Let’s hope that this blog is like an old friend; one of those friends whom you haven’t seen in years and haven’t even bothered to keep up with regularly.  They don’t know your latest drama at work or that you even cut all of your hair off.  Old friends are not even like the paintings that hang on your wall or the family pictures that you glance at every so often; they are the foundation.   And that is why old friends are the easiest friends.  They don’t need to know your latest drama at work and they aren’t fazed when you cut all your hair off, because they have known you for so long.  And just like old friends you can pick up where you left off and not have to fill in all of the blanks.

I am hoping this blog can be like one of those old friends…who isn’t fazed when you disappear for several months.  Who doesn’t ask where you’ve been and what you’re doing in any worrying tone.  It’s just the friend who sits down next to you and cannot wait to hear what story you are going to share.

Thanks to my old friends…I have returned to this blog.  So grab a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, and maybe even an old friend…cuz I have some stories to share!!

I kinda like the outdoors!!  This girl put away her heels all summer and slipped her feet into the hiking boots purchased at a thrift store.  For $4.99 they turned out to be the best bargain around!!  Currently they are sitting on the dock in disarray.  There are mud stains and caked on something that is going to require a deck brush to get clean.  But these same cheap boots took me to a place that I never thought I would like going.  On a hike up Harbor Mountain in Sitka, through muddy brush to get to a salmon colored beach in British Columbia, to the landing pad of a helicopter on a glacier, through silty water in Glacier Bay, along an Alaskan shoreline where salmon were spawning and bears were feasting, and now back to the city in the Pacific Northwest.  

There are many places that I have traveled to and several stamps that I have acquired in my passport.  I have visited almost all of the states in America and I am about to visit my fourth continent.  Through every single trip and every small adventure I have gained knowledge and insights into so many things.  You learn how to travel only by experience.  You learn confidence only by feeling fear.  I have learned languages while I was teaching my own.  I have changed careers because I learned how to survive and keep the journey going. 

But in the last four months I have learned more than I had anticipated about myself.  I managed to gain more perspective in exploring my own country than I have overseas.

And it is these hiking boots that took me there… 

A few years ago my parents sold the home that I grew up in and they ventured to something bigger and in the country.  Personally, I found it strange that they bought a larger home and in a place that I considered very far away from the life they had built ‘in town.’  Turns out they were hoping for the peace and quiet and simple life that you can find in country towns.  They looked forward to the wide open spaces, even if they had to spend more time mowing the lawn.  In reality, that’s what they have on their hands these days…time.  So why not enjoy it in a place that has cleaner air and less traffic?

I guess I accepted my parent’s move out to the country simply because I saw the smiles on their faces.  They were peaceful and happy and living a life for themselves and not for their children any longer.  And that is a comfort to someone who is living their own life for themselves and not for their parents.  Yet, it was with apprehension that I returned to my parent’s home just over six months ago.  With no idea of my next step, I settled into life in the country. 

It didn’t take long for me to crave the pace of the city, though.  I began packing my bags and arranging to stay at friend’s homes for a few days at a time.  I loved being around my parents but the solitude, quiet, and peacefulness of it left me feeling uneasy and bored.  Within just over six weeks I accepted a job and a new adventure on the other side of the country. 

With the pep back in my step I happily headed out to Seattle to give it another try on another boat.  This one was headed to Alaska!  A place that I never thought I would visit…and yet I didn’t know why.  Five months I spent preparing for Alaska while sitting at dock in Seattle.  Five months of imagining what it’s going to be like to go to Alaska.  Five months of exploring Seattle, a city that I fell in love with in spite of the grey skies and rain. 

At the end of those months I was left with many great memories.  I felt a new side of the city girl emerging and I was anxious to test my limits a little more up in ‘The Last Frontier’.  I came to realize that I was lacking something that may be necessary for the road ahead; until one Saturday afternoon inside of the Ballard Goodwill store. 

In the fashion of a city girl I bought my first pair of hiking boots.  They are bright yellow and black, which sums up the busy bee personality that has been used to describe me at times.  If they had actually been worn it was impossible to tell.  The treads looked brand new.  And the price couldn’t be beat…$4.99. 

In the six weeks that I’ve been in Alaska I have barely worn anything else.  These boots have helped me walk straight into a new part of myself.  This city girl has transformed!!

It’s 1993.  There is a peace agreement in the Middle East.  Terrorists attack the World Trade Center.  David Koresh is brainwashing people down in Waco, Texas.  Eighteen American soldiers, members of the UN Peace Keeping Forces are shot down by Somali rebels.  Janet Jackson is singing, “That’s the Way Love Goes.”  Both Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern have top-selling books.  Seinfeld is still on tv and Schindler’s List wins the Oscar for Best Picture.  Nelson Mandela receives the Nobel Peace Prize.  The Dallas Cowboys win the Super Bowl.  Jurassic Park is the top grossing film of the year.  But millions of women fell in love with one lovelorn widow, a clever child, talk show radio, one woman searching for romance, and a houseboat. 

The hugely popular romantic comedy Sleepless in Seattle skyrocketed the city’s popularity to something beyond Microsoft and Boeing.  Women began to believe that the city was populated with tender hearted widows and romantic vistas on the water.  In truth, there are about 450 of the infamous houseboats scattered around the city; most of which offer spectacular views of the skyline. 

Situated on Seattle’s Lake Union you can find several communities of quaint houseboats; which are more like floating homes than they are boats.  There are no motors equipped, although most of the homes have smaller tender boats in which you can take a scenic ride out into the lake. 

These last two months I have been lucky enough to live just a block from the infamous Sleepless in Seattle houseboat.  During that time I have lingered at the entrances to the dock, wishing that I could stroll along and peep into the windows.  These homes are small and unique, not just in their ability to float but also in their facades.  Each one is different in their own right and each of them share one common denominator:  they are worth a lot of money.

The Sleepless in Seattle home has recently found itself on the market.  After being such a popular tourist attraction for so many years the lack of privacy and the note of popularity would become too much for almost anyone calling it home.  Thus the home could be yours for the quaint asking price of 2.5 million dollars.

Personally, I dream of owning one of these homes.  And yet I am humble enough to acknowledge that I simply don’t have that much money lying around!  But…a dream is still a dream!

