A Whole New World

There are no words to describe how amazing our trip to Romania was. I will truly never be able to fully explain how much we did, how real our experiences were, and how much the trip affected me as a person. All I can say is, I learned so many things about the country, the world, my friends, and myself.

I'm not sure what any of us were expecting on this trip (any of us being myself and the guys, Diana obviously had a better idea than us) but what we experienced was exponentially outside of our imaginations. The day we started traveling was long to say the least. I got up and drove to Binghamton to pick up Francis and drove back to Saylorsburg to park at my mom's house. Steve and his brother met us there to drive the three of us to Newark Airport. We met up with Diana there and boarded our first flight. It was a long flight, filled with poor attempts to sleep and lots of stupid jokes (although the migraine I had for most of that flight did not make that leg of the trip very pleasant at all). From there we had a three hour layover in London. We sat down in a cafe and had some tea and food while we waited, chatting away the hours, enjoying each others' company and anticipating the rest of the trip. Finally, we boarded our second flight (which was over in a heartbeat considering we all passed out until they said "Welcome to Budapest"). We got a car to the train station where we met up with Diana's cousin, Paul. He has lived in Hungary for the past 12 years and he took the day to show us all of the monuments possible. We hopped train after tram after bus. We never would have seen as much as we did or even chanced any public transit without him. If you are my friend on Facebook you can get an idea of just how much we saw considering I have an entire photo album from just this day. Keep in mind, we only spent 6 hours in Budapest and the 104 photos I have online are only the ones I pulled out to post; there are so many more. After a long afternoon in Hungary, we boarded our train to take us to Romania. Again, laughing and jokes all around, keeping each other awake so we wouldn't miss our stop, getting delayed by customs and police people. Finally crossing the border and meeting Diana's dad. We made it to their home after midnight and Diana's mom and dad were both more than ready to feed us our first traditional Romanian meal. Three or four courses later, so stuffed we could barely think straight, we finally made our way to our beds. It was a ridiculously long 48 hours, but well worth every second. We were greeted with traditional Romanian Polinka (a strong, home-made liquor that is served with every meal--yes, breakfast too), warm hugs and happy faces, and a place to stay, where saying we felt welcome is the understatement of my life.

We woke the next day to another several course meal. Then there was the pig. Diana's parents prepared to have a traditional pig for us to eat. They killed and butchered it right there at the house and we had wonderful steaks and sausages and so much more for the remainder of our trip. I chose not to watch the initial stages (which the guys loved to tease me about). In retrospect it was very cool and the food was great, I just am not capable of forming any kind of attachment to an animal if I know I am going to eat it. We drove around Santana (Diana's town) a bit with her dad. We saw what the town had to offer and spent the day relaxing around her house. Her house by the way, was very cool. Her backyard is probably one of the most peaceful places I've ever had the pleasure of relaxing in. We met her niece, Maia. She was very cute but very afraid of us at first. She certainly came around later in the week, but it took a while for her to stop associating us with the dead pig. Diana got her hair done which took a while; so Steve, Francis, and I were dropped off at a restaurant where we had a drink and just talked about random things before we set off roaming around Santana ourselves. We walked for a few hours just enjoying the peacefulness and admiring everyday life in Romania (and how welcomed we were by the Branduse family). We finally met back up with Diana before heading back home to eat some tasty pork. We went out for a bit that evening into Arad, the city about 30 minutes from her home. We saw monuments, visited Diana's past, had ice cream, played in the park, and just had memorable experience after memorable experience. That night ended with the knowledge that we would be getting up before dawn the next day to head out on our Romanian roadtrip. Diana's dad was going to drive us clear across the country, making a big circle so we could see everything the country had to offer. Do you ever get these opportunities in real life? It was all so surreal.

Bright and early we piled ourselves into the family car. Diana in the front, obviously so she could talk with her dad, and Francis, Steve, and me in the back. I can't even tell you how many hours we spent in the backseat over those two days, but in the long run it was a really great time and I will hold those memories for a lifetime. We got to see the sunrise over the mountains as we drove. We saw historical landmarks, heard old Romanian legends, stopped for traditional foods, and got first hand experience of the craziness that is Romanian driving and traffic. We made it all the way to Bucharest, the capital city, where we had a driving tour as we tried to escape the traffic. We made it out of the city and found ourselves in another town where we stopped to find a hotel for the night. We had a nice fish dinner and then went back to the hotel for some drinks. We hung out basically all night just laughing and talking; again, so many memories that I can't even begin to explain them or how much fun I had.

