Saturday, May 16, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Video Treats
Looking through some recent home vids, I found this one of little Autumn and Bek. Enjoy
Friday, April 25, 2008
Bits and Bobs
I went looking back through my blog here and realized, there's not one picture of Beck. So before you go doubting her existence, here are a few photos of my lovely bride.
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That bottle holding trick is really quite handy. Although, long moments of concentration will end sometime with a sudden, wild flaling of her arms, as if she only just realizes what she's doing. Yet, often she'll manage to hold on and relocate the nipple. She'll stare at it briefly and casually go back to eating. Amazing.
Here are a few shots from around our little corner of Daegu.
Autumn deep in concentration. 
Spent April 5th in Seoul with a fantastic group of riders. These boys are fast flying Filthies. Was a great day and I can't wait to do it again. Here are a few photos. Enjoy.
No better way to start the day than with 2 litre bottles of Hite (Korean for Budweiser).
How brief the sensation of flying. Good thing Kevin's quick with the camera.
No one would do this, so I gave a demonstration to loosen up first drop anxieties.
Rock garden 101: Don't crash!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
I'm Back
Well, almost. I'll be crutching around for a few weeks while my newly opened leg heals up. The surgery was a fantastic success. Started out with a local anesthetic, allowing me to get a real feel for what was going on inside my leg. Literally, I could feel the pounding on the bolts as they drove them from the bone and the stitching up had a certain tingle to it. I wanted to watch but they wouldn't allow it. I think I lost a little too much blood and started shivering violently. Unbeknownst to me, they gave me general and, next thing I know I'm laying in my ward room, facing up, staring into a 4' florecent light. Fortunately, this doctor was on top of his game and noticed that my vastus lateralis muscle, the one on the front, above the knee on the outside, had been severed and needed to be put back together. So now, I should be able to recover to a full 100%. I thought I was just up shit creek, and would have to suffer the next bit of history with limited leg function. But, not so, not so.
Once this leg finishes healing, I’ll be hitting the gym and the mountain hard. I can’t wait to get back up to full speed. Mountain Rehab 101.
Once this leg finishes healing, I’ll be hitting the gym and the mountain hard. I can’t wait to get back up to full speed. Mountain Rehab 101.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Friday, October 05, 2007
Update '07
Recently, my wife and I –to be explained later in this post- took a couple of days and drove north along the Korean east coast. This peaceful two day holiday, took us past many familiar places previously seen blurringly from behind handlebars. One of which being the fateful location for which the last two, very dated post are dedicated.
Having not seen that spot since being whisked away in an embarrassingly under-equipped “ambulance” (van with flashing light atop; cot and bottle of oxygen rounding out the interior contents), I was quite surprised at my lack of emotional response. Shock and Horror were nowhere. A smile, not chattering teeth parted my lips. But what did remain of that day, beside emotion and memory, after nearly a year and a half, the front fender of my late motorcycle was there lying, moss covered, in the ditch. "I landed just beyond there..." I said to Bek pointing out to the spot while she worked on setting up a seed to be spat. I looked out; It seemed the distances were smaller. The tree was closer to the intersection. The spot I imagine crashing into was full of green. Maybe that's why everything looked smaller. The trees and vines were now swollen with the seasons rains and sun. I felt like putting up a sign, "Here doesn't lie..."
Having not seen that spot since being whisked away in an embarrassingly under-equipped “ambulance” (van with flashing light atop; cot and bottle of oxygen rounding out the interior contents), I was quite surprised at my lack of emotional response. Shock and Horror were nowhere. A smile, not chattering teeth parted my lips. But what did remain of that day, beside emotion and memory, after nearly a year and a half, the front fender of my late motorcycle was there lying, moss covered, in the ditch. "I landed just beyond there..." I said to Bek pointing out to the spot while she worked on setting up a seed to be spat. I looked out; It seemed the distances were smaller. The tree was closer to the intersection. The spot I imagine crashing into was full of green. Maybe that's why everything looked smaller. The trees and vines were now swollen with the seasons rains and sun. I felt like putting up a sign, "Here doesn't lie..."
My first real attempt at flying. MAN ALIVE, how lucky I was that day.
