tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14171600399806090122024-03-14T08:31:42.696-07:00Ciao Bella!Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-56855201075577791302010-07-30T12:28:00.000-07:002010-07-30T12:49:39.287-07:00Continued musingsAlthough we are home from Europe, life continues. We just returned from music camp, where we go each year in the Sierras. I will post some pictures. But now I am truly home for the summer and ready to settle in again, get back to my real life, and reflect on how the past two months have changed me.<div><br /></div><div>I have made some amazing friends from all over the world, and thanks to Facebook I can keep in touch with them, even in French with one!</div><div><br /></div><div>I may have already said this in previous posts, but I am immensely proud of Cierra for her fortitude and general good attitude in all situations. I am so lucky to have her as a daughter!! When she was thirteen and had her bat mitzvah, I expressed my awe of her strength, self-esteem, and positive outlook on the world. I also mentioned how it is very hard to be depressed when in her presence. She is so ready to laugh, to connect, to see what is good in any situation. And this made her a wonderful travel partner. She really is a trooper and truly a bright light in my life!</div><div><br /></div><div>When we got back from camp we decided we wanted some new pictures on the walls. I realized that most of the posters and pictures on my walls are either of mothers and children, or of friends and women alone. And this is really the picture of my life and who I am surrounded by. Cierra was so enthusiastic to help make changes in the "feng shui" in our apartment. So we looked for some prints online that show romantic/love images, and then went to BB&B to get some frames. So we shall see what manifests from this! We are strong believers in Law of Attraction :-)</div><div><br /></div><div>This week Cierra has an intensive five days of Irish Dance Camp. We are in Dublin, (CA) for 5 hours a day. She's gonna be in great shape! I am sitting in a Starbucks typing away, enjoying some self-reflection. </div><div><br /></div><div>We hope to continue this blog, not just for travel times but mother-daughter stuff in general. Thank you for reading and commenting!</div><div><br /></div><div>Ciao,</div><div>-Jessie</div>Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-83816716361090433712010-07-12T10:40:00.000-07:002010-07-12T11:00:09.942-07:00Post travel blues<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsFxS0lxSZFj3XM9Lz6egm474NPLQDQwHSpWCAqti9jUK6Pv4Z_8hUsKtfEQfOUiRk5-qfBNSH2wIaEUNJxGOcstXC1KKnangwuevOwt22Zcozo9t-daZy2oHhlclfAKvoEKnuuYup-LF/s1600/IMG_1986.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsFxS0lxSZFj3XM9Lz6egm474NPLQDQwHSpWCAqti9jUK6Pv4Z_8hUsKtfEQfOUiRk5-qfBNSH2wIaEUNJxGOcstXC1KKnangwuevOwt22Zcozo9t-daZy2oHhlclfAKvoEKnuuYup-LF/s200/IMG_1986.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493078755860302386" border="0" /></a><br />Good morning,<br /><br />Wow, Cierra blogged! I think going to London, Paris, New York, Zurich, Madrid, Rome, Barcelona, Dublin, etc.. Would be a great adventure. In Paris we met a young Korean woman who was doing this sort of trip, seeing the big European cities. So go Cierra!! So glad I was able to start you on a life of travel.<br /><br />Today is Monday, July 11th<br /><br />I woke up today feeling inexplicably but intensely sad. I think this is probably partly due to the fact that I am still adjusting to being back, and feeling out of sorts and disoriented. Trying to reconnect with friends, and also with myself. Trying to reconcile all the things I went through for the past month, and to process the emotions that were most likely on hold while I was in travel and survival mode.<br /><br />I think I had tremendous fear about my trip. Mostly related to the financial part of it. I’m just beginning to sift through the layers of this and how it took over my life for at least the past 9 months! But the fear was not only about this trip. It has to do with much older issues about me and survival, and my ability to be successful, a "real" grown-up, etc.. I think I mentioned in a few blogs that during some of the lower points on the trip I felt like a failure. But I wasn’t really failing at anything specific. It was more a sense that when things were hard I blamed myself and was sure that there was something I should have done differently or better in order to have avoided the mistakes or the negative experience. It also seemed to me that if I had more money, I could just hop in a taxi, travel first class, buy an expensive dinner instead of walking a mile to a cheaper place, stay in a four star hotel that was more conveniently located.. When I was not able to stick to the spending plan I had for the trip, this was proof to me that I was failing and that I probably should not have taken my daughter to Europe in the first place. And there were so many little things I had not anticipated. In retrospect, aside from a few emergencies and the food expenses being so high, I did okay. But I ended up using a credit card at the very end and this was not part of my plan. I will be able to pay it all off within 2-3 months, but the point is that the fear I had about the finances in the first place made it harder for me to even go to Europe without having a credit card as a back-up, and using credit cards is not something I do in my life anymore. <br /><br />Where the fear set in was throughout this past year trying to save for this trip, but really struggling to do so. When I would tell people I was going to Italy and France, I had this sense of them thinking I must have a LOT of money, and therefore I didn’t deserve to complain about my money stress. But the truth is, it WAS too much for me to do financially right now in my life. I see now that I handled the fear and the planning for the trip in what is typical fashion for me. I try to force solutions to all the things I’m afraid of, but in doing so, I don’t have an open mind, and then I get myself into more difficult circumstances. So, for example, when I got advice to possibly shorten the trip, I was stubborn and didn’t want to do this. In the end, I was so exhausted and ready to come home by then end of June, it really would have been fine to come home then. (A week early). We would not have seen Paris, but there could have been other times in life to go to Paris! And I also think in terms of negative absolutes – “this will be the last time in my life I’ll ever get to go to Europe, because I will grow old alone and poor” – is a typical way of thinking for me. Sad, but too often true.<br /><br />I don’t write this to beat up on myself more, but to try to learn from this and to assess why I am so sad today. Cierra went river rafting with her dad, and I’m alone with my morning, my cats, and my intense emotions. Listening to Jack Johnson, sipping tea. The learning continues, even back here at home.<br /><br />Last night I went to visit my brother and sister-in-law in Berkeley. I sat with my little niece and nephew and watched a movie, cuddled up on the couch with them. I think it was the safest and most comforted I have felt in a long time, holding their little bodies and smelling the baby's little head (you know that baby head smell?). I suppose another part of this sadness is just being alone, not having someone to talk to before I go to bed at night or when I wake up in them morning. So for now, my blogging is my way to be less alone, to talk to and connect with you all, and to share some of this soul struggle of a life lesson. I hope my mood will lighten soon, and I will be able to focus on positives and to go through my life lessons with grace.<br /><br />-JessieJessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-38916241078952632202010-07-10T20:17:00.000-07:002010-07-10T20:56:38.790-07:00There's No Place Like HomeEven if it's just for a little while, being at home is the best thing in the world after a long trip. As it just so happens, I'm leaving again tomorrow morning for a rafting trip on the American River with my dad who used to be a river guide. So I'll be there until the Fourteenth which is the day we get home, and then I'll have a day here and then my mom and I leave again on the sixteenth for music camp. I know. I really never stop. And after camp, I have Irish Dance camp for 5 days! Oh, and on top of all that, two of my teachers from my school next year have sent out summer assignments. Yay my favorite. -she says with a disgusted and sarcastic tone- I have to memorise (and understand) two of Shakespeare's sonnets and prepare a song for musical theatre and for honors English, I have to read and annotate 2 books AND read the first nine chapters of yet another book. -sigh- Being smart is NOT all it's cut out to be that's for damn sure! <br /><br />Wow, reading through this, I just realized how much I complain! I mean here I am, going to this amazing high school and having the time of my life this summer and all I can do is complain about it? Jeez! There must be something seriously wrong with me! Well anyway, on to more important things. I really enjoyed my time in Europe and I just CAN'T wait to go back someday. Speaking of which, I had this thought in the airport in Boston. Basically, when I'm about 19 or maybe 20, I want to travel around the world, visiting the most important and well-known cities, starting and ending with the one nearest to where I live. Now, this is where you come in. I need help making a list of these places that I should go and the number of days in which I'm to see them. Any suggestions? I realize of course that this will not be for another five or six years but hey! Planning a trip takes time and believe me, it's no picnic! I'd LOVE to hear your ideas, so please comment!<br /><br />Now, back to returning from my trip. I've been getting pretty tired at around 5:00 p.m but trying to stay awake until at least 9:00 so that I'll sleep in in the morning. The time difference has definitely been the one thing that's just totally thrown me off. Don't get me wrong though, I find the whole thing really interesting but it's kinda tripping me out. But oh well it's all part of the fun I suppose. Well, like I said, I'm pretty exhausted so I'm going to say so long and farewell to everyone out there in cyber land!<br /><br />More soon!<br />Until next time then<br />xoxo<br />-CierraJessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-12723141108760144352010-07-09T12:51:00.000-07:002010-07-09T13:39:39.825-07:00Home Sweet Home<meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment-->Thursday July 8<sup>th</sup>, 5:10 pm ay Boston Logan Airport.<span style=""> </span> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Been traveling since 5:00 a.m. France time, which means we have been traveling since 8:00 p.m. yesterday, San Francisco time, and wont get home till about 11:00 p.m. tonight.<span style=""> </span>Basically that’s about 27 hours of traveling straight!<span style=""> </span>Took the metro to a bus to an airport about 1 hour outside of Paris.<span style=""> </span>Then flew to Dublin where we had a BLEH.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m so relieved to be back in the US.<span style=""> </span>I can’t wait till this last leg of the journey is done.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But the computer is very low on battery juice, so I’ll just add more tomorrow.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Friday, July 9<sup>th</sup></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m HOME!!<span style=""> </span>Wow.<span style=""> </span>Never have been so happy to see my little apartment before.<span style=""> </span>It actually is a HUGE apartment by European standards!<span style=""> </span>Cierra is still asleep and I’m going to take one of my cats to the vet.<span style="">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Here are some pictures of Mical And Claudia's Apartment so you can see just how good we have things here:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHrqHIlQ9FY7KfhpTqCAJF47mvQvMjLweqIOxzVkf2kqyCS8mCRzohiPaUym9ksiAuWjpRcfDIgjR9w-xhZ3TEqEXrnMFrw_pwgkTKYLv_qF6rg5FG09oRHLpewogE2fZLy6xWGc24d30/s1600/IMG_1874.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHrqHIlQ9FY7KfhpTqCAJF47mvQvMjLweqIOxzVkf2kqyCS8mCRzohiPaUym9ksiAuWjpRcfDIgjR9w-xhZ3TEqEXrnMFrw_pwgkTKYLv_qF6rg5FG09oRHLpewogE2fZLy6xWGc24d30/s200/IMG_1874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491999600546492882" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">This is the living room where Cierra, Miraa, and I slept. Cierra is still sleeping in this picture.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">These are pictures of the kitchen:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJBxtO7oaVB9EZDFiVWwtt4V5U8Fp0OZRXh-xoa0yLgNPCpcTDF8gtZ0Z2-SQTuIroegEloZwuo90kEVOk6UR7_KgUNlkws2qMyp-GYpSvPt-z3sYnfGtGBf7GYvTx-7DyQj5rXW06VuS/s1600/IMG_1876.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJBxtO7oaVB9EZDFiVWwtt4V5U8Fp0OZRXh-xoa0yLgNPCpcTDF8gtZ0Z2-SQTuIroegEloZwuo90kEVOk6UR7_KgUNlkws2qMyp-GYpSvPt-z3sYnfGtGBf7GYvTx-7DyQj5rXW06VuS/s200/IMG_1876.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491999621683386082" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmy5LbZ0b4_Of8VAw-AeBlDEwBUWmHtiq0IGt9h_zEi428WG24g6aiAPwfb6PTmNt5Ge7X0AhyphenhyphenCeytkF27TDlVJ8PFC4uWMRDsdc3EDxHiZUr8eck8VgVP3mNJizbZbIDyMJ3DtW1Rj7J/s1600/IMG_1877.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmy5LbZ0b4_Of8VAw-AeBlDEwBUWmHtiq0IGt9h_zEi428WG24g6aiAPwfb6PTmNt5Ge7X0AhyphenhyphenCeytkF27TDlVJ8PFC4uWMRDsdc3EDxHiZUr8eck8VgVP3mNJizbZbIDyMJ3DtW1Rj7J/s200/IMG_1877.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492002759932736242" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">And this is the hallway.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKhhwenXW2E-JPLLjHP_NDCf_JYfa1gKkEGR_fYlAMwUqvpEJmKmsVlKpdiTrTuKjEnMGGkztYTvDo1OjnFbsFlu93QT9eyat0H8iD_dhRJRXPsgzvoYE-DHTavrOQuaMoGqt2GqLJ-hT/s1600/IMG_1875.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKhhwenXW2E-JPLLjHP_NDCf_JYfa1gKkEGR_fYlAMwUqvpEJmKmsVlKpdiTrTuKjEnMGGkztYTvDo1OjnFbsFlu93QT9eyat0H8iD_dhRJRXPsgzvoYE-DHTavrOQuaMoGqt2GqLJ-hT/s200/IMG_1875.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491999607599587314" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Bathroom.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmJTZpa1awKRqdhf7omfZbPgFqgmJW7hLs85-JxGGpV1mqQpPMM384KMs0ts_Nj946-MjIEsxIEJnFqnzQ6lcn4nhEnh2O5KyqOeAH-gPs644oa1X_mgi_IC3QmMOk4BgPZTxWlsFDQxZ/s1600/IMG_1878.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmJTZpa1awKRqdhf7omfZbPgFqgmJW7hLs85-JxGGpV1mqQpPMM384KMs0ts_Nj946-MjIEsxIEJnFqnzQ6lcn4nhEnh2O5KyqOeAH-gPs644oa1X_mgi_IC3QmMOk4BgPZTxWlsFDQxZ/s200/IMG_1878.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492002747732465250" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">The other room is M&C's bedroom, but it was small too. They said their apartment was actually really big. Many people live in just one room, kitchen, toilet, and all. C'est la vie!</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, there are still several things to post. There were two other places we went to in Italy - Vicenza and Lake Como, and still much more to say about Paris, and the travels in general. I must sleep a bit more. I hope Cierra will do more posting! (HINT HINT).</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Happy to be home, looking forward to Thai food, going to the movies, and running at Phoenix Lake :-)</p><p class="MsoNormal">-Jessie
