goodbye Rising Star

This video is purely in accompaniment of a post on my India blog. Which, again, won't give me video for free. Grrrr.

But if you're to lazy to go look at it, I'll explain here... this is the view out the bus window as we left on Friday night for the airport (I myself was to come back later, and fly out Saturday, so I had to experience the goodbyes twice :(

oh and I had the video setting on a low quality by accident. Oops. Oh well.

(oh and by the way, I am NOT finished blogging about India... there wasn't enough time there to do it justice... so if you're interested in reading/seeing more, please keep checking back! Thanks yo :)

i love you Rosemary

This is my little Rosemary. I am now not only her "Auntie", but officially her sponsor :)

If YOU would like to sponsor a child at Rising Star Outreach, click HERE. Let me tell you, I've seen the sponsorship program live and in action, and it's real... and it's helping these children to be the FIRST generation from the leprosy colonies who will be productive members of society, and to break the mold that has cast them for so long. It was so hard to choose just one of the children to sponsor-- I love them all! -- but I also can't deny others this opportunity (even we as volunteers were "fighting" over the kids who still needed sponsors! They're going fast! :) Each child needs three monthly sponsors to cover the cost of their education and boarding (hostel) at Rising Star.

Oh and by the way, I know this post is on the "wrong" blog... dumb wordpress requires money to put video on my India blog. Almost worth it, for this clip. (But luckily Blogger is more generous :)

I love you Rosemary... !

that's a whole lot of BSS

Sooo... I have a new respect for the President of our United States, and it comes from his presence here in India.

It's not just that most people (even in remote rural leprosy colonies) seem to know who he is, it's that he is a symbol for hope of ALL kinds, even when that hope extends to, say, using his face to sell difficult farm lots or solicit enrollment in a local computer college or to incite revolt against a conflicting political party because Obama=Change, everyone knows that.

Especially, though, it's because you see his face in full color on these advertisements, smiling and happy and pretty much telling you, "Hey-- you want change? Attend this computer college. I did, and look where I am now." HOPE for all ages.

The BSS Computer College is the most prevalent of all the Obama-ads I've seen, and though I've caught a peek a number of times, as well as had my own personal encounter with the real-live Obama in the past I've never been in a position to be quick enough to actually photograph one of the posters.

All I know is, it ain't no lie, dreams do come true where Obama is concerned. BSS dreams, obviously, in hoping that the mere presence of his face on their ad will inspire massive enrollment, and one of my own personal goals definitely came to fruition today, on the drive to Bhathalapuram when I finally snagged a photo of said ad. True, I had to suddenly yell "Obama!" the moment I glimpsed it and then force Kelsey and Kristin down and out of my way as I lept a whole 2 feet horizontally across the van to aim my lens out their window at a moving target, all within a 2.5-second window of time, but I know -- I KNOW -- it was my hope in Obama that gave me the strength to do it. Thanks, Barack! And I'll definitely attend your computer college, no probs.


Though, I must say... no disrespect to his handsome profile, of course... but those smiling mustachioed faces surrounding him are also pretty tempting prospects. I have no idea what they're advertising, but you can be sure I'm buying it. Or attending it. Or giving my firstborn to it, whatever.

I was slightly disheartened on the trip back from the colony, though, when we saw this competing ad for the Apollo computer course. Who does she think she is, this random young Indian girl?? She is no Michelle Obama, that's for sure. Poor poor Apollo Computer Education LTD. It's too bad they weren't able to sign on Barack before those sharks down at BSS got him. Or, er, used his image without permission.


But, really, who am I to say which is the better face of computer education (and change)? Take my poll (to the left) and tell me what you think. And then, as a thank you, please feel free to use my posted image of Pres. Obama for your OWN ads and posters, it's totally de rigeur and, naturally, makes so much sense in any venue or theme. Happy posting and polling!

Inhibitions: GONE.

