kristen vs. earth

onward and upward

2011-05-20T20:37:00.000-07:00

www.sixpennyglobe.tumblr.com

calling all 1000 dollar bills

2010-11-15T20:38:00.000-08:00

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/sixpennyglobe/sixpenny-globe-a-travel-documentary-series

Sex Drugs and Rock & Roll

2010-06-27T17:02:00.000-07:00

Before we begin, let me clarify the title of this post. I’m currently taking the last class of my college career via summer school; it’s Health. At this stage of education, that no longer means that I’m learning the scientific name for peeing. We recently finished the drugs unit (MDMA has nothing to do with basketball? Oh.) and now we’re on the sex unit. I haven’t had to leave the room this many times since my nano pet died during STAR testing in 5^th grade. Anyway, that takes care of 1 and 2… and the ‘rock & roll’ refers to a little fact I like to call “I just learned to play Coldplay’s Clocks on the piano.” A beautiful reckless summer it’s been so far.

Whenever I put off blogging for this long, it becomes such an enormous task to cover everything that has happened that I usually end up blacking out. When I come to, I find a little post all nicely typed up about finger puppets or princesses and I usually just shrug, quickly stop my iTunes from blasting Mariah Carey’s Christmas album because blacked out me always thinks that’s inspirational, and click POST. That might be happening now, I suspect, since more and more lines of letters keep appearing and as far as I can tell, I’m not doing anything.

Anyway, here’s the breaking news:

- We just bought an inflatable pool so we can boil water on the stove and make a Living Room Jacuzzi.

- In August I’m going on tour with Voxhaul Broadcast and Robbers on High Street for a month and a half. We’re going all over America, so watch for me at a merch table near you. And if you see a creepy baby blue van on fire on the side of any road, please tell my parents I love them and fling my journals into the ocean.

- Two days ago I had cookies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Right now I’m licking Diet Cool Whip off a spoon.

The fast lane is calling, later people.

^Vagrant Records backdoor

^my room

^This is our roommate Dave telling us about a dream he had where he was a pancake and couldn’t fit through any doors, among other problems.

summer just slapped me in the face

2010-06-13T13:46:00.000-07:00

I just got ding dong ditched. Someone must have mistook me for Lady Gaga and put our house on the Map of Stars' Homes. I was really worried that would happen and now it has.

Emily, my oldest friend, came to visit for the weekend and we did pretty much everything there is to do in this town. I'm sorry, when I say did I realistically mean ate. Em, for example, can be spotted in the picture above licking mustard off a stick. We also snuck into Disneyland last night and it was fantastic, even though the whole time I was getting progressively more pissed about how I don't know any real princesses.

xoxo

gossip mantis

10,000

2010-06-10T23:54:00.000-07:00

I hit 10,000 views today and have decided to let everyone in on the celebration via a contest a la real blogs.

CONTEST PARAMETERS

At some point in the next 25 minutes, I will change the name of my blog to FEDORA WORLD for exactly 10 minutes. If you bear witness to this chunk of herstory (I am extremely feminist because it's in), post a comment containing your email address along with a quick description of a funny story from when you had braces. Don't worry, comments are private so only I will see them. If you never had braces you can't win. You also can't win if you're within 3 degrees of Kevin Bacon because in my personal opinion, he looks like a killer. The first 350 people who qualify will receive an email from me with a link to an online coupon I found that lets you get into Soak City for $17.95. It expired in 2007 but just do some clever things with a ballpoint pen and thank me later.

Anyway, I've been drowning in good times up here. It's been a never-ending ball since the day I moved in. Shows and after parties and new friends, oh my. Also a lot of windows optimistically rolled down in gridlocked traffic and food that consequently tastes the way Jiffy Lube smells. But anyway, we had a party the other night and I gave my number to TWO DIFFERENT GIRLS!!!!! Lord knows that's a tough trick to pull in this selfish reproduction-centric society of bitches. But I've got to spread myself like butter over this city's social dance floor because every once in awhile (like now) the friends that I live with clear out like peeps at my 8th grade birthday party. I live with a handful of guys who are in the band Local Natives (watch their Blogotheque takeaway show, it's sooo cool) and they've been home on a break from the road since I moved in... but they just left to tour in Europe for a few weeks. Another roommate is in Voxhaul Broadcast... and they just left for San Francisco. Carly is down in SD working, Adam is usually waterskiing, and Shane just got a questionable part in Vampire Assassins, which might be a movie, but is more likely a trap. So at present I am home alone, and the spirit realm has sassily chosen today to reveal that our house is haunted. Shit keeps falling off of other shit. I'm also afraid of the dark, old carpeting, kitchens, and heights (our room is on the second floor), so these next couple of nights could get pretty grim.

All things considered though, I've never felt so on-the-edge-of-something-great in my whole life. So here's to that! Talk soon.

-Lil Miss Preying M

it's the right night for the wrong company

2010-06-02T00:54:00.000-07:00

Last night I crammed all my belongings, a fistful of 20’s, and a plastic camping mattress into my sassy little Cutlass Supreme (I wish. My Mazda is uninspired.) and bottomed out of my San Diego driveway. I winked at my dad in the rearview mirror, scowled a bit to keep up my punk rock image, and peeled out into the night blasting Violent Femmes and holding the wheel at exactly 12 o’clock with exactly 1 hand. The sunglasses felt really relevent at the time, but retrospective reflection has since shed some light on the danger there. I left at 11:13 and didn’t look back until I rolled up to my new house in LA at 1:00 in the morning. Carly and I stayed up until 4 listening to records, moving our sleeping bags around on the floor, and peering through the blinds as our new roommates stumbled out of cars, onto the front porch, and into our hearts. I love it here. More on them and this and that to come.

Alright, I previously mentioned that we are fast approaching Extreme Blog Makeover. Since I’m no longer doing a loop of the world, the title Kristen vs. Earth feels a bit rich. More like Kristen vs. The Pile of Clothes In The Backseat of Her Car: Because She Knows She Left A Snickers Back There. Yet each challenge is noble in its own right, and so I persevere. Anyway, here is the short list of candidates for the updated blog’s title:

Kristen’s Blog
Blog by Kristen
Kristen: A Blog
Kristen: The Blog
“ “ (the blog formerly known as Prince)
Sorry for Partying
Blogging Molly
My blog ate my homework
Oh I have a bachelor’s degree
My blog ate my resume, job apps, work ethic, and drive to succeed
Cyndi Lauper is literally perfect
Bro ho 4 Jesus
I h8 the Holocaust
BLOG STRONG
The Fartorialist (I am so sorry)
F33L1NG5
Virgin Mary II: The Prologue
The Official Team LC Blog
Live, Laugh, Club
Why does my hair look like a bee hive every day
This laptop is burning my stomach
All I want to do is eat and go to waterparks
I have a surfboard and a Blackberry, why can't I get a boyfriend
We’re looking at the same moon
hAiR n mAkEuP tIpZ
Silverlake: The Real Jersey Shore
Wait, are we groupies?
Oh my gosh you got an 8.6 on Pitchfork, congratulations. What are you guys doing after this?
Id rather be making my own venison jerky!
Deutsche Bags R Us: Your Source for German Handbags

Still brainstorming and openly accepting suggestions.

Well I've got to fly because we're going to see some bands on Sunset with the guys in our house in a few minutes, and at the moment I'm wearing combat boots and a nightgown while Carly looks like Jon-Benet Ramsey. Gotta compete. Until we meet again!

-Marilyn Mantis

blahblahblahblah

2010-05-28T12:32:00.000-07:00

I just got back from running and let me just say this: I am sick and tired of people going “Oh, did you forget something?” when I walk back into the house after my run(someday this will be an S). I already ran you sedentary twit, sorry if I can’t run for as long as you can sit on the love seat watching Regis and Kelly. Plus it’s not raining so why the hell else would my bangs be wet.

Anyway, I had a great day at Vagrant yesterday. I had to go pick up 10,000 Ed Sharpe stickers from a suspicious apartment complex in Van Nuys, count out 1,000 by hand, and drop them off at Universal. That place is nuts… I had to get security clearance, hand over my passport, and get an ID badge (PISSED because it completely nixed any chance that people would think I was Ke$ha). Anyway my point here is that I’m a music industry suit. Without me, what would counterculture 8^th graders put on their binders to make themselves individuals…...? That Sharpie checkerboard pattern would feel so alone it would probably kill itself.

When I got back to the warehouse we went up in the attic… and it’s a treasure paradise. Dashboard Confessional’s gold record plaques, stacks of rare vinyls that will soon be popping up in my ebay store, a flowery teacup (belonging to HORSE The Band’s Erik), a shrink wrapped bottle of Pepto Bismol, old guitars, and a 10 foot square piece of wood with 3D skulls on it. I’ll take pictures next time I go up there...with the new CAMERA that I got for graduation. I took it to Vegas and it never left the car (above) or hotel room (below) because it's really fancy and I know that I'm going to momentarily destroy it.

One more thing about my internship. I take home all the demos that unsigned bands send us. I cut out the faces from their promo photos and put them on my ceiling as a recession-conscious substitute for the glow in the dark stars that have always been my pipe dream. Coming along nicely so far:

I started getting really scared at night of the guy in the upper left, so I made him into a finger puppet to be brought out only when I haven't just finished watching a crime drama or George Lopez Tonight.

Zzyzx Road

2010-05-20T20:29:00.001-07:00

I impulsively quit my job today. Now I'm rolling down the road to Las Vegas trying to emulate the look Sun wears on Lost when pretty much anything happens. It's pretty hard to look dramatically pensive, but its a whole other ballgame trying to look Korean. I'm also listening to Miley songs to reassure myself that it's the climb. She seems pretty positive that it is. So the money hunt starts Monday.

My dad is driving and we just had a flat tire scare. Luckily the sound of air escaping was actually coming from the can of hair spray that he was storing in his back pocket. (He accidentally got the same haircut as Hitler so easy access to the antidote is a must.) It has been solemnly dispensing a steady stream of Extra Hold down his "bermuda shorts" ever since he sat on it an hour ago. We're all quite pleased with our good fortune.

So as for my post-grad plan...
1. I have an internship at Vagrant Records in LA.

2. I'm moving into a house in Silverlake for the summer with seven guys and a fabulous girl named Carly.

3. I use the term "moving" lightly because I'm underratedly in summer school 2 days a week back at Loma. Plus I can't remember the last time my mom didn't wake me up with the phrase "I made french toast.". So I'll be back and forth all summer.

I'm livin la vida broke-a, yet broke is the new black. I'm going to do Extreme Blog Makeover soon so tune in with reckless abandon.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

out with old news

2010-05-20T00:03:00.000-07:00

School ended and I didn’t even die. I am now an independent blogger. I am presently neither funded nor endorsed by The Man and have the option of acting accordingly. I’m too embarrassed to use the F word on here in case my grandma googles me, though, and that’s the only form of rebellion I can actually think of.

EXCEPT STEALING.

I’ve been waiting a long time to get this off my chest...

THE INCIDENT:

A few weeks before the end of school I was in the campus store. I was hungry and I had five dollars. I wanted chili. That’s all I ever want. It was only 2.99 but I was so overcome by embarrassment that I couldn’t bring myself to be spotted at the checkout with it. This was partially because I was carrying a fake Chanel bag at the time and I knew proximity to a Hormel can would cut its believability by at least half. So I stole it. I crammed it into my Chanel and bought an apple to throw Mariela off my tracks. This is how I envisioned that going:

Mariela’s Inner Voice: “That girl probably just stole a can of chili.”

Mariela’s More Rational Yet Sassy Inner Voice : “Real talk girl, that’s impossible because now she is buying an apple. A) the kinds of girls who eat apples for aFtErNoOn sNaCk don’t eat chili B) the kinds of girls who eat chili don’t even go to this school.”

It worked. I walked home, shoulders slumped and head hung low, and when I got there I popped it in the mircrowave and ate it in front of chat roulette. I had gotten over the majority of the guilt after a few days… and then something happened that can only be described as Retribution. Three days after The Incident I stumbled upon a mysterious screen shot saved on my desktop… and I don’t even know how to do screen shots. I really shouldn’t be showing you this:

I had to blur my face for the same reason you can’t look into the eyes of the snake on Indiana Jones. Anyway, the whole ordeal left me with a similar feeling to that which a girl gets when she’s using a toilet seat cover to smudge surplus Neosporin off her beard burn in the TJ Maxx bathroom. (You know what you did.) (I’m talking to myself.)

