Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'

Andy and I have reentered the wonderful world of rollerblading. I can’t really speak for Andy, but I know that the last time I was on a pair of rollerblades was the summer before I entered seventh grade. That was 13 years ago. Needless to say, I was a little rusty.

I prayed as I left the comfort of the car seat and hoisted myself onto my newly acquired skates. I held my arms out in a feeble attempt to solidify my balance. My ankles wobbled to and fro until they gave up the fight and decided to settle in their equilibrium. Success. I looked and Andy (who had mastered his skates without so much as wobbling) with a look of triumph on my face. He told me I was adorable.

One foot at a time, I tried movement on the skates. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, scared to venture more than four inches per foot. I slowly made my way the eight feet from the car to the sidewalk. I continued this way with my ankles continually fighting the foreign concept of balancing on such a small surface. I argued with my feet and told them that they would just have to get used to it.

I uneventfully made it to the sidewalk and even successfully navigated a small curve. Granted, I was only traveling about .2 mph, but I am not super keen on falling down. As I rounded my first turn, I quickly began gaining speed. I was not moving my feet and yet, the wind was blowing harder and harder around my head. “ANDY!” I shouted in a state of panic. “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO STOP!!!” I remembered that the brake was on the back of the skate, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to use it. Andy told me to just skate into the grass, which I did, and I crashed. That’s to be expected, right? It had been a while since I had last skated.

I brushed myself off, grumbled about the fresh grass stains on my jeans and elbows, and tried again. I slowly reentered the path where Andy was waiting for me. Then, it happened again. I wasn’t moving a muscle and yet I was picking up speed. This time ended just like last time. I rolled into the grass and fell down. I really had to remember how to stop. At this point, Andy just laughed, told me how adorable I was and said that that slight hill was a tough one. What he meant was that it was tough for me. He didn’t appear to struggle with the hill at all. I will henceforth reference the hill as ‘Satan’.

I got up, dusted off the new grass clippings, and vowed that I would do better. We went around a curve and were greeted by the mercy of flat ground. I decided this would be the ideal place to relearn how to stop. Over and over again I experimented with the brake while shifting my weight different ways to figure out the mystery. When I finally thought that I had it, we circled the park to tackle ‘Satan’ again.

With more confidence, I slowly approached ‘Satan’. I felt myself gain speed. With a certain smugness, I jammed my heel down, only for it to nick the ground fly into the air, followed by my left leg and ultimately dumping me on my back. Awesome. Satan won. For awhile, I was content to just lie there to catch my breath and make sure that I did not have a concussion.
After a while, Andy realized that I was no longer behind him.

“Are you ok?” asked Andy obviously trying not to laugh.

“Yeah. I’m just going to lie here for a minute.”

After a few minutes, Andy helped me up. We lapped the park a few more times (during one of these laps, a little boy pointed at Andy’s skates and screamed, “MOM! I want shoes like that!! I want shoes with wheels!!”) and decided to call it a night.

I look forward to getting better. I think that will just come with practice.

Dante's Peak

For this beautiful Fourth of July weekend, Andy and I decided to take advantage of the sunshine (which has been shockingly few and far between this year) and go on a hike. We chose to take the Lake Blanche hike, mostly because we’ve done the hike across the street from it and were curious. Andy did some research about this hike, just to know what we should be prepared for, and found that it was a moderate hike. I did my own research and read an article stating that this was a very strenuous hike. It advised potential hikers to take plenty of water and stop often. Automatically, I was a little hesitant about this hike. I am not what you might call an ‘advanced’ hiker, so this description was somewhat unsettling. When I brought this to Andy’s attention, he told me that he had also seen the scary website but that he had found several other websites that called the hike ‘moderate’ and he thought we would have no problem.

Come the day of the hike, we ate a hearty breakfast, packed a backpack with lunch, 4 nalgenes, sweatshirts, sun block, etc…which altogether weighed about 25-30 lbs. But that shouldn’t be too hard with a moderate hike, right?

We drove to the trailhead, parked, and began our 6.2 mile trek. It began on a nice paved incline then took a sharp fork to the right. We looked up the steep path which was peppered with large boulders. We took a deep breath and started climbing with the full realization that this was the next three miles and 3.5 hours of our lives.

We climbed and climbed, clambering over boulders and swimming through the overgrown path. I started out strong, quickly taking the lead. I danced between Andy and going farther and farther ahead. I couldn’t figure out why Andy was going so slowly. There was no way that I was in better shape than him. After an hour or so Andy suggested that we trade the load of the backpack. All of the sudden I understood why Andy was so slow. It was difficult to walk under the weight of the pack, let alone climb over things at a steep incline. Now he was the one dancing up the trail then back to me over and over. He patiently waited at the top of a particularly hellish hill as I baby-stepped up the slope, strategically planning my four stops along the way. He assisted me over the very large boulders and kept telling me how much easier the hike was without the back pack. Part of me wanted to slap him. Part of me wanted to ditch the backpack down the cliff directly to my right.

No, I told myself. This hike is nothing. So what if a have the weight of a medium sized child attached to my back? It would be easier to carry it to the top than to deal with a tired, hungry Andy after I told him that I just sent our lunch into the forest. I continued on, as Atlas, carrying the weight of our lunch, drinks, sweatshirts, sun block, camera, what have you, toward our destination.

30 minutes later, I begged Andy to take the backpack back. Being the upstanding fellow he is, he chivalrously shouldered the burden and continued on without so much as making fun of my failure.

We continued our climb and I noticed that, while the hike was more manageable without the backpack, my legs were beginning to give out. My breaks were occurring at, what seemed like, every switchback. I groaned with tormented ferocity as Andy remarked for the 52nd time that the lake must be ‘just over the next ridge’! I began counting my steps in sets of 8, trying to make it match whatever song was in my head. And the climb continued. By and by, we came across a switchback that emptied onto a side of the mountain with boulders instead of a trail. Andy and I were confused. The path didn’t continue. Surely, we weren’t supposed to venture out onto this seemingly dangerous mountain. Andy expertly stepped off the path and began climbing the mountain. “Oh, here’s the rest of the path,” said Andy with grin. As we moved from the loose, boulderous mountain to the friendly hard earth, we happened upon the ever-present German hiker who told us that the end was in sight. He guessed about 30 more minutes.

We huffed and puffed and 45 minutes later, we reached Lake Blanche. We found a nice place near the lake where we gratefully devoured our delicious lunch and rested for 30 minutes. After our rest, we decided that it was time to head back. I was practically falling asleep from exhaustion and wanted to make it back to the car before I passed out. The descent seemed twice as steep as the climb. Every time, I stepped off the ledge of a boulder, I felt the shock burn from my ankles, to my knees, and eventually settling in my hips. Each step made my hips scream out in pain. This was the longest three miles of my life.

I was very grateful to a few hippies we passed on our way down. As we approached them one pointed to a field and said ‘Moose’. I looked out into the field, and there was a male moose eating a tree. It was magnificent! This was my first moose sighting! What a treat. He was adorably ugly and huge! I thanked the nice hippies and we continued on our way. We passed a guy who laughed at ‘how tired’ we looked. No way. We passed a guy who was gracious enough to stop peeing mid-stream to let us pass. We passed a few tired and cranky kids who asked how close they were. I smiled and told them that they still had quite a way to go. We passed two women who were carrying infants strapped to their chest. Most astonishing to me: we passed several (at least 10) men without shirts RUNNING the trail. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh at them, cry for them, or roll my eyes at their apparent masculinity.

We made it back to the car two hours after we began our descent. We drove home and I promptly fell asleep. When I woke up, I drove directly to Café Rio where I finished an entire Café Rio salad by myself.

I decided that in Utah ‘moderate’ means that you don’t have to use climbing gear. If that’s the case, then yes, this demon of a hike was moderate.

Through it all, it was a great hike. I look forward to trying it again.

I struggled with my temper.

BCBS of a certain unnamed state has possibly the worst employees ever. I have been on the phone with them (off and on) for five hours (and that is not an exaggeration). My reason for speaking to the nurse reviewer (an honest to God RN) was to authorize a one night stay in the hospital. Here are a few of my favorite quotes:

“Is that a real diagnosis?”

“I’m sorry ma’am but those codes don’t exist. I don’t care how many of this surgery your doctor does; it doesn’t make it these codes more or less real.”

“That diagnosis isn’t reason enough for the inpatient stay because it doesn’t specify if the kid is severely retarded or not.”

“Listen here, Missy. If the kid is a retard, I will happily grant you your one night request.”

After the last quote, I finally asked to speak to the woman’s manager. Here was her response:

“Now really, that isn’t necessary. I’m not trying to fight you. I’ll authorize it.”

The Sight of a Legend

Trax is often a boring necessity which takes me from the parking structure to work everyday. Today, it served as a wondrous experience. I boarded the train and grabbed the nearest seat, grumpy to be awake and active so early in the morning. My normal routine is to stare out the window and pretend that no one else exists, but something was different today.

From the corner of my right eye, I saw a scruffy red beard. I turned to gaze out the window. Something bothered me about the glimpse of the beard. I snuck another peek to the right. There was thick reddish hair to accompany the red scruffy beard. I turned back to the window and tried to place how I knew this man. I scanned my brain and tried to place this recognizable hair-do. Then it hit me.

I let out a small cry as this man’s appearance registered in my memory. I was sitting next to Chuck Norris.

I was sitting next to Chuck Norris. I kept stealing glances to my right to confirm that this was indeed the bad-ass that was Chuck Norris. The legend that inspired the Chuck Norris facts (www.chucknorrisfacts.com). After my sixth double-take, Chuck Norris looked at me and smiled. Confirmation: this was Chuck Norris, in Salt Lake City, on TRAX. I think I smiled back. It might have been a grimace or something that resembled choking. I can’t be sure.

As we sat there staring at each other, the train pulled into the Ft. Douglas stop. Chuck Norris got up, grabbed his man purse, winked at me, and strode to the door.

I turned in my seat. “Wait!” I heard myself say. “Can I have your autograph?”

Chuck Norris looked at me. “Now, why would you want that?” Chuck Norris gave me a sly smirk and chuckled.

I blushed. How was I supposed to answer that? “Well, because you are Chuck Norris!” I scraped for the reason Chuck Norris was looking for.

Chuck Norris chuckled again. The doors to the train opened. “I’m not Chuck Norris, but thanks.” With that, Chuck Norris exited the train.

Is this story true? Possibly. I will leave you with this Chuck Norris Fact:

“Chuck Norris was the fourth wise man, who gave baby Jesus the gift of beard, which he carried with him until he died. The other three wise men were enraged by the preference that Jesus showed to Chuck's gift, and arranged to have him written out of the bible. All three died soon after of mysterious roundhouse-kick related injuries.”

Things that made me go Hmmm (in the past month or so)

As the title states, this is a record of things that have confused, astonished, and wowed me in the past month...

Walking into a 7/11 and being greeted by the original cast recording of Chorus Line. (Don’t get me wrong. I loved singing “Went to church praying Santa Maria, send me guidance, send me guidance, on my knees…” while pouring myself some black tea)

Sitting next to a bunch of douchy professorial types and listen to them debate whether Sriracha is from Japan or Santiago (pronounced Sonteeaaaaaaaaaago). Guess what, Douche bags? It is from Thailand.

People making up their own words such as “Simplize,” “furiousating,” and “embarrassly.” Really?

Being approached by a complete stranger (a week before the wedding) who knows my (and Andy's name) who proceeds to ask me, "Oh, Candace! I know you and Andy aren't married yet, but when do you plan on extending your family?" No joke. The lady wasn't even old. She should have known better.

And, there you have it. All of the above occurrences made me go hmm.

Lamentations of a Nighttime Nurse

Fact: This story may or may not be based on real events which may or may not have been experienced by my husband last night.

6:53 pm- Work called. It looks like I will have to head into the office some time tonight. Whether it is in one hour, or five, I don’t know. Dr. Mahoolahan will call me when it’s time for me to do my part. For now, I will just wait.

10:00 pm- Still no word. I call Dr. Mahoolahan. He tells me that there are no updates as of yet. For now, I just wait by the phone. I decide to hit the hay. I am likely to be in for a long night.

2:00 am- My pager goes off. Figures. Dr. Mahoolahan informs me that it is time to go. I grumble as I roll out of bed. I throw on some scrubs and start on my five minute journey to the office.

2:04 am- Lights in the rear view mirror. Damn. I pull to the side of the road. I quickly review the situation to figure out why I would possibly be pulled over at 2 am. The policeman strolls to my window. “You have a headlight out,” comments the cop. Yeah, that headlight goes off and on depending on its mood. “License, registration, and insurance.” I gather the documents and hand over the information. “Do you have a current insurance card?” Double damn. I tell him that the new cards are sitting on my coffee table. As he studies the rest of the information, he realizes that the address on my driver’s license doesn’t match the address on my registration. Triple damn. The officer smiles and hands me three tickets: one for the headlight, one for the insurance, one for the driver’s license. Bastard.

I call Candace, wake her up, and tell her about the three tickets. She didn’t know that you are supposed to change your address within 10 days of moving either. She also thinks that’s a stupid law. I drive the last minute to work.

4:30 am- I am finally finished with work and in the comfort of my own bed. I can’t sleep. I turn on whatever is in the dvd player…ah. Season 12 of South Park. The noise wakes Candace up. We sit there staring at the tv for the next hour and a half. It’s funny, but not much registers.

6:00 am- I get in the shower. I have to be back to work in one hour.
One hell of a night.

PS-
Andy- Sorry if I got any of the specifics wrong.

Australia

Our Successes: • Getting through the Melbourne customs during swine flu (this includes filling out additional health information cards and the discarding of my beloved Sudafed) • Our hotel upgraded our room because it was our honeymoon! YAY! (see first video) • We explored the area around our hotel including Federation Square, the Yarra River, and the nearby park • We were able to stay up until 8:30 our first night. A definite success. • We feasted upon an Australian brekky—the biggest breakfast I have ever had. It was magnificent! • The Healesville Sanctuary was a wonderful experience! • I pet a Kangaroo! • Saw several platypus (yes, that is the correct plural) • Watched koalas eat! • Watched Tasmanian Devil pups fight over a freshly slaughtered rodent of some sort • We were greeted by Pelicans and Rock wallabies! • Andy ordered his first coffee: a long black. • Andy successfully completed his first hook turn! (see second video) • We discovered that there are several great cafes down any given alley in Melbourne. In one of these cafes, we discovered Mudhouse wine. Mmmm. • Andy figured out the toll roads! • We experienced the Great Ocean Road and all of the adventures that included • We found a great restaurant in a small coastal town • We experienced waterfalls, eucalypt forests, rain forest, heartbreaking devastation from the bush fires, cool rock formations (twelve apostles) and farm land • We wandered around Fitzroy and found breakfast. Thanks, Mario’s! • We walked St. Kilda pier and saw Wicked (Australians using American accents) • We dined with our dear friends Chris and Nette! • We used public transportations • After stuffing ourselves with Italian food, we managed to pack down a medium gelato as well! • We finally found an Ipod adapter for the car. Interestingly enough, it was sold to us by a very smelly, nerdy American. Go figure. • We saw hundreds of wild kangaroos! • Watched a few people be mauled by cockatoos • I hand fed a bird (I wish I could tell you what kind, but I don’t know) • We hiked McKenzie Falls • Aquarium. It was delightful! We saw stonefish, lionfish, sea dragons, sea turtles, sharks and stuff. • Melbourne City Museum. They were having a special exhibition of Australian political cartoons. Surprise: we didn’t get any of them. • We watched a footy game on TV. Go Cats! • We visited Phillip Island where we saw wallabies, koalas, nifty birds, and little penguins. • We ate lunch at a “healthy burger” café. Andy’s 1/3 lb burger had bacon, fried egg, beet, onion, lettuce, tomato, and pineapple. It was served with a healthy serving of fries covered in “mexi” salt.


What we learned: • Any child may be forgiven if he or she has a cute Australian accent (or speaks German) • Most of the toilets (that I encountered) did not swirl, but when I crossed a toilet that did swirl, I noticed that the water swirls counter clockwise. • The Sydney airport has awesome musac (including the smooth sounds of George Michael, Olivia Newton-John, and Elton John) • EVERYTHING closes by 6 pm on a Sunday night in Melbourne. The local 7-11 was the only thing open that we could find. • Australians have a harder time understanding the American accent. I wonder how they fare with southerners. • No American beer to be found…FINALLY! • Driving outside of the city looks very similar to driving around the bay area. The only differences are the trees (eucalyptus) and the wildlife. • The signals inside the car were all opposite. Ask Andy how many times he turned on the windshield wipers while trying to access the turn signals. • Australians REALLY like breakfast. We sat near a table of four (normal sized) people who went back to the breakfast buffet multiple times (more than four) to fill up their plates with the offered goodies. It was impressive. • American’s can be stupid tourists. We encountered an American guy who thought it necessary to argue with an employee of Healesville sanctuary about the theory of evolution while the employee was telling the audience about Flo, the wombat. • Victoria Bitter isn’t bitter at all. • Our GPS struggled a bit. It couldn’t find us unless we were out of the city and the numbers on the GPS did not always represent the numbers of the actual motorways. Well done, Garmin. • Honey was served in the comb at our hotel • Ipod adapters are rare • Tipping isn’t expected but it is very appreciated • Australia has the best sunsets I have ever seen. • Next time, I must remember to bring hiking shoes, sandals, and a towel • Australia has their fair share of crazies • Australian ‘Little Italy’ is a smaller version of New York ‘Little Italy.’ You are harassed as you walk down the street by waiters who offer you free embellishments if you eat at that particular restaurant. Seriously. • Eggs are $8/dozen and milk is $4.50 for ½ gallon • Most architecture for homes seemed to be directly influenced by the French Quarter • Brewed coffee cannot be found in Australia (not even at starbucks) • Australians love ice cream • Kangaroos really do just jump out in front of your car (we almost hit one!) • The Kabob is unknown. They are advertised in the normal flat bread way, but it is only served over salad. Very disappointing • Americans use the term ‘sandwich’ too loosely. We were corrected that a focaccia is NOT a sandwich. I’m sorry. It’s between two pieces of bread. It’s a sandwich. • Pancakes and cream= Pancakes with a few scoops of ice cream. • The people of Victoria are against horse jumping after five horse deaths. We saw protestors. • If you are a female working in Melbourne, there is a strict dress code: pencil skirt, black tights, and black pumps or knee high boots. I swear. EVERY woman was wearing this. • Cochlear implants were invented by a Melbournian. • Australia has an obscene amount of tourists…even in the off season. • Vegemite is alive and well in Australia. Gross. Amusing Signs: “Wake up! Drowsy drivers die!!” “Arrive on time! Not dead on time!” “Yawning? A microsleep can kill in seconds!” “Only sleep cures fatigue”