The next morning we headed back out to continue our journey. We drove through the Carpathian Mountains, which were some of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. We stopped to take photos at the tops of some of the mountains and the feeling of peace was just indescribable. We saw more monuments to battles, monasteries, cheese, sheep, flowers, churches, and even more beautiful mountain scenery. We made our way to Dracula's castle, which was unfortunately closed, but still so cool. And hey, just another excuse to go back soon! We did a little shopping and went through a haunted house (thank you Francis). It was a fun experience for us as a group though, considering none of us made it out of that thing without screaming. Then we got in the car and made the last (very long) leg of our journey back to Diana's house. I think we arrived around 2/2:30am aka we passed out quick.

We slept in the next morning. When we finally got up it was just to be a relaxing day at home. Something that I thought was very cool: we ended up borrowing some of the neighbors' bikes and the four of us took a bike ride around Santana. We stopped to have a drink and chill, then back on the bikes for a bit. It sounds so simple, maybe even boring, but there was just something about it. Doing something so home-ish in a foreign country, I'm not describing this well at all, but there is just something so cool about that to me. Maia came back over and we had all fully bonded by now. We played and watched her laugh and enjoyed the simple pleasures of it. We ended up going to a Shepard 's field to see the sheep with her. The Shepard was very nice and fed us homemade meat and cheese (as if we could have eaten any more food with the vast amounts being pushed at us every few hours). He thought I spoke Romanian very well (for the little I know) and I thought that was really cool. We brought Maia home and then the four of us hung out for a while. The next morning would be Easter, so at midnight, Diana's church has a ceremony where you light candles and circle the church three times before a service. We went and it was definitely an experience. We lit our candles, made our rounds, listened to them speak outside, and when the service started we decided to leave. We obviously wouldn't have understood it anyway and it apparently would have gone well into the morning; so we made the walk home, stargazing the whole way.

Happy Easter! The next morning we got up to a traditional Romanian Easter breakfast including colored eggs which we cracked on each others' eggs (a tradition in that region of the world). We spent another day playing with Maia, relaxing in Diana's backyard, and eating full traditional meals. Today we had lamb instead of pork (for lunch at least). After a long relaxing day, we left for town to go to a traditional Romanian Ball. There was a band and traditional dancing (although the clothing was all modern). The four of us took a shot at dancing--there are no words to describe how funny we must have looked. We met some new people, at least Steve and Francis certainly did, and had a good night laughing and dancing. We did dance a lot considering we didn't know the steps well, but it was all part of the experience and just a fun new thing we tried. It was night for some good girl talk between Diana and I while the boys had some "girl talk" of their own, ha.

We woke up on Monday, and piled back in the car. We drove to Timisoara, a city about an hour from Santana. We learned about the history of the 1989 revolution and saw where it all began. We walked around Victory Square and did most of our souvenir shopping. We came back to Santana to enjoy our last evening in the company of our amazing hosts. After more food and relaxing, Diana's parents went to bed and the four of us spent the night reminiscing and talking about life. Then we put on a movie and passed out.

We woke up late on the morning we had to leave. Go figure, considering we (at least Steve and I) were up until 3 or so and we had to leave by 7. But we got ourselves together, ate our last Romanian meal, said goodbye to Diana's mom, and headed out. Diana's dad drove us back to Arad where we got a car to take us to the airport in Budapest. We made our final goodbyes and took the several hour car ride. We got to the airport, boarded our plane, and were off. Two and a half hours later we were back in London, waiting for our next flight. Finally, we were over the Atlantic and then, back in Newark. My mom picked us up and took us to her house where Conner (my pick-up) was waiting. We drove back to Binghamton with a brief stop in Scranton for food (who knew, eating crazy amounts of meals all week and without them we were finally hungry). We ended up getting back to our apartments around 2 or 3am. It was a total of 26 hours of travel for us; all to leave a place we had grown to love so quickly and return to Binghamton, the fourth most depressing place to live in the U.S. (no, I'm not kidding, look it up).

