Adventuresam

Bingo!

This is one of my favorite blog posts in recent memory…and I didn’t write it.
A guest blog by Patrick ❤

 

Following the amazing Mystery Trip and our incredible trip to Mississippi, Sammi and I were downright dedicated to keeping our travel momentum going. After reflecting on the fact that our collective energy for challenging travel was waning, we decided it was best to try to visit some of those places that we really wanted to see but needed some help to visit. And by ‘help’ we meant each other. We started to brainstorm a list of countries that would be hard to travel to. And when we say hard, we mean HARD. Like, the type of places where you find yourself wondering “What the hell am I doing here?”

We settled on a list of 8 countries, divvied them up, and started researching. Our goal: to narrow the list down to the best option for travel in July. There were, of course, some caveats, and they allowed us to quite neatly hone in on a destination that always invokes thoughts of “I literally know nothing about that place!” Strap on your seatbelts ladies and gentlemen, we’re headed to Kazakhstan!

Our thorough preparation consisted of the following:

1. Figure out a city in Kazakhstan that has an airport. (You get bonus points if you could name Astana or Almaty, because I certainly couldn’t.)
2. Book a flight to the one that’s named after an apple (Almaty).
3. Buy a guide book and talk a lot about getting to hunt with an eagle because that’s the photo on the cover and we didn’t actually read the book in advance.
4. Set up CouchSurfing for our first two nights.
5. Have a Fur-reaking awesome weekend at the Furries.
6. Show up at the airport absolutely exhausted after road trips to Toronto and Warren (Patrick’s hometown).
7. Let the fun begin…because you don’t really need to be prepared to travel to a HARD country, do you?

Luckily, we had a whole day of travel to Almaty, which would give us plenty of time to watch movies read the guide book and make a plan. I mean, we certainly weren’t going to look out the window.

 

Building off of the enthusiasm that was generated by Furry Bingo, Sammi and I knew exactly how to get the most of our adventure:

 

So, to wet your appetite for our upcoming posts detailing our adventures in Kazakhstan AND Kyrgyzstan (because it was just too tempting to hitchhike across a remote alpine border crossing), here’s some evidence that we did in fact get to yell “Бинго!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grooving to some LIVE MUSIC at the Metro Pub in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Not pictured: Mind-blowing rave happening in the back room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, so maybe we got a little ahead of ourselves when we declared that crossing a major road in Almaty without a crosswalk counted as being DAREDEVILS. How were we supposed to know there’d be a two-person swing on Issyk Kul? And, for the record, we never technically said that a BOARD GAME couldn’t just involve an actual board.

 

 

 

 

In a world where animals can talk, where goats and dragons date, and where a secret society of rodents (allegedly) lives in Walmart, anything can happen, so it’s important that you find your herd. LUCKILY for me, I already have mine. This year, I wrote a preparation e-mail and sent it out to all of my flock so they would know what to expect. Here’s a blog hyping it all up.

 

 

And here are some reviews:

“I felt like I was living a dream I didn’t even know I had!” – Katie B. (Tail-y Swift)

“A weekend full of highlights” – Helen (EnthusiasTICK)

“I ex-fur-cised my body, mind, and soul.” – wee Emily (Em-azing)

“The only weekend of my year where I got both stronger and more cuddly.” – Patrick (Paws)

“Every year it exceeds our impossibly high expectations!” – EnthusiasTICK (see above)

 

 

The convention started on Thursday, but Patrick arrived on Monday to help plan our adventfurs — or “earscapades,” if you will. That “fur”st night, the two of us were up until 3:30am, chatting and having fun when we realized that we had FORGOTTEN TO PLAN MONDAY!!  Shoot.   We had been so excited but now… we also were going to be so tired. Ah, well, the best laid plans forgot to account for the entire week. #lessonsfornextyear #ITWASWORTHIT

As more of the herd came trickling in, Anthrocon began in style: at the Dream Flat brainstorming, making a snack pack (which, just to be clear, is a backpack full of snacks), and ensuring all of the food we had was going to get eaten.

 

 

Everyone on our crew had a role.   During that initial brainstorming sesh, some of us became food distrubution pillars.  Helen, Sammi, Patrick and Katie were just that, meaning, we weren’t going to let anything in our fully-stocked house go to waste.  “Let’s move some watermelon, people!”, said Katie, and we did.  Helen and I ate cereal (that was pretty much dessert) with lots of milk (so much milk).  In addition, since Patrick hearts snacks, he had put himself in charge of the snack pack (a backpack full of snacks).  “Does anyone one want any hardboiled eggs?”, texted Patrick like the good food distrubution pillar that he was, 30 minutes after we had all left the house and eaten a hearty breakfast.  We looked over at him and laughed (he had texted us while we were all in the same room).  He had a smile on his face and eggs in his hand.  Katie made a gorgeous list of house food and house rules (3. HAVE FUN “Don’t tamp* my tail**.”), and Colleen was in charge of making a bathing schedule and keeping us to it (with only one shower in the house, each of us furries had to clean our tails in a timely manner.) 

*oppress
**fun

Using some of our snacks as brainfood, that first night we came up with the idea to play some Furry Bingo this year at the convention so as not to wander aimlessly, because you know, it’s a jungle out there.

 

 

Most of this blog, from here on out is going to be pictures and if you’re a part of the herd, you’ll catch the references.  Otherwise, enjoy the visuals. I think they’re joyful and surreal.  The scene is set in Pittsburgh…

 

 

Walking to the convention center that fist day, it was clear how much Pittsburgh loves the furries! There were police, ambulances, humans (without tails) in cars, all honking at us, waving, and smiling.  WELCOME, FURRIES!!!!  

 

 

 

 

We knew that inside, we would be joining the really slow, tame stampede which definitely couldn’t kill Mufasa. #spoilers

 

 

My phone cover case was so fluffy and hot — but it matched the theme of the weekend…It was a furry!  You’ll see it in the corner of the above picture and all throughout the other photos in this blog.

 

 

We went to the opening ceremonies where Dr. Samuel Conway, the organizer of Anthrocon declared in this magical, accurate quote: “We’re not crazy,” he said, “We’re just individuals who like having fun!”  I couldn’t agree more!!!  LOOK AT ALL THIS FUN:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So after a full day walking around the convention center, doing furry things, and checking off the Bingo sheet, we called it a night and went back to the Dream Flat to snuggle like the true pack that we are.

 

We lounged a bit, and I stayed really hydrated by drinking out of every open container I saw…because that’s “the best part of being the hostess, drinking all of the open available drinks.”  #hostessperks The more guests you have, the more variety of beverages! Katie figured out that I hate labels though, so she told everyone the best way to keep their drinks safe was to a) label it or b) keep active guard.