Soooo... many of you know that I'm not really a nudist. In fact, until the now-semi-annual Midnight Naked Swims at the Homestead, I was super-shy-modest and had probably never stripped down for anyone, except for the time I was in the ER for massive kidney stone pain and so out of it that when the nurse said "put on this hospital gown", I was ready to bare all right then and there, Allan Staker in the room or not. (Allan, however, was not delirious, and so, graciously excused himself without catching even a tiny peep.) So I didn't strip then, so that doesn't count at all. And, really, the Midnight Naked Swims ALSO don't count, because it's dark and everyone's a blur and there is a Five-Foot-Radius Rule while in the pool anyway, because really, who wants to see that.

Well, that's all changed.

Today (Saturday), most of the volunteers were in Delhi/Agra at the Taj Mahal, so the remaining troops used the day off to head to Mamallapuram, a beach town about an hour from the village ("beach", as in the Indian Ocean, more specifically the Bay of Bengal. I KNOW. COOL.) We went to the Ideal Beach Resort (that's the name! and it is) to use the pool and beach facilities, etc, and to get nine-dollar-massages. (I KNOW. AWESOME.) Specifically, "aruyevic" (or something like that) massages... I don't know what the name means, but I'll tell you what it turned out to be:

A rub-down.

And... AWESOME.

Oh and by the way, totally nude.

Not nude as in "kindly remove your clothing and get under the sheet on the massage table while I give you a little privacy" massage-nude, but as in "You take clothes off, please-" "-Uh, everything?" "Everything" while she stands and watches - nude. And then sit, naked, in a chair while you get the preliminary hair and face massage. And then crawl up onto the towel-covered massage table, naked, while your masseuse waits with her bowl of oil in hand.

And then... she covers your entire body with oil, and commences the rub down... this is no kneading muscles massage for the most part, this is a rapidly-run-your-hands-from-toe-to-shoulder-in-a-sweeping-motion massage that feels like mini wooden rollers are going over the whole surface, slick with oil, and you can't tell if she has bumpy hands or if oh my goodness, I didn't know my muscles etc. had that many ridges.

Oh and by the way, did I mention it's a full-body massage? As in, FULL BODY. Front and back.

A few thoughts that went through my head during this 40-minute experience:

1) Huh. I'm completely naked and some stranger is rubbing down my entire body.

2) Huh. That isn't phasing me at all. Weird that it's not phasing me at all.

3) Huh. I never knew I was ticklish on my, to be delicate, "bottom". Soles of the feet, yes, but on my rear-cheeks? No. Weird.

4) I should be naked more often.

Man it was great. :)

(And soooo not something I would post on my India blog... hence the deviation from "I'm not blogging on here until the end of August" :)

Esther and I were still pretty oily even after the post-massage towel-down,

but ohhh, so relaxed.

can't help it

gotta put a couple of photos on this blog, as well...

this is Rosemary (yes, an English name...), and it was her birthday yesterday.
PRECIOUS. I have about 100 photos of her.

AND, on a totally different view:

This is a little photo we like to call "The Jared". Jared is also known as "The Boy" (so named by Kelsey, the one in the blue bandana), since he is the only boy in a volunteer group full of girls, this session. Jared was posing in "awkward photos" for me (there is eventually going to be an entire blog post on my Go and Do blog dedicated to that, at some point :), and we came up with this one. Sooooo great! I LOVE LOVE LOVE these girls! And boy!

Top row: Bree, me, Kelsey, Kim, Kaitlin... Front row: Karly, Sami, Ava... and, of course, Jared.

(and yes btw I am the grandma of the group! They are all 17-21, except for one 27-year-old girl! Weird-- why aren't there more girls in their 30's out here doing this?? :) BUT-- we have all immediately bonded and I can't even express how much I love everyone!)

As usual, for more info, keep up with the real blog... (click here)

all the cool girls go to india

From now until the end of August I can be found at my other blog! Click HERE

xoxo and namaste!

one month later...

silver swim cap and I are officially engaged.

No, actually we're not, sorry to excite like that. I froze my gym membership the next day since I knew I'd be gone virtually all of two months, so there was never a chance for us. No, actually there was, but I shot it down. Am I to blame? Yes. Can you blame me? No.

Anyhoo...

ONE MONTH LATER...

I am sitting in the Chicago airport Admirals Club lounge, happily clacking away on the free internet and not minding my 3-4 hour layover at all (I could get used to this kind of Premium travel, not gonna lie!) I'm on my way to INDIA-- FINALLY-- but let's not talk about that now. Let's talk about that in my other blog.

