My cellphone was briefly introduced to the washing machine. It's currently in critical condition, but the prognosis is optimistic. I'll be leaving it off to dry out for a week while on vacation.

Also, I'll be on vacation in North Carolina with no internet for a week.

Peace out.

While talking through a long day of work with my dad, I found myself saying this: "I don't think I want any job that I don't about enough to cry over." The more I think it over, the truer it seems. I'm a little bit worried about what this means for my long-term mental health.

(There later followed this 5th grade dialogue:

"Angel! God, get away from me, you're making me claustrophobic!"

"What? You're afraid of Santa Claus? That doesn't even make sense!")

Today I looked up from my book, inside my parents more-or-less perfectly put together house, while Simon and Garfunkel sang about hammers and nails, and my eyes focused on a bowl of potpourri. I couldn't...I can't even express the confusion that that little bowl evoked in me. How did I get here? How did they get here? How do you become the type of person who has...little bowls of scented wood chippings? And dining room tables and credenzas. What the hell is a credenza? Why would you scent it? And is there some class you go to once you reach a certain level of maturity, so that suddenly you know how many pieces of dishware go in a dinner set, and exactly what pieces those should be? How do people figure this out? I'm not complaining or belittling it, I just feel like the type of person I am now is so very, very far away from the type of person who would own a credenza with aromatic thingys on it. Actually, I think what I'm asking is...how do you know how to be a grown-up? And I'm projecting on to the furniture.

When does that transition happen? Slowly when you're not paying attention? One day do you share a dorm room, the next an apartment, then a house with 5 others, 3 others, 1 other? And suddenly you have to decorate that house? I wonder if I was on that road in Davis -- I had my own place, my own car, paid my own bills -- and derailed myself totally. I own nothing. I have 3 pairs of pants, a couple of t-shirts, and a laptop computer somewhere in the mail. I live with my parents. How can I be an adult who owns furniture when I sleep in a room with neon pink walkman wallpaper? (No, I'm not kidding. But dear god I wish I was). What am I doing? What road am I on? I know that a lot of this is readjustment issues, because I can process no scary/bad emotion in a healthy way, but I still feel lost. What happened to those last two years? What did I gain from that? Some days I feel like they didn't even happen. The effects are there, but its as if the cause was a dream, and that scares the living be-jesus out of me.

Last night, I looked out my window and had to fight the urge to yank it open, climb down off the roof and go running barefoot for the nearest airport. Sprinting. The thought of freedom...of owning nothing in a world that owns nothing...was so appealing. I miss packing my life into a backpack and heading for the next adventure. I miss so much being Nomvula and walking to school at sunrise. I miss sitting on my front porch at sunset, drinking a mug of wine and greeting people as they walked home from church. I think I'm grieving for the last two years and don't know how to do it. So I panic about potpourri on the credenza.

...I think the title sort of says it all. Because it really happened. Monkeys got into my friends bag, wrangled out one of the boxes of bc that she was picking up for me in Pretoria, and then ran up a tree with it.

Monkeys ran up a tree with my birth control.

Fortunately they dropped it a couple minutes later. My friend didn't tell me until after she'd handed off the back. The box is a little chewed on, but the actual pills are unharmed.

Monkeys stole my birth control.

WTF Africa.

(I'm posting this here because I can only picture my grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents, parent's co-workers, etc...with images of my birth control dancing through their heads. As awesome as this story is, I just can't do that to them.)

Well, I can't get blogspot to work at the moment, so I'll just post here and cut and paste later. Today is my first official day of peace corps staging. I'm sitting in a hotel in the historic district of Philadelphia, getting ready to go check out a few touristy things and then head to lunch with a bunch of my training class whom I've previously met online.

Last night was excellent, Nicolette and I got into town at about 11pm, I met my roommate for the next few days -- who is wonderful, and then we headed out to find something to eat. We discovered this cool irish pub with a kitchen thats open until 1 only a few blocks away and sat outside just people watcing for a few hours. Philly has one hell of a nightlife, even at 1am on a Sunday people were all over the place. Actually, its a lot like New York, only in miniature.

I was so terrified the night before last. I was having panic attacks, and freaking out over nothing, and breaking down. But now -- now I am so excited I can't believe it. This is going to be great!!!!!!

I just found mr. Kroeller's contact info! I had posted something on craigs list ages ago, and today there was an email in my inbox. How cool is that?

some of them even on purpose.

So here's the thing: I like beer. Not even in a 'hooray it gets you drunk!' sort of way (though thats fun too) but in a 'ooh, so many neat varieties and flavors' style. And there's this local microbrewery not far from Ventura that makes some truly phenomenal beer. This stuff is amazing, and you can't really get it outside of the central coast without a whole lot of searching. So of course I wanted to get a chance to check it out before ditching the country for two years. entanglement (with no influence from me whatsoever, I swear...) has also recently decided that she enjoys a good high quality microbrew now and again. So together we decided that we would take a short day trip up to slo and enjoy whatever we found there.

All I really remembered about the location of the firestone brewery was that it was about where the 154 and the 101 hit, somewhere near San Luis Obispo. Kels wanted to see her younger brother, who lives in slo, so we decided we'd head up there and he would come with us. He said he'd been there before and that it wasn't far.

Well, that was the plan. (Those of you more geographically inclined than me may already see 2 initial problems with the above, and where one of our adventures is starting to pop up).

To synopsize:

-Kels' car was molested (she says) or maybe just waved off (I say) by a high as hell, purple polyester pimp hat wearing hippy at lightning in a bottle, when all we really wanted was a port-a-potty.

-Turns out that the firestone grill her brother had alluded to -- in addition to being an hour further north than we had originally expected -- had absolutely nothing to do with the firestone beers we were really after. (Although it did, on the bright side, alleviate any fears kels may have had about her brother sporting a fake id with the blasé attitude of a pro).

-When we finally did make it to firestone -- heaven! They have a reserve that defies anything you may have previously considered to be beer. Its rich, and thick, and amazing. So of course I wanted to bring some home. Except they don't sell it in 6 packs -- only cases. And the cases are 50 bucks. And they were out of the 22oz bottles. So I got a growler. Which, it turns out, is approximately a half gallon of beer that you can only store for 3 days and must then drink immediately and completely. Oops.

-The car keys may or may not have gotten locked into the car at an arco in Buellton, where my mother may or may not have spent much of her youth hanging out.

-We then drank the jug of beer and watched dr. who until 4 in the morning at dragonwoman's place.

Not a bad day, all in all.

Oh, and I discovered the wonder that is Gogol Bordello.

Double Oh -- 5 more days.

For anybody who is interested, all further Peace Corps related posts will be taking place at slainteafrica.blogspot.com, which (very) roughly and idiomatically translates to "Here's to Africa" (And when I say roughly and idiomatically, I mean that 'slainte' translates to 'health!' but is used as a toast. So it sort of works in an American idiom. What the hell, I liked it).

Today I drove back from Tess's house, and thought about time. I thought about how it was the same road I'd been driving to her place and back for 7 years; and I thought about the split second before my poor little car went 'bang' when all I could think was, "this is going to hurt" and the split second after when I opened my eyes and all I could think of was Angelina. And the sound, and the feeling, in the middle. The one where I was completely out of control and scared shitless. I never really understood the metaphor of something being balanced on a knife's edge before right then. Just teetering, and out of control, and about to fall in either directioin.

I also thought about where I was two years ago. Where I was five years ago. And who I was, too. I watched the fog roll up out of the ocean. I really was kind of a priss, wasn't I? Ed'd was too nice to say it (until I did) but its true. I have changed SO much. So much. I'm still me, but I'm...bigger in a mindset sort of way. I have a feeling I'm louder (I think my laugh is louder -- I don't remember people commenting on it out of the blue in high school the way they sometimes do now. I like that. I like that I laugh bigger than I did 5 years ago.) So many people have been so good for me. To me. Tess, and Em, Erin, Roy, Matt, Ed'd, Melissa, Kim, Judy, Kasey, Duncan, even Mark, though that was years ago and irritating as fuck at the time. I feel like I've been constantly stretched and pulled in the last few years. Like there was always somebody pointing in a direction I hadn't even known about before saying, "but look over there!" Thats exactly what it feels like. Look over there! And who knew? So many things I didn't know about! And everytime somebody pointed, I got to see a little further. Think of all the things I still don't know though. What must be lurking behind me still? Think of all the things I'm about to learn.

I had a point once, but I sort of forgot what it was. I was thinking about time though. I did watch the fog roll in and wonder what ghosts were wandering around. There was a ghost once, up near Tess's place, but he or she seems to have wandered off since. (You think I'm kidding?) Time does that, I guess.

Did I mention I'm going to South Africa from July 17 2006 to September 14, 2008?

I'll be training primary english teachers in rural schools that were formerly a part of bantu education (a truly fucked up element of apartheid).

And you know, maybe I did pad my resume a little too well, but maybe not, everything on there is honest -- this just shocks me because I don't feel like I'm qualified to tell other teachers how to teach. But if I hear one more time, "oh man, too bad your mom isn't going/you can't take her with you/wow honey, its too bad you won't have a direct line to me!" I'm going to go crazy. Yes my mother is a master teacher. Yes I have relied on her a lot while subbing, but hey guys: fuck you. I can do this, too.

PS

I think I want to start a new blog just for peace corps adventures. Any thoughts for a name?

ALLELUIA!!!!!

Oh my god, I am finally medically cleared. After 13 months, couple hundred bucks, mountains of paperwork, and a good few years off my life, I am considered medically fit to join the peace corps.

Hooray!!!

So.

My last piece of medical paperwork made its way to PC headquarters in DC last tuesday. Between friday and today I have talked to no fewer than 3 PC placement officers. Apparently the spots in the original program I was nominated for have all filled up, but a PO I spoke to today offered me a spot in another group departing two weeks earlier. Still TEFL, but no more girls education. I asked him about this, since women's empowerment was the part that had me just a little extra excited about the previous nomination. He told me (what was his name? It started with an R. Rosco? Ruben? Anyway) that women's empowerment is pretty much a part of every education volunteer position, that one just had it built into the language. So thats okay. This one has some extra emphasis on AIDS education. I'm sort of wondering what form this education is going to take, especially since the funding is coming from the US government. When it comes to STDs and (HIV especially) then abstinence only -- in my sheltered suburban middle-class opinion -- is tantamount to telling people that sluts deserve what they get. But the Peace Corps seems to be full of bleeding hearts culturally relative liberals like me. So we'll see about that.

Oh holy shit, I'm not really going to do this, am I? Two years? Three months? No TV? No internet? No microwaves? No English? No family? What in gods name am I thinking?

But then, I've been reading up on Cameroon (a distinct possibility). And Madagascar (An outside chance). Mom wants Madagascar. But there's always Burkina Faso

I can do this. Right?

Come on invite, be my birthday present.

Oh my god, southern faire has been happening this whole time and I didn't even know. April 8 - May 21. We're going.

Yay!!!!!!

I just dreamed that I was being chased by giant (no, giant -- 6 feet tall) fire ants. From outer space, no less. Against a backdrop that, now that I think of it, looked suspiciously like home in Ventura.

Also, Trevor had decided to become an Alpaca farmer.

Weird.

I know perfectly well that I haven't written anything in ages, but that doesn't mean shit hasn't been happening. In fact it feels like my whole life is up in the air right now. But I don't really care right now. Instead, I stole this from Tess:

Johari Window

Hooray!!

Peace Corps received the results of your physical exam on December 19, 2005. In some cases, Peace Corps may request additional medical information. Please respond quickly to these requests.

What an excellent reason to continue on to day 5 of my quest to be drunk every night for a week.

Well, that and I'm a college graduate.

Something fun I found while not writing the rest of my music final:

(put your cursor over the word)

appropirate

hahahahaha. Awesome.

7.75 hours to alumni-hood.

Idea thanks to Hortensia, who whether she knows it or not has helped me through this summer more than nearly any other human being on the planet.

Today, October 1, 2005, is my walking day. Yesterday I walked all over campus, and today I spent 5 hours on my feet at band-uh-thon, and you know what? I didn't hurt. I didn't limp. My left ankle wasn't stiff, I didn't have to lean on door knobs or chairs or the people around me. My feet hurt, but I could still walk. It seems like such a small thing, I guess, but suddenly this problem that I've had for over 9 years, this pain that was with me and in the back of my head more than I even realized all the time -- its gone. I'll never have to deal with it, or hide it, or be afraid of it's descent again. And gone too is 3 months of a barely suppressed terror that everything I've done this summer was worthless, and that the first day like today I would feel that old ache. (I think sometimes, incidentally, about what a narrow line must have been straddled before I was born. I have this incredibly bizarre foot thing, and the same hip is rotated out about 15 degrees. How close was I to not being able to walk at all? At what point was the difference made between life with this particular frustration, and life in a wheelchair? I know that may be a bit melodramatic, but I still feel blessed and incredibly lucky.)

So it may sound small to you, but today is my walking day.

From imdb.com Movie maverick Terry Gilliam is amazed that a planned movie starring Johnny Depp and Robin Williams is still on the shelf - because American investors can't raise $15 million. The former Monty Python member was thrilled when international money men offered him $45 million to make the film Good Omens with Depp as a demon and Williams as an angel. But he was shocked to discover that Americans didn't have the same sort of faith in the project, and they failed to raise the extra cash he needed to start work on the project - an adaptation of fantasy writers Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman's book. Gilliam tells US magazine Entertainment Weekly, "I couldn't get 15 with Johnny and Robin... These two guys, who would have been brilliant were not worth $15 million in America. That was the moment where I went, 'I don't understand this game. I don't understand this town (Hollywood). I don't understand any of the rules. All I know is I don't like it.'" Gilliam's last project with Depp, the ill-fated Quixote, became one of the biggest movie-making disasters in history when illness and storm-wrecked sets prompted financiers of the film to pull the plug as costs soared. The film, which was never completed, was turned into hit disaster documentary Lost in La Mancha. Gilliam hopes to complete his Don Quixote epic with Depp next year.

Okay, so I'm back in Davis. I've been here a week, and I'll be heading home again for a few days on friday (though the means by which I will accomplish that are still a little bit fuzzy). I got a walking cast, which means that for the first week I was walking sort-of by means of putting my left foot down, but still using the crutches. In theory I should be down to using just one crutch something like a cane this week, but I think I overdid it yesterday. The screw apparently sticks out the back of my foot a little bit and I think it caused some pretty massive bruising when I tried to go mono-crutch for a day. So for the moment I'm taking it easy and not putting weight on it at all. I'm a little worried, though. Is it going to keep bruising like this? And if so am I going to be able to walk at all or is dr. shithead going to have to go in and remove the screw, or reposition it or something, and is that going to result in another month and a half of casts? Fuck. I'm probably over-reacting and will adjust. But still: Fuck.

Some sketchy-ass representative of coach USA bussing told me that I was most likely hot, in an attempt to make me charter with him. He also called me 'kid' repeatedly, so he more or less lost any advantage that he may have gained. Plus Fleet services can do it for like $4,000 less. I still think that the outright flattery was funny. 32 hours to South Dakota and back. Hell yes.

I'm also learning that sometimes you can get your own way by keeping your mouth shut just as easily as you can by strong-arming and out stubborn-ing people (those these are also valid methods). Interesting to know, and something I should keep in mind, as stubborn is my usual strategy.

My meeting with the Chancelor is tomorrow. Good gods I hope that this goes well. The band deserves it. I remember once when Casey and I were doing a local TV interview for the teddy bear thing, and she told me, "The whole time I was just praying that God would give me the right words to say." I understand what she meant. I need the right words to make this work, not just so I can feel special and like I made a difference, but because its something that the band both needs and deserves. Lots of people ask for money, they've earned it time and time again.

Hmm, what else. Oh -- I smoked pot for the first time a few days ago. That was exciting. At first it mostly just made me cough a lot, but I did in fact get high. (Apparently this is novel for the first time). I felt an intense need to describe everything that I was feeling, it fascinated me. I spent pretty much the first 5 minutes just laughing my ass off and felt embarressed because I thought I was acting 'just like the people on TV.' It wasn't bad, but it made me very introverted, as opposed to when I'm drunk when I get very extroverted and happy. Also I couldn't snap out of it like you can do when you're drinking. So on the whole I think that my drug of choice will remain booze. What's the point of doing a drug that makes you more introverted when you're doing it with other people? And what's the point of doing it by yourself? Plus, if I get RDTed (thats random drug tested for Unitrans) and there's anything in my system I can kiss my job goodbye. So all in all, not a bad experience or experiment (I was curious, after all) but not really one worth repeating.

That's all that I can think of for now. Mostly just band and crippledom. Nothing new going on in Peace Corps world, I made all of my medical appointments and will probably spend about the next month filling out paperwork. Yay.

You Are 45% AmericanAmerica: You don't love it or want to leave it.

But you wouldn't mind giving it an extreme make over.

On the 4th of July, you'll fly a freak flag instead...

And give Uncle Sam a sucker punch!

How American Are You?

Apparently American equals wal-mart going, gun-toting, Clinton-hating, redneck. Why is it considered Un-American to be educated, thoughtful, and aware that you can love a person or place and still think that its making mistakes?

aka: Fun with procrastination

You scored as Democrat. <'Imunimaginative's Deviantart Page'>

Anarchism92%Democrat92%Green83%Socialist50%Communism42%Republican8%Nazi0%Fascism0%</td>

What Political Party Do Your Beliefs Put You In?

created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Punk/Rebel. But only because band dork wasn't a viable catergory. You should be so lucky as to be a member of the california aggie marching band-uh! Also, you probably drive that 2 layered bus in the background.

Punk/Rebel56%Loner44%Prep/Jock/Cheerleader38%Geek38%Drama nerd31%Ghetto gangsta31%Goth19%Stoner19%</td>

What's Your High School Stereotype?

created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Paganism. Your beliefs are most closely aligned with those of paganism, Wicca, or a similar earth-based religion. You may also follow a Native American religion.

Paganism71%Buddhism71%Satanism71%Hinduism58%agnosticism58%Islam54%Judaism42%Christianity38%atheism25%</td>

Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)

created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger75%Harry Potter75%Ron Weasley60%Ginny Weasley60%Sirius Black55%Remus Lupin55%Albus Dumbledore55%Draco Malfoy55%Severus Snape45%Lord Voldemort15%</td>

Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is...?

created with QuizFarm.com

How to make a aurora1700 Ingredients:

3 parts success

5 parts humour

1 part ego Method:

Stir together in a glass tumbler with a salted rim. Add sadness to taste! Do not overindulge!

Username:

Personality cocktail

From Go-Quiz.com

Right now it's a total crapshoot as to whether or not I'm going to be able to take the 5 home on thursday. Glorious. Yay for snow.

greenman is lovebrought to you by the isLove Generator

What an interesting result. Anyway, maybe I'll be back later, but my life has been mad lately. There are so many good stories to share. I'll be home on the 20th, and having a party on the 21st. You should all call me about it and then attend.

Son of a....!

I feel like I'm once again waiting for that last second touchdown. Except this game involves 'weapons of mass destruction' and the draft. Among many, many other things.

Current count: 249-211, Dubya. WTF, Ohio.

(More to come when sleep has occurred, drinks worn off, and coherency resumed).