<br /></p> <!--EndFragment--> Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-20353981619447131412010-07-07T17:01:00.000-07:002010-07-07T17:44:41.250-07:00Sleepless in Paris<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Tuesday, July 6<sup>th</sup></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just back from seeing L’Arc du Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Had a huge French meal at a restaurant my brother took us to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was delicious but I’m glad I walked a few miles afterwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve pretty much given up on being gluten free and today just decided to eat all the bread and pastries I wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> It is hard to find a grounded place with food when traveling. So much of the time I feel like I have to just be okay with what is. The result of course is that both Cierra and I are having gluten reactions. For me it's a lot about rashes and perpetual itching...</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Paris this week has been amazing. So full of experiences I think i could write a whole book just about this week!</p><p class="MsoNormal">Some Paris highlights were spending time with Mical and Claudia, seeing some incredible historical buildings. I'm in love with all the statues and sculptures here. Being in the Louvre for almost 6 hours and only scratching the surface of seeing the art there, using my very very rusty french again which I studied for eight years but haven't used for about 25 years! Pictures will have to wait a few more days because it's too late tonight for me to download. We went to Montmartre today. Saw the Moulin Rouge, the Jewish section, a view of the whole city, some really amazing musicians playing on some stairs, and then tonight Cierra and I went to the Arc Du Triomph AND the Eiffel Tower. When we got there they were sparkling lights on the entire tower, which aparently they do every hour for about 15 minutes. We had perfect timing and got there just around midnight!</p><p class="MsoNormal">July 7th</p><p class="MsoNormal">I'm wide awake at 2:00 a.m. and have to be up at 5:00 to take the metro to a bus to an airport to fly to Dublin, the Boston, then finally SFO. I get incredibly anxious about traveling so it's no surprise I can't sleep. Had a great and intense last day here. Some things I can't post in this blog but suffice to say this has been quite a week in PAris. Our timing was not actually so great for Mical and Claudia because of how long they have had people staying with them and how much they need their apartment to be their own again. But we all had a good talk today and then went to see more of the city and to get hot chocolate at a famous place near the Louvre called Angelina's. It was by far the best, creamiest, richest, bestest hot chocolate I will probably ever have in my life. Claudia also gave me a beautiful gift today. A green necklace that she got in Rome. It's incredibly beautiful and I think it will attract wonderful things and people into my life. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I am so glad to be coming home! Things I miss most about home:</p><p class="MsoNormal">Ice, electric fans, swimming pools, air conditioning, my car, my cats, gluten free eating, cold things to drink when it is hot, knowing what to expect, convenience, my friends and my family (who are not here), taking a bath, uncrowded spaces.</p><p class="MsoNormal">What I will miss about Europe:</p><p class="MsoNormal">Mical and Claudia, speaking French, really really good food, Pain au chocolate, the beautiful things I see at each new turn, great public transportation, learning new things (sometimes the hard way), hearing several languages spoken all around me at once, things that are more than 200 years old. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I have learned a lot these past 26 days. And there are, of course, so many things I would have done differently had I known what I know now. But the mistakes are part of the whole experience. I definitely got to see my own resiliency as well as Cierra's! I'm very proud of her. She was a trooper and put up with me when I was falling apart. She's a good traveler and really has been able to appreciate all of this. We have about 24 hours of travel ahead, so I'll hopefully write more on the plane.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Bon nuit, or bon matin! it's 2:47 a.m. Mon Dieu!</p><p class="MsoNormal">-Jessie</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <!--EndFragment-->Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-29972060574417930432010-07-05T01:04:00.000-07:002010-07-05T15:09:59.333-07:00Shabbat Shalom in Venezia!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvR_IqO6mmvpTSRqplTouIrBFAbz-vRWwclGk-ASCGZ8tT-0eo6AprJtuFouvVMte9qrdpJs0yAvvBFwHOUlogub8ToiKgVaKlHIv8GX680iwHiODytBWuqoLj_ZSh_PtLOBkyyFxboSe/s1600/IMG_1373.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" 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text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Fp5K6UXyzzmJsRustvg-RX9QBmQP8Q4dXMHg5AUDf8jQ26YjiB_jBWoNM6G8JKoyjXegHbvR2bJyUTgs8A6hWlz5bHNubw1nf8GlPCgiRAwpfVdWJePVyiOvC9va_IyyaEZBW8kTFW22/s320/IMG_0596.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490333289270117730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQty_sckgWFE2Isx2tYkOx3iVFJjwANjJyieqZDF1zCISRvFnKNrp1ToxF9HhWwTB9iJ3U3BmzFB4UfBPFSv32GWLg7hPtPzFBnC0ZnUfnheQg1WVNUrjS5njZzbPsEFG2M5_ARGCHDcXI/s1600/IMG_0590.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQty_sckgWFE2Isx2tYkOx3iVFJjwANjJyieqZDF1zCISRvFnKNrp1ToxF9HhWwTB9iJ3U3BmzFB4UfBPFSv32GWLg7hPtPzFBnC0ZnUfnheQg1WVNUrjS5njZzbPsEFG2M5_ARGCHDcXI/s320/IMG_0590.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490333269879711746" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXb0cHlsxLU4kYCLltTQf37PxT7F1Ymc5N7S1SP1nfEnTRWz1o2g26_RZgQnaOhCfTJZ-7EYRaCLUsaGwWhW6XyXEkudLR1koOvw8tT-AkFgejfiIZEZfw3-LjGH-LB5BHEQWI4vVqBon1/s1600/IMG_0559.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXb0cHlsxLU4kYCLltTQf37PxT7F1Ymc5N7S1SP1nfEnTRWz1o2g26_RZgQnaOhCfTJZ-7EYRaCLUsaGwWhW6XyXEkudLR1koOvw8tT-AkFgejfiIZEZfw3-LjGH-LB5BHEQWI4vVqBon1/s320/IMG_0559.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490333253473619234" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Saturday, July 3, 2010</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Still in Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s rather stormy today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Thunder, lightning, etc..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m grateful because it should cool things off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s a little after 9:00 am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cierra is still sound asleep and I’m listening to the storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We’re staying in D’Alesia, a neighborhood in the left bank in Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The apartments in Paris a TINY.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This one is supposed to be one of the larger ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All I can say is that we American’s are so used to SPACE, we have no idea how little space you can live in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are five here right now, Mical and Claudia, Miraa, Mical’s mom, and Cierra and I.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Miraa flies home on July 5<sup>th</sup>, and Cierra and I on the 8<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s a one bedroom, and a small living room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have always complained about the size of my kitchen at home but this kitchen is half the size of mine!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m going to take some pics of the apartment to give you some idea of the space, but it takes me a while to upload my pics on this computer because I'm usually fighting over it with Cierra.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Somehow it’s working out fine in the apartment, even having Mical and I being sick, and in the heat and humidity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think you learn how to move differently in smaller spaces, and to simplify what you do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not sure what we will do today.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This evening we go for dinner to a home of some of Claudia’s cousins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her step father, Jacky, is French so this is his side of the family.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Maybe we will hit a museum before that.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, I want to try to catch up and I must write about Venezia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I booked a hotel for us, I ended up finding a pretty good deal in what I thought was Maestre, the City on the mainland closest to Venice, about 10 minutes by train or bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But where we actually stayed was in a place called Magheara, a town just south of Maestre.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This would have been okay if we had a rental car, or even if there were more busses going in to Venice, but the reality was that we arrived on Thursday evening June 24<sup>th</sup> and we were told by the people at our hotel there would be a strike of all the busses, boats, and trains on Friday from 10-1:00.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I asked her if we could go earlier in the morning on the 9:15 bus, and she said yes, they would be running earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So we went up to our room and got ready to head into Venice for the evening, to look around and have some dinner there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had a nice evening, though we were tired, and were able to make decisions about what we would do there the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Our bus back to the hotel left at either 10:20, or not until 12:00 midnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So we caught the 10:20 p.m. and got back about an hour later.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The bus was not so nice.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>People were drunk, some smelled bad, and it was packed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">The next morning we got up early to have breakfast and catch the 9:15 bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At this point in the trip, I had started getting sick with a cough, and I was trying to ignore it as best I could because we had to see Venice!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So we had breakfast and went across the street to wait for the bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We got there about 5 minutes early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was one bus that came, but was going into Maestre not all the was into Venice, so we didn’t get on that bus (1<sup>st</sup> mistake).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We waited with a large group of people, mostly all tourists trying to head into Venice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was a group of Russian Gymnasts, about 8 little girls, their parents, and a couple of their guides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They began to worry too when I explained what I knew about the strike.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We all waited anxiously for almost an hour and eventually many people began to give up and go back to their hotels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Two young women from England said it was about 9 Kilometers to Maestre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I figured we could walk there and see if there was a cab or maybe a train we could get to Venice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>9 Kilometers is not quite six miles, but I was determined and we didn’t want to wait half a day in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So we started off (2<sup>nd</sup> mistake!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The walk went through a kind of industrial area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was very little shoulder on the side of the road for us to walk, and the cars were whizzing past us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cierra was mad, I was frustrated, and felt so powerless yet determined to get there somehow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This would have been a good time to practice letting go, trusting, and waiting, but I was stubborn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We walked for about 4 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Eventually we saw a place across the street we could get some water and I wanted coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So we went there and had a rest.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Cierra went to the bathroom and I looked across the street and saw the bus pass!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was furious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So we went on walking feeling liked we had been tricked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Somehow I took the stupid strike personally.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I began to beat up on myself – the failure that I am and putting Cierra in this situation, and this was the low low point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I started crying and asking God what I should do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>About another mile later we saw a hotel across the street and we decided to ask how much it might be to take a taxi to Venice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They told us it would be at least 40 – 50 Euro, in other words, a LOT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But then another bus went past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He told me that the strikes do not include everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Individual drivers decide themselves if they will drive. So we went back across the street and waited for the bus and eventually another one came!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We took that into downtown Maestre and then caught another bus, who also was not striking, into Venice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We got there at about 11:30 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If the woman at the hotel had explained that not ALL the busses would strike then I might have avoided the mistakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> But getting into Venice after the morning we had had was wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We started wandering through the streets, stopping in shops, taking pictures, etc..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The day was great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a Friday and we knew from the guide book that there was a Jewish section of Venice, where the original Ghetto was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There are about 5 synagogues there and since we felt in need of some sense of connection, we thought we might even be able to attend Friday night services.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had a small hope that we might get a feeling of belonging, something I knew I was in great need of, but I also had more doubt than hope that we could find this feeling of belonging in Venice Italy, of all places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So we took the boat to the ghetto, and when we arrived, we started to see some kosher food shops and restaurants, shops selling Jewish items – mazzuzahs, posters, manoras, etc..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We came to where the synagogue was and met a man who looked religious, a white shirt, black pants, wearing a yarmulka. We asked him about services and he explained that they started at 7:30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He gave us some candles and told us the women first go to light their candles at the Gam Gam restaurant around the corner from the synagogue, and then they go into services.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He also invited us to have dinner with everyone from the congregation at Gam Gam afterwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I still had doubts that they would really let us eat dinner with them, or I assumed if they did it would cost a fortune, but I was open to what was unfolding.