The yacht that I work for is also my home.  The refrigerators and cupboards hold the contents of food that will be cooked for me or snacked on by me just as it would in my own kitchen.  And yet we will be having very important guests on board (the owners & their family and friends) intermittently over the next four months.  And those guests will meet us in Alaska. 

In the meantime, we have to feed ourselves and plan on feeding all of them without the assistance of a grocery store around the corner.  We will be out on the water…or asea to be precise.  And that requires some serious provisioning and even more serious planning.  It also requires a very large budget.  What many average people might spend a year on groceries we have spent solely on procuring meat.  They have been vacuum packed and frozen and placed in our aft deck freezer. 

Shortly before leaving Seattle it was part of my responsibility to find a home for all of our provisions.  We needed to stuff every cabinet full of every possible thing that could fit.  We needed to assure that it was safely tucked away in the event of rough seas.  We needed to make sure we had enough toilet paper, paper towels, and tissues to last the next four months.  And so we have 5 extra large garbage bags full of nothing but chips.  We have the span of a twin bed stuffed with only a quarter of the toilet paper that we have on board.  There are 120 boxes of tissues and 30 bottles of laundry detergent.  Cases and cases of both beer and soda are stowed where customs can’t find it all at any one time!  Every possible thing that we could need for the next four months is stored aboard our ship.  And that is only part of the reason why the ship weighs over 200 tons!!

In truth there have been so many stories lately that I could easily confuse myself about what I’m reading.  Yet the stories are so good they always distinguish themselves.  As I glance at the table next to my bed, I realize that I have five different books stacked up.  The bookshelf behind me is easily getting filled, and it includes the four that I’m probably not even close to starting.  Most are books about a place far away, where the people are dealing with life in a slightly different way than I am.  There is fiction and nonfiction; but no travel guides.  The travel that I’m doing happens every night without me moving an inch!    

With my insatiable thirst for words I find myself thinking about reading while writing about what to give a reader and finally reading about writing for reading!!

And all of it is thanks to this:

 
No television.  No newspapers.  No landline telephone.  And here is the clincher…No internet! 

For the last two months I have been living on board the new yacht that I am working and essentially disconnected from the outside world.  I am not out at sea but my connection capacity is limited.  So when I first moved on I visited my local cell phone dealer and inquired about getting internet for my laptop.  At the time, I was adamant that this was a must for me.  I absolutely needed to be connected.  Internet is at the center of so much of my life; my entertainment, my bills, my ability to communicate with people around the world…everything!!

That was two months ago!  In the meantime, I suffered an infected computer and I returned all of the internet equipment.  I was never connected online and in the time it took to get my computer repaired I realized something.   

When was the last time I checked my Facebook account?  My email must be just about full by now.  I wonder if anyone has missed me on MySpace?  Strangely enough…I miss my friends overseas, but I don’t miss being constantly accessible to them.  I love that my friends and I now have real conversations over the phone, rather than just leaving comments on each other’s page.  Some friends are still only internet friends and that’s fine.  But my life no longer centers itself within that 15 inch screen and the funny noises coming from Instant Messenger.

I found a peace and quiet that I never knew I missed.  I am doing things that I am finding to be more productive and inspiring.  And I am writing and thinking about writing in a much different way.

And so the news to know is this:  I am not dissolving this blog.  However, I will not be posting as often as before.  I do want to be able to share some stories of my upcoming voyage to Alaska.  I will share and post as often as I can.  But I have to be honest and tell you that this blog has limited my writing as much as it has inspired it.  I was experiencing things for the sake of sharing with you.  I was writing to keep you interested in my journeys and I was giving too much power over to how many of you were reading this.

I am enjoying the simpler life; the one where I don’t have to post anything to feel like I am staying in touch with friends, the one where I write because I want to see it in print someday and not just on a computer screen, and the one where I am surrounded by the books that I am reading.

So will you do me a favor?  Try turning off the computer for an entire weekend at least.  Spend your day without the internet and pick up a book.  I have a lot that I would be happy to recommend to you!! 

Number one rule: don't wallow!  Being single is THE opportunity to do what you want and fall in love with the most important person in your life...YOU!

Okay...I know, that's a little bit too warm and fuzzy and 'who needs a man' feminist.  But, it's true!  So...what could a single woman do on Valentine's Day?  Here are some things I like to keep in mind...

~ It's just a holiday that celebrates romance.  And who needs a partner in their life in order to celebrate that?  Honestly!  Think about what you love about romance and find a way to celebrate it on your own.  If you like a sweet, romantic card then send yourself one.  Or better yet, send one to your best friend.  Sharing love with others is the best way to highlight the love in your heart.  If you think bubble baths are a sign of romance, then turn on the faucet and throw some rose petals in for extra sass!

~ Buy yourself flowers!  I have a habit of doing this for myself all the time.  Flowers are not just a thing that someone else has to give to you.  Flowers are a beautiful thing to have surrounding you all the time.  They make your house smell better and they brighten a room.  And they just might brighten your day!  So pamper yourself...don't wait for someone else to do it for you!!

~ Indulge in a box of chocolates.  I have never adored chocolate that much to buy it for myself.  Except on Valentine's Day.  I love the little boxes of chocolate.  The ones that have all sorts of different types of goodies inside and it's all a mystery until you bite down on one and it's true essence is revealed to you.   I love the whole act of choosing one to eat and wondering what it might be and then enjoying the yumminess of it all.

~ Cook yourself a great Italian dinner.  Don't hold back on the creamy sauce and throw in an extra piece of garlic bread.  Why not?!  If you aren't planning on kissing anyone then I say live it up!  Make the most of it and indulge as much as possible.

~  One of my little secrets is that I love romance novels.  The new chick lit, young 20-somethings main character who has a terrible job but meets the man of her dreams and blah blah blah....I love em!  I need to read these every now and then just to escape reality.  Just like I enjoy a romantic comedy.  I really enjoy watching these silly movies over and over again.  

So...here's my point:  tonight, after my intense yoga session where I focus on opening up my heart chakra...I will indulge in a very creamy and fattening dish of pasta and then I am going to enjoy a few pieces of chocolate from the box that I bought myself and go in to take a warm bubble bath where I will read from my latest chick lit book by candlelight.  Then I will get myself ready and head off to the cinema where I will watch a chick flick on the big screen and further indulge myself in buttery popcorn.