But, in the past month, I have:

-gone to Yosemite for the 8th summer in a row, this time for Peeve's birthday (which coincides with Our Nation's Birthday!). Blog post to come.

-gone on a 9-day Pleasure (pronounced "pleh-zhah") Cruise to the Caribbean with a few great friends. I say 'pleasure' so as to differentiate from my working cruises, and believe me it is DIFFERENT. (Derrr.) That was good times! Blog post to come.

-turned thirty-blekgh. I can't even say it. At least I was in NYC when it happened. Blog post to come.

-attended my sixth mid-singles conference (little bit of bile at having to say that), this one in Washington State, and this time attending totally A-LONE! And THAT makes for some good stories. I fully accept my new moniker of "Jennie the Brave", as bestowed by my good friends back home who were not good enough of friends to accompany me so I wouldn't be alone. But forgiven. Blog post to come!!

--AND--

-finally returned to my former blond self! Going on seven days now, yay. Well, not AS blond, and I like it this way, but I'm just so happy to look like myself again in the mirror. Small wonders. :) (not the sitcom) Blog post to come? No, not necessary.

Ho hum, if only this free computer would let me gather photos from my flash drive...

In a Relationship

So, I figured out why I'm not married. It seems I've been doing everything wrong all these years.  

Going to singles conferences to meet men? Nooo. Drying my hair? Weird. Wearing clothes? Absolutely NOT.

Apparently, the key to engagement is to be sopping-wet, in a Speedo swimsuit and swim cap, in Asian-swimmer-infested waters.

Tonight I went swimming at the gym. It's always a treat, swimming at the gym in the same city you teach in... you never know who you're going to run into (students) while wearing a swimsuit (awkward). It's also usually pretty crowded, mostly with a lot of little old Asian men and women getting some strokes in (some.) 

So, tonight, after doing laps for about 35 minutes and going from being alone in the lane to squeezing around four other lane-sharers, I was done. My last few laps, though, I'd noticed a man of indiscernible age in the neighboring jacuzzi staring at me. Juuust standing there in the water against the edge, facing the pool, staring straight at me. No expression. Just staring. I'd come up for air before turning at the end of the lane, and there he'd be... silver swim cap, orange goggles perched on forehead waiting to be lowered, arms rigid on the cement, could've been anywhere between 25 and 65... staring straight at me.

I thought maybe it was my superior swimmin' skills that were capturing his attention. Or maybe I had raccoon eyes when I took off my goggles. Or maybe, he was attempting to give me the stink-eye, because he was waiting for that particular lane and I'd been swimming for a while.

So I got out.

Now, normally when I get out, I wait until every single person in the pool area is either under water, mid-stroke in the opposite direction, or toweling their faces off before I scuttle out of the water and into my waiting towel. I'm just not... how shall we say it, ATTRACTIVE when I'm sopping wet in a Target-brand generic Speedo swimsuit, I especially stand out against my slight Asian co-swimmers (think booty), and I don't feel innocent bystanders need to be repulsed by the sight of me in all my glory.

Tonight, though, I just plain didn't care. I'd been swimming hard, I was feeling athletic, and if anyone wanted to look, well then, let them look. 

Well, look HE did.

I walked up and out of the pool and bent down slightly to place my cap and goggles by my flipflops, and as I turned to walk parallel to the jacuzzi stairs, to get in and soothe my muscles in a foamy chlorine cesspool, I noticed Silver Cap was still staring. Only now, his gaze was directly eye-level, staring straight at my Gut-Butt. (neither my gut nor my butt, because he was looking at the side of me, so therefore at my Gut-Butt). I kept walking, not even trying to suck it in, and he kept staring, his head following his eyes following my body. I was glaring at HIS head, just WAITING for him to lift his gaze so I could say "What?? (insert snappy comment here)" at the same time gesturing with my hands towards my gut-butt area, but he didn't... just moved his head in perfect synchronization with my progress towards the far end of the stairs. I caught the eye of the girl in the water behind him, who was watching his leering head-swivel, and gave her an incredulous look-- she shook her head in disgust and wonderment and returned the look, and I mouthed "creepy!"

As I eventually began my descent into the safety of the water, his tractor-beam gaze finally broke and I thought I was safe. Nope. Not for long. So I settled back against the opposite wall, perched on my heels so I could keep my head above the eight inches of foam, and commenced to glare around the room. My eyes were stinging from the chlorine fumes, and out of the corner of my right eye I could see him sitting down and placing his gaze back on me, but I was having none of it. And seriously starting to wonder, just how hideous DO I look? I know I'm not pretty when wet, but come on! Give the white girl a break. So I glared, so that I would look even prettier with a sneer on my face, and avoided eye contact with anyone and everyone. 

After an eternity of this (four minutes or so), Creepy Silver Cap still hadn't gotten out of the cesspool to take his laps or whatever his goal was, and I really wanted to get out and leave, but there was no way I was giving him the gift of a full-on butt shot from behind, he hadn't earned THAT. So I kept perching and continued to sneer/glare at nothing. My eyes were really hurting by this time.

Suddenly, though, my toxic-fume-clouded peripheral vision detected movement. A floating silver-topped head was advancing towards me...  slowly... and crap, absolutely surely, directly towards me. I struggled to make sense of it... shouldn't it veer off sharply to the right, rise out of the water, and start ascending the stairs? But no-- beeline. Right to me. I was hoping the female to my right would intercept or block the attack, and I avoided shifting my gaze until the last possible moment, but the head moved until it was right in front of me and I couldn't feign obliviousness any longer.

"Want to get married?" a leering toothy grin asked me as I turned towards the Creeper.

What???

--no-- wait--

WHAAATTT?!!!?

Pause. Little bit in shock.

"Mmm, no thanks." the poor defenseless girl in the generic Speedo replied, not without conviction.

"How about a date?"

Pursed lips. Disbelieving, blinking eyes.

"Uh, no. I'm in a relationship." (it's NEVER wrong to lie, in these kinds of situations.)

"(Jumbled words, but sounded like a question)?"

"-I'm sorry, what?"

"But if you weren't? How about then?" 

Mustering all control. Making every effort to now hold his gaze, I responded through gritted teeth,

"I'm IN a RELATIONSHIP."

He finally retreated, still smiling, back to his side of the jacuzzi. 

"But thanks, though." Gotta still be courteous, after all. (even if slightly sarcastic)

Turned to look at the girl/lady (also of indiscernible age) next to me, with a "Really??" look, and she mouthed, "Weird." (Got quite a bit of lip-reading practice that day, which is a plus in my book because you never know when you're going to need to lip-read to save your life).

Sat/perched there a few more minutes, incredulous, wondering what had just happened. And why it couldn't have been Robert Pattinson, Simon Baker, Daniel Craig, Seth Meyers, or any of most of the male cast of Friday Night Lights sitting across from me in that silver swim cap. I'm not picky. 

Creeper finally got out of the water, and when he did, he tripped a little bit. HAH. Then, upon MY exit, Pot-Bellied Italian Man did a double-take whiplash head-swing thing to be able to watch me both coming and going, as I sashayed past him with my towel loosely slung around my hips. People. COME - ON. I checked the mirror when I got back in the locker room, figuring a miracle must have happened, but no-- I DID look my standard wet-dog-hideous. Granted, my eyes had stayed somewhat dry so my work makeup hadn't transformed into black eyes, but still... what is the deal? Maybe chlorine clouds both vision AND judgment. Or maybe... I really have been getting it wrong all these years. I mean, man. I could've gotten ENGAGED tonight, y'all.

So... next mid-singles conference? It's going to be a Speedo and swim cap all the way, baby. 

Pepe Le Disgusting. Or, "How to Bag a Dead Skunk".

So, life being what it is, every now and then you're on your way out to the pool for a leisurely sunbathe, and a visiting friend tells you there's a dead rotting skunk on the side driveway. Par for the course.

And disgusting. 

