The Ugliest Christmas Sweater

Who knew what kinds of things I'd need to do so I can get a decent design job. It's all worth it if/when I get that job, in my mind though. One of the most recent ridiculous things I'm doing to make connections in the design world is attending this: http://www.aigacharlotte.org/events/detail/770#register_form

It's a multifaceted event hosted by an arts organization I'm a member of called AIGA. It includes a Toys for Tots toy drive, a general socializing Christmas event, and best of all, an Ugly Christmas Sweater party. And yes, there are prizes for the owner of the ugliest sweater.

So yesterday after an interview I packed a bag for a few days and headed down to Charlotte. I'm going to Atlanta for business for a few days after this, and Charlotte is conveniently located on the way. Yay for me. Last night I found a Goodwill in Charlotte to find this ugly sweater of mine. Let me tell ya, this was the nastiest, skankiest Goodwill I've ever seen. Clothes were not on hangers, rather, they were all piled on giant tables in a huge room with no order whatsoever.

Needless to say I felt a bit uncomfortable taking my iPhone out to take a picture, but I did and here's what it looked like.



My favorite part was listening to these two homeless people have this ridiculously loud conversation while picking through the piles. I even recorded it, I was so impressed. I did decide to call it quits once I started feeling damp clothes and started itching all over the place.

I must say though, I found a perfect Christmas sweater for the party. The reason I didn't give up on my quest for this sweater is simple... I want to meet people tonight. I want to meet designers and make connections. I want this sweater of ugly Christmas goodness to catch attention, and maybe, just maybe, win the prize of ugliness. I'm hopeful. Here it is, enjoy.

My Job

Ok, soooo I think I just got a job! I say "I think" because it's kind of a weird situation. Basically there's a graphic design company based out of Raleigh, an hour from here. I replied to an ad on Craig's List, and in fact I was one of the first to reply out of over 500 DESIGNERS! Amazingly enough, something about my e-mail caught his attention and we had a 2 hour phone interview/conversation this morning.

The thing is, it's a contracting job so I can actually work from my home or wherever I want. Most people would think this is great, but I was actually hoping for an actual office to show up to and to work with a team. I wanted to learn from a team and be taught, not just work on my own. I also wanted a reason to move to a particular area or city- right now I have no direction on where to go and that's weird for me.

However, this place seems like a really good idea because I'd be working as many hours as I can handle and the pay is grrrrrreat. They said they'll start me off on about 10 hours a week and hopefully move up from there.

So I'll have to get another part time which kinda sucks because I will also be working with a business partner on another web/graphic design business. I'm the kind of person who likes a steady paycheck while showing up to an actual office. I also like health insurance and benefits which I won't be getting. So this is a little outside my comfort zone.

Anyway, I think this will be a good move and I will probably be signing the papers to join the company today! Praise God! Dakujem Jezis! Here's our site:

http://iadvertizing.com/

What I thought I'd miss, I actually did.

Wow, what a nice morning. This morning I woke up early at 7:30 (yeah, that's early for me!). I couldn't get back to sleep, and decided I would go get some coffee in Hillsborough in my favorite coffee shop in the world, Cup a' Joe's. I called ahead of time to make sure they were still in business because many coffee shops in this area don't last longer than a few months...understandably so.

I threw some clothes on in the dark, grabbed my computer and iPhone in my backpack, and went on my way. A friend let me borrow her 89' Ford Escort to drive around till I find a car of my own. I'll be calling it "Old Blue" for a while, because it's light blue...and well, old. But it's lovely and I'm so so thankful for it...you have no idea.

So I hopped in Old Blue and went on my way. It's pouring down rain, and should keep raining all week. I stopped in WalMart to get an audio cable so I can hook up my iPod to the stereo in my car. I thought $14 was a ridiculous cost for a simple audio cord, but it's worth the cost of listening to my music in my car.

I hook up my iPod and turn to the Weepies. If you don't know this about me already, you should know that singing along to music while driving a car is one of my favorite things in the world. I missed it so much! It was a little weird getting used to as I haven't done it in over a year (and haven't even driven a car in a year!), but it came naturally and I was singing obnoxiously in no time.

I drive through Hillsborough and I'm so happy to be here. I love this little town. It only consists of about 3 stoplights and a few main city blocks, but it's so quaint and lovely. Mostly liberal neo-hippies live in these parts, but I still love it.

I drive up to my favorite coffee shop and wait in line. I order 4 shots of espresso over extra ice with 2 splendas. The barista remembers that I had come here a ton last year before I left for Slovakia. She asked how my trip went and I shake my head with widened eyes and say, "Awwwwesome", not knowing how much more detail she cares to hear.

I order a pumpkin muffin and sit down with my Mac, muffin, and an incredible cup of iced espresso. I'm serious. This espresso is unbelievably good. It's just perfect. It's smooth, never bitter, a little caramel undertones. The cream is from a farm a few miles away and it's so thick and fresh. Ahhhh, this is the life!

I overhear a conversation of about 5 older people who have met this morning for coffee. They're not your average old people though- they're all drinking strong coffee, they have 1-6 pieces of jewelry on each arm or neck, and they're talking about the differences between deer, elk and moose. A girl sits across from me, intensely looking at her laptop which has an Obama sticker on the front. The cute young man beside me tells his friend about him stopping to pick up a guy who was walking down the road in the rain, his cheap yellow poncho being torn by the wind. He says it with a smile and is proud of his North Face jacket and sturdy leather boots. These are all people who I saw every single time I came here last year when I spent full days drinking coffee and raising support for missions. It's like I never left.

It's still raining outside, and as I sit by the window and glance out, I can still see the red and yellow leaves barely hanging on to the trees outside. The American flag waves in the windy rain above the old Dual Supply Co. store sign.

Gosh, I just love this.

My Journey Back (and I'm not even back yet)

I'm writing this message from a small metal box with a telephone and a bench in it. I've been laying or sitting on the floor for the past 11 hours or so. Part of me wishes a babka would come over and scold me for freezing my ovaries on the cold cement (ohhh Slovakia, how I'll miss you!). The reason I'm stuck at the JFK airport is because I missed my flight to Billings, Montana. Well, wait, let me back up.

I left Monday morning around 7 am from my house and got into Vienna around 8:30. I had a feeling one of my bags was too heavy, even though I checked it a few times with a hand-held scale. Yeah, picking up a 50+ pound bag with a small metal ring while trying to read the weight doesn't work so well, I've learned. I have a lot of luggage. I hate traveling with this much stuff, but I figure that it's worth the pain for so much stuff I've attained over the past year. We get to the counter and of course my duffel is overweight. So I pull over and start yanking out clothes I didn't want that much in the first place and gave them to Kris. Eventually I move things around in my bags so everything works. I even give my guitar to a "special luggage" section and they didn't charge me a penny for taking it.

My first ride to Dusseldorf was fine, but soon after getting on the 9 hour plane ride I realize I'm behind a fussy toddler with unresponsive parents. Great! In the meantime, I'm quite sick with a cold. This puts a damper on sitting, sleeping, and breathing. All in all it was a good flight- great landing, an empty seat on each side of me and 3 entertaining movies. The problem was, once we landed and I saw what time it was, I started to get a little anxious about my upcoming layover in NYC. I knew I didn't have much time as it was, but the plane took another 20 minutes just to drive to the stupid terminal. Finally I get my luggage and plow through people to get in the front of the customs line. Customs is great, but I'm also starting to see how friendly service people are being to customers. I SHOULD like this, but considering the circumstances I absolutely didn't care about their friendly conversation because I needed to get through!

Ok, so I'm one of the first ones through and I get a baggage cart. 5 minutes go by...10 minutes go by...finally after about 20 minutes my luggage comes. Except, when I pick up my guitar case to stand it up on its' own, it almost falls on the ground. Looking at it further I realize that my guitar case is totally destroyed and it was opened up during the flight. Huge cracks are all over it and I feared that I was about to lose it and break down crying if I had opened the case to see my guitar smashed to smithereens. Thankfully, I think, my guitar is fine. Whatever, so I'm running pretty late by this point and I start running.

