The Happiest Place on Earth... Costa Rica

I am sure everyone has one trip that comes to mind when asked about your best vacation ever, or favorite place you have ever been.

Well, in my line of work that question comes up basically daily.

That leads to this post... I meant to write about my trip when I first returned, but things happens and somehow I never got around to it. I think it'll be even better now though. After going on multiple other trips to awesome places, I realize just how magical my Costa Rica trip was. I don't know if I could ever portray how alive I felt on this trip, or the awe that us 5 girls continually had....  but I'm thinking playing it out like a picture book might be my best try at it.


It's funny, because as the trip and itinerary planner, I have been asked how I picked Montezuma, Costa Rica to visit. I don't have an answer...  As with everything flight attendants do, it came together last minute... within like 2 weeks. I didn't even know where to start searching, and just googled where in costs rica had 3 things: waterfalls, zip lining, and beach.  Montezuma came up quite a few times so I started looking into it.  Found a few lodges, B & B's, many hostels, and 1 resort.  I booked a hotel/lodge at Amor de Mar, and they helped book transportation from San Jose which is a few hours away.



We took off on the adventure with 4 girls... which ended up being 5 when Samantha made a surprise appearance in San Jose.  Most of us didn't know at least 1 or 2 of the others in the group, but we quickly established friendships.   I wont bore you with every detail of the trip, but do want to skim the experiences that we had.

We had quite a few adventures...

-walking up interstate off ramps in downtown San Jose... 

-Samantha's 2 am arm numbing spider bite scare, when we realized we literally were in the middle of no where, and no Doctor could make it to see her within like 2 hours.

-Catching the public bus back to San Jose ( a 6 hour trip, ferry transfer included) not knowing any Spanish or where the heck we were until we pulled up to the airport, & by the grace of God were awake and watching. 

-Corals accidental nudist moment on the rope swing in front of the zip line crew,

-our much anticipated run in with the monkeys on a walk home... who ended up throwing mangoes at us. No seriously, monkeys in the wild = rude. 

- picking wild bananas in Costa Rica was an epic fail, as they are sticky as hell and taste really bad (thank you Shenna for taking one for the team and trying it first).

-Zip lining through the rainforest and over the Montezuma waterfalls... and a stop to cool off in the falls...



The TOP of the jungle, overlooking the Gulf of Nicoya coastline

-Of course we did the longest line upside down...  It was unbelievable! Apparently I missed the instructions that you are supposed to raise up before you get to the platform though. Luckily the platform is farther from the line than I was tall.

                         

-The ride through San Jose traffic and then the ferry ride/booze cruise. We may be the only people to have packed mimosas just for the 1.5 hr ferry ride to the peninsula, but we had a great time...

-The hotel itself deserves a few words.  It was unbelievably beautiful and quaint, and authentic, and organic, and has so much personality. We got to know the employees, made friends with other guests, and thoroughly enjoyed the organic breakfast and smoothies every morning.

Picture it with me...  All of these views, from dozens of hammocks thrown up in the back of the hotel.  If that isn't convincing enough,  there is a natural tide pool we swam in everyday that is heated by the sun during the day.  Still not convinced? The waterfalls trickle into the stream beside the hotel, and I swear laying in it and letting the cool water go by and then exfoliating with the tiny rocks was more relaxing that any spa visit I've had.

-Ok, enough with the relaxation talk for now.  I feel like it is time to introduce Chicos bar.  You must understand that this is a one dirt road town...

....and everything can be reached by foot.  Obviously that means there isn't much to the town... a few little restaurant that I wont even mention because that's another blog post entirely.  The food was to die for, prices unbelievably cheap, and both places we went to for dinner were located on the beach... literally, candle lit and toes in the sand.  But, back on track... there are a couple of tour guide places, one convenience store, and Chicos.  The only bar in town. 

How she kept up with those coffee beans all night, I'll never know...

 If the locals were not aware that there were Flight attendants from FL in town... The next day they were.  By then we had an invitation passed along through another hotel guest for surf lessons, and the bar knew exactly what to pour us when we arrived the next night.  Which brings me to...

REGGAE NIGHT. 

Every Thursday night...  reggae night at Chicos start is signaled by the fire dancers.  A few glasses of wine in, and we were in complete awe.  Coral even tried to learn...

 



-We made so many friends that night.  And really discovered that people lived in little Montezuma from literally all over the world.  I give most of this credit to Shenna, for being a dancing social butterfly and pulling anyone and everyone watching us have the time of our life out on the dance floor too.

-At Chicos we realized that we needed to track down this surf instructor who wanted to give us lessons.  Shenna went to the bartender to ask if he knew Mauricio, and he pointed 2 stools down and said sure do, that's him.  Score.  A dance partner, and surf lessons set up for the AM.

