Words

Words - Google Chat with Mom

me: hi mom 

Mama: hi darling little fairy!me: why am im a fairy?Mama: I don't know, it just came to my mindme: oh wonderful!Mama: U alwaqys say I dont say good/nice things to ume: thats true! you dont!Mama: I think u are a fairy because u desappear and suddenly come back here to Seattle.me: hahaha, thanks! ill be back so soon too!Mama: Im going to send you my new dish,Indian style its so goodIll send you an email with it.I mean with the recepeBye the wasy, do you like Indian cuisine?me: dependsMama: on what?me: i like spice, sometimes its too blandMama: Yes it has spices, cumin and CardamonDid you buy yr tickects to SEAme: not yet, not till monday after i talk to my teacherMama:Hurry they are going to keep going up the soooner the betterme: shhhMama: What a mean nasty teacher you haveLasyme: WHAT?! what are you talking about !?!!Mama: What isnt she/he there all the time?me: no..Mama: for questions or emailsme: i have class on mondaysyes i could email, but id rather just askmore efficient in personMama: Prices changes all the time,me: i am fully awareMama: What else, Is it cold over thereme: its 60Mama: We started a little bit of rain yesterday and today its more like or fully FALLme: greatMama: Here its in the 50's and lower50 is the Maxme: i want to be cozy in anacortesMama: Why, how come?me: a lil R & RMama: I dont know what that isWhere did u go?me: Rest and Recuperationwhen?Mama: Now a minute ago since u are not answeringme: OMGMama: Yes, OMGme: for like 20 seconds!Mama: Silly!!me: geezzeMama: What that?me: you're an attention hogMama: My god!! I dont understand a bit of your new NY slangme: thats not NY slangthats an American saying by the wayyou you you, demand attention constantlyan "attention hog"Mama: Hog is chancho, geeze is it like the geeze and the gander?me: OH. WOW.geeze just means: GOSHMama: OHHH!Hog is whatme: like un chancholook up the definition of a hogMama: Hog means to me: chancho/a, which is chancha para comer, or being disgusting for something that u do in excessme: OR it means to demand a lotlike how a hog demands a lot of foodIT'S a sayingMama: i.e when step on pupp on the street because u are distrcted talking to muchme: nopeMama: that's also chanchame: not like that at allMama: okme: okMama: Well little fairy I have to go to the bank.me: OK greatMama: bye  x-(   my usual faceme: BYE

Spain - Calimocho

Calimocho, the official drink of the San Fermin summer festival in Pamplona, Spain, is a delicious concoction consisting of Coca-Cola and red wine. At first mention of this combination, your stomach twists and turns but after you experience the biggest theme party of your life, your impression changes, and you slowly begin to appreciate this beverage for all its glory. The evening blasts off with fantastic displays of fireworks, a never ending sing-along and of course, your introduction to calimocho. Evening turns into night and as you enjoy your new friends and comfortable, white outerwear, you realize...hotels' everywhere list, NO VACANCY. This can mean only one thing -- the all-nighter is in full effect. And as you and many other festival goers come to accept this common fate, your attention turns into excited anticipation for the morning Bull Run, so you persevere and continue celebrating. Calimocho becomes your tool, your methodology, and the only thing that will uphold your newly acquired San Fermin persona and allow you to catch the 3 crucial seconds of the legendary Spanish-Bull, run.

Egypt - Mr. Sandman

This character is responsible for one of the most terrifying, but most hysterical moments of my life.

In the summer of 2007, my friend Mary and I decided to take on Cairo, Egypt.

But truth be told, single Westernized women are the number one targets to hustle money from and to treat in a less than respectful manner if unaccompanied by a man .

But we ignored it the best we could and tried to focus on the fact that we were on an epic adventure.

Before we left our hotel for the Pyramids, a place renown for its occupancy of Egyptologists, our manager told us with the strictest of warnings,

"When you reach the pyramids, whatever you do, don't get on a camel."

"Ok," we replied, shook our heads, and slipped out of the hotel toward our cab.

Within minutes of arriving, we rushed toward the ticket booth and were flocked by "guides." Luckily, we bypassed them and pushed ourselves through the pyramid gates. We thought we were in the clear (ha!) because once inside and a blink later, we were resting on camels and trekking off to see the mighty panoramic views of the pyramids. We had been too weak.

