this particular time.  Adrian and I decided to have lunch as the waves didn't pass muster for surfing.  We ordered our lunch of Coca Cola Light, (that's what they call diet soda's here, light) and fish tacos.  As you look out at the ocean from the beach, you can see the statue of a sirena (mermaid) in the water.  When it is low tide, you can actually walk out to the statue but when we were there, tide was coming in and it looked lovely out there, the lone sirena.  Not normally a fan of sirenas, perhaps owing to the fact that I am not very mermaidish myself, I nonetheless found this one compelling and thought about how much I sometimes feel as though I am in the same position she is in.  Isolated and at the mercy of the tides.  Speaking metaphorically, of course.  La sirena brought to my mind many thoughts about the ebb and flow of life and relationships, the ever changing nature of the world around us and the constance of who we are while surrounded by the only constant in life, which is change.  I could go on and on and get melodramatic and perhaps even maudlin, but who needs it?  Chances are that my dear readers are more interested in the Costa Rica part of the journey than in my own more personal journey.   Now, about those waves and fish tacos!  The tacos were tasty, very tasty and after lunch Adrian noticed that the waves had kicked up or however you would put it and asked if I would mind if he went in for a surf session.  Now, what a silly question! 

   

Finca Norita Update

I should first say that I had hoped by now this house would be finished and we would be moving in any minute. Then, I could send smoke signals out to my nearest and dearest inviting them to make their plans to get down here and they could stay in the house we are in now.  No such luck.  Or should I say, que mala suerte. 

I would so love to have my friends come here but I don't want to say, "Hey, come and visit me and rent a car and spend a ton of dough for a nice hotel while you're at it!"  I hate doing that!

I guess I will just have to keep my fingers and toes and eyes crossed and hope that the house is finished soon and we can talk our friends into coming for a visit. 

 

I am hoping that this place will be inhabitable by spring. Even if it isn't fully furnished; a few beds, a table, and some chairs would be quite enough for us.  That and the company of the people we love would round things out quite nicely.

The Crate and Barrel of the South

I left behind, in California, a collection of what I would consider pretty terrific 'stuff.'  An ice cream maker, waffle maker, espresso machine,  Global knives, Martini glasses with a blue tint, Madeleine baking pan, Springform pans, Martini shaker, sifters, mixers, chocolate molds! You name it, if it's fabulous and belongs in a kitchen, I've got it!  I figured that when I moved down here, I would get more really terrific stuff for our casita here.  That proved to be the most unrealistic expectation I had about moving down here and trust me, there have been plenty!  I am seen here shopping for things to stock my tiny kitchen.  I guess this store could be considered the Crate and Barrel of Quepos.  Except that instead of stocking pretty things that are simply designed , it is filled with plastic things that are cheaply made.  Now my kitchen is stocked in pretty much the same manner one outfits a rental cabin.  How's that for superficial?

Good Morning, Sunshine

I awake to a breathtakingly beautiful morning.  Brian and Adrian have gone to the beach, Ivan is doing his school work and it's time for unpacking, coffee drinking, and basking in the quiet of the jungle.  As for sleep, it was very nice although our bed here is a bit smaller than the one we left behind which is not too big a deal.  After all, we are not large people.  When we went into town to buy the mattress a few months back, we were looking for one that was queen size.  I think that's the perfect size.  It says, I am luxurious and tasteful but not greedy like that vulgar King Size! So, we headed into town and went to the furniture store.  Everything in that store looked as though it had been imported  from the mid west  in 1970.  We found the largest mattress in the store and bought it.  As I began putting the lovely sheets I had brought from the states on the bed, I realized I had lots of sheet left over after covering the mattress.  The largest bed sold in town was a Double Bed!  Very cozy, to be sure but come on!  Brian thought it was just fine and set out to gather wood from the property to make a frame for the bed!  Very Swiss Family Robinson although I have always fancied myself much more Breakfast at Tiffany's!
   
But I digress, I set out to finish unpacking and I begin to realize that I packed as though I had never even met me!  For instance, I brought NO CHOCOLATE!  The ONLY food I can virtually guarantee I will eat every day.  Didn't bring any.  Another fascinating development was in the toiletries department.  I brought one tube of mascara and seven eye shadows.  Uh, I don't wear eyeshadow!  No shampoo, five conditioners.  I'm not kidding.  It's as though I was entering the witness protection plan and had one hour to pack up or the mob would find me and have me whacked!  You're probably thinking, calm down, just go get what you need.  Really, where?  I'm in the jungle!  I know I really do need to calm down.  On the upside, I feel as though I left civilization months ago, not days.  I am such a news and talk radio junkie back home.  I feel as though I have fallen off the face of the planet.  Wait, did I say that was the upside?  I just feel so isolated.  Have I mentioned that I brought more shoes than clothes?

Goodbye, Surfside

As I stood in my living room this quiet and sunny morning, I thought of how much living this room has held.  How many friends, naps, laughs, debates, conversations, and parties have filled this little room.  How much silliness and sadness.  Empty, this room is just that, an empty room.  I don't think I will miss the room like I will miss the living we did in it.

What better way to spend the last afternoon at the beach than on a homemade slip and slide?  Who needs a water park when you have access to a Stockwell Special!