When it was finally time for bed — and we all welcomed it; we were exhausted — we snuggled onto two air mattresses, two beds, and a couch to accommodate all of the animals in our herd. But, even with adherence to the schedule, I didn’t get enough sleep. I never sleep enough during the furries. There is always someone I LOVE who is willing to stay up late and talk and someone else I LOVE who is willing to wake up early and snuggle. And I’ll do both every. single. time.

 

 

This year, we decided to add exercise to the schedule to keep us fit and healthy, so in the morning, we woke up ready for a worksnout. We had a fursonal trainer, and everyone had the option to work out for an hour (but you had to wear tails and ears, obviously). Katie used a smaller pair of ears for the worksnouts.

Overheard on the way to the ex-fur-cise park…
Katie:   These are my workout ears!
Helen:  Every girl needs a pair!

Everyday was a really hard workout, but we pushed through like the BEASTS that we are; although, we were sore all day long. When asked where, Molly (Bone Sandwich) said, “I’m sore in the center. In the middle of my center.”

 

 

After the workout, we had a quick cat-shower (like a cat-nap, only wetter), we took breakfast to go, and then it was time for DAY TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

One of the squares that should’ve been on the Bingo sheet but that wasn’t was “Start a Furry Trend.” At one point, we were all trying to find each other at the convention, and we started howling so that we would know where our other herd members were. AND GUESS WHAT? Everyone on the convention floor started howling too. Is that amazing or what? Inspired by goals that we didn’t even know we had. Here are other times that we crawled around aiming to cross items off of our Bingo sheet:

We met an interspecies couple! Tail-y Swift and Em-azing got to hear the love story between a dragon and a goat.

 

Emily got a signature by a furlebrity — a famous furry who we met in the RODENTS! talk.

 

 

 

We found a shark to follow on Instagram!

 

 

Another bingo win came when I “weaseled” (hehe) my way into a picture with over 5 full-suiters!

 

 

Of course, being on the hunt is hard work, and we didn’t factor in any coffee breaks into the schedule this year. So we found ourselves taking a few breaks to rest and enjoy a snack from the snack pack (a backpack full of snacks).

 

 

 

 

 

I was determined not to be another elephant statistic and, as Smartbo — not Dumbo —  I decided to name off a few other famous smart elephants…There was Babar… Mrs. Babar (who did get shot, but that’s beside the point), Dumbo’s mom… you know, there are probably more I just can’t think of them right now. I mean, there are definitely more.  There are more.  I’ll think of more. #opentohelpwithbrainstorming #trumpetingsound

 

 

We also decided to watch wee bit of the world cup! And I made up an elephant dance.

 

 

 

EnthusiasTICK was always excusing herself to address the elephant in the room and I was all ears.

 

 

Some talks TALK:

On that first day we went to the Scalies talk (everyone made their way over there while Molly and I ran back to prevent anyone in our herd from getting a ticket because THE FUN IS IN THE RUSHING!)  We missed the talk, BUT from what I herd [lol, pun], everyone who went to the talk now thinks they are party Scaly except Patrick.  Right before it was her turn to share Bella (Helen) turned to Patrick to let him know she felt nervous.  Patrick responded with:
“You think you’re sweating!? I’m sitting in a dog suit at a Scalies talk!!”
And then! Patrick continues, “it becomes Helen’s turn and Helen says, in front of everyone — while dressed as a giraffe — that she thinks she’s part dragon.” Ha! Give it up for 2018 Helen, figuring out her fur-dentity!

 

 

 

 

We also went to the Bird’s talk, and we decided that a well-done bird costume is the flyest of them all. Colleen even bought a macaw suit for next year!!

 

 

 

 

Going to all of the talks was really informative, and we learned a ton! We learned about the Skull furries, the Milfurs, and the Aces (asexuality). Patrick took empathy to a whole other level and now we can tell people “we are a bartender; We are a teacher.” ❤

Even though we went to a lot of talks and learned a lot about the different types of furries, our favorite talk this (and every year) was the RODENTS! talk. And no, the all caps and exclamation point does not signify my enthusiasm. They write their name like that — RODENTS! — and I love it. This was the best forum where I really get to know my friends. Both Katies and Molly participated as well as Colleen. They had never had a mole in the room before either, which was exciting for both us AND them (thank you, Bone Sandwich!). Colleen — a black panther — apologized to the RODENTS! for her previously destructive behavior (furry dare completed; checked that off the Bingo sheet). The rest of the herd sat listening with awe.  WHAT A YEAR!!!

A non-rodent — a jackal — walked in late to the meeting group and there was a stir.  But someone in the meeting said, “No, it’s cool! He’s my roommate,” to which the leader of the group responded “Oh, so you can vouch for him? Then it’s cool.”  But it wasn’t cool.  He aways had to hold his tongue out to speak and and Squirrelly Diamond (who most identifies with squirrel’s fluffy tails) kept fact-checking to see if the non-rodent was, indeed, telling the truth. (hint:  HE WAS NOT)

We also learned about the rats of Walmart, which I previously alluded to.  Those are a group of rats that live in Walmart and only come out after Walmart (which is open 24 hrs) closes.

 

During the talk, the head rat recalled the time he became a rat. “Thirteen years ago — I can’t remember the exact day —  but I became a rat.” He says. Helen turns to me and remarks, “Um, yeah, I think I would remember the exact day.”

I laughed.  I mean…she’s not wrong. Seems important.

Another time, we were talking about specifics of being a rodent and Helen almost called out an Opossum sitting in the back for thinking he belonged here.  #marsupial But at the last minute figured it might trigger an identity crisis so she kept her dragon mouth shut.  Although, it’s easy to see why the Opossum thought he was a rodent — anyone that attends the RODENTS! talk thinks they are probably a rodent, because, as I keep mentioning, the head rat is amazing.

After the talk, Helen and I debriefed.  “There were a lot of times when I was sitting in the RODENTS! talk I found myself sincerely saying “that’s a good point” or like ” I agree with that” or “Wow! I hadn’t thought of it that way”  to these really CrAzY questions and answers . We learned a lot.

 

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Over the next few days, we really got working on our bingo sheet.

 

 

Helen got to put on a head!

 

 

And EnthusasTICK and Emily found a full-suiter, Bizzy, to bring to our favorite bar, The Warren, which is amazing and supports the furries! They even hung an Anthrocon sign to welcome us!

 

 

 

 

Another time when we were out to eat, a guy named DJ Yoda Fat came up to Molly and said that they had a mutual friend on Facebook. Katie D. said, “Is it Sammi? Because we all also have one mutual friend here, too.” Turns out, the mutual friend was Helen, and when we all turned to look at her it was abundantly  clear she didn’t know who Yoda Fat was. She turned bright red and after a beat said said, “Oh, hello again.”