Our guide referred to himself as Mr. Sandman... naturally, and wore, what I describe as, "the Onesie," which is similar to a night shirt, but extends all the way down to your feet and, I must admit, looks extremely comfortable.

However, his greatest accessory was...

hands down...

his DEA hat.

Mr. Sandman, all 350 pounds of him, and myself shared Lulu, the camel (lucky me). As we approached our destination, Mary and I proceeded to make like an Egyptian and lined our eyes with black kohl, placed gold bands around our heads, and made... photo history.

After about a half hour, Mr. Sandman reemerged and slyly asked, "Can I take a picture of the two of you?" and as I handed over my precious camera, Mary exclaimed, "Where are the camels?" All I heard was "Click."

Thoughts raced, "Oh my God, I have to somehow grab my camera from Mr. Sandman, make the signal to Mary, and start booking it across this desert... how the hell did I get here?" But those were only thoughts, in reality, Mary and I blindly continued to follow our Mr. Sandman.

He explained how he had no idea where the camels had wandered off to and how our only option was to walk all the way back. Uhh...

I was freaked out, we were too far away from anyone that could potentially help us, we were in the middle of a desert with no map, and alone with a 350 pound man.

But as we approached the bottom of the hill, Mr. Sandman turned around, grinned, and exclaimed with glee and satisfaction,

"Hahahaha, heavy joke, look!" and pointed over to where he had strategically placed the camels underneath the hill so they were not visible from above.

All Mary and I could think was,

"Yes, 350 pounds of Mr. Sandman, was a very, very heavy joke."

Spain - Out to Dry

For the summer I lived in Vilassar de Mar, Spain, I hung my laundry out to dry. Yep, I did (as it's done in most places other than the United States). But for me, it's always an adjustment and really not so bad. I'm pretty sure Mother Earth appreciates it, too.

Vilassar de Mar, Spain.

I loved our Catalan apartment, mostly our close proximity to the Mediterranean, but also because of the back balcony that opened out to a huge, empty lot... a laundry courtyard if you will.

One slow afternoon, accompanied by an estrella and rollie, I watched unknown hands stretch out from an across-the-way window and proceed to hang laundry high above the ground. I never saw the person's face - just their hands - as they busily adjusted and moved things around and ultimately left them there to dry, not in the least bit worried if they fell. I thought it was a beautiful imagery, after all, they are just things.

Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera on me, so I tried to stake out the mystery hands several times afterwards, hoping I'd capture the moment again. But alas, I came up empty-handed.

Chile - Pisco

I can remember drinking pisco pretty much since I could handle little sips from my parents' glasses. My first real alcohol experience was, naturally, with pisco. But the other night, my mother introduced me to a whole new mix, one I had never tried before.

When I arrived at my parent's home a little after midnight on a Sunday, I imagined I'd find my folks fast asleep. Ha. Not mama. Her wine from dinner (I'm guessing) had had the opposite affect on her and she was wide awake and ready for a night-cap. She pulled out her stash of Alto del Carmen Pisco (da best, apparently) and proceeded to methodically pour pisco - a shot and a half worth - into each tiny glass.

"Marcé, find me the guindas!" Mama lovingly shouted.

"Huh?" Me.

"Ugh, da sherries, Marcé!"

"Oh, the cherries... got it, Mama."

Mama, like a little school girl, couldn't stop grinning to herself. She poured the maraschino cherry juice into the pisco drinks and topped them off with a little cherry garnish.

We proceeded to drinks these for hours. We laughed, we even cried a little, but then we laughed some more. After we had played rearrange the furniture and tested out a few of her new table cloths (just to see how they would look), Mama was loving life and so was I.

By the end, Mama couldn't stop exclaiming,

"This is how Chileans duurink! You'll sleep well tonight, mijita."

And, as always, she was right.

La Mama.

Only in the Northwest - Howard

Howard. Yes, Howard. Thank you for being a part of the family. We picked you up on a whim.

Mama and I thought we needed to cheer up Bob after Jack passed away, our dog prior to you. Bob, my retired Pops and perhaps an unlikely candidate for a puppy, would soon take care of you.

So, while Bob was out-of-town, we went out to fetch you. You were tiny with enormous ears, but what you lacked in size you made up with in energy and spunk.

At first sight, Bob said, "No, thanks. What am I going to do with a puppy?"

But that's before you charmed him. One look at those ears and that love-stare you love to give and Bob was hooked. Now, you're each other's best companion and Bob couldn't be happier. And that makes me the happiest.