I know I keep repeating this, but I can't help it: there really are no words to describe this trip. All I've managed to do here is give a relatively chronological account of events. But there are so many other things: the hospitality, the food, the experiences, the conversations, the knowledge, the serenity, the joy, the living, the history, the traditions, the scenery, the uniqueness, the weather, the reality, the people, the music, the driving, the stars, the memories, the infinite number of things I could continue to list here but won't. I think I came back from this trip a different person; not completely, maybe not even noticeably, but something in me is different from this trip, even if I can't exactly explain what it is to other people. All I know is that when I bought my plane ticket a month ago, I never in a million years would have expected this trip to be what it was. I feel so blessed to have been given this opportunity and I'm so glad that the group of people I went with worked so well together. We never fought (beyond the married couple bickering of Francis and Diana, but that's always happening) and I think we all came back much closer friends than we started. I can only hope my future travels are half of what I experienced in the past week. So here's to you Romania, for everything you gave to us and for the memories we will always share; Noroc!

"Buckets of Grace"

What a blessing. It's the little things that really do it for me, that mean the most. I've been more or less on the verge of tears for a week and a half. My Aunt Leisa, the woman who basically raised me, taught me morals, respect, and just loved me through my diaper days until her last days, passed away Wednesday before last. It has been the most heartbreaking thing I've ever endured to date (and I think I've gone through a good bit in only 23 years so far). There's a whole story there, but frankly, it's still too fresh for me to write about yet, so maybe a little down the road. What I'm getting at is significantly off topic from this, but that little bit of backstory makes the story I'm about to tell make a little more sense.

When I came home this weekend I had a card from the church that several people had signed with their love and prayers. It meant a lot to me and (go figure) made me cry. I went into church this morning a little shakily, just afraid people might ask about it because I knew I wouldn't be able to respond without tears. Fortunately, only one person mentioned it and briefly enough to give me a hug and say a few words without reducing me to a sobbing mess. That was to come later. Worship was nice and I survived prayer with minimal welling up. For those of you unfamiliar with the church I attend, we sing a few songs, then pray, we give tithes and offerings, then there is one more song before the pastor comes up to talk. It was this last song that broke me. The worship leader, Mark, his son is apparently on his way to boot camp, today. He wrote a song for his son and sang it solo on stage. Even if he hadn't explained the situation to us beforehand, it would have been a beautiful song. Knowing the scoop however, plus the way his voice cracked at select moments, was enough to break everyone in the room--no dry eyes to be seen. It was an amazingly special moment. We prayed over their family and they literally walked off stage and out the door--that was their last moment before they had to drive their son to the army. Obviously, I know the feeling of seeing a loved one head off to boot camp, so I can relate, but the entire moment was so wonderful and special. It was truly a blessing to be able to witness it.

Service was good but like I said, it's the little things. While Pastor was closing up, he was describing this scene to us and I think it will stick with me for a long time. The gist was that you're thoroughly outnumbered and undersized but heading into battle anyway. You've resigned to take out as many of the enemy as possible before you are inevitably wiped out--because there is no way you're coming out of this alive. You pick the biggest one on the other side you can find and set your sights there. Then, a little above that person you see Jesus. He smiles at you and winks; a private little joke passes between you. Death is no longer on the table; you just found the one thing that can turn the battle on its head. The imagery continued a bit and this may sound like a simple little story, but like I said: simple things. I think this may have been one of the things that you needed to be there for it to affect you but it certainly affected me, I'm not even sure I can explain how, but it certainly inspires confidence. Any time you're facing down something you're terrified of, or someone insulting you, or are afraid to stand up for your convictions, you can keep this image of Jesus right over that person's shoulder, sharing this private joke with you, letting you know that He's there and not any other thing even matters. What an amazing feeling; and a great way to keep you encouraged and pushing forward!

The funny thing too, was that Pastor called us all up to the front to explain this story to us and just as he was finishing up a lady next to me started shouting (again if you know anything about my church this isn't unheard of). She was saying all of these powerful things and giving thanks and encouragement...and right in the midst of it, all the power in the church went off. Now, those who are not into church or religion or whatever, are probably saying this is all just part of the "scam" trying to either encourage or frighten people into obeying. Take my word on this one, it wasn't (I know it's easier to take my word for it if you actually know me in person rather than if you've stumbled upon this, but there's not much I can do about that for now). So like I was saying, it's the simple things that really make an impact. Small little things that kept happening all morning, but when I walked back out those doors this morning, I felt a lot better in my soul than I have in a while. This was definitely something that I needed. I don't have much else to say for now; this morning was just a wonderful blessing to me and I wanted to pass it along to anyone who comes across this. Like I said, I think you had to be there for it to impact you as it did me, but maybe this will mean something to someone. Until next time!