Beyond playing Furry Bingo, the weekend was filled with spontaneous fun, and we purrrticipated in events that we didn’t even know we wanted to do until we did them — like being asked to be involved in a chain-tail fashion show.  We hadn’t considered non-fluffy tails up to this point. 

 

 

We ate a lot of food (would it be my blog if I didn’t talk about the food?) Of course there was the snack pack (a backpack full of snacks) and the food distribution pillars.   But we also organized other aspects of the food differently this year, like getting orders in advance and having lunches and dinner delivered right to the Con.

 

 

 

 

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Recently, Arcade Comedy Theater had an auction, which I bid on and WON. The prize was that the troop made my life into a musical and I decided, with all my besties there, that furry weekend was the time to use the prize.  I got called up on stage, interviewed (with help from Molly because I did not want to go on stage by myself), and then the entire herd (including me) got to watch a hilarious, well-done musical comedy featuring my best friends played by actors.

We were introduced to Colleen with purple hair (uncanny), Molly the comforter, and PCP (Peace Corps Patrick).  Helen was distinctly missing on stage but she sat next to me in the audience, holding my hand. We all felt like our hearts were so full they could burst.

 

 

 

 

After the show, my herd went to the furry rave and danced our tails off 😉

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another WONDERFUL thing happened. During the convention, Helen found out that she got accepted into the Pittsburgh Comedy Fest!!!

 

 

 

Overall, I had THE BEST time with my herd — fluffin’ tails, tradin’ ears (insidEAR trading?), eatin’ snacks from the snack pack (everybody, say it with me: A BACKPACK FULL OF SNACKS!!), and loving “OUR CITY!” as Katie B. (who comes here quarterly) calls Pittsburgh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This was the best year yet.  Everyone in the herd gave it 2 paws up! Honestly. I thought it couldn’t get any better BUT THEN IT DID ! ! ! ! ! ! !

 

Wag wag WAG THAT NON-TAMPED TAIL,
Furisky, part Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever and part elephant

 

B-A-N-A-N-A-S

This year, my 4th of July was so full of pure and innocent Americana excitement that it could put a Judy Blume novel to shame. So that’s where I’m drawing inspiration from from with this blog, Judy.

The weekend began like any good Blume book would: with a fun group of friends, a summer at a lake, and most importantly, a competition. So without further ado, I present to you:

 

T h e     S u m m e r     o f       t h e       M i g h t y       S l u g s

Chapter One: The Search for Slugs

The day before the 4th of July. Aka the 3rd of July.
My friends and I drove to my parents’ cottage at Findley Lake to soak up some sun, and since this is the year of never ending holidays (see Christmas) — this was going to be my never ending birthday.   My parents decided that since so many of my people (heart eyes) were going to be up at the lake this would also be my families time to celebrate my birthday! Fun!!  

Before we got there, there had been murmurings all over town about the annual boat decorating competition.  “Let’s sign up!” Patrick said last year. “It sounds so playful!” He had planted the seed.  This was going to be the first time we’d ever signed up for the prestigious competition

We found out that the 2018 theme was….drumroll please…. college sports teams!  (?!)  Uh oh.  “So, that’s different than regular sports teams?” – Helen.  

Before the big day my mom and I spent hours scouring the Internet for the most original team we could find. We wanted to think of the perfect mascot to TOTALLY DESTROY the competition (but, like…in a really sweet and innocent way).   Should we channel the Syracuse mascot, the Otto the Orange? No, too east. How about the Ragin’ Cajuns? Seeing as though we’d have to dress up for the competition, we looked at something slightly less racist. We found the perfect team: The UC Santa Cruz Banana Slugs (we’re fans for life). Not only was this the most (respectfully) hilarious mascot I’ve ever heard of but we could easily all dress in yellow, it was like a furry without the fur, and the mascot’s name is legitimately Sammy. So that settled it. We were on our way to complete world domination!  I mean…winning the Findley Lake boat competition!

 

 

Chapter Two: Birthday Banana Slug Bonanza

Like I said before, it was the perfect time to celebrate my birthday (never-ending) since so many people I loved were in the same place at once. And because my parents are creative and absolute gems, they held true to the theme when picking out my birthday cookie cake.

“Can you decorate it with banana slugs?” My parents asked the cake decorator who just stared at them in return. Had no one ever asked them for slug decorations? Not even kids who are into bugs when they’re in 3rd grade?

“Well, what about if  you just decorate it like a butterfly without the wings?” My parents explained. The decorator was on board with this strange request. AND IT WAS PERFECT!  My parents surprised me with the ABSOLUTE cutest cookies with banana slugs on them, and they. were. DELICIOUS!!!

 

 

So we put some candles in the cookies, I closed my eyes with all my might, made a very special birthday wish — I think you know what it was  (if you guessed it was to win the boat decorating competition, you were right.).  And when Brit got me some “lucky me, lucky you” shoes as a birthday gift (thank you, I love them), I couldn’t help but take it as a sign and wonder… will I get what I wished for?

 

 

 

Chapter Three: The Banana Slug Way (aka mostly Katie)

When the first of the guests arrived, we kicked off the decorating process by spending time blowing up hundreds of thousands of yellow balloons! We hadn’t realized how much huffing and puffing Patrick had done until he left (thank you!).

 

 

While I was turning blue by blowing up an obscene amount of yellow balloons, Katie switched jobs and made the most adorable signs in town. They were made with such care and thought, everyone in the banana slug brigade was impressed. If there had been an internal decorating competition for the decorating competition, Katie definitely would’ve won the title of the Banana Slug’s REAL MVP, thank you!!

 

 

 

Chapter Four: Slugs Thrive in the Rain

It was the day of the boat competition. The morning was a flurry of activity. We set up for the competition, and while I ran to the firehall to grab us some chicken for lunch, the rest of the crew headed to the duck race, in which we each had $1,000 riding on our prize-winning duck. Just kidding. But really, there was a lot at stake. Just kidding. But in a Judy Blume novel, our reputation definitely would’ve depended on it which would have been bad because every single one of us had a duck in the competition and every single one of us lost.  We hoped this wasn’t foreshadowing.

 

That afternoon, a dark cloud settled over Lake Findley. Literally. It started raining. So Team Show on the Road (a section of Banana Slug Brigade consisting of Molly and I) headed out to the docks to see what that would mean for the boat decorating competition. We brought a banana slug cookie with us for luck and for sustenance (bananas are fruit). When we reached the tent, the judges told us that the competition was not cancelled, but only pushed back a couple of hours. “Boats-poned” as we started to say. We went back to the house to see if there was any damage done to the signs and decorations we had already put up. Some of them were a little wet, but that didn’t dampen our spirits. After all, slugs thrive in rain!!