Now...all of this could be construed as medicating myself to the loneliness that I might feel on this day of couples.  But really...it sounds like a lovely way to enjoy being with me!  And although I have a lot of amazing friends out there....I also have one best friend that I never leave behind...me!  I love my company and I love making myself feel special while everyone else has someone else to do it for them.  I might have to cook my own dinner and buy my own chocolates...but I also get to read my romance novel without anyone laughing at me and I can pick the movie that I want to see and not even have to share my popcorn.  Now that sounds like a great night!

So...happy valentine's day to all of you!  Whether you are in love or in lust or still looking...enjoy this day of romance celebration and don't forget to treat yourself and to share your love with anyone who might like to hear that you care!!

In all fairness, I am getting to know a new edge to my culture.  A portion that I wasn't personally acquainted with before, I suppose.  I have, over the span of my life traveled all over this great country (minus a few bits here and there, sorry Texas).  And over the course of the last two years I have come into contact and become pals with people from all parts of this nation.  It was my ignorant belief that that experience had afforded me a genuine understanding of most of the diverse facets to our people.  

Upon moving in with two native Californians and one devoted Cali transplant I quickly learned that I come from a very, very different world.  Our cultures and our ways of being are in polar opposition in many ways.  So as I learn more and more about my Californian crewmates I am also struck with the culture that stares me in the face within Seattle.  

The fun part for me is that I think I have a sense of objectivity now more than I ever did before.  Previously when I had lived in the US I hadn't done a lot of overseas traveling and thus my perspective of our culture was incredibly limited and insular.  Now, I am afforded a sense of being out of place.  I am a visitor to my own country in a way.  This allows me to remove my rose colored glasses and put on my magnifying glass.  To look at your own culture with such acute transparency is exciting!

So...here I sit, in my Magnolia based apartment in Seattle, overlooking the Ballard bridge and in a daze with the tiny bit of sun that I watch setting in the sky.  And I am amazed at two things:  how different I feel from my Cali compatriots and crewmates (let's call them the Cali crew) and how much I adore the Seattle natives.  I find the Cali crew to be fascinating in their laid back attitudes and preferences in cooking.  I find the natives warm, welcoming, and fairly easy to talk to just like my Midwest folks from home.  Cali crew misses the sunshine more than I do, I guess I'm just used to not seeing it!  But the natives are admirable in how much they consider their environment, they create and innovate, and they look forward to a long hike or a peek of the sun.  Both groups are simple folk, but in a different way than I am.  

What does all this objective observation of my culture tell me...a million things that lead to one crucial thing to remember as an American: to remain humble.  What makes us special is our diversity.  What makes us work is our curiousity.  What can enlighten us is our conversations. 

So...the question has been:  Where in the world is CiCi?  Well, I have accepted another job on a yacht and am currently based in Seattle.  A city where it certainly does rain a lot.  A city where hybrid cars seem to be the majority and not a pricey alternative.  A city where you appreciate the sun so that you can enjoy the beauty of the mountain ranges in the distance.  A city and a part of the country where I have never been.  A city that houses some of the best fisherman in the world.  A city that does drink a lot of coffee.  A city that is known for his technology sector.  And a city where I will spend the next three months or so.

Another yachting adventure sits on the horizon... 

He continued by stating how he wasn't trying to judge me, he was just wanting to look out for my best interests.  And I believed him.  And I agreed with him.  And I couldn't give him a substantial reason for why I was going home, except that it just felt right.  It felt like the thing to do and the time to do it.  

But I knew that my time in the States, however indefinite, wasn't going to last forever.  My initial plan was to be home for only a few months.  But I soon realized that missing a place wasn't a reason to rush back to it.  I still miss Australia, for instance, but I miss it less than I did when I first left.   Plus, those places I've been living for two years were chapters in my journey that I had completed and didn't quite think I needed to revise.  And so...home was the place to be.  Because from home...you can go anywhere!  

What happened over those seven weeks was something out of a television sitcom.  I had deep and meaningful conversations with friends that I haven't seen in years.  I managed to be home at the right time for some friends.  I was able to share in excitements and help soothe some pain.  I learned of the impact that my absence has had on certain friendships.  And also of how quickly and easily you can pick up and be close with some people again.  I was touched by the fact that I was truly missed.  I spent an enormous amount of quality time with my parents.  I came to define home for myself with a little more clarity.  I spent so much girl time with my best friend that I feel the void of her now.  I came to be really happy for my friend's lives and their happiness, even though I am now even more sad that I'm not always a part of it.  

Being home for that long was so delightful.  But saying goodbye again was ever more excruciating.   

But once I boarded the plane for my next adventure, I plugged my headphones into the airplane seat and heard a song that summed it all up.  I must have listened to that song 3 or 4 more times on that first flight before boarding my second flight and notating the lyrics.  If I could rewind the clock, this is what I would have liked to have said to my friend in Prague.

 I'm staring out into the night,
Trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.

 Well I'm going home
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old. 
So I'm going home.
Well I'm going home.

 ~Home~by Daughtry

Within the last year I experienced a series of transformations; all of which have influenced, in their own unique way, the decisions that I have made.  You could say that I am blossoming.  I am getting to know myself in a newer light and that is always changing.  As we get older, this happens.  You first learn how to have a boyfriend and before you know it, you have to learn how to have a husband (I'm still trying to get the boyfriend part down)!  

We all change as we get older and acceptance of those changes can be referred to as maturity.  But my question to you is this...Do you have to adopt the changes that you see around you because it appears to be expected of you?

Okay...you know what, I'm not letting you off that easy...I'll answer that one:  No, you don't!  My recent adult life does not fit into anyone's box of expectation, even my own.  The things that I have done and seen are those that I wouldn't have dreamt for myself nor did I plan all of it.  That's travel!  

Last night I ran into an old aquaintance and he was just as surprised to run into me as I him.  He had heard that I had been living overseas and was thus confused as to why I was at a home town basketball game.  I filled him in on where I was last and where I was going for the next year and finally where after that!  "That's the kind of stuff you hear about on tv!  Wow!", he said.  "Well yea, I guess that's my life these days!", was my only response to him.  And I guess it's true. 