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We almost were not allowed to go into the synagogue because we did not have our passports with us, but they just asked me a bunch of questions and sort of “screened” us, and told us not to leave before the services ended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So in we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The women sat separate from the men, and we had this kind of wooden barrier between us and the men, not without holes carved in it, but enough so that we felt very separate and it would be hard for the men to look at the women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am assuming this was the point, because the men should not be distracted from their prayer..?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The service was, of course, all in Italian or Hebrew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were other visitors there too, so Cierra and I didn’t feel out of place. But the Hebrew was spoken so quickly, and not very lyrically, which is what we are used to.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was able to recognize a song, and Cierra was able to recognize a little of the Hebrew, but it was a vastly different experience than we are used to at our reform synagogue in Marin!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvR_IqO6mmvpTSRqplTouIrBFAbz-vRWwclGk-ASCGZ8tT-0eo6AprJtuFouvVMte9qrdpJs0yAvvBFwHOUlogub8ToiKgVaKlHIv8GX680iwHiODytBWuqoLj_ZSh_PtLOBkyyFxboSe/s1600/IMG_1373.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvR_IqO6mmvpTSRqplTouIrBFAbz-vRWwclGk-ASCGZ8tT-0eo6AprJtuFouvVMte9qrdpJs0yAvvBFwHOUlogub8ToiKgVaKlHIv8GX680iwHiODytBWuqoLj_ZSh_PtLOBkyyFxboSe/s320/IMG_1373.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490333777477306754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl3S89m0Xn4c-0t8lZ8Vexvl9lqoRVLP7HEcV_K-y7jMDQkbSO8cWYnmpZMfEqTLh187M_CgAp1T-S06nfeL9f4Y4epwRBs_kceZOYQLNQ4sjsk6Iw_Gg5LlZ7AhNzawGM7kCkiBPib4x/s1600/IMG_1370.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl3S89m0Xn4c-0t8lZ8Vexvl9lqoRVLP7HEcV_K-y7jMDQkbSO8cWYnmpZMfEqTLh187M_CgAp1T-S06nfeL9f4Y4epwRBs_kceZOYQLNQ4sjsk6Iw_Gg5LlZ7AhNzawGM7kCkiBPib4x/s320/IMG_1370.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490333761121082146" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbQPCN9dpo7BK052BUYjtGZGl3Fbc9OaoIKI0J8EoOMTSzjY8mDo-IfRUbR-3Tx_U5a8waxNhvm2qkPcAcgbBKF6P6MN0ngMvYaET8ZVpqzM45pNFuPJJeSYo9UgU347Nj0ku7dLZ5AxL/s1600/IMG_1368.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbQPCN9dpo7BK052BUYjtGZGl3Fbc9OaoIKI0J8EoOMTSzjY8mDo-IfRUbR-3Tx_U5a8waxNhvm2qkPcAcgbBKF6P6MN0ngMvYaET8ZVpqzM45pNFuPJJeSYo9UgU347Nj0ku7dLZ5AxL/s320/IMG_1368.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490333327646749250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After services we timidly walked toward Gam Gam, and once there, were welcomed by the rabbi who asked where we were from and then ushered us to a table!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He was so warm and friendly, I felt like we were being invited into a friend’s home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We sat with other Americans and some Canadians, and had one of the most delicious meals we have had on this trip, and of course we ate challah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was very very grateful throughout the meal.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Cierra couldn’t get over the experience of having plenty of food to eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When it was getting close to 10:00 p.m., the meal wasn’t over but we thought we should catch out bus home and started getting ready to leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The Rabbi asked us why we were leaving and I explained that we had to catch a bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He then invited us to stay over because he had an extra room!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was completely floored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We decided to stay later to catch the later bus and finished the meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We left very full and happy, and were not charged a dime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So it was as if we had a home away from home for the evening.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The Rabbi also invited us back the next day for services and then lunch, but I said we were leaving the next day for Vicenza.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So that is the Venice story.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Pretty amazing and wonderful after a rough start!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">More soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Ciao!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">-Jessie<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-2876666361056430582010-07-02T07:08:00.000-07:002010-07-02T07:51:21.735-07:00Cinque Terre, Trust, and Bathrooms<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnjtdEZwHU-MMfRYWF6yn_iGsr3tp4RZCObIWjIP0EhCkDvDUxmQoLPZ2i4vo3rZGh8ZpR_aCx1YiLixqH40rCYYs27Zz1m9YYPRjiZg1gTIHqtME2cCBdrDm3-a-jdeJ7wMrBMK15i9q/s1600/IMG_1216.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNRmcUQV5K2GR04QZBnjlHAVsrZpXy1rVMS-jJv-O_ZY9mWAB9r79rixq_f1Z3BPP7nikPzjyN2mS-xDswiLdaFP-tMJ-HFDhC1nBA3fa5d_jXhjN88wDC1FAO7StcQOb_0grezF67GYw/s1600/IMG_1190.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><div style="text-align: center;text-decoration: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></div></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0r0nWykQnDvhgjLF6Z98vB4jCiPl-EmzcKt9ENm7QDax9mNNwIHw5-U5f4aZdb4wMMsP9j6aKH9fmSKTXzqPepPeQ5-mRGgdB8YmkoDAs6X0Bdk2oJHuw2V_82oqvswX7MpOq7FXRmMDJ/s1600/IMG_1178.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0r0nWykQnDvhgjLF6Z98vB4jCiPl-EmzcKt9ENm7QDax9mNNwIHw5-U5f4aZdb4wMMsP9j6aKH9fmSKTXzqPepPeQ5-mRGgdB8YmkoDAs6X0Bdk2oJHuw2V_82oqvswX7MpOq7FXRmMDJ/s320/IMG_1178.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489316659535725698" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Hello,</p><p class="MsoNormal">It's July 2<sup>nd</sup>,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> and we are n</span>ow in Paris, It has been many days since I have been able to write and we have had many ups and downs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I’ll start with where I left off.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The bizarre bathroom experience occurred on our trip from Cinque Terre to Venezia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had about an hour to wait in a train station, so after our Indian “kebab” lunch, I searched for the loo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I found some people waiting outside of three doors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Beside each door was a machine for you to put .50 Euro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The machine told you what to do, in Italian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When a woman came out of one of the doors, I figured I’d just go right in instead of paying the .50 E.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Bad idea.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Luckily a nice tourist also in line pantomimed to me that the bathrooms are self cleaning and of you go in when the other person emerges, you will be sprayed by the soap and water that basically is like a car wash for the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So luckily, I waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The door, like a high tech elevator door, slid closed and I heard the water being sprayed in the little room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I thanked the guy, and waited till the machine told me to put my money in.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When I went in, the door closed itself, elevator style, and I noticed a red button you could push in case you got trapped in there!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then everything in there had a button.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The toilet paper, the flush, etc.. really tres bizarre!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Before our train came I told Cierra she had to try it, and she was as weirded out as I was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But before that, we were in Cinque Terre:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tuesday, June 21st</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">We got to Cinque Terre late on Tuesday afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We stayed in the 2<sup>nd</sup> of the five towns, Cinque = five, terre = land, so literally it’s the five lands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Our town was called Manarola, and it’s one of the smaller towns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Each town is kind of built on a steep peninsula. I LOVED it there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Manarola is actually built over a stream that runs down the mountain and so parts of the village are built above or around this stream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can’t quite describe how magical it was to get off the train and find the restaurant of the people who rented us a room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The restaurant was down near the center of town close to the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We talked with the owner who then told her husband to take us to our room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I first thought we would be in the building above the restaurant, but we were told to follow this nice man, the husband, who began walking us up the road through the town. As we walked he and I tried a little communication in French and Italian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was very VERY steep, and we kept climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cierra was carrying her backpack, but mine rolls on wheels and the very nice man was pulling it for me, so I had much less to carry, and could begin to take in the things I was seeing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s like a dream, the beauty and perfection of this place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We finally got to our room at the tippy-toppest part of the town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Above this the hillside is all filled with gardens and more trails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was all so breathtakingly, almost shockingly beautiful, and I felt like the luckiest person in the world to be there!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our room was clean and airy, with a small balcony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Here is the incredible view from our balcony:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cLSg27gIJhoafgddLUaapZQ7QHxtrPw6DK4DKZXzLtwEqdtwxcYhp7IV7VzD2DgfdbdBYYMfpsajhp9R0x33xJrKNc-oKjYQEb69YyrajZvxWwsV4GoYOqe97cdn4mHBeVRWQXVEFcZx/s200/IMG_1163.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489313118812147666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></span></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After settling in we changed clothes and took our time walking back down into town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieZpueodF3-1qSdkNdhAnxe7mTS7hpJZ2umLajFukM8BHyzyW0wnC20I_I4eIZWJbMJ9McGs_fZVJHflKG49m63w-3n3NgNF1uQroUhWAwLgMhyphenhyphen7uDFWAY6kAAF8wVnzz0vaw6t6TE21m/s1600/IMG_1160.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieZpueodF3-1qSdkNdhAnxe7mTS7hpJZ2umLajFukM8BHyzyW0wnC20I_I4eIZWJbMJ9McGs_fZVJHflKG49m63w-3n3NgNF1uQroUhWAwLgMhyphenhyphen7uDFWAY6kAAF8wVnzz0vaw6t6TE21m/s320/IMG_1160.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489314613693251570" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></p><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cLSg27gIJhoafgddLUaapZQ7QHxtrPw6DK4DKZXzLtwEqdtwxcYhp7IV7VzD2DgfdbdBYYMfpsajhp9R0x33xJrKNc-oKjYQEb69YyrajZvxWwsV4GoYOqe97cdn4mHBeVRWQXVEFcZx/s1600/IMG_1163.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2Y_pm6AeipHZk8Xk6NHZbZcw-4dRs2jzxehrD5KTv_ZUQjz0Uuc2cvo_f3BJEzbPMfrS7gSQ8MulB67Evxj7icchgg8KNX66WuOybBTy7QtsIdLf0JsMvmN-CHndiC7Apy7bqx-d4Oec/s1600/IMG_1162.JPG"></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2Y_pm6AeipHZk8Xk6NHZbZcw-4dRs2jzxehrD5KTv_ZUQjz0Uuc2cvo_f3BJEzbPMfrS7gSQ8MulB67Evxj7icchgg8KNX66WuOybBTy7QtsIdLf0JsMvmN-CHndiC7Apy7bqx-d4Oec/s1600/IMG_1162.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2Y_pm6AeipHZk8Xk6NHZbZcw-4dRs2jzxehrD5KTv_ZUQjz0Uuc2cvo_f3BJEzbPMfrS7gSQ8MulB67Evxj7icchgg8KNX66WuOybBTy7QtsIdLf0JsMvmN-CHndiC7Apy7bqx-d4Oec/s200/IMG_1162.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489313102652625106" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>We then bought a two day Cinque Terre pass so we could hike the trails and take the trains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We decided to hike to the third town of the five, Corniglia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>By this time it must have been 5:00 pm and the hike was still pretty hot, but gorgeous.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNRmcUQV5K2GR04QZBnjlHAVsrZpXy1rVMS-jJv-O_ZY9mWAB9r79rixq_f1Z3BPP7nikPzjyN2mS-xDswiLdaFP-tMJ-HFDhC1nBA3fa5d_jXhjN88wDC1FAO7StcQOb_0grezF67GYw/s320/IMG_1190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489316668192259858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Cierra and I were very tired though, having gotten up at 5:00 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So we stopped for a drink in Vernazza, the fourth town:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnjtdEZwHU-MMfRYWF6yn_iGsr3tp4RZCObIWjIP0EhCkDvDUxmQoLPZ2i4vo3rZGh8ZpR_aCx1YiLixqH40rCYYs27Zz1m9YYPRjiZg1gTIHqtME2cCBdrDm3-a-jdeJ7wMrBMK15i9q/s1600/IMG_1216.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnjtdEZwHU-MMfRYWF6yn_iGsr3tp4RZCObIWjIP0EhCkDvDUxmQoLPZ2i4vo3rZGh8ZpR_aCx1YiLixqH40rCYYs27Zz1m9YYPRjiZg1gTIHqtME2cCBdrDm3-a-jdeJ7wMrBMK15i9q/s320/IMG_1216.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489316699047780066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedHBpbHzGDzAL432dhlPVWSdyc62g-Td0RpEqlEE2_jgZS6ZXnjPXaTK1SSD93dmxYWWOxSnSWuHZv-keJx2GUZRVOzmVDqW97OjzGd39mcXsM-HqFu-Dq9b8VJ4NVZlkTh2qXKzDf4Xm/s1600/IMG_1215.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedHBpbHzGDzAL432dhlPVWSdyc62g-Td0RpEqlEE2_jgZS6ZXnjPXaTK1SSD93dmxYWWOxSnSWuHZv-keJx2GUZRVOzmVDqW97OjzGd39mcXsM-HqFu-Dq9b8VJ4NVZlkTh2qXKzDf4Xm/s320/IMG_1215.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489316682411155506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNRmcUQV5K2GR04QZBnjlHAVsrZpXy1rVMS-jJv-O_ZY9mWAB9r79rixq_f1Z3BPP7nikPzjyN2mS-xDswiLdaFP-tMJ-HFDhC1nBA3fa5d_jXhjN88wDC1FAO7StcQOb_0grezF67GYw/s1600/IMG_1190.JPG" style="text-decoration: none; "></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNRmcUQV5K2GR04QZBnjlHAVsrZpXy1rVMS-jJv-O_ZY9mWAB9r79rixq_f1Z3BPP7nikPzjyN2mS-xDswiLdaFP-tMJ-HFDhC1nBA3fa5d_jXhjN88wDC1FAO7StcQOb_0grezF67GYw/s1600/IMG_1190.JPG" style="text-decoration: none; "></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNRmcUQV5K2GR04QZBnjlHAVsrZpXy1rVMS-jJv-O_ZY9mWAB9r79rixq_f1Z3BPP7nikPzjyN2mS-xDswiLdaFP-tMJ-HFDhC1nBA3fa5d_jXhjN88wDC1FAO7StcQOb_0grezF67GYw/s1600/IMG_1190.JPG" style="text-decoration: none; "></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">then we took the train back to Manarola and had a nice (expensive) dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We then went back up to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The next day was also breathtakingly beautiful. These pictures don’t even do it justice!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had to leave the next morning which was sad, but we had a train to Venice to catch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This was when we ended up in the crazy toilet train station.