The Internet: Writer Friend or Foe?

I want to start off by saying: I’m technically of the computer generation.  My school was one of the ground-breakers that started putting in computer labs in the mid to late 90s.  So—once again…technically—I know how the darn things work.  That being said, my inner-octogenarian occasionally breaks free and wonders what’s so great about the Internet, dagnabbit!  Never is my old-lady-patience tested more than during NaNoWriMo season.  While I love being able to entrust my (frankly awesome) writing (that every publisher EVER should DEFINITELY want to buy) to my faithful USB, there are times I want to throw my computer out the window.

The real problem is the Internet.  While this series of tubes is wonderful for updating my word count and doing research for my book, it’s also an incredible time-suck. 

I’m sure everyone knows this, but please—this is my blog, save your stunning(ly obvious) revelations for your own.

For me, the main culprit is Pinterest.  It’s not like I’m even getting good ideas for my novel, crafts, or anything else productive.  Mostly, I’m pinning funny things and Doctor Who paraphernalia.  Without even realizing it, I’ll have gone through 40-50 pins, and my afternoon has disappeared like dandelion seeds on the wind.

Facebook is another one of those things pulling focus.  I’m more than ready to blame Buzzfeed for most of my FB time.  Sure, sure, there are friends and family to Poke, but Buzzfeed has an amazing amount of hilarious subjects, quizzes, and videos.  (Though no one wants to get me started on their whole Midwest food video.  Seriously guys?  It’s in the freaking USA.  We’re not a bloody foreign country like all the other videos posted!).

Recently, my newest click-bait is Twitter.  The power of #NaNoWriMo has gone to my head.  It’s doubled my followers!  I’m like a Twitter Goddess…with SUPER limited powers.  I’m like the undersecretary for Astraeous of Twitter.  Those of you who wish to check my followers, the answer is: Yes, I do count the spam.  Thank you VERY MUCH.  And in case you wondering, my handle is @RampagingKelpie.

Occasionally I wonder…did writers before the Internet have it easier when it came to putting words on paper?  Think of how much easier it must have been to shut out the world before this World Wide Web reared its little head.  Not to mention how much writers must have contributed to bookstores—and other authors—when purchasing research materials.  I’m sure the sweet-spot of productivity must have been the early 90s.  When the word processor was alive and well, but only Minesweeper and Snake could pull focus—unless you were willing to wait the ten minutes for the first vestiges of the Internet to squeal and squawk to life.

Mostly, however, I have a feeling most of my problems stem from my magpie-like attention span. 

“Let’s see, I’ve gotten myself in a sticky situation.  I’ll just Google ‘How to escape a raging volcano’ and see if that helps me get my main characters out of trouble.  Oh…hey…is that a funny cat video?”

And then I’m lost in the glories of YouTube or something equally time-sucky.  Yes, I suppose I must admit that I can only blame the Internet for so long.  In all likelihood, even if I lived before any writing machines were invented, I’d probably still find something to distract me.  However, to live in such a world would mean giving up my Twitter followers.  And then, where would those 17 people/companies be?  Plus, who could expect me to have an accurate accounting of my word count without my beloved NaNoWriMo?

Okay, back to vainly attempting to stay on track with my word count for Jamarian Days.  

Hasta luego, bis dann, szia, and all that jazz!

When the Words Won't Come

I’ve been very proud of myself and my posting skills lately.  This marks my seventh post in 2014, my second consecutive month of posting, and even my third post in one week.  While I did get up to 7 in 2012…I really had to squeeze that seventh one in under the wire.  I’ve said before that I like to talk, and those who know me would most likely scoff and say “It’s like she thinks she gets paid a penny a word.”  So it must seem strange to most people that I don’t post more, either here, Facebook, or on Twitter (Though since the last one only gives me 140 characters, I feel a little more justified with limited Twitterpation).