I've had so many moments of jealousy and envy the past few months.  I envy my friend's beautiful homes, husbands, and harmony in their life.  They seem to have things figured out.  They have someone to inquire about their day and somewhere to fill with their memories.  They seem mature and I feel like a kid next to them at times!

So I think that the grass just always seems greener on the other side.  I think their life sounds nice at times but truth is, they are envious of mine.  I want a house and they want my duffel bag.  Deep down, as much as stability and social maturity stares me in the face and taunts me with her smirk, I know that my life is the kind that you hear about on tv.  And that makes me smile as I pack up my suitcase because I get to travel the world looking for the greenest grass I can find! 

New Year's is also a time when superstition and tradition creep in.  All the world over, there are various customs that people follow on the Eve of the New Year and the first day of the year. 

In Spain and Portugal, the clock strikes midnight and everyone eats 12 grapes, one for each bell toll to bring good luck for the next twelve months of the year.  

In Russia, Grandfather Frost arrives with a bag of toys for the children.  The only difference between him and Santa is that he wears a blue suit rather than a red one, and he arrives a week later! 

In South America, a dummy or straw person is placed outside and burned at midnight in the hopes of scaring away evil spirits. 

The Japanese hang a rope of straw over the front of their houses, which stands for happiness and good luck.  And whereas we Americans start the year with a kiss for our loved one, the Japanese start with laughter in order to usher in happiness and good luck for the next year. 

In Brazil, people wear white to bring them good luck but...

In Mexico women are said to wear red underwear in the hopes of finding love in the next year. Mexicans also may walk around the block with their suitcase in the hopes that they will travel in the new year. 

In Germany, people drop molten lava into cold water and determine the fate of their next year by the shape that forms. 

And in Great Britain, the tradition of first footing is practiced.  The first male visitor to the house is supposed to bring good luck, as well as gifts, such as bread, money, or coal to ensure that the family will not lack any of these in the next year.  It is bad luck if the first visitor is a blonde, red-head, or a woman.  

So what can we learn from all these traditions?  And what might we celebrate in the world's melting pot of America?  Well, we like our champagne on New Year's Eve and we always love a party.  Millions gather in New York's Times Square to watch the infamous crystal ball drop and listen to Dick Clark count us down to midnight.  But I wouldn't mind incorporating some of these traditions into my New Year's routine.

Tonight I will welcome 2008 without a date.  I will go solo to a dinner party with close friends where I am sure I will feel very loved and yet a little lonely.  But I will wear red underwear in the hopes that love comes my way over the next year!  And I'll probably walk around the block with my suitcase so that my travels will not end this year.  I hope that someone tall, dark, and handsome will enter my (parent's) house and bring good luck to us all as our first footer.  Note to self: I must be sure and not be the first footer, seeing as I am blonde and a woman! 

I probably won't eat 12 grapes, but I might drink 12 glasses of wine?!  I will watch Dick Clark count down the ball drop and I will watch fireworks on tv and make a lot of noise in the hopes of warding off evil spirits.  I will kiss my dear friends on the cheek and hope that some nice lad might come my way and plant a kiss on my lips.   But what is more likely is that I will laugh at myself at midnight for crying in public!! 

I won't drop molten lava into water, but I will follow my Pennsylvania Dutch roots and eat pork and sauerkraut on New Year's Day.  I will not, however, refuse to change my underpants for fear of getting boils!  I will make sure our cupboards are stocked today so as to ensure they will remain that way all year.  I am perfectly happy not taking out the trash or doing laundry so as to not provoke any bad luck, sadness, or death...plus, I'll be busy watching college football on tv!  And I will be sure that I open all the doors before midnight and ensure that the tall, dark, and handsome fellow who visits me tomorrow leaves through one of the doors that he didn't enter through.

In the end, wherever you are welcoming in the New Year and whomever you are spending it with, remember that there are a lot of ways to bring good luck and happiness to your future.  The best and the easiest is to be grateful for what you have and those whom love you.  Surround yourself with people who care and I'm certain that this next year will put a smile on your face.

My memories tell me that you're supposed to wear sweaters on Christmas, not bathing suits.  Christmas is supposed to be with your family and I wanted to see my niece and nephew opening gifts and in awe of what Santa brought them.  And I wanted a white Christmas complete with snowman building and sledding!

With no snow on the ground I was feeling a little bummed about my Christmas.  I wasn't going to be able to build a snowman with my nephew or go sledding with my niece.  But I was able to watch them bake cookies for Santa and set out carrots for the reindeer.  We watched the Grinch several times and to my delight I took them to the movies on Christmas night.  Alvin & the Chipmunks had never been more funny!  My nephew repeated the lines in the movie and my niece just cracked herself up!!  And Auntie CiCi was just happy to be wearing a sweater and hanging out with these two.

But where is the snow?  Why is it in the mid 40s?  This is not Christmas!  And so I wondered, why didn't I stay on that beach in Australia?  Why didn't I challenge myself to have a Christmas away from home for once?  And then my nephew turned to me on Boxing Day and out of the blue told me, "Aunt CiCi?"  I encouraged him to continue..."I like you!  You're cool!", he said.  "Well, I like you too bubba!"  

And that's all that anybody needs to make it a perfect Christmas! 

I've been asked this question several times since I've been home and I'm not sure I have found the best answer, just yet.  Overall, I've never had a truly terrible experience...well at least not one that I couldn't manage.  I've endured the stereotyping and the nicknames but other than being called a sepo in Australia I was never really offended.  I think people enjoy Americans on the whole, as long as we're not too loud in public.  

The truth is...most of the stereotypes fit!  But that's true of any culture, really.  Americans do generally talk loud and we tend to be a bit on edge/uptight/stressed.  On average we are larger than most and can certainly be ignorant of other cultures at times.  However, we also fit the bill when stereotyped as generous, boisterous, and possibly too friendly.  My question to you is this...Is that such a bad thing?!

I would never take offense to someone calling me generous or friendly.  I think our stringent work ethic is why we find it a bit more difficult to relax.  And I don't think we're any more ignorant about other cultures as many whom I've met who are ignorant about ours.  Geography wise...I know my country and can get by with yours.  But, do you know where Ohio is?  Of course you don't...it's not in the movies!  