 

 

And so once the sun finally came out again over beautiful Findley Lake, we headed to our boat to cheer, scream, clap, and show the judges what the banana slug spirit was all about. We had so much fun, and I had a blast getting to know and bonding with Molly’s boyfriend. He was the first to use the new stove in our house! Life was like salt — we put it on everything.

 

We laughed, we chanted, and we used Gwen Stefani’s song, Hollaback Girl, to make sure everyone knew we were B-A-N-A-N-A-S. (If you don’t use that song to spell bananas every time, you’re lying.)

 

 

As we drove around the second half of the 5-mile lake, we had trouble chanting, screaming, and getting up the hype. Banana slugs must go into hibernation when they reach the second half of the lake. But thank goodness we had already been judged because some of balloons were popping in the heat.  It was that first time we had passed the judges that they had made their decision, inspecting the boats. We had eyed-up the competition. We were mostly worried about a beauty school swim team made up of mature women, which was a crowd favorite. If this were in true Blume fashion, they would’ve been our lifelong rivals and hurled schoolyard insults at us or given us the stink eye. But they didn’t, in fact, they seemed nice. We kept our eye on another boat, too. The one that chose Penn State as their college team. “They’re a shoo-in. Of course the crowd is going to choose Penn State!” my mom lamented.

“Don’t give up just yet!” said Brit with a huge grin. “I have one last trick up my sleeve.” And with that, she brought out some bananas with drawn-on faces.

“For the judges.” She said. And so the banana slug brigade threw out the bananas to the judges — making sure none landed in the lake — as something sweet to remember us by.

 

 

Chapter Five: And the Winner Is…

A quiet hush descended upon the competitors. We watched the judges in silence as they took the megaphone to announce the winners. 

“And the winner is….” The announcer began.

We bit our nails in suspense.

“THE UC SANTA CRUZ BANANA SLUGS!!!!”

*******The whole population of Findley Lake erupted in boisterous cheers. It was louder than a Penn State football stadium! Everyone came to congratulate us because they knew how hard Katie worked on the amazing posters, which, for sure got us the win. That, and the epic balloons everywhere and the bananas we threw at the judges.

“I always knew you could do it.” Said some guy who we had never met before.

“You’re my heroes!” Said a kid who swam up to our boat out of nowhere.

We were presented with the trophy, and I thanked Sammy the Slug who had undoubtedly heard my birthday wish.*******

 

*******Section may be a dramatized version of real events.*******

 

 

 

The only thing we (or rather Katie) lost were a few Instagram followers due to the wild stories she was posting out of context. Molly was on epic cleanup (thank you!) And seperatly, Colleen orchestrated a very helpful family talk. With that HUGE win in our pockets, we settled in to enjoy the rest of the evening. We watched the 4th of July fireworks from the boat with smiles on our faces.

“The fireworks are good, but the trophy is better.” My mom said as she patted me on the back.

And when the judges announced the theme for next year, most people got excited. The theme? Favorite band.  Will the banana slugs be back again to rock the boat?!

 

THE END,
Sammi the slug

Here is some inventory of all of the wonderful, not gloomy events June had to offer:

• First and foremost, celebrating Father’s Day with this guy.

 

• I love Flag Day.  Well, if I had to explain myself (which I don’t), I would say because it’s the Vanessa Carlton of holidays. It’s still famous, but you know, you might just forget about it until someone reminds you it exists #StayHumble
• My un-furr-gettable box of furry tails and ears came out.
• Colleen (hi, Colleen) delivered some crazy insane news that I’m so excited about and I love her (love you, Colleen)!
• Getting pineapple panang curry at the dream flat whenever we had a hankering for it (we now keep some pineapples at our house to avoid the upcharge).
• For the second time ever, I got to see a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling retriever.  #hisnameisJack
• Got my shiitake (mushrooms) off Amazon and started growing them inside.
• An almost-gloomy failed trip to Kentucky, which turned into non-gloomy workout at a new YMCA in West Virginia.
• Kristin’s pool party where we had so much fun we never made it to the pool. I’m tellin’ you, if you actually get into the pool at a pool party, you’re not doing it right.
• Separated my notebook from my to-do list. Real game-changer, guys.
• Enjoyed some cool watermelon mules (is there anything more summer than this?)
• Scooter rides with Spencer.
• Got lei’d at the Hawaiian theme day at work.
• Got to drive Krupa’s Tesla (um, what?). The whole time, I sang, “I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m ALIVE!”
• Emily and I went bouldering and mastered a V1 (see footnote if you want to know what that means, but it’s really not necessary… so don’t… )
• Impromptu hangout sesh with Sarah where we talked about how people love saying they hate math but are afraid to say they hate reading. Math=cats; reading=dogs. She’s trying to encourage people to say “I don’t like reading” more…I’m in total support. Can we make t-shirts?
• Bella and I got to play doubles tennis with the Emilies. It was so much fun, and Bel and I laughed so hard that we actually needed to remind each other how to play. Our conversations mostly went something like: “So, when I hit this, I’m going to run forward, and you’re going to run backwards.” Great game plan: just learn how to play your position. For dessert, we got snow cones, which was also an un-gloomy bonus.

 

One of the best parts of June was getting to hang out with my friends and enjoy silly moments together. For example, a caterpillar fell from a tree and landed on Emily. She overreacted (I mean…really overreacted), and then Helen overreacted to Emily’s overreaction (her overreaction included drool). Helen admitted that she thought we were under attack, and she lost all her control over her motor skills. I couldn’t help but think that would be a hilarious trait for a character to have in a post apocalyptic movie.

  

 

Another stand out was going to get hookah with Emily. The hours were wrong online (gonna write a bad yelp review for the misleading yelp reviews), so we waited a while for the place to actually open, BUT I think we can all safely say that a rose-flavored hookah is well worth the wait.

And now for the food portion of the blog (because didn’t we all know that was coming anyway?). June was greeeeeat for my food finds. For example, I found this incredible crepe place in Pittsburgh. Had no idea it was there, but fate brought us together, and I’m sure it will make regular appearances in my life.

 

Another great food find was the chocolate chip cookie that had been sitting in our fridge since early May. We finally ate it, and just like the hookah, it was well worth the wait. 

 

 

 

I hung out a lot with Helen, who through most of June was sporting a black eye. No, we didn’t start our own version of Fight Club. She actually got hit in the face (hostage GETHIT) while playing frisbee with a doctor (the doctor is to blame). Hurt by a healer before her first ever headlining gig. The incomparable Katie B came in from NYC!  Back to Pittsburgh for her “”aww, this is where I fell in love with Siri”.   We didn’t have much time to hang out while she was there; however, we designated a full 16 minutes for some non-regimented fun. We actually set a timer because, you know, fun follows a very strict schedule.