-The next morning was not pretty. By the time we woke up, we had maybe 30 min to pack up, eat breakfast, check out, and head out for surf lessons.  30 minutes is not long enough to cure a tequila hangover.  Another thing that sure doesn't help... an unexpected 45 minute walk/hike to the beach we would learn to surf at.

to

 

We walked through light and grainy sand beaches...







To trails through the middle of the jungle...


              to beaches where you sink a foot into the dark sand...

   

 To beaches of multi-colored smooth rocks and a reddish sand... 



















Up mountainsides of jagged rocks... barefoot


Straight to a beach of driftwood, or one of completely unbroken seashells. 

-We walked... and walked... and walked it seemed.  Please keep in mind.  Tequila, early morning, exhausting trip, plus a very hot sun beating down on you...   And yet, it was one of the most unique things I've ever experienced.  Just the miserable walk alone... I've never seen such variety of side by side beaches, different just from weaving in and out of the jungle.

-Finnnnalllly we make it to the beach shack that holds the surf boards...   Surfs up dude.  Almost.  I will admit,  after watching all the other girls pop up on most of their first try... I was pretty convinced that as a D1 athlete, I was going to do the exact same thing.

Surfing is much harder than they made it look.   I think I drank maybe 3x more saltwater, and was by far the least graceful one.... but dang it, I got up and rode a couple of waves before I retired.

Then we hustled back to the hotel, threw on clothes, and ran to the bus stop to catch our red-eye home.  

A phrase widely used there, that as a TN girl I was completely new to: 

Pura Vida (POO-rah VEE-dah), used by Costa Ricans since 1956, literally translated means “Pure Life.” Contextually, it means “Full of Life” “Purified life”, “This is living!”, “Going great!” It is used as a greeting, a farewell, and to express satisfaction. The phrase has become widely known in the USA and Europe. Some foreigners view the phrase as an expression of a leisurely lifestyle, of disregard for time and wanton friendliness. However, Costa Ricans use the phrase to express a philosophy of strong community, perseverance, good spirits, enjoying life slowly, celebrating good fortune, whether small or large.”



I have to say, I totally get it now... OK, maybe not totally... but I don't think the beautiful woman walking down the street with half her head shaved, (that turned out to be our Argentinian waitress), is crazy in the slightest for visiting Montezuma and just never going home.  Or Lucas, our waiter the second night... or probably 25% of the people we met.  They came for vacation and never left.  It's tempting.   No worries... no hustle at the work place... no honking horns of impatient people.  No stress about owning, well... anything. Material items probably mean that you get judged... not the other way around.  Simple.  Back to the basics.  Enjoying life and what mother nature put in front of you, and surrounding yourself with like-minded people.  I wish we had had more time to just lay in the hammocks and read a book, or get to talk to the staff or locals more,  but as you can tell...  We crammed about as many experiences as we could into 2 days.  I made some best friends that trip as well, girls I have no doubt will be in my life forever.  I would guess, a vacation like this wouldn't be appreciated by everyone.

Still, part of me wanted to keep this secret gem to myself.  I'm sure there are locations like this all over the world... and while I can't wait to find more,  Montezuma will always be special to me.  It was the first place I really felt part of a much bigger world that I truly am clueless about.  Sometimes North Americans are egotistical in thinking we are 'the best country'...  and well, the locals didn't like us too much until they got to know us.  They certainly didn't appreciate us saying we were Americans, as they are too...  just central American.  I didn't get it until that visit.   But, with my eyes a little more open now, and after visiting 'The happiest country in the world', I can't wait to venture to the next remote corner of the globe.... or I would be just fine going back to Montezuma.

If.... you want to go:

http://www.amordemar.com/  -I can promise they will remember the flight attendant girls...

http://www.montezumaexpeditions.com/

http://www.hightidesurfschool.webgarden.com/   -We were later informed Mauricio is widely known as the best instructor on the pacific side...



St Thomas USVI Wedding Crashers...

Adventure certainly finds you when you least expect it... 

It's been a truly exhausting past couple of months full of amazing traveling and vacations.  I can literally count on both hands the # of times I have slept in my own bed.  Buttttt, regardless of fatigue, when you have a opportunity to go to St Thomas for a free stay that just happens to fall on your birthday... You go... 

A girlfriends family has a timeshare, on the beach, at the Ritz.

 So, another flight attendant and I flew down. Getting there in itself started the adventurous day. We didn't make our own airlines flight directly there, we missed it by a connecting couple that ran up with 1 minute to spare.  But, the gate next to us happened to be going to San Juan, Puerto Rico, & we knew it was at least closer to our final destination... So we ran over and hopped on last minute. Very last minute... We didn't know how we were getting to St Thomas from there, but sometimes you just gotta hop on a plane and see what happens ;).   Luck would have it the flight attendants working that flight were from my training class and one was even from San Juan. She was able to pass along info about a small airline that we have an agreement to fly free with I had never heard of. Cape air. They ended up being our saving grace in the form of a 9 seater old as dirt airplane.  I should also thank the family of 5 that didn't show up for the flight. At $450 a ticket (we later looked this up) for a 30 min flight, I almost feel bad for saying that.  The flight over the ocean and islands at probably 5,000' was a first for us, and actually pretty cool. 