Chapter 1: The Future

I’ve been very pensive lately. I’m not sure why exactly. I think it has to do with having the last week off (granted I spent 90% of it in bed with the flu). But I spent a good bit of time discussing the future and I’m now both excited and nervous and so many other things that the only word I can use is pensive.

I think I’ll start out with the one future event that I am completely sure of how I feel about it. I am going to Romania in just over two weeks. I booked my flight yesterday and I am so excited. My friend grew up there and we have been discussing the possibility of going to visit her family and it has finally come to fruition courtesy of travelzoo’s cheap flights. In a last minute decision, a few other friends decided to come as well; so now there are a total of four of us going for a week. I have never been to Eastern Europe and I am going to hit at least two countries while I am there (we are flying into Hungary and visiting that area as well as spending time in Romania). We will have a fluent tour guide, a free place to stay, and so many good times that I just can’t wait. My desire for travel is always looming and while I’ve been lucky enough to do a decent bit of traveling so far these past twelve months, I haven’t been out of the country for several years. I realize that this sounds like a really snobby, yuppie comment but I’ve said it many times before: travel is my biggest passion. The fact that I can escape school for a week and go traveling to new and exciting places with natives is so thrilling it’s beyond describable to me. I’ve had this feeling in my chest when it comes to traveling for most of my life and I have still not found a coherent way to describe it. I’m sure you’ll catch scattered attempts in this blog to describe this feeling as time passes but I can guarantee I’ll never do it justice.

Beyond my impending trip to Romania, the next future event I suppose I can talk about is moving to New Orleans. I spent maybe 36 hours in nola during our road trip this summer and even then I was talking to people about moving there someday. When I went back on my birthday I solidified that idea to myself and started telling people that I wanted to move there when it was feasible. Feasible is approximately one year from now. Whoa. My initial reaction is to be so excited that I can finally start living a life fully my own. No more following a path more or less laid out for me, no more living where I have been more or less told to be, but really choosing my own life path. Where I want to go, what I want to do, no one around to fall back on or bail me out. That’s amazing! I’m mostly independent as it is but this is a whole new level of independence that I have been craving. Recently, and very unfortunately in terms of productivity for school things, I have been looking at real estate in the nola area. I want a good idea of what is available so that I can take a few trips down there, look at places to live, and start making deals to set everything up. The thing that has now started making me nervous is the location of New Orleans within the US. I’m not an idiot or naïve; I realize where hurricanes are and recognize the devastation that has been left behind from Katrina simply because of the geography of nola. While looking at this real estate however, I have had my first realizations of the reality of nature in that area. I’m not saying this is a deterrent for me to go; it just makes me a bit more nervous than I originally was. It’s hard coming to grips with all of the natural differences/dangers when you’re on an independence streak and just want to break out on your own. Like I said, not a full deterrent by any means, it just leaves a lingering nervousness where it used to be fully excitement. Something interesting however, is that I’ve talked to my dad briefly about some of these things and he actually was supportive and discussed options with me. He talked to me like this was a real possibility and gave me adult advice; it made me feel like a mature adult, a real “grown up;” and while my dad has always treated me like an adult, there was something different about this, and it made me feel really good about the entire situation. So while there is definitely way more excitement brewing in me about this than nervousness, the reality of the situation has definitely come out of the rose colored glasses I had unknowingly been wearing.

I had a few other things I wanted to talk about in this entry but it is already decently long, so I think I will save them for subsequent entries. I also feel like I haven’t really described things well in this entry and that I’ve been talking in circles. It doesn’t help that I’ve been writing while talking to people as well as having started and stopped writing several times before I finally got to this point. Regardless, I guess the main point here is just to convey my excitement for future events as well as to bring up the reality that is bearing down on me about the future. I promise my next entry will be more coherent and straightforward. Adieu!

Sunt incantata!

Your Mission: Don't Lose Your Mission...

I didn't realize until this morning how much I miss having Tuesday night Young Adult meetings at church. I enjoy Sunday church; I always like learning more and soaking it all in. There's just something about sitting with a group of people near your own age and hearing a message that strikes right at the core of issues relevant to your age group. Beyond the inspiration of seeing so many young adults worshipping Him without embarrassment or fear, it's just so empowering feeling the potential of the group and having leaders encouraging us to pursue our callings.