At the time of the accident, Spring was peaking around the corner, but not yet was a single leaf or fruit to be seen. The ripeness of the vine and the grape clusters filling stacks of road side boxes compelled Bek and I to buy ourselves a crate. From the same farmer in who’s field I landed, no less. With the box between us, the sun lit the mid morning road from behind as we traveled west. We ate grapes for the next 50 miles.
The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. Driving along the coast here in Korea is not at all like the states. The speed limit ranges from 30-50kph and I think there must be a coastal town competition to see who can put in the most speed bumps. Not that I blame them. I’ve been told Korea ranks no.1 for fatal auto accidents (I could not find any stats). This seems plausible. Try going only 10k over the speed limit and you’ll find a steady line of charging SUV’s ready to run you off the road. Not in much of a hurry, and thinking often of the little package swimming in the womb of my 7 month pregnant wife, I got used to pulling to the side of the road, letting the worlds worst drivers pass on by.
Highlights of the trip:
King crab
Waking up for the sunrise
Finding the sweetest, curviest, 200k long mountain road that I will soon carve on my Kawasaki.
At the time of the accident, Spring was peaking around the corner, but not yet was a single leaf or fruit to be seen. The ripeness of the vine and the grape clusters filling stacks of road side boxes compelled Bek and I to buy ourselves a crate. From the same farmer in who’s field I landed, no less. With the box between us, the sun lit the mid morning road from behind as we traveled west. We ate grapes for the next 50 miles.
The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. Driving along the coast here in Korea is not at all like the states. The speed limit ranges from 30-50kph and I think there must be a coastal town competition to see who can put in the most speed bumps. Not that I blame them. I’ve been told Korea ranks no.1 for fatal auto accidents (I could not find any stats). This seems plausible. Try going only 10k over the speed limit and you’ll find a steady line of charging SUV’s ready to run you off the road. Not in much of a hurry, and thinking often of the little package swimming in the womb of my 7 month pregnant wife, I got used to pulling to the side of the road, letting the worlds worst drivers pass on by.
Highlights of the trip:
King crab
Waking up for the sunrise
Finding the sweetest, curviest, 200k long mountain road that I will soon carve on my Kawasaki.
Monday, May 15, 2006
I've been waiting for the inspiration to write something on this blog. Doesn't look like it's going to come so, I'll just write anyways.
The last two months have been hard in many ways. Not walking is the biggest followed ever too closely with losing my bike, staying in the hospital for a month and becoming even poorer than I was before the accident. However, as with most things, there is light at the end of the tunnel.
I'm about a week from walking. Baring any unexpected results on my next check up, I should be caning myself around until the strength returns to this Frankinsteined appendage. To help that along, I'm joining a gym where I'll work out with an Aussi buddy of mine as well as helping him with soccer class every Satuday. Strength and flexibility here I come.
Work is good and the hours just keep growing. So at least there's a little money coming in from my end.
Here's a few pictures to lose your lunch on...
The last two months have been hard in many ways. Not walking is the biggest followed ever too closely with losing my bike, staying in the hospital for a month and becoming even poorer than I was before the accident. However, as with most things, there is light at the end of the tunnel.
I'm about a week from walking. Baring any unexpected results on my next check up, I should be caning myself around until the strength returns to this Frankinsteined appendage. To help that along, I'm joining a gym where I'll work out with an Aussi buddy of mine as well as helping him with soccer class every Satuday. Strength and flexibility here I come.
Work is good and the hours just keep growing. So at least there's a little money coming in from my end.
Here's a few pictures to lose your lunch on...
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Anyone out there listening to the news? Brandon, you're the only one who reads this, can you see any way Bush won't be Impeached? He still has two full years. Plenty of time to insult both parties into action. This blog was never intended for politicking, but damn, I got say something. Not much good has come in the last 5 years, though I was stunned by John Roberts when I watched the last day of the Senate confirmation hearings. Not one note, not one lean in to confirm with an aide; direct immediate responses to every question for, what, five days. Most impressive. All to easy did he make it look.
But nearly everything else, terror aside (at least upon our borders), he's botched. I feel I'm preaching to the quire, since I imagine you share this opinion. I feel it more outside of The US just through association. I've never not claimed I was an American, but the reaction differs considerably when I'm introduced alongside any of my fellow compadres. I sense strong opinions underlying new introductions. The words, Yew Ess strike cords on peoples emotions, good or bad. But from the news and through friendly stories it seems the world is getting progressively more frightening. Might be that I'm simply more aware of the dangers, or, and this is an equation I calculate more often, we are reaching a boiling point. Only so much can fit in the pot, eh?
