Utah or Bust...

... or alternate title, Even Hanes Can't Put the Comfort in My Comfort Zone

So, I told you about my big trip to Utah this fall, yes? I know I have because, counting you, I've told everyone I know about it at least three times. (I'm going to Utah in the fall, in case you hadn't heard.) It's an entire week of photography, desert hiking, fall foliage spotting, river traversing, and merriment. 

Or, so the brochure says.

What my eyes are reading and what my mind is comprehending are two different things. In fact, I have all but talked myself out of going. 

Because, what I haven't told you about is the weekend away I had earlier this month. It was just me, my camera, and ten other people. For 36 hours. With other people. At least seven of those hours were in a van. With other people. And, four meals. With other people. 

Are you seeing where I'm going with this? 

Apparently, I've grown out of the habit of other people. And by other people, I mean, people who aren't my tried and true besties who love me despite all my quirks and quietness. Other people require interaction and attention. Apparently.

Which begs the question, when did people start talking so much? Do you win an extra large cloud in heaven if you comment on everything you see and think and feel at every given moment? Is this something other people are striving for? If so, count me out. Just give me my extra-small cotton ball of a cloud, preferably located somewhere away from the Talky McTalkersons, and leave me be. And, Get off my lawn!, while I'm channeling the grumpy old man who lives two blocks over.

Honestly, the other people couldn't have been nicer or friendlier. They did absolutely nothing wrong (running commentary aside). I was just uncomfortable the entire time because I'm out of the habit of small talk and not having control of my own schedule and apparently, being pleasant on demand. I tried remembering all my zen-yoga-meditation techniques but I resorted to just screwing my eyes tight shut and going to my happy place, where happy place equals imagining myself on my quiet and peaceful sofa. That has room for both my legs. 

Do NOT get me started on the lack of leg room in the back of a 12 passenger van when you're 5'10" and a good deal of that is legs. I'm just now starting to calm down about it. My hip, however, is still having fits. My chiropractor is making out like a bandit from this. 

Anyway, I got home from that trip (which was a lovely trip and I'd do it again tomorrow) (without the face-plants my camera and I did on the dunes) (and without the misty rain) (and with more space in the back seat, ahem) and I got really nervous about Utah. 

In 36 hours of being away, I probably talked myself down off the ledge eight times. How on earth would I last six days? In yet another 12 passenger van? WITH OTHER PEOPLE? 

But, then I thought, you know what? I need to make painful small talk with strangers. I need to get in the habit of being pleasant and living by someone else's schedule and doing what the group wants, instead of having my own way all the time. I need to get back in the habit of other people. 

My comfort zone has shrunk to the size of a fitted tee and it's time I outgrow it. 

But, please, for the love of Pete, let there be leg room.

Six Months

I can't believe it but yesterday was my six month anniversary of becoming vegan. Does it seem like to you that a half year has gone by already? How quickly life moves. 

I've not written much about being vegan lately and I think it's because I'm not thinking about it as much any more. Once I changed my wardrobe and found my favorite vegan foods, I found it doesn't need a lot of thought. It feels like I've always lived this way so I'm comfortable in it now.

The only time I really get snapped back into "Oh yeah, I'm vegan" thinking is when someone else comes into the picture. It can be tough at work where the culture is to celebrate with baked goods and lunches out and I choose not to partake. I don't want to be seen as anti-social, but at the same time, I don't think my job should impose on my chosen lifestyle. So those situations can be tricky. Thankfully, I have a few close friends who know and understand my decision and are happy to eat at vegan-friendly places with me. 

The one thing I am a little concerned about is the travel I have planned this year. I'm heading off for two weekends away in the next couple of months and a week in Utah in the fall and I don't have a say in where we're staying or eating and we are going to non-urban areas where it's probably difficult to find vegetarian food, let alone vegan. At least the weekends away are car trips and I can pack some snacks to take, I'm sure. The trip to Utah has me a little flummoxed. I'm hoping we will at least pass a market on the way to the desert and I can snag some nuts and fruit or something. 

The rest of the time, though, this has been an incredibly easy transition to make. I'm surprised to say that but it's true. Maybe having already been vegetarian for four years before helped. Or maybe the fact that I feel good every day, have more energy, sleep better, and can't remember the last time I had a really bad day makes it all feel worth it. Whatever it is, I'm in a better place today than I was six months and one day ago. If I have to give up a few work lunches or pack fewer clothes to make room for some almonds and apples, it's still all been worth it. 

Indulge Me

Where is the one place in the world you would love to visit, if money, time, civil unrest or spiders as big as dinner plates weren't an issue?

Where is one place you have visited (or lived) that was so unappealing you would have to be paid a significant sum to revisit?

Which country or region of the country (tell us your country, if not the U.S.) have you found the most friendly, warm and welcoming people? 

If you had to spend the rest of your life in only one location anywhere in the world, where would it be? Your family, friends, employers, favorite hair stylist, etc. could move along with you, if that makes it easier. 

Your responses are greatly anticipated and appreciated.  :) 

Life Goals Achieved

These have always been life goals of mine:

• Visit Maine
• Touch the Atlantic Ocean
• See the spectacular leaves-changing-color display in the northeast

Well, two out of three isn't bad.



On Thursday, I flew to Maine and on Saturday, I stuck my hand in the Atlantic. The trees must have missed the memo that I would be visiting but they were still beautiful, if yet too green.



Four days in Maine is not nearly enough for a lifetime but it was a good start. What little I saw of the state (from Portland to Boothbay on Route 1) was amazing and I can't wait to return and explore more of it. I saw lighthouses, coastline, boats of all descriptions, butterflies, brides, a human-sized lobster and Frank Santorelli from The Sopranos. What more could you ask of a weekend?



The best part was meeting Mary, my long-time online friend and confidant and a frequent commenter here. She graciously put up with me, my vegetarianism, and my raging allergies and actually seemed to have fun doing it. That's a true friend for you.







More photos from Maine can be found on my Flickr page.

The Beat of the Heart

Cities feel like beings to me, with pulses and emotions and the ability to provide comfort. The diversity of people, the economy, historical, civic and cultural events, and the prevalence of tourism all combine to give a city its heartbeat, its energy. Of course, the stronger those elements are, the stronger the beat. 

Chicago is probably my favorite city in the world. I only say 'probably' because I have not yet been to them all and it is possible that another may win my heart someday. But for today, Chicago is my favorite. I have always loved the energy I feel in Chicago. It is not an overwhelming, chaotic, frenzied type of energy that I assume larger cities like New York or Los Angeles may have (at least in areas) but more of a brisk yet purposeful, relaxed yet steady beat that keeps me motivated and positive.

I am heading up there again in a few weeks for an extended stay at my favorite hotel, in one of my favorite locations, and I intend to do all my favorite things. I also expect to spend hours working on my novel in a funky coffee shop, watching the colorful people pass by. I am looking forward to this visit with my dear friend. I have been gone far too long. 

Which is your favorite city? I am always looking for new places to visit, where would you have me travel?

My Trip to the UK

The Firsts 

• Flying Alone I managed to maneuver my way through four airports, four security checks and one customs stop on the way over and four airports (one was different this time), four security checks, one customs stop, and two baggage claims on the way back. I even threw in an extra country visit on the way home, too. And you know what? I did it. I had to rely on the kindness of strangers from time to time (the custodian who guided me through the mess that is Newark's airport, the woman who saved me a seat in the crowded waiting area while I ran to the bathroom in Chicago's O'Hare, and the airport security guard who translated for me in Amsterdam) but I did it. The amount of stress in traveling alone can be incredible but the feeling of independence and self-satisfaction is also.
• Leaving the Country I had never been outside the U.S. before this trip, not even to Mexico, which is practically the U.S.'s community pool. I was excited to see the UK before I left and if anything, even more delighted when I got there. The architecture and the countryside and the traffic and culture and the people... it was a feast for my senses. I wanted to look and touch and hear everything. We packed a lot into our week but I still left craving more.
• Foods  A potato is just a potato, right? No. Real English chips are a treat unlike anything you can find in the U.S. I was also treated to a proper English cream tea (scones with butter, jam and clotted cream! served with amazing tea), sticky toffee pudding with custard and a Cornish pasty... but not in the same day, of course. I loved the local specialities and I loved the traditions behind them.