The reason why I am so reminiscent of these meetings is because the new series we're going through in church is called "I Believe in You" and today's segment was "The Emerging Generation" namely, my generation, the young adults. Pastor spoke right to us, describing the ups and downs of our generation and the overwhelming potential we hold as a group. There is a specific verse, which was brought to my attention years ago, but every now and then crops up in my life and always leaves me evaluating what I'm really doing. The verse is 1 Timothy 4:12--"Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity." Regardless of my own reasons for why this makes me evaluate things, this verse can either be encouraging or disheartening. As a young adult, you feel empowered knowing your age doesn't make the strength of your faith. On the other hand, some may clutch to their age as an excuse to avoid responsibilities for their actions or as an excuse for their ineptitude to do what the verse describes. Pastor followed this with something else that stayed with me (I'm putting this in quotes, but I may be a word or two off--I'm sure anyone will really care, but grad school keeps my brain in constant citation mode...) he said, "Don't let anyone talk you out of your mission--God has made you for a time such as this." I've always believed that we're here for a reason and we each have a specific mission which we have to more or less figure out as we go, but every now and then having a reaffirmation of that is like getting water thrown in your face. As we trudge through all the stresses, worries, ups, downs, and in-betweens of life we forget that God has chosen us specifically, placed us in this exact moment of life, knows precisely our pasts and futures--and all things compiled, He has certain things in mind for us to do that we are 100% perfectly made for. Basically, the way I feel about it is if you're still breathing, there is still more He wants you to accomplish in life. After the monotony of life kicks in, a fresh reminder of that is wonderful; you have a reason for being, you are specifically designed for something, you still have the best coming to you because you haven't fulfilled your life's purpose. How humbling and empowering is that?

Anyway, I guess the point of this post is to appeal to my peers. Like I said, Pastor outlines the good and bad of our generation, and while I completely agree with the flaws he mentioned, there is encouragement in what he deemed our greatest strength: "[We] are the most cause-driven, mission-minded generation in modern history." Doesn't that make you want to get off your couch and prove that true? If I could've hopped a plane to South America, Africa, China, Japan or anywhere else at that very moment to help fulfill my mission I would have (granted I may be a bit biased with the "jump-up-and-go" thing, but you get the idea I'm going for). We are fully capable of just about anything! Our generation has had everything laid out for us on a silver platter and we're probably the laziest/least willing to live up to our full potential yet! I realize I'm generalizing here, but I'm trying to make a point. We (myself included) need to stop making excuses and start making progress. We have a mission; we're called, in one way or another to do it; don't let the luxuries of this world rob you of that...

A Flashback: Nola

My birthday passed in January and this year was particularly awesome. After a month long roadtrip during the summer, I discovered that my favorite U.S. city was New Orleans. So, when I learned that there was going to be a book-release party (the final book in a series I have been following for five or six years), on my birthday, in New Orleans, it seemed like fate and I decided I was going to go. This was my first trip completely on my own, not meeting up with family when I landed, and I was excited for the ensuing adventure.

I spent the nights leading up to my departure rereading the four previous books so I would be reminded of all the subtle nuances within the plot. I "got up" at 3am to get ready to leave for the airport. "Getting up" in reality was setting down the book I was rereading because there was no sleep to be had that night. I was picked up by a friend, made the long drive to JFK, which is much nicer at that time of morning while it's still dark, I might add. I made my way through the airport, found my gate, boarded my plane and settled in for the flight. I am pretty sure the flight was full--besides the two other seats in my row; a great start. I did a little more reading and managed to sleep a little before touching down in Louisiana. I got a cab and was dropped off at the edge of the French Quarter; a video camera in hand and a bag on my back was all I needed and I was thrilled.

I spent the day exploring the quarter. Got a Po' Boy for lunch, bought a few souvenirs, relaxed in Jackson Square, and just basked in the vibe that is New Orleans. I was finally able to check into my hotel that afternoon where I rested up before heading out for a quick dinner and then a ghost and vampire tour. The tour was at night and our guide, the self-proclaimed "Scary Mary" was, well, a very un-scary old lady who took frequent swigs from a flask that none of us could tell quite where it

materialized from. But the tour was fun and showed another side of the Quarter than I hadn't seen; and if nothing else, I learned a lot of interesting history about the city. I had my first beignets from Cafe du Monde that night, and was more-than-pleasantly surprised to find that basically, a beignet is funnel cake in a different shape. Fantastic.