Speaking of non-regimented fun, PRIDE was allll weekend long, so I got to hang with the gays for days. I skipped work on Friday to partake in the festivities (I mean…I was sick…*cough*)

 

During the Pittsburgh PRIDE parade, Helen and I got to rep Arcade Comedy by holding the banner.  We were extra Proud.  Our chants consisted of “This is what comedy looks like” and “Laughs for all.” We also quietly incorporated the song “Please don’t stop the music” and changed the lyrics to “Please don’t drop this banner.” Because…you know, holding the banner is harder than it looks, yinz.

We were marching when we learned that there were more people at Pittsburghs Gay Pride parade this year than at our St. Patricks Day parade (Pittsburghs previously biggest parade!) So PROUD!!! We saw fabulous outfits, including a Harry Potter style shirt that says “No one deserves to live in a closet.”  Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

To the parade, I wore my shirt that said “I’m here for Kristin.” I just wanted to clarify, she’s not dead. In fact, she’s alive, well, livin’ a good life. She just couldn’t make it to the parade that day.

 

 

During the month of June, I also decided to avoid the (totally mythical) gloom and host a couch surfer. We met up with Dominic, a french speaking CouchSurfer from Montreal, at the hippest gay bar in town. He was so great and made made feel like a total bamf because, not to make it about me, but I went to pride and took a straight guy home. Ok, so yeah, he was already going to come sleep at my house anyways but just let me have this, okay?

 

 

June was full of me getting even more comfortable with work:
What do you do in a one word answer: Sales
What kind of sales:  Entertainment
What kind of entertainment: Visual but enough about me

“I tell people I do for a living what you do for fun.” – Spencer, bar owner

 

 

June was great for hanging with friends, making friends, and being an ally. Besides Dominic, I also hosted a couch surfer from Spain. I took him out on a midnight scooter ride and sat on the porch with Bel, practicing Spanish, and listening to Helen talk about how she hadn’t seen that many fireflies since she was in Thailand.  

 

Below are two of my favorite pictures ever, taken of Bel and Bam:

 

Overall, June was a success. And I almost — ALMOST– was able to post in real time. Almost.

Here’s to July!  I mean August!
‘mi

 

Footnote:   I told you not to…It’s out of V10, ok…?

BANDERA, TEXAS  —   My Mecca ❤

 

 

As Team Show on the Road is want to do, we got ready in a Burger King bathroom before heading to one of the five bars in literally all of Bandera.

 

 

We chose the first bar by pure intuition, but before we even stepped inside, some woman who was talking on the phone outside directed us to another bar, which she said had better music. So that was one bar down, four to go. We ended up at The Red Horse Saloon, sharing earplugs, and if you can’t tell what kind of place it is by the name, then you’ve never seen a cowboy movie in your life. Nancy had told me to tell the bartender it was my birthday (because it was) and I’d get a free drink. And, in true traveler fashion, we met some friends: Carla, Elbert, and Don.  Our new cowboy friends were so much fun to be around and changed the course of our night — they were very kind, gentle, respectful, and encouraging. They even taught us how to two-step!

The small town feel was something you’d see in an episode of Gilmore Girls, except the country western version. For example, they held a raffle and the person who won wasn’t at the bar to collect it, but all the patrons at the bar knew the winner so they just saved the prize to give to them later.  The personality of the band members matters in a community bar like this one. The singer kept calling me up on stage and, in order to not get even more attention, I had to go but that was my least favorite part.

 

It was such a small town, the residents couldn’t believe that we just came here on our own volition, for vacation, without having any reason…
“Wait, so…you came to Bandera as tourists?”  Yup!
You don’t have any family here?”  Nope!
“You just picked it off the map?!” I mean, I did some research..

 

 

So after that live music ended, we decided to head over to another bar — Arky’s Silver Dollar — with Carla where there was sawdust on the ground. She introduced us to Arky (from the name of the bar) but when we were greeted by the cast of Sons of Anarchy, we realized this biker bar probably wasn’t our scene. Again, on intuition, we chose another bar one block away (2 bars to go) and hoped that we’d be able to find anyone our own age. All of Bandera is only a couple of blocks long. Of the 5 bars in this town there were 3 bars we could choose from downtown, all walking distance, which felt like a bonanza.  We were going to make the best out of anything (we were having fun) but where did the young adults hang out? Where was our crowd? So far, we hadn’t seen anyone under the age of 50 chilling in Bandera during the weekend.

 

But it was there at that 4th bar that we saw some young cowboys.  And they saw us. They sauntered over to us with their cowboy hats, boots, and their lone-star-studded belts.  “Hey little ladies,” they said, “you’re about the hottest, darn girls in this here saloon.” Ok, maybe they didn’t talk like a cartoon version of themselves (but yes, they did).  And it was supposed to be a compliment, but we had a huge laugh because their pickup line was pretty much equivalent to “you’re the hottest girls in this nursing home,” with all due respect to everyone who had brought us there.

The boys danced with us and everyone was working on the two step.  Even though I could not figure it out, my partners were patient. Each time Zane complimented me, I messed up without fail, and we had to start over.  Which was hilarious to me and tolerable to him.

 

 

So we danced all night in this very rural town — with two step — with live country music, and some cowboys until sadly, eventually, the bars closed and we hung out in the streets of Bandera, Texas.  It was a very memorable birthday. Molly was outside of the bar in her happy place — this birthday trip was turning into a wild (Wild West) success. I was loving the cowboy look and vibe just as much as I thought I was going to, if not more.

 

The boys had only been to Bandera 2 or 3 times this year (they lived in a town about 40 minutes away called Hondo). They said that where they live is the type of place you town hop instead of bar hop because that’s where the other bars are: in other towns. Doesn’t get any more small town Texas than that. I loved it.

The boys asked where we were staying (which was the luxurious back-seat-of-our-car inn) and we replied with a vague “just down the road.”  They had some space at their ranch where we could spend the night if we wanted.  An invitation to an authentic Texan ranch from really nice authentic cowboys? Yes please!

And then as we drove our rental on these big empty, Texas dirt roads behind multiple trucks to follow these nice guys to their ranch, we saw a Trump sticker on one of my favorite of the guys’ trucks. We weren’t surprised, but I definitely made a mental note to avoid talking politics if I could help it.

 

 

The next morning, I literally woke up laughing. I could not believe how well my birthday had gone. An ice cream festival to THIS!  Wow. I decided that I hadn’t grilled the guys enough about small town life. I wanted a taste of it because I assumed it would taste like hard work, sweat, and sweet tea. Who doesn’t want that? So I asked them the basics first: when was the last time you’ve seen a snake? (Zane couldn’t remember); Will you call me ‘little lady?’ (the answer was ‘absolutely, little lady.”). They also talked about Mexico and how they had gone hunting there before. Zane said he had caught something and brought it back. I asked him if it spoke Spanish. And said “so I guess it didn’t need a green card?”  This was my transition into the tougher questions like: Where are the immigrants being separated from their kids? To this question, Zane got out a map and showed me the area then asked Kyle just to confirm, to which Kyle denied that it was even taking place and that it was the liberal agenda carried out by the media.

