Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Friendly and humanitarian
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
So, it's Memorial Day, there is absolutely nothing going on in terms of news, there are five reporters on staff, and I can't get my brain to write a single line of copy that actually makes sense. Instead, I will give my brain a short break, and hopefully yours as well. I'm daydreaming about San Miguel de Allende, its cobblestone streets and vivid colors, where purple bougainvilleas creep along stucco walls, where life slows down about 20 paces from the crazy life of a Seattle journalist.
Those are the streets I want to walk along every day, this is the place I want to live and study Spanish again and work on writing a book:
Oh what wonderful daydreams these are, but I can actually smell the fresh tortillas baking, the burgers frying with jalepenos on street stands. I can see the smiling faces and feel the soft pillow beneath my face during the afternoon siesta. What a luxurious three hours. You see, I did live in Mexico for three months during my junior year of college to study Spanish, and I came back to the United States completely culture-shocked. Why are people so frantic? Why is everyone speaking English? Why is everyone so WHITE? It took me a few months to adjust to the flow of life back in the United States, and this was in the relatively "slow" city of Eugene. Just look at me now, a news reporter in a big city, rushing to get stories on the air every half an hour, where thirty seconds is an eternity.
Sometimes its good to just let the mind relax, to remember the scents and sights of a place where time has no meaning.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
If those powerful peaks could push through the Earth, I could push on to the animal farm. And I am so glad I did.
The bike ride home wasn't quite as difficult, and I feel so joyful and refreshed after being around the animals, and a woman so passionate to provide them with a good home. I relished every downhill on the way back, and even enjoyed the one very difficult uphill. I took several breaks to drink water and stare at those Olympic mountains. Beauty surrounds us all the time, everywhere, and I believe the ability to appreciate it can get us through any rough spot.
Friday, May 23, 2008
I have nothing against this crazed-looking girl, only that giant pink mass popping out of her mouth. I have a "thing" against gum, just a little pet peeve. I think people look like cows when they chew gum with their mouths open. No, I don't want to look inside the yawning abyss of your mouth, or listen to the never-ending chomping sound. I think gum should be illegal, since it NEVER goes away, never gets old. I find this especially distracting on the bus (thank god for my ipod) or in meetings, where I have no escape. Sometimes it makes me want to scream.
So, I have one favor to ask. If you just have to chew gum, PLEASE keep your mouth closed.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The same people ride the ferry every day, and I am beginning to recognize them. Not by their faces, but their body parts. There is one woman who is bowlegged, and she always wears flats, her feet jutting outward at strange angles with every step. One time I heard her talk and felt sorry for the man who sat there, nodding, for a half hour, not getting a word in edgewise. Then there's the man who sits in the same spot in the galley every day, wearing pants that sit too high on his waist, with greased-down, kinky black hair. I see round bellies cut by tight belts, feet stuffed into $300 dollar shoes, or a pudgy, ringless left finger. I wonder what these people do after these long ferry rides, if they have someone they love at home, or are just going to plop in front of the television with another saran-wrapped dinner.
Right now the water looks like an oil painting. Soft waves caress the light from the sky, folding it, bending it into rolling sheets of blues and whites. The dark ragged tops of trees mark the skyline of the Kitsap Peninsula, namely Bainbridge island. They are cutout shapes against a bright sky with swirling clouds. The pattern in these clouds looks like the hard sand that's shaped into ripples from waves.
We are turning into the inlet of Bainbridge Island, where a wonderful person will pick me up, and we'll retreat into our world of trees and castles. The house we live in actually looks like a castle, complete with turrets and a hidden room. When I'm there I feel at peace, its my sanctuary. Every day I'm thankful for my home, for David, that I'm not alone eating a TV dinner.