And running is what I did for the next half hour, as fast as I could, with a full cart of luggage. I go to an information counter and ask where Northwest is. They, of course don't know, consult an old flight book and tell me I should be concerned because it's not listed in their book. Well because I'm a retard and didn't print out e-tickets, I had to consult my computer to triple check that it was from the right airport, at the right time, at the right airline. However, my computer which had no battery was deep in a backpack...which was in another backpack...which was buried under all my luggage. I find a plug. Plug it in and check it, and yes I was right. I ask the same people (as I'm running past them), "WHERE'S NORTHWEST?!" and they slowly take out a map and say, "I THINK it's this terminal here" and show me in the direction of the tram which should take me to the right terminal. I have never seen an elevator or tram go slower in my entire life. What in the world?!

I get to the counter finally, and they tell me I've missed my plane by a long shot. I had two choices- either become furious at the circumstances or just accept it and not blame anybody. They inform me that there are no more flights tonight out to Billings, so I have to wait till 8 am the next morning for a flight. They say I should go downstairs and find the guy at the counter to help me with finding a hotel. I go to the counter and ask what an average hotel cost is around here. He says $200 minimum, and I say Thank you very much then, goodnight!

So... here I am, camping out in an airport. This is the first flight I've ever missed. For those of you ever have to do what I did (take your baggage out, go through customs, and re-check yourself back into the airline), allow yourself at least 2-3 hours! 1.5 isn't even close to enough. I think I gave myself an ulcer.

And, well, of course I'm too paranoid to go to sleep because there are lots of creeps walking around in the middle of the night in this terminal and everything important that I own is here on this cart. So I'm keeping busy by writing, watching Top Chef and Law & Order, and listening to music. I must say, my butt is tired of sitting on cold surfaces.

So a few random things I've noticed about culture shock and cultural differences (since I want to share these things so I don't feel like a freak). First, I've been way too tired and out of it to care about being in this country and being able to speak English. Until I had my most recent coffee and cinnamon bun (HOW I MISS THOSE!), I was so tired I just wanted to cry. But now that I'm waking up I can think more clearly. I am so thankful to speak English. Even though the mean big ladies at the coffee stand were totally mean the 3 times I've been since I got here last night, I was still thankful that they at least understood me. I was even thankful to be able to say, "Whaaaaat? $8.30 for a tuna sandwich I can make at home for like 50 cents?!". How I miss being heard! hah.

I was able to buy straight up coffee. Not an espresso drink, just coffee (for the record, I ordered a latte but the Mexican lady didn't know how to make it so she said "they were out").

Quarters are very thin compared to the Euro.

Many Americans feel the need to be loud and personable in quiet places when it's kinda not appropriate.

I love American electricity plugs. I don't have to use converters any more, and for some reason that makes me happy. Also, I love how many places in this country have plugs in public places for folks to use.

American customer service isn't necessarily better than Slovak in some ways. These two chicks that took my coffee orders were really mean.

That's it for now. I haven't even been outside of this building so it's hard to talk about the shock yet. Just some thoughts I'd share with those interested.

Thanks for all of your support and prayers through all this. Thanks for understanding how mentally difficult this is for me.

Now I'm off to find Air Berlin and harass them about ruining my case and gonna check in for my flight to Billings. :)

Outta da' Hood (Metaphorically Speaking)

Tonight on the walk home I listened to a bit of Tupac, which I usually save for my car speakers which have incredible bass. The problem with all that bass is that you tend to miss lyrics as your ear drums ring. My favorite song by him is called Changes, by the way. One part of the song, where he's complaining about society, he says "We have yet to see a black president" and let me just say (and I'm just being honest) that I smiled when I heard that. Not because I'm proud of Mr. Obama for suckering his way into the presidency, but now people aren't allowed to complain about it.

Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about politics. Nor did I come here to discuss rap necessarily, but while looking up these lyrics below I noticed just how many words good rappers say in one song. It's really incredible- like rap or not, it takes talent to squeeze all that in a song! Ok, back to my point...

On another song called I Ain't Mad At Ya he says this, "I guess change is good for any of us. Whatever it take for any of y'all niggaz to get up out the hood. Shit, I'm wit cha, I ain't mad at cha." And it got me thinking about some things. I have so many friends and family who are in a metaphorical ghetto. They're in a place where they think they can never escape, that some THING is keeping them down, they have good excuses why they're unemployed or unfocused. They're afraid of taking those steps to get out of the ghetto and stay where they are because it's comfortable. For any of those living in the States or are familiar with real ghettos, this is more often than not the case in reality.

I've talked to some people lately now about their jobs. I relayed to them something that my step dad said to my a while ago when I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. It offended me at first, but I believe it's true. He said, "Just PICK SOMETHING. It doesn't matter what it is, choose anything, get training, get good at it, and then you'll learn to like it." I don't care if people want to be an astronaut or a friggin' circus clown, just pick something and take practical steps to get there. Draw a timeline from where you are now, to where you want to be, map out the steps to get there, and do it! It doesn't matter if you're currently passionate about it or even good at it, those things come with years of experience. I personally have found that the more complicated the profession, the better, because you'll never get bored- you're always learning.

I'm not trying to be your mom or a motivational speaker here, but there comes a point in your life where you've got to make a decision and stick with it and you'll watch yourself flourish. Get out of your "ghetto" whether literally or metaphorically speaking and move on. I'm also not saying this because I'm the shining beacon of success- I've got the same amount in my bank account that I did like 7 or 8 years ago and I will be unemployed again in a few months with no place to live....BUT I can tell you from first hand experience that life is much clearer if you just choose something and go with it. You can at least live with a linear direction and know where you're going.

If the Negro in the ghetto must eternally be fed by the hand that pushes him into the ghetto, he will never become strong enough to get out of the ghetto.
Carter G. Woodson

I'm curious to know what your "hand" is...

What is Love?

So lately I've been watching a lot of 30 Rock, an NBC tv show. I was into it a bit before I came here but now I'm watching full seasons at a time. The character development is good, it's subtly hilarious and clever.


I'm watching an episode called Subway here now and I heard a quote I wanted to share:

Liz: Everything in my life is work, but not Dennis Duffy. I don’t have to shave. I don’t have to bathe. I don’t have to be clever or nice.

Jenna: Love is hiding who you really are at all times, even when you’re sleeping. Love is wearing make up to bed, and going downstairs to the Burger King to poop, and hiding alcohol in perfume bottles. That’s love.

Liz: Being with Dennis is easy. If you give into it, you start to feel kind of numb and warm. And then you just get sleepy.

Jenna: That’s exactly what they say happens when you freeze to death.

Liz: Blurg.


To join me on the 30 Rock wagon, check it out: http://tvshack.net/tv/30_Rock/

my slovak neighborhood in the evening

So the other day I was sitting in my caged in balcony watching and listening. The next day I wrote this- it's not amazing poetry but...ok no more disclaimers! Here's my unedited...thing...

legs dangling through these metal bars
like a bird in a cage
suspended from a hook in the sky ceiling
this place, my dwelling, slovakia, slovensko.

sounds that bounce 7 stories up
a little too well
are like notes in an unsuspecting song

pigeons that gather and flutter together
near the rusted metal door
on the high rise roof

children sliding down the new white slide
up the stairs, down the slide, up and down

big white and black dog running circles
around his master with a ball

listen carefully and hear cabinets close
and dinner plates clatter
as neighborhood mothers prepare an evening meal

in the distance a siren sounds and music bumps
a car speeds and a babka strolls

look downward through my cage
and see a woman with her head over her balcony
her friend who's back is to the ground
face looking straight up
afternoon face to face conversation
high rise style

a group of children with tie-on roller skates ride by below
the last one directs his remote control car with low batteries
"Pockajte!" he yells in frustration
as they roll ahead, impatient with dying batteries

the sound I'll give anything to hear when I'm gone
a faint, but loudly proclaimed
"AHOJ!" shouted from one child to another
with no restraint, as it bounces through the high rise concrete

desire affects charm

when the one you desire
desires you
their faults and imperfections
are charming

the unbearable becomes pleasant
the pleasant becomes bliss

but

when the one you desire
rejects you
their faults and imperfections
are ****

the pleasant becomes unbearable
the unbearable becomes torture

....just something I've been thinking about lately.

Twilight, The Book & Movie

Right, so since all this Twilight nonsense has been hitting the shelves I've been pretty resistant to the idea. I thought it was soooo stupid that someone would read a book/watch a movie about vampires. I thought, "Okay, seriously, how many stories have already been written about vampires! Been there, done that."

Well, I thought that until my roommate left me the Twilight book.

I started reading it on a long train ride, thinking it would be ridiculously stupid. Well I started reading the first page... then the second... then before I knew it I found myself thinking about the story when I put the book down. Soon enough I had finished the book and NEEDED to read the second book! (Finished the book on Saturday)

So today, on my day off, I decided to rent the movie. Since I've read the book and seen the movie so close together, I wanted to tell ya what I thought. First, I loved seeing the visuals of what I imagined. Even though some of what I imagined weren't exact, a lot of it was pretty close- the town feel, her move to Forks, Edward and Bella's appearance, the awkwardness of the daughter/father relationship, Edward's "disgust" of her in the beginning, the truck, the school, the scene where Edward was pissed at those guys in the ally, the native American and his son, .

Other parts though, were kinda annoying in how inaccurate they were. I totally understand that when you make a movie out of a book certain details will be left out. I guess I'm the kind of reader that takes my time because I spend so much time soaking in those little details to get a good picture in my mind. I felt like if I watched the movie without reading the book first, I might not have liked it.

Ok my issues-
- Didn't seem like Edward's family was as interesting, beautiful, or as smooth as the book.
- After Bella got hurt in the book, everyone from her school was in the waiting room.
- In the movie they ate at the diner every night, but in the book she cooked for her dad every night.
- I never noticed that 2nd guy getting killed on the boat in the book- am I wrong? And they never stopped at the police station after Port Angeles.
- In the book it was girl's choice for the prom.
- Her excuse for getting out of the prom was to go to Seattle, not Jacksonville.
- She didn't go to Port Angeles for the book store- in the book she accidentally found the store but didn't go in to buy that book.
- In the book I don't think Bella just led Edward up to the mountain after school where he told her he was a vampire- I think it went down differently.
- That part about the shiny skin was stuuuuuupid in the movie.
- I didn't like the motion blurs when they ran fast- looked so corny.
- Edward never flew out his bedroom window with her and climbed up the tree.
- Bella wasn't the umpire in the game, she sat way far away with the mother- anyways, that whole baseball scene was ridiculous.
- When the bad guy called her, they went to the airport and she lost them in the bathroom- in the movie she just strolled out of the hotel- stupid!
- The bad guy threw her against the glass and totally beat the crap out of her before Edward came- in the movie he was too sweet.
- In the movie, Edward barely fought the bad guy at all, his siblings did everything.
- The hospital scene was inaccurate in lots of places.
- Bella didn't want to go to the prom, Edward tricked her- and she wore a stiletto heel, not a Chuck Taylor.
- Jacob tried to cut in to their dance in the book- not hiding behind a tree.

All in all, I didn't really feel the ANGST and attraction between the two characters like in the book. I think there could have been better character development with those two. Though, I understand it had to lack some detail.

Anyway, give the book a shot definitely- it's worth a brainless read, I think.

Camp Brochure

Feel free to check out a brochure I did for Camp Chestnut Ridge

http://issuu.com/driggins/docs/summer_camp_2009/2

Emergency Hatch on the Highway

So a funny thing happened when I was in Spain last week. If you want to see a fraction of the photos I took, check out my Facebook albums. Anyway we were on our way back from Sevilla, Spain (yes, from The Barber of Seville- Bugs Bunny). The driver had left the emergency hatch open on the bus for air while he waited and it was right above our heads. Well he forgot to close it before we got going, and the noise was very annoying. So we asked this guy beside us to close it.



Within a minute or so we all realized he had no idea how to close it, and we started encouraging him to not worry about it or ask someone else. He kept messing with it though, and soon all of us started to have these worried looks on our faces and imagining this hatch flying open. I honestly didn't think it would happen though.



All of the sudden this thing flies off the roof and into traffic behind us (we're going probably 80 mph on the highway, mind you). A few of us gasp, some give a girly scream, and everyone stands up and looks behind us to see if it hit anyone. We couldn't see because there wasn't a window in the very back. So we told the driver what happened and he stopped a few km up the road at a gas station. He nervously called his boss and was instructed to go back and try to find it. So we made our way to the highway in the opposite direction, so that we could turn around and retrace our steps.



As we drove back to the place where it flew off, everyone's faces were plastered against the window looking for this huge white and yellow hatch in between the bushes which were in between lanes of the highway. We finally saw it and yelled out to stop, so the bus driver slams on the breaks and pulls over---kinda, except we were probably 40% in the lane with just a little bit of the bus on the median. The driver gets out and starts running behind us to get the hatch. In the meantime we're being updated on a second by second basis by my friend Gina of what's happening! Haha.. he brings it back and we all start cheering for him. He took it surprisingly well, but maybe because he didn't know it was our fault!

Why Don't Stupid Americans Learn More Languages?!

I'll tell you why. This question irritates me and I seem to hear it all the time. Yeah yeah, we're fat and stupid and lazy and we think we're all the best and English is all we need and whatever... ya know, there are stereotypes for every country and sub-culture in the world and YES, most of the time it's a stereotype because it's partially true--I will agree with that. Many Americans fit the exact mold of what I just said.

But I just want to stick up for us for a minute- cause I mean, I know that Americans aren't supposed to be patriotic or anything since that would make us ignorant fools.... but I don't care. I want to give you a few reasons why Americans don't find learning a bunch of languages a top priority for them in their lives.

Let's take for example Bob who lives in North Platte, Nebraska. If Bob were to drive 1,300 miles south, 1,600 miles west, 2,000 east, or 3,500 miles to the North (west), he would STILL BE in his own country who speaks English. One major language. He could even go further as Canada obviously speaks English, and as my step dad said, "You could go a few thousand miles south in South America but if you go to a tourist town or hotel they probably speak English anyway."

Take Europe for example. If Europe were a triangle, to get from one point to another it would be about 3,500 miles. Within that triangle there are about 230 languages. Only knowing one language in the midst of several smaller countries so close together would not be very advantageous. Let's say you're working in Switzerland. You have Italian to the south, French to the west, German to the north, and 2 countries to the east you have a junk load of other languages like Czech and Slovak. To be in business and only know German would result in lost business.

Another thing... English is obviously becoming an international language. It's not my fault- it wasn't my decision- it's just the way it is! So yes, I can go just about anywhere in the world and a lot of people I'll meet know their own language plus English.

So listen- here's the deal. Of COURSE I think Americans should learn other languages. There are plenty of benefits in learning languages and it's a good good thing. I'm not saying people shouldn't learn them... ok? But what I am saying is for you people out there who criticize us for being stupid because we don't learn a bunch of languages, find something better to criticize us for!

Numb Silence Has Killed Me

Written 5 years ago in the peak of some heavy and tough times...


with a lamenting burden strapped across our backs,
so tight and wound likely tethered by our own eager hearts,
we judge life by how we react to new distractions and romanticized visions
that are born out of dissatisfaction of our current circumstance-
our minds, under the impression that happiness is on the other side,
look and long for relevance in ideas and people and expect full recompense-
but once we reach a new climbing comparison on our own mountain,
with breeding expectations, we blindly move onward for a new diversion-
but problems lie in that with these distractions we disqualify our own realities and miseries-
we lose sight of purpose, faith and suffering until we implode with every sense of despondency,
encompassing everything never dealt with, now clattering like an orchestra
with broken instruments assuming their own spotlight- some ring louder and longer,
some more severe and strong, but eventually theyre wound so tight,
like dead weight they sing and sink below, reaching to disappear-
until one day we see no hope, no reason, no satisfaction
in what weve become, no way to deal with the pain thats been so...................................recessed
that our clouded minds become cumbersome-
we gaze with blank stares and hollow thoughts
into the space between nothing and everything
and tighten our heavy load even more,
because were never taught not to obsessively
embrace all that brings this burden to finally
reach its full capacity and break
the undeniable spine of sanity-
where the orchestral conductor,
permits its untuned melody
for too long that the
numb silence has
killed me undoubtedly.

My Daddy

Here's some pics of my dad. He died on March 20, 1993 and was 38 years old. Now please excuse me while I get back to Becherovka.

My Croatian Adventure

...and an adventure it was! I don't have my pictures ready to share at the moment so until then, forgive my wordy picture-less story.

So for those of you who don't know why I went to Croatia, let me quickly explain. My step sister Renee is in the Navy and their ship ported in Split, Croatia. She was able to tell me a few days beforehand that she'd be there and asked me to come. I could only find super expensive plane tickets and kinda decided I couldn't afford it...until a lovely Slovak friend found me a cheap bus ticket. I decided this would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and decided to go for it. Tuesday I bought my ticket, Friday I left :)

So I was able to get a ride to the Vienna airport on Friday morning because someone else was going there. However, my BUS left from downtown Vienna at 6 pm. So pretty much all day I walked around Vienna and took trains all over the place to check out the city. I finally feel like I SAW Vienna for the first time, even though I've been there like 4 times. I loved it because I was able to see the parts of town I wanted to that no one else has been interested in seeing.

A few hours beforehand I took the train to Erdberg station a few stops away from downtown. I didn't know where this place was or anything so I left in plenty of time in case I got lost. I went to the counter to make sure I was in the right spot and she said, "Yes, you will be in terminal A." So I wait till check in, go to another counter, ask another lady just to make sure, and she says, "Yes, Terminal A please." So I go to terminal A, show the bus driver my ticket who didn't know one word of English, and I say, "SPLIT?" and he nods his head and says "SPLIT!" and tells me I can sit down. I go get a breath of air before we leave and I ask some random guy if the bus went to Split. He says, "NO SPLIT (points to my bus), THAT SPLIT (points to another bus in another terminal)". It was 5:59 at this point. I run down to the other terminal and low and behold I see a big fat sign for Split on the window. I run back to my bus and get my stuff. As I left I showed me ticket to the silly old driver and said in a ticked off stern voice, "NOT SPLIT!!" and ran to the other bus. We left immediately. Just imagine if I didn't ask that other guy if I was on the right bus- I would have ended up in flippin' Afghanistan or something.

So within about 60 seconds I start to feel horribly motion sick. I thought to myself how there was no way I could get through the whole trip without puking, and started looking around for some place to vomit. I popped my 2 Dramamines and 2 melatonins to start getting sleepy early on. For the next 12 1/2 hours I found myself in about 10 different sleeping positions- the most effective being laying down on the two seats with my legs 'Indian style' against the window. I woke up probably 20 times that night.

At about 5:30 I woke up on the bus and decided I was ready to really wake up. I looked to my right and saw the moon beans shine off of the water then had a stale fluffernutter sandwich (peanut butter and marshmellow fluff). I don't know exactly why but for some reason I was hit with a wave of emotion - both good and bad - and spent like 30 minutes crying in my seat as I looked at the water, being tossed around the curves of the cliffs as the driver sped around them. It felt good to get it out- been too long since I have.

I arrived at the Split bus station at 6:30 am. All I knew about where to find Renee was that she was in a certain part of town. After asking 3 people's advice on how to get there in broken English, I decided to take a chance and take buses to get across town. By the way, I got different responses from those 3 people but I just took the best out of 3! So I couldn't believe it but I got on the right buses at the right time and it took me across the city. Renee had told me it wasn't in the main port so I was looking for a rinky dink little port. So as we were driving I asked a lady next to me where this particular part of town was. She said it was a little further---but I saw a huge gray ship at the bus stop we were stopping at. She told me I should stay on and wait even though my gut told me to get off the bus. I wasn't sure if it was Renee's ship so I thought I'd keep on going to make sure. That was one edge of this large bay. We went all around the entire bay to the opposite side where I eventually got off the bus.

I called the ship's number and the conversation went like this: (Does it sound like I'm in the Navy or what?)
"Hi I'm here visiting OS2 Melillo (or whatever it was) and I am trying to locate your ship. Do you have a number 17 on the front of the ship?"
"No ma'am, there isn't a number on the front but there is a number on the back."
"Ok, yeah honestly I can't tell the difference. Ok, so it's a big, gray boat, eh?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Ok good enough, this phone call is costing me a fortune, bye!"

The problem was, even though I could see the ship I still had to walk over an hour and a half across the bay just to get to the entrance (right beside the bus stop I should have gotten off in the first place). I FINALLY get to the entrance of the ship and wait for her. She comes running through the entrance and hugged and it was great. She took me to the depths of her ship and showed me her 'berthings' (where she lives) and where she works. It was really cool to see it, though I don't think I'm cut out to live in a place like that!