So I guess they had had enough grilling, because Zane flipped the tables and asked me some questions. “What do you think about our president?” To which I answered, thinking about the bumper sticker, “we probably shouldn’t talk about politics.” He said he was a Republican though he didn’t care too much for Trump; I said I hated Trump, and we left it at that. Molly was smart, because her response was: “I don’t want to talk about politics with you guys, I can see the heads hanging on the wall.” We all laughed (some of us more uncomfortably than others). Good call, Moodel.

Rattlesnakes were the next best topic of conversation (after we saw a scorpion in the sink), and we figured out that rattlesnakes were the reason the sexy cowboy boots exist. We also found out that all of these cowboys knew each other because their ancestors founded the town. There was a picture of two of their grandfathers back in the day; Zane said his grandpa wasn’t in the picture because he was the one taking it!  

 

Side note:  Molly and I bought our own pair of matching cowboy boots.  I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, OH MY GOODNESS. We bought them at a Texas-sized outlet mall in a shop called Boot City! The clothes may change, but the accessories will remain the same…boots and belts with a big buckle.  Also turquoise is my new favorite color.

 

The boys invited us to go out onto the lake with them in their boat. We parted ways with them (they were going to fix up the boat, and we were going to eat breakfast tacos).  Kyle said “okay, this is where you go right and we got left.” “So, the opposite of our political views?” I smiled. “Haha, yup, we’re going to go and try and see it from the others perspective and meet back up in the middle.”  

We finally got cell phone service and canceled our plans on the river with Carla, telling her, instead, we had agreed to let the cowboys show us around (Carla, if you’re reading this, IT WAS SO NICE TO MEET YOU!!!! Thank you and Elbert and Don for making my birthday so special <3).

 

 

On the way to Lake Medina, we had had enough of talking so we listened to Pat Green and made up a song about how we were the four best friends that anyone could have because we realized that they were best friends, and Molly and I are best friends. It made the day so easy, because we were just a pair of best friends hangin out and doin best friend things. “We’re the four best friends that anyone can have, the four best friends that anyone can have.”  It was heaven on earth…and here we were thinking you had to die to go to heaven. Molly and I snuggled and confirmed how straight we are. Definitely straight. Molly and I had such a great trip together.

 

Once we actually got on the boat (which was pretty rickety as demonstrated by the story I’m about to tell), the motor caught on fire twice. But both the boys looked really calm, so we didn’t freak out. “I don’t look like a guy who’s boat engine just caught on fire — just for a little while.”  – Kyle

 

The second time, it caught on fire a little bit more, and the motor cover actually fell off and just sank, and the guys were incredulous. They looked sunken like a motor cover themselves. It was hilarious; we tried not to be so giddy, we were laughing so hard.  

But this gave way to our next chant — the one that would follow our best friend song. And it goes a little somethin’ like this:

Who don’t need no motor cover??? We don’t need no motor cover!!

 

We chanted that all during our swim sesh. Right as we started the chant, the umbrella that was protecting us from the absolutely ruthless sun somehow blew off, landed in the water, and started to sink. Zane yelled to grab it, and I swam for it. I grabbed it, and it was terribly heavy as it sank, but all of a sudden, I received superhuman strength and was able to pull it up. Only, it wasn’t superhuman strength. The umbrella had just detached from the pole, and I only pulled up the staff. Molly was laughing so hard she was having trouble swimming. She tried to get to the boat to hang out and when she finally got there she let out the loudest laughs. Was this the sun’s revenge for the coffee stunt we pulled earlier that weekend? Well played, sun.

On the boat we had a cooler, but somehow we still ended up drinking a couple of hot mic ultras, which were extra bubbly.  Served hot was fun too. We were just happy about everything.

After swimming, Molly and I had to say fare-thee-well to our cowboys and head to a dude ranch where we booked a night to stay. At the dude ranch, we ate a dinner of cold meatloaf, lots of smores, drank gross tasting water, saw a donkey with goiters, met a French au pair “couple” where I was attracted to the man in a cowboy hat at night but by day, sans cowboy hat, I thought the lady was more of a beauty. We also had our first shower of the trip (this was going to be a no hair washing and one shower type of vacation for us), we slept for 8 hours (unheard of!), and in the morning we rode horses.

 

Before going on the trip, Molly and I had pretty much agreed that we were going pantless for this trip. But when we got to the dude ranch…it was the first time we thought we might have made a mistake.  Did we have to wear pants to ride the horses?? We used a towel tied around our legs instead, which got vetoed, and we realized that it was fine, we don’t need pants to ride horses. A no-pants trip was the right idea!

 

The horseback riding was cool — and it was hilarious (and relatable) how much the horses loved eating from the oatbags — but it was a bit long. My horse, Shorty, did not want to follow the directions. I assume it’s because I’d just turned 31 and this was an angsty teen horse who wasn’t into authority. Shorty even tried to buck me off; he could tell it was my first rodeo. I did get that birthday buck after all (wink).  But luckily, a more experienced rider decided to switch with me, and it was smooth horse riding after that.

 

So after the dude ranch, we headed back to the airport. Molly liked driving these big open roads, and we searched for a place to get a wine opener because we wanted to try that great Texas wine that we had bought and assumed we would love. But before we made it, we stopped to get our last bbq of the trip.

 

I got some to go, and let me tell you, airport security was really suspicious of my pulled pork and jalapeno sausage from Randy’s (but really, they probably wanted to confiscate it so they could have a snack during their work break).  It was sooooo good! At Randy’s, they had greeted us with a cheer and free samples including sweet, creamy corn, which we subsequently ordered and banana pudding for dessert). It was also at the airport when Team Show on the Road struck again! We were able to squeeze in enough time for a drink before our flight. The last thing we had in the car that was useful were those empty water bottles. We felt like asterisk humans, except for that healer who wouldn’t take no for an answer. But that was on him; we were fine.

I left this trip feeling very validated in choosing Texas as my birthday destination. It was the absolute best place to go with my best friend who makes my life better. SO GLAD WE DID THAT! It was also amazing to go somewhere that you thought you’d like, but come away loving it even more than you thought you would. We felt like we were doing a victory lap (with lots of slow claps) on the way from Bandera driving back to Austin. This was such a rejuvenating, idyllic, heavenly, euphoric, out-of-body experience sort of trip, and I will cherish this one ALWAYS. Texas forever!