For now it's off to shower and then work. The weather is getting uncomfortably cold. However, the sun is out now and I can hear the children down at the elementary school, which means it's just about time to go.
So take care and we'll chat soon.
But nearly everything else, terror aside (at least upon our borders), he's botched. I feel I'm preaching to the quire, since I imagine you share this opinion. I feel it more outside of The US just through association. I've never not claimed I was an American, but the reaction differs considerably when I'm introduced alongside any of my fellow compadres. I sense strong opinions underlying new introductions. The words, Yew Ess strike cords on peoples emotions, good or bad. But from the news and through friendly stories it seems the world is getting progressively more frightening. Might be that I'm simply more aware of the dangers, or, and this is an equation I calculate more often, we are reaching a boiling point. Only so much can fit in the pot, eh?
For now it's off to shower and then work. The weather is getting uncomfortably cold. However, the sun is out now and I can hear the children down at the elementary school, which means it's just about time to go.
So take care and we'll chat soon.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Seoul Part 2
Meet Andy at 1:15. Load three bikes. Toast a cold one. Pass out for a couple hours. Blink. Jerky bus pulls into the station. Bleary eyes focus on a sleep depraved daze. Bikes pulled out into the crisp air, we stare at each other and go about assessing material belongings. Looks like everything is here.
The two bike shuffle to Stu's nearest bakery and wait, eat yesterdays cooked dough listening to the shittiest music in the world. Korean Pop. Must compare most closesly to seventies eighties, nineties and current pop music popular in the states. Shit all around. As a matter of fact. It is impossible to escape this plagueish cruelty that most successfully satruated the lower half of the Korean peninsula. Pooah! At any given moment, while standing on any street in any large city, one could find themself deciding between no less tha
n three different beats in which to walk to. Fuking mind numbing.
Get the call to come up to Stu's. Within twenty minutes the other 5 guys show, and it's on the road. Interesting Bongo ride. Stu's an interesting guy.
On the mountain, the drops were on. I managed to do three of the four big drops, opting out of the 15 footer that has only been managed by one other Filthy. And thus it bares his name: Johny's Drop. I'm still trying to get another photo or two of the other drops. This was the first of four. Did this one twice.
The mountain was not quite as fast as the previous weekend but railed all the same. No morning rain to add the adhesive to the dirt. Dusty it was. We put down six runs and far too much beer. When the truck was emptied in the garage we filled a 40 gallon garbage can with beer bottles. A bit excessive me thinks. The next trip up will be done with less liquid courage. The next trip up will be my last. Planning a hike and bike day on Acha-san. Beer doesn't have a place when we're hiking these beasts to the top instead of enjoying the pleasure of the shuttle bitch bongo.
After the mountain, we stopped at a USFK golf course and country club. They have the best burgers on the peninsula. These are the guys...
Most are part of the group named the Filthies.
This is the bongo crew. There's another couple guys
that we associate with a jeep. The jeep crew. Some of the
guys ride with both rigs, some choose not to. There's a bit of bad blood
somewhere in the group so when one rig goes out, the other stays home.
Childish. Hopefully that'll change before I come back.
So burgers down, little nap in the back of the Bongo on the ride home, unloaded and bikes locked up, Andy and I head for a bath house. 5 bucks gets you five varrying temp hot tubs, washing facilities and a razor. Looking sharp, feeling awake, ready to move, we hop in a police car and get a front door service ride to the club.
The music was good, the club was sweet, but the turn-out was shit. The head-liner didn't make his flight from England. Still, I managed to dance for 5 hours with about ten minutes of rest. I do this little crazy dance that has evolved from my yourger days on the floor of the 3B to a twisting hippy dance that only works with break beats. Superfun, but horrible on my recently broken foot. I limped home...
Well that's about it. A good weekend in all. I sold a bike, Andy sold a bike, the riding was twisted and fun, the eats and beats filled in the gaps and the KTX (Korean bullet train) zoomed us south to Daegu. Brought my lady some flowers and took her out to dinner when we got back. Woke up Monday tired but rested.
Next weekend I'm takin' it easy.