They said that if we didn't stay in this particular 5 star hotel then they wouldn't let her leave--which stinks because the hotel was like a 15 minute ride from downtown and it cost a ton to get a cab ride. Anyway we went to our hotel and got settled, bathed, and relaxed in our really really nice room. Later we went out to get pizza near our hotel but met up with some of her navy buddies who bought our lunch and some drinks which was very expensive, but it was cool I guess. We went back to the hotel and chilled for the night. Actually they gave us a free $5 voucher to use in the casino so we went down there for a while to play the stupid slots which stink. We went up to eat dinner at the fancy restaurant where I ordered a tuna steak. It was borderline rancid which surprised me at the amount of money it cost. I asked for a piece of chicken instead, so they brought me out chicken and fries and I ended up paying like $25 for that stupid meal and we had just spent like 2 hours in the restaurant waiting. How annoying! Stupid expensive rancid food.

The next day we had a crazy awesome continental breakfast in the hotel restaurant. It was AMAAAAZING, probably the best hotel breakfast I've ever had. We grabbed the shuttle to the bus station in downtown and pretty much spent all day from 9:30 to 5 walking around Split taking pictures and stuff. It was so cool and I really loved it there. We just explored every crack and crevice we could find and took pictures of it. It was amazing! I'm gonna post my pictures on Facebook soon so watch out.

At 5 I went to the bus station but I didn't see my bus. While I wasn't looking the bus right in front of me changed the sign to say they were going to Vienna. So I said goodbye to Renee and showed this big hairy tall ugly driver my ticket. In Croatian he asked if I spoke German or Croatian, and I said no, so he said "Why not?! Next time, German or Croatian!". He was trying to tell me I needed another ticket. I said I only had one ticket. So after 5 minutes of arguing he took me in the bus station and yelled at the guy behind the ticket counter so everyone could here. I didn't understand him but I knew he was mad and not happy with me....especially after I reached in my pocket and showed him my itinerary (not a ticket) and the ticket guy said that was what he was asking for.

So we went outside and he looked at my backpack and pointed to the back of the bus. I thought he was saying that I needed to put my backpack on the bottom. I said, "No this comes with me up there" and I pointed to the seats in the back. He said something in Croatian and pointed to the back of the bus. I said, "NO, you don't understand, I'm NOT putting this under the bus because it's small enough to go with me and" blah blah. We argued like this for another 5-10 minutes and he was looking at me like he wanted to kill me, but I wouldn't do it. After a while he grabbed my hand with his huge hand and pointed at the back door of the bus---MEANING that I could take my bag with me but I had to enter in the back entrance instead of the front. I felt pretty stupid. I got on and got settled. Later he came back and I said sorry and he winked at me so he wasn't too mad.

Later that night I needed to use the bathroom on the bus but he told me it was broken. Except, you have to pay to use the bathroom at the bus stop so just as we were about to leave he took me to show me the bathroom and convinced the ladies to let me go in for free cause I didn't have any money. It was nice.

The hairy bus driver and I were on good terms until he came to the back of the bus to tell me I couldn't lay down on the seats the way I was. I was pretty ticked!!

I got into Vienna at 4:30 am, an hour before schedule...but I woke up as we were parking so I was in a hurry to get off the bus cause everyone else was almost off. I looked back to make sure I had everything and didn't see anything. It wasn't till another 30 some minutes later till I realized I left my black hat on the bus!!! ACK! So I was about to get a train home but decided to delay my trip so I could go back on the other train to see if my hat was still on the bus. Of course the bus was locked and no one would let me in. I came back a few hours later again and it was still locked. I even left a note on the outside of the bus as well as leaving one on the outside of the bus station but no one gave a hoot. So yes, my favorite hat of all time is seeing the world without me. :( I'm still mad about that to be honest.

I took another train to Starbucks and tried to sleep there for another few hours but kept being rudely awakened by the espresso machines. I got a fantastic cup of espresso and muffin and left. I met some friends later that day and we walked around Vienna for another few hours and had some pretty good lunch. I got to the train station in Trnava and walked another 25-30 minutes to get home. I was pooped! I slept 11 hours last night and could have slept longer if it weren't for my alarm.

Let me just say that I really really enjoy traveling alone, as scary as it can be sometimes. I love the ability to make 10 different decisions in 10 seconds and no one cares. I like to be able to go wherever I want and spend as long as I want doing it and I don't have to worry about what other people want. On the other hand I like traveling with one buddy who doesn't care about that stuff either. It's nice to have companionship and for people to watch your back and your luggage and stuff.

Anyway I totally don't regret any part of this trip, I had a great time and I feel so refreshed coming back from it. I'm really glad my friends encouraged me/pushed me to go. Good times!!