‘mi, the yankee 🤠

 

 

 

 

For my birthday, Molly and I had a girls trip —  just the two of us — to South Central Texas. We landed in Austin (which I saw first hand has an international feel) and learned about all of the Californians who have moved to Austin, Texas (I can see why; it’s a really cool city).

 

 

 

As I got off the plane and read her message, I couldn’t help but look down at my really dramatic fake cowboy boots. Me too, girl. I thought. Me too! I couldn’t wait to meet her at the terminal and get the party started, but unfortunately budget travel wasn’t as “happy for our fun” as we were, and it took me over 30 minutes to get to her. HOWEVER, I was keeping in touch through text and also by checking her Instagram account for hilarious updates.

When we finally met up, my cowboy boots and her beer signaled that the party had, indeed, started, so we picked up our rental car and went straight on the Broken Spoke, a country western bar in Austin that has a live band, Lone Star beer, cowboy hats, belt buckles, and a ton of dancing.

 

We left after an hour because later in our trip we were planning to head into what I call the heart of Texas. And so we wanted to enjoy other unique things that Austin had to offer including food trucks and a bar called Academia (recommended by Spencer). In classic Team Show on the Road style (we’re back!), we changed in the car.  

In Austin, they have this amazing rule where you can park overnight, and if you get a ticket in the morning when the meters start again, the fine gets waived as long as you show proof that you got home in some other way besides driving (i.e., uber receipt, bus ticket). It’s an incredible initiative that encourages Austinites (and tourists) to both go downtown and to get home safely. We were very impressed with Austin.

While we were at Academia, we were served delicious crab cakes (hot ‘n fresh out the kitchen) and rung in my actual birthday with some peanut butter onions (which were Hemingway’s favorite snack apparently). Right after midnight, we headed out and walked briskly along 6th street towards Rainey Street, which was food truck heaven. That night, we got food everywhere, as if the birthday party was catered. We fantasized about being back into Austin early enough on Sunday to enjoy brunch on this chic street. We heard Sundays are the best.

Walking back, to check into the hotel, we saw our very first Texas horse in the form of a (very hot) policeman riding cavalry. Molly asked if we could pet it (the horse…not the policeman), AND WE COULD. With huge smiles, we got back to the hotel at 4am.

 

——————————

Saturday, June 23rd, my actual birthday.

Could we have slept in? No, it was not possible. We had somewhere to be. There was a literal ICE CREAM FESTIVAL on my birthday. It was kind of fate, the way that it happened. Thank you, universe! I had known about the ice cream festival in advance and bought us VIP passes, which allowed us to enter at 9AM–a full hour before everyone else–giving us a leg up on all the ice cream tasting. Not that it’s a competition. OH WAIT. YES IT IS.

But first, as we were RUSHING out the door, we grabbed breakfast to go from the buffet at the hotel — 2 hard boiled eggs each — “and thank god for them.” – Molly said later, after all of the cream had settled in our bellies.

 

8:45am

We were in the front of the line. Waiting. WHEN WOULD THEY OPEN THE GATES!!!!!
Molly and I were one of the first 20 people to get in and as soon as we did, we headed straight for the ice cream eating competition sign-ups because we were completely certain that the contests were going to fill up as soon as the festival doors opened. Right then, we committed to two contests: the hands-free ice cream sandwich eating competition and the half-gallon ice cream eating contest.

 

 

While we were waiting for the competition to start, we took our ice cream sample passbook around, which allowed us to try 26 sample cups of ice cream. We were at a Texas-sized ICE CREAM FESTIVAL!!!

 

Keep in mind, this is Texas, and everything is bigger here so the sample cups were like a Baskin Robbins medium.

 

 

 

 

 

We contemplated but couldn’t figure out: How does this festival make any money, they are giving so much ice cream away for free??

 

10:40am

Initially, when I had seen that we only got 26 samples, I was pretty confident that I wasn’t going to get enough ice cream to eat. But with only 20 minutes before the ice cream eating competition was to begin Molly and I looked at each other. We needed an ice cream break. We had already gotten enough ice cream, and the first (of 2) competitions hadn’t even started yet.  We sat for 20 minutes and reviewed, revisited, and categorized all the samples we had had up to this point. To clear our heads and mentally prepare for the competition, we ranked all of the samples a scale of 1-5 based on both taste and presentation.

 

11:00am

Because it was my actual birthday, I felt like I was (literally) born to do this ice cream eating competition.

 

 

 

At the beginning of the hands free ice cream sandwich eating competition, Molly and I were pretty sure we had this. I mean, as I mentioned earlier, I was literally born to do this.

 

 

 

 

 

The winner looked like she deserved to win– if you know what I mean. 😉

And there are no losers if you get lucky enough to enter an ice cream sandwich eating competition. Because whenever you’re in an ice cream eating competition, you can only win. [Unless maybe it’s who could eat the most (because oh man you’d want to win but you’d also get sick)].   

By the end of that first competition, when we were so full of ice cream we could burst but still had more samples to try, Molly and I crawled over to that second ice cream competition sign up sheet and….just… drew a line through our names. Because even we, ice cream fiends, realized that without that half-gallon eating competition, we were STILL going to have gotten much too much ice cream for one day.  

 

11:15 am

It was scorching, the festival was packed, and we still had 9 more samples to try. Molly and I — rather than hanging out with each other during the rest of the festival — had our priorities straight. We would divide and conquer the lines. One of us would wait with both passbooks, get our two samples, and meet the other girl in her longer line while we ate them.  Then we would split up again. WE WERE COMMITTED. We tried ALL the possible things including buying a bonus $1 cookie that looked too good to skip. I had brought the right girl with me to this festival. Molly did NOT let me give up. She insisted that we try everything available to us, and that smart girl wasn’t wrong. We were in heaven (and also a little bit of hell. BUT MOSTLY HEAVEN).

 

12:00pm

 

After three hours of nonstop ice cream devouring, Molly and I had tried every. single. sample that we could, entered and lost one ice cream eating competition, and were so hot and full of cream and sugar that we had to sit in the shade and regroup.   

 

We contemplated our next meal. Should we eat something healthy or just not eat at all?  What would help us feel better? We rolled out of the gate back to our car.

 

---

 

 

Obviously, we weren’t going to choose not to eat. We went to Curma — a vegan, ayurveda food truck with mostly non-cooked food that Tara had recommended.  

 

 

We got back into the car so sticky and sweaty (Texas is hot in June), blasted the AC (it would not get cold enough), and headed out of Austin. The first place I had marked on my map–about an hour away–was a barbeque place called SaltLick, which also had come to me on a recommendation this time via a former NFL player who had said this about it…. “ it is my favorite BBQ of all time, not just in Texas.”