I’m lying alone in a hostel bed in LA Fashion District eating an abandoned microwave burrito that I found in the freezer. I’m listening peacefully to someone throw up in the communal bathroom. I’m sorry for his loss. I’ll tell you how I got here later, but now that I’ve sufficiently Tiger Woods-ed myself, I think I’ll gracefully bow out. I’ll return shortly with the previously scheduled sparkles and sunshine. I’m looking forward to these infinite tomorrows... because I think my future might actually be bright.

The End of the Beginning

2010-05-11T11:32:00.000-07:00

There are approximately four days left to burn before graduation darkens my doorway. I don’t like the imagery of all my dearest friends dressed up as dementors wearing high heels. Oh well, I'll just Live Strong. I heard Aretha Franklin’s “I Will Survive” on the radio this morning and for the first time since 9^th grade band camp, it brought about a strong emotional response. “BUT WILL I, ARETHA?!?” Blah blah, I’m not even technically graduating… sUmMeR sChOoL rOx! Anyway, peep this:

So I’m at Panera studying for finals and I don’t have enough money to buy anything, so I took an empty soup bowl off of someone else’s table and put it on my own. Worked like a charm. I feel like I belong.

Actually that brings me to a point… I am not an adult. A true adult takes any opportunity to "grab a latte." There is not enough evidence to convict.

30 - 45% of the time I walk to the passenger door of my car even if I’m by myself. And holding my personal car keys. And wearing a power suit. Who died and gave me a driver's license.
I bi-monthly pop in a VHS of one of the Mary-Kate and Ashley Go To Europe and Meet Boys 'films,' and as the credits roll I feel optimistic that someday soon the son of the British Prime Minister will fall in love with me and then I, too, will have a fake sword fight with baguettes. Their glamorous excesses are perpetually on my horizon. They were thirteen. I am twenty two. How did I get here.
I sleep with a stuffed bull dog named Whiskey. (See above: A "prank" I didn't find funny)

I keep waiting for a “you’re adopted” style sit down with my parents where they yell “SURPRISE! You were born in 1997.” Yet despite all of this, I have decided to carry my half-assed stabs at blogging into my adult life with a Whole New Blog once my tenure as Loma Blogger ends. It will feature essays on such mature topics as “What it feels like to know a stockbroker” and “Me and my equity” and “What the blitzen a 401K is.” (No though seriously what is it) Once I dream up an adequately pretentious name for said endeavor, I will link it here. Watch this space.

Please excuse me while I go listen to either Smithsonian Folkways' "Anthology of American Folk Music" or Green Day's "Time of Your Life." I'm confused. I have to go.

P.S. Here's a video I made from when we snuck into Coachella. It's incredibly brief because the trip was incredibly ill-documented:

Point Loma Fashion Week Day 2010

2010-03-04T03:53:00.000-08:00

Today's Fashion News: The number of people who told me that my shirt was see-through today is so high that I think it might count as a sin. Going to pick up my solar panel paycheck...Coworker: "Kristen... you wore a see through shirt to the office." So what if I did, Brad. Anyway, the second most notable bit of fashion news is that I fell asleep on a sequined pillow earlier (not as glam as it sounds, but still notably glam) and woke to find my face so deeply and exquisitely dotted that I had to miss class. We're talking like maybe a nine on a scale of one to Na'vi Princess.

Without further ado,

THE FASHION SHOW

For those of you just tuning in: I'm a fashion merchandising major, so for me Point Loma's annual fashion show is akin to Easter for Jesus. This year they held it on top of the library and "it was sick." -my dad

In a bizarre twist of fate and productivity, I ended up making enough clothes to avoid shattering the moral codes of 9 whole models. Dresses and skirts and little hats for all - a Marxist utopia for the Forever 21 set. It was such a great night and even though we weren't necessarily batting 100 in the area of remaining vertical on the runway (I'm not naming Kelsey Ogdens, I mean names), I wouldn't have changed one thing. There was an art show, a DJ, a chocolate strawberry fountain, and a French guy saying things like "Don't wear a fedora to church" over the loudspeaker... best night ever.

Photo credit: Tracy Le

Au revoir!

..................

2010-02-24T11:50:00.000-08:00

I normally pride myself on my knack for waking up on the living room couch at 1:30pm, peacefully pleased that not only did I miss all of my classes, but all 3 of my roommates managed to get up and out the door without waking me before the chimney sweeps initiated me into their secret book club which meets every other Wednesday beneath the Vatican. I’m a very vocal supporter of full REM cycles. Not a day goes by that I don’t lecture at least one uninterested person on why they must only sleep if they can do it in multiples of 4. Anyway, the point that I was vaguely making up there was: that was then. Right now I’m busy for once. I like it… I find myself whispering “life in the fast lane” under my breath and putting product in my hair to make it look like I’ve been running.

Reasons Why I Bought An Alarm Clock
1. The Point Loma Fashion Show is this Friday! This year I’ve made eight outfits (two in the flesh, six in the sketchbook [insert Call to Prayer] ) and I’ve recruited The Great Tracy Le to do the backstage photography. Expect a Cor-Ken-style post soon.

2. I got 2 jobs. One as a security guard (the receptionist at PLNU Public Safety), and the other as a traveling Solar Panel Sales Representative. I met a guy in a suit at Starbucks, chatted in line, and next thing I know I’m jumping out at married couples shouting “WANT TO SAVE MONEY AND GO GREEN?!?!!!!!!” I’m coming soon to a Landscaping/Home Improvement Showcase near you.

3. I’m going to London next Thursday. We have a $200 budget for 11 days. Put your eyebrows back down, we’re bringing Ramen. It’s fine.

4. “Class.”

5. Not to mention bEiNg a SoCiALiTe iS a FuLL tImE jOb… dUhHhHh.

***calm down, it's a lollipop i just finished

2010-02-14T01:30:00.000-08:00

Sup. This will not be a very involved post... I took Anonymous's advice (in a comment on my last post) and applied for the STA World Traveler Internship. Watch my application video here and vote for me if you don't have arthritis or an urgent Blockbuster return (no late fees my b*tt). At present I have 3 votes and they are all me on 3 different web browsers. I LOVE YOU. -- a tribute to Valentine's Day. Okay and I don't do these very often so make sure not to blink:

< 3

phew... glad that's over. you're welcome. here's the vid:

indie, uh...

2010-02-03T09:04:00.001-08:00

Well well well...

We went beach camping last weekend and I BROKE ANOTHER CAMERA. Anyway, I realized yesterday that I forgot to sell my plasma when I had mono. I could have been rich but instead I'm just healthy. I disgust myself. Sorry for all the sCoRn N' mOuRn... I'm done.

As I wait for camping facebook albums to be uploaded so I can swipe the pics, I've resolved to catch up on my travel logging. Without further ado, INDIA...

I'll open with a quote from one of my favorite people, and in my opinion one of the most intelligent women of today: “India is such an intriguing mix of tatty glamour and raw sewage that you don’t know whether to A. buy a bejewelled turban and join that naked baby pulling a camel by a rope or B. somehow figure out a way to bomb it.” – Kristen Refermat, as excerpted from her journal

Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid. We walked off the boat without a plan, somehow got a last minute flight to Delhi, and at dawn the next day rode the winds to the Indian capital. Jade, Alexis, and I stepped out into the smog, completely clueless, and then blindly followed one ‘Dolce and Dabbana’-sporting Indian gentleman after another until we finally found ourselves in the home office of Shabir, who gave us chai and turned on the air conditioner in our honor. He hooked us up with his friend Dinesh who we would come to know and love as our driver and friend on the best road trip of our lives: 4 days bumping along through Northern India in a heavily tassled tan sedan, jamming to the same Bollywood tape and probing into Dinesh’s personal life. Lanky and fabulous, his favorite color is red. Blue-loving Gulshan (a future friend) would go on to say that red was ‘for the ladies’ but Dinesh doesn’t care. He loves it. And another great thing about him is that whenever we’d get out of the car to do anything, we would return to find he had subtly altered his outfit. Loafers became sandals. Sudden appearance of belt. Blue dress shirt gets untucked/unbuttoned for a more casual look.

Highlights from the Road: We befriended two old Indian hoteliers who took us on a midnight tour of Agra in their red SUV and tried to sneak us into the Taj Mahal to see it under the full moon. Rescheduled for sunrise when this backfired. One night we slept at the palace of an old Maharaja. We spent most evenings cross-legged on cushions eating curry and naan on rooftops lit by the stars as the day's dust settled. Men played exotic instruments, women twirled with bells on their ankles.

We rode elephants where cars couldn't pass and we blazed trails through the miles of winding bazaars, bleeding rupees. Somewhere in the alleys of Jaipur we found the quilt maker who exports his quilts to Urban Outfitters and he asked me if I was Hilary Duff. In my dreams, I said. Gulshan's best friend was opening a restaurant... he let us in the night before the grand opening and prepared almost the whole menu for us for free, begging us to bless the restaurant and bring them good fortune. They dubbed us the Three Goddesses of Rose Palace and took our picture and hung it on the wall. My favorite times were spent half-asleep in Dinesh's backseat, watching the mass of humanity/absurdity flick past me in a technicolor whirl. My favorite thing: on a deserted road with nothing for miles in either direction we passed a dusty 12 piece marching band, fully decked out in royal blue and gold with feathers in their hats... just sitting on the ground looking bored. One minute later we narrowly escaped a head on collision with a camel-drawn hay cart. It even freaked Dinesh out: "My heart beat quick quick. No hurry, no worry, no chicken curry." C'est la vie.

And with that, I give you....

Someone else's comtemplative face.

Mantis out.

How dare you

2010-01-29T00:46:00.001-08:00

I've got news. I just went for a run (not the news, but let's be real: it was avante garde of me) and when I came back I walked up to my apartment and saw that the furniture on our balcony was gone. "Oh how excellent," I thought, "We're getting pranked. I'm finally popular. I hope it's boys instead of the equally biceppy but not-as-willing-to-date-me Ally Beardsley." The door was locked. I pounded on it for 30 seconds and then peeked between the blinds, unearthing a robust woman with an asymmetrical bob standing frozen by my bedroom door, gazing at me with what I recognized as a thirst for my lifeblood. Armed robbery. I couldn't believe it. "HEY. HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE." She didn't move. I was already internally bleeding from my 3 laps around the track so after a minute-long stare down I retreated to the curb to await my roommates' return so they could do the dirty work: killing her.

Well anyway I'm bored of this charade, I'll cut to the chase... it was the wrong building. I swear to the heavens, the possibility of that didn't even occur to me, proving, ipso facto, physical exercise impairs knowledge retention. Someone do a study on that quick and get a recall on Stairmasters before someone gets hurt. Anyway I've been doing loads of fun things lately but I'm waiting on pictures to prove it. I'll be back soon.

Anatomically Correctly,
Mantis Refermat

p.s. Below is a little photographic taste of recent madness. Oh wait really quick that reminds me… One day on SAS I was checking out a library book and, when asked my surname by the librarian, said 'Refermat.' Some vegetarian (On a separate occasion I'd overheard him remark that beans were his only source of protein. I made some inferences.) poked his head out of the stacks and said "I have that movie." I was skeptical. We talked it out and all confusion was brought to rest: he'd thought I said "Reefer Madness: The Musical."

I’m back

2010-01-18T18:05:00.001-08:00

Foreward by the author:

I've been home from abroad now for nearly a month and have battled my way through a small bouquet of hardships: a crashed hard drive, a relaxing case of mono, a devastating shortage of iCarly re-runs , the news that I'm getting braces again aka will never be popular, and a coming-of-age style realization that high school marching band doesn't give me the right to call myself "athletic" 5 years later. Having survived, am I stronger? No, not at all… I'm still impressively lazy and have the muscle definition of a weak cat. With that said, welcome to the jungle…

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HEY! It's been a long time people... "my bad." It's cute of me to claim to be a blogger when I post exactly 5 times in the span of 6 months. Anyway, brushing that off, I've moved back on campus and am now bravely smiling down the tunnel of my final collegiate semester. Semester at Sea was like a dream; I can't get into that right now or I'll throw up on my laptop. Over the coming months I'll slip in posts about the final 5 countries which I never wrote about because I ran out of ship-board internet minutes. As I type, Southern California is poised at the beginning of a beautiful week of the worst storms in history. I'm very pleased. I simply adore going to class with wet hair without everyone assuming that it's back sweat down my shirt. Rain: The Great Equalizer. I look bad, you look bad. LET'S DO THIS!!!!!!!!!!

Stay tuned for tales of mud sledding and freshmen hydroplaning down caf lane. It's a wonderful world.

Signing off,

Mantis (short for Refermantis. I'm trying to get this to take off.)

MAURITIUS

2009-11-29T08:30:00.000-08:00

I write to you from the Twilight Zone***. It’s midnight… One minute ago it was November 28th and one minute from now it will also be November 28th. Don’t worry about it…

Anyway, I am dreadfully behind. The Pacific Ocean looms on all sides as we brave its stormy depths en route to Hawaii, our final port. What? No I’m not crying, how dare you. I’ll use the upcoming 3000 nautical miles to catch you up on the last five countries. First stop: Mauritius.

The little island off the coast of Madagascar was a necessary Texaco for the ship, so all of us got two nights to run amuck in the sun after Midterms. Let’s rewind a few weeks… Megan, Jeff, Jade, Bill, The Brothers Garcia (whose real names are Kevin and Brett Wil-something, but this is irrelevant), and I decided to rent a villa. Online we found an awesome mini-mansion by the beach with its own pool and hammock. We were pleased. Enter Jacques - pronounced “jah-KWEESE” for all incorrect intents and purposes. He was the man in charge and he was alllll about us. But after 2 weeks of Jacques emailing Megan at least 4 times daily (almost always finding a way to incorporate the phrase “ooh la la”) and sending us pictures of his family and car along with a detailed description of his most recent vacation and a list of activities we could do with his sons, we all started feeling dimly nauseous. Then he Google Earth-ed Megan’s house. Game over.

So there we were, 15 minutes before our arrival in port, frantically searching for a new villa. Several hours later, across the island in Grand Bay: Ikbal, the new Jacques, arrives at the doorstep of our new villa to let us in and hand over the keys. It’s absolutely gorgeous… except that it has no sheets, has no toilet paper, has pink shimmering metallic mattress coverlets, and is otherwise completely undecorated except for the smallest vase you can possibly imagine adorning the mini fridge. By Day 2 the running water on the second floor decided to back out of the deal. But there was a hose in the front yard…SO WE LOVED IT.

In the coming days and nights we had sooo much fun. Just plain and simple good times with good friends. I can’t even do these days justice with only my meager words. We walked from our house to the beach and ran into the water and played football and climbed trees and swam and laughed and I bought an extravagant ring floatie for 10 bucks. An extravagant rip. Then we made a deal with a guy on the beach who took us on a snorkeling trip for 10 bucks (don’t think I don’t see the irony here). We had a glass bottom boat all to ourselves and we took it way out to sea; the water was so clear you could see zebra fish for miles. We jumped off the boat’s roof and swam underneath it to flip each other off through the glass bottom and took the floatie out into the deep and it was just sooo fun.

It started getting dark so we went to the store to buy groceries and then didn’t buy anything but Top Ramen. We got back home to find that one of The Brothers had bought himself a ‘personal snack’ consisting of Doritos. What’s that about… Anyway, the other Brother and I had a water fight with the hose in the front yard (difficult with only one hose. Tactics were limited: take turns spraying each other in face; “make it rain” so everyone loses) and then found a drawer full of candles and played with them in the driveway. We also filled the bathtub to turn it into your standard “Jacuzzi” and crammed four of us in there for 2 hours just living it up. That night we went dancing at a place on the beach called Banana Bar where a reggae band was playing. In the wee hours of the morning, as the singer with dreads-to-the-floor got awkward cause he ran out of Bob Marley songs, we decided to swim wayyyy out in the harbor to where all the jumbo yachts were docked. It was the greatest achievement of my life… silently parting the pitch black waters of the Indian Ocean, mischief masked by darkness. We climbed their anchor ropes like pirates and lay in the nets watching for shooting stars in the Milky Way. Then we’d back flip off the back of one yacht and swim on to the next. I don’t want to say The Perfect Crime, but…

The next day our friend Kate’s rich cousin flew in from Dubai for the day and paid for all of our friends to spend the entire day sailing around the island on a yacht. It was so awesome; we sat out on the bow taking turns doing the thing from Titanic and then the yacht docked off the coast of a tiny island and we all jumped off the boat and swam out to it. They barbecued on the back deck and we all acted dumb together and the whole thing just reeked of happiness and light.

Spent another carefree night twirling at Banana Bar and another morning on the sand. We had to leave that afternoon and I hated it. I feel like this would be the appropriate time to scream SPRING BREAK 09 and wave my shirt above my head…

Additional Notes:
-I’d like to extend a warm Congratulations to Jeff for facing his fears. He is an unbelievably weak individual and is afraid of almost every thing we saw and did. He went swimming, jumped off something, and looked at fish. Bravo Jeff, we’re proud of you.

-I wore the same dress from the moment I got off the ship to the moment I got back on the ship. I packed a full backpack of Attractive Beach Wear… but if the dress fits, wear it.
P.S. I even wore it in the Jacuzzi.

***I’m not naming names, but The International Date Line wouldn’t be out of the question.

SOUTH AFRICA

2009-10-21T01:50:00.001-07:00

South Africa was honestly one of the best times of my whole life. That first morning, most of the “shipboard community” rolled out of bed in time to watch the sun rise over Cape Town as a few wise dolphins guided us into the port. Straight off the ship we took a taxi to the foot of Table Mountain and our driver, Ricky, demonstrated his rave hands in time with Beyonce’s “If I Was A Boy” and honked at any car that dared be driven by anyone but him. Life in the fast lane, I said to him. Only 4 of our original group of 12 dared to take on the 3 hour trail to the summit. It was essentially a vertical ascent and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Since band camp. We took a break halfway up by lying in a waterfall (back sweat insurance) and took subsequent breaks every couple minutes. By the end I had moved from my position at the front of the pack, where I had been impressively bounding off out-of-the-way rocks, to a position 20 feet behind the rest, crawling on all fours, muttering “this too shall pass” under my wheeze. We finally made it and the view was so beautiful, made all the better by the fact that I could share it with my still-beating heart. We (my heart and I) rewarded ourselves with an apple spritzer. Took the cable car back down the mountain, in manner of Willy Wonka elevator.

By this time it was early evening, also known as time for a feast. We found a restaurant and sat there for almost 3 hours, just chain eating. We talked about everything and our little group of four friends (Megan Haley Jade me) has since credited that dinner as ‘the moment we knew.’ One order of nachos, a pizza bread, a greek salad, 2 slices of pizza, and 2 chocolate milkshakes later, I accidentally fell asleep. We took that as a cue to gracefully bow out. That night we met up with 3 of our guy friends and went to an Irish pub where a live band was playing Wonderwall seemingly on repeat. That night took many twists and turns and we ended up dancing until the early hours at a discotheque on top of a building with a backdrop of Cape Town in fairy lights.

The next day we went to the aquarium, a marketplace, and Subway (sorry), and just absorbed the feeling that comes from existing at the bottom of Africa. I’m skipping things in favor of keeping this as brief as possible, which still isn’t brief, so onward and upward. The next day we rose early and headed out into the world to find a driver willing to take us to Stellenbosch, which is South Africa’s answer to Napa Valley if Napa was a huge college town. We checked into our hostel, Stumble Inn, ha, and set out for a full day of touring the region’s winelands and vineyards and cellars. We wended our way through the hills to four wineries, cheese tasting and acting sophisticated and lying in fields all the while. We also had a delicious South African lunch at a restaurant with our guide, who openly and deeply disliked me. I was forced to ask the question “Would you ever hit a woman?” He was not pleased. The rolling green vineyards and misty air made for such a magical day and by the end we’d made a hundred friends and a thousand laughs.

We spent that whole night hanging out with the South African college kids at a place called Terrace and it was exactly exactly exactly how I always wanted college to be. I briefly considered transferring there, it’s just SO FUN. The place was packed and they were blasting Blink 182 and screaming the words and everyone was throwing flour and garlic at each other like in the food fights of my dreams. And everyone was dressed like I wanted them to be, not that that’s important.

Next day we were up early for a SAFARI. We all wore the exact same outfit (except for Jeff, who we subtly excluded the rest of the day). Black pants + black ‘The Goat Father’ shirts we had bought at one of the wineries. The Aquila Game Reserve was 2 hours away, but luckily the guy working the front desk ‘knew a guy’ and hooked us up with a driver the night before, so that morning he showed up just half an hour late, and we threw our backpacks in his hatchback and set off into the mountains. Our driver was the striking leather-clad John Johnson, whose only qualification seemed to be has truck with hatchback. A brief ode to JJ: He used to have hair that he could sit on but he cut it off four years ago to start a new chapter of John. I jokingly asked where the hair was now, and he replied “in my cupboard.” The catch: his ex-fiance recently stole it so she could do voodoo on him. The present location is unknown. Also, he says the F word a lot… why? His mother was struck by lightning while he was in the womb. Lastly, he has a dual obsession with Y2K (9 years man…) and the Mega Volcano of 2012, which will destroy all but 3% of the population. Anyway we had the time of our lives with him; he took us to McDonalds, bought us a mini picture book about shacks (which we thought was a gift, but he later reclaimed), and played Trance music the ENTIRE ride, pumping his fist and flipping his hair with the rhythm, except for a brief intermission during which he put on Michael Buble’s Call Me Irresponsible. At the end of the day we found out he wasn’t a tour guide OR a professional driver… he was just the roommate of the guy who did our winelands tour. Nevertheless, I miss him.

So John went off into the wild to wait for us and we set out into the bush in the Comvee (Wild Thornberries reference)… it was SO AWESOME, we saw everything out there: elephants, zebras, rhinos, hippos, springbok, antelope, lions, ostriches, water buffalo, and a lot of wide open Africa. They gave us blankets and sparkling apple juice and we just sat back as they drove the Comvee unbelievably close up to the animals. The land itself was equally incredible though… there’s more sparkle in the water and the clouds are swirlier…everything looks like Lion King. Anyway, after our hugely successful game drive, we retired to the lodge where they fed us the hugest best buffet lunch of all time and where I ate an entire wheel of brie cheese. On the ride back to Cape Town, John told us that bushmen used to live on the reserve and, up until the early 90s, a white man could obtain a license to hunt them. That’s just sick. It seems so far removed now, but in the span of history we were in South Africa right on the tails of apartheid. It’s only been 15 years for Moses’ sake.

Back in Cape Town, we went out to dinner and headed out to Mitchell’s which was packed out for karaoke. Haley and I performed the most moving Don’t Stop Believin that the world has ever seen. There was disco. There was twirling. There were people standing on tables to get a better view. There was a woman in the front row crying. All those flashbulbs and smiling faces… I’ll never forget it. Then we went to a college disco (bizarrely located in a shopping mall) and rocked out to Blink 182 all over again all night.

Our final day was spent around the wharf, trying to go shark diving. We booked 3 different early morning shark diving trips, all of which were cancelled due to rough seas. Rage. We accepted defeat and that night we dolled up and headed out for a fancy girls night out dinner. I ate ostrich and deep fried cheese. It was a beautiful thing. They had animal print blankets on each chair for you to wrap up in since the tables were out by the water, and at the end of our meal Haley and I surreptitiously didn’t surrender them (if sprinting away from the scene with a large blanket under your dress can be surreptitious). We spent the whole night dancing, wearing the blankets as fur stoles. I’ve never had so much fun in my life… until I fell off a table and jacked up my shin. But the show had to go on and at least I had a zebra fur to add some polish to my tarnished dignity. The sun came up and we got back on the ship just in time for breakfast.

That evening we bid Cape Town farewell from the top deck and I solemnly vowed to return. This is the first port where I can seriously see myself coming to live; I love the people and there’s so much to do and I feel like there’s work there that needs doing. As we set sail and waited for the city lights to fade into the ink, I cried a solitary black tear. “This is not Goodbye, South Africa,” I whispered, “it’s merely TTYL.”

GHANA

2009-10-02T19:51:00.000-07:00

Ghana may have been my favorite country yet. I LOVE it and want to live there forever (once I’m done being a gypsy forever). Name me one other country where you can find a Pizza Inn next to a Chicken Inn next to a Creamy Inn, eat at all three in quick succession, walk outside and buy a xylophone, then get hit by a car. But these are the least of Ghana’s charms.

We ported in Tema and took a 45 minute bus into Accra, the capital of Ghana. We spent the whole afternoon and night hanging out with the locals and shopping the marketplace and just generally having fun. The Ghanaian people are hands down the nicest people I’ve ever met; I have a small yet intimate posse of Ghanaian friends now. Shacka, Casey, Brooklyn, Momi, and Blessing are at the top of my list of “Groomsmen that I will force my husband to include”… Those guys…

The next day we rose with the sun and got on a bus to Tafi Atome, a monkey sanctuary in a village 4 hours away. We brought Megan’s little iPod speaker, dubbed “Gohnathan with a G,” so the whole day The Short Bus was popping. The only problem was that the Ghanaian guys were not satisfied with anything short of a constant stream of Akon. And so it passed that we partook in a Traditional Naming Ceremony to the tune of “Smack That.” My Ghanaian name is Esi. Once we arrived at Tafi Atome, our guide Prince led us on a tour of the surrounding jungle, through villages and schools and an orphanage. Everyone seemed so genuinely happy to see us and so eager to rapidly become the best friends. The kids were adorable in their gingham school dresses and shirts, politely soliciting anything and everything attached to our bodies. By the end of the day I had rid myself of 4 hair ties, 1 headband, a bracelet, a pen cap, 18 cedi (about 12 dollars), and a brochure for Soak City. Thank God, too… that stuff was really putting a target on my head pick-pocket-wise. THEN I fed a banana to a monkey with my bare hands and he peeled it with his bare hands (bare feet? bare talons? Not important.)

From there we took the bus to Wli Falls which is my favorite thing in Ghana. We hiked 45 minutes to it (the highest waterfall in all of West Africa), and since it’s Africa (NO RULES!!!) no one stopped us from touching/getting into anything. We swam in the pool at the base of the falls where the falling water hits the still water with so much force that you cannot see 2 feet in front of you. It’s just a huge pit of cloud where the water slaps your skin like a catholic school nun and rainbows play follow the leader with your eyes. And then out of nowhere, thousands of bats went on a mosh pit rampage in the sky above us. IT WAS UNREAL. That night everyone went out dancing in Tema and I met a guy from the Netherlands named Fart. (moment of reverent silence) When I wasn’t subtly trying to impress Fart, Megan and I spent nearly all of our time doing the Single Ladies dance with a 4-pack of Asian midgets. We completely disregarded our entire demographic in favor of this exotic treat. I have no idea what business they had in Ghana (or what business they had existing) but I have never regretted anything less in my life.

The next day we rose at dawn again to embark on the highly anticipated “Castles and Slave Dungeons Tour.” Weeks before this fateful day, I began subtly slipping it into conversation as “Dungeons and Dragons” …at first there was confusion and resistance but by the time we got on the bus, the system infiltration was complete. All involved parties were referencing it without a trace of irony. A private victory. They led us to Cape Coast, complete with postcard beaches and a market spread across boats on the harbor. We toured two castles that were major players in the slave trade and each had a maze of dark dungeons where they stacked the slaves-to-be like meat waiting to be shipped out to the New World; it was so weird standing down in those dungeons picturing all the blood and tears that were spilled on the same stones. But then they fed us 'Lunch' and things got weirder. A sandwich (in order of appearance, top to bottom): bread - chicken salad - bread - hot dog chunks - bread - egg salad - bread. WHYYYYYY… The thing is, I thought it was delicious. I had to eat it surreptitiously, though, because everyone else found it “offensive” and I didn’t want to be the weird kid. That night we went to hang out in Accra and went to a dance club with a live band. We arrive. Fast forward 20 minutes: I am playing the trumpet onstage.

The final day was previously alluded to in Paragraph One of this post, but I’ll elaborate. We took the bus into Accra one last time and ate at the aforementioned 3 restaurants. I then purchased my beloved xylophone as well as a floor length green tie dye mumu which I wore the entire day in order to not look like a tourist… we then got Glamour Shots taken by a talented Ghanaian photographer (who failed to remove his dry cleaning from our backdrop) and then I walked outside and BAM got sideswiped by some punk in a mini van. My shoulder was clicking for a few days but now all has returned to its natural order. Life is good.

I absolutely loved Ghana because, not only is it gorgeous, but the people are so great. They would stop at nothing to help us; I thought my camera got stolen one night and I had 12 Ghanaian guys forming search parties and whipping out cell phones to call their thief friends. Megan ended up finding it in my purse after 2 seconds of looking, but that is irrelevant. And the guys rejoiced with me like it was our mutual prodigal son. I LOVE GHANA and I didn’t do it justice in this post because right now it’s 4:30am and we pull into South Africa in an hour and a half. There’s no time to procrastinate like the present. I must sleep. I’ve got outrageous plans in SA, but I kind of promise to maybe be punctual with my update when I get back. WISH ME LUCK IN THE INFINITE ABYSS.

(glamour shot)

MOROCCO

2009-09-21T19:41:00.000-07:00

WHERE DO I BEGIN. First off I'll say this: I deleted all of my pictures from Morocco. I can't even blame it on a thief, a technical problem, or a flood. I was just leisurely strolling through my photos and then clicked "delete all" instead of "delete just this one I took of myself from underneath my chin."

But I borrowed some from my friends (see above) and things look more magical from my minds' eye anyway. So I will now give you a glimpse:

We ported in Casablanca and stepped off the ship into the beginnings of a monsoon. Pissed-off-looking storm clouds hung low in the African sky as Megan, Kelly, Jeff, Jeff's brother Jordan (simply "The Brother" for all intents and purposes) and I made our way to the train station with 5 days to kill and high hopes to fill. We accidentally bought 2nd Class tickets to Marrakech; we realized this after a Moroccan girl said "Oh... you are peasants?" After awhile we managed to wrangle some seats but for the first portion we were stuck at the joint between two cars, open air on either side of us, just one unfortunately-placed banana peel away from becoming road kill. We played Go Fish and laughed ourselves into comas.

Four hours later we arrived in Marrakech and were greeted by the absolute 100% most torrential downpour I have ever ever ever witnessed. There was no distinction between raindrops... walking = swimming. We ran/hydroplaned in the apocalyptic manner of the street people in King Kong, and we finally made it to a taxi soaked to our bones. The streets were rivers and we couldn't see 2 feet in front of the car. After floating into the medina (the old walled city), we found our way to the riad/hostel where I stayed last time I was in Marrakech...walking through the streets and tunnels all lit up in the rain was among my favorite moments of my life.

We were in Morocco during Ramadan, meaning the entire Muslim population (aka the whole city... there is no separation of church and state. It's all one thing... "Chate") fasts from sun up to sun down. Everyone eats huge feasts after sunset and people of all ages are out in Jmaa el Fna, the big square with all the snake charmers and story tellers and pickpockets, until the early hours of the morning. So we jumped right in and did the same... Best chicken kebab I've ever had, even though we watched the cook lick his fingers and then individually manhandle each piece.

The next morning the five of us set out for the nicest hammam in town. This is a traditional bath house where huge half naked Moroccan women scrub you, throw buckets of water at your face, gossip about your lack of muscle definition in Arabic, bring you mint tea, and have you sit in a beautifully tiled steam room. Then you get a massage (set to a soundtrack of Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You played on traditional Moroccan instruments... I'm not kidding) and they run Moroccan oils through your hair. It's so cool and I emerged cleaner than I’ve ever been in my life. We wandered into the souks (markets) with every intention of getting lost and then spent four hours walking through the maze of treasures, turning corners on a whim and amassing collections of leather purses, antique bangles, "magic boxes", and love potions. I bought a tambourine from the man who sold Led Zeppelin their exotic instruments; he had pictures with Robert Plant to prove it. We started playing the instruments and it transformed into a massive jam session... people gathered to watch and photograph us.

That night we went out to a restaurant on a rooftop with a bunch of SAS people we ran into, and the night culminated with the five of us playing Monkey In The Middle with 10 Moroccan hipsters and their soccer ball. The next morning we had crepes and orange juice on our hostel’s rooftop then we instantly and irrationally decided to go to Essaouira, a beach town 4 hours away that you could only get to on the one bus per day they had out of town. We RAN to the bus station and barely made it. Essaouira’s medina walls drop right into the ocean and its colorful maze of alleys and markets are charmingly illogical. For example, there is multicolored string that hangs in the air lengthwise down the alleys, and everyone has to duck to get around it, but no one could explain to me why it’s there. In the 70s the city was a major stop on the hippie trail and Jimi Hendrix, Cat Stevens, Bob Marley, etc. would come and stay for weeks on end wallowing in the sun and the cheap drugs. Speaking of addictions, I ate a sick number of street pastries. The marketplace was seemingly untouched by time or tourism and looked straight out of the year 17; I could easily picture teenage Jesus on any given corner, eating a chocolate cupcake with sprinkles (these were inexplicably everywhere and cost about 5 cents) and negotiating a renegade sprinkle out of his beard. We sunbathed down by the seaside, "chilled" with fellow travelers on the mural-covered candlelit roof of our hippie hostel (the #2 hostel in Africa!!!), hung out at the water’s edge at night, and saw the most beautiful sunset ever while standing on the city wall. We also discovered this one secret cafe up a spiral staircase where we found the owner painting amidst a collection of guitars and pillows. We were the only ones in there so he let me play his guitar and I wrote a song while we waited for our food. The unfortunate thing is that the song ended up being "Closing Time" by Semisonic. We sang it like we owned it and Mohammad will never know the difference.

We were having such a great time we forgot to figure out how to get home and ended up having to take a desperate midnight bus back to Casablanca, arriving with the sun at 6am in time to catch the boat. While waiting for midnight, we ate a 5 course dinner at the 5 star Hotel Des Iles where Jimi always stayed and where he wrote a lot of music. Then after a series of ridiculous mishaps (including the three of us girls chasing the bus down the street screaming), I ended up crammed into the window seat with one old toothless Moroccan man dead asleep on my shoulder and another sitting at my feet with his elbow propped up on my knee. But I turned on the music in my ears and watched the Milky Way float above my window, so all was well with my soul. Got on the ship and slept for 12 hours.

Here today, GHANA TOMORROW.

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SPAIN!

2009-09-16T16:24:00.000-07:00

PARENTAL ADVISORY: This will be obscenely long. I'm not sorry.

Let me set the scene…

I’m sitting in a wooden treehouse. A suspicious black cat comes slinking out of a shadowy hole (presumably a den of thieves) in the adjoining red tile rooftop. The echoes of the gypsies’ tambourines come drifting down the alleyway. Nearby, someone is whistling “Everybody Dance Now”…

Welcome to Spain.

But let me rewind. I awoke that first morning to someone running down the corridor screaming “LAND!” in a British accent. We ran up to the top deck as the sun was coming up and saw birds circling for the first time in over a week. We watched the ship pull into Cadiz, Spain, and a good friend turned to me and said in all seriousness “I’m so happy right now.” Going against all my natural instincts, I didn’t mock her.

We had no plans except a vague (burning) desire to attend Cascamorras, which is a festival near Granada where everyone throws paint at each other and runs through the streets. So we hopped on a bus to Granada and 5 hours later we turned up at an abandoned wooden door that turned out to lead to the best hostel I’ve ever been to. The treehouse is only the tip of the iceberg… a huge courtyard and bean bags and floor pillows and hammocks galore. Basically what I’m saying is this place is the Seating Capital of Spain. We met so many unruffled (I just used Thesaurus to get a synonym for “cool”) people hanging out there and that night Fernando, a Spanish guy who worked at the hostel, took a few of us out on the town with him to the haunts where the locals go. We went salsa dancing and there wasn’t an English speaker in sight. I twirled with the best of them and by the end of it all I was hoisted above the crowd into the DJ booth and was spotted spinning with DJuan Antonio. Back at the hostel we ditched our bunks to sleep in the hammocks under the Spanish sky.

The next day we walked through the winding alley maze of the Albaizin, down the narrow Moroccan markets (there’s a huge North African influence in Granada), and climbed the hill in the middle of town to tour Alhambra, which is amazingly beautiful/huge and reminds me of the following SAT problem… Hogwarts:Alhambra::Harry Potter:Jarrí Póter. A huge portion of the day was devoted to sitting in various tapas bars across the city eating plate after plate of little food and talking about life, love, and the infinite abyss with our new friend collection. That evening at 4pm, this British guy Ed was supposed to pick us up in his rent-a-car to take us to Guadix, the town where Cascamorras was held. HE NEVER SHOWED. “The Most Vivid Hatred Ever Felt” is a good way to describe the general Ed-related feelings that night. I gathered the troops and made a valiant effort to get us there by autobus but by the time we got there the festival would be over. (Epilogue: I later found out they were actually throwing motor oil at each other… I’m speechless. That’s just sketchy is all.)

Later that night my Australian friend Eliza and I went to get ice cream at this lookout where you could see Alhambra all lit up. On our way back we heard music in the distance and followed it through the streets until we stumbled upon a walled park where gypsies were playing music in a circle. They invited us to join them and were so welcoming, aka they didn’t touch my purse. The music wasn’t like anything I’ve heard before, and they all wear cool clothes and smile and dance and sing and all I want to do is be a gypsy for the rest of my life. We hung out with them in the park clapping and dancing for awhile longer and then got kebabs in the street and called it a night. ‘Sleepover In The Hammocks II,’ if you want to get specific about what kind of a night we called it.

Next day we took the train to Sevilla with 3 of the people we had met. Checked into another great hostel after a 3 hour long hunt in the heat. The boys hunted and we girls actually just ate gelato in various air conditioned buildings. Beds were scarce so I ended up in a 4 person room with The Trifecta, as I affectionately christened them: Three 60+ year old men from “Holland” who never wore shirts, were tanned to a crisp, and smelled worse than anything I’ve ever imagined, if the ‘anything’ in question lived inside a toilet in India. Anyway, we bopped around the city and went out for Paella Night with a group of Australians from the hostel who were hilarious and had a waterproof camera (# of pictures of ourselves taken through the inside of a glass of sangria: infinity). We found an extremely authentic (i.e. the best dancer was wearing zip off cargos and a polo shirt/belly top hybrid) Flamenco place where everyone just gets up on the stage at will to show their stuff. One of the Australians, Chris, and I practiced SO HARD in the corner and got really good and asked if we could dance onstage. They said “si” enthusiastically, then proceeded to ignore us until 2:00 in the morning when the festivities ended. We were so unnecessarily nervous. The place closed so we all went and hung out down by the river for the rest of the night and I finally rejoined The Trifecta as the sun was rising. A great day.

The next morning we took the train back to Cadiz and hung out with everyone there until we had to be back on the ship at 6:00pm. I had such an unbelievable time in Spain and I can’t even wait to see what’s next. NEXT STOP: AFRICA. Hasta Morocco mis amigos.

i'm studying abroad - the sequel

2009-08-24T18:36:00.000-07:00

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Summer (see above) has met its demise... school is back and Target has already sold out of protractors. I'm now a senior with no legitimate reason not to graduate in May, despite my robust attempt to fail one class per year, subtly tricking them into letting me stay until 2011. When you're this intelligent, failing becomes a chore.

Anyway, an unrelated and insignificant side note: I'm going on Semester at Sea tomorrow. Yikes.

(^ that's where we're going)

I am now not only blogging for the Admissions Department, but for the Study Abroad Department as well, which explains why my picture appears here and here. I say this to dispel ALL RUMORS circling about how my ever evasive twin, Kristen, is blogging for the latter while I, Kristen, continue blogging for the former. Anyway, two birds are dead and I am the stone thrower. I'm not sorry.

So my bags are (not) packed, and I'm (not) ready to go, so without further ado please excuse me while I embark on a daring nautical voyage to circumnavigate planet Earth on the high seas, come Hell or high water (or Hurricane Bill... who I am not enthusiastic about).

Goodnight and good luck to myself,

Kristen

P.S. Next time we meet I will be scarfing tapas and overusing the phrase "HASTA LA VISTA BABY"... see you in Spain my friends.

Also...

Here is a link to the web page that tells you how to send me letters on the ship. Fan mail readily accepted. (Here's lookin at you, Grandma)

http://www.semesteratsea.org/current-voyage/overview/staying-in-touch.php

Summer. (also known as The End)

2009-05-20T18:21:00.000-07:00

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Hello my friends,

My apologies for all my empty promises. When technology (video camera connector cord) goes on strike there is little I can do but scream and flail it around like a whip. Now summer has arrived and I'm technically not getting paid anymore. I could turn this blog into a Curse Word Sanctuary and my bosses have no legal right to punish me. (That may not actually be true; I'll ask my lawyers) But instead I think I will continue with business as usual. Old habits die hard.

Before I continue my Point Loma related blogging, I want to take a Time Out to shamelessly promote my pathetic stab at summer moneymaking. I give you......

aLittleBirdSoldMe.etsy.com... an online vintage 'boutique' (that's rich...) featuring Things I No Longer Want.

Yesterday I coerced my sister Alli into hiking out to a field behind our house and trying on all my merchandise so I could take pictures of it. Here are some of the fruits of our labors. And by labors I mean me wearing a bucket hat and rainboots while swatting mosquitos off her face and yelling "STOP SMILING, THIS CAN'T GO ON YOUR MYSPACE."

I'll be back before long to fulfill my long list of promises (maybe.)
Until then (potentially never),

Kristen

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irrelevance is bliss

2009-05-09T16:07:00.000-07:00

So the year is winding down and classes have ended. Starting Monday we'll all be taking an unpleasant jaunt down Finals Week Lane (not to be confused with Caf Lane, the fashion capital of the Northern Hemisphere). As my good friend Ally Beardsley (alias: BeardsQuest) explained, finals week is like that man you see standing by your car late at night wearing latex gloves and a ski mask. You think to yourself, 'Oh that'll never happen.' Then he's putting you in your trunk. Luckily most of my finals consist of distinguishing between a Cotton blouse and a Rayon blouse, so I'm not as worried as some.

All in all, this has been the best year of my life. I'm a liar by nature, but this time I'm loosely serious. Lessons were learned (i.e. DON'T NOT REGISTER YOUR CAR!!!!!!!!!), pranks were pulled, 3am burritos were consumed (two in a row is not unheard of), important documents were lost, and I laughed until I threw up on hundreds of occasions (white lie). A good year. I'm working on something special for my last post of the year, but until then here is a rundown of some of my Junior Year's Last Hoorahs:

THE RESCUE

I'm sure many of you heard about this. It was an event in support of the Invisible Children... we slept outside by the bay downtown in simulation of what the kids in the LRA camps have to suffer through on a nightly basis. On a much safer and more luxurious scale, though. In accidental keeping with the theme of destruction and misery, the sprinklers came on around midnight and even the typically composed were screaming bloody murder and clawing at the necks of those who weren't running fast enough. My friends and I ended up sleeping on a sliver of grass in the middle of a parking lot and somehow missed the 'waking up' portion of the event... leaving us sketchily passed out until almost noon, while mothers wheeled their strollers past us and shielded their babies' eyes.

(This was supposed to say "LOVE" I believe. The universe couldn't stomach the cliche and instead churned out a lovely "SUK"... Bravo on the end there, Christie. That squiggle is beautiful, if irrelevant.)

...and when i wasn't doing that, I spent the rest of my time doing this:

I'm kidding... I was only like that for a couple of hours.

TO BE CONTINUED, I SWEAR

Happy Birthday Everyone! Mainly Me Though.

2009-04-19T18:57:00.000-07:00

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I turned 21. It's the end of an era... life as a pre-teen is officially OFFICIALLY over. No more acting offended when waiters refuse to bring me the '12 and under' chicken fingers. The proverbial 'they' dragged me kicking and screaming into adulthood though, and I still managed to proverbially punch them in their faces by having a bounce house at my birthday party.

Case in point.

But anyway I had a whole weekend of festivities in addition to The Afternoon Delight, including but not limited to: a trip to Santa Monica Pier and the original Hot Dog on a Stick , a night of hijinx and hurting people at Disneyland, a secret midnight kidnapping of myself (not by myself) complete with midnight bonfire dance circle (less creepy than it sounds, but still significantly creepy), and dinners and movies and smiles and butterflies, yada yada yada. ALSO, my parents graciously gifted me a new iHome to replace my old one because I taped it to the front of my bicycle and then left the whole musi-cycle-morph sitting in the bike rack during a torrential rain storm. So I obviously earned and deserved a new one. Responsibility yields results, my friends.

Anyway, here is evidence that everything I've told you is true:

(I took the liberty here of protecting the identity of the unnamed girl in the front seat. I took an additional liberty in protecting the identity of her double chin)

Your Sister in Christ,
Krizz 10 Reformation

Point Loma Fashion Week (Day)

2009-04-05T17:37:00.000-07:00

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Point Loma recently held its second annual Fashion Show. The cafeteria was transformed into a Bryant Park tent, complete with runway, and I was transformed into a crazy hunchbacked seamstress, complete with renegade threads stuck to the back of my neck. Sneaky strings of Hades. But after many hours bent over the sewing machine screaming "i hate you" at fabric, bobbins, and anyone that came around, I finally finished my line and the show went off without a hitch.

Most people who took part in the show borrowed clothing from boutiques and put together outfits. There were three of us, however, who actually designed and constructed our own lines. Mine had 6 pieces, which my friends/models worked on the runway. It was shockingly legitimate and there was even an after party with waiters carrying trays of smoothies (smoothies are the mark of legitimacy). Here's a backstage look into the glamourous lives of Manhattan's Elite (Gossip Girl reference which doesn't apply here):

And here is my line:

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Going Carless: Not only is it mandatory... it's chic and trendy.

2009-02-09T15:44:00.000-08:00

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The rumors are true. You can't have a car your freshman year (unless you are willing to get 5 parking tickets totaling $250 and then spend your weekends scraping gum and RVCA bumper stickers off of campus signs/seating while parking your green van in the neighborhood next to school and climbing a fence every time you want to access it.)... but who cares. It's a challenge and it's 'green' and there are plenty of better things to do with your time than drive to the myriad fantastic locations i mentioned in my previous post (sorry). Moral of the story? Pay your dues and shut up. Just kidding. Here are a few of the better things:

1. Make music videos with your mature college friends.
Here I give you a behind-the-scenes glimpse into Apartment 48A's upcoming Alanis Morissette Featurette (No pun intended. And what I mean by 'pun' is the fact that 'Morissette' rhymes with 'Featurette'... so really what I mean is 'No pun in the first place'). We are still in the production stages and have almost no valid footage, so I can assure you with absolute certaintly that the final product might be released within the next 48 months.

Note: This is without a doubt the worst video editing I have ever done. If you are a future employer and I listed this website on my resume, please turn a blind eye. Also (no matter who you are) please disregard "Kids Party!" at the beginning... I really couldn't tell you how that even happened...

2. Take secret video footage of aforementioned mature college friends doing dumb things and then become YouTube celebrity.
A little flat at the end, but other than that I can't complain

3. Ride your bike to faraway places.
A la exotic Downtown San Diego...

4. Um...

5. Climb the School Library

6. Do hood rat stuff
i.e. Write this: "Speaker Broken. Please Speak Very Loudly" on the back of an In-N-Out placemat and then use tape or gum to stick it on the ordering microphone. Hide in bushes and enjoy.

7. Form a band
More importantly, photoshop your Band Photos so you look more like rock stars who are too cool to be real. Or in Kelsey's case... so you look more like a samurai wearing a tuxedo.

8. And last but not least... Hang out with your friends. (smile and wink)

Until we meet again,
Sincerely,
and forever Yours,
Ref

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blah blah blah

2009-01-26T18:07:00.000-08:00

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(insert dumb joke re: a growth spurt, human stretching machine, or similar)

Anyway...

One great thing about PLNU is its proximity to everything. Disneyland is an hour and a half, Mexico is approx. 3o seconds (by jet), and SeaWorld is walking distance (I walked there once and it took over an hour, but still). So on Sunday Kelsey and I took a day trip up to LA to shop at a vintage/antiques flea market and get lunch and obsessively stare at anyone who looked like they could vaguely be John Stamos.

I can safely say we spent 40% of our day missing freeway junctions. And another 30% driving the wrong direction on the 805. 'South' and 'North' have very little in common, come to find out. And the rest of our time we dedicated to almost getting in huge car accidents and then cackle-laughing like Satan while simultaneously yelling at each other and then taking the blame for things the other one of us did. Kelsey barely escaped driving through someone's open car door (complete with car door owner) on Melrose Ave and then I apologized because I had been loosening my belt instead of preventing it. Then later I devised a clever plan to save time by switching lanes in the middle of an intersection, while turning left, without looking over my shoulder. I'll just say... you win some, yes, but you definitely lose some. Like in this case.

Here are some pictures from our outing:

We bought this antique mini table for 6 bucks. Then we carried it all over LA and even had lunch with it. "Table for 3 please"

Believe it or not, I was actually attempting to take a self-pic of myself, and then dropped the camera and ended up with this. Miracles are real.

8 seconds into the autotimer I panicked and last minutedly re-situated the table, strategically placing it directly on Kelsey's foot before assuming my adorable pose. If you could see her eyes you would see extreme rage.

Let's take a closer look...

hmm, roger that.

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a Second helping of Semester

2009-01-16T11:47:00.000-08:00

Sorry I just tricked you into thinking those 4 pictures are of/in San Diego. They're of a distinctly more Washingtony persuasion. Tracy and I visited our friends from Point Loma, Joe (boss) and Peter (a joke), in Seattle for 5 days over winter break (we get 3 weeks off) and it was ridicu-fun. But I'll save those tales for another day. Or for another never.

But for now the kids of Lomaland Drive have returned. School is back in session and this season of KFPL promises more drama than ever before. New chances at love, new secrets revealed, new cafeteria options, and hopefully new undercover pictures of Bob Brower/other faculty members. Stay tuned right here at whatever time I choose to post (central). Anyway.... having completed most of my general education requirements, I get to take mainly Fashion classes now. Fashion Design, History of Costume, Fashion Buying, Apparel in Human Behavior and Culture, and Textile Science. A schedule that any self-respecting man would die to not have. But I'm pretty excited about it.

Since we're still getting into the swing of things around here, I don't have too much to report YET. We are in a heat wave, though, I'll have you know. It's 82 degrees right now in the middle of January and therefore I'm going to the beach and I refuse to sit here with you for even one more second. However, here are a few videos to hold you over til next time:

Point Loma Fall 08: A Taste

Here we have a summary video of last semester, set to the only song my video editing program didn't reject (Weed Party by Band of Horses (dont do drugs though)). Livin the dream.

'Heart it Races' Music Video

There is very little to do in my hometown besides eat at different restaurants in quick succession, so Emily and I made a music video. We are not rookies at this. Two summers ago we debuted a professional-grade music video for Hanson's This Time Around on youtube, and let me just say that it was very well received. I don't want to brag, but we're undeniable internet celebreties. StarlaBubbles, if you're out there: we love you too.

Unfortunately two months ago Hanson got wind of this phenomenon and forceably took it off the internet by referencing a handy little scam they like to call "copyright infringement"... whatever. Moral of the story: We're back. Alternate ending: Bite me Isaac.

(song in the video: "Heart it Races"... its an Architecture in Helsinki song, covered by Dr. Dog)

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feliz navidad

2008-12-25T12:01:00.000-08:00

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Hello from Christmas morning! Well it's 1:30 pm... but its 5 o'clock somewhere, as they say. 5 o'clock AM (reh eh eh). I realize I haven't posted in a month, which, aside from being blatantly against my contract, is rude. I reported last post that my camera was fixed but I broke it again and I just couldn't motivate myself to post without any visual stimulation breaking up my typographical diatribe. I just googled "definition of diatribe" and that doesn't mean what I thought it did.

Anyway, I got a new camera for Christmas! ka ching. So expect great things in 2009.

Since lately I have given absolutely NO information about Point Loma or the lives of its students, take this picture as a consolation prize. I'm at my Grandma's house (again) and her computer is chock full of digital humiliation. I'll see you all when we return to school. And in the mean time, just trust me... Point Loma is great.

visiting grandma BY MYSELF in the summer of 04.
tip: dont step on the actual lane, its slicker than it looks.

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Happy Day Before Thanksgiving

2008-11-26T19:44:00.000-08:00

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Hello! I am writing to you from the road... I'm in the backseat of my parents' Honda mini-van (its an Odyssey... for you car enthusiasts) enroute to Phoenix where I will spend Thanksgiving Break with my Grandma and her minions. (Point Loma gives us Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off... GO WILD!!!) It's pouring rain and I'm eating a blizzard from Dairy Queen and poking my dog Sammie with a pen. She's lounging in a zebra fur bed in the middle of the car while I'm crammed in the back with her "Furrari by Dogloo" dog kennel. It takes up 2/3 of the seat, therefore I currently want to kill her. But c'est la vie.

We stopped at Jack in the Box 2 hours ago and I refused to order anything, instead choosing to sit on a stool scowling and spouting fake statistics about the merits of Healthy Eating. "A salad Dad... really? If you're going to eat it with ranch dressing you might as well eat 6 cheeseburgers"... so instead he got 2 breakfast burritos and 2 tacos. My brother Kevin also got tacos and offered up this choice piece of nausea: "Mmm, greasy. After I finish one it looks like I'm wearing lip gloss."

I forced my father to stop at Subway half an hour later so I could self-righteously order a Veggie Delight on wheat. Fast forward an hour and a half and I am fishing brownie bits out of my Chocolate Xtreme Blizzard. Such is the beauty of youth.

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Alright, so the moral of the story is this: I broke my camera. I didn't even do anything, I think it's just all of my past experiments finally catching up with it. This past weekend was Homecoming Weekend and I sat behind Bob Brower (the president of the university) at the game... two words: Oh. Yes. I got a lot of secret shots of him with Kelsey's camera, so I'll cover all of the Homecoming stuff when I get back.

In the mean time, here are several pictures that I took off of other people's facebooks:

Intramural Softball Team finale party at Fuddruckers. I wasn't exactly on the team per se... but it was great nonetheless. Notice the matching yellow turtlenecks: Jeff and Sean won those because they tied for Most Pent Up Rage

My great friend Tracy (ASB Director of Communications) and I were hanging around by the train tracks one Sunday (Stars: They're Just Like Us!). She has a fancy camera...

We had a picnic in Del Mar (a beach town just up the coast from Loma) and then went swimming in the ocean (in November! Apply Now!)... That night we went to the Marine Corps Ball. We weren't invited, but no one stopped us. I lost my keys and then we got to ride in the back seat of my car as the tow truck towed us back onto campus. A great day...

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More soon
love,
Ref

study abroad or you will have a horrible life

2008-11-12T15:57:00.000-08:00

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I'm vaguely exaggerating but you might as well just do it in case.

(note: there is a video in here somewhere, don't scroll too fast or you might miss it)

The Point Loma Study Abroad Office is my favorite location in the world. The school makes it so easy to facilitate the whole process so you really might as well go. I wish I had a statistic to reference here, but I know that A LOT of the PLNU student population spends at least 1 semester studying in a foreign country. Point to a random spot on the globe that is coincidentally sitting on your desk, and chances are Frank can find a way for you to go live there. Stop being cheeky and pointing at the Arctic Ocean, you little fiend. I spent last semester (the 2nd semester of my Sophomore year) living in Rome, Italy.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Except it was literally only the best of times and I associate absolutely nothing bad with it. I went by myself through AIFS and it was the best 5 months of my life. I made such good friends and ate such good food and I just generally had so much of the world at my fingertips. I saw more places and faces than anyone should even be allowed to.

the view from my bedroom window

I lived in an apartment with 3 girls in Trastevere (the non-touristy Roman neighborhood), which is entirely comprised of narrow cobblestone streets and alleys with old lady stockings hanging across them. My apartment was at the end of one such alley, through an iron gate, up the "Fern Gulley Steps" as we called them, and on the second floor of a yellow building with shutters. Every morning I threw open my bedroom shutters before walking to school through the morning market in the piazza and then across the bridge over the river. Wait I just started crying. Moral of the story is this: I got to know the Italian culture so well and I made Italian friends and I rode in Italian cars and I danced on Italian tables and I picked up smoking (no I didn't. Sorry that's not even funny, I'm not sure why I didn't just erase it. Too late.) and as corny and annoying as it sounds, the whole ordeal seriously changed my life. Confidence-wise, perspective-wise, and just generally happy-wise.

I went to Morocco during my spring break

For the first 3 weeks we lived in Florence in a 4 star hotel for Language Orientation. We built forts out of the hotel sheets and bonded late at night

Il Duomo in Florence

In Venice for Carnevale

Bulgaria

Austria

I made a mini movie with all the videos I took over the 5 months and hopefully that will paint a clearer picture of how it was than my offensive fake smoking references could. Don't judge me for the inordinate amount of time I spent on it... I got my wisdom teeth out over summer and had a Gopher Face for 2 weeks (unusual). This video was the fruit of my vanity-induced refusal to be seen by someone other than my mother, whose name is Hulda (also unusual).

Side tracked. Anyway, enjoy:

ABROAD: the "documentary"

Just to clarify a couple things.
1. Giuliano was fake drinking and driving. Also bad, but not as bad. In all seriousness though, that really wasn't alcohol so don't get any ideas people.
2. After my program ended, I met up with Kelsey and we spent 3 weeks backpacking through Eastern Europe, (which is unbelievably surreal, looking back, by the way. SO FUN). So a lot of the footage came from that, as well as weekend trips I took with friends I met in my program.
3. If you want to see it bigger or in better quality without it skipping around, search Kristen Refermat Abroad on youtube.

Well there you go.

Baci baci!
(P.S. that's the thing where you kiss each others cheeks upon greeting. One of my friends, Marcello, would always go in for the baci when I ran into him in Trastevere and I would always forget you're supposed to go right first and I would end up awkwardly brushing his cheek bone with my face or, worse, kissing him on the lips. Tip: go right)

ciao i miei amici,
Kristen

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a day in the life

2008-11-04T17:22:00.000-08:00

I fixed my computer. Julian from Dell did actually, but I helped. And by that I mean I opened the screen door to let him into my apartment.

I now give you Kristen's Life: A Taste

Monday at a Glance:

6:30 - alarm sounds, scowl and hit it with fist

7:35 - get woken up by Kelsey saying "don't you have work?" and then realize i turned off the alarm and scream Christian profanities like "dang it!" and "awww man!" for 5 minutes and then quietly proceed

7:57 - ride my bike to work at the Nicholson Commons info booth on campus. Here I write the weather and surf reports on the white board and sit behind a booth where I would typically answer people's questions and handle the lost and found. Today I only got one question though, and it was this: "One of the toilets in the mens room has a huge pile of toilet paper in it. You might want to call someone." That wasn't even a question. I also fell off my bike on the way to work when I tried to do the 'stand up while pedaling' trick on a steep hill. My shin is bleeding.

9:30 - Get off work and go to the Point Break Cafe for coffee (This is a to-go restaurant inside Nicholson Commons that sells Starbucks coffee, sandwiches, burgers and fries, smoothies, salads, and the infamous Salandwich... figure it out). Also they just added Caffeine Shots in test tubes. Sooooooo... there's that.

9:45 - CHAPEL. (You future students may be worried about this but it's seriously not bad at all. I actively like it. Here's how it works: You scan in using your ID card at the door, then there is worship led by one of a handful of student bands, then there's a mini message which is usually really good, then you talk to all your friends in the lobby and run into people you forgot about and say"Hey! Omg when are we going to hang out?!?!" in a really high voice and give them a side hug, then you scan back out. Cinchy AND fun.)

10:30 - After chapel everyone hangs out on Caf Lane until their next class (see previous entry for more on this). Earlier that day I took an eggplant out of one of the Caf's display cornucopias so we played football with it on Caf Lane. Someone (Amy) dropped it when she was going long and then someone else (Taylor) poked a hole in it with his finger so now I can't make Eggplant Parmesan. Perfect.

11:00 - Visual Presentation and Display Class. Normally I would go to this class and learn how to create displays to use in advertising but today I didn't particularly do that. I heard through the grapevine that Yelle was playing for free at UCSD at noon so a bunch of us skipped class and drove up the coast to La Jolla for the show. She is so French and cool I almost threw up. It became an electronica dance party and it was SO FUN so we finally squeezed to the front and I was slapping everyone in the face to make way for myself while simultaneously making extremely wild gestures in an effort to get the drummer to notice me. I have a video of my friend Max owning in the middle of the dance circle... I'll post it in the compilation video, but for now...... Here:

(that's me in the orange tiger shirt)

1:30 - Made it back just in time to run to the Caf (the cafeteria) for lunch (I had pizza) before Human Development Class. We watched a video of a live birth. Wait can I talk about that? I'd rather not. So anyway, adoption.

4:00 - Student Congress Meeting. I am the representative for Flex Building 47... which I don't actually even live in, but who's counting. A=B and B=C, therefore A=C. That couldn't have been less relevant if you paid me. Wait they do pay me... $100 bucks per semester, per representative.

Darrin, ASB Vice President, doing some light reading in his office

Anyway Student Congress is always fun and important-feeling. Last week one girl in my Financial Committee painted her face like a cat and I couldn't stop laughing.

Responsibilities? Check.
Then I typically do a bit of homework and then the fun begins.

That night in particular 4 of my friends and I went to Balboa Park because there is a huge Lion King tree where you can swing from vines. It's huge and gnarled and we climbed really high and talked for hours up in the branches. Then we went swimming and running in the huge fountain and kept tripping on the pipes and getting sprayed in the face by the spouts. So fun... but so freezing. Not to mention I went in with my electronic car key still clipped to my belt loop. Tight.

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fall's a ball

2008-10-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

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Whoa sorry I forgot to write anything for 2 weeks. I had midterms... 14 days in a row apparently...
But I'm back now and I'm promising Change.

Highlights of the last half month:

GRAND CANYON ROAD TRIP
The Thursday night after I last spoke with you we decided to go to the Grand Canyon for a night without sleeping. It was hands down the best 24 hours of my life... if you don't count the other times of my life that were better. But it was soooo fun. Kelsey/Christie/I picked up Robin and Melissa at 9:10 and we were off! ...but then we had to go back home because I forgot my phone and my shoes. BUT THEN at 9:26 we rolled off campus with a bag of chocolate almonds (Snack of Satan) and grapes and high spirits (feelings not drinks).

Here is what the 24 hours included:

Each of us driving until we fell asleep at the wheel, then rotating.
Me incessantly talking about the Date Farm that we would be passing and all the diverse foods they offered that were made out of dates. "Oh yeah, definitely, it's just a little bit farther..." It never even came. I've since looked it up and apparently there are multiple roads that lead into Arizona.
Face Blasting (heads out the sunroof at 90 mph (see photo))
Melissa waking up, asking me and Robin to turn off the air, falling back asleep, waking up 5 minutes later and saying "I hate to be the devil's advocate but could you turn the air on," and falling back asleep. She later recounted waking up, thinking that phrase made sense there, and then deciding to say it. That is completely the wrong usage of that phrase.
Many deep starlit life conversations and discussions regarding why we don't have boyfriends.
Arriving at the GC at 6:30, parking illegally, and sprinting to the lookout point because sunrise was set for 6:31. Barely made it... but it was so good.
Deliriously eating breakfast at a homey place and then taking a nap in nature. And by that I mean on a cliff next to the parking lot. We put down blankets and put some smooth jazz on my iHome. Every time I opened my eyes there was either a person taking a picture of us or there was a person (usually from Spain) lying down next to me. (see photo)
Me getting pulled over for driving over 100 mph. Wait that didn't even happen. Yes it did. No it didn't. Wait I forgot what we're talking about.

We hiked and looked at the canyon for awhile, hunted ridiculously intensely for Wolf Shirts at gift shops to no avail, ate pizza in town, watched the Williams High School Homecoming Parade, and then drove 8 hours back. It was very magical and adventurous and I loved it. We got back on campus at 9:26, exactly 1 day after we left.

we pulled over on the freeway

sunroof

left to right: Simon Cowell, me, Christie, Kelsey

FALL BREAK
This is a joke. Don't let 'them' trick you into thinking this is a break... it's just a Friday where they cancel the classes that I already don't have. But it's a great excuse to plan camping trips YA YA YA YA YA! We took a roommate trip to Cuyamaca and it was great. I am still an honarary girl scout, having graduated from the program after my senior year of high school, so I had lots of tips and tricks. One of these was "do not spray aerosol cans directly into flames" but I forgot to tell Kelsey so she tried to put Pam on the rooster pan when it was already in the fire. Summary: 10 foot inferno column. Her face was hilarious... partially because of the lack of eyebrows. But the pancakes did not stick so it was worth it. Loreal: Because You're Worth It. Wait that's not relevant here.

We did so much fun stuff... climbing trees, and hiking, and picking apples, and eating apples, and throwing apples in the lake because after you eat 12 you start hating them, and lying on picnic tables in the woods, and killing park rangers, and wearing plaid shirts. We made lots of food on the fire and tie dyed shirts in the pitch black dark and pooled our resources of sleeping bags to create UniBed (Christie and I were freezing all night because we got the edges... Kels I hope you enjoyed yourself)... then we watched Into The Wild in our tent. Well, the opening credits were viewed.

Halfway through our hike I ripped a huge 12 foot branch off a tree to use as a Gandalf Stick. Me and it looked so good together. Taylor had a similar one which actually wasnt cool at all and when she was hiking her stick got caught in a tree and she looked like a huge idiot. HA HA. I only fell once and I was last in line so I didnt even have to tell anyone. You would think the walking stick would've helped in a case like this, but it actually made it worse because it cut me. False Friend.

Apples

autotiming without telling anyone. mental music: walk like an egyptian

pier on the lake

on the hike. the definition of the phrase "amber waves of grain"... now i get it

using Gandalf Stick to knock apples out of the tree into a plaid shirt
(note: typically with sticks, the camera removes ten pounds. i swear it was more gnarled and intense than it looks here)

SAMEDI GRAS
This is the huge Halloween carnival festival situation that the school throws the Saturday before Halloween. There was a shockingly legitimate haunted house that they set up in the nursing building and there are tons of booths and games and food. At the end, Family Wagon (a Point Loma people band) played and we MOSHED SO HARD. There was crowd surfing at one point... on campus... APPLY NOW. Just kidding. But do it. Anyway I lost my phone. Then I found it on the ground and put it in my pocket. And then 15 minutes later the lead singer held it up and I had to do the walk of shame up there to retrieve it. I have no idea how it made its way to the stage, but I really need to invest in a chain for it.

Anyway Samedi Gras was so fun and not even lame. I should have taken more pictures of the event itself but here's what I've got. Tracy and I were Newsies. I've never even seen that movie but it seemed like a good idea.

Oh, this isn't Samedi Gras. That's us at Sushi Deli. This doesn't even belong here. I'm wearing that exact outfit right now though. I wore it at least once every day this weekend actually.

waldo, tigger, pirate, newsie, psychopath holding a cake who i dont even know

cuties

i think i see something of worth here.......

ohhhhhh yeahhhhh (slo mo really deep voice)

Family Wagon in the fog

SHOOT I just dropped my computer on the ground and busted it. I'm on Christie's computer right now because Blogspot auto-saves entries, but I practically threw it at the floor and now my screen is completely lime green and white and when I shake it it rattles. Hahahahha thats pretty funny I dropped it right after finishing my entry, such is the humor of the Lord. Except I may or may not be crying right now. Yeah so anyway.... uh, talk to you never.

Love,
Kristen (sob)
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not under construction

2008-10-13T22:15:00.000-07:00

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Good evening you little devils,
Where to begin. I'm at The Living Room (a cozy mismatchy coffee shop in an old 2-story house where lots of people study in yellow velvet armchairs, etc.) trying to "do work son" as they say. I came to read my Management book but I didn't bring my Management book so it's proving more difficult than I'd hoped. Therefore... an update:

Here's what I've been doing:

CLIFF JUMPING
On your way from Point Loma to Ocean Beach you will end up driving along Sunset Cliffs Blvd (unless you're a freshman......... HA HA). There are four little jut-outs where you can pull off the road and stand on the cliffs staring at the ocean... or park your car on the cliffs and use it as a place to eat your Chipotle burrito bowl alone because you were too embarrassed to sit inside at a table by yourself. Once again, that is not specific to me. I've heard people say that's what they use it for. But regardless, at high tide there is a perfect place to cliff jump. Park at the first jut-out you pass on your way into OB, climb over the guard rail, and dive bomb it.

Saturday morning after breakfast at the Old Townhouse, we spontaneously decided to do it (hence the clothes-wearing). IT'S SO FUN... but it ended with blood. Both Taylor and I wiped out climbing back up after our second jump and she gashed the heck out of her foot while I escaped with nothing but bruised pride and a stupid video of me saying "i fell" and sitting on the ground.

It's such a rush; you'd be surprised how long it feels like you're falling. Make sure the tide is high though... check it here. My freshman year I was ignorant enough to "jump first!" into approx. 2 feet of water. My toe almost cracked off.

DARE FORK
We started a new game in our apartment. It's called Dare Fork and it's pretty much the same as Truth or Dare but we only do dares and if you refuse to do one you have to pay 5 bucks. Whoever has The Fork (its plastic with "dare fork" written on it in blue sharpie) has the power to dare anyone to do anything. Kelsey had it first and dared me to wear a pregnant stomach the entire Friday night we spent downtown at dinner and shopping. We have a pillow the exact shape of a fetus so that dare was just begging to be dared.

Just to clarify, I realize this is the second entry in a row that I've both mentioned and posted a picture of me being pregnant. That is really weird. This is not a cry for help, nor is it a botched attempt at covering up my alleged pregnancy. If next week I post a picture of me wearing a "babydoll dress" and standing conveniently behind a brick wall, please report me.

PIRATE CAVE BONFIRE
This has been a dream of mine since I arrived at this school. The pirate cave is a huge cavern that isn't visible to the naked eye... unless you're looking at it... because in that case you can see it. What I mean is that it's hidden and involves either rock climbing or swimming to get to. I will not disclose the exact location of said cave because that can only be passed by word of mouth... but it IS on campus.

We built a fire in the cave and I brought my iHome and we danced to the music around the fire in the manner of pirates or gypsies. The week after Fall Break there will be another secret event in the cave which will be everything you've ever dreamed of... and more if I can swing it. Talk to me or comment if you want the secret details.

A BRIEF SHOUT OUT TO MY ACTUAL SCHOOLWORK
As you know, I am a Fashion Merchandising Major. One of the classes required of me is Visual Presentation and Display... this is basically Window Display Class. It's so fun: My most recent project was to design a 360 degree seasonal display for the product of my choice. My product was Starbucks Coffee and my season was Spring. Here is my final product:

coffee grounds as soil, starbucks straws as stems

Now here are a few featurettes I've been considering making a part of my repertoire. I have no idea if this is how you would use the word 'repertoire' in a sentence... Another word that falls into this category: Prerogative.

Lookalike of the Week:

Info Booth White Board Art Showcase
by:
rarely can a person of his build organically achieve that level of multiple chin without trying... props Silbs.

Picture of Christie Falling Asleep With Her Laptop Slicing Her Neck... of the Day
(there is no shortage of these)

Close Ups of People Who Have the Fullest Beard on Campus and Vaguely Look Like Jesus
(this will never not be Joe (my info booth boss and friend))

Sincerely,
KRIS-(480 - 470)

COMING SOON
Grand Canyon Road Trip
Another Video
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Caf Lane: The Fashion Experience

2008-10-08T23:51:00.001-07:00

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For those not well versed in the ways of Point Loma:

The 3 separate half hour periods of time between the end of chapel at 10:30 and the beginning of the 11:00 class slot collectively create the best hour.5 of every students' week (note: this is a generalization). The Nazarene boys and girls spill out of chapel and onto Caf Lane (a little brick pedestrian-only street that runs through the middle of campus by the cafeteria and the commons) where they mingle, soak up the sun, and sneakily look at each other's outfits and then snap their heads to attention when the person catches them looking. At least I think that's what everyone does... but that's not what I do. I've never done that, to clarify. Anyway, if you're ever planning on meeting your husband, ladies, this is where you're going to have to do it. And it is for that reason that the Loman men and women don their Monday Wednesday Friday Best and step out on the bricks to see and be seen. So please have a seat, or stay seated... since I know for a fact you're already sitting at a computer, and join me for some nonjudgmental fashion judgment.

Top, Left to Right:

Bri sports Ray Bans and a vintage cross-body bag.
Peter tries to give the illusion of wearing a V-neck... he was ignorant enough to wear a crew neck.
BT in a Flannel... (inside scoop: she told me in confidence that she wore that shirt 4 days in a row. BUSTED)
Joey wears lace ups and a V-neck, the default outfit of Loman men at large
Jen: "Don't take a picture of me" Thwarted.
Taylor and Jeff are one of the hot couples on campus. Notice the 3 fingers poking out from Taylor's arm. It's hard to see, but they are in fact embracing.

Bottom, Left to Right:

My roommate Kelsey in a vest which, contrary to public opinion, does not belong to me. I wear it more than she does. Lookin good Kels.
Chris looking sunny in a mank top. (man tank top)
Tracy and a pregnant me (wait that is seriously impressive... I hadnt even eaten yet). Tracy wanted me to tell everyone that she is currently "single and ready to mingle, and looking for someone to hold her tighter than her high waisted shorts."
Garreth sports a V-neck, oxford shoes, and hair.
BT changes midway through the half hour and emerges in a glamorous Aerobics ensemble
Emmaline with skinny jeans and cool shades. If only her shirt was black... it would like she was wearing a jumpsuit.

I'll be back tonight or tomorrow with a less superficial entry.
We're driving to the Grand Canyon tonight so wish me luck in the infinite abyss.

Yours Truly,
Kristen
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the beat goes on...

2008-10-02T22:42:00.000-07:00

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Hello. It's 11:11... make a wish. I typed this up earlier this afternoon and then saved it so i could post it during The Wishing Hour for your benefit.... then I forgot and now it's technically 11:57. But you're welcome.

my wish: **** *******

HIGHLIGHT OF THE WEEK

I got a car today! It's a silver Mazda and has two cigarette lighters and velour seats... every girl's dream. My old car was a Nissan Sentra with a jammed cd player and the handle of the back door cracked off. The alarm was broken, too, so whenever you pushed the Lock button twice, it would go off indefinitely. Christie would always secretly push it when I was driving with the music loud and I would never hear the alarm blaring until about 4 minutes worth of offensive looks from pedestrians registered. Moral of the story, The Maz is an upgrade.

(enroute to pick up the new car)
Me: Dad, Grandma keeps forwarding me emails about Obama being the Antichrist. Make her stop.
Dad: Obama is not the Antichrist. If anything he is the second coming of the Antichrist.
Me: What? The Antichrist hasn't come yet.
Dad: Then please explain to me Howard Stern.

Alright so here are a few things I did this week that you should do too should you decide to attend Point Loma Nazarene University:

KITE FLYING IN BALBOA PARK
Balboa Park is huge and gorgeous and there are loads of things to do there. Examples: crash weddings, go to one of the many museums (every Tuesday there's free entrance to a handful of them; they change each week), acquire athlete's foot by getting in the fountains, walk through the botanical gardens, watch magicians and musicians and armless people play guitar with their feet. Quite a feat. The activity of choice this week was Kite Flying, with a side order of swinging and grass sitting.

And so it happened that Jen, Jamie, Joe, Joe's friend whose name I can't remember but I think was either Travis Derek or Dexter, and I headed out to a tree-free zone and began running the kite. It got up a few times but the winds were not in our favor so instead Joe took a swing away from a baby.

MIDNIGHT BIRTHDAY PARTIES IN SECRET HIDEOUTS
One of my greatest friends, Kelsey Masters (not my roommmate Kelsey), turned 21 the day before yesterday so we celebrated. We blindfolded her at 11:59 with Christie's hideous "better sleep eye mask" and brought her to our secret hideout. We had sparkling cider in plastic champagne glasses, but I stepped on 2 of them before Kelsey even got there so we had to share. (Just in case you aren't familiar with the Point Loma Covenent, there is a strict no-drinking policy, both on campus and off. Just say no.) We also stuck candles in a brownie we bought at Vons... Wait what, I mean one we baked... but right in the middle of the ceremony an RA found us and busted us for being a fire hazard. She was extremely nice about it, though. Anyway then I ran inside and grabbed a lamp and that was almost the same as candlelight. Except for considerably less candle-like and quite a bit more lamp-like.

It was exactly like the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, though, because we all bonded by lamp light and lounged on pillows and had a huge dance party with my mini boom box. It was so fun and friendshippy. View:

things get ugly. suitcase to the spine

SWIMMING AT HOTEL POOLS (WITH PERMISSION)
Sometimes if you ask the security guards at hotels on Shelter Island (a strip of land very close to Point Loma that has lots of hotels and is surrounded by water. This is also a common location for bonfires), they will let you use their swimming pools and hot tubs. We played pool games, namely Spider and Race. Spider is very complex, but it chiefly involves swimming under your opponent's legs into the corner of the pool without brushing up against him or her. Race involves swimming quickly in an attempt to get to the other side of the pool first... I am told this game is fairly standard.

Good times were had by all and we finished off the evening at Taco Tuesday. $1.25 fish tacos at Rubios every Tuesday. In the olden days they were only 1.00 flat, but times have changed. I blame the economy. Unrelatedly, the economy is also responsible for the alleged 12% I received on my Christian Tradition test (stand by for confirmation of that).

Swimming at Kona Kai

Sunset at Kona Kai

That's all for now folks, but please stay tuned. Until next time,

Kris-10

coming soon
Post-Chapel Caf Lane Fashion Report

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a lesson in galavanting

2008-09-27T11:35:00.000-07:00

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Sup. Sorry I didn't post from the booth, i got distracted by all of the nothing i was doing. Better luck next time. It's Saturday afternoon here and the weekend is rolling along greatly. Heeeere's the recap!

I have no class on Fridays so the party starts Thursday for me. (For those of you unsure of how the class selection process works: First semester of your freshman year you are assigned classes by your advisor, but for the rest of college you choose your own courses online. Don't like waking up early? Sign up for afternoon classes. Don't like going to class, period? Don't sign up for classes. Cinchy.) So on Thursday after school Christie and I went on a scootering trip down to The Cliffs to go swimming. My foot almost burned off from the heat of the brakes, so that felt really good. We stuck the camera in my shirt with the lens poking out the top to get awesome speed shots going down the hill but all we captured was the underside of my chin. Then we started putting the camera on cars and that worked until it fell off one and I got scared and stopped. Over summer I made my camera into an underwater camera by putting it in 2 ziploc bags with scotch tape and then took it in the pool. It didn't work for 3 days after. Now I am cautious. Anyway though, after scootering we were dying of thirst so we took the on campus shuttle back up the hill and then went to Chili's to get bottomless strawberry lemonades. We sat at the bar and pounded them, one after another, slamming our fists on the bar each time we needed a refill. It's unlimited, so you pretty much have to do that. I made a video of our trip plus some other stuff from this year so far. Bon appetit:

(song: The Devil Never Sleeps, by Iron & Wine)

Other things you may have seen in the video: Super Hero Bowling, a game of Around the World played at the basketball hoop in front of my apartment, garage sale cabinet loading.

Friday
I went thrift store shopping with Kelsey and got lots of treasures: old leather belt, frying pan with a rooster on it, dictionary, moroccan table cloth, and i almost got a toaster that prints Mickey on your toast but it was 7.99 and that is a rip. Oh and I got a photo album to put my Europe pictures in, but there were already pictures in it from the previous owners. I call them Debra and Jonathon and they apparently had a fantastic trip to Washington DC. Here is their best photo, in my opinion:

Nice jelly bean hat Jonny

That night a group of 12 of us went to Critical Mass. The last Friday of every month, thousands of people meet at the fountain in Balboa Park and then mob the streets on bikes. It is nuts, there is no set path... whoever's in the front of the mass chooses where to turn and the whole pack follows. Cars have to dive out of the way and we go through red lights and scream stuff and just generally take over. It is seriously awesome, it feels like you're part of some huge movement and you end up in like every part of San Diego at some point. I didn't bring my camera but here's a picture of a past Critical Mass. But imagine way way way more people. And while you're at it, imagine me doing a flip off a ramp.

About 2 hours into the ride I was lagging, man. Then some stupid idiot wearing shants (shorts pants combo) and a Fubu shirt hit me with his mini bike and I crashed. I skidded on the ground on my shoulder and got grease all over my shoes and body. Fashion Tip: don't do that. If anyone had seen it they would have been crying. Luckily I was pretty much at the very end by this point so no one saw. But the downside of that is that no one was there in general. Therefore I lost the path AND my friends and I didnt have a phone hahahha I've been in better situations actually. Juan from Walgreens let me use his cell phone to call my mom... to get Kelseys phone number... so she could call a different Kelsey... so that Kelsey could call my friend Taylor to tell him I crashed so they wouldn't be looking for me. While I was on the phone, a girl with short hair came in and Juan called her Sir. Poor Juan, it could happen to anyone. My chain was all out of whack so my roommates came all the way to North Park to pick me up in a car since they hadn't come on the ride. Bless their hearts. I chatted amicably with Juan while I waited for them on a handicap go cart and he gave me a water bottle and a paper towel so I could try to make myself look less like a sweaty girl with a tomato for a head. Juan will be in my wedding.

Despite the loser ending to the night, Critical Mass was SO fun and I'm definitely doing it again. GO BIG OR GO HOME. or in this case, fall off your bike and go home.

This morning Kels and I woke up at 6:30 (we like to do this) to go to breakfast in Ocean Beach. We got there right when The Old Townhouse opened at 7:00... an accomplishment. It is my favorite breakfast place (located on Newport Avenue in OB... look for a blue and white sign that says Restaurant) because there are plenty of old men wearing red suspenders and trucker hats, and they have kook waitresses who make airplane noises when they refill your coffee. Plus it used to be cheap, but the nostalgia seals the deal. Many cups of coffee and two veggie omelets with toast later, we set off on the early riser's Garage Sale Circuit. We got a cabinet for 5 bucks and we are going to paint it purple and use it to start a furniture refurbishment business. (Fast forward 3 months... its still sitting in the courtyard). On an unrelated note, I forgot to take off my pajama shorts when I put on my dress this morning and have been wearing them all day. It is the second day in a row that I've done that, which I think is noteworthy.

Here are some pictures from this morning:

Anyway, I wish you luck in your endeavors this weekend!

Until we meet again,
Kristen

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and so it continues

2008-09-24T18:42:00.001-07:00

Hi again. With the pressure of The First Entry lifted, I feel comfortable enough to speak with you freely. I'm Kristen and I'm a junior in the Fashion Merchandising program at Point Loma. I'll take this opportunity to make myself look legitimate. Here are a few things you should know:

I grew up in Rancho Bernardo (30 minutes away from Point Loma) where I played the baritone in the high school marching band and went camping with my Girl Scout troop (TROOP 8113 REPRESENT) until I graduated.
I know for a fact that Harry Potter isn't in any way connected to Satan and neither is Ron. Snape I won't vouch for, but I wish him the best.
I spent last semester studying abroad in Rome and it changed my life. I wasn't actually very cool before I left and now I completely am. Living in another country increased my legitimacy by at least 50%. I'll devote a blog to my Italian life one of these days so you can see what I mean.
I love adventures and I love life. My aunt gave me a journal with the lyrics to "I Hope You Dance" (the hit single by the renowned Leeann Womack) written inside and, although the tune of the song makes me actively nauseous, they are the words I live by. I always scream them at people when they're lying in bed or on the couch (or similar) and I'm trying to force them into doing something they don't want to do. "Seize the Day" would also work.
I am a direct descendant of Pocahontas. (the term 'direct' is used loosely here, but i am related)
I go to the best school on the planet. Point Loma is exactly like The O.C. except with all the trashy drunk nasty people cut out. So basically take the opening credits of that show and it looks like Point Loma. What I'm trying to say is that we're next to the ocean. More like on it. Practically in it.

I have a lot to say and I'm anxious to start saying it. This blog is not going to simply be a log of my grueling exam schedule and the daily Caf offerings (although the return of Pita Day will definitely make the cut, should that day arrive)... I have big plans for the semester. Dangerous plans. "You're only young once, but you can be immature forever"... just keep that in mind.

On Friday I work the Info Booth, which is a little desk inside Nicholson Commons where I sit and answer people's questions while "providing a sunny presence" as my boss Joe says. I get an average of 1 question per day and besides that my main responsibility is to write the weather report on the white board. I'll try to drop in and shoot the breeze with you from there since I'll probably (read: definitely) have some time on my hands. Until then...

Your new friend,
Kristen

P.S.
Here are a few pictures to give you a feel for things around here.

my roommate christie (left) and i autotiming ourselves on The Cliffs

Super Hero Bowling... school hosts this and its realllly fun. we're Rosie the Riveters (Rosies the Riveter... um...) and that's Michael Phelps on the right. green shirt is anyone's guess...

friends at Mission Beach. (i'm 3rd from the right, selfishly elbow blocking christie)

the nightly drive to Fiji Yogurt. my window is down...

my other roommate kelsey and i paint our kitchen table

midnight kickball on the soccer field

the funniest thing ive ever seen in my life

The Greek, our on-campus amphitheater

a view of my apartment. note the anti-lamp on the side table... its been so long now that we're deliberately refusing to put a bulb in it.

mustache TV. close but nope

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and so it begins

2008-09-24T18:32:00.000-07:00

HELLO WORLD.

with love,
Kristen