Stereotypes aside, I did experience the occasional whip about our political agendas and foreign policy.  I've found that most people are quickly silenced when I agree with their sentiments, though.  And I like to remind people that America is not always what you see in the movies.  But on my last trip to Prague I encountered something daring and shocking that I had never experienced before.  

She was a young, intense brunette from the Czech Republic.  She had a lot of energy and a lot to say from the moment I met her. We crossed paths in a small, smoky cellar pub that I visited with some good friends of mine.  I walked in behind a fellow American and our friend who is Czech but raised in Sweden.  We settled in and began enjoying our beers and a game of 'tell me your story.'  Since it was one of my final nights in Prague I had finally kicked the jet lag from Australia and found enjoyment in sharing what I had been doing the last year or so of my life.  Once the story swapping made its way to her she quickly shared where she was from and that she didn't like Americans.  In particular, American women. 

I smiled my best polite smile and continued to listen to her thoughts and feelings regarding my people, culture and gender in mind.  I didn't ask any questions at first and I didn't challenge her views.  I decided that being that over friendly American may be my best choice of action in this situation, so I kept my mouth shut.  That is...until she made a comment that just shook me from my silence.  

It was something along the lines of not liking Americans because of who our President is and what he has done around the world.  And I simply had to know if she thought that an entire nation of people should take the blame for the actions of one man.  And of course, she responded yes.  "You did elect him didn't you?"  Little did she know that she had responded just as I had hoped she would.  So I proceeded to ask her what it was about our dear President Bush that she disliked so much.  She shared her thoughts on his lack of intelligence and his blatant attempt to control parts of the world that are advantageous to him.  She's still playing along perfectly so that's when I asked her if she thought our President is a powerful man around the world? 

"Yes!  That's the problem!"  Well...if you think that he is powerful around the world, can you imagine just how powerful he is in his own country?  She was quiet.  Thankfully, our slight language barrier didn't pose an issue in her understanding my point.  And that's when I asked her one more time if an entire nation of 300+ million people should be held accountable for the actions of one man?  And that's when I knew that she felt stuck in where to take her argument.  She laughed it off and told me that she only said all of that to see how I reacted and suffice it to say I hadn't met her expectations.  

I guess all stereotypes don't fit.  

So, how do I think Americans are perceived overseas?  I think that we talk too loud on public transportation and we tend to get a little too drunk when we're young.  We tip more than we should, because that's what we're used to.   We aren't all rich and we aren't all fat. But we are friendly, we dress casually, we enjoy our sports, and we work hard.  And if you ask me...that ain't bad!!

These are just some of the symptoms of my post travel...blah.  I'm reluctant to call it the blues and yet it's certainly not pure happiness.  So...blah is the official term for it!

I've read a few blogs and articles relating to this subject and even lived through it with a few close friends when they returned home after traveling.  Yet, experiencing it yourself is altogether different.  I'm not quite sure how to feel day to day and I'm not quite sure what to do with myself other than obsessively look at my photos and search the internet.  My mother is probably starting to worry that I'm performing some illegal activity online because she's wondering how I can spend so much time on my computer. 

But...my computer is my only link to the world that I've left behind!!  

The most profound lesson in returning home...nobody understands what you're going through.  Now it's not to say that they don't try to understand.  My friends have listened and I think they have really taken what I've shared on board.  My parents are being supportive in reminding me that the safety of home is the best place to create your next step.  And my fellow travelers all empathize because they can imagine how I feel and many in fact remember how difficult it was for themselves.

What I have found to be the most challenging aspect of being home...my loneliness.  Why should I be lonely when I am home?  It's almost like a reverse homesickness.  I am 'home' and yet I'm more lonely than I was living on a boat in the middle of nowhere Australia at times.  Why?  And so I cry and scream out, "I don't understand!"  

But what I'm lonely for isn't my family and friends...they are here buying me beers!  What I'm lonely for is what all those friends and family have that makes me different...the person they call home.  See...I am single!  I am single in all senses of the word!  No husband, no boyfriend, no little puppy or fluffy little cat...just me!  And my hundreds of photos of all the people who filled my heart and erased my loneliness during my travels.  

The post travel...blah!  It's full of new lessons about myself and those whom I love.  It's a reverse culture shock and homesickness as I find it difficult to understand the local country folk and miss the Aussie slang.  But with all its depressive capabilities, it's full of hope and  possibility too.  I'm home, eating my parent's cooking, and sorting through my old clothes.  I spend hours online wondering what I'll do next and the more exciting question of where I'll do it!  I go Christmas shopping and meet with close friends and wait to see what tomorrow will bring my way. 

When it comes down to it...life is just life wherever you are.  I've always been waiting for the next possibility around the corner...it's just that this time, I'm doing it at home where my parent's cook the meals and I just have to wash the dishes!

Pepe has been one of those people I could always turn to when I needed some help.  He has helped me to and from train stations and airports with my luggage.  He encourages some of my craziest ideas and he always reminds me that I'm missed by always making me feel loved.  With no sleep and only a single red rose in his hand I got a hug and the welcome home that I had spent thirty hours looking forward to. 

By the end of the day I didn't know which way was up.  I was jet lagged and feeling a little out of place.  I was back in my old apartment with some of my old friends and as much as things hadn't changed so many things hadn't stayed the same either.  I was different.  They were different.  But we all felt a little more at home during those 9 days of my visit.  We shared old stories and big laughs.  We made new memories and got to know the new us.  I missed my friends and yet I knew I couldn't move back there at this time.   I met their new friends and I drank in the new bars.  I missed the people who had moved away already and those who had changed too much for me to recognize.  I barely saw the city and I focused instead on those who made it so beautiful to me.

But after nine more days in Prague and a few more all nighters under my belt, I loaded ALL of my stuff into the taxi and I headed towards the airport.  I waited patiently for the tears to come.  With every flight I have ever taken, I cry.  Whether those tears are from sadness, anxiety, or excitement they have been my constant companion on the plane.  So after arriving at Ruzyne Airport and checking in my baggage I sat down with a coffee and a cigarette and tried to get my head around what I was doing.  But the tears never came and I didn't have an answer for why I was going home.  The only reason I could find was that it was time to go.  It was simply time to go home and then figure out what my next step would be.  I didn't have any feelings regarding this move nor did I have any plans.  I just knew I needed to go home and figure it out.  So maybe it was this peace with what I was doing that kept my tears from joining me on the flight.