You may be thinking Ha! I know you just kept on driving. You *had* to have been too full. And if you think that, you’re most definitely wrong…

 

We stopped at Salt Lick and had some of THE MOST INCREDIBLE BBQ. It was so good that, as full as we were, we considered ordering more of it. But that’s it. We only considered it, I promise.

 

———–

We could not eat anymore.  Mercy! And we went to do look in some cute stores as we headed through beautiful scenery and into Wimberley, Texas. We shopped around a little, and Molly bought me these gold Texas earrings, which I love.   But other than that, exhaustion set in and it was way too hot to do anything. We lounged around a bit and cursed the sun. It was so hot. Too hot. Oppressively hot. What could we do besides talk about how hot it was?! Seriously.  It was So. Hot. But then, at 3pm, we had a brilliant idea. We beat the sun with coffee beans, the sun’s arch nemesis (which the sun ironically helps grow). WE GOT SOME COFFEE. COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE!!!!! Take that, son! ← hehe, get it?

 

 

 

 

Back on the road again, Molly and I had our sights set on Bandera, Texas. We ate some homegrown corn she had brought down with her from LA for a light dinner (thank you to Sophie for our delicious, locally imported birthday meal).

 

June 23rd —  Here’s a menu for the Team Show on the Road diet:

Breakfast:      Ice cream, and lots of it
Lunch:           Vegetables or anything vegan
2nd Lunch:   Ribs
Dinner:          Corn on the cob (from LA) and Beer

 

I think the moral of the story, for me, is this:  If you ever find yourself in Austin, try 26 ice cream samples — even if there’s no ice cream festival, eat from food trucks, try to make it back into town for a Sunday, pet a policeman’s horse (proceed with caution), drink COFFEE, and head towards Bandera.   

 

Happy birthday to ‘mi, y’all!!!

 

 

 

 

13 DAYS 17 HOURS 54 MINUTES and 10 SECONDS

(AND I WON’T BOTHER TO ASK WHO’S COUNTING because I know my entire herd is! They’re about to join me in Pittsfurgh from their respective farms, kennels, plains, jungles, and petting zoos  — YA HEARD?!)

 

Anthrocon 2018 is ALMOST HERE!!!!!!!!
AWOOOOOOOOOO
Oww Oww Owwww
AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Here’s art that Katie B. made ahead of this year’s convention:

 

 

 

 

Like a monkey grooming another monkey for bugs, I’ve (already) meticulously looked through this years schedule and picked out 43 events that I would deem as “CAN’T BE MISSED!”

Including…

 

 

 

 

 

Molly horsing around:

 

SO GIDDY TO PLAY, ROLL OVER, CHASE, PLAY, SNUGGLE, WAG, and DID-I-MENTION PLAY! !!!!!  !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

I’M SO EXCITED I COULD CHASE MY OWN TAIL!
I woof this weekend,
Furisky (a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever who is also an elephant and is also your human fur-iend, Sammi)

 

Links to a Hist-fury of Blog Posts:

2017:  https://sammitravis.wordpress.com/2017/07/07/anthrocon-2017/
2016: https://sammitravis.wordpress.com/2016/10/15/bow-wow-wow-yippie-yo-yippie-yay/
2015: https://sammitravis.wordpress.com/2015/12/15/riddled-with-glee/
2013: https://sammitravis.wordpress.com/2013/07/20/pitts-fur-gh-pa/
UPDATE: Since I’ve written this the ANTHROCOUNTDOWN IS NOW…

13 DAYS 17 HOURS 24 MINUTES and 19 SECONDS  

 

I try to go back to Jamaica every year to visit my community, to hang with the family who hosted me while I was in the Peace Corps, and to brush up on a culture and language that I once felt fluent in. I had recently visited sick Momma (RIP) and this trip, six months later, was as close as I could get to attending her funeral. Also, I visit Jamaica to feel one of my favorite feelings in the world, which is coming back from Jamaica into the United States.

So I arrived at the airport in Montego Bay, and the first taxi tried to rip me off as I walked outside into the sweltering heat. Sure, I maybe looked like an outsider, but on the inside, I’m a yardie. I rolled my eyes, told him to stop the car if that’s how much he was going to charge me, and I got out, choosing instead to walk the 45 minutes from the Montego Bay airport into downtown. Now, if you can imagine hot temperatures and a wall of humidity like I can, then you’ll understand how it felt to walk that cement lined road – with lots of horns and lots of crazy driving – into downtown Mo Bay Mo Bay Mo Bay.

This trip, I was starting on the north coast, a place where Tyra had lived and I hardly knew. But I wanted to see her and OJ — and last time they had come to Elim. So after eating some patty and Jamaican fruit (it was mango season), I boarded a bus to Ochi Ochi Ochi (why not Ocho, Ocho, Ocho?). Note: In my opinion the sweetest fruit in the world, with heaps of variety, can be found in Jamaican street markets.

Anyways, several hours later I finally made it to the stoplight in Salem where I met the wonderful Tyra, who was generous enough to let me stay with her for two nights. I wasn’t too familiar with this part of the island since my site had been so far from here (like a full 6 hours) but seeing Tyra was a priority.

 

Observation: It’s so sunny and people don’t wear sunglasses here.

 

 

 

 

As Tyra and I were in the car together, she was on the phone when it hung up on someone. She said: “mi phone hang up, it not have no manners.” I missed this country, I missed this language, and I missed her! She told me my patois (the language, which is also known as English-based Creole) has gotten way worse from when I lived here, which was probably true It will never be as good as it was then, which is okay as long as I can understand it.

As we kept driving along, a mongoose ran across the road and never looked back. Tyra pointed it out and reminded me that it was a sign of good luck! And you know what? I believe it did bring good luck, because not only did Tyra make it to work on time (which doesn’t seem like it would be good luck, but in Jamaica it’s very much so) but also, while she was away, I had some good luck of my own:

You know how when you go somewhere really hot and all you want is ice cream…and water, I guess, but mainly ice cream? Well, ice cream is pretty scarce in Jamaica. In fact, anything that gets that cold is pretty scarce in Jamaica. I think this is mostly (or 100% completely) due to the fact that electricity is so expensive. They rarely even have air conditioning, and if they do, it’s like air condition that’s still buffering. But — probably thanks to that lucky mongoose (or due to the fact that I was in Ochi and not Elim) — I came across a Scoopy’s ice cream shop. But as is sometimes the case with bouts of luck from a mongoose and granted wishes from rodents, you get what you want — but not quite in the way you ask. There were only 3 flavor options (fine! I only need one!). I chose  and ordered vanilla pine, which I mistakenly heard as “vanilla pie.”

Of course it wasn’t vanilla pie because (a) what is that? And (b) how would a mongoose granting wishes know that that is? Looking around the shