The Hunt is On

"TIMBER!"

I finally had the opportunity to use this word for its true purpose. This holiday season my family and I journeyed up into the magical Santa Cruz Mountains to chop down a Christmas tree. Ears popping with the altitude, and nose burning in the cold I trudged through the mud as the heavy fog turned to a light rain. Misty Mountain Hop played in my head. Every tree was perfect. How could we choose? We spent around an hour debating the tiniest details of a tree until no one cared anymore, so long as we went home with one. We finally agreed to a spectacular 14 ft. tall tree. It was a beauty! Sadly, we brought it home and realized that it would not fit in the house. It had to be cut.

It was heart breaking to watch it dwindle away as more and more of the trunk and its branches fell, severed, to the floor. By the time it made it to the living room and nestled in by the fire with the rest of us, it looked like it could have been any other tree from the lot. It stood only half of its original size, but we knew it was ours- our glorious tree.

A Different Kind of Traveler

A very good friend of mine, who is a U.S. Marine, has just returned from his first tour of Afghanistan. I am overjoyed! Thankfully he is healthy and unharmed.

I asked him if he learned a foreign language while overseas and he said that, yes he had in fact learned a few useful phrases. Here are the examples of the things that he learned how to say:

Stop.
Raise your arms.
Wait here.
Go away, now.

A big difference from the typical phrases that sight-seers pick up! No hellos, good-byes, pleases or thank-yous here! It was unexpected, but after a bit of thought, I was not surprised to hear it. I suppose that when people have different reasons for leaving home, then they discover different learning opportunities.

Thank you, Chris. You are my hero <3

A Must See

When in San Francisco, a fantastic (and free!) 360 degree viewing point is sitting atop the DeYoung Museum: the Nancy B. and Jake L. Hamon Tower. It even has an elevator to take you to the top! Nine flights of stairs would just be far too many to squeeze into an action-packed day in the city.

Vanity Has a Home

After my sister sent me an article from CBS News reporting on the findings of a recent survey of several American cities, I wanted to confirm these findings for you in the best way I know how- photo evidence.

Please see this link: http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/10/07/national/main5368922.shtml

for the article titled, "Survey: Miami Full of Hot, Dumb People". Actually, the title pretty much sums it up if you don't feel like following the link. Anywhoo, I would like to share with you an experience along these lines, at least in terms of the hotness.

You see I spent the duration of my four year college degree in Miami and wondered why it was that so many of the students attended class in attire fitting of the nightclubs. Seriously, it's 10am; I know you are not going partying on South Beach right after this class, and I am pretty sure that you have time to go home and change first. So, was the body glitter really necessary? (that goes for men and women, mind you) It just seemed like a lot of effort for the morning routine. But that's just it- the residents of Miami put a lot of effort, a lot of value, and a lot of pride into their appearance. Now don't get me wrong- It's not always a bad thing! They just have a style of their own. Let's take a look, shall we?

Here is a photo taken at a PeeWee football game. We have a woman, well groomed, hair flattened, nails done, shirt tied up (with a scarf to keep her warm!...in 80 degree weather), flashin' rhinestones on her belt. She looked good! But perhaps a little over done for a PeeWee game.

Especially standing next to this guy: shirt, shorts, fuzzy wig. Now that's football.

I saw later, though, that the thing that really made her all that is Miami fashion:

The Thong Tan. No. No thong. Just the tan line.

Oh, my.

Ghost Hunting

While staying just outside Oxnard with my best friend and one of her former travel buddies, we got an inside look at California State University at Channel Islands.

While the school is not in fact on the islands, it has lots of history to offer a curious traveler. Our lovely hostess and her roommate are both students here and they were happy to give the tour, in both the day light AND in the darkness of the night.

Why the night? Because this is no ordinary establishment. It was once ... a PSYCO WARD!! DUN DUN DUN

Seriously.

This charming school nestled in the rolling hills of Southern California was one a psyciatric hospital hidden away so that the rest of society didn't have to think about its misfits. Camarillo State Hospital to be exact. I'm not even joking! Check it out- they still have this sign on the front door of the main building because they have kept all of the original facilities.

That's right its still all of the same old Spanish-style buildings. The administration building once used to register the mentally ill patients is now used to register new students. The same rooms where the patients slept after their families abandoned them at the loony bin are now the dormitories for the students. The building once used to care for unstable children is now the day care for CSUCI students' kids. And yes, psychology is the most popular major at this school. Ironic? Yes. Spooky? DEFINITELY. Crazy? Oh Ya- I mean... ahem.

The transition was so recent that some of the buildings still have that hospital smell to them. *Shivers* Actually, the current library stands where the main hospital once was. The girls tell me that when they first arrived at school the basement of the library was still accessible and mostly untouched! For those who don't know, the basement of the hospital serves as the morgue. How could you study knowing that one floor below there remains walls lined with body freezers and rooms filled with examination tables that stand over floors with drains in them. Ya, those drains were for blood. OoOoOooo... In the early years some freshman hazing at this school included shoving the poor, frightened freshmen into the body freezers down there and shutting the door. Welcome to CSUCI!

No wonder I've never heard of this school.

I tried to let the past of the campus go and think, "This is kind of a nice place, would be that bad living here?" That is until I did some research. Could I sleep in the same room where a patient once lived? A patient that walked down the hall to his room dragging shackles from his ankles after receiving treatment. Treatments like mind numbing drugs or shock therapy so intense that the patient kept a Kotex in his mouth so that he wouldn't crush his own teeth with the power surge rushing through his body. Then, off to bed! Uhh, no. Thanks.

Now I see why these girls live in an apartment off campus.

But really. How creepy is this place? They actually came here to film that movie "The Ring" -ya. See that structure on top of that hill up there? That's the well from the movie, you know, where the scary little girl lives or whatever. Yep. Living at CSUCI would pretty much be like living with that girl from the "The Ring" ...and pretty much every other scary movie ever made, because let's face it, an abandoned psycho ward makes a great premise.

Alright, alright, alright. Enough with the ghost stories. Let's show some respect now.

Of course, this is California, and there is beauty to be held everywhere. I got a great shot over the reflection pool as the sun was going down.

And then came the darkness...

Don't know where to begin, except that I'm glad that it's over.

Who knew that so many sleazy guys could fit into such a small space as Campbell? Why is there such a high concentration of them? Here is a recap of my night out with a girlfriend:

Appetizer at Rock Bottom (this name is appropriate for the whole town)

Dinner at some pizza place where immediately a drunk man thrusts his single friend toward our table to make conversation; they eventually ask the waiter for a round of the deadliest drink available, buy a round and sleazeball #1 lifts his shot glass to say, "here's to tits" (that man finished the night wearing no shirt)

Dancing at the next bar over. We have to wait in line for no apparent reason; receive hand stamp, enter and leave immediately to drop coats in the car; return only to wait in line again (why the hand stamp, then?). My conversation with the bouncer at the door:
*bouncer reads my shirt featuring the Incredible Hulk: "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."
Me: "True story."
Bouncer: "Ya, I only like an angry girl when she has a gag in her mouth."
Me: "Ew." I enter the bar.

Encounters with various men:
*man approaches extending his drink to me
Me: "No, thanks."
Man: "You don't drink? Where is your drink?"
Me: "No, I am driving home."
Man: "May I buy you a drink?"
Me: "No. Thanks."
Man: "What if I get you a beer that is completely unopened?"
Me: "No. Thank you."
Man: "Where are you from?"
Me: "Here. Where are you from?"
Man: "Milpitas."
Me: "Where is your accent from?"
Man: "Guess!" (side note: I hate this game.)
Me: "Peru."
Man: "No. Israel! *pause* May I have your number?"
Me: "No."
Man: "No?"
Me: "No."
Man: "Ok, I am going back to my friends, then." *he leaves
{Did he really think it was going to be that easy? He didn't even ask for a dance first.}

Another man:
Him: "Do you have a drink?"
Me: "No."
Him: "You don't drink?"
Me: "No, I am driving home."
Him: "So, you will have no alcohol?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Oh." *he turns on his heal and leaves without even closing the conversation. I guess talking to a sober girl is clearly a waste of his time.

This went on for hours. I am SO glad to be home.
BTW: I LOVE THE WORD NO! :D

Close but No Cigar

My best friend in the whole world is Danish, and since the first grade when we met, we agreed that we would travel to Denmark together. Well, we have yet to make that happen, but we visited the next closest spot (figuratively and physically): Solvang. This cute little coastal town is a Danish city right here in California. Adorable. I get the feeling, though, that Denmark will be much more fulfilling.