After nearly another whole day of traveling I arrived in Cincinnati and once again the familiarity of the baggage claim soothed a few nerves.  And then I was greeted by an old and trusty pal who had been traveling as long as I had been that day.  The difference is that I could watch movies and sleep whereas he sat behind the wheel of his car and drove from Green Bay, Wisconsin to Cincinnati, Ohio to pick me up and drive me home to Columbus.  Now that is a friend! 

We made our drive to Columbus and spent the entire two hours sharing stories and catching up.  I met up with my parents for a beer and I started to comprehend what I had done.  By the end of the day my tears had arrived.  I was home and I didn't know why.  

I've only been home for five days now and already I am planning my next step.  Although I know that I should take some time and adjust I also know that there are a lot of places that I still dream of going.   I want to shop for a new duffel bag and search for jobs in warm climates.  I am enjoying my parent's home cooking and I am indulging in every whim and fancy that I have missed overseas while I organize my photos for a night of slide shows.  I am catching up with old friends and spending time with my parents.  I'm trying to learn how to drive on the right side of the road again and I feel like a tourist in my own city.   

But I enjoyed a delayed Thanksgiving dinner even though I'm giving some Christmas gifts early.  I don't know if I will be here for a few more days, a few more weeks, or a few more months.  But right now I am home...in Ohio...and my tears are dried up!

Over the years I have learned to accept that help and compassion of others so as to not put out their flame.  And what I found in return are countless lessons of not just human decency but pure love.  Albert Schweitzer, the 1952 Nobel Peace Prize Winner, puts it perfectly;

Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us."

As I find myself in the midst of yet another transition period, where I must leave some friends in order to say hello to others, I am comforted by the flame that has been lit inside of me.  I have been filled with such selfless love and compassion that I truly marvel at how much I have been able to experience in this world.  

And so for all of those people who have lit the flame within me over these last two years of travel and helped to keep it ablaze, I say....thank you, děkuji, khawp kuhn kah, merci, ta!  I dedicate this day of American Thanksgiving to all of you!

What I will share is this...I have grown.  I have developed a deeper understanding of more of my life's desires and an intimate discussion with my heart and spiritual soul has honestly begun.  I came to Australia in the hopes of experiencing a boating adventure and spending some quality time with myself, and I succeeded. 

I learned...alot!  I cried.  I laughed.  I cursed.  I faced heaps of fears.  I made amazing friends.  I saw unbelievable sunsets and even more amazing sunrises.  I boogied boarded.  I got sunburnt.  I climbed a bridge.  I got out of debt and then right back into it.  I watched a lot more television than I drank beer.  I wrote.  I read.  I pondered.  I meditated.  I didn't quit smoking.  I challenged myself.  I did manual labor.  I went shopping.  I got a tattoo.  I loved.  I didn't hang out with Americans. I dreamt of owning a beach house.  I learned about boats.  I picked up some of the Aussie language.  I got tan lines.  I cleaned toilets.  I got a boat license.  

And two days ago, I hugged my close friends in the Brisbane airport and I said goodbye.  I wanted to say see you soon...but I know that I need some time to figure out if that's possible.  There are so many stories that filled that time between sipping my sweet lemonade and when it went sour...but they just aren't important anymore.  What's important is what you choose to do when life hands you sour lemons.  I added vodka and I smoked a cigarette and I bought a plane ticket.  The rest I will share soon....

I was facing a crisis of conscience and another unexpected fork in the road.  Yet again I would have to examine my life at present and ponder what it is I want for my future.  It wasn't anything new to me as I have faced several forks in the road since I started traveling and plenty more before I ever got on the plane.  This is what life is to me...a continual exploration either geographically or spiritually of my path in life.

So with so much time to think and an inability to communicate very much while out at sea I was given a blanket of time to delve deep into my thoughts, fears, and desires.  And with the boat rocking and rolling and crashing up and down I was left seriously questioning my decision to work on a boat.  My stomach did constant flips and I could barely keep my eyes open.  I was scared and often disappointed in myself.  I wasn't able to cook all of the meals as I was supposed to.  I wasn't able to even get out of bed at times.  I was hoping I could find my sea legs really fast but I was becoming skeptical that I would even find them at all.

After two and a half days of constant cruising, aside from a daily stop for fuel, we pulled into Port Albert in Victoria.  This was the home of two of the fisherman on board and this happened to be one of the oldest sea ports in all of Australia.  With the mutton bird gales blowing the mutton birds along their path from Siberia, we were left blowing into port and tying up for a few days.  The weather would be preventing us from going anywhere for a while and the reality of life in Port Albert was putting another cloud above my head...one in which I really didn't think there was a silver lining to be found!

With days of simply waiting out the weather ahead of us, the crew became restless and the escape route was planned.  A car was retrieved and everyone made the two hour drive home to Melbourne...except for me.  The reality is that I was already home.  Wherever the Gramac is, that's where I am.  So if the Gramac is left in Port Albert waiting for 40 knot winds to die down for a week, then I'll be right there with her! 

There was no lining to be found in the Port Albert cloud.  It was lonesome, beyond boring, and painfully dreadful in most ways.  I was beyond cabin fever and instead had never felt such a sense of wilderness.  I was in the middle of a town where there was absolutely NOTHING to do.  I wouldn't dare walk into the pub across the street as I feared the men who frequented the establishment.  This was a small, small country town full of country people.  And we were the talk of the town.  Everyone came out to take photos and the only way I could get a sense of privacy was in shutting the curtains and leaving them that way for days.

But with the charm of Port Albert behind us, we finished our final leg of the journey in a spectacular way.  We took a two hour trip from Port Albert pier and pulled into Refuge Cove on a Friday night.  The rain followed us so we couldn't test out the fishing, but we grilled up some steaks and sat down for a serious round of cards.  After having spent more than a week with some of these guys I had grown confident in my ability to share in the smack talk.  Cut throat euchre had never been more fun than when I continuously caught old man Snow reneging time and time again!!