So, we arrive and change clothes in the teeee-niny airport bathroom, slap on a bit more mascara and call ourselves ready for a low key dinner and early night in bed.  The dinner part ended up being true to the plan.  We walked up to the restaurant at the Ritz, and along with my girlfriends parents, ended up finding space at the bar for dinner.

That is where we met Corona, the bartender. The name isn't made up for ironic effect btw.. it really was his last name.  He informed us he gets $500 a night to spend on pretty girls however he deemed fit. Well for us it was tuna tartare, and a few drinks... Each.  So, a long while later we decide we should take the restaurant manager and Corona up on the invite to go out with the locals on a Sat night... Convinced that it was the best day for a bday celebration of course. We left the restaurant to walk home and finally change clothes, mainly because a button had popped off a dress in an obvious place, when we met the very pretty woman in the red dress... Janice maybe? I can't remember. Later to be referred to as the lady with marriage 'arrangements' who salsa danced to every song like she was on crack.  Janice was being driven on a golf cart. We inquired how one gets a golf cart ride, as our condo was a long walk. Friendly or cracked out Janice told us to just hop on with her, and when we do, she tells us we should just come with her to a wedding reception.

Our post-wedding golf cart ride with our bff Delroy

Our initial reaction was no way,  we got ready in an airport bathroom, have casual dresses on, and well... We. don't. know. you.  Then she mentioned the magic word.  Boys. Us being 3 single mid-20 something's, reconsidered and after a bit of coaxing from red dress woman about how it's super casual, the wedding has been going all day, and we will fit in perfectly,  decided why the hell not. 

The beautiful cracked out lady lied. On 2 different subjects. 1st off, this was nooooooooot a casual wedding reception. Reminder... It was at the Ritz. The other women were In sequined long gowns, and the bride was nothing short of 35% plastic and had on a lace backless partially see through wedding dress that showed side-boob, under-boob, cleavage, and they were very very perky DD's at least. I should mention she was probably 40-45? It was very difficult to tell.  Regardless, we walk in, the 40 or so done up invited guests that are lounging on the white sofas all turn and look, and there we are... perfect strangers in our sundresses standing with crazy red dress woman.  2nd off, we then realize there are maybe 2 men our age. The grooms nephew and someone else.  They did approach and told us to help ourselves to the top shelf open bar and then after a couple of minutes are gone. 

I don't know what normal people would do, but in the golf cart the red dress woman had mentioned that they needed people to liven the party up some, that the wedding had lasted all day. So, after the initial shock of how out of place we were, Allison immediately headed straight to the DJ booth to make song requests, and Coral and I start making friends and dancing. One in particular walked straight up to me and handed me a shot of Patron, I knew we were going to get along... and we did.  She hung out with us all night.

At some point the groom shows up to his own reception. Again, I'm not a good judge of plastic faces, but he was at least 60+.  Very friendly, and very open with the bridal party. Again, I'm making myself at home dancing with everyone, and I hear him tell a bridesmaid that it's about time she gets her boobs redone. Well, my mouth probably dropped open, but she simply agreed with him and then pulled her strapless dress down for all to see and judge. I had to walk away... If you know me, you know I have 0 control over my facial expressions. 

We stayed for a couple of hours I guess, and by the end of it we put pieces of our convos with the guests together, & realized we had just crashed a multi millionaires wedding... Everyone who attended had been flown down in private jets.  By the time we left, we had made friends, one of us got caught trying to take the bridal bouquet and tiara... Yes I said tiara- it was with innocent intentions for a simple photo op, we danced a lot (some of us with the bartenders/servers... Ahem), and in the end... felt very well liked at a plastic millionaire couples wedding in St Thomas. 

 If only the night had ended there, haha. 

"Is that when people in animal costumes hump each other?"

The Midwest Furfest...

I had the ummm... pleasure? of witnessing the start of this annual convention a couple of days ago. I was so deeply intrigued I had to look it up, ask the participants questions, and well... sit back and observe the verrrry strange behavior.

We were checking into the hotel Wednesday evening when it became apparent it was going to be a busy night.  There were a number of very 'dorky' looking mid 20s-30s guys walking around and checking in as well.  A few were just hanging out in the extremely large lounging areas in the lobby.  The first spotting happened then,  a giant fox was roaming the crowds.  Obviously this sparked a bit of curiousity and I started looking at these 'dorks' a bit closer...  2 of the 4 sitting on the couches right behind my crew and I had tails.  Tails... literally, a long yellow and black stripped cheetah tail and the other a black fluffy one I can only assume was a dog tail.  Like hanging out of their jeans all the way to the ground, tails.  Whhhhhat the heck is going on here?!?!  Then I started asking the guys checking us in, and was informed that the hotel was hosting the Furfest this weekend, and close to 2000 participants would be coming.  Ok... a furfest.  I actually thought he said fearfest first, which is slightly appropriate as well.   And then it hit me.