After finally having some time to sleep, I got up early and wandered to a cafe near the Mississippi River. I sat at the bar, chatting with Murry, the bartender, who was a Pittsburg-native and enjoyed telling me things I should see while I sympathized with him over the demanding servers he worked with. I spent my time enjoying the local band playing in the corner, people-watching, and chatting with people who were curious about all of the patches on my bag. I finally left and headed to Jackson Square where the first day's festivities were to start. The author had arranged a few activities for those who were coming to the release; and day one was a scavenger hunt through the Quarter. We were put into teams of ten. The ladies on my team and myself had a great time running through the streets trying to find the answers to our clues before our time was up. We didn't win, but considering our members came from Alabama, Northern Louisiana, Washington State, Pennsylvania, New York, Michigan, and a few other places, we think we did great; especially since the winning team had two nola locals in it. The whole point was for us to bond anyway and we certainly did that. We went out for dinner at Acme Oyster House, then wandered to the hotel where the release and signing was to occur to check everything out and hang out a bit longer. After several hours of enjoying our group's company, we parted ways for the evening. One of my group-mates was my age, and at midnight, she and I went out because I had just officially turned 23. We hung around on Bourbon Street with some of the others from the book group, and ultimately found our way to a club and enjoyed dancing until we were too tired to stay. We headed back to our hotels (making sure we each got back safe) and finally slept.

The next morning I was thrilled: my birthday! In nola! (For anyone who doesn't get the "nola" thing, it's just an acronym for New Orleans, LA). I got up and headed to Cafe du Monde. The ladies from my group had decided to have breakfast together (I told you we bonded quick). I actually had a reservation to eat at The Court of Two Sisters, a famous restaurant in the area, so I saw them for a few minutes before going my own way. My birthday breakfast was absolutely prefect. It was a buffet and my server was so excited to show me all of the things I had to try and what to mix how to eat it. Everything was great. I finally has some real southern grits! After I had eaten so much that I couldn't fit anything else, he came out with a piece of cake with a candle in it and had the band sing a nola version of "happy birthday" to me. Amazing. When I finally left there, a huge grin on my face, I met back up with the ladies and we spent a few hours shopping in the open markets, chatting, and enjoying the glorious warm weather (I was walking around in a t-shirt, knowing there was several inches of snow back home). After laying in some grass in Jackson Square, and finally finishing rereading all of the previous books, we made our way to the hotel for the book release. The line was crazy--but I blame this on the setup. We were on the second floor of the hotel; the signing room was at the end of the hall, but the rest of the hall was a normal floor--meaning rooms everywhere and very little space. The line wound its way up one

side of the hall, down the other, and wrapped back up the middle. This doesn't even count for all the people that took one look at the line and left to come back later. Two and a half hours later I finally had the book in my hands. Now the race was on: read all 600 pages before the Q and A section at noon the next day. Ready? Go!

I think I ultimately slept for an hour and a half; and I still was 150 pages shy of finishing. I got to the Q and A at noon the next day and had a blast. I was talking to this one woman who was an English professor at a university up north (although I can't remember where anymore) and we chatted about the classes I teach and other things and it was really cool. The author answered all (well most-there were some things she couldn't say or she'd ruin future books) of our questions and I just couldn't help but love the community within the room. Most of the people didn't know each other but everyone had bonded through the journey that MacKayla "Mac" Lane, the main character, had faced through these five books. Her trials, pains, joys, doubts, fears, and achievements brought people from all over the country together; I love that about good books, it's like there's some kind of magic within the pages. It pulls you in; a new world full of possibilities. After the Q and A, the man who narrates the audio books (and is apparently well know/has won awards for doing so) read us a passage from the book which was great; it was really cool watching him take on the character and make it his own. Then there was a raffle and prizes given; and just like that, it was over. I left the hotel a little sad. The excitement and anticipation and everything was all in the past now. But I still had a few hours left and I was going to make the most of them. I spent the last hours of daylight lying in the Square and reading those last 150 pages. Then I finished buying gifts for people back home and grabbed some dinner to go. I went up to the edge of the Mississippi and ate. The stars were beautiful. There was a warm breeze on my face as I watched the boats come and go through the water and listened to the sounds of people and Jazz wafting through the streets at my back. I think I sat there for hours. I didn't want to leave. I knew the moment I went back to my hotel that was it. I would

get up in the morning, catch a plane, and be gone. So I sat. And sat. And sat. There is something calm and peaceful about the mixture of all those sounds all around you. It felt like another world. When I had finally said goodbye to the Crescent City, I made my final walk through the Quarter, heading to my hotel. I packed up my things and crawled into bed.