There are many reasons behind it, I suppose.  The first is that I really do feel guilty on occasion that I sit here typing away on my blog (or staring mindlessly at social media for hours on end) when I really should be finishing novel number two.  However, I’ll back down on the guilt for a moment, because I finally got a couple of people to read through number one and give me some pointers…and just finished the rewrite last week.  I’m also feeling rather accomplished at finishing a promising children’s book.  Now I just need to find an illustrator.  Technically, I have one, but she seems to be busy working a full time job and spending her free time with the man she loves.  Really, the selfishness of some people ;)

However, my main reasoning behind my erratic posting falls under the category of “Does this really need to be out there for everyone to see?”  While I’m more than happy to post silly personality quizzes on Facebook--as well as the occasional heart-felt and/or funny story stolen from another person/webpage--I prefer to keep my personal business personal.  One of my mom’s favorite sayings goes a little like this: “You don’t air your dirty laundry in public.”  That’s an axiom I live by, because while I won’t necessarily go sobbing in a corner if I lose a FB friend over a comment I’ve made, it doesn’t mean I wish to throw out every spare thought and opinion that comes my way.  I believe that everything we say and do—once it’s out in the universe—can’t be taken back.  This is especially true for writers putting pen to paper (or these days, pixels on a screen).  As much as I love to bask in my own awesomeness, even I must admit that not every thought that worms its way to the surface is a gem.  And, just because it’s my opinion doesn’t mean it’s correct—or even valid.  Therefore, I try to choose my words with care and deliberation when I’m online.  (This rarely happens in real life, wherein I suffer from an almost fatal case of foot-in-mouth disease).  That doesn’t mean I haven’t posted things I regret, just that I try to mitigate those occurrences as much as possible.

With this in mind, there is the small matter of coming up with good ideas.  (All former teachers, please try to keep your good opinion of me—if ever you had one—when reading the next part).  When I was in school, I would spend most of the class period with my mind so far away from the topic at hand, that it’s surprising I didn’t actually lose my mind.  (Especially when I'm wont to lose most everything else I let out of my sight).  Instead, I would pick up on one part (or sometimes a few parts) of what the teacher was discussing and play the ‘what if’ game.  Then I would turn that 'what if' into a story and just start writing from the beginning.  Though I’ve been told that most people map out a full outline before starting, this always seemed to work best for me.  Now however, I’m no longer in school and I don’t have what roughly constitutes 3 hours each day to mess around with writing.  Instead, I take my quiet moments where I can to hash out thoughts, and write things down wherever I find a spare moment.  Nowadays, the thinking usually happens while mowing my parents’ lawn.  While I’m on the mower, I have 3 hours in which I must be silent…or at least be willing to look like a complete nutcase when I’m creating a dialogue between two characters.  And, yes, that does sometimes happen.

This doesn’t mean I spend all my time thinking about story lines, character development, or even blog ideas.  Sometimes I take those 3 hours to just let ideas vaguely pass in and out of my mind without too much effort put into remembering them or following them to any conclusion—logical or otherwise.  On occasion, those passive thoughts will turn into something I use later.  More often they’re just something that keeps my mind occupied while I mow, so I don’t fall asleep with the blades engaged.  So please understand that while I am indeed a procrastinating novelist...it is not for want of ideas or attention.  Rather it is an effort toward using (what I hope are) the good ideas, and (trying) to avoid the negative attention.

This One's for Dad

Moths thread through the spotlights, overseeing a ballet of flying shot and shattered clay. Five men stand ready at their stations, patiently waiting for their turn at the brilliant target.
"Pull!" one shouts, finally secure in the feel of the stock against his shoulder and his sight on the bead.
The slightest touch of his finger sends forth a violent explosion of plastic and metal. The shot hurdles forward at terrible speed to find the clay disc flying through the air. It shatters into hundreds of pieces, giving the shooter a thrill of success.

This is the most basic expression of the Second Amendment.
This is the right to bear arms.
This is trap shooting.

When people hear about the NRA or people protesting stricter gun laws, they imagine ignorant, toothless, rednecks who enjoy the company of their siblings a bit too much. This is a pedantic caricature of the people who enjoy this sport. I'll admit, a few of these men may be behind in their dental upkeep, but they are kind, responsible, funny, Godly men (usually).

That doesn't mean they can't be a bit rude and crude at times, but their ribbing is good-natured and evenly dispersed. Laughter is as common as gunshot, though the men try not to break each other's concentration during the actual shooting.  My dad recently broke his ankle, and the comments are equal parts giving him a hard time about it, and offering any and all assistance he needs between now and harvest.  These men take the “I’ll give you the shirt off my back” mentality almost literally.

It's interesting watching the various shooting styles these men possess. Most keep it simple and just follow the target. Others end their turn with a flourish that makes me worry for the time their shot gets a little delayed. My favorite is the guy who kicks his back foot up and lunges forward a little, as though it is him, not the explosion of gun powder and sparks, that propels the shot forward.

The men also have several different reactions to their failures. The triumphs are almost all celebrated with a small smile and return of concentration. Most of the men react to defeats with only a tightening of the lips and a grim shake of the head.  Some mutter a few curses under their breath and grip their gun a little harder on the next round.  And I know of one who, in his younger days, would react to a streak of missed birds by breaking open the gun to violently eject the spent shell, snap it back together, and then bounce the stock of the gun as hard as he could on the concrete.  All this while spewing forth a stream of vitriol that could make some of the truckers blush and thank the good Lord their earmuffs kept them from hearing most of what was said.  Even this man (who may or may not definitely be my father) never got angry at anyone else, only worked to better himself with every opportunity.

My dad started bringing my sister and I to the Gun Club when we each reached the age of six or seven.  Some of you may gasp in horror at the thought of bringing such young children to be audience to a sport that is literally all about guns.  However, you people can take a deep breath and relax.  I won't say my sister or I (especially I) were particularly mature for children our age, but that doesn't mean we didn't have a healthy respect for the potentially deadly qualities of what our father was doing.  Dad carefully pointed out what we could and could not touch while at the Gun Club. There was “ could not” in most of those conversations.  There was also a clear line where we couldn't cross whether the men were shooting or not.  While I won't credit my sister and I with an overabundance of maturity, we were intelligent enough to know when Dad meant business, because our normally quiet father would achieve some impressive volume if we disobeyed.  Not to mention it takes a severe lack of survival instinct to cross over into the shooting area while trap is being shot.

Those times at the Gun Club were some of my favorite memories growing up.  I never lacked for stray uncles, and there were even a few women on occasion.  Some of the other men in the club brought their own children, and my sister and I were able to entertain, and in turn be entertained, by others.  In fact, I would say that mitigated most of the danger in my childhood.  Though vast amounts of time spent with my sister could sometimes be life threatening for me even without projectile weapons at the ready.  Obviously it was never my fault when we fought, but that's a story for another day. (Don't listen to any comments that say otherwise, by the way--that includes you, mom).  The Gun Club was the first place I experienced a crush on an older boy.  He was a whole two years older than me, which basically made him too far out of my reach, but perfect for my sister.  Which may explain some of that sibling rivalry ;)  Mostly though, trips to the Gun Club were times I got to spend with my dad.  It was also some of the few times my sister and I got along for longer periods of time.

I stopped going to the Gun Club when I was around twelve, because even with this abundance of 'uncles’--or even a first crush--there wasn't enough to keep me occupied while dad shot anymore.  It has only been in the last couple of months that I've started intermittently going back with my dad.  I shot a couple of times around the time I was 12 and decided not to go back, but I straight up sucked and that may have been part of the reason I stopped.  I haven't really gotten any better, but fifteen years later, I'm more willing to approach my lack of skill with some pragmatism.  The only way to get better is to try, though that is certainly the more frustrating approach :P

I won’t go into my views on gun laws either pro or con.  Mostly because I’m not phishing for trolls, but also because I admittedly don’t keep up on politics much at all.  If Jon Stewart covers it, I’ll give it a listen, but unless it’s a topic about which I’m truly interested and willing to do the research in other news sources to find out every side of the issue, I don’t keep up on politics.  Though if you do happen to go to a gun club with a Liberal outlook on life, be prepared to get offended on occasion, no matter how much news and politics you follow ;)

Regardless of the politics, visiting the Gun Club is still fun and fascinating to watch.  There truly is poetry and skill in this sport, and anything that gives my dad this level of enjoyment is always a great idea in my opinion.  (Though when the guys try to talk to me about their gauge, shot weight, or any other technical aspects, I start talking about Doctor Who so we’re all equally confused.)

Budapest: A Teaching and Learning Experience

For those of you who keep up with this procrastinating novelist, you’ll know that I recently traveled to Budapest, Hungary a few weeks ago.  For those of you who know me, you won’t be surprised it took me this long to write about it.  It was a wonderful experience, full of beautiful sights, warm and wonderful people, and some amazing students.  I’ve included pictures of the parliament building, the Szechenyi Baths, the Chain Bridge at night, and a group photo of my class (in that order on the page).  

The Baths were so wonderful and relaxing, I never wanted to leave!  And my students were so wonderful, I wish I could have spent more time there (those poor kids got a lot of English vocabulary thrown at them in a 5-day span.)  I’m only sad that I didn’t get a picture of my host family, who were both fun and informative ;)  I stayed with a young couple (Nora and Robert) with two small children—one was just over one (Balint), and the other was three (Andris).  Those were two extremely adorable kids!