I am not a big fan of CSI or the Law and Orders, etc.  But, one day I was watching a CSI episode when of course there was a murder, and the only suspect they could find was the 'orange cat' or some animal.  Well,  the episode unfolds to show this party where everyone dresses up as animals and they literally roll around on the ground together.  Extra large orgie style.  They may fancy the feline in the corner, or chase after the pretty pretty pony, but they have no idea who is in the costume.  The hardest part for me to understand is that they do this because they're aroused from all this rolling around and humping.  After my lightbulb moment I just had to confirm with the employee that this was in fact,  THAT kind of convention.  Sure enough,  people came from all over for this kind of activity.  2000 people... I was floored! 

The next night, I happened to be back in Chicago again... and pumped this time.  I knew from more 'furries' as they refer to themselves as, that the convention actually kicked off at 6:30 that night.   This same 'furry' that was on our airport shuttle, excitedly mentioned that he was looking online and he was shocked to find that 40 furries live in his neighborhood! I couldn't help but wonder if this went hand in hand with pedifiles, and how many furries live around me.  Regardless,  6:30 that night I had a date with my coworker at the bar in the lobby to sit back and watch this sure to be entertaining night unfold.

These are the pictures that I managed to take.  At first I felt like I had to sneak and take them, then I realized Duh, these people are prancing through a hotel lobby, they want their picture taken...

This prissy pony was my favorite.  She literally pranced around by herself not once breaking character. 

The First officer, another flight attendant, and I stayed downstairs people/animal watching for nearly 2 hours.  At some point, this proud unibrow rockin software developer came over to chat.  He probably heard the animal noises we were making, or the snickers, or maybe just saw the look of confusion on our faces.  He explained the history of the event first.  It's the 3rd largest convention of it's nature in the world, there are in fact 2000 people here for the event, and one of those custome made bad boys costs around $2000 each.  The guy with the light up claws and tail was probably rockin a $5000 animal suite.  I bet he had the pick of any of the furry woodland creatures he wanted, haha. Obviously not everyone could afforde the full costumes, hence, all of the tails out of the jeans. We then asked, "Do you pick your costume, or does the costume pick you?"  Apparently this was a great question, because the self named 'green reaper' smiled, wheezed, and got super excited.  Turns out, it's a combination and everyones case is different.  It can be because you feel you have common personality traits, or maybe its an animal you admire and want to be like.   Orrrr maybe it doesn't really matter because you're hidden behind a full costume and can be free to be whoever you want and do things you would never do otherwise.  Just my opinion.  The first officer had one main goal, to get to the bottom of the sexual questions.  The guy said well of course we like sex (picture him saying all of this with a lisp... I promise im not making it up), and there was that CSI episode everyone thinks of,  and sure we party and drink and things happen... but that's not what everyone here does.   I think I zoned out of the convo at this point because picturing these guys in any type of sexual act made me want to throw up.   Actually, we had a pole going between the 3 of us as to what percent had ever touched a girl that was not at the convention.  I went with a very optimistic 60% to start with... by the time we talked to the green reaper and watched for a couple of hours, my percentage had lowered to like 17%.  I gave the highest of us 3.

But at the end of the day, as much as the whole thing creeps me out... it's for a good cause.  They raise money (and a lot of it) for a charity of choice every year.   Also,  you have to admire people with passion.  Regardless of what that passion may be (and how sketchy I may find it), they do share an extreme amount of passion towards this event and coming together with like-minded people.  So...  while I will never participate in the Midwest Furfest, and will never call myself and hopefully none of my friends 'furries'... I commend them on doing what makes them happy.  I think.

While looking them up the first night, I came across this video from last year I think...  just to make you feel like you were actually at the Furfest... because I know you all want to go now. HA

South FL: I Am A Giant That Can't Hold Conversation... And I Love It!

I have been an official South FL resident for a month today.  In honor, I thought it was time for a new blog post to update friends, entertain the curious, and most of all.... vent.

First and foremost,  I have never been so thankful for taking a leap of faith.  I had NO idea what to expect coming down here. With nothing but a pitiful, yet adorable1 bedroom apartment lined up and 1 friend that lives 30 min away, I had no reason to believe that things would work out.  But they have... better than anything I prayed for.  Yes, I am broke with a capital B but there is nothing that feels better than leaving the comfort of an easy and familiar life behind, getting through that horrifying unknown, discovering things you never knew about yourself, and making plans for a future.  In my case, a future that I never really considered, but can't help but feel as though it was meant to be (yeaaaa cheesy, I know).  Anyone who knows me knows my passions thus far have been:  Basketball, and traveling.  Adventure in general being a close 3rd.  Meeting new people and being social in there somewhere too. (It goes without saying that my fabulous family and friends are #1).  I have a list of places around the world I have been trying to figure out how to get to ever since basketball ended.  Unfortunately I have always been broke, and still am... but luckily now I get to travel the world for basically FREE.  Oh it just makes me smile thinking about it.

