Tasty Chicken.

I have a full-time job. It's called Arabic.

After completing my French studies, I thought it would be fun to learn a new language. Nevermind that the class covers 15 weeks of learning in 4 weeks. Nevermind that I have 5 hours of homework each night. Nevermind that the alphabet is completely different. After one week of intensive drills and listening exercises, I am in a love/hate relationship with the Arabic language. I've decided Arabic must be male as I fail to completely comprehend him. My current feeling toward Arabic is that despite the 40 hours I've devoted to him this week, I have received little in return. But I will press on. I will win over my new foreign lover. I will shock and awe him with my repertoire of useful phrases such as "tasty chicken" and "astonishing boyfriend." I will demonstrate my talents through an exhibition of my ability to masterfully draw intricate words. I will turn his world upside-down.

Lifestyles.

"There are diseases of poverty, such as tuberculosis, malaria, and HIV/AIDS. There are diseases of affluence, such as lung cancer, high blood pressure, and type-2 diabetes. And then there are the hazards of extreme affluence, such as being thrown off a polo pony, flipping your Cigarette boat, or succumbing to altitude sickness on a vanity expedition to the Himalayas.

This point was brought home this week with the presumed death by drowning of Philip Merrill, the mid-Atlantic press baron who owns Washingtonian magazine. The 72-year-old Merrill was sailing alone on his 41-foot boat, probably without a life jacket, when he fell into the Chesapeake Bay. I mean no disrespect to Merrill or his family when I say that the risk of meeting this sort of end goes into the small but poetic category of problems unique to the rich and famous. Members of the middle class do not have to worry about falling off $250,000 sailboats because they don't have $250,000 sailboats to fall off of." - taken from Jacob Weisberg's posting Wednesday June 14th, 2006 on Slate.com

Ah yes, makes me rethink buying that yacht. I think you all should stop buying those yachts as well. I mean, this article is evidence that yachts are dangerous. Perhaps we should start lobbying against yachting. Perhaps we should make a new law. Perhaps we should merely start wearing life-jackets. Common sense. Not that I mean any disrespect because such an untimely death is indeed tragic. However, I sometimes think that easy lifestyles have made us industrialized worlders forget the harder realities of life. Not that I'm advocating reverting back to the Stone Age.

I guess I don't have a stellar point to make. Perhaps we should be more thankful. Perhaps we should take a look around. Perhaps we should find a cure for HIV/AIDS before investing ridiculous amounts on updated safety features for affluent playthings. Perhaps ....

I Would Do Almost Anything to Be in France Right Now.

Life is momentarily quiet. The calm before the storm. The official insanity commences next Monday when I start Arabic. The unofficial insanity is that I'm still searching for a job and a roommate. More details to come ....

So obviously I'm going to attempt to keep up at this blog thing. This would be the moment in my life where the "Other Tales" part of the blog title comes to pass. I can only hope that the upcoming adventures will be just as crazy and fulfilling. Join me as I step out on a few limps and try my hand at being a legal adult in the United States. God help us all!

Tyrone

Went to Tyrone today. I don't think I've been there since I graduated high school. It's such a bleak town. I went to see my good friend Shelly. We known each other since 1st grade. I think we had almost every class together until 10th grade. She was always my bus partner. She was always my friend. Seems like such a long time ago. So many memories ...

• Our attempts at making grape juice on the bus ride home from elementary school.
  
• Dressing up in various period costumes for random silly things (some things never change)
• Daily passing out and drooling on the bus ride home from high school.
• Our first trip to Washington D.C.
• Giving Shelly Cujo - an adorable but somewhat wild kitten.
  

Currently, she's working on her degree in advertising. I know she will do well at whatever she decides to pursue. She's a rocker and, of course, a little crazy. It was good to see her.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." - Jack Kerouac.

This Friday in Happy Valley Presents:

Officially started the job search today. Put in four applications. Zola's Bistro is my top pick ... will need to do some homework/refreshing this weekend as my wine knowledge is in need of some polishing. Joy. My presentation is fine. My expert opinion on pairings and other snobby things is lacking. Maybe I should drop the hint that I can barely speak French. Then my future employer will know that I have the ability to butcher any complicated culinary name I attempt to pronounce.

On other news, Stacey is screaming at the top of her lungs. God help us all. Evidently a hot but clueless stud (aren't they all) has accepted her invitation to drop by this evening. Sigh. Ear plugs are in order. I should have gone to poker tonight. I cannot play poker but it would have been a learning experience. Nicholas, next time I decide I don't want to hang out with the guys and play a manly game of poker, remind me that my fate may be an evening of mindless conversation and otherwise annoying antics. Argh.

The reason I didn't go to poker? I was tired and hungry after the gym. I recommenced gym going today. Little weak yoho is going to become big tough yoho - well, only in my dreams. Anyway, such is this friday in Happy Valley. Cheers! ... God, I miss France.

On the Homefront.

Home already. Sometimes it feels like I never left. The surroundings have not altered themselves.

Juices are from concentrate. The yogurt selection is limited. I was shocked to notice that the majority of people are chunky (to say the least). I think it will be hard to keep off weight. I didn't think I had lost that much until I stepped on a scale. I've lost 25 lb.

There are 24 hour restaurants and thick blueberry pancakes. Dairy Queen exists. Peanut butter milkshakes make me quake in my boots as do Golden Oreos. My horses and other animals are near-by and are open to endless amounts of love.

I'm at peace although I would be ready to leave at any moment. At least one more year in the rolling hills of Happy Valley. As I should bloom where I'm planted (something I've always had trouble with), I need to make the most of my time here. May a peace like a river flow through my soul. Making the day count ....

Reflections On the Emerald Ilse

The first thing that struck me about the little villes and hamlets of Ireland were the colors. Driving through Ireland is like traversing one big sea of green landscape with brief glimpses of the ocean. The bright colors of the houses break up the monotony.

The ocean is incredibly blue. I'm so glad for the water. I opened my bedroom window each night so I could listen to the waves. To walk barefoot in the surf. To feel the wind play with your hair. To see seals! Amazing.

Found a noticeable amount of grave sites along roadways and in random corners. A little beauty from the ashes. A lot of cross-shaped headstones and references to Mary. I took a lot of pictures.

Pondering the intricate inner-workings of wine making.

Sheep are everywhere. My mother experienced bliss on earth as sheep are her favorite animals. These two little fellows were particularly cute.

Caught in an attempt at a quick get-away.

Things to be Done in Irish Toilets

Our hotel this evening is a fine, old manor house overlooking the river Lee in Cork. What a splendid location! I tried to establish a wireless connection but was unable. As it had been a few days since last checking email, I desperately wanted an internet connection. A "plan B" was in order.

We booked dinner reservations at a nearby hotel. From reading The Frommers Guide to Ireland, I assumed that there would be WiFi at this nearby hotel. I hoped anyway. So I placed my small Vaio notebook in my green sack and walked to the restaurant with my parents. The plan was to slip away at some point during the meal to the nearest bathroom or lobby to try for a wireless connection. I mentioned this plan to my parents on our walk there.

The lobby was full with at least 6 attendants. I'm sure, as a restaurant patron, I would not be welcome to break out the laptop in the "for guests only" lobby. Therefore, my only option was to go to the bathroom. When I saw an opportunity, I ran in the direction of the ladies restroom. I entered a stall and started ole lappy. There I sat with my laptop, the keys loudly clicking as I typed. Of all the quirky things to do in a public place! 5 minutes pass. My mother enters the restroom and calls my name.

-Sarah?
-I'm in a stall mom.
-Are you all right?
-Yes.
-Are you sure?
-Yes, I'm sure. Everything is fine.
-You're sure that you're sure? You did eat fish yesterday and remember what happened when you ate fish in London .... Do you need anything?
-I'm fine mom.
-You're not having a movement?
-No.
-Do you want one of those anti-sick pills we brought with us?
-Mom, I'm on my laptop....

Laughter ensues. I'm sure everyone within hearing range found the whole thing quite amusing. I know that I did.

It ended up that I couldn't get a signal in the bathroom. My efforts came to nothing except a few quality laughs. Back at the Lotamore Manor, I found that I could miraculously connect to the internet.