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was another long day of travel north and it took all day and several trains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The trains in Italy are very different then I remember from when I was a teen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They mostly smell bad, are packed, and hopefully you get a train with air conditioning.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So when I planned this trip, I had images of being on the trains based on my experiences of 25 years ago, and I was in for a rude awakening! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The worst part is that being in Italy, getting information from anyone is like pulling teeth, so most of our train experiences were stressful, frustrating and exhausting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They also warn you in the guide books that on the Italian train system, even if you buy a ticket, and it has the date on the ticket, you still have to validate it in these little yellow boxes before you board the train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The boxes on not on the platform, but are inside the stations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If you are caught on board with an un-validated ticket, you get a large fine from the people who work checking tickets on the train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On one ride I realized I had forgotten to validate our tickets, and I waited anxiously for the duration of that train ride to see if we would get caught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We almost did, but the conductor got involved in some other problem with some passengers tickets, and he never came and checked ours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Phew!!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">One thing that has struck me often on this trip, are the differences between me as a teenager, and Cierra.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I unfortunately was raised by parents who did not really take care of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Both emotionally and physically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I grew up struggling with really bad situations that were extremely difficult or painful without having a parent who could help me solve problems or who might take some responsibility off my young shoulders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have done years of work on myself to try to learn how to trust in the world, to feel that I deserve to ask for help and to receive help, and that I don’t have to do everything on my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But being a single parent often re-awakens the old experiences of having huge responsibilities that were so overwhelming as a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So you must guess where this is leading, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Being alone with my daughter in Italy and traveling on multiple trains trying to get help from people who mostly don’t speak my language and who respond to requests for help in gruff or even hostile ways was a re-triggering for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> I see how I tend to go through life with a worrisome cloud over me, and it shows on my face. </span>I mostly feel I've handled it okay here, but there were several times when I would feel like I wanted to hop on the next plane home and as if I have failed in bringing Cierra to Europe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> It doesn't make a lot of logical sense, but that's about as best I can describe it right now. </span>It was emotionally exhausting for me and it is only now, writing from the relative safety of my brother’s flat in Paris that I realize why it was a rough week for me in many ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cierra is different when there are problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She gets worried, but she also knows I will handle and take care of things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She has had the experience since birth of two parents who take care of her needs, and thus she has such a deep sense of trust in just being in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She doesn’t mind taking up space or depending on the help of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She doesn’t have deep shame and feels good about herself most of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I see it in her as we wander through Europe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s nice to know she has this solid self that I am only getting a grasp on now in my life.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So I will write about Venezia next time. Venice was where we had the best high and the worst low of this trip so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I’m hot and have to go out to the store for some vegetables to make a kale salad tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s 4:00 pm and wont get dark here till about 10:30 tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m praying for cooler weather tomorrow!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ciao, Au Revoir, bon nuit!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">-Jessie<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-71897289077303371592010-07-02T03:33:00.000-07:002010-07-02T05:31:00.819-07:00<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Paris, Books, and Other Random Things</b></span></div><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Lost track of what the date is but I know it’s Wednesday.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> Ok so remember a couple of posts ago I was talking (well appreciating) the hot Italian guys? (If you don’t, then I really don’t know how to help you) but anyway, I, being in the midst of all these gorgeous, shirtless Italian boys, simply just couldn’t resist…</p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdh6aWdkiVFXCg1f2ud6s-KRf36xevQW3xOx6Xr0rau6g7Wru70OUdrGSuGvrauIH64szP_d1hxL3ESWQ0z2eurI8DKQ_EaEqCrUHwuvebJaAuxmI0PGAdMsjHY15vf7ulSissknVqggd/s200/IMG_0472.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489267667192692834" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinH7wGk91uIAeyyOXHQ3L_efzG8CtaZ22JHLObQMxs13IJ0PH7OVSBOr_VocZecKiuOkjfrQfBqGk6L-CLcpuQvjadbWasSneH_Rgagd7Jw0enoAov7jYKG0je0WVcOywEtUEJfGlyTNqB/s200/IMG_0499.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489268214646632290" /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Friday July 2, 2010</p><p class="MsoNormal">Well, seeing as that post (the one above. you know, from Wednesday?) was not nearly long enough, I thought I would finish it today.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I'm in Paris now, and boy am I glad! We are staying at my uncle's little flat and we have Internet and free food and it's just great! But on to more important things. Yesterday, I had my first real croissant and got to see the Notre Dame (which was A-MAZING!) HOWEVER, I do have one complaint. It's hotter than hell! It's supposed to cool down tomorrow though, so hopefully that means we can go SHOPPING! God I hate being hot. It makes everything, and I mean EVERYTHING more difficult. It always makes it hard to focus or get anything done... but I'll stop complaining...for now.</p><p class="MsoNormal">So you know how I finished that book <i>Runaway</i> like a week ago? Ya, well since then I have been without a book which has really not been good considering all the waiting I had to do in the past nine days. It's very strange for me when I have nothing to do because I am so used to just doing one thing after the next and never stopping. There's always somewhere we have to go or something I have to get done, so when all I have to do is wait, I get antsy. And it's bad too, I can't sit still which means I get more hot then I already am! But you already know ALL about that!</p><p class="MsoNormal"> You know what I recently discovered? When you're hot, one of the simplest ways to cool down is to just stop moving. Of course this is a bit difficult when you have a forty pound backpack on your back... But back to books. So yesterday, we found this little bookstore (an ENGLISH bookstore) which turned out to be the Shakespeare And Company bookstore. (Apparently, it's pretty famous.) So, I got two books, one of which being <i>Through The Looking-Glass</i> by Lewis Carroll. (but you already knew that) So I am no longer without a book which, my friends, is very happy news indeed.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">JABBERWOCKY</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">"Twas brillig, and the slithy toves</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">All mimsy were the the borogoves,</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And the mome wraths outgrabe."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">This is by far one of the greatest nonsense poems in the history of English literature! And this is only the first stanza! I've always loved the stories of Alice and if you haven't seen the new movie yet, you should! It's was so well done (as Tim Berton's movies always are) and it's well cast too so if you haven't seen it, hurry up and do so and if you have, then see it again!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Well, that's all for now. I'm too hot to really write anymore so Au Revoir!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">xoxo</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">-Cierra</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-47956037589207918782010-06-26T14:59:00.000-07:002010-06-26T15:37:54.084-07:00The frustrations of foreign travelOkay, this is the KVETCH post. If you don't feel someone traveling in Europe has anything to complain about, you may want to skip this post!<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">Monday, June 21<sup>st</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal">After the wedding on Sunday the 20th, everyone pretty much left town the next morning. Cierra and I left Santa Therese area and headed to the West side of the Island to Alghero, where our flight would leave the next morning AND which is thankfully the same airport where Cierra’s backpack was sent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We got a ride there with my brother’s friends Scott and Laura.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The trip to Alghero took a few hours, but was pretty much uneventful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Except that Scott was really cranky and didn't try to hide this from the rest of us. </span>We went straight to the airport before heading into town to find a hotel, because Cierra and I were desperate to find her backpack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Something as simple as picking up a backpack took over an hour and went something like this:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We found a baggage department and waited in a line, only to be told to go to another office related to the airline holding the bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We waited there while a screaming African man took about 15 minutes of time, well, screaming, at the young woman sitting at the desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When it was our turn, we showed her the bag receipt and she looked confused, told us in Italian that the bag was not there but with the police?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or maybe she said security.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I asked where we should go and she went in the next office and talked with another woman, and then got a key out of a drawer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was really kind of holding my breath through all of this, hardly daring to believe that we would actually get the bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She then walked across the hallway to the security office, but she came right back without the backpack!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then she talked again with the other woman in the office next to hers, who told her to make a call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She made the call, and tried again to go across the hall to the security office, but no luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then she talked with the other woman again, and then told us to follow her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We followed her across the airport corridor toward departing flights and she told us to go through the security screening.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So we did, but of course they wouldn’t let us through because WE HAD NO BOARDING PASSES!!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She was gone by then, and we were stuck trying to explain to the Italian security guards that we had been following a woman to get our bag back, and he looked around and said “What woman?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally, realizing we could not follow her, our woman, (whom I was seeing as the incompetent woman by then), came back and rescued us, only to be told that we did not have to go through security, so we then followed her around security and went outside where the planes are, then back inside another door, over to a closet which she unlocked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I immediately spotted Cierra’s backpack there.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was one of maybe 4-5 bags there, and I tried to point it out to miss incompetent but she shooed me out of the closet in Italian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She finally looked at and matched the numbers on her paper with Cierra’s backpack, and gave it to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>PHEW!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We hugged and kissed the backpack and made our way back to the main part of the airport, found Scott and Laura, and left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So that was the saga of the lost luggage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>THE END.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We later found a pretty nice hotel in Alghero and spent the night there because all of us left early the next morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Scott and Laura were flying home from Rome, and Cierra and I were flying into Pisa where we would get a train to Cinque Terre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Laura was really helpful because she and Scott had already been traveling through Italy a while before the wedding and she had some very helpful information about the hotels for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One thing is that you have a card attached to the key ring, which has to be placed in a slot near the door for the electricity to work in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This way, when you leave, there is no way to waste electricity or air conditioning because you leave your room key at the front desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She gave us her Italian phrase book, which has been very useful at times, and she and Scott gave us some tips about finding places where they sell “Kababs”, a kind of wrap with meat and lettuce, kind of like gyros which are greek food. These kebab places are relatively inexpensive and "to go", so they can save money when one is hungry.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I must pause here to talk about the food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is not much in the way of vegetables to be had when you are on the go.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Of course, if you can cook, there are plenty of ways to eat veggies, make salads, etc..