Right now I'm in week 1 of 3 1/2 of flight attendant training... They say only half of us will make it through to get our wings... and I understand why now that I'm almost through this week... I literally had no idea how hard it would be, but if I am so lucky... (jk, I'm making it through) I am starting with my airline at the start of a huge expansion, and will be senior to the hundreds more flight attendants they will be bringing on board in the next few months.  Hello, that means off the reserve list in 3-4 months compared to most airlines that are 1-5+ years.   To keep from boring you, I'll just sum it up to say that I'm just super excited about the opportunity and the growth that could come from it.  I love my little house that I have decorated just how I want, and do whatever I want in, whenever I want. (can you tell I'm enjoying living alone?).  I have a tiny little deck and backyard that I have planted flowers all over and enjoy drinking my morning coffee on. I have met a couple of really cool people... and really love my city and can't wait to really explore it.  Oh, and it was 89 degrees today and I plan on laying on the beach tomorrow...  I miss the pretty TN fall foliage, but um I'm going to be laying on the beach tomorrow.

Ok, the update part is over...

Now,  life in South FL...  I have never been a minority,  but I sure do feel like a fish out of water down here.

1. I dont understand 25% of strangers conversation around me. I'm pretty sure they are calling me a freak (see #9).

2. I am becoming aware that it's not just 'hispanic'... its Cuban, Latin American, Puerto Rican, Mexican, and who knows what ethnicity I'm forgetting.  I'm working on being able to tell the difference, and not making much progress so far. No one understands that, not to sound racist by any means, but there just isn't much difference where I'm from...


3.  I have been thrown into a world of beautiful scantily clad women. I've never been one to be afraid to show a little skin, but whewww im def not in TN anymore... The outfits in the grocery stores, walking downtown, high heels all day everyday, & I have never seen so many thong or half missing bikinis...  But, there are sooo many rocking bodies.  And there should be by the way people obsess over it.  I don't remember what it was called, but there's an area on South Beach where just unbelievably sexy, ripped men were working out on the outdoor equipment by the dozens. DOZENS I say!  I was walking with 4 other girls, tripping over each other, and I think I was literally drooling.  It's either situations like that, straight out of a movie....  Orrrrr quite the opposite and like People of Walmart style... lets just say I hope the European style banana hammock men's suits don't make it to the good ol American guys wardrobe.

4. Butt implants...  Once one pair was pointed out I feel like I saw them all over the beach.  Seriously, it's just weird...  White girls.  Get over it,  if it's not there its not meant to be.   And its obvious when you buy it... It doesn't jiggle.  Literally, it's like 2 perfectly round melons bouncing under the surface of the skin and like I said, just weiiirrrrd.  And hello, you can't have a huuuuuge perky butt without a little cellulite.  Not possible and not foolin anyone. 

5. People dont smile.  They don't go out of their way to be nice.  And for the most part are just pricks.   Buttttt then like every 1 in every 5 will surprise you and actually go above and beyond.  It's been such a strange experience.

6. Mosquitos.  Ahhhhh,  apparently they can't get enough of my sweet southern belle blood...  Depending on the time of day, and if it has rained the past couple of days,  I will have anywhere from 8-10 before I even realize it.  They are ruthless!!!

7.  Texas or Tennessee?  Where are you from?  Oh, wow... that's an accent.   Yea, its a conversation piece for sure... but my serious country accent certainly doesn't help me fit in around here.  Not that I've ever been one to give a shit if I fit in anyhow ;)

8.  How could I almost forget this one...  I am literally like a giant here! People just aren't near as tall as they are back home... and I get comments on it all the time.  I haven't even gone out to wear my 4'' heels either.  Finding a tall man could be quite the challenge...

So, that's all the complaints I have so far...  8 little things, that's it.  And most are just cultural differences that I am anxious to learn more about.  And I do plan on getting in good enough shape to rock one of those skimpy bikini's, haha. I know it has just been a month, but life is good... and I would encourage any and all of my friends who are debating getting out of a funk to take that leap and just do it!  Seriously, time's a tickin'.

This is where I can go run and shoot basketball, & it's all of 3 miles from my house.   It is also my therapy, and where I go when I miss home.  I will try to get some pics up of my house soon too!

Soooo, I think I have updated people who kept complaining about a new blog post (ahhhhhem Emmy, haha), vented, hopefully inspired one or two... and this is what I have to offer for the entertainment I promised.

He lived.  But was our entertainment for a solid 2 hours,  especially when he started doing his 'Step up 4' dance routine.  Aka, kicking around more seaweed.   Ohhhhh the things I see on a daily basis.

I had never known anyone with cancer...

 Ok, so first off... I know it's been a long time since my last post.  I can explain. 

I have moved out of my house, had no internet/roommates/furniture/cable for a month or so, and have been scrambling the last month to get a good hold on my life and future. All while working 2-3 jobs. 

And today's blog is going to be a bit different than my previous ones.  There is just something I really want to write about.  Something that has moved me in a way I dont know if I can properly explain.

But I'm going to try.

I've said it a million times.  I never evvvver thought I would be working in the health care industry.  In any way, shape, or fashion.  I dont like blood, dont like grumpy people, and hate doctors offices.  Buuuuut, straight out of college when I was offered a legit position for TN Oncology being a receptionist, I was just happy to have a good job and accepted. 

I had never personally dealt with cancer, had any friends whose family members had dealt with cancer, and basically knew nothing about it.  I was expected to understand diagnosis, procedures, and prognosis's immediately upon hire.  I honestly just didn't know what to expect.  I thought, sadness, depression, and tears was what I was going to be faced with on a daily basis and really dreaded starting the job.

What I got was exactly the opposite.  I have NEVER met so many amazing people in one place.  I dont think I will ever see human nature in such a positive form ever again.  The nurses are such special people, and the Doctors are indescribably great.  Seriously. But, I'm tearing up just thinking about the patients that I will never see again and how wonderful they are.  The positive attitudes, the can-do spirits, and the fight that I have witnessed with stay with me forever. 

I'm a people person and enjoyed getting to know everyone.  However, the ones you get to know most are the patients that come and see you weekly or monthly, which is obviously not a good thing. I saw 2 of my favorite women die after there 2nd battle with breast cancer, and years and yearrrrs of chemo treatments.  Both times I thought they were the strongest women I have ever met.  Never complained, and always smiled when they saw me.  Those are the ones you can't help but wonder how life is fair.  There are success stories too though, and those were special.  The changed people that now truly appreciate life can really rub off on you.  I left work many days with a smile in my face after seeing theirs.   Laughter in the chemo room was one of my favorite things.  How a group of people, faced with such a grave situation could be cutting up and laughing as a whole is such a hard thing to fathom.  I made many friends... one of which referred  to me as 'Sex in the City' everytime she saw me... because she thought I resembled one of them?  (I was too scared to ask which one),  one who tried to hook me up with her son, and many who just baked sweets to bring in to us or just stopped at my desk to have conversation.  One amazing woman who was lovingly referred to as the 'bread lady' who baked banana bread every Wednesday to bring to the patients and just give them an upbeat smile and a hug. A few of which gave me their business cards and numbers, and I honestly want to keep in touch with.

Today was my last day working there, and I just wanted people to understand what it is really like to be in an Oncology office.  You dont see the fluid retention that makes someone look pregnant it is so bad, you dont see the visible tumors, or places they used to be.  And you certainly dont see the bald heads anymore... you see amazing people.  And I am beyond thankful to have met them.

So...  Just in case you want to volunteer or know someone who might... just a couple of resources
https://www.minniepearl.org/
http://www.cancer.org/

Who knows, I might just be the next bread lady :)

You Dont Need Cops In A Small Town...

I am from the small town of Lawrenceburg, TN. About an hour and a half south of Nashville and home of Davy Crockett (headless in this picture), Amish Country, The Hippie Farm, and apparently Grannys Network?.  I know, you're thoroughly impressed right?




Yes... Amish park at Walmart...

The sign for the Hippie Farm

For you city people, let me break it down.

Growing up in a small town is... special.  I wouldn't trade how I was raised for the world. I was taught morals and values by example.  I'll never forget thinking, gosh my Dad knows everyone cause he waves at almost every car on the road... no, it's just small town protocol and nothing out of the ordinary. I skinned my knees when I wrecked on our unpaved street,  I walked down the bluff behind the house to play in the creek when I wanted to, and every house in the subdivision had kids to hang out with.. without supervision, and probably without telling my parents. Softball leagues were taken serious, and parents came to every game. Friday night football games were social events, and holidays meant mini family reunions and were the best playtime ever.

Highschool is when I learned an important lesson.  Cops really aren't necessary in a small town. A few examples.

Grandmas:
-One random day, myself and 3 girlfriends had 45 minutes to kill before some riveting event i'm sure.  So what do we decide to do?  Break into 2 teams to see which team could steal the most street signs.   I know what you're thinking... that's horrible.  No worries, we never took a Stop or children playing sign. Strictly way back in the boonies signs only. If you've never tried before,  there is a true art to stealing street signs.  Unless you're 6'2 200 lbs+, its best to do it with 2 people.  Treat it as a seesaw with both team members alternating pulling up and down until, Bloop, it pops right off.  Obviously you want to work as quick as possible to avoid facing the fact that, it is in fact illegal to steal signs. It took time to come up with the most efficient way to do it.  The first time, we actually pulled the sign right out of the ground and had to put it in the back seat of a car with 2 feet of the end out the back window. But, back to the story-

45 minutes later, 4 girls had accumulated 19 street signs. Well we were all proud and happy and put them all in one friends trunk and went about our business.  She got home, her dad needed something out of her trunk the next morning, and found 19 street signs.  He came back in, told her mother, and they ripped her a new one about what a horrible thing we had done. And what if an ambulance had been called and they couldn't find a street because of us, and how could she go to church knowing what she's done.  After this, we realized what we had done was in fact, a really bad thing.  19 times.  No cops needed.  They had hid the signs in the back of the basement (after threatening to make all of us take them to the police station).  Then they moved.  It was my friends grandparents house, and she then inherited the signs.  To this day, they are in the garage at her house, covered with a blanket because she's horrified she's going to be arrested for having them.  I dont know that i'll ever steal another sign again knowing how much stress I have caused poor Memaw.

Fathers:
I'm sure there are many examples for this one, but the one that I'm currently remembering is when some girls from my grade decided they wanted to roll my yard.  They park the car a bit down the road from my house and got started.  Well, they obviously didn't know how to properly roll a yard, and woke up my dad.  Did he go outside with the shotgun? No.  Did he call the cops? Nope.  He snuck out the back door, through the woods, to their car....  where the keys were in the engine.  He turned on the lights and started slowly cruising up the street.  He said the looks on there faces was way better than not having the pick up toilet paper.  They never rolled my yard (prolly any yard) after that.  No cops needed.

The Whole Town:
I had a close group of friends by senior year.  4 girls, and about 8-9 guys. We were a good group of kids, honestly.  Yes... We got into our mischief, but us girls had never drank & we didn't do anything else either. So, after the men's district championship bball game, there were plans to have a party at one of our guys houses.  His parents were out of town.  We all arrange stories to tell our parents and head over when we got in town from the game.  We arrive after people had been there for a while, and immediately shots were handed to us.  Our very first shots,  tequila....  PARTY IS ON!!!  So we are just having a blast,  one of the guys had a video camera going around interviewing people and documenting the good time, I kissed a couple of guys, my girlfriend (also first time drinking) puked her guts up for like 2 hours, there was lots of living room dancing, and more and more people stopped by the party.  After everyone was pretty drunk and things were dying down late late night, we got a sober driver to take us back to a friends house (whose parents weren't home either).  My mother had been trying to call me the whole night.  Call it mothers intuition I guess, but she thought something was wrong.  When I never answered my phone, and neither did my friends, she drove to the house I was supposed to be at.  No one was home. I dunno how many missed calls i had from her that I ignored, but i wiggled my way out of it by saying we ended up staying somewhere else.  We never thought another thing about the party...

After the first round of our region tournament, I will never forget getting a text on the way back to Lawrenceburg.  The party was starting to get out, and the youth minister at a big church in town had heard.  You're probably thinking ok, no big deal... but watch how things work in a small town.  The next day,  my coach called me into his office and said that he didn't want to ask, but he had to.  Did I drink? I told him that myself and the other bball player that was there just split a beer, just to try it. Even though it was a lie...  Merrrrrrrg, wrong answer.  He told me that I had broke team rules, and that I would have to face the punishment of sitting out a game like the mens coach was enforcing.  The next game was the 2nd round of the region tournament against our rival Shelbyville.  That's when i realized the severity of the situation.  I cried, he cried, I had to tell my teammates, I had to call my college coach to inform him and listen to the speech, my Dad came to school that day to talk to the principal, I got lectures from my teachers on how disappointed they were, made my mother cry,  had to read the articles in the newspaper, listen to people talk about it on the radio (yes I'm serious), annnnnd then I even got an email from a dumb dumb sophomore girl talking about how she knew I was stripping on a table, and stealing girls boyfriends, and that im lucky she's keeping this stuff to herself because i could lose my scholarship if she told, and then signed it -The Class of 2006.  Well, my mother broke into my email and read it.   And basically cried herself to sleep for a week I later learned.  NONE of that was true...  

So, I had a heartbroken verrry pissed off family, a whole town was was disappointed in me, sat the bench in street clothes my very last high school game (which we lost), had my future college coach worried I was a hellion, and was grounded for a long time.  But basically we were humiliated in front of our whole town. Alllllllll because someone just told on us that there was a party, there were NO COPS!  We were so scared, we even destroyed the video.    This will forever be known in Lawrenceburg history as 'THE Party.' It still makes me mad to think about it. 

So, If you want an easy job.... go be a cop in Lawrenceburg.  (if you're reading this and you're a law enforcer, im jk)

MARDI GRAS -Glad I did it, probably wont go back...

I came to a very abrupt and frightening realization after attending 2011 Mardi Gras.

I.

Am.

Getting.

Old.

Say it aint so!!! I have experienced weeks of Panama City Beach, trips to Vegas, Miami, Chicago, Tunica, & Orlando... All full of basically just straight partying with friends.  It's been a blast, an unbelievable good time.  But, I'm sad to say, I can't do it like I used to anymore (and function).

Granted, Mardi Gras is by far the most extreme partying situation I have ever encountered.  We arrived the Thursday night before fat Tuesday.  We didn't get in the hotel room until midnight, threw on our cute outfits, freshened up, and were out the door. We were only 2 blocks from Bourbon, well by the time we got a couple of blocks on Bourbon we had our first run in with the cops.  I see my friend lift up her skirt to the people dangling beads from overhead.  When I say lift her skirt, I mean... lift the side of her right butt cheek very quickly just kidding around and teasing.  I'll be danged if there weren't 4 fat cops literally right where she was mooning.  They quickly take her over, threaten to arrest her, get all of her info, and inform her that it ok to flash breasts, but you can not show genetalia.  REALLY?  Ok... quickly into the trip, this lesson was learned.  Boobs = ok,  Butt = arrested.  So, we continue on to get our first drink, and end up having a great night...

The rest of the trip was fairly indistinguishable.  It was more or less a blur of festive fun. We started Friday and Saturday at probably my favorite bar in this whole world. The Cats Meow Karaoke Bar.  It's where I discovered my karaoke performing skills, along with my favorite karaoke partner of course.  If this wasn't enough of a reason,  they have 3 for 1's... everything.  This, along with the entertainment factor, is why we spent probably 35% of our whole trip there. 

 They really should have been paying us.  Now that I have shared my favorite bar, lets talk about my favorite cheeseburger.  Port of Call is the place.  It's an old pirate bar (how freakin cool is that?) and its dim lit and tiny... the menu consists of about 5 things, a few appetizers, a steak, and cheeseburger, and baked potato.  That's it... and that is all they need. 

The burger and potato come with mushrooms soaked in this gift from the gods wine sauce, and it's probably the best thing you'll ever put in your mouth.  Granted, it could be the level of alcohol we have all had both times I have visited, but seriously... if you are ever in Nola, call me, get off the beaten path, and find Port of Call.  We had a few other tasty dishes, and checked out a couple other fun bars....


Shout out to Dominics, the bar connecting to our hotel that we danced up and down the small bar, and basically dominated the end of every night. 






But I know that's not what you're wanting to know.






I'm obviously not a guy, and don't know judging criteria. But I was very disappointed in the boobs.  The people flashing their goods were old, and they were not desirable in any stretch of the word.  The women, nor their sweater puppies.  I'm assuming this is the reason that people just had to throw their beads to any joe shmoe standing under there balcony, or any girl who just flirtidly asked for some.  (hence, why my girlfriends and I have beads on in our pics...  ok, most of them). We saw some body painted chests, the naked indian, a gay guys ass... up close and personal (and I dont want to talk about it anymore than this small mention), and made lots and lots of new friends.

 The parades were nice.... nice and scary.  If you dont know (I didn't before I went)  people are in 'krewes',  I discussed how I could join a krewe with the 'naughty gras' members, and was told all I had to do was email the guy I was talking to next year.  I didn't take his email.  But, they pay money... the people who get to ride the floats pay A LOT of money.  This is my theory.  I think they're pissed that they paid so much money, and they try to nail the little pee-ons watching below with their beads.  I'm not talking just individual beads,  if you aren't watching... you'll get knocked upside the head with a 5 lb bag of beads.  Not kidding... saw it happen.  Not to mention, the people are scary.  I would have been horrified as a child watching.  Not that any child should attend Mardi Gras, ever.  Because if you're a good parent, they wont. I'm not exact a parade pro though, we only saw 2 lol.

The trip home might have been the true reason I still haven't recovered from the trip.  We checked out at 11,  we didn't get our car from the valet until 12:15ish,  we were supossed to meet a friend who had gotten his car 45 min earlier up the interstate a couple of hours. Wellllll, an hour outside of Nola we realize that there are 2 ways out of the city.  Yep, we were going the other way.  Turning around we headed back in the traffic to the city we were so desperately ready to leave. We finally meet our friend, get the girl who was riding back with us,  roll 5 deep, and head out...  only to drive 45 past the exit we needed to take.  Again, driving righhhht on back into Nola.  4 hours after we originally left.  This is after I had already gotten car sick and puked behind a quick mart, the driver was so pissed her head almost exploded and I had to start drive.  Needless to say, I didn't get back to Nashville til 2:30 that morning.  And had to be at work at 8.

Honestly, I couldn't have picked at better 8 people to go with.  Everyone was super outgoing, loved to dance, and no whining. We even got along great in a tiny tiny little hotel room (yes, all 8 of us... 2 dbl beds and a double airmatress pushed together into one giant sleepover) All in all, it was one of the best times i've ever had. The atmosphere of New Orleans, crazy outfits and situations, plus the craziest people in the country.  4 nights in Mardi Gras did me in, but I think everyone should do it once. 

EWWWWWWW