The History

• Specifically We toured Westminster Cathedral, Bristol Cathedral, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Tower of London, the SS Great Britain, the Roman ruins, and the home of William Shakespeare. We saw Parliament, the River Thames and Big Ben. All of them were impressive, awesome, humbling.
• Generally But even more striking to me was the overwhelming feeling of permanence and solidity and grandeur that is amassed by a country that has been around for so many hundreds of years. To walk on cobblestone streets that Shakespeare had once trod or to stand in the shell of what remains of a bunker that once housed ancient Roman soldiers, you cannot put into words the feeling that overcomes you. Only in England could I actually see the interwoven human chain of all the generations that have come before and all those that will follow. It made me realize just how fleeting our time here is and yet how vitally important that we use it to the best of our abilities.

The Highlights

• Shakespeare Seeing Shakespeare performed in an English theatre by English actors was one of the best nights I have ever had. I am sure I have never been better entertained. It was a magnificent time. 
• Cary Grant  I was able to see and hug the bronze, life-sized statue of Cary Grant in Millennium Park in Bristol. I know he was just a man, just an actor, but I still have an enormous amount of respect and love for his talent and his kind heart. His films have become friends to me and it meant so much to pay even that small tribute to him. I am still trembling inside.
• Weather We always think of England of being under a perpetual rain cloud but the weather was beautiful that week. It drizzled only a few minutes on Wednesday and then rained most of the day on the Saturday before I left but other than that, it was perfect. The temperature was mild, the skies blue, and the breezes moderate. We were able to hike through the Cotswolds and Wales and around London and Bristol without a problem. I am so thankful.
• Rugby And speaking of rain on Saturday, it did not matter a bit because we had an entire day of rugby to watch! I cannot believe how hard I fell for this sport but I did. The Six Nations tournament was just winding up my last weekend there so I was able to see all six teams in action and I loved every minute. An unexpected joy, to be sure.

There are dozens of other aspects of the trip and many, many more things that we saw and toured and experienced but I will leave those tucked away in my memory as my own special treasures. I had debated even writing this post, given that it has been two and a half weeks since I returned home, but I wanted to reflect on a few of the feelings I had that week so I could always come back here and relive them. Overall, I want to remember the feeling of comfort I had while there. I am sure I have not felt more at ease or more at home in a new environment ever before. It felt as though the city of Bristol, and the country itself, embraced me.

I cannot wait to return. 

My English Dreams Come True

On the list of things to do on my upcoming trip to England is hug Cary Grant. (I do not know the woman in that photo but I envy her a bit.) I may even kiss him on the cheek. Both cheeks, even. A life-sized statue of Cary Grant! I may just melt on the spot. I will become the dark stain on the concrete at his feet that people will walk around because they are not quite sure what it is. I shall have them place a little placard next to me, that reads: "Here is what remains of Cary Grant's most ardent admirer. Now, please take your leave as she wants to be alone with him. --Signed, The Queen" (Or Dame Judi Dench or Sir Elton John or whoever is in charge over there these days.) 

I think Cary Grant was my first real love. Well, it was either him or Davy Jones of The Monkees but I think it was the former. He has certainly stayed in my heart longer. (This was well before my Shaun Cassidy/Leif Garrett/Willie Aames pre-teen phase. Thank goodness, that was relatively short-lived.) I would still give Davy Jones a hug if I met him on the street, but I would not plan to visit his statue, which is apparently the sign of true devotion. Oh, good grief, how have I never realized my first loves were both English? That is something, is it not? 

Many other things are planned during my stay, including a night of Shakespeare, performed by actual English people (Be still my heart!), but I think 'meeting' Cary Grant is going to be one of the top two highlights. Seeing my other favorite Englishman will be the other. I may even kiss him on the cheek. Both cheeks, even.

Sorry, Davy Jones. Maybe next trip.