But not something to be necessarily UNhappy about. A bickering pair of skunks moved into the crawl space under the house a couple of years ago, and I've been wishing I had the guts (and enough tomato juice on hand to fill a bath) to run them over with my car or death-clonk them with bricks, ever since. I like a skunk as much as the next person-- cute and furry and all-- but when they give the yard a daily spray for kicks or hang out by your car in the morning when you're late for work--? Not cool, skunks.

So-- dead skunk in the driveway? Win-win!  For one: That solved the lingering 24- hour skunk-stench mystery, and two: one skunk down, one to go.  Cause of death unknown, by the way... Coyote attack? Raccoon bar-type brawl? Tripped while being possum-chased? Gnawed its own leg off after a snake bite, trying to remove the poison? Because all of these Animal Friends live under or near the house as well, and an eventual territory war is inevitable. I myself engage in confrontation on the back porch now and then, usually in the form of hissing. The raccoon just looks at me like I'm stupid. (until I chuck a basketball at him, THEN he saunters off.)

simulation of my raccoon-hissing confrontation. pretty much the same form, just a different animal

Despite my cheers, though, there was the problem of actually REMOVING the dead skunk. This is the portion of this post that I like to call "Who Needs a Man?" or, more appropriately, "Forced to Become a She-Man". I'm pretty capable, but I don't always like that I have to be... whatever happened to getting to play the squealing female?

Anyhoo, I quickly figured out the best course of action and it included arming myself with disposable latex gloves and my trusty Karate-Kid bandana. A regular bandana might guard you from ordinary skunk offensive, but combined with decaying flesh, the Mr. Miyagi toss-off is key. 

Check out the harshly dramatic crime-scene lighting. Nature just knew. 

Some people might find dapple-lighting soothing, but after seeing 

an innocent skunk mauled (and overrun by flesh-eating insects), all of that changes.

I figured a metal snow shovel would be the best tool for scooping up the 

corpse in early stages of rigor mortis, and I wasn't wrong. 

Double-wrapped it in a couple of Heftys though, of course.

Had a little trouble scooping at first, it just kept sliding along the 

pavement (unlike snow). Plus I kinda wanted to puke, just a little bit. 

From laughing, that is. (I'm not THAT squeamish)

Finally, with the help of a big monkey wrench (kept outside in case I ever 

have the guts to chuck it at the local raccoon instead of a neon 

basketball), I was able to pooper-scooper it up onto the shovel.

From there, just pulled the Heftys back around the skunk, dropped the bundle into a 

third bag to create a Triple-Stink-Barrier, and voila! Pepe Le Trash.

Three walls of plastic aren't quite enough, though. Still stinky. 

If it didn't stink so much, I would have preferred to impale the body on a post in the front yard, as a sort of warning to the other skunks. Fortunately, though, olfactories force my humanity.

Bring it, skunks.

dude. Bad news.

VOLKSLAUF 2009 HAS BEEN CANCELED. 

For some silly reason, oh like the jail property it's on being expanded for more jail use (I have no problem with running near convicts, I have a few pointed questions I'd like the opportunity to ask them anyway), there will be no Volkslauf this coming October. DEVASTATING. What in the world do I have to look forward to (in October), now??

What is the Volkslauf and why do I love it so? Click here for my post about it, from last October...

Maybe I'll have to nix India. Volkslauf could use some donations too, so I should probably turn my attention there, instead.

HURRY UP 2010!  

Speaking of... in 2010, can we please stop saying "two-thousand-(whatever)"? and start saying "twenty-(10)"? That extra syllable of 'two-thousand' really tires me out. Wastes the energy I need for hurling myself over obstacles in a Volkslauf.

Molokai didn't need me,

soo.... I'm going to India this summer, to be a leprosy volunteer.

That's right. Leprosy.

To read all about it, CLICK HERE! You will be redirected to my new blog GO and DO, especially designed and designated for this venture and adventure!

And keep visiting, too--I'm going to have soooo much to blog about once I'm there!

(*not to worry, the totally superfluous doezieland isn't going anywhere; but sometimes, I like to be a bit more serious, and that simply has no place in the 2nd Happiest Place on Earth)

four days, forty dollars

Last summer, I vowed I would never work on cruise ships again. Boring. Had lost the appeal. Didn't get the same perks we used to. Lot of work for very little money. Just not worth it, ultimately. I decided to quit while I was still ahead, somewhat.

So of course, when Princess emailed in March and asked if I could work a weekend "repositioning" cruise in May, I said YES!

BECAUSE-- Only four days, one to embark, two at sea, and then fly home... Los Angeles to Vancouver... earn a little extra cash for summer... be at sea, which I LOVE... earn some frequent flyer miles and fly for free... get to buy Canadian Wunderbars in the Vancouver airport... keep myself on the Princess books (in the books?) just in case I decided I DID want to work more cruises in the future... and get to wear my sweet navy-pants-and-turquoise-polo uniform, again. AGAIN.

Guess what, though? I was right the first time. NOT WORTH IT. 11-hour days, $40 per day and a buffet in the Crew Mess just isn't enough to compensate for puking 3-year-olds and being at the beck and call of teenagers needing to check out a new Playstation game. Working in the kids and teens program is better than a lot of jobs on the ship, but... yeah no.

There WERE, however, some bonus perks nonetheless. There was the excitement when I first got on... it IS a pretty cool and unusual thing to do... the fact that I got an officer's cabin this time with portholes! PORTHOLES!... a great cabinmate, and a lot of great views and things that make me happy. Here are some of them:

cabin porthole view of the cruise ship terminal in San Pedro.

Which is a dump, but through a porthole? ...AWESOME.
__________

porthole view mid-day, going north up the Pacific Coast.

Somewhat rough seas, fun for me and great to sleep during,

but not when it means we have to deal with kid-puke in the Fun Zone.
__________

double-porthole view at dusk. I really, really love portholes.

I don't mind cabins without them, since I prefer complete and

utter darkness when sleeping, but to get to watch the sea

go by anytime I want--? Special Treat, for sure.
__________

hanging out in my window-seat (I decided), wearing my uniform. Startled my

cabinmate when she realized I was behind the curtain. What.
__________

crew stairways. Markedly different than passenger stairways, but cool.

__________

crew main thoroughfare, nicknamed the M-1 (which won't make any

sense unless you're from England, or also crew, of course)
__________

This was the first thing I saw when I walked into the Teen Center, where I

would end up spending half my working time... and therefore happily. Sigh. Daniel...
__________

crew deck. I love to be out there, whether sun or rain or, in this case, fog
__________

crew pool. Covered. Sad. :(
__________

Canadian teens at the Mocktail competition. Ohhh, teenagers. Most

fun I had all cruise, though. Well, "working"-fun.
__________

Indoor Lotus Spa pool and hot tubs, site of the Farewell (after 2 1/2 whole days)

Teen Hot Tub party. Fortunately, these were marching band kids.
__________

very cold windy deck on my way 'home' from work. There's another cruise

ship off in the distance there, which is always comforting as potential rescue

in the chance we hit an iceberg. Which has happened to me. Albeit in Alaska,

but it happened. (another story for another time)
__________

best for last...

I love love love flying. Where else do you get to see clouds like this?

Oh and by the way, I am done with working on ships. Again.

JUSTICE

...is about to be served! Or hopefully sometime very soon!

MY PASSPORT WAS FOUND in the possession of a man picked up for car theft!!!! I was tracked down by a detective through my brother (uh.. apparently, I hadn't filled out the "please keep these entries up to date" contact info section of the passport??) this afternoon and I just went to pick it up-- the man who had it is in custody, and I saw his picture-- he is a scary scary looking man. I said to the detective, "No, I don't know him... but he doesn't look very kind". She said "He's not". Gross and scary that he (or his friends/partners in crime) were in our house.

BUT-- how amazing is it that they actually have a LEAD, then, on who could have burglarized our house! If it's not him, this dude MUST have some info to share. But the fact that they also found car keys on him for the same make of cars as Eva's and Erin's, gives some pretty solid evidence! (and lets them breathe easier! Once a car thief, always a car thief, after all... it could have been just a matter of time before he decided to come take theirs...)

HAH HAH HAH, thief-man!!! I hope you rot behind bars, at least for a while. And I hope that I don't have to go into the Witness Protection Program to keep myself safe when you get out. Haven't exactly gone to a line-up yet or testified against him in court as he gives me Pit of Hell looks from across the room and memorizes my face, but you never know.

AND-- I got my PASSPORT back!! Never mind that I just picked up my new one, yesterday... or that, now that I look at it, all those stamps/visas aren't as great as I remember them, huh... but-- I GOT IT BACK!! And it didn't get sent to the National Passport Center, where it would have been destroyed and not returned to me. Good thing he/they took it, actually, the detective said that the only thing with any identification on it when they searched his house was my passport and two pieces of paper with my name on it... how would they ever have known to connect him with us?? And hopefully-- HOPEFULLY-- we'll be able to track down some of our stolen stuff, especially Erin's laptop!!

HAH. Seriously hope he rots, and/or rehabilitates. By the look of his face in the mugshot, though, he has NOT been reading my stolen scriptures.

Sooooo grateful.... a lot to be thankful for, today... :)

I'm no Tyra Banks, but...

On this gorgeous stretch of raw coastline up the central coast of California, there's a disgusting infestation of elephant seals. At first they're kinda cute, little content smiles and furry pelts and all, and then you get a whiff of the smell (stench) and hear the braying of angry males, and the romance is just gone.

Fully entertaining to watch, though. Check out this dude trying soooo hard

to drag his gut up the beach--

Stacy and I had spring break the same week, so we spent a few days in the central coast area, visiting Solvang, San Luis Obispo and surrounding areas, including Hearst Castle in San Simeon. Near the castle is this beach, where a bajillion elephant seals congregate for some unknown reason (baffling to scientists, too) and about a gazillion tourists come to observe, standing behind a protective clothesline barrier. And take a bunch of photos of a bunch of fat seals.

I think I'm going to title this one "Friends Forever" and send it out as a greeting card to all of you, at least those of you who are my friends. Because nothing says friendship like lying there fat and happy in the sun, spooning face to foot. And smelling like elephant seal poo.

Or this one might be a better depiction (if I were to name the seals on the card), because some of you are kinda mouthy.

but now, the real purpose of this blog:

ELEPHANT SEAL POSE CONTEST 2009

Here I am doing my best impersonation of an elephant seal. Pretty spot-on, I'd say.

Here's Stacy being an excellent sport. I said, "Get down

on the ground and lie there like an elephant seal," and she did.

That's a great traveling buddy... and quite a good imitation of

those seals. Maaayyybe a little better than mine.

I think the big winner, though, is definitely this little seal here.

He did a freakishly accurate imitation of this beached tourist I photographed in

St. Maarten a few years ago:

I mean, WOW. UN - CANNY. How did he know??

But who am I to decide who wins?? Take my poll and vote for your favorite!

(If there was another poll to take, asking "who is more annoying, Tyra Banks or

an elephant seal", I would vote Tyra Banks, btw. Ugh.)

the new It Girl

... is DANA!!

It's no secret that I love It's-its, the San Francisco Treat (not to be confused with Rice-a-Roni) that is a delicious scoop of ice cream, mint-flavored if you're lucky, sandwiched between two thin oatmeal cookies and enrobed in a thin chocolate coating, and frozen to perfection. If you've never had one, you're missing out, and you've probably not participated in one of our yearly treks to Yosemite, because that's when we always get them-- they ain't low-fat, but you toooootally deserve one after a 14-mile hike.

So, really I only eat them once or twice a year (depending on how many times I go to Yosemight)... which means, maybe my tender love for them IS a secret... maybe I've only ever once mentioned them on this blog... and they are super-hard to find here in the Southland... but still, somehow DANA KNEW. And what did she do??

She brought over a "Sorry you got robbed" gift to us of precious, rare It's-it(s)!! How much do we love her???

(by the way, I didn't get a whole package and Eva just one... the package was a 3-pack, one for each of us, Eva is just really piggy and wanted to eat hers right away, never mind the photo.)

.

Maybe if the robbers come back, we can give them a "sorry the 10 pairs of sunglasses you took were crap!" gift. Oh, but again-- don't come back. Unless you want a punch to the face. Etc.

IMPORTANT NOTE, by the way--

for those worried parties... my signed Robert Pattinson photo

was NOT taken, fortunately it was in another drawer. Whew!!