Traveling is always an interesting experience in which one packs way more activities into a day than one is really prepared for.  By the time I left (super freaking) early on a Saturday morning—seven days after arriving—I thought my legs were going to fall off.  But I didn’t really mind, because I now have a new experience and a new country under my belt.

In regards to this, I want to focus a large part on my experience teaching English.  I had a lovely time several months ago observing one of my favorite former high school teachers as part of a practical section in a teaching class I took spring semester.  Based on that short experience, I knew teaching could be a tough but rewarding job—though it did make me rethink the age-level I would want to teach.  However, teaching (or in my case, observing) a class full of 14 and 15-year-olds the finer aspects of the English language is vastly different from teaching that same age-group English basically from scratch.

The most terrifying part of this event was that I (and really most of us on the mission trip) went into this with absolutely no training and very little indication of what we could expect.  Admittedly, that was also part of the fun.  I think I learned as much in those five days as my students.  I started out with seven girls in my class, and they all had varying levels of English proficiency.  Yet, I never got a clear indication of who could speak at what level…because these were seven extremely quiet girls.  As someone who finds it hard not to talk during every moment of the day, this created a certain level of difficulty for me.  I said daily prayers of thanks for Boti, that guy looking cool in the group photo below, who volunteered as my translator.  (That poor guy got a lot more English thrown at him than he expected, too)  I didn’t find out until the third day that one of the girls in my class had never learned any English, and I was told by the person translating for me that she felt bad that she couldn’t answer me when I asked her a question.  This, in turn, made me feel awful, so I tried to make her understand that all I wanted was her best effort, and I would never be disappointed with a wrong answer so long as she was learning something.  I’m not sure if that got across the language barrier, but I hope it did.  My real break in the ice came on the fourth day when I discovered a Whovian in my classroom.  That was an amazing revelation—not only because Doctor Who is the absolute best, but because that girl went from quiet to non-stop chatter in seconds flat.  I was most impressed when she quoted an entire monologue from Series 5 in English…which is something I sure can’t do, even though I speak the language.  She even ended up translating for many of the other students who were struggling to keep up with my own non-stop chatter.  It just goes to show that Doctor Who is universal, and really can solve pretty much every problem ;)

There were a few aspects of teaching English in a foreign country that I hadn’t anticipated.  The first was that I noticed a subtle break-down of my own English skills.  Even as someone who likes to focus on grammar (though I’m sure those who are better versed could find hundreds of errors in my writing…not to mention my speech), I bent every rule I could think of to make myself understood.  This was also interesting as someone who constantly uses complicated words.  I went from saying things like “verbose” to “lots of words.”  That was an unexpected quandary for me.  I had to repurpose my vocabulary so I wouldn’t confuse the heck out of both my students and the people of the church.  However, the most unexpected problem I found was that, despite the many other foreign countries I’ve traveled to, once I modified my speech to keep everything as simple as possible, I subconsciously expected everyone to whom I spoke to be able to understand what I was saying.  I never thought that I’d be one of those people who expected everyone to know my language no matter to what country I traveled.  And I’m not entirely convinced that was what was happening.  The closest I can get to explaining the situation is to tell you all about Andris.  He was a normal 3-year-old.  He spoke constantly on topics that he found to be of great interest…except he only knew Hungarian, and by the time I had met him I had only learned how to say “yes” and “I don’t understand” in his language.  Needless to say, we did not have long conversations.  But, the reason I bring Andris up is because there was no concept in his young mind that would let him comprehend the fact that I couldn’t understand him.  He figured out something was wrong, but his solution was to constantly ask me “What is this called?” in Hungarian.  Once his mom translated, I would answer by giving him the English word for whatever he pointed at.  When I did so, he would giggle a little, as if to say: “Silly lady, that’s not what that’s called.”  Now, intellectually, I know that not everyone speaks English—nor do I expect them to.  However, with absolutely no Hungarian skills other than the basics, I was at a loss for how to make myself understood except to keep trying simpler words and phrases, much like Andris.  In the end, I had to rely on my severely limited Hungarian, their slightly more advanced English, and lots of hand gestures.  I’m so grateful that the people of the church and school were willing to put up with me butchering their language and kept an open mind when I just tried the same context with different words and lots of non-ASL approved sign language. 

Overall, I loved my time in Budapest—both the tourist bits and the teaching.  I got a lot of new Facebook friends who post things in Hungarian that makes me think, “I really need to start learning this language.”  And, I’ve got hundreds of pictures to share (some of which are sitting on my computer waiting to be posted).  I hope to go back…a wish I hold for all of the countries I’ve visited.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

There is one part of traveling that I would certainly change if I could.  That would be the excessive wait times between flights.  Then again, the long flight times are also a major pain in the bum.  Really, is it too much to ask for some Star Trek-level technology that would allow for instantaneous transportation?  Then again, there are some amazing chances for people watching.  Right now, my attention is split between a woman with blond dreads and multiple tattoos, and a little girl and her mother.  Frankly, the woman is just a lot of fun to occasionally stare at.  The little girl is more actively entertaining.  Her mother attempted to take a picture in front of the large plane getting ready to board, but the kid decided her time would be better served running back and forth in front of the window instead.  I can’t say that I really blame the kid.  Sure, she doesn’t truly have any idea how long she’s going to be asked to sit still on a flying steel tube, but any time spent moving and walking around beats standing still.  Or at least, that was always my philosophy when I was 3…as well as yesterday. 

Watching this young child reminds me of something that I have encountered many times while flying.  That would be young kids who are 500% done with being on a plane.  Personally, I don’t get too upset over these kids acting out (though let’s face it I may be understanding of acting out, but it doesn’t mean I appreciate the screaming).  While parents try to keep their kids entertained, it’s frankly cruel and unusual punishment to ask a young child to sit still for more than 10 minutes.  There are occasions where kids are willing to stay in one place, but that’s really only under their own volition, not because mom, dad, or anyone else wants them to.  Therefore, I could never quite understand the people who would get unaccountably angry at the parents of small (screaming) children.  Now, I don’t have children, but I’ve done enough babysitting to know that there are occasions where even the best parent has a kid who will act out.  Truly, I think Buzzfeed has the best take on this phenomenon, as seen here.

My parents once flew from Hawaii to Chicago, and there was a family with two small children, one of whom cried almost the whole way.  People glared at the parents, and muttered things under their breath.  It got to the point that not only were the kids crying, but so was the mom.  Obviously those people didn’t know that making the mom upset would only cause the child to feed off her discomfort and cry more.  My parents were actually sitting across the aisle from this family, and they tried to distract the children and reassure their parents that they weren’t upset by the children’s behavior. 

For anyone out there who would react the same as my parents, way to go!  For those who would react with anger: if you have kids, please remember that parenting is the toughest (albeit, I hear, the most rewarding) job there is, and you need to cut the people sharing the job title of 'parent' some slack.  If you don’t have kids, try to remember what it was like when you were quite young and hated sitting still.  Not to mention, I know some adults who are scared by plane rides, so why do we expect all children to be completely chill with the experience? For all involved…try to ignore the situation if you can, or—if you feel comfortable doing so—pull some silly faces or play an impromptu game of peek-a-boo.

Then again, there’s also a third option wherein you use your scientific mind to create the first functioning transporter, thereby making plane rides and being forced to listen to screaming children for hours on end a thing of the past.  Personally, I like that option the best (however, I have the furthest thing from a scientific mind, so I will have to rely on others).  Though it will put a serious dent in my silly-face-pulling time.  I’ll just have to make that up with other random strangers I meet on the street.  Those lucky, lucky strangers :D

Wow, sorry for the tiny rant.  See, this is what happens when I'm given too much time to wait ;)

0 DAYS AWAY!!  Flying out today.  Budapest, here I come!!

What Every Good Traveler Needs

For the last four days, I have been packing—and repacking—for my trip.  There is an interesting phenomenon that occurs when I pack for an extended trip: no matter how many lists I make, I always feel as though I’m forgetting something.  To be fair, I’m not much of a list maker in general, so I don’t really trust my list-making skills when it comes to something like this.  But, in the spirit of enhancing those skills, I have made a short list of things every traveler should do to prepare for a big trip.