The next morning I awoke to one of the most beautiful sights.  This cove was stunning and the morning sunrise shone such beauty that I was left on the bow with my cup of tea simply admiring my view.  It felt like a dream and it was then that I saw my cloud's silver lining.  The fork in my road still didn't make a lot of sense and I had no idea which path I was going to take just yet.  What I did know was that I was finally experiencing the delicious lemonade I was able to make when I came to Australia to begin with.  This view in front of me was what I came here for.  The experience of waking up on a boat in this gorgeous cove of the sea surrounded by such natural beauty...the cloud was lifted and I enjoyed the lemonade!

The next morning we embarked on our final burst to Melbourne.  We estimated it would take 6-8 hours to reach home port and we made it there in five.  We did a test run to Martha Cove, where Mick is building a new house and the Gramac will be the flag ship boat in the development.  And then we made our way into port in Williamstown.  With one look around I knew my cloud had truly lifted.  Across the bay was a perfect view of the Melbourne skyline and in the opposite direction was a park full of couples holding hands and children playing with friends.  Cafes lined the main street and the peace that filled the air was something that I had been hoping for.

With the maiden voyage behind me and only one day of sea sickness to account for I was ready to tie her up to the jetty and get my feet back on level ground!  Somewhere between the Gold Coast and Williamstown my path became clearer.  I knew how to make lemonade out of my symbolic sack of lemons and I couldn't wait to explore the silver lining of my cloud.

To this day I still admire my parents for having shown us so much of my own country.  I was very lucky as a child to have parents who wanted to explore it all with their children and wanted to give us a chance to see so much.  Of course we took tours of places that I found boring and never appreciated at the time and unfortunately since I was so young on most of our trips I don’t remember a lot of what I saw.  But I know that they took us and I know that they saved their money and made it the best vacation they could for us.  We experienced bumps along the way, like an overheated VW van on our way to San Francisco.  We had to pay a lot of money to get that repaired enough to get us home yet unfortunately had to continue our journey in a rental car for a few days (which came to be a blessing once we drove up and down Lombard Street). 

So I guess you could say that my love of travel was instilled in me at a young age.  I was brought up with an exploring and curious spirit and as I grew older the desire to see more never waned and instead the scope of my interest grew bigger.  With my first trip overseas not occurring until I was in my mid twenties I had spent a lot of time on the road in my own country before the rest of the world came into reach.  With that first trip to London my whole world changed.  The world itself was now closer to my doorstep and my interest in seeing more doubled overnight.  I found a new interest in photography, foreign beers, and foreign accents.

Fast forward five years and my world is still changing.  The more I travel, the more I learn about myself and the world that I live in.  But that isn’t anything you didn’t already know.  That is why so many of us travel.  What I have continuously found insightful on my travels are the challenges that I face and my ability to handle them, and the people that I have met that have touched my life and those whom I have been able to touch with my own spirit.  That is why I travel. 

As the boat left the Gold Coast and the maiden voyage of the Gramac began, I remembered all the trips that my family and I took in our VW van.  I remember driving across the country to see the Grand Canyon.  I remember driving all night until we reached the beaches of Florida.  I remember spending hours walking the strip of Myrtle Beach and the even more famous one in Las Vegas.  But as the boat smashed along the sea and the roar of the engines droned on and on I remembered how much of those road trips I spent asleep.  I never got car sick, but I wasn’t awake very much either.  And for the two and half days it took the Gramac to get from the Gold Coast to Port Albert in Victoria, I wasn’t awake enough to know if I would get sea sick!!

The cabins were full and the boat would remain at capacity for our entire journey.  Mick had arrived with a crew of three old fishing buddies; men who had spent years and years at the helm of their own fishing fleets.  These guys were knowledgeable in a way that we needed.  They knew the best routes, they knew what to do when the sea got rough, and they knew how to handle themselves around the boat, all things that I was ignorant about. 

In classic Aussie style they began their quips at each other.  Nicknames were always used as opposed to given names and nothing was sacred if seen in front of another. 

I kept my sea sick medicine hidden and secretly had an inner dialogue concerning whether I should go out to sea au natural or just pop the pills and try to beat the drowsy side effect.  Before I knew it I was exposed and a discussion regarding the dos and don’ts at sea were laid out. 

1)      Never take sea sick pills because the side effects are not worth it.

2)      If you begin to feel sick, go outside and get yourself some fresh air.  Find the lowest point on the outside of the boat and just sit, relax, and look at the horizon.

3)      Ginger tea is a natural anecdote for motion sickness and should be used before any medication at any cost.

4)      If you can’t avoid getting sick, don’t worry about it…just let yourself vomit and you’ll probably feel much better once you do.

5)      When cooking, don’t spend too much time looking down.  If you’re cutting something, be sure and look up as often as possible to avoid nausea.

6)      If sitting in the wheelhouse be sure and keep your eye out for buoys indicating a dropped pot.  We wouldn’t want to go straight over these as the lines could get caught in our propellers.

7)      Enjoy the ride and keep an eye out for dolphins and whales…we’re bound to see quite a few along the way.

8)      And finally…remember that this trip south is not totally indicative of what all boating is like in Australia.  The seas are rough once you turn the southernmost corner and expecting this will spare you any future disappointment.

Within one day of uncomfortable warranty negotiations the boat was full of contractors and a lengthy to do list.  Each contractor had his job assignment and I was left to oversee it all and provide the final approval.  But as I lay in bed with the flu I was beginning to be concerned about my abilities.  I wasn’t feeling up to the task that day and all I could think about was whether I would be up for what was to come.

With to do lists completed and grocery lists written out, a final farewell party was the last thing for me to fulfill.  During my four months of waiting, more than half of my time was spent alone and getting acquainted with my job.  An enormous amount of time was spent enjoying the solitude but in the end I pulled myself out of my shell and out of the boat and began to make some very good friends.  My final month on the Gold Coast was a whirl of excitement.  The weather was improving with each passing day and my social calendar was filling up a little too quickly.  Festivals were taking place and dinner invitations were accepted.  I began to crave social contact again and I found a wonderful group of people who made me laugh and showed me another aspect of Australian culture.  So the goodbyes were bitter sweet. 

Excitement about the beginning of my boating experience was around the corner.  I was set to embark on the maiden voyage of Gramac V; a trip that I was naïve about in so many ways, including the total length of the journey.  I picked everyone up at the airport, we purchased the necessary groceries, and we planned out our route.  Within days my locale would finally change.  I would no longer receive the same dinner invitations and as much as I was looking forward to what was to come, I was concerned about what I was once again leaving behind.

I don't know what it is about that deafening boom, the resulting sparkle in the sky, and the lingering smoke that fills the air but fireworks always make me feel five years old!  Once I see that first burst of light into the sky I have an undeniable urge to hold a sparkler and sing songs.  I want to wave a flag while my feet dig deeper into the soft, cool grass.  Fireworks are the pinnacle of what I consider any great patriotic celebration...at least it was where I come from.

I don't know what it is about travel, but I have never felt more American and more patriotic than I have in the last two years since I left the States.  Having removed myself from my culture and having had the opportunity to compare my culture with others I have come to appreciate and understand what it means to be an American more than ever.  And isn't that strange?  You learn more about where you're from while you're gone than you do while you're there! 

So for the last two years I have had to create my own patriotic celebrations to honor the holidays I have come to really love.  For me there are two holidays that really define Americana, Fourth of July (Independence Day) & Thanksgiving.  These are two days in which Americans celebrate being American and with their own flair.  Never mind that I have come to love the taste of all beers not American...Budweiser is my beer of choice come the fourth day of July!!  I will always prefer chicken over turkey...unless it's the last Thursday in the month of November and then I want my turkey with all its trimmings and a word of thanks!

This year the Fourth of July came and went without any fanfare or fireworks.  I wore a red and white dress and chose to eat a hamburger at dinner rather than pasta.  But all in all the day went by unnoticed other than the images in my mind of years past.  I imagined the fireworks and I thought of the bbqs I was missing.  I drank a lot of beer but it was Australian brewed.  I took a moment to ponder how I was feeling with it all but then I was jolted back into reality and back to polishing silver.

Two months too late...but I found myself having a belated Independence Day celebration down here in Australia.  Brisbane is one of the larger cities in Australia and is often referred to as Brisvegas or just Brizzy.  Every year Brisbane hosts an evening of celebration along it's river banks known as Riverfly.  Jets soar past emitting a spectacular trail of fire in its wake.  And fireworks are launched at three simultaneous barges along the river and on top of several notable skyscrapers.  The Story Bridge lays a gorgeous backdrop for fireworks that cascade like a waterfall and hordes of boats crowd the river with their decks full of people.  

With the first burst and boom and spray of color in the sky I was transported back to my childhood where Fourth of July marked the peak of summer delight in our lives.  I was overcome with excitement because I hadn't been able to enjoy a fireworks show in so long and it didn't matter if I was in Australia and it was the beginning of September, I sang "God Bless America" and drank my Budweiser beer proudly.  I was the token crazy American that night...but I never felt closer to home and more proud of my nationality.   

That's right folks...I have been in Australia for three and a half months and aside from some small trips to Melbourne I haven't moved!!  When I arrived the boat was due to handover to the owner and our adventure would begin.  Although handover was late, by about 6 months, the happy day came in the middle of June.  I had been here a month and I was brimming with excitement over the journey that would soon begin.  I have lived full-time on board the Gramac since the middle of June and in that time I have managed contractors and tradesmen to repair problem after problem.  And the problems just continue to arise!!

With the complete rebuild of one engine finished and new propellers being tweaked before installation I am left with only a few remaining issues.  Most notably...what have I gotten myself into?  And...how much longer can I hold on?

Like most major decisions in a person's life, at least mine in the last couple of years, these are not easy questions to answer.  So instead I focus on what I can do today to make my life the adventure I had wanted it to be upon arrival.  I believe that each day we have a choice regarding how we will approach our life and its inevitable ups and downs.  I prefer to do my best to make my life fun and exciting as often as possible.  

And so...with apologies for my absence I hope to share with you just a little of what I've been doing to keep my sanity and make life exciting, while tradesmen continue to take their time and remind me that time operates differently down under! 

Imagine my disappointment when I awake and those colors aren't there to pull me out of bed.  I lay there hoping that something will miraculously change before I crawl out and begin my day.  I lay there wishing there was some way that I could change the nightmare that I know will follow once I throw on my robe and make my morning tea.

Each day that awaits me is full of sunshine and various mechanics and engineers who are all eagerly awaiting the completion of their work and looking forward to the day when we can all take a step back and marvel at the vessel.  Every day we get closer and closer but every day seems the same to me.  I know that we are moving forward and yet we are still stagnant.  Still stuck in the same boring marina.  Still waiting for the purr of the engines to drown out the purr of the air conditioning. 

People may come and go from this marina.  A few friends have been made and stories at sea have been shared.  But I have nothing to share.  No adventures on the water to contribute to the conversation.  I sit and listen and learn.  I fill my head with those colorful dreams at night and I manage the work during the day.  I cook myself dinner and read my books.  I play pool with my new pals and watch movies to help me escape the boring reality.

Phil Connors, a Pittsburgh TV weatherman sent for another exciting assignment in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania one bitter cold winter is aware of the frustrating lifestyle I speak about.  Connors found himself once again having to cover the exciting festivities surrounding his old friend Phil the Groundhog.  But Connors has always loathed this day, "a thousand people freezing their butts off waiting to worship a rat."  He soon became stuck in my nightmare when a blizzard blows into Punxsutawney and Connors awakes to find that it's Groundhog Day again...and again...and again!

Bill Murray made this movie one of the funniest comedies of all time.  But the storyline extends beyond the comic relief and religious folks have used it to highlight the human condition for years.  So as I sit and wait for my boat to be ready, I find myself waking up to Groundhog Day and wondering what the point is in all of this.  I rub my Buddha amulet around my neck and am comforted in knowing that life is always full of ups and downs.  It is your attitude that affects your experience and I am pushed to find the peace in this frustrating circle of day to day life. 

To remove myself from the redundancy I take a deep breath, do some yoga, drink some beer, & share with other crew members my frustration with my Groundhog Day life.  They all agree and we all fall asleep with a quiet hum in the air and the hope that tomorrow we can leave this marina and move on to bigger and better waters.  One day soon it won't be Groundhog Day.  One day....soon...Phil will not see his shadow and I will be treated to an early spring...out on the high seas!!