South Florida Kayaking Vacation

I left work at 4 p.m. to head over to Drew's place, jump in his truck with George and drive to Florida.  But as I was walking out of the newsroom, everyone started clapping.  I was given my first ever "clap out."  And it suddenly hit me.  My eyes were red and full as I waited for the elevator and the girl from the the magazines department also waiting stared at her feet nervously.  We didn't know each other and she wasn't about to ask why I looked on the verge of a breakdown.

A few deep breaths and some fresh air later, I pulled myself together.  I walked awkwardly to my car with a huge bag of my desk possessions, the vase and flower from Elizabeth at work, chocolates from June and all the photos I'd had taped around my desk.  Luckily, the day was beautiful with sunshine and a warm breeze.  By the time I made it to Drew's, I was feeling much better.

We left for Florida a little after 5.  Drew needed to do some work on his iPhone and George hadn't slept in 2 days, so I drove the entire way to Jacksonville where we stayed with another Charlotte ONE friend, Kyle.  He was very nice to put us up so last minute, especially since we didn't get there until after midnight.  The boys took the long L-shaped couch, and I got the guest bedroom, because I'm the girl. :)

With the sunset at Matlacha.

The next morning Drew drove us to breakfast at Waffle House and the three of us remarked that it was the nicest Waffle House we'd ever seen.  All the cooks and waitresses looked like our grandmothers.  When we left, I drove the rest of the way to Cape Coral, FL where Drew needed to meet with one of his kayak suppliers (he's a kayak fisherman and designer of the Coosa kayak which is sold at many different outdoor stores).  It was going to take him a couple hours to do what he needed to do there, so George and I took the car over to Matlacha Island which is like a little hippie town with crazy colored buildings that sell unique jewelry, artwork and best of all, homemade ice cream.

On our way back to get Drew, we stopped at the edge off a lake or bay and watched the sunset.  It was so beautiful and made a perfect ending to our first day in Florida.

George with the sunset near Matlacha.

Drew drove the last 1.5 hrs to the Port of the Islands resort in the Everglades.  They were supposed to provide us and the rest of Drew's fishing crew who met us there with free stay at the resort which is in a perfect location for kayak fishing but there ending up being a confusion and they were all booked up.  Instead, they put us up in a Fairfield Inn about 20 min away and gave us 3 free meals at their resort.  That night we used our first meal.  I had mahi-mahi and it was absolutely amazing.  Everyone thoroughly enjoyed our meal and we didn't get back to our hotel until about 11 p.m.

The fishing crew consisted of Drew; the Jackson Kayak marketing director James from Canada; Ben from Louisiana; Damon from Vermont and his dad Al from Savannah.  Later another Ben and a girl named Sarah joined.  My role was to be the journalist/photographer and George's was to help out with anything they needed and to keep me company. lol

On the Naples beach.

On Saturday, Drew had to run some errands in Ft. Myers, so he dropped Geroge and me off at the beach in Naples.  It was soooo beautiful.  The sand was so white and the water was a beautiful blue-green.  You could tell that we were in FL though because hardly anyone was in the water.  It was too cold for native Floridians. lol  George and I got in after a while in the warm sun.  Then we ran a mile on the beach barefoot, and then the water felt amazing.  Our legs, however, suffered for that run for the next three days. lol  Even though I run a mile almost every day, running in wet sand is completely different and muscles I didn't know I had were achy.

Drew picked us up about 3 hours later and we went back to the hotel and changed.  Then the three of us drove back to the Port of the Islands resort where George hung out by the pool there, and Drew and I drove to Everglades City where we found a little channel to put some kayaks in the water and paddle around for an hour before dark.

We practically got eaten alive by mosquitoes on the bank while preparing the kayaks to go in the water.  Once on the water, however, they weren't quite as bad.  Drew says they don't usually hang out above the water because they are likely to get eaten by fish or frogs or something.  Personally, I was more worried about alligators.   I know they spook easily, but I still don't think seeing one up close and personal from a little kayak would be a pleasurable experience.

Kayaking for the first time w/Drew in the Everglades.

Luckily, we saw a few birds, but that was about it.  Drew didn't have much luck fishing, but we both enjoyed seeing the mangroves and testing out his kayak.  One of the unique features about his Coosa is that you can stand up on it so you have a better view of the water around you and you can cast your line easier.  I stood up once, but  when I tried to sit down, the boat got a little shaky, so I stayed seated after that.

We picked up George just at dark and then went back to the Fairfield where we met up with James and Ben.  The five of us went to a Mexican restaurant nearby for dinner.

On Sunday, Drew went fishing with the crew and left George and me his truck.  George and I drove to Ft. Lauderdale across Alligator Ally to see my Uncle John.  And can you believe it - we didn't see one alligator!

When we got to Uncle John's, we chatted a bit and then he took us to a little park where a boardwalk goes through mangroves and ends in an area where you can picnic or play sports.  After that he drove us up A1A, the beachfront avenue to see the beach and all the people and shops and hotels.  By then we were getting hungry so we went to Shooters, a restaurant on a wide channel right by the ocean.  We all had mahi-mahi sandwiches and it was delicious.

We still had an hour left on our parking meter, so we walked the 2 blocks to the beach and George and I took off our shoes and waded around while Uncle John sat on the beach and enjoyed the day.  The whole time we've been here the high has been about 80 with a breeze - absolutely perfect weather.

As we were walking through the pristine water, George said, "Man, for a second there I completely forgot we were on a fishing trip with Drew."  It was just one of those days - a transportation to a different time and place.

When we were done, we came back to Uncle John's and both guys took naps while I worked on the computer.  Then my mom's best friend from her college days, Sarah, called to say that she and her husband Ben would be back in Hollywood, FL soon and that we should come down to all do dinner together.  We met them at their place around 6 and drove to Hollywood beach where we walked along the beachfront pedestrian road and talked as the sun went down and lights came on.  I took pictures of all of us together and after walking for some distance, we turned back to find a place to eat.  Right before we went to this amazing Turkish place for dinner, we stopped by the public restrooms in a beachfront park.

At the restaurant I had a gyro that reminded me of Greece, which I miss nearly every day.  Then we went to a souvenir shop for George to get some things for friends.

Once we returned to Sarah's it was already after 9 so we said our goodbyes and returned to Uncle John's and George and I left about 10 p.m. to drive back to Naples.  On the car ride back we both discussed what a great day it had been.  I was feeling so happy and light.  But that changed when we got back.  George went down to use the hotel computers and I started unpacking my purse as I looked for my camera to upload the photos.  The camera was nowhere to be found and I knew instantly that I had lost it.  I called Uncle John, and he didn't have it anywhere.  I e-mailed Sarah, but I was sure that I had not left it in her car.  The more i thought about it the more sure I was of its whereabouts.  I'd left it on the back of that bathroom door in the park on Hollywood beach.

When George got back to the room, I was sitting on the floor with the contents of my purse spread around me, my face in my hands, tears rolling off my chin.  He tried to be positive "Oh it's prob. in someone's car" etc., but I knew.  I just knew.  Plus, there are only 3 other people who really know how much that camera means to me.  Enrique, Carmen and Theresa - my three foreign friends who went on the cross country road trip with me last summer.  They knew how much I loved that camera and thus started referring to it as "my baby."  And now, "my baby" and all my pictures from the last few months are in some stranger's hands.  It's almost like an invasion of privacy - they know what I look like, who my friends are, what events I've been to lately.  It's an icky feeling.

I'd like to think that if my name and number were on the camera that someone would have tried to return it.  Though it's unlikely - particularly in south Florida.  But they weren't, so either way it is gone and I will have to buy a new camera at some point.  (And yes, I tried calling the restaurant and souvenir shop to no avail.)

A cool bird by the docks at Cape Coral.

On Monday Drew had to take his car and thus, George and I were stuck at the Fairfield which is not within walking distance to anything except their small pool in front of the hotel.  It was a bad day to have nothing to do since I was in a little funk from losing my camera and wanted to get my mind off it.  But we laid out, swam in the pool and watched "Hitch" on tv.  Finally Drew got back and we all went to dinner at Port of the Islands again.  This time, I had salmon, which was also quite delicious.  Key lime pie for dessert made me especially happy - key lime pie is just not the same anywhere else. 

On Tuesday we had to get up very early - 6:15 a.m. - in order to eat breakfast and leave for Cape Coral by 7 a.m.  We were moving to the VillageMarina Resort up in Cape Coral (owned by the same company as Port of the Islands) in hopes that the fishing would be better than what the crew was finding in the everglades.  We arrived at the VillageMarina marina at 8 a.m. and waited around for the fog to lift.  It was an eerie sight - the fog hung really low over the water and everything had a muted feel.  Some resort staff that set up the free stay for us took George and I on a speed boat while Drew, James, Damon and Al kayaked out.  I had Drew's awesome camera and took photos of them fishing as the boat slowly idled in front of them.  The fog was still present, though just starting to lift by the time we got out there.  It gave all the photos a diffused glow and soft box effect.

Drew and some of his fishing friends.

When the kayakers went down a shallow channel that we couldn't follow, we boated over to where they would come out and just enjoyed the sun and talked.  Michelle, the marketing director for the resort chain, was a lot of fun and we all had a good time.  Finally, the fog lifted all the way and we could fully appreciate the beauty around us.  A bay led to the gulf in one direction, and mangroves surrounded a huge sand bar right were the kayakers were about to emerge.

We decided the photos would be best if we could get out and walk on the sandbar to get photos of them, so we anchored the boat right by the sandbar and got out.  The water ranged from ankle deep to right below the knee, and it was crystal clear.  We were told to watch out for stingrays, but it would have been easy to spot them if they were there.  After a bunch of photos, those of us who were on the speed boat got to try out the kayaks in turn.  I got much better at standing on the Coosa and even standing while paddling.  I could see why the ability to stand was so important for a fisherman - you could see so clearly where the fish were, especially in this beautiful water.

Drew fishing.

After all the videos and photos were done, Michelle and the other resort staffers took George and me back to the marina.  Michelle hooked us up with two 3 bedroom suites and brought George and me to  the one we'd be sharing with Drew.  It was seriously the most amazing hotel I've ever seen with my own eyes.  We had a full kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a big dining room table, a full living room, a screened in balcony that could be accessed from the living room or 2 of the bedrooms, a master bedroom with a king bed and a closet that you could sleep in and a bathroom bigger than my room at home (that is the room I got), a second bedroom and bath with 2 double beds where George occupied, and a 3rd bedroom with another king and full bath.  There were more closets and linen closets than I think we have in our whole house in Charlotte.  Every counter had granite counter tops and tile covered every floor except the bedrooms.  It was certainly bigger than the house we had in Miami.

A tiny crab on a leaf that George found and I photographed.

Anyway, I tried to keep my jaw from dropping as Michelle showed us around.  We were on the 5th floor and the view from the patio was amazing  - the pool, marina, harbor and beyond.  You could see dolphin fins splashing in the bay.

After relaxing a bit, George and I went and checked out the place  They had a huge slightly heated pool, a hot tub, a little "village" with shops and a spa, ping pong, free bike rentals, a huge exercise room, a business center with computers, a free water taxi to take you to Ft. Myers beach most days....yeah, it was just ridiculous. 

We hung out by the pool for a while and used a coupon that was in our welcome package to get a buy one get one free gelato.  Since George and I had been in Ft. Lauderdale for one of our comped meals at the first hotel, we'd asked Michelle if we could have a comped meal here.  She agreed and put $50 credit on our room card.  We ate at the restaurant downstairs that night.  I had mahi-mahi again, and yes, it was again amazing.  lol  I figure, if you're eating at nice restaurants like this for free in south Florida, you should always get fish.  George had steak.

After dinner, George took a nap and I read and watched Glee while all the fishing crew went back to Naples to get their stuff to come back to the resort in Cape Coral and stay here.  (Originally, just George and I were going to stay since we were leaving from the Ft. Myers airport on Wed - but when the others saw the new place and were given the chance to stay here for free, they took it).  At about 9 George and I went to the hot tube and met a Canadian couple and a couple from Minnesota who talked about sailing nearly the whole time.  lol

the clear water of the sand shoal in Cape Coral, Fla.

Finally, we went up and I was just about to go to bed when Drew got back.  The next morning George and I were to go out kayaking with Drew and James to get some good footage for a different line of Jackson Kayaks - the "Journey."  It is being marketed as a kayak for beginners and advanced kayakers, so they wanted to show how beginners like George and I could easily maneuver them.

George and me kayaking in Cape Coral.

We went out to the same area we'd gone the day before when we were on the speed boat.  It was a lot of fun and really beautiful.  In the shallow water I saw blue crabs, horseshoe crabs, stingrays and dolphins in the distance.  We also saw ibises, egrets, blue herrings, cranes and other beautiful birds.  When the shooting was done, George and I paddled back to the marina and he started packing his stuff to go home.  Originally, my flight had been on Wednesday afternoon as well, but I canceled it to get a flight credit so that I could stay in FL a few extra days and help Drew drive back Saturday.  If I'd known he was coming back that soon when I'd first decided to come, I wouldn't have booked a flight at all.  But, at least this will force me to do more traveling in future. :)  Maybe I can use it toward a trip to Spain....

Takin' a break.

So I took George to the airport, came back and started writing a story about Drew for the Observer.  I will also be writing one for Kayak Angler magazine about what kayak fishing is like from an outside perspective.  When Drew and crew got back from fishing that evening, Drew, James, Damon, Al and I all went down to the restaurant.  I had my bathing suit on under my dress as I planned to swim while they ate (I knew I couldn't afford to eat there) but Al insisted that I eat with them and that he'd pay.  Al (Damon's dad) was in the army for 23 years and you don't argue with him. lol  I got pasta with shrimp and it was very good.

Afterward, we all went in the hot tub, which should really be called a burn tub because it was scalding.  I ended up in the pool after a few minutes.

This morning (Thurs) the guys left very early to meet a guide to go fishing in a different spot.  We had to switch rooms today so I went and checked us out and moved all our bags to the new room.  About 4 p.m. James, Drew and I will be leaving to drive to Ft. Lauderdale and stay with Uncle John tonight.  James has a flight back to Canada very early Sat morning and thus it would be easier to already be there.  Only Damon and Al will stay tonight in this beautiful hotel.

Tomorrow after we drop James at the airport, we'll drive to Jacksonville again where I will hang out with Kyle and Drew will go fishing.  On Saturday Drew had to give a demonstration of his Coosa kayak at 2 p.m. then have dinner with some of the people there afterward.  Kyle said he can prob. take me to the beach or something.  We'll either drive back to Charlotte Sat. after Drew's dinner or Sunday morning.  It is very nice of Kyle to let us stay again.

Phew, that was long.  Anyway, figured I had to give a detailed account since this is my first real trip in six months.

I write this from the balcony of the new room were I am looking at a river leading away from the marina cutting through nothing but green trees and mangroves.  It is a more peaceful view and also very beautiful.  Too bad I don't have a camera to take a photo.  Anyway, I'm off to spend my last couple hours here reading by the pool.

~~~~

On Thursday after the guys returned form fishing, Drew, James and I drove to Ft. Lauderdale where Uncle John had prepared an amazing soup for our dinner.  We were all pretty tired, so we went to bed early.  Uncle John had to get up early for work, and Drew had to take James to the airport very early.  Drew then returned and we both slept until 9 a.m.  We ate breakfast and then rolled out sometime after 10 to head up to West Palm Beach where Drew had to drop off a kayak.  While there, I got the oil changed as a thank you for the trip, and then we continued on to Jacksonville.

When we arrived, Kyle took us to a restaurant called Karma that was very good.  They had the best sweet potato fries I'd ever consumed.  After dinner, we all went to a party where Kyle's friends were having a bonfire and game night.  There were about 14 of us and we had a great time playing catchphrase, then some of us played Guesstures.  The group reminded me a lot of the CharlotteONE group here in Charlotte, and I liked all of them immediately. 

With Kyle at the Kingfish Grille.

The next morning, Drew got up very early to go fishing in Jax.  Kyle and I slept in and then went to the gym (where they were kind enough to let me in).  From there we headed to one of the beaches near St. Augustine.  It was a beautiful day and I enjoyed sitting in the sunshine and listening to the waves and talking with Kyle.  From there we went to a restaurant for lunch called Kingfish Grille that was right on a boat harbor.  I had mahi-mahi....again. lol  But, it was very good.  Finally, we went to old town St. Augustine and just walked around.  The day was so nice I really didn't want to go into any of the shops.  Kyle got ice cream, but I was so full from lunch I passed. 

By the St. Augustine fort.

It started to get a bit chilly on the drive back a little after 5 with the top down on Kyle's mustang, but otherwise, it was just the right temperature all day long.

Drew was already back when we got home.  We decided to watch a movie, order pizza for dinner, then go to a bar to watch the UFC fight.  I was not thrilled about that part of the plan, but Drew really wanted to see it.  By the time we got home, Kyle and I were completely exhausted and we all slept in until about 10 a.m. on Sunday.

Sunday, Drew and I planned to go to the Jax beach with Kyle and his friends and then head back to Charlotte.  However, Drew could not find his keys.  After checking everywhere, we drove to the bar we'd been the night before which was close to the beach, and still they could not be found.  Drew started calling Jax Toyota dealers and finally found one that was open on a Sunday which would make him a key for $8.  So, poor Kyle had to drive us back from the beach earlier than he wanted to leave, get the title from Drew's car, drive us another 45 minutes to the dealership, and then back.  I felt really bad for him, but he's so nice he wouldn't complain.  Drew bought us both lunch at a really good Mexican place as a "thank you" for our trouble, and we finally headed out about 4 p.m. 


On the drive back, there was a fatal accident that had us virtually stalled on the interstate for 2 hours.  We didn't get back home until 12:30 a.m. - but at least we made it safely. 

Bitter-Sweet Goodbye

Today is my last day at work, and yes, it is bitter-sweet.  It is a beautiful day of about 70 with spring in the air.  I'm about to leave for Florida and my things are packed.  And even though I know I'll be okay, and have plenty of work as a freelancer, it's the newsroom people I will dearly miss.  I knew I would miss my close friends here - Cleve and Jessy in particular - but there were others I didn't expect that I'm just now realizing how much I'll miss them. 

Today, one of the editors I work with told me I'm "just about the nicest person she's ever met" in all sincerity.  Then she gave me a beautiful little hand-thrown pottery flower holder with flowers and a card.  Practically made me tear up. 

On the other hand, I'm rather excited to be leaving.  I'm ready to travel again and make my own schedule.  I also have that thrill of expectation.  Like standing on the edge of a cliff and peeking over to see what's at the bottom - and whether or not you'll jump.  It's the fear and joy of the unknown.  So many possibilities.  Sort of like being single after being in a relationship for a while.  Or maybe that's just the way I feel...lol

Also, I'm hoping very sincerely to make it abroad soonish.   I miss Europe something terrible and I really, truly want to see some of the beautiful cities in southern Spain. 

So, I'm sure I'll have updates from Florida, but until then....

A Love That Will Never Leave Me

It was a summer of firsts: my first trip to England, the first summer home after a year of college, my first boyfriend, and in a sense, my first love. 

"Chad" and I started dating the day I arrived home from UNC that summer.  He was tall, blond, handsome, smart, and absolutely adored me.  How could a girl ask for more?  The first half of the summer went by in a hazy bliss and I didn’t know enough to wonder if I was missing something.  Together, we envisioned wedding bells and happily-ever-afters.  Then one day, my mother handed me a newspaper clipping.  It advertised an Argentine tango class that took place every Monday night at Patou Bistro near uptown with dancing afterward.  “I thought maybe this would interest you,” she said, “since you seem to enjoy salsa so much at school.” 

Freshman year had indeed been eye-opening where my dancing was concerned.  I went from a world of tap, jazz, and ballet and found myself involved in ballroom with salsa on the side.  I loved the energy in partner dancing, the feeling of togetherness that you cannot find in the solitary dances I grew up with.  I’d never heard of Argentine tango, but I knew I enjoyed ballroom tango, so I figured we could try it out. 

Tango Art by Guillermo (Bill) Temples. passionfortango.com

When Chad and I opened the door to Patou’s that night, it was like stepping into a different world.  I stood fascinated as I watched couples floating by me in a dreamlike trance.  Their torsos and cheeks were pressed together, their legs moved in synchronization – they even breathed as one.  I watched as the women’s legs seemed to stretch for miles behind their hips, balancing only on their toes and leaving three-inch heels hovering above the ground – complete faith that the men they were leaning into would not drop them. 

The place was warm and musky; smoke hung above the nearby bar and the orangey lighting kept the atmosphere close, and embracing.  The music was in a plane of its own.  The melancholy and enticing whine of the accordion accompanied by the bitter-sweet sounds of the Spanish guitar tore a person between the desire to fall in love, or to cry.  In that moment, I chose love. 

I believed Chad to be as spellbound as I was.  After several minutes, the class began, and the music was turned down for the instructor to assemble everyone into lines.  In that first 50 minute class, we learned how to walk.  Yes, walk.  Walking, evenly and with the music, is the basic principle for Argentine tango – but I wanted more.  I wanted to do what I had just witnessed.  To find oneness and sexiness that transcends vulgar and escalates to a heavenly beauty.  This beginner’s class was not either of those things.  I became even more frustrated when I realized Chad was struggling – with walking!  I tried to correct, and he felt ashamed (though I did not realize it at the time), so after the class was over he sat at the bar and I tried out my newfound walking skills with old-timers.  I sucked up every morsel of new knowledge they shared with me like a sponge. 

Dancing came easily to me – it was hard then to realize how fortunate I was, and how difficult it was for someone like Chad who had never danced before.  Every couple songs I’d ask Chard to dance, but in his embarrassment he turned me down and pretended it was no big deal.  He told me he didn’t mind, and I willingly believed him.  Finally, I stopped asking. 

I danced with many different men, making new friends left and right, learning new techniques, and every once in a while, reaching the outer fringe of the oneness I sought. 

It was when I danced with Guillermo that I felt my world truly shift.  He led me with power and gentleness combined.  My feet were taking directions my head had not given them.  My body felt light and graceful, and then all was silent except for the music.  Each heartbeat was a step, and with our chests pressed together, I wasn’t sure anymore where my heartbeat began, and his left off.  My nerves started to ebb.  A long whine on the accordion would indicate a long sweep of my back leg, though I’m not sure how it knew to do that.  But a good tango lead can make your body do things without your permission.  Trust is formed in the span of one dance.  The bond a good leader and follower create together cannot be broken – for the length of that song, you are in love.  And you truly are – with the dance. 

Tango is not a dance to be taken lightly.  It is not a casual pastime.  It is a life; a life of commitment, love, passion, and soul.  That first night, I could not put that concept into words.  I did not know what I had just stumbled into, but I felt a change.  My heart swelled and seemed to overflow.  When I realized it was time to go home, I had to fight tears.  Looking at Chad, anger and jealousy raging behind his blue eyes, I realized what our relationship did not have.  I was not in love with Chad, for in the span of three hours, I had fallen in love with tango, and that felt ten times stronger than the last month and a half spent with my first boyfriend. 

Driving home that night, I was sad.  The elation I felt on the dance floor only heightened the pain I felt now.  Chad was terribly jealous; he didn’t want to dance anymore and he didn’t want me to dance with other men like that ever again.  I knew that was a promise I could not make, and thus I saw the future of our relationship ending – over one night of Argentine tango. 

Five years later, my first true love has still not left me wanting.  I can always find the oneness now, thanks to Guillermo’s teaching.  I feel the music in my core; I can anticipate my partner’s next move before he makes it.  I can mold my body into another’s without feeling awkward and self-conscious and my feet do things I never thought they could do (though I’m still not consciously controlling them). 

I have been in love since Chad (with actual men, not dances) but it was the tango that really taught me how that felt – it was easier to find after that.  But love with men comes and goes: the love of tango will never leave me.

Travels with Charley

I'm reading Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck and oh how I love it!  His thoughts about America are so akin to my own, though he also makes me wish in some ways that I could've traversed the country alone as I did in Europe - that way I'd be forced to meet and rely on  more strangers.  At the same time, having someone to map-read for me allowed more observations of the landscape than if I was constantly fiddling with and worrying about a map.  But that is neither here nor there - the point is, that in reading this delightful book, it has repeatedly struck me as sad that John is dead and I can therefore never do so much as write him a letter to tell the old man what a delight the book has given me.  One day in heaven, I do hope we will meet  - for I think despite a difference of many decades, we are kindred spirits.

He has made me very eager to go to New England and travel there as well as to see the dells and topography of Wisconsin.  Montana also made the kind of impression on dear old John that it made on me - an amazing spectacle that words cannot do justice.  He says it will remain forever as his favorite state in our great nation.  It is certainly a state about which I remember saying "I can't wait to come back here and just spend time."  Preferably something in the 2 to 3 week range.  I feel spending an expanse of time in a place like Montana would do the heart immense good.  It is so...wholesome.  The rolling hills with rocky cliffs and hidden caves beg to be explored.  Then there are the grasslands that extend for miles in gentle slopes and perhaps it was just me, but I so desperately wanted to mount a horse (bareback perhaps) and gallop across those fields to see where I ended up. 

Steinbeck also made a point about the redwoods.  That no painting, picture or description has ever done them justice.  And it is absolutely true.  In my blog I remember saying that nothing can prepare you for the immensity, the awe inspiring beauty and grandeur that are the redwoods.  John added to that and talked about the light among the redwoods.  Something I had observed, but not put words too.  The way the daylight is like the haziness of dawn until noon at which point it pours like rain through the canopy in yellow-green impressionist speckles to the forest floor.  The light all around you becomes infused with color and you feel trapped in a Seurat painting.  Then, shortly after noon, the light becomes that of dusk, and stays that way until nightfall. 

I remember drive through the forests around 6 p.m. and thinking that it sure was dark earlier than usual.  Once emerging from the trees, the light lasted another hour or so - while inside I'd felt certain blackness would descend at any minute. 

A last observation and lamentation made by Steinbeck concerned the American language.  He noticed (and this was in '62) how the varied American dialects were slowly going by the wayside due to the uniform speech infiltrating the country via radio and TV.  Being a "great lover of language and words" he said it saddened him to hear the distinctness of an area losing itself to the generality of the masses, even though his logical self knew that this was a product of greater education and communication. 

I too can understand his lamentations.  Even British accents have become less poignant than they were a hundred years ago.  The idea that our country's individuality is losing itself to a generality saddens me as well.  If Steinbeck noticed it 50 years ago, I cannot imagine how much worse it would seem to him today.  With globalization like it has never been before, it will only be a matter of time when nearly everyone speaks English with a bland, unoriginal accent.  And, I agree with Steinbeck - something will be lost.

Sunshine After the Storm

This week feels like the sunshine after the storm.  It is a wonderful week.  I have been happy every day, and when people walk by me at work and begin to give me the "aww, you poor kicked puppy" look due to the layoff last week, their faces change halfway as they realize I no longer look like a kicked puppy dog.  As the Rascal Flats classic says, "I'm moving on." 

I'm actually thrilled about the idea of freelancing for the Observer - setting my own schedule, writing the stories I want to write and hopefully picking up some travel writing and dance writing for other print entities.  I may even get into some copy editing. 

Apart from all the options both known and unknown (which are very exciting don't you think?  Not knowing where you might be in a few months but knowing it could be great...quite thrilling), anyway, apart from those happy-inspiring thoughts, it also looks as though I may be the official photographer for a trip to Florida with some friends of mine leaving after work on my last official day.  Talk about perfect timing!

If it works out, my friend, who is a kayak fisherman who has developed his own kayak which allows for shallow water fishing and standing up on the kayak, will be driving down next Thursday evening and Friday to Naples, FL for a expense-paid fishing expedition.  Our friend George and another girl will also be in attendance.  There was a 4th, but she bailed so it looks like I'll be able to fill her spot!  I am SO ready for sunshine and ocean!  Though given the paleness of my skin, my friends will probably need sunglasses just to look at my florescence. 

While there I'm hoping I'll have time to rent a car and drive to Hollywood, FL to visit my "Aunt" Sarah and her husband Ben as well as my Uncle John.  If not, perhaps they can come see me. 

Though I must say, it would be really neat to drive through the Everglades so close to where my family (a couple generations back) owned many acres that they ended up selling to the government.  In fact, Great Uncle Bud had the only landing strip in the Everglades which the government used whenever they wanted to visit and survey.  He also invented the swamp buggy - a jeep with huge wheels that could drive through the swampy areas.  And he helped Florida Power and Light string telephone poles through there.  Oh, and he used to feed alligators with marshmallows out of his hand.  I'm not making this stuff up, I swear. 

Anyway, not only will this be a really awesome trip, but I should have much to write about and hopefully some beautiful photos. 

The Loneliness of Dusk & Inspiration of Night

A blueish light creeps through the open blinds of this eerily silent house.  The dim hue gives the place an even lonelier feel, intensifying the quiet and pressing a feeling of sadness upon me.  Or perhaps, not sadness, but loss.  Like with the day's departure, I am losing something I shall never get back.  Maybe I'm losing something I never actually acquired - just had the possibility to acquire, and didn't. 

I suppose the end of every day would feel as such, if I were alone in this big empty house.  But usually, the blinds aren't open at this time, and the florescent bulbs create a false, cheery bravado to accompany the TV which usually blares with laughter and voices.  The things people use to ward off the loneliness of dusk.

Now, through the window, I watch as the tree line, crowned in a soft yellow-blue, gradually descents into a deeper blue, eventually to be replaced with black.

Perhaps it is worse today because of the quality of the day.  A rare 65 degree day in early February - especially after feeling the harsh hand of winter hit us again and again.  The sky - cloudless, the air - sweet, the sun - warm.  It was the kind of day with endless possibilities, of which I feel now that I did not take full advantage of.

Honestly, I spent most of today's glory inside.  At church I saw friends and heard a great message, at my grandparent's house I passed time and swapped stories, at Amalie's French Bakery, I took part in a monthly tango dance and saw people I had not seen in a long time.

It was certainly a worthwhile day, but when the day is so glorious and it happens to fall on a Sunday, perhaps it would have been better spent at a park, walking barefoot through the grass.  Or in the back yard, reading on a beach towel.  Or taking a long, luxurious drive with the windows down and your hair blowing into a frenzy of its own.

Night does not feel lonely like dusk does.  I have never been afraid of the dark.  In fact, I've reveled in it for many a year.  That stillness is different.  It is a stillness that you are privy to, not forced to endure.  It is a stillness of people, but an awakening of animals, insects and most fascinatingly, stars.  I've always wondered how one could feel alone looking up at the stars.  Knowing that the people before you and the ones after you will stare up and wonder at those same, glittering, magical orbs like diamonds on black velvet.  The night sky renders thoughts of stories, past lives, future endeavors.  It makes one feel much less important than modern society tells us we are.  And perhaps that's why God gave us stars - as a way of humbling mere creatures like us.  But also as a way of inspiring us.  Who is not inspired by a brilliantly starry night?  Like a high mountain view or the sun sinking into the ocean, it cannot help but make us say "wow."  Some of us say it aloud - I'm one of these.  Others just let it sink into their hearts by way of their eyes.  Wishing, somehow, that they could carry it away, as we always long to do with things we love.

Those who say the night sky does not render such an effect on them are one of two things - not really looking, or denying their mortality.  Somehow, I can't imagine a human being could have a heart hard enough that a long, searching look into the night sky would not penetrate.  Somewhere, it must cause at least a tiny crack in coldness, brutality, pompousness and innumerable other failings of the human nature.

And if this is the goodness of the night sky, we must ask ourselves - when was the last time we really looked at it?  Or went somewhere to see it, since light pollution makes its glories subdued and hazy?  If I am honest, for me it was this summer as I tripped through middle America and was caught unawares as I stepped out of my tent for a late-night bathroom run in a Texas national park.  It's been...nearly six months since then.  It happens every night, but it's been half a year since I stopped to stare at its majesty.

So let's make it a mission this week - to be mesmerized by the stars. 

The Roller Coaster of My Life

I think the best way to explain life lately is a sort of day-by-day:

Thursday 1-27: 
It started out as a bit of a bummer day b/c Jessy was supposed to go see Billy Elliot the musical with me but ended up pretty sick.  I emailed all my friends to see who could accompany me, and my friend Alissa who went to London with me Freshman year said she could come.  We met at Hawthorne's for pizza and then headed to the theater.

When I saw it in London in '09 I remember not understanding all the words because they had such thick Glasgow-area accents.  They had the same accents in this version, but a little more toned town - perhaps because they simply aren't as good at them - but either way, it was easier for me to understand.  Alissa said she still had a problem understanding many of the words though.


The little boy who played Billy was so excellent.  He is going to be such an amazing dancer one day (I mean, he already is, but when he can take his current skills and build on them in a grown man's body....wow).  Not only was he an excellent ballet dancer, but his tapping was pretty stunning as well.  Even the coal miner men donned tap shoes and put on a couple impressive tap numbers.


Anyway, it was really great catching up more with Alissa.  I feel like we're going to become better friends in the future and I'm happy about that.  She was the only student in the London '06 trip that did not go to UNC and I don't think we were able to get to know each other as well as we'd have liked.


I must admit, however, that watching that musical made me long for London - as so many things do these days.  I'm so good at pretending I'm transported back in time, but when the lights came on and everyone around me was speaking un-accented English, the pretending faded.


Friday 1-28:
I met with a World War II vet Friday morning.  I was interviewing him because he is being awarded, at 89 yrs old, the French Legion of Honor - the highest award in France for service to their country.  He had the coolest stories to tell me and was overall very inspiring.  At 89 he tends a full vegetable garden, is on no medications, and has a marvelous memory.  He even wrote out 6 pages of his story so I could take it with me and not have to type as much.  His wife also made homemade organic banana bread for us that morning. It was really very inspiring and I got to work and wrote the story with so much passion that my editor told me it is my best story and pictures since I've been working here.

Bible study girls at Blue.

That night, I met with the Bible study girls and we carpooled over to Blue uptown for dinner in celebration of Christina and Whitney's b-days.  Given that it was restaurant week, we each paid $30 and got a marvelous 3 course meal.  I had never been to such a ritzy and amazing restaurant before in Charlotte.  I now understand why people become "foodies." lol  My friend Jessica was sitting next to me and she's in culinary school right now - it was really neat to ask her to describe all the foods on the menu before we ordered.  I ended up getting a tomato bisque soup to start with rice sized pieces of bread in it to give it a thicker texture.  For the main meal I got grouper with steamed green beans and French crepes filled with crab meat.  I still don't really enjoy crab, but I had some.  The rest was wonderful.  For dessert I had a conical chocolate cake filled with hot melted chocolate, with homemade ice cream on the side, and fresh berries.  I seriously thought I'd died and gone to heaven.


Saturday 1-29:
Saturday evening a group of Charlotte Observer friends met at Chipotle by Christina's house for dinner.  We brought our dinner back to Christina's and sat around eating and getting to know each other better before going to PreVue for an improv show in NoDa.  The whole evening was a tribute to Christina's birthday and she made a rule: everyone must wear a pashmina.  She and Caroline brought extras for those men who did not own one.  Now, to understand the pashmina mandate, you have to understand where it started.  One day (before I was working here) Cleve walked in wearing what he thought was an off-white scarf.  One of the women in the office said "Oh, you're wearing a pashmina - it's a girl's scarf."  He said, "No, this is my manly-man scarf.  I don't know what you're talking about."  Then she found the tag on it which clearly labeled it as a "pashmina."  Well, he still wears it and proudly.  Thus the joke that resulted in the mandate by one of his best friends (Christina) for her b-day party.

The pashmina crew at PreVue for improv night.

So, 12 of us roll up at PreVue wearing pashminas only to be told they do not have room for us because we needed to make reservations.  Well, we stood outside contemplating starting our own outdoor improv show, when one of the improv guys said their group of 12 reservation didn't show up...so we could have their 3 rows of seats.  It was so perfect!  We definitely had the largest group in the room.


Anyway, the show was really funny and they even used several of our suggestions in the skits, including the line "Where does a well-heeled man go to get a pashmina?"  We were in riotous laughter when they used that one since I believe no one on stage knew what a pashmina was.


After the show, we all walked the 2 blocks to some pub in NoDa and sat around talking and laughing until pretty late.


By the end of the night, I was so happy.  I was finally making newsroom friends amongst others who were friends of newsroom staff.  It was just a really happy night and I had a wonderful time.


Monday Jan. 31: 
I had a 9 a.m. meeting with a future story possibility and didn't make it into work until 10:30.  I was still coming off my weekend of happiness high and was thinking to myself, "Wow, I'm so lucky to have a job I love and now to have a 'group' too."

I hadn't even sat down yet when the hiring manager approached me and took me into a small conference room.  Apparently, I'd missed the meeting that morning where they announced that the Observer was laying off 20 people, 5 from the newsroom.  And, as the only "temp" and most recent hire, I was one of the five.  After that was a bit of a blur.

Picture: Me, crying hysterically, hyperventilating, getting dizzier and dizzier, feeling like my chest was caving in, about to faint, all while the hiring manager is standing there trying to tell me how I'm an amazing writer and everyone loves me and how bad she feels, and then how she can go get my stuff for me and I can go home, in fact, can stay home through the 18th (my scheduled last day) if I want and still get paid.  Finally, I gasped out that I needed water and she ran to get me some cold bottled water and tissues which began the calming down process.  Then I asked her to find Jessy or Cleve, and since Cleve wasn't in yet, she got Jessy.


It was a little better after Jessy came in b/c at least then I had the comfort of someone hugging me.  After she got me a bit calmer, she went to get one of my editors to come and talk to me, and he promised to use me as a freelancer as soon as I left and said everything would be okay.  Finally, Jessy got me my things and then called Cleve to tell him what happened.  He came and picked me up and took me to Amalie's French Bakery to finish the calming down process before I had to go home and face telling everyone else.  I'm so thankful to have such good friends here.


Tuesday 2-1:
My eyes were still puffy, and I moved from the grieving stage to the anger stage.  I won't deny - I was bitter - and got more and more riled up by my co-worker who tends to be loud and angry about policies here often and is now even more so.  However, toward the end of the day, I got good news: 3 diff. editors at least will be able to use my as an independent contractor for freelance stories which in the end, could put me with more stories in the paper than before and potentially more money - with less crappy, non-writing work.


However, driving to an interview that night, I still found myself struggling with tears.  Yet that night, I read some inspirational Bible versus, and woke up Wednesday a whole new girl.


Wednesday 2-2:
Wednesday was really great.  The day was beautiful, I felt hopeful and actually excited about the future of not waking up at 7:25 a.m. and being more free to travel.  I don't have a mortgage or kids and I'm back on my parent's health insurance plan.  I'm gonna be just fine.



Today:
I've decided that I'm going to travel as much as possible during this time of freedom. This weekend I'm going to Asheville to visit Tiffany.  I'm hoping to make it up to Chapel Hill within the next month.  In April I'll prob. go down to Florida with Mom and Dad for her spring break, and sometime within the next 6 months, I'm going either to Amsterdam or Spain to visit Lieselotte or Enrique respectively.  I will look into doing freelance for magazines as well as for the Observer and hopefully can get into travel writing now that I have some experience in "real" writing under my belt.