1.     Make a list, check it...4-5 times

I know, it seems like a silly thing to point out given my introduction above, but this is a staple for all travelers.  Even if you have a much better memory than myself, having a list of everything you plan to pack is a great help.  For my own piece of mind I even make a list of what I’m going to wear each day.  Sure, I may stray from that depending upon weather and events that may come up during the actual trip, but it helps me to cover pretty much all of my bases.  I also like to make a list of toiletries that I’ll be taking, because there is invariably some item I’ll be using up until the day I leave for the airport.  For those, I don’t actually check them off until they’re in either my checked bag or my carry-on.  As to the number of times you check your list…that’s completely up to you.  I tend to check mine obsessively because—as I said before—I don’t really trust my own lists.

2.     Get a fanny pack

OK, we don’t need to go full 80's on our trips, but you definitely need something that you can keep close to your body that can hold your passport and money.  If you ever need a lesson in how easy it is to get items off of someone, take a look at this clip from Brain Games, or an oldie but goodie from Ripley’s Believe it or Not (Any chance for me to look at Dean Cain, thank you ;P).  Now, obviously these are examples where the people get their stuff back, so I don’t think we should risk it.  Therefore, I always keep my money and passport in a necklace pouch that I wear under my clothes.  I’m sure that a really good pickpocket could still get it if he or she was seriously motivated, but they’d have to get up close and personal…and I’d expect a nice dinner out of the encounter.

3.     Know your limitations

This one can cover both the physical and mental challenges of traveling.  Whether you’re going on a local trip or overseas, you need to make sure you’re prepared for the trip.  Over packing is a cardinal sin of traveling.  So long as you have the essentials (toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, spare underwear, socks, or whatever you honestly can’t live without) you can get by in almost any situation or location.  Sure, airlines have a weight and size limit on bags, but you also have a weight and size limit on what you’re willing to carry around for an undetermined amount of time.  I once walked roughly four miles with a giant rolling bag and two carry-on-sized bags because I got mildly lost.  It’s amazing how even the small bags seemed to grow heavier with each step.  That is an experience I never wish to have again, and something I wouldn’t wish on anyone else.  As for the mental limitations, traveling can inundate you with a lot of new and exciting information.  Give yourself a chance to rest on occasion.  I suggest finding a nice café or restaurant that gives you a good view of the local attractions and an opportunity to people-watch.  That way, you’re still enjoying the sites, but in a relaxing manner.  Even a ten minute break from walking and taking pictures can do you a world of good.

4.     Bring a memory card

Speaking of taking pictures…the best thing about cameras today is that you don’t have to worry about the number of film rolls you can fit into your bags.  No matter what the size of your digital camera, there’s always room for a big memory card…or at least a card with a big memory.  You especially want more space if you’re planning to take a lot of video.  That can eat up memory faster than a zombie at a Mensa conference.  If you’re planning to bring your laptop along on your trip, then you really only need enough space on your memory card to last you a day or two.  That is of course assuming you’re planning to download your pictures and video each day, as I plan to.

5.     Get your house in order

For those of you who keep your home neat as a pin 24/7, you may keep lying to me and ignore this section completely.  Personally, I like to keep a small bit of clutter around so I have everything readily available (if you can lie about the 24/7 thing, I can lie about the reason for my clutter).  However, when I’m going on a trip, I like to get everything cleaned up and organized as possible.  Part of that is because I’m entirely morbid and I like to plan for worst cases scenarios wherein my parents may have to clear things out of my apartment, in which case I’d like to have it ready to go.  Mostly though, there’s nothing better than coming home from a long vacation and not having to do a thing with my place.  I can almost guarantee that I will walk through my door, kick off my shoes, throw my bag in the middle of the floor, and promptly fall face down on my bed for a good long nap.  Coming home to an orderly apartment also has the added benefit of knowing exactly where to place my new souvenirs.

6.     Take care of kitty

Now this one only applies to those with animals.  I will be away from my Firefly for a whole two weeks, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it.  Then again, that’s two weeks in which I won’t have to scoop a single litter box.  Those of you with pets know that figuring out what to do with Fido can sometimes be the most stressful and time-consuming aspect of traveling.  Sometimes, it can even be the most expensive depending upon where your pet will be staying while you’re "off gallivanting God knows where" (Firefly’s words, I swear).  My parents are kindly kitty-sitting while I’m gone.  As you can imagine, this is a great weight off my mind.  Then again, I know Firefly will be hopelessly spoiled while I’m away, and there’s an extremely good chance she’ll give me the cold shoulder for the first day I’m back.  But that’s OK, pets forgive much more easily than people, and I have access to her treats.

Well, I think that completes my short list of travel tips.  I may think of more, and it sounds like I have a stop-over of 4.5 hours in London to think of more as needed.  I suppose I can add an addendum to #3 and say that part of my mental limitations that I need to compensate for is my tendency to get bored easily.  To that end, I have four wonderful traveling companions I can chat with.  And, when they get tired of me, I’ll have my laptop and some movies on a thumb drive to keep me occupied.

It’s almost feels like I’m actually going now.  I’m getting super excited, and just as nervous as I always feel before a big trip.  Hopefully, I’ll do my church proud and serve God as He needs.


1 DAY AWAY!!

Budapest: It's the Final Countdown!

The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page

-       St. Augustine

Admittedly, I only recently discovered this quote, but it has quickly become my favorite.  As someone who loves to both read and travel, I feel like this might be my new mantra.  In the spirit of this quote, I try to travel as much as possible, whether in or out of the US.  Next week, I’ll be going to Budapest, Hungary as part of a five-person mission team through the First United Methodist Church of Mattoon.  I’ll be going with the two pastors and their wives.  We’ll be teaching English to incoming freshmen of the Forrai Private School—a school that specializes in the arts.  The interesting thing about this school is that the building was donated to the Hungarian Methodist Church and is therefore run by the church.

I’ve got to say there are several aspects of this upcoming trip that absolutely thrill me.  The first is that this will be my second time going to Central Europe.  So far my travels have been in Western Europe, with most centered in the UK.  My only other foray into CE was Germany to visit my roommate from Dublin.  I really enjoyed the architecture and history, so I’m looking forward to more of that from Hungary.  I plan to get a lot of use out of my camera in the week I’m there!  We already know a few of the activities we’ll be enjoying, which includes watching a Hungarian opera, going the parliament, and enjoying the Szechenyi Baths…to name a few.  I’m definitely ready for the baths, and whatever spa delicacies I can enjoy!!

I’m also looking forward to the teaching part.  For the last year or so, I’ve been toying with the notion of going back to school (this would be the third time for those of you keeping score) and getting my Masters so I can teach college-level English.  While teaching Hungarian teenagers is not quite the same, I think any and all practice I can get with lesson plans and projects will serve me well.  Our group will be at the school for a week, working with the students in both one large group and five small groups.  Our pastors will be leading the group lessons, but I’ll get to teach one of the small groups each day. 

The other activities I’m anticipating aren’t technically for the mission team.  The Forrai students are supposed to have a craft each day that correspond to the elements of earth, air, fire, water and man (one element for each day we're there).  Though I’m sure these incoming freshmen can blow me out of the water when it comes to artwork, I really want to get my hands on some materials and create something beautiful.  Then again, I’m not really sure that we’ll be allowed to do so.  If not, no big deal.  I’ll probably already be pushing the baggage limit when I come back without some pieces of self-made artwork to tote back.  At the very least, I’ll get some enjoyment out of watching the students make stuff that I’m sure will blow my mind.  And, as always with me, pictures will be provided.

And, last but not least, I can’t wait to meet the host family that will be putting me up during my weeklong stay.  They’re a younger couple with two small boys.  I’m not sure how old the boys are—or the parents for that matter—but I’m hoping for a fun experience for all!  I’ve been learning some German, which will hopefully help me to communicate with the family.  German is apparently Hungary’s second language, and it is now (almost) my third!  I got the boys two Hot Wheels cars each—since I didn’t know their ages, I’m hoping these are appropriate for them.  I also got Uno for the family.  I figured the rules for that were simple enough to understand without knowing too much English.  I want to get something for the parents, but so far I’m drawing a blank on what to get them.  There are plenty of kitschy things I could find for them, but I don’t know if I want to go that route.  Going handmade is also a viable choice, but I don’t think they’d necessarily want something made by my hand :P  So, if anyone has any suggestions for uniquely American gifts I could bring my host family, I'm all ears!

What’s funny is that even with all these things I’m looking forward to, it still doesn’t seem like it’s happening.  The whole thing is still a little surreal.  I find that no matter where I go, it doesn’t seem real until I’m packed and headed to the airport.  I plan on doing some of the packing in the next few days (mostly because I have a tendency to forget things if I don’t leave myself enough leeway) along with some hefty apartment cleaning…including laundry for my desired traveling clothes.  I plan to keep everyone updated with regular reports and photos (of Hungary...not my cleaning progress ;P)…though with a procrastinating novelist, one can never be sure what one will get :D

7 DAYS AWAY!!