The two bike shuffle to Stu's nearest bakery and wait, eat yesterdays cooked dough listening to the shittiest music in the world. Korean Pop. Must compare most closesly to seventies eighties, nineties and current pop music popular in the states. Shit all around. As a matter of fact. It is impossible to escape this plagueish cruelty that most successfully satruated the lower half of the Korean peninsula. Pooah! At any given moment, while standing on any street in any large city, one could find themself deciding between no less tha
n three different beats in which to walk to. Fuking mind numbing.Get the call to come up to Stu's. Within twenty minutes the other 5 guys show, and it's on the road. Interesting Bongo ride. Stu's an interesting guy.
On the mountain, the drops were on. I managed to do three of the four big drops, opting out of the 15 footer that has only been managed by one other Filthy. And thus it bares his name: Johny's Drop. I'm still trying to get another photo or two of the other drops. This was the first of four. Did this one twice.
The mountain was not quite as fast as the previous weekend but railed all the same. No morning rain to add the adhesive to the dirt. Dusty it was. We put down six runs and far too much beer. When the truck was emptied in the garage we filled a 40 gallon garbage can with beer bottles. A bit excessive me thinks. The next trip up will be done with less liquid courage. The next trip up will be my last. Planning a hike and bike day on Acha-san. Beer doesn't have a place when we're hiking these beasts to the top instead of enjoying the pleasure of the shuttle bitch bongo.
After the mountain, we stopped at a USFK golf course and country club. They have the best burgers on the peninsula. These are the guys...
Most are part of the group named the Filthies.
This is the bongo crew. There's another couple guys
that we associate with a jeep. The jeep crew. Some of the
guys ride with both rigs, some choose not to. There's a bit of bad blood
somewhere in the group so when one rig goes out, the other stays home.
Childish. Hopefully that'll change before I come back.
So burgers down, little nap in the back of the Bongo on the ride home, unloaded and bikes locked up, Andy and I head for a bath house. 5 bucks gets you five varrying temp hot tubs, washing facilities and a razor. Looking sharp, feeling awake, ready to move, we hop in a police car and get a front door service ride to the club.
The music was good, the club was sweet, but the turn-out was shit. The head-liner didn't make his flight from England. Still, I managed to dance for 5 hours with about ten minutes of rest. I do this little crazy dance that has evolved from my yourger days on the floor of the 3B to a twisting hippy dance that only works with break beats. Superfun, but horrible on my recently broken foot. I limped home...
Well that's about it. A good weekend in all. I sold a bike, Andy sold a bike, the riding was twisted and fun, the eats and beats filled in the gaps and the KTX (Korean bullet train) zoomed us south to Daegu. Brought my lady some flowers and took her out to dinner when we got back. Woke up Monday tired but rested.
Next weekend I'm takin' it easy.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Close your mouth
So I know some of you must me sitting there speechless seeing another entry coming so close on the heals of the last. I've made a promise to myself that I will more regularly indulge my vanity by talking about myself. So here goes:
We're heading back to Seoul this weekend. Loamy, moist soil draws me north. Last weekend, The Nam held much similarity with the black soils of Galbraith. Wet my mouth just thinking about being home in six weeks. The trails were so sweet, partly to do with recent rains but more eloquently with the smoky morning mist that just seemed to linger. With nine sound riders, and one guy nice enough to drive us to the top all day, The endorphins came easily. It felt like some sections of these trails would breath for you. The bike rolls, accepting at times the smallest rein of control, at times violent yanks and jerkings, and never complaining when bounced off obstacles. It's quite ridiculous really. And it only seems to be getting faster and more fun.
So again we (Andy and I) take the midnight express from Daegu north to Seoul, arriving at 4:30am. This time I'll have two bikes under my ass. Not sure how that's going to work yet... Spend the day on the mountain, fueled by adrenaline and beer, then off to a club I can't remember the name of to see a DJ I can't remember the name of. But hey, it's breaks and in a land ruled by the unimaginative beats of Hip Hop, any name will do.
This time I'll try not to be shy with the camera. It'll be out and often. I took some video last time, but nothing I was impressed with. Getting out the camera just never seems an option. We never want to stop. At 20 mph, two inches from trees, Launching and landing, driving a tire hard through a corner, Ah, How could you stop. Its top to bottom. The lead changes from time to time when someone misses a turn or slides out, hits a tree, tumbles into the bushes or just can't go fast enough. And then it's up and the race continues. But about cameras; there are a couple of drops I've eyed in the past but either didn't have the courage, confidence or enough beer in me to try, or I've been on the wrong bike. This time should be different. Drops always get cameras out.
