An Old Journal Entry

Nature envelopes me and the winds whisper words with no consonants into my ears.
Without consonants the words are meaningless to my head, but my heart understands as I fall asleep.
The sleep is not peaceful.
It is full of images of deep greens and bright blues.
As I allow myself to lose control, a splash of orange flashes through my body.
I have lost control of my being, and the night takes the helm.
The night attempts to control my mind, but my heart never lets go of the self control I dream I own.

Time Change

I love it when the time falls back and I have more time to sleep.
This morning I woke up an hour early, and lay back in bed contemplating when I "should" get up.
My roommate woke up, looked at the clock, swore, and nearly got up.  Then she remembered that she hadn't switched her clock back.
Such is daylight savings.
Last year, when the time sprung forward, I was very careful because I was about to head on a spring break trip, and I didn't want to be late for the vans.
I woke up before the sun had risen, because someone was calling my extension.  The first words from the mysterious person's mouth was, "Happy daylight savings!"
I was late for the bus.
As quickly as I could I ran around the room and grabbed everything I needed.
My roommate had woken up when the phone rang, and she was confused because we had both been sure her phone (our alarm clock) would spring forward with the change.  Apparently it hadn't because she hadn't opened it.
But such is daylight savings.

My Emotional Self

I have had quite a week.  There have been ups and downs and highs and lows.  I have gone running, I have danced, and I have sung.  It has been quite a time.

I am beginning to wonder how I can take myself solely on an emotional journey, and not pull other people in to my questioning.  Is it a bad thing to include other people in my emotional travels?  I don't want to drive people away from me by my questions, and I don't want to frighten people when I gain intensity.  I don't want to become dependent on others either.  I don't want to constantly search.  Especially when I have no idea what I am searching for.  I want something more, but I have no idea what this "more" is, and I don't know what it will look like.

I wonder, wonder, wonder, where can I put all these emotions and thoughts?  Where can I express myself.

How can I just be?

Writers don't "want" to write, they "need" to write

Here is a sting of my thoughts:

Do I need to write, or do I just write because I don't know another way to express myself?

If I was put here for a reason, why do I keep working so hard to understand why I am here?

If we all feel so strongly and as if we need to be unique, why don't we all get along?

All is such an inconclusive term.  What does it mean to be all?  Does that mean there is a limit?

Limits and limiting.  Sheesh.  Is the sky the limit?  Does the sky have a limit?

Where did all this questioning begin?  Why do we question?

Did God want us to prove that there is a God over and over again?

Why do some people fear questioning?  Do they think there isn't an answer, and that's what we should fear?

Sometimes I fear there won't be any more questions.  

2:00 AM When She Calls Me and I'm Still Awake, Can You Help Me Unravel My Latest Mistake--Anna Nalick

I feel like a freshman right now.  It's two o'clock and I'm still awake.  I watched a thriller.  I hung out with friends.  I attended events, and I tried to do homework.

It's been a beautiful and fun weekend.  It's hard to watch time go by so quickly when there are so many things to learn and experience.

Today there was a car show that reminded me of home, and the boats on the river sounded like traffic from home, and the sky beaconed me with arms, reminding me of home, while old airplanes flew through the sky.

I wonder what image of home sticks with me the most.  I think it's the pine trees that frame the sky while I sun bathe on a boat in the ocean.  And as I bathe I watch brightly colored lobster pots drift by.  The wind penetrates through all the layers I put on, but the sky reminds me that I shouldn't worry.  It's Maine, and it's beautiful regardless of the temperature.

I wonder what it is about Maine that has kept Stephen King writing stories from the perspective of Mainers.  Maybe it's something about the people in Maine.

I'm heading off to bed.  Good-night

The Euphrates Institute

Tonight the CMU Team helped the Euphrates Institute put on an event.  The movie, "Encounter Point," was incredible.  I can't believe all that the people in Israel/Palestine have been through.

Everyone who's interested should check out:
http://www.justvision.org/
It's amazing how everybody's actions and voices impact the world.

The Sexist 1940s

Tonight in Radford I watched "To Have and Have Not," a traditional Humphrey Bogart film that portrays Bogie as a real American man.  He has a woman throwing herself at him, but he remains passive while trying to stay out of a political debate in Martinique.  Yet he gives in to both the woman and the cause he is not fighting for.

In this film only a woman with sass and sexiness could catch and keep Bogie's eye.  This woman must be sensuous, beautiful, thin, curvy, and fascinating.  Lauren Bacall is all of this and more.  She is everything a woman could want to be, and she gets the man through her sexual wiles.

This film is a Hemingway story, and therefore is slow moving until the sudden action that peppered the film, and the surprise ending after a plot that involves little growth.  I didn't even realize the movie was ending until "THE END" flashed across the screen.

Regardless of the blatant sexism and the slow moving plot, I had a wonderful time watching this film.  There were about ten of us watching it in Radford, and we were all lying on mattresses (and on each other) that had been brought over by the boys of Buck.  A wonderful and homey atmosphere pervaded the art gallery, and I could feel myself melting into the atmosphere.  Also, there were great musical numbers in the film that featured Bacall's deep and sensuous voice.  I enjoyed myself, and will definitely watch all the black and white movies shown on campus (even if they are on Wednesday night).

It Felt Like....You Know.....Well...

This evening I walked around campus and it took only ten minutes to get from the original women's quad to the men's quad to Davis.

When I was in Davis I felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.  But I couldn't figure out how to explain what I felt while I was emoting.  It was the sort of feeling that can only be described through metaphors and similies.

I felt that emotion that makes one feel heavy, and yet excited, as if a door has opened up and the future is lying expansively in front.  And yet that door is like a mirage, because I know I can see my future, but whenever I get close to the door it is shut.

Tonight I stepped cautiously into the Black Box, as if I would disturb something if I walked too far.  I couldn't seem to make myself cross the threshold.  I just stood there with one foot in and one foot out, and my hand holding the handle.  And yet the darkness was so inviting.  The quietness so gentle and calming.

I could feel that calm, but at the same time I felt as if I would never get back that piece of calm and quiet back that I felt last winter after crying my frustrations with the school, my friends, boys, standards, and anything that was weighing me down out.  There is always calm that comes after a storm. 

Maybe after I experience more places and thoughts I will find the words to express the emotions that I felt when I was alone in the Black Box.

Am I a Feminist?

When I think of the first feminists I usually envision heavy skirts and large petticoats.  I imagine a large conference room in Massachusetts and many women wearing unusual hats and talking in complete sentences devoid of the word "like."

However, reading through Mary Wollstonecraft's "Vindication of the Rights of Women," I realize that I must make alterations to my vision of early feminism.

I now envision a woman wearing a long dress at a table in a little home in England with the sun shining on her paper, and her eyes fervently moving from her current paper to the  other papers that are scattered about her room.

EMO!

I have been very emotional lately.

I wonder if I could pull back and think about how grateful I am before I begin spouting off my personal opinions and vendettas to whoever is at arms length.

I went to an outdoors concert by "Ian McFeron" this evening. Here's the band website: http://www.ianmcferon.com/
They are very talented and fun to watch.  I enjoyed Ian's mix of bluegrass and folk.  It was a beautiful evening, and people of all ages from the town came out to watch.  The bakery kept the street lit up and bouncy.  The atmosphere homey and happy.

Sometimes I wish I had a calling.  Even though it would probably be extremely difficult to follow through and stay true to myself, I think it would be helpful to know what I want from life.  I question and imagine, but have a hard time sticking to anything and feeling satisfied.

Maybe along with being the change I hope to see I could be the beauty I hope to see expressed.

Wood Nymphs in a Field of Goldenrod

Today has been a day of walking through nature, watching people play games, and loving the individuality that comes from the world.

I had a great evening and a sun-filled morning.  

Now it is time for bed.

Hasta manana!

Bake Sale Preparation

The sun dips into the river
Like an Easter egg
Falling into a cup of red dye.
My heart breaks into
A million pieces of
Deep red sunbeams
And the wind picks up my brain
Like a parent
Who embraces her child
After the tantrum has expired,
And sleep wins the battle.
I drift along the bluffs
Searching for the pieces of
My heart on the arms of
The wind that holds my brain
Above the passions I have lost.

It's Past Midnight Again.

The stars press down on my head.
I can't look up because their weight
Pushes the lids of my eyes beneath the horizon
Where the sun promises to rise.

And yet I laugh and am so happy.
What a world of contradictions
A world of girl scout cookie sales
And child prostitution.

Tonight I walked past a blooming lilac bush.
Whenever I feel that contradiction will
Push me into the margins of my meaningful life,
Those beautiful buds remind me to let go

I wonder why I am always searching.
I search for an escape and I search for meaning.
I search for something to believe in.
I search for something to keep me positive.

I want to sleep until I can no longer be tired.
But I worry that if I wait that long then I may forget.
And I think forgetting is worse than
Repressing the memories.

It's Past Midnight!!

I would be a pumpkin right now, not a carriage if I was in a fairy tale.  Thankfully I am not in a fairy tale, but I missed the midnight deadline, and now I have missed my goal of writing a blog a day!  But thankfully, this life is not a fairy tale, and the amount of blogs I have written will probably even out to be close to the deadline I created for myself.

Today was full of activities, and now it is midnight, and I have not finished my homework and I have not completed all of the necessary chores to be ready tomorrow to take on the day.  But I will take on the day.  I will do the best I can, and I will try to talk less.  Or maybe, it's talk more efficiently.

This evening I spent over an hour in the library computer lab with two other English Literature majors talking about requirements and what we need to do to graduate on time.  I was moved to tears through laughter, and I feel so upbeat while talking with my fellow English majors.  I really do love English.  It's a fascinating subject, and it causes wonderful discussions.

Bedtime!

Fill me up before I die in these four walls --Shawn Colvin song titles

Today I felt full and excited and flirty and with possible answers.  Then I contracted when I saw that these emotions make me seem childish and like I need others support which I gain when other people laugh at me for being a girl.  This evening I felt my insides wrenched when I saw real sexual excitement occurring between two people.  These people deserve to fall in love.  But why does it make me feel like I'm missing something?

I remember writing poems last year during winter quarter when everything seemed to be falling in on me.  Did I feel more alive then?  Or do I feel more alive when I run around a friend's garden with a corn stalk and hose in my hands?  Is there any way to escape these questions and emotions?

Maybe I need to stop looking for escapes.  Maybe I need to figure out why I feel the need to escape.  When can I?  I guess I can now.

I read and discover other peoples theories, but have I ever really tried to answer the questions myself?

Why am I so idealistic?  Does my idealism help me understand the world or does it make me lose faith in the world?  Why do other people's theories impact me so much?

Obviously someone had a theory that every person should have education, and someone decided this education should be through an institution, because it's the most cost efficient and equal.  It makes me believe everyone thinks about equality, but that this equality loses its effectiveness when people feel the need to prove it.  Prove what?  Why must everything be proved?

If everything needs to be proved, then maybe I should prove who I am.

My Life As a Play

Today I could imagine my life as play.

I was bouncing up and down and really excited because I finished my paper comparing gender in America to gender in Afghanistan.

When I am at home I don't talk to many people in a day, and everything seems to work out because I have ample time to talk out how I am feeling with my family and I have plenty of time to think about life and how I fit into it.

But here, at college, there isn't time to think about what is going on.  There is time to react and talk quickly and emphatically about what is going on and feel enthusiastic about nothing at all, and to be depressed for no reason at all.

Depression and excitement meld together from day to day, and my life looks like a story with tons of plots and themes, but one overall dilemma.

I am searching for something, but I don't know what this something is.  Maybe I never will, but I know I am searching for something.

I wonder how my act will close at the end of this year.

Sunday Night in the Pub

It's been a quiet day, a loud day, a contemplative day, and a day for ignoring what I'm thinking.  It's been a day of feeling excited and a day of introverted thoughts.  I think I should stop before I try to rival Charles Dickens.  

I went to a church off-campus today and loved it.  It was so beautiful and calming. 

The few minutes I spent in the park in the square was my favorite part of the day.  Grandparents with their dogs mingled with parents with their little children.  The children had no cares or worries.  They expressed themselves so openly and without any reservations.  They reacted purely, but I could tell that many of them were beginning to assess what their parents wanted and decide whether or not to obey.  

Now it's night and I'm in the pub wearing my overalls.  Overalls are amazingly comfy and comforting.  If I had more of them that weren't just work pants, then I would wear them everywhere.  I wouldn't even worry what people think.  I think comfort is an important aspect of clothing.  Now on to the reason I am at college--to learn.

The First Fall Day

Today I was going to do homework and have a me day.  I would really like a day to refresh myself and work on my studies.  However, I don't think that day is going to happen soon.

Instead I ended up having an incredible five hour conversation with a person I don't know very well, and then picked apples with my friends.

It was a beautiful and spectacular day with weather that is perfect for fall.  I look forward to the leaves drastically changing colors and falling all around me.

Now sitting down to open up my books to see what I can accomplish before tomorrow disappears.  Sundays always seem to disappear.

I wish I could capture all the amazing conversations I've had and bottle them up so on days when I feel like the world is closing in on my I could open up those conversations and remember how amazing and beautiful and open every  moment is.  I would really love that.  I suppose that's what our memory is for, and what our mind was created to do.

My Baby Yeti Legs

Whenever I find out that I can't do something I want to rebel.  I want to go out and do something I will most likely regret.

One example is my baby Yeti legs.  I have not shaved my legs in four months.  It began when I had a weird rash, but then I thought, "Why do I care what other people think?"  And I haven't shaved my legs since.  I think I will at some point, and it will probably happen when I feel the convention the world pressing down on me and I feel that the world will not let me rebel to my heart's content.

I guess it's good to discover everything I can't do when I am restrained.  But if I wasn't restrained I wouldn't feel the need to rebel.  When I turned 18 I wanted to try everything, but I think part of my reasoning was based on the restraint I felt by my employer.  She was an amazing and awesome person, but she has a very set conventions.

I hope there aren't rules in heaven.  If there are, I don't think I want to go there.  I want to be myself.  But for some reason that is really hard here.

I don't want to be watched. I don't want to be told what is right and what is wrong.  I think I have a moral compass.  And I think I've listened to it fairly well.

I am not allowed to live off-campus until I am 25, or if I am married, or if I served in the military.  It's comforting to know that there are married couples who have never lived without house hours but are now living together.  It's nice to know they can live together, but I can't live with my sister.

I guess I "chose" this.  Well, I guess it's good to acknowledge that fact, because I want to choose something else.

For now I will just have to comfort myself with my baby yeti legs.

The Friend Puzzle

Love embraces me, and I wonder, how can I have the audacity to complain?

I feel like my body is fragmented into tons of little bits and pieces that I need to glue together.  I decide I should handle this game, and while I glue the pieces onto a flat surface I must accidentally look away because I keep misplacing pieces.  The game gets too intense!  So I decide to sleep and figure out the end of the puzzle game in the morning.

Once the morning sun rises into the sky and I wake up, I notice that the puzzle has changed shape.

How is this possible?

But it is.  Somehow it is.  And somehow we all understand.

Today was a jumble of emotions and reactions.

I talked about friends.  I talked about standards and morals.  I talked out my thoughts.  I talked to figure out this puzzle.

Seeing friends that I have known for nearly a year, but who have come and gone in my experience, I realize exactly how tender life is.  It is unknowing, and it is experimenting.  It is full of surprises.

Yet I want to belong to someone.  I want a friend I can depend on being in my experience.  Is it only a human wish?  

Can this puzzle every be solved?

Hocus Pocus

Me gusta nadar en una piscina.  This evening I watched Glee and then soaked in the hot tub with my roomie and ex-roomie.  It was a lot of fun to laugh and remember how far I have come since last year.

My eyes keep losing focus causing my mind to drift to unanswered questions.  Questions that keep returning to my brain.  Questions that won't let me be.  I want to fall into the sky and let the clouds engulf my mind.  I want to feel the cool vapors of the clouds.  Maybe then my head would cool enough to let me see all sides of every event.  Then maybe I could judge whether my decisions are intelligent or just necessary steps to get to some unknown goal.

Alternative/independent music echos around the chambers of my brain.  The words and tunes excite emotions, and they relax my muscles.  They bounce and bump into memories and past decisions.  They push me up to clouds.  Now I will let the clouds take over my brain.

Good-night.

New Goals

Ok.  I have a new goal.  I am going to write an entry every day.  Writing this out makes it feel official, and it is also intimidating, because there will probably be days when I cannot get internet access or I am hiking in the woods without my computer for a week.  Anyway, my goal is to post an entry every day.

I feel burned out and it is only the third week of school.  I have joined too many things, and I am not fulfilling my duties.  Therefore I am going to drop a few things and try to feel ok about it.

I get tired of icebreakers, and therefore I am trying to avoid them as a club president.  But I'm starting to realize how they really bond a group together.  They also make me frustrated that I seem to be inept at saying what I am thinking.  Words come out of my mouth, but without a backspace bar I begin to feel naked and exposed.  I question how this can really be what I think.

Why do people seem to talk in superlatives?  I guess the question that is more to the point is how I can speak in superlatives.

Life goals.  I think I need to work on those goals.

So Long, So Wrong

I feel a connection to Alison Krauss right now.  I have contemplated leaving college so many times.  I wonder if I have a dissatisfaction bug, or if I really should be doing something else.  I think I should try to connect to sports.  Then I might learn how to persevere when it seems like I cannot go on.

Alison Krauss never finished high school or college, and she appears to be doing well monetarily.  I don't know how she feels about her unusual school experience and not sticking in the system.  Regardless, she has stayed with music and works with lots of amazingly talented musicians, like herself.  I guess that's the answer.  She has talent.

In both middle school and high school I was told by people that "You are going to go somewhere" or to "Just wait, you're going to do amazing things."  Did they just say this to keep me from questioning the point?  I don't think I've ever felt like I fit in the education mold even though teachers have loved me, and I enjoy learning and doing homework.

A friend of mine was skyping with me last night, and he wondered aloud if I would be happy anywhere.  Well, if I'm not going to be happy anywhere, then I'll sure have the opportunity to see a lot of the world.

Honestly, who knows?

New York's Not My Home

Today I spent the afternoon/early evening on a dock watching the sun sparkle on the water and surround the geese and ducks.  The marina was full of swanky boats that looked like homes rather than vessels to explore the water.

While I was dangling my feet in the water I began thinking about Jim Croce's song, New York's Not My Home.  I think that describes the way I feel right now.  I kept rerunning the line, ""Cause I know that I've gotta get outta here,  I'm so alone, Don't you know that I've gotta get outta here, 'Cause New York's not my home."  If you replace the word New York with Alton, then that whole phrase corresponds to my feelings.

I know it's important to be grateful, and I really am happy to be here, but I like the smell of the ocean and the breeze that twists your insides because it's just so wonderful and beautiful and penetrating.  I think this happens to me every time I leave home for school.  Oh well.  School's not my home.

Last Day of Vacation Blues

This is it.  This is my last night of vacation until November.  I keep reminiscing.  Freshman year is completely over, and sophomore year is truly commencing.

Changes are coming, and new dreams are rising and forming.  I can feel the differences this fall.  I feel more stable even though I know there will be crying and emotional ups and downs.  I think those are only normal.

I'm very happy with my dorm.  It's chill and full of very different people who all want to be here.  Today the house board got to bond over games held in three different places on campus.  It was really neat, because we got to talk and strategize together working toward a common goal.  I definitely liked playing games outside.

"You've got me wondering why I'm under this great big sky..." KT Tunstall

Oh How the Rain Changes Life

It is 4:45am, and I am still awake.  Well, I fell asleep for an hour or two in Rackham's living room, but I'm awake now.  It's has been such an amazing day with emotions on every end of the spectrum.

I have spent a lot of time wet today.  I swam at the pool for over 2 hours, and then ran and played in the rain for at least an hour (barefoot of course).

It's funny how this day has unfolded, because I wasn't going to act childish.  I thought I had already conducted so many stupid and ridiculous antics last year that I am through with these behaviors.  I guess I'm not.  I'm beginning to think it's important to have a little bit of child in me.  And maybe living to my highest morals doesn't mean being boring and not relatable.  I still have a lot to figure out, but I hope I am getting closer.

Meantime, I am getting closer to declaring my major.  I am also getting closer to solidifying my schedule, and life is good.

P.S. LaSalle Bakery is amazing.  It has a great atmosphere and lattes.  I suggest visiting it if you are in the area.

Williams Memories

Tonight I walked into Williams Cottage to make cookies with some friends.  I didn't make the cookies because it was past 10pm by the time I got to Williams, and I don't want to be tired tomorrow for moral reasoning.  It's really no fun when you feel like you're going to fall asleep and the world drifts in and out of focus.

Anyway, the moment I walked into Williams I was flooded with memories.  The smells, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the rooms all held me in reminiscence.  I remember the first night I saw Williams, and experienced its kitchen with bread baked by my one-act director and received a hug from my co-actor before things became weird.  I remember the two nights I spent in their during winter quarter, and the love and drama and pain I felt.  

I sometimes find it hard to know how to feel, to act, and speak.  Life gets moving so fast that it's hard to pull back and let myself remember and let go.  It's hard to forget those moments I felt so alive and so small. Those moments hold me so tightly that I forget how to move on.  I remember feeling that I wasn't odd and unusual when I met my director.  I felt like I was lovable during the one-act.  However, that was yesterday, and today is a new day filled with opportunities to express love and be lovable.  It takes a lot of courage.

p.s. St. Charles is beautiful when the sky is slate grey and the clouds keep you wary about leaving the shop you have huddled in to escape the chill of the streets.  It's especially fun when experienced with a friend :).  

Late Night Moral Reasoning

What a day.  It both began and ended with moral reasoning, the class that I am attending.  Well, it's not really a class.  It's more of a mandatory time spent talking with other people from my dorm and my Resident Counselor about morals and our understanding of our morals.

Tonight we watched "He's Just Not That Into You."  It was so much fun to watch the movie with 5 other girls and 6 boys.  The boys agreed with the advice the main girl, Gigi, received from Alex.  It is true that if a guy wants a relationship he will make it happen.  It's good to know that the movies do portray truths.

My RC asked us at the end of the movie if we like drama.  I said I enjoy theater, and then I thought about whether I do like drama.  It's a simple question, but it has made me wonder whether I really do or do not like the drama that ensues when you don't know how someone feels about you, and the drama that ensues when you are keeping a relationship secret, or any other type of personal drama.  I think I like drama with happy endings.  I don't think anyone likes drama where they are unhappy at the end of the ordeal and other people are bleeding.

It's so difficult to figure out morals.  I wonder all the time whether I am living by my highest morals and if I feel alright about who I am and the choices I make.  I think this class has made me wonder more about what I believe and who I am than my usual musings.  I hope I have the courage to live up to my expectations.  

The First 24 Hours

I have officially been at college for over 24 hours, and what a jam-packed time it has been.  Over the summer everything was quiet and calculated, and I forgot how much happens at school and how many friends I have that enjoy a good adventure.  I also forgot that when there is a lot less privacy, and the emotion I feel that I need to become this person so other people can relate to me.  The feeling may be more related to the thought that I must remain the person I was last year, but I feel like things in my life have changed.

During this past day I have made my room look like a hurricane raced across it (maybe this is where Hurricane Earl hit), have met with my friends, and have attended the Japanese Festival at the Botanical Garden.

The Japanese Festival was incredible!  The last time I went to this festival I was 4 years old.  My parents were having marital issues, and my mom decided to visit her sister in St. Louis over Labor Day weekend.  I remembered the huge golden fishes, the large water display I could walk on, and Japanese lanterns.  Otherwise the greatest memory I have is walking a lot and wanting to stop and sit down with a big bottle of water.

Today I was with Natious at the gardens.  He brought me to see the drummers and Sumo wrestlers.  I must admit the wrestlers were very intimidating, especially the 400 pound one.  He was enormous!  I wonder what it would feel like to have a breast size like him.

To back track, when I was on the road on Sunday the sound of the road bumped and pounded in my head.  I kept thinking that the sound wanted me to remember, reminisce, regret, and repress my life because on the road the past doesn't matter and regrets are unnecessary.  The necessary thought is what's happening now, and the people I see here.

Here's a little fun fact to end this entry.  On Saturday I decided to keep driving even after the sun had set although I knew it would be smart to stop driving sooner rather then later.  I went through customs and entered Michigan at 10:30pm, and at 11 stopped for the night.  Apparently sketchy motels don't follow their own policies, because I am not 21 and the motel I stopped at had a tacked up policy inside the office that clearly stated you must be 21 to rent a room.  I even had to show my ID, but it didn't seem to phase the foreign lady who gave me the key card to my room.  I must admit I was most grateful that she didn't think it was important to turn me away because I am 20 years old.  I decided to pay with cash at this motel.

Losing myself in Montreal

This morning I headed out of the beautiful state of Maine to experience a new part of the country before engulfing myself in classes.  Upstate Maine is incredible.  The mountains look like giants lying on their backs and sunning their enormous pot bellies.

My first adventure began when I hit the road.  My first stop was Rockland to take some pictures.  Well, that adventure ended with a scraped shin and toe.

The second adventure occurred when I tried to park my car in Montreal.  I had to pay $16 for the one hour I parked in this lot that I somehow managed to find when I discovered I have no idea how Montreal's roads work and was thoroughly lost.  It also was extremely difficult/ impossible to direct myself in a province that only has signs in French when I can hardly understand simple Spanish conjugates.

Needless to say, it was an adventurous day and I am enjoying sitting still without worrying about how much money my car is costing me.

Also, I remembered that when I begin eating after not for many hours I want to consume exorbitant amounts of food.