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But without a kitchen, it’s hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Combine this with trying not to eat gluten or dairy, and you are in trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Since leaving Sardinia, we have struggled with how to eat so we feel healthy, avoid foods that cause us to have bad reactions, and not spend a fortune at restaurants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m sorry to say, we are pretty much failing at all of the above.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One success was a “kebab” place across from a train station in Viareggio, where we stopped on the way to Venezia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was kind of like Indian food, and we had rice, chicken, and potatoes in a curry sauce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We have also been able to find some rice cakes which we can eat with Nutella for breakfast, or with meat and cheese, tomatoes and olives for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We usually have yogurt, fruit and coffee for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But dinner is not easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We have often been exhausted and starved by dinner, and that’s when all the places with foccacia or pizza start calling to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s also hard to find places to go to the bathroom, so often you have to pay for something to eat or drink if you want to pee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>EVERYTHING costs money here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Going to the bathroom in Venice cost us each 1.50 Euros each time, which is about the equivalent of $2.00, so aside from when we ate in restaurants and used the bathrooms there, I spent $8.00 for us to pee!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The other money issue I discovered is that since I bought all our train tickets in advance through RailEurope, I paid around $650.00 for both of us to ride trains for a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Now that we are here, and asking the price for train rides on the local trains, it appears I was charged almost three times what we should have paid for these train rides!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It makes me nauseous just thinking about the "helpful" woman who sold me these tickets.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I feel like someone should sue this company for what they are doing to innocent and ignorant tourists!!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But back to the food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s really good, and very fresh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is amazing fruit, cheese, fish, wine, yumm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But each time we eat out, because we try to avoid pasta, we spend about $50.00 to get some fish and maybe some potatoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A grilled fish, with nothing else, can easily cost 10 – 15 euros, and so we have to order French fries or salads so we don’t end up hungry.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The salads are usually just romaine lettuce, maybe tomatoes and carrots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They cost about 5 euros, or about $7.00.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So if I had no concerns about money, this might be a bit easier, but that is not the case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once we get to Paris we are staying with my brother so we can cook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But otherwise this is turning out to be another difficult part of this trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I should stop complaining though. I know it’s such an amazing reality that we are even here, and yet I have to write what my experiences are, or this blog will not happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I will move on from the food issue.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Okay, one more thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The Italians can be rather gruff at times.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not all, and when people are nice and helpful, it REALLY makes a difference, but there are some who just can be downright mean when you ask for help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think the traveling experience is helping me get a little thicker skinned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have to ask for assistance at each new place we go, often in a mixture of Italian, English, or French.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> It seems like the people who work in the informazzione booths at train stations or airports really DONT want to give you any information! </span>The post office experiences have been the best so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Actually kind of hilarious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> The people we have had helping us have actually been very nice, but </span>I don’t know if we will ever see the things again that we mailed home.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We really brought too much and have also bought some things so it became clear pretty quickly that we needed to send some things home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The funny part is that we get very different responses depending on the post office.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Today was crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We wanted to send home 3 books and a pair of sandals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They made me separate the shoes from the books for some reason, which one woman tried to explain to me in French.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It costs a small fortune to send anything, so it was probably not worth it, but after you spend 30 minutes trying to get a box and then trying to understand what they are saying, I have found I just want to be done with it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> I spent about 47 Euros which is about $60.00. OY! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>I had a funny experience the first post office we went to in La Spezia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I waited almost an hour in line, and then the man helped me put everything in a box and tape it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(By the way, he didn’t mind that there were shoes and books in the same box).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But after all this, it was 1:30 and they were closing for the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I had to leave with all my stuff in a large box because they wont postpone their lunch break for anything, and he said they would not reopen until the following morning at 8:00 a.m.! So we had to mail it from the next town on our journey. It's all rather exhausting, but definitely a learning experience!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I will have to explain about the bus and train strike that occurred on Friday, but it will have to wait for another time, 'cause again it is late and we need to sleep. Thank you for reading this. It helps me to have all these new experiences and then say to Cierra, "we have to blog about this!!"</p><p class="MsoNormal">Things I will blog about in the next several blogs:</p><p class="MsoNormal">Cinque Terre, the train/bus strike, a very bizarre bathroom experience at the train station in Viareggio, Venice and the incredible shabbat evening, and my thoughts about being a fearful person in the world, (me), Vs. a trusting person in the world, (Cierra). </p><p class="MsoNormal">Buonanotte! Ciao!</p><p class="MsoNormal">-Jessie</p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-58312097165518681562010-06-24T15:08:00.000-07:002010-06-24T15:30:38.934-07:00The WEDDING, and other stuff..<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWnQUbrrPomyCaRUUSawebygEYk9Aro6HRDFXZl8MknzDPksdA7RUegwBYuW4qravnD9EMLeTxnbl7zZz72K_MY23D8_KQdXxB_6YZuy-UBGKWYLCBPhkZqytyPehWaY-fN7yzTA3y7lZ/s1600/IMG_1011.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWnQUbrrPomyCaRUUSawebygEYk9Aro6HRDFXZl8MknzDPksdA7RUegwBYuW4qravnD9EMLeTxnbl7zZz72K_MY23D8_KQdXxB_6YZuy-UBGKWYLCBPhkZqytyPehWaY-fN7yzTA3y7lZ/s320/IMG_1011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486470240552311682" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Photo from 6/15 - Santa Theresa, Sardinia.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">6/20/10 - Mical And Claudia's wedding</p><p class="MsoNormal">WOW!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What a day!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">After a final effort to reach SOMEONE at an Italian airport, I finally found out that Cierra's pack is in Alghero, and that since we are driving there tomorrow, we can pick it up then. PHEW. What a relief. I think I will hug and kiss the backpack when I actually see it.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>We spent most of the day helping with decorations, name place settings, and trying to help make the whole event happen as best we could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I don’t think I’ve ever been so involved in a wedding that was not my own, and it felt really good to help and to be part of this new international family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I may not have mentioned before how much I value family, community, and feeling “part of” some kind of group effort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I really believe that this kind of involvement is what gives us meaning in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So for me, to come to such a far away place and being surrounded by people from all over the world, I felt included and was happy to help, despite the stress.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My brother, Mical, married Claudia Canu, who’s family is from Sardinia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mical is a pretty incredible guy, having been on his own since the age of sixteen when he decided to move out to CA from Maryland as an emancipated minor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He has lived in South Africa, Chile, France, and now he has just gotten a job in Sardinia, so he and Claudia will be moving to Cagliari, Sardinia in August.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Having had this connection and experiencing the culture here, I can honestly say I might even consider moving here someday if it works out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But who knows what the future brings?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There were friends and family at the wedding from Italy, USA, France, Norway, Germany, and England.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was able to fully enjoy myself , (finally), having had a phone call from an airport official in Alghero, Sardinia, letting me know that Cierra’s bag was there and thankfully, this is the airport we had to fly out of today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So knowing we would actually be able to get Cierra’s bag was a huge relief and I was able to be fully present for the festivities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The wedding was beautiful and translated back and forth between English and Italian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was beautiful!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cierra took some amazing pictures during the ceremony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I decided not to take pictures so I could just enjoy the moment of ritual focused on love and family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the ceremony we went to a restaurant and a few of us, Cierra, myself, Sheila and Katia, spent a very harried 30-40 minutes frantically placing name ‘cards”, which were actually leaves we had picked and written names on with a silver pen, and we finally got everyone placed while the wedding party drank wine and had their hors d’oeuvres outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was also the coldest and windiest day we had on Sardinia, so everyone was happy to finally come inside and sit at their tables.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cierra sat with a small table of three teens incliding her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One seventeen-year-old girl, Sylvia, who is a cousin of Claudia’s, was placed with Cierra on purpose because she really wants to visit the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They became friends over the course of the evening and we invited her to visit us in the future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think they are already Facebook friend<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Wingdings, serif;">s. I had a fun evening and loved watching my nephew tear up the dance floor. I had no idea he was such an awesome dancer. I'm sure my brother Lucas has it on video. He also has Cierra's song, which was amazing. She sang with one of Claudia's cousins, who played guitar. It was the perfect bringing together of both families. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Wingdings, serif;">There has been a lot going on since the wedding on Sunday. I did hug and kiss the backpack by the way. We were in Cinque Terre, which I have to say is probably the most shockingly beautiful places I think I have ever seen. We stayed in Manarola, and I will post pictures possibly tomorrow night. I have much more to say, but it's 12:20 at night and I'm sitting in a hotel lobby in Maestre, just outside of Venice. The mosquitos are eating me alive here, and Cierra is up in our room asleep. We had a long day of train and bus rides today, ending with a few hours in Venezia tonight. Seeing the Grand Canal, for the first time since I was eighteen, I couldn't believe I was really there and kept saying so to Cierra. I will have to pay more to use the internet tomorrow night, but had to get this posted tonight.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Wingdings, serif;">I'm feeling a little homesick. This is not an easy experience, but still one I will never forget. Cierra is a wonderful traveling companion. She continues to impress me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Wingdings, serif;">More tomorrow..</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Wingdings, serif;">Ciao!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Wingdings, serif;">-Jessie</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-60143027721857842012010-06-24T15:04:00.000-07:002010-06-26T13:54:14.820-07:00So Many Ideas, So Little Time<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">June 24, 2010</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On a train going to Venice<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">For those of you who don’t like reading, (you know who you are. You’re the ones who know us in some way or another, and therefore feel obligated to read this and are probably in denial because you are actually enjoying it) this is going to be another long post, so consider yourself forewarned! The reason for my EXTREMELY (yep that’s right!) long post is that so much has happened in the past few days, and I have LOADS to share about and plus, a few days gave my mind plenty of time to cook up some good ideas that could probably be spread out over at least three posts. So, here it goes.</p><p class="MsoNormal">First I would like to go back to a week ago to explain what happened to my lost bag.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">June 15, 2010: Still no bag<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">June 16, 2010: Still no bag<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">June 17, 2010: NO BAG<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">June 18, 2010: (you guessed it!) NO BAG!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">June 19, 2010: We find out that my bag has been sitting in Rome for 5 days<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:409.35pt"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">June 20, 2010: (The wedding) we find out that my bag is in Alghero (YAY!)<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">June 21, 2010: We FINALLY pick up my bag at the airport (with a bit of a hassle) <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, yes I am finally reunited with my bag! But still, WHAT A FREAKIN’ NIGHTMARE!!!!!</p><p class="MsoNormal">OK. On to my next subject. (You got through the first one, so you may as well keep going!)<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In honor of Father’s Day, (yes, I am well aware that it was several days ago but I’ve been a little busy) I wanted to write to my dad. (For all the rest of you reading, feel free to read this too. If I had wanted to write something for my dad’s eyes only, I would have sent him a letter!)</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear Daddy, (yes I still call him daddy, along with various other names. You got a problem with that?)</p><p class="MsoNormal">I miss you so much! Everywhere I go, I think, “Wow! My dad would love it here!” And you know what I decided? We are going to travel to some exotic place together (I’m not sure when but that’s ok…)<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just the two of us! Oh! And we still have to go on that air balloon ride. Don’t think I forgot about that!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">But anyway, I wouldn’t exactly say that we’ve had bad luck so far, (although from our previous posts, I guess it sort of seems that way) but we definitely haven’t had the best of luck either. The whole trip has been pretty full of ups and downs but I guess that’s what traveling to foreign countries brings. You know, like a packaged deal. Speaking of packages, when I finally did get my bag, I discovered pretty quickly that I had brought WAAAAAAYYYYY too much stuff! (Which everyone probably expected me to do!) So, my mom and I had to send some things home yesterday (which was also pretty difficult) and are thinking we might need to send even more things home tomorrow. Mom has been a giant stress case about pretty much everything and continues to be amazed at my positive energy. (But how could she not be) <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I also wanted to wish you a happy (late) Father’s Day and tell you that I love you. <span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;">J</span></span> I can’t wait to see you again and tell you about all my adventures in detail.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Xoxo<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">-Cierra </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">P.S. Keep reading Dad. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next section. (I guess that would make this section 3?)</p><p class="MsoNormal">Cinque Terre was GEORGEOUS!!!!!! We stayed at the very tipy top of Manorola (the second town) and explored Riomaggiore, Vernazza, our little town, and Monterosso. We got some fabulous pictures and though you might want to see them so here you go:</p><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwW_OPz7oaD3LJzjBkjg3i5sqgt05hSZoJkGJbCqiHC0pD35foT8c4U9mX9RzJxMevoUQ0W7ZAqk8Fe4BS6bNv7L8VhE1HrmPyvUiyWBy-VZhXcObfZWVTUbRqH5TvKSk5lLw2xwzA2DNh/s200/IMG_1190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487187891678444626" /><p class="MsoNormal">Ok, so, yesterday, we had dinner in Vernazza and then had some gelato and when we got back to the train station it was like 9:00 P.M. Now, first let me tell you that we had heard a little earlier that there was going to be a train strike here in Italy and we were (of course) worrying about it. So, as we’re worrying, along comes this gaggle of guys (21 and up I think) who walked right up to where we were sitting to look at the train schedule and they overheard us worrying about what the hell we were going to do if the trains went on strike! So, that sparked up this whole conversation because we were all there waiting for our trains (which we ended up having to do for like an hour!) and eventually, one asked (just like they always do) how old I was. Well actually he asked if I was in collage or high school and I said, “I’m actually just going into high school this year.” And then he said, “No!?” and then I was like, ”Yep!” And he was like, ”Wow!” and then I said, “ Ya, I get that a lot.” And the whole thing was just hilarious! Oh and It turns out that the strike probably won’t effect us at all.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On to section 4!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m pretty sure most of you know this, but I LOVE to read. And I’m not taking about the reading that you do for school, because I HATE that. It’s a total waste of time and paper and the books usually suck. But anyway, as my mom mentioned a while back, we have this favorite author. And I, just today, finished another of her books called <i>Runaway.</i><span style="font-style:normal"> Now the coolest part about this book was that it was about a girl, Holly, from another one of her books in the </span><i>Sammy Keys</i><span style="font-style:normal"> series. So, </span><i>Runaway</i><span style="font-style:normal"> is Holly’s story about losing her mother, going into foster care, running away, and being a homeless twelve-year-old, up until the point in her story where Sammy finds her and helps her out. And I LOVED it! After I finished it I started thinking about why I love these books so much and this is what I came up with:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh, but first I just wanted to say that if you ever read this Ms. Wendelin Van Draanen, this part is for you. I really wanted to thank you for writing and inspiring the way <i>I </i><span style="font-style:normal">write.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="1" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">I like the style in which the books are written. First person narrative. My favorite! And the way she writes, totally inspired my style of writing.<o:p></o:p></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">The books make me believe in finding my own mysteries, giving people a second chance, fighting for what I believe in, and making the most of the life that I have.<o:p></o:p></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">They are SO fun to read! And I can’t put them down once I’ve started them.<o:p></o:p></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">And they are definitely one of the reasons that I love to read.</li></ol> <p class="MsoNormal">Last section:<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Despite all the ups and downs, I really am enjoying myself. I STILL can’t believe that I’m here and I am so grateful! And I know that some things will continue to be difficult, but I feel like this is all worth it. I am on the trip of a lifetime! And the best part? This is only just the beginning.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Xoxo</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">-Cierra <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-46027363618732229442010-06-21T14:17:00.000-07:002010-06-21T14:33:58.029-07:00Um, is this a vacation?Sorry to have been so long in posting. The past week was difficult in so many ways. <div><br /></div><div>Monday night, June 14<sup>th</sup>, midnight, Italy time, Sardinia.</div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"> Now my turn…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Second night in Sardinia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was HELL getting here, but Cierra has summarized the hell fairly well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The only thing I would add is that I had hardly slept the entire week before leaving for this trip, so you can imagine the end-of-rope-ness by the time we had the security issues trying to get to Sardinia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I only shed a few tears of exhaustion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But things got much better as soon as we cleared immigration in Alghero.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everyone was there to meet us, and we all got into cars to head to a little town on the ocean for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were probably twelve of us, and we all had a fabulous meal and tried our best to speak Italian to the waitresses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My niece, Magnolia, is really painfully cute, and was so happy to see Cierra that she made all the badness go away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of course, there is the family stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is, after all, a wedding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m sorry to say that there has been some drama, some awkwardness, and some issues with who is staying in which apartment with whom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I love my brother’s fiancé, Claudia, and her family.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Her mom, Juliana, is a very warm and strong woman from Sardinia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her stepfather, Jacquie, is French, always smiling, friendly and warm.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And although he seems to understand English, he speaks mostly French and Italian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So at 1:30 a.m. when I was trying to explain the problem that we had seven people and six beds, he didn’t seem able to communicate with even when I explained it in French.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Somehow we got through the night and into beds. Today, I actually had moments of feeling like I have truly arrived on a vacation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Especially lying on the beach listening to all the languages being spoken around me. Italian, French, English, and something I couldn’t quite determine..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had a nap in the afternoon, and was woken at about 6:00 pm to the sound and drama of a thunderstorm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We all had dinner together at one of the apartments tonight, and I had fun talking and getting to know everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tuesday, 6/15.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m still jet lagged. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s hard to hit the wall and feel like I still need to be functioning and pleasant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mostly I’m tired, woke up at 6:00 a.m. again today and feeling the effects of lack of sleep and still not having Cierra’s bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are staying in the far northern part of Sardinia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You can see Corsica from the beach here.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s beautiful, although, just like it has been in northern CA, they are having strange weather and more cold and rain than usual for this time of year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We went with several others into town today, and went to a regular Italian lunch at a restaurant on the ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We went with Benjamin, “Beni”, who is German, Katia who is Italian from Northern Italy, and Dave who is from Northern CA and met my brother Mical when he was seventeen in Northern CA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I took pictures of two of the dishes we got at the restaurant, because of the presentation of them, one grilled vegetables, the other of a fish dish.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Everything we have eaten here has been delicious, but I can’t actually do the “EAT” part of <u>Eat Pray, Love</u>, because I am highly allergic to gluten and get hives if I eat it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I also wont fit into the dress I got for the wedding if I eat too much this week!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Since the bread, pasta, pizza, and pastries here are such an important part of Italian cuisine, I can’t talk a lot about the food, but today I ate pickled thistles for the first time and liked them a lot<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Wingdings, serif;">.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After lunch we hiked along the coast a bit, even though it was raining off and on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And then later in the evening all 25 people in our group went to have dinner at a family like restaurant near here where you had a choice for your multi-course meal of “Mare”, or “Terre”, Sea or Land – meaning meat or seafood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Again, delicious food, but much bread and pasta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had a slight melt-down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Couldn’t keep the tears from coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mostly because we still can’t locate Cierra’s luggage and everything is so difficult here – difficult to find phone numbers or Internet access.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We found one Internet café in a town about 30 minutes away, so it has been hard to get there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are a large group of about 25 – 30 people and we are sharing about 5-6 rented cars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am not one of the drivers, so I have to depend on others to get anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I feel so out of control, mostly about Cierra’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>lost luggage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Also, the money situation is stressful because for each text I send or call I make, I have to pay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I realize how easy we have it at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not just with having phone and Internet access,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>but really with every kind of business or establishment.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Here you are lucky to get anyone on the phone, anyone who is willing to go out of their way to help look for things, I went online to search for Cierra’s bag and all I found was that they say it was delivered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We have given an address of a hotel near here for them to deliver it to, but it’s still not there, and I’m afraid we are in too much of a remote place for them to find us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u>Wednesday</u> – still no backpack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We went to the hotel twice today to check, as well as my calling Dublin Airport twice to speak to the lost baggage department.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They told me it was sent via Air France through Rome, and then to Cagliari, the farthest airport from where we are in Sardinia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Supposedly it arrived in Cagliary yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Cierra seems much less upset about this than I am, which surprises me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She seems to be able to let go and stop worrying about it, whereas I can’t let go and trust we will get it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m also perturbed about other little things – how we will afford to get through the rest of the trip, how to manage in each of the places we plan to visit since I forgot our book on Italy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can’t believe I left it at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And managing in situations where I feel so helpless and not in control is not easy for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We went to a gorgeous beach today, and I finally got some sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then we came home and cooked a good dinner for those of us who are here. I love spending so much time here with Lucas Sheila, Magnolia, my niece and Josiah my nephew. At home we don't get to spend a lot of time together even though they just live in Berkeley. But to spend the week with them in the apartment has been great. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Wednesday night – Thunder just hit while I am waiting up for Cierra.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Several people from the wedding party went to the other house where many of the group are staying about 25 minutes away from here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s midnight and they are not back yet so I’m waiting up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It sounds like we will get another storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I must get to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hopefully the luggage will arrive safe and sound tomorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m still worried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How will we get through the trip if she has no clothes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How can I relax and enjoy myself when I am still worried?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cierra is able to forget the fears knowing I will take care of everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She’s happy and connected, safe in the knowledge that all will be handled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I feel the weight of the problem – no place to stay our last night here, not quite enough money for the trip, no car to get to the airport on the last day, and trying to handle it all without help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think sometimes foreign travel magnifies what does not work for us in our lives at home – in my case, being on my own for everything on a daily basis, and here, I have to take care of things that I am completely powerless over, and also to depend on people I don’t know.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Saturday, June 19, 2010</p> <p class="MsoNormal">You wont believe this, but there is still no backpack for Cierra. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have been pretty upset, and still trying to enjoy my days while feeling frustrated and fearful that we may have lost her backpack full of all her summer things for good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Aer Lingus has told me we can spend up to 180 Euros to get Cierra some essentials.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The problem is that if the bag is delivered to the hotel in Sardinia after we leave, then we may never get it back!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I don’t cope well with situations like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m actually feeling depressed, and then aghast that I could be depressed while on the vacation of a lifetime!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I’m stuck – calling Aer Lingus and getting different stories every day – today they said that the backpack was in Rome all week and was supposed to be sent to Sardinia today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But it’s Saturday so unless it got here this morning and couriered to the northern tip of the island, then we definitely wont get it tomorrow because it’s Sunday and NOTHING happens here on Sundays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So if Monday it’s still not here I may have to drive all around the island going to all three airports because we leave here Tuesday morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The drive alone will be about ten hours, and that’s if I don’t get lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But what else can I do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can’t seem to let go of the backpack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s more than just the clothes and makeup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s deeper for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m feeling like it’s such a huge loss, and I keep going over and over in my head what was in the backpack to determine the exact loss/contents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> I have to learn to let go!! I'm s impressed with Cierra's ability to let go and still trust that everything will work out. She is so mature about all of this. She even said, when we first discovered that it was missing, that it was a good thing it was her luggage that went missing instead of mine. She's right too, which doesn't make me feel very proud of myself... </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Monday night, June 21st, Alghero, Sardinia</p><p class="MsoNormal">We are in a hotel tonight and paid for internet access which is how we are finally able to upload all of this. Tomorrow we fly to the mainland so it will be easier to blog daily. I'll also be uploading pictures from the past week. Must give my impressions of the wedding, the family, etc.. But since we have to leave for the airport at 5:30 am tomorrow, now it is time to sleep.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Arrivederci,</p><p class="MsoNormal">-Jessie </p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-15547819718689111302010-06-21T13:47:00.000-07:002010-06-21T14:16:38.051-07:00Freaking Out<div style="text-align: left;">Saturday, June 12, 2010</div> <p class="MsoNormal">Ok so we are, as of right now, on our way to The Logan International Airport, Boston in the U.S of A. Yep that’s right. I, Cierra Potter, am blogging to you from United Airlines and am on my way to ITALY!!!!!!!!! And all I can say is that I am FREAKING OUT!!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I haven’t been this excited since……… last night. Which, as it just so happens, was the night of my eighth grade dance.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Now first, you have to know that I enjoy school dances. I love hanging out and dancing with my friends, listening to good music and waiting for the perfect song to come on so I can bust a move. But what I never really understood was why in the world, people (not just teens, but people in general) feel the need to “Freak”. I mean come on! Are guys really such bad dancers that they need to resort to that?! And girls, come on, really? Are you really willing to do something THAT degrading, just to dance with a guy?! But that’s just my opinion. Anyway, back to last night.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, I spent like three (maybe more) months trying to find the perfect dress, and boy, was that a nightmare! And then I made these super elaborate plans with my friend Victoria so that she could do my hair (which ended up looking gorgeous! You can see pics on my facebook page) AND, I spent $30 on a mani pedi just to go to a stupid dance that SUCKED! (Well I had a pretty good time), But the music was horrible, it didn’t get dark until like 8:45, (the dance ended at 10:00) and there was SO MUCH STUPID, MIDDLE SCHOOL DRAMA!!!!!!!!!</p><p class="MsoNormal">So, I’m sure you can imagine my disappointment. But I got over that at about 8:30 this morning when our plane took off. And as of now, I’m still excited but I am so ready to be off this flight! Ugggggg. It’s going to be a long day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Monday, June</p><p class="MsoNormal"> 14, 2010</p> <p class="MsoNormal">You know how when something goes wrong in the morning, the rest of your day seems to unfold in exactly the same manner? Well, that was pretty much exactly what happed yesterday. We arrived in Dublin, Ireland at 5:00 A.M. (their time) only to find that my luggage had been left in Boston. Yep. That’s right. All I have is my shampoo, conditioner, and my toothbrush. (I brought that in my carry-on) But the day just kept getting better, and better. My mom and I took a bus into the city, at like 7:30 in the morning and we wanted to go look around, but of course, nothing was open at 8:00 on a Sunday morning! So, we basically walked around in the freezing cold for an hour!!!! But I did get some pretty cool pictures!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYME2BjkdvbjF-YzbUXZ9MP4Ghd3fR_GTqyQworBZBg6j_KuJsOklFtCCrwFCoVyvNzldA6b9fp62QdScXmYPIiUvSVprnAJof5X3oeJeczxSVXXnK2dAv4tQ3kBoRZHeqOxHNSVB5A_93/s1600/IMG_0042.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYME2BjkdvbjF-YzbUXZ9MP4Ghd3fR_GTqyQworBZBg6j_KuJsOklFtCCrwFCoVyvNzldA6b9fp62QdScXmYPIiUvSVprnAJof5X3oeJeczxSVXXnK2dAv4tQ3kBoRZHeqOxHNSVB5A_93/s200/IMG_0042.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485336215058620034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">So anyway, after walking around for a while, we decided to go and wait for a bus to take us back to the airport. So we walked to the bus stop and we waited… and waited… and waited… and waited… until we had been waiting for an hour and a half, and then, FINALLY our bus came. So we got back to the airport with about 4 hours to spare and therefore, had to do MORE waiting. So, on this particular flight, we were supposed to check three bags, but because I didn’t exactly have mine, we only checked two; our dress bag and my mom’s luggage. (Oh and I forgot to mention that we had paid $50 to check the third bag.) So we checked our bags and went to go through security, but apparently, any liquid carry-ons have to be labeled 3 oz. or less ON THE BOTTLE. So, we had to go back to check in a third bag with all of our “non-labeled” shampoo and such. Then we go to our gate (gate 109) and did some more waiting, and right as we were getting up to start boarding, they changed our gate from 109 to 103! So once at gate 103, we had to wait like 45 minutes more, and then it started pouring down rain. And I’m not talking like a California rain. I’m talking about a full on, pools of water on the ground, Ireland rain. And you might think, just as we did, that by then, the bad luck was over, but no. No, we had obviously done <i>SOMETHING</i><span style="font-style:normal"> wrong to piss off the gods because they sure were not happy with us! But back to my story. When we finally got on the plane, we were so tired that we could hardly function and I could barely keep my eyes open and we were planning on getting some sleep, but every time the flight attendants walked by, they would say,” EXCUSE ME! Arm rests down!” or “Window open please!” And it got REALLY annoying! (To put it bluntly, the flight attendants were all bitches!)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style:normal">When we got here, our family was waiting for us and we all said our hellos and gave our hugs and we all went out to dinner (which was INCREDABLE!) And afterward, we got gelato, (Also INCREDABLE!) after which we started the long, and I mean LOOOOOOONNNNNGGGGG, drive to where we would be staying. When we <i>did</i><span style="font-style:normal"> get to our houses, it was about 1:30 A.M. (Sardinia time) and I had wanted to get straight i<span style="font-style:normal">nto bed, which didn’t really happen, and when I </span><i>did</i><span style="font-style:normal"> get in bed, I read a whole bunch of my book. So, I didn’t actually get to sleep until around 2:30 A.M.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, as you can see, my first experiences out of the country were not the best, but today was better. We went to the beach, and just a little while ago, </p><p class="MsoNormal">I got to watch an amazing lightning storm, and I’m still marveling at the fact that I’m in Italy with my friends and family.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWf6pqwGM38A3xU416c-sz7WEgKcROCxyqYaXJpUGrcnNyiqNuwIFdfiERc4ap-X45wfHPF_onoqarGYta1HJW30JEp60QwbDe40yurnsCA1v0Yxo2GE8o99Ady5n5LYL2MYbdvsGo8NKI/s200/IMG_1027.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485334336950208978" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I do have absolute faith that things are going to continue to improve despite my day yesterday. I mean how could they not? In an attempt to stay positive, I have made a list of the highlights of my time in Sardinia.</p> <ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">Having an AMAZING dinner and gelato last night<o:p></o:p></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">Seeing my uncle and aunt-to-be<o:p></o:p></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">Going to the beach<o:p></o:p></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">The storm<o:p></o:p></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">(And my personal favorite) seeing at least 35 hot Italian guys so far! ;)<o:p></o:p></li> </ul><div>Anyway, I have to go now but I’ll keep you all posted!</div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ciao!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Xoxo</p><p class="MsoNormal">-Cierra</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-13075534711667134422010-06-03T18:52:00.001-07:002010-06-03T19:50:58.963-07:00Waiting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypMoO89Yr7GSysOPDgL4x3g9wT4R5jvAzLY2USvGpraexs9mWHbxvz4J53hWk65ArkAtlYuOqLW3zwlJCJ4SXQdU8rYx4yE6G9vdGMe4A_NtKJbC-octjUATdGBVGwZGut9ZfivnGtf09/s1600/DSCF1531.JPG"><br /></a>Well, yes, waiting for June 12th arrive, obviously, the day we fly outta here. But also waiting for Cierra to write her next blog. She started it, but she is really incredibly busy, and has had no time. I actually am quite pissed off, as is she, at her English teacher!<br /><br />I have nothing against English teachers, mind you, (although recently an English teacher at the high school where I work stormed into my office and yelled at me, but that's another story...), so Cierra's English teacher is a recent sub placed in her school about a month ago when her regular English teacher had to leave for health reasons. This new lady, if you can call her a "lady", seems to think it is her responsibility to cram as much reading and homework into the last month of school as she possibly can, and has no sense of how her class is <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> the only class the kids do homework for. Cierra has had an average of 1 hour of homework a night this year. This is so much better than it used to be, when she started middle school and was doing at least 3 hours a night! So I've been relieved that this year she has had a lighter load. But suddenly she is back to 3-4 hours of homework a night! And to add that to her very busy life has not been easy. This teacher needs to get a clue. I'd make a big stink and complain about it, but really there is only one more week, and then it's all over, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Arrivederci!!</span><br /><br />Cierra may not have mentioned to you that she does A LOT of extra-curricular activities. (By the way, why is it that kids are supposed to make school their priority and have everything else be "extra"?? I certainly don't like making work my main focus in life, so why should we expect kids to do that about school?). I don't ever force Cierra to add activities into her life, and have often had to remind her that she needs time to rest and do nothing, but she is so in love with everything she does, that she can't seem to let anything go. The following are her "extra" activities, which are really her passions:<br /><br />Irish dance, tap and jazz, voice lessons, choir, singing with our band (The Sugar Shakers), musical theater productions, indoor soccer, writing songs, writing her blog :-D, being with her MANY friends, shopping, fashion, make-up, and babysitting. PHEW!! And guess who drives her everywhere? Here is Cierra in a rare moment of rest:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8surPw7sIkhRoGnLucW3wOACq1wihEVdiOqUWY6hvASXkvhQp10HPm6dVIwBnq9r4hPqz9Zv3o31yH-XqrrNgRVKDtECLMKmFB29Imi0ZMe8s4vmwrBCOKaO-h-tHGWS-3oh0Hnxh2AGy/s1600/DSCF1524.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8surPw7sIkhRoGnLucW3wOACq1wihEVdiOqUWY6hvASXkvhQp10HPm6dVIwBnq9r4hPqz9Zv3o31yH-XqrrNgRVKDtECLMKmFB29Imi0ZMe8s4vmwrBCOKaO-h-tHGWS-3oh0Hnxh2AGy/s320/DSCF1524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478743802734613234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Cierra mentioned that she has diagnosed herself as having OCD. Being a therapist, I can't actually say she has all the necessary characteristics of someone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but she definitely has some "features". For example, she mentioned that when she was two-years-old she organized all our shoes in the closet. This is not an exaggeration. I was in the kitchen and went looking for her one afternoon only to find her sitting in the closet having matched up every pair of her dad's and my shoes, VERY neatly and in perfectly straight lines. When we would go to the vet when she was a baby, she could barely walk but would re-organize bottles and boxes on the bottom shelves in the exam room. She used to do this with her crayons and markers too, organizing them by color and ranges from red through indigo, and then into the blacks, grays, and browns. Even when drawing she would make sure to place them back in the exact order in the box, and would get very upset if I didn't put them back exactly as she had organized them. With her clothes and shoes, she has also been pretty orderly, wanting things in the drawer in just the right places, and folding her underwear. (I'm pretty much the opposite. I'm lucky if I get to folding my clothes at all!).<br /><br />Another thing about Cierra is that she never loses things. You know all those mom's who are constantly having to buy new jackets for their kids because they never remember to bring them home? Cierra has lost a total of ONE article of clothing in her entire fourteen years of life, ONE! This is even with having to go back and forth from her dad's house to my house since the age of four. I have many more examples, but I think you get the idea.<br /><br />The one area where she has lightened up is her room, which is now pretty much always messy. But I really can't complain. I actually think it's GOOD for her to let her room be messy! (Sorry Cierra, but here it is):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypMoO89Yr7GSysOPDgL4x3g9wT4R5jvAzLY2USvGpraexs9mWHbxvz4J53hWk65ArkAtlYuOqLW3zwlJCJ4SXQdU8rYx4yE6G9vdGMe4A_NtKJbC-octjUATdGBVGwZGut9ZfivnGtf09/s1600/DSCF1531.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 284px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypMoO89Yr7GSysOPDgL4x3g9wT4R5jvAzLY2USvGpraexs9mWHbxvz4J53hWk65ArkAtlYuOqLW3zwlJCJ4SXQdU8rYx4yE6G9vdGMe4A_NtKJbC-octjUATdGBVGwZGut9ZfivnGtf09/s320/DSCF1531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478744654343397810" border="0" /></a><br />So when Cierra gets homework assigned, you can imagine what happens right? She has to do it all, and she has to do it perfectly, and she would rather go to the dentist than turn in an assignment late. Needless to say, this is all an explanation for why she has not had time to blog, and told me today that she plans to do lot's of writing on the plane, if not before :-)<br /><br />So be patient, as I am trying to be. June 12th is coming up fast! OMG!!! You should see my to-do list!!<br /><br />Ciao for now,<br />-JessieJessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-15020896780138319722010-05-22T12:45:00.000-07:002010-05-22T23:24:52.126-07:00MiraclesHello again. In case anyone reads this who doesn't actually know us personally, my name is Jessie and my daughter, the "fourteen-year-old", is Cierra. As you may have noticed from her writing, she is not shy, and has a solid sense of self. In fact, my family has often joked that she suffers from too much self-esteem. And although I sometimes feel I need to instill some sense of modesty into her incredibly exuberant personality, I also know that she is full of love and integrity, and cares deeply for her friends and family. Actually, it's very refreshing to see a teenager who loves herself and knows who she is because I work in a high school and help teenagers with their emotional problems, so I see a lot of kids who really hate themselves. And from the two previous posts, you may also have noticed that my daughter definitely has better self-esteem than I do, despite her age. She is, in fact, very inspiring, and often times shows me that my thinking is backwards, and it gets me stuck in a negative downward spiral. It is difficult to be depressed in the presence of Cierra!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCRc7H_Vc-wRIWnu8OnGqt77pYyaHXO48GAY2FF-4iivY2h-aJDYWFLvRriKeiy9oU6OuRWhjgM7dmEQsQ3VVHOkQ1ahrbOjWYrMMZyR7V1ioYGZWtFZON3r6yC6B1Q3aofNvYg4zEfIT/s1600/DSCF1276.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCRc7H_Vc-wRIWnu8OnGqt77pYyaHXO48GAY2FF-4iivY2h-aJDYWFLvRriKeiy9oU6OuRWhjgM7dmEQsQ3VVHOkQ1ahrbOjWYrMMZyR7V1ioYGZWtFZON3r6yC6B1Q3aofNvYg4zEfIT/s320/DSCF1276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474347219577902338" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm often on the lookout for miracles. So I have to point them out when I see them. It's usually easy for me to believe that other people can have miracles happen in their lives, but not so easy for me to believe in them happening to me. The idea for this blog came about through several small miracles. The first being that my daughter Cierra and I are very close and have not, (yet), gone through the usual "mother daughter hate each-other" phase. I don't know if we ever will. In fact, we usually appreciate each-other greatly, and say this to one another quite often. I marvel at the fact that she tells me I'm a fabulous mom. But also I appreciate her and respect her on so many levels, and most of the time I don't question our solid relationship. instead I remind myself to be grateful. So whether it's through luck, my own work on myself helping me be a good parent, something about our temperaments being in alignment, or all of the above, we really like spending time together.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4IFZhFW-wQv6jJ3AdYcGdqOQB2XUXc14Bpyt75qOOIgKBkwBrQvn3-yJ0X1jFp0hcQXokaVIJklkooxDpIELnn0-i5kKfcl3oCAIDLjX_2mdUUoPUm83m5xdsEoDs5iNi9nfFESIJGPNZ/s1600/IMG00363-20100508-2018.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4IFZhFW-wQv6jJ3AdYcGdqOQB2XUXc14Bpyt75qOOIgKBkwBrQvn3-yJ0X1jFp0hcQXokaVIJklkooxDpIELnn0-i5kKfcl3oCAIDLjX_2mdUUoPUm83m5xdsEoDs5iNi9nfFESIJGPNZ/s320/IMG00363-20100508-2018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474266501819849666" border="0" /></a><br />But back to the miracles. I still read to Cierra sometimes at night. More recently she also reads to me if I'm cooking and we are in the middle of a really good book. We have a favorite author who has inspired the idea for this blog. Her name is Wendelin Van Draanen, and we have been reading her books together for about four years. <a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/kids/vandraanen">www.randomhouse.com/kids/vandraanen</a><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span>The inspiration of writing about our trip to Italy from both our perspectives came from the book we just read together, called <span style="font-style: italic;">Flipped</span>, which is a story about two people who live across the street from each-other and each chapter is from their different perspectives.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Cierra and I have thought of writing together for years, but somehow it never seems to happen, until Thursday when the idea came to me that we should write about our trip to Italy in the same way that <span style="font-style: italic;">Flipped</span> was written. As soon as I had the idea, I texted Cierra and she said, "Oooooo! Ya, I like that a lot!!!!". So I said, "Me too, like in Flipped how each chapter is back and forth perspectives". And she said, "YES! OMG, this is BRILLIANT!" And so, here we are. But the next part really solidified the fact that this was, indeed, a miracle. I went to lunch with some friends, several of whom are writers, business owners, travelers, and very successful people. I mentioned my idea of writing about my trip with my daughter, and my friend Leslie, who teaches writing classes and is a published author herself, suggested that we blog the trip while we are there. I realized this would be perfect, except that we don't have a laptop, and I said as much to the group at lunch. Then another friend at the table, who just got back from traveling herself, offered to lend us her MacBook Air for our trip!! At that moment, I knew we HAD to do this. It felt like a sign from the Universe that something special was going to happen.<br /><br />The next thing is that Cierra is so inspired and JAZZED to be doing this writing and sharing it with friends and family, and we are having a lot of fun so far. I actually probably would not have had the guts to do this without Cierra's enthusiasm, because of the above mentioned lack of confidence I have in myself. A perfect example of the differences in our self-esteems in the way we both are feeling about the blog publishing of what we have written. When I wrote my first blog, I thought, "should I really let people see this?, Is it good enough?, maybe it needs editing". Whereas Cierra said, as she was writing, "THIS IS SO GOOD!" Then she immediately told her friends to read it.<br /><br />Now, with all the small miracles seeming to line themselves up, and the BIG miracle that we are actually really going to Italy and France together, I am going to promise myself that I will believe that miracles can happen to us, and are happening all the time when we open our eyes and accept them into being real. Maybe just by my writing these words, I am creating the next perfect moment to come into being, allowing my dreams to come true...<br /></div></div>Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-11507697828762426942010-05-21T20:21:00.000-07:002010-07-10T20:59:43.068-07:00! FLIPPED !<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ok, so just in case you were confused, I'm Cierra, the "14 year-old".<br />I put this in quotations because:<br />1. everyone who knows me has decided that I am about the most mature fourteen year-old they've ever met, and<br />2. seeing as I just turned 14 a couple weeks ago, both my parents have taken to calling me "their 14 year-old<br /> daughter" (as you have just witnessed in my mother's previous post)<br /><br /> Now if you don't already have somewhat of an idea of what I'm like from all of thee above, I, being as kind and thoughtful as I am, will help you out a bit. I turned the ever so fabulous 1 4 on May 8th (Yep I'm a Taurus!) and I'm just finishing the eighth grade. (thank GOD!) I am extremely outgoing which you have probably figured out by now, and I intend to be the next Lea Michele. (aka Rachael Barry on the Fox hit TV series Glee) I'm driven, usually know what I want, and when I was two, I organized all the shoes in our front closet. Yes. That's right my friends. I took them all out and replaced them in a neat, straight, line, and on several occasions, I attempted to do this at the super market as well. Now you're probably thinking, "Wow! This girl has serious OCD and should probably get some help!" and maybe I should, but I just consider myself ridiculously organized. Except when it comes to my room... but that's a WHOLE other story! So, I'm going to stop boring you now and get to why I'm actually writing.<br /><br />As you all know, my mother and I are planning to take an exciting and exotic trip to Italy this summer, and when she told me..... I FLIPPED! I mean who wouldn't be excited right? A three-week trip to Italy and Paris?! I didn't know how to react! But it just kept getting better. My mother told me that we would be spending a week in Sardinia (an island next to Italy. See Below)<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIX3hvoxhM1mK6wcISQ1vNqZy8wGYE9Z8KsRWzY-YvoNyWUOQOfCyrvuCqdh4tVDcJE-3X_7oxmCiILtEuVnMsgfezSxn5mVoPI1k2ofJ2FGdI8_V1nQ_X4a5haICktmE7zmHCD_Kro-B8/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 161px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIX3hvoxhM1mK6wcISQ1vNqZy8wGYE9Z8KsRWzY-YvoNyWUOQOfCyrvuCqdh4tVDcJE-3X_7oxmCiILtEuVnMsgfezSxn5mVoPI1k2ofJ2FGdI8_V1nQ_X4a5haICktmE7zmHCD_Kro-B8/s200/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473945993432136098" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />to attend my Uncle Mike's wedding. Ok, so here's another thing you should all know about me: I LOVE myself a wedding! I'm a HUGE sucker for them and a bit of a hopeless romantic.....but anyway, a couple weeks later, I got an e-mail from my uncle and his fiance asking if I would want to sing in their wedding. And I thought,"Are they kidding?!" OF COURSE I WANTED TO SING AT THEIR WEDDING!!!!! So, I've been preparing the classic, "At Last" by Etta James with my voice teacher for almost three months! But back to our schedule. After our glorious week in Sardinia, we would travel up through Italy for 9 days, take a stunning train ride through the Alps, and end our adventures with a week in Paris! Oh, and did I mention that our plane there and back will be stationed in Dublin, Ireland?!<br /><br />I know. BEST TRIP EVER! Especially since this will be my first time out of the country!!!! I'm finally getting to go out and see the world! And believe me, the month of May couldn't possibly feel any longer!<br />Alright until next time then?<br />Ciao Bella!<br />xoxo<br />-Cierra<br /><br /><br /></span></span>Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1417160039980609012.post-40893102786939683342010-05-20T22:12:00.000-07:002010-05-20T23:52:33.464-07:00Taking My Daughter To Italy!?It doesn't seem real. Nothing like this ever seemed possible. I'm actually taking my fourteen-year-old daughter to Italy for my little brother's wedding. How can this be me? I'm so used to hearing about the rich folks traveling, and being the one who can't afford it. But somehow I've made this possible, and we leave June 12th. Of course, part of me is still in doubt - the volcano ash, the trains will strike, the flights wont take off, the Gods will decide they made a mistake in letting us go, and somehow stop us. But then I also think, why not me? Why shouldn't I take my beautiful daughter to travel in Europe? Is there some law that says I am only here on this planet to work and struggle? Maybe this trip will be the change I need to open me up to possibilities and abundance.. Maybe we will experience joy and light and miracles. And maybe we'll have ourselves one hella good time!<br /><br />Of course, like most parents, I am trying to fix my own childhood by doing things differently for my daughter. I'm wanting this trip to be a corrective experience to make right what was wrong in my youth. I went to Europe the first time with my Dad and older brother when I was ten-years-old. But my dad being, well, let's just say that self-centered would be putting it mildly, it was not the best trip for a ten-year old. My fondest memories of the month we were there was eating Swiss chocolate and riding trains. But I also overheard my dad one night when he thought I was asleep telling his friends he liked my brother better than he liked me. It was something I knew already on some level, but hearing him actually say it solidified the feeling that I was not acceptable or lovable. The next time I went to Europe I was seventeen and went alone. It was for five months, and I was not really prepared for what it would be like to travel alone in a foreign country. I definitely learned a lot, and had to get stronger because I was alone, but I was too self-hating and depressed to really love my experience. <br /><br />But now? Finally at the age of 44 I am actually learning how to relax and enjoy my life. I imagine my daughter and I sitting on a balcony in Cinque Terre looking out over the Mediterranean Sea and sipping cold drinks talking and laughing, marveling at the fact that we are there, and savoring every minute. So in exactly 23 days we will be on our way. Pretty cool right?Jessie and Cierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01488412132936779365noreply@blogger.com3