As I mentioned, I'll be home in six weeks. Turkey sandwiches, cranberries, salt and pepper, and some of that TG stuffing. On a roll. Diana's rolls.
See you all soon.
We're heading back to Seoul this weekend. Loamy, moist soil draws me north. Last weekend, The Nam held much similarity with the black soils of Galbraith. Wet my mouth just thinking about being home in six weeks. The trails were so sweet, partly to do with recent rains but more eloquently with the smoky morning mist that just seemed to linger. With nine sound riders, and one guy nice enough to drive us to the top all day, The endorphins came easily. It felt like some sections of these trails would breath for you. The bike rolls, accepting at times the smallest rein of control, at times violent yanks and jerkings, and never complaining when bounced off obstacles. It's quite ridiculous really. And it only seems to be getting faster and more fun.
So again we (Andy and I) take the midnight express from Daegu north to Seoul, arriving at 4:30am. This time I'll have two bikes under my ass. Not sure how that's going to work yet... Spend the day on the mountain, fueled by adrenaline and beer, then off to a club I can't remember the name of to see a DJ I can't remember the name of. But hey, it's breaks and in a land ruled by the unimaginative beats of Hip Hop, any name will do.
This time I'll try not to be shy with the camera. It'll be out and often. I took some video last time, but nothing I was impressed with. Getting out the camera just never seems an option. We never want to stop. At 20 mph, two inches from trees, Launching and landing, driving a tire hard through a corner, Ah, How could you stop. Its top to bottom. The lead changes from time to time when someone misses a turn or slides out, hits a tree, tumbles into the bushes or just can't go fast enough. And then it's up and the race continues. But about cameras; there are a couple of drops I've eyed in the past but either didn't have the courage, confidence or enough beer in me to try, or I've been on the wrong bike. This time should be different. Drops always get cameras out.
As I mentioned, I'll be home in six weeks. Turkey sandwiches, cranberries, salt and pepper, and some of that TG stuffing. On a roll. Diana's rolls.
See you all soon.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Time
A good friend of mine was recently commenting on how little time he has to nurture his creative side. Concisely listing all the required resposibilities of his daily life while wistfully alluding to the plethora of unexplored interests just out of realization. To him I say, get off the internet you gomer. And burn your TV while your at it.
Finally heading back to Seoul this weekend. Haven't been in almost 6 months. Went up once since I broke my foot in April but wasn't in good enough shape to put in much of a showing on the mountain. This time should be different however. My bike is dialed. My foot hurts not. And with the last few days on the mountain that I've had, I'm sweating confidence. (A fantastic pheromone for the dance floor by the way.) My buddy Andy and I'll be taking the 1:30 express bus from Daegu tonight and getting in around 4:30. Then it's a light pedal across a couple bridges swamped in the morning light of commuting Seoulite headlights. (Koreans work 6 day weeks, 12 hours a day. There kids go to school no less than 12 hours a day except Saturday which they attend for four hours. And they pay almost 6 dollars a gallon for gas. And for reasons I have yet to find, they're nearly always smiling.)
When we arrive at Stu's, it'll be coffee and bike maintenance, load and hit the road with six or seven riders, all with monster bikes, destination: The Nam. Nam han san seong, home to an endless system of top shelf trails laden with slimy roots, bush hiding boulders, sickeningly steep shoots, an occasional drop for good measure and the always elusive hikers. Add beer, lack of shut eye and pride and you have one fast train of sexy Filthies. (For anyone who cares, mtbk-adventure.com is the group sight for my fellow riders. If you dig deep enough, you'll even find a picture of my sorry ass.)
After the day's riding has concluded, the plan as of now will be to meet some friends from the Bellingham area, eat some international food (burger at The Hard Rock) and try to find some company on the dance floor. I just want to hold a hand. I'll let you all know how that goes on Monday.
that's it for now, I'll add a couple pictures sometime soon if I can remember how.
Finally heading back to Seoul this weekend. Haven't been in almost 6 months. Went up once since I broke my foot in April but wasn't in good enough shape to put in much of a showing on the mountain. This time should be different however. My bike is dialed. My foot hurts not. And with the last few days on the mountain that I've had, I'm sweating confidence. (A fantastic pheromone for the dance floor by the way.) My buddy Andy and I'll be taking the 1:30 express bus from Daegu tonight and getting in around 4:30. Then it's a light pedal across a couple bridges swamped in the morning light of commuting Seoulite headlights. (Koreans work 6 day weeks, 12 hours a day. There kids go to school no less than 12 hours a day except Saturday which they attend for four hours. And they pay almost 6 dollars a gallon for gas. And for reasons I have yet to find, they're nearly always smiling.)
When we arrive at Stu's, it'll be coffee and bike maintenance, load and hit the road with six or seven riders, all with monster bikes, destination: The Nam. Nam han san seong, home to an endless system of top shelf trails laden with slimy roots, bush hiding boulders, sickeningly steep shoots, an occasional drop for good measure and the always elusive hikers. Add beer, lack of shut eye and pride and you have one fast train of sexy Filthies. (For anyone who cares, mtbk-adventure.com is the group sight for my fellow riders. If you dig deep enough, you'll even find a picture of my sorry ass.)
After the day's riding has concluded, the plan as of now will be to meet some friends from the Bellingham area, eat some international food (burger at The Hard Rock) and try to find some company on the dance floor. I just want to hold a hand. I'll let you all know how that goes on Monday.
that's it for now, I'll add a couple pictures sometime soon if I can remember how.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Life has been nothing if not exciting these last few months. It's been a while since I've actually written anything about this passing time. Since my last wordly wrote, I've seen the sun crest snow capped Bavarian alpines from the romantic conclave of an ancient Inn nestled in the shadow of the (some say) Worlds greatest castle. Heard tales of Kings and Priests, of warriors and marching armies. I've watched as the city of Munich exploded in a kaleidoscope of smoking color: 360 degrees of bang and pop, boom and sizzle. Waltzing in Munich as The rockets red (green, blue, yellow, white...) glare lit up my soul. A New Year on which it was only proper to see the sun rise whilst dining on the fine cuisine of the only open restaurant, Burger King.
Returning from one land of ice and snow to another. I embarked on a frigid onslaught of well established and lightly populated trails. Where the exploration of snowy mountains was made all the more invigorating by the highly anticipated arrival of my Dirt Bag frame, unlocking doors I am only now realizing are ,metaphorically, "off the hinges."
I was recently discussing with a new friend how difficult it's going to be to reassimilate again into the US culture. Having only been gone for a year and a half, I'm simply not ready to be home for any real length of time. I only think of my next destination. Having lived the last year appreciating the company of well travelled people; folk who have explored the real essence of their destination, not just the bus ride from the airport to the hotel, but have gone to the "farthest" regions of the earth with little more than a back pack and a smile; their words linger in my mind and fan the flames of dread that have kindled at the thought of US life. I need to keep exploring. One of the greatest reflections I've had since my departure from Candy Land is that I truly live day to day. So rarely do I dwell on my life and "where I'm going." My favorite reply to the "what's next" question is, "we'll see." A visit home will be just that. The thought of putting down roots and all would be hard. Not saying that with the right job and situation I wouldn't be happy, but it'd have to be just that.
Returning from one land of ice and snow to another. I embarked on a frigid onslaught of well established and lightly populated trails. Where the exploration of snowy mountains was made all the more invigorating by the highly anticipated arrival of my Dirt Bag frame, unlocking doors I am only now realizing are ,metaphorically, "off the hinges."
I was recently discussing with a new friend how difficult it's going to be to reassimilate again into the US culture. Having only been gone for a year and a half, I'm simply not ready to be home for any real length of time. I only think of my next destination. Having lived the last year appreciating the company of well travelled people; folk who have explored the real essence of their destination, not just the bus ride from the airport to the hotel, but have gone to the "farthest" regions of the earth with little more than a back pack and a smile; their words linger in my mind and fan the flames of dread that have kindled at the thought of US life. I need to keep exploring. One of the greatest reflections I've had since my departure from Candy Land is that I truly live day to day. So rarely do I dwell on my life and "where I'm going." My favorite reply to the "what's next" question is, "we'll see." A visit home will be just that. The thought of putting down roots and all would be hard. Not saying that with the right job and situation I wouldn't be happy, but it'd have to be just that.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Friday, December 03, 2004
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