Harlech Castle is Scary

See, usually I love castles. I made Ashley come on a trip wth me to North Wales with the sole purpose of touring castles. I love castles of all levels of deconstruction. I loved the first two castles we visited (Conwy and Caernarfon). Then, we went to Harlech Castle.

First, proof that I do like castles.

I look happy to be here in this photo, right?

But there were millions of signs like this:

And I was hungry, so I was shaky.

I was tired, because we stayed at a B&B and had to wake early for breakfast.

My legs were rubbery because we had walked up and down millions of castles stairs for two days straight.

It was windy, and as the sign above stated, there was little barrier to keep me from flying off the side of the castle and into the ocean.

It was wet, so the stones were slippery.

And, to top it off, I was wearing my danskos.

Ask my mom to tell you a story about what happens when you wear danskos on slippery welsh stones. She has a good story.

Anyway, all these factors combined made for this face:

I was terrified, cranky, and most of all, astonished that I did not lke this castle. I usually consider myself a pretty adventurous person, but in this case I just knew that I would have little control over being able to catch myself if I lost my balance.

Harlech is a scary castle.

Silly Castle Adventures With Ashley

I was going through all my Wales footage at work, and I found several clips of conversations/incidents do I not only have no recollection of, but made me laugh out loud. So, I put a little video together. It's kind of a little present for Ashley, but I thought some of my other friends might enjoy it too.

Maybe.

It is pretty silly.

Just promise you won't judge me for thinking this is funny.

: )

Become virtual Luggage

Most people know by now that I got a new job as a journalist for PNN.com. You also probably know that I am going to Wales for Christmas.

What you may not know is exactly just how awesome my job is. I am going to be "working' from Wales. I have a website called A Girly's Christmas in Wales. (http://christmasinwales.pnn.com) and I am going to be posting movies, photos, journal entries, audio clips, and other little yummy treats that demonstrate Welsh culture while I am over there.

It's going to be legendary. (thanks, Neil Patrick Harris)

Anyway, my question for you is this:

Do you want to come with me?

Well, I can't actually physically take you to Wales with me, as much as I would like to. Not unless you are a pilot who can charter a plane to fly a gaggle of PNN-ites over the pond for us.

But if you follow my adventures online, it is like I am taking you with me. You become my Luggage. My virtual Luggage.

How do you become Luggage? First, Join PNN.com and set up your own website. Yes, you get a free webpage out of the deal. Then, join the Christmas in Wales Group. Post the Luggage icon on your page so I know where you are. (If you don’t put a Luggage tag on yourself how will I ever know which bags riding around the airport carousal are mine?)

Then, just sit back and check Christmasinwales.pnn.com every morning to find out what you will be doing that day.

It’s a pretty sweet deal. Join PNN.com and I’ll lug you around Wales with me this Christmas.

Wanna come?

A Weekend in SF

These are some of my fave pics from my, Marissa, and Tatiana's (AKA JMar, MaRose, and TeeHee) weekend in SF. We spent some time in North Beach, and spent the night in the Castro. We went to gay bars at night (my first time. yay!). It was so fun! We saw lots of naked men and lots of butts all weekend. For various reasons. Sometimes it was guys looking out the windows of their hotel rooms with just their undies on, sometimes it was people competing in a best ass competition at a bar, and sometimes it was just because very toned guys were dancing around the club in their underwear.

Description of photos above:

1. The stairwell at City Lights Bookstore. There was another picture that I really wanted to take, but there were lots of people around and I was scared. Of what? Perhaps someone jumping out from behind a bookshelf and screaming "Don't take pictures in here!" More likely just getting dirty looks from really cool people who lurk around City Lights.

2. Little Orphan Andy's: our fave Castro Diner! I won't tell you how many times we ate there. The lights there are quite orange, hence the orange color in the pic.

3. Outside City Lights, just hangin' around North Beach. I like this shot.

What are you doing on December 17th?

Because I am wingin' it to Wales!

Honorary Welsh Girl Hears the Mothership

I found this pen in my notebook yesterday, and I have no idea how it got there. I have never seen it before in my life.

The other side of the pen reads: www.studyintheuk.org. I have already done that. And it may be pure coincidince, but my time in Wales was such an important time in my life, that I feel like the sudden and inexplicalbe presence of this pen in my life means something.

Maybe it's trying to give me direction. When I was in Wales I was completely confused about myself and my place in the world. I was lost and lonely, but I was accomplishing a goal that I had my entire life. I was living abroad. I was studying abroad. I was traveling to Italy. I was falling in love in a foregin country. So while I was a little lost hobbit on a crazy adventure most of the time, there was such importance and purpose behind my life that in a strange way I felt romantically fulfilled. I could have given Wordsworth a run for his money.

Maybe I'm just supposed to focus on saving for and planning my next trip abroad. Maybe I am supposed to focus on my writing. Maybe I am supposed to work harder at making a career out of my writing.

I have no idea where I am going with this post other than this: a symbol of a very important part of my life has surfaced lately, and I think it is trying to tell me something.

*** "Not all who wander are lost." J.R.R. Tolkein ***

Sometimes Fish are HUGE!!! Like tuna...

Something Fishy in Monterey

With the windows down...

Tasteless Paris Hilton Jokes

Here I am, practicing my Paris Hilton pose on Alcatraz.

(Not-so) Yummy Coffee on Alcatraz

What happens when I get hungry...

Perhaps one of my greatest faults, or at least annoyances to other people, is my blood sugar level. It drops suddenly, with maybe a two second warning, and it is not pretty. I get cranky, mean, tired... and I take it out on the person closest to me.

My poor friends and family.

My new resolution is this: keep snacks with me at all times. Trail mix is the best idea. The nuts have protein for long term energy and the chocolate and dried fruits give instant sugar energy. At least the mix will give me enough energy to make it to the next deli or smoothie place.

Sooo Seattle.

Me in My House.

This is the first house I ever lived in.

When Ashley and I visited Seattle recently, I took him to see it. My dad rents it out now, and we just happened to visit it while it was between tenants (new people were moving in a few days later), so I felt perfectly guilt-free taking invasive photos of one of the cutest little houses I have ever been in.

The structure of my house (I call it that, even though it's not really mine. But in all of Seattle, it's the house that feels closest to mine), is in awesome shape. They put new carpet and new applicances in recently, and all the things that are expensive/difficult to fix look like they are in good shape. However, the lawn needs some serious weeding and manicuring, and the outdoor paint could use a spicier coat of love. Over-all, though, I am pleased with the way the house is holding up.

There are a lot of windows in this house, a situation which offered lots of cool self portrait photo-ops. In this pic, I am looking through the back door and you can almost see through the front window of the house. The white building you see in the window is the renovated garage. It's a perfect little artists studio/office/whatever that really gives this teeny tiny house a little something extra.

I love this house, and I love that Ashley loved it too. I only hope that it makes it back to me one day.

I am afraid of hippos.

This may sound strange, but I used to be terrified of the hippos at the Woodland Park Zoo (Seattle) when I was a little girl. Wierd, considering my favorite animals as a kid were lions. And really, which animal do you think would pose a greater threat if I were to run into the two out in the wild?

None-the-less, hippos used to terrify me. I think it was the way they would just sort of popup from underwater, with absolutely no notice. Or maybe I thought I would fall into their pond. Or maybe I realized, after seeing one yawn, that a hippo could easily swallow my three-foot tall, little girl body whole.

There was a collage of large, smooth rocks that I used to play on while we visited the hippo exhibit at the zoo. They were far enough from the pond where I knew I wouldn't have to worry about falling in, and they were a pleasant distractiont. Pleasant, that is, until someone pointed out to me that they kind of looked like giant hippos, rising out of the water.

This picture, with my mock-Macauly Culkin scream face, shows how I have overcome my fear of hippos. I think I've realized that they can't swallow my new, 5'3", womanly body whole.

It would take more like two gulps.

Hello, I'm a Monk Fish!

The Flying Fish Stand in Pike Place Market, Seattle.

A Promised Adventure

I ran into a trio of people a few days ago that lit an inspired fire within me.

Three people walked into a winery I was visiting: two guys and a girl. I could tell the guys were British the second they walked in the door. They had tousled, just slightly tousled hair, and were wearing polished looking sweaters. The kicker? One guy was wearing a scarf in typical British/European fashion: folded in half, then looped through it's self around the neck. The two guys spoke, and their posh English accents confirmed it.

I asked where they were from. They told me, but I was too excited to even really hear what they said. I found out that one of the guys was living in Seattle (the girl lived there too). I told them I spent a year in Swansea and they were actually excited about it. One guy laughed and said "how'd you end up there?" I also told them I was from Seattle, and I felt like we were all excited about our location connections. It was so fun to have them respond so enthusiastically; usually the British rest on their reserve sides when I talk about Swansea, but these guys were excited with me.

And we all liked the same wines we were tasting too. I joked that we could all share a bottle of wine together. I was kind of serious, though. I wanted to follow them home!

I’ve been looking for some sort of direction in my life lately. I’ve been waiting for something exciting and important to come my way. After my favorite little trio left, I realized what I want to do. I want to go back to the U.K.

I’ve been thinking about going back to the U.K. for awhile, but the moment I had a few days ago made the plan feel right in my soul. I’m implementing a savings plan and I am going to the U.K. for a month in the summer of ’08. From there, I will decide whether I want to move there, or whether I want to seek out a different adventure. It will be so good to see all my friends again, it will be lovely to see my honorary home land in the summer, and it also leaves possibilities for Ashley and my relationship.

More importantly, it's a plan. And it promises adventure.

photo taken at the Gower in Wales, June 2004

Ah, daffodils.

My daffodils are popping up! I was worried that they wouldn't pop up at all, an experience that would make me the absolute worst gardener ever, considering daffodils are so easy to grow. But a few days ago, one brave little bud broke his way through the dirt, and now his friends are following.

I never cared much for daffodils until my year abroad in Swansea. The Welsh winter was hanging heavily over my head and heart, and it seemed like everything was depressing. But sometime in March, my mood began to change course. For weeks I had noticed clumps of what looked like onion roots in grass patches along the bus root into town. One particularly gloomy day I was gazing out the window on my way into town and I realized what all those "onion roots" really were. Daffodils. Happy, yellow, bouncy daffodils all over town. No matter how gloomy the weather was, or how dismal my spirits were, those bubbly little flowers just wouldn't quit. Even when a violent storm was brewing that was sure to break their stalks and rip off their petals, the daffodils were happy. The winds blew, and they bounced about like they were dancing. It was like they were partying at their own funeral: bobbing around in the wind to the tune of music only they could hear. Some of the daffodils survived the storm, though they were a little worn from all their partying.

I think I love daffodils so much because they are brave flowers. They are like little messengers of spring, popping up before all the other flowers to make sure everything is all set for everyone else's arrival. They light up winter with their yellow and bouncy attitudes while they are there, then bravely fall shortly after.

Grand Central Station

I'm in the deadline version of Grand Central Stations right now. Projects are arriving on little railways and must be ready to take off on their departure time or I'll have a train full of angry employers. My reputation is on the line. In other words, no time for fancy talk. Stay tuned for an article on Snoop Dog coming your way this weekend.


Disclaimer: Showing the flag backwards in this photo is not intended to be disrespectful. It was simply the best angle for taking this picture.