The next morning went so fast. I was up, checked out, in a cab, at the airport, and on a plane. I remember each moment distinctively; but they came and went in the snap of a finger. Goodbye nola. It was an amazing adventure and reading the chronological events here will never do justice to what the experience was like. I tell people all the time that there is just a "vibe" about the city that I love so much, and I really don't know how else to explain it. There's just a deep-rooted feeling of peace, excitement, anticipation, and adventure all wrapped up in that place for me. There's a history and a culture that will not be ignored; it seeps into your pores. The people are so friendly, nothing like the northeast. Even this doesn't do justice to the city; it's barely even a start. But I will get back there someday; and when that finally happens I will take another shot at explaining the magic that is New Orleans.

Part I: The Backstory.

For anyone who knows me personally, you know I have several blogs which hold several unique purposes. This is no different. The plan here is just to pass along things that are going on in my life and a little bit of explaining what goes on in my head (a scary thought I know, which is why it's only a "little bit"). I'm hoping to bring together some of the more exciting aspects of my life (travel and adventure) with the mundane yet necessary (and at times exciting in a nerdy sort of way) school and work things. I like to write so not only is this good practice, but I like to put my own artistic expression on things to show people how I see them. I make no guarantees on how often I'll post here. I'd like to whenever the mood strikes, yet the chaos of life will distract me I'm sure. So for anyone out there who cares enough to stalk me (become an official "follower" of my blog if you do-I'll feel good about myself, haha) my apologies in advance for the tireless hours you will waste waiting for a post from me that may never come--note the sarcastic tone.

For anyone who may not know me and stumbles upon this online here's the short version of my life (assuming I can actually tell any story in a "short" version--oh, you'll learn dear reader, just wait...) which I'm sure I will elaborate on parts of from time to time as things come up in future posts. I am currently 23 years old and in my second year of graduate school for my PhD in political science. The ultimate goal is to be a college professor. I should say, the real ultimate goal is travel; becoming a professor is just a means to the end (but one which I will enjoy in the process). That being said, travel is my biggest passion and I will go anywhere I have the chance. New Orleans is my favorite place in the U.S. and I plan to live there when school finally sets me free. I'm finally getting back into athletics like I used to be and it makes me a much happier person on so many levels. I have a B.A. in political science and French. I've been to a total of three continents (one of which is North America), eight countries (U.S. included), and (I think) 39 states. The goal: go everywhere. I realize the improbabilities (such as Antarctica, etc) but I'm still going to try to get to as many places as I can. I started going to church regularly when I was 17 and have a strong faith in Jesus Christ. My life has never been the same since I allowed Him to come into my life and He makes even the little things have meaning. I'm very open minded. Some people may not believe that after my previous declaration, but here's my advice on that: (and I say this from a political mind frame considering it's my field of study) whether you're a liberal or conservative you always hear about the "crazy extremists" on your side and the opposing. I'm willing to bet that you're annoyed that the general view of your party is based on those extremists and/or you're not sure why those extremists seem to be the most common portrayal when you're sure most people are far more moderate. Media exaggerates. War sells; peace doesn't. Basically, don't believe everything you hear. The "crazies" are not the majority. And not all people of true faith are judgmental and close-minded. So, the one request I make here is for anyone who comes upon this to show respect to me as I will to you and come here with an open mind. I welcome any and all comments or questions about anything I post, as long as you interact respectfully. Backtracking slightly, you may be wondering why I italicized "true faith" a few sentences earlier. This is a topic for a much longer post, but the basic gist is that there is a big difference between "religion" and "faith" and the world is full of hypocrites. Again, I stress not to judge a group of people by their outliers. I am currently working on campus teaching freshmen level writing courses as well as working as a server in a restaurant on the weekends. Yes, (un?)fortunate soul who stumbled here, this is the short version, and it's not even the tip of the iceberg; but, I won't go on. I think this is enough to get a feel for this author as a person so what follows may be a bit more comprehensible.

So here goes nothing: a new blog, soon to be full of random musings, pointless tales, rants, adventures, boredom, excitement, and so many other things. Good luck attempting to follow my thought patterns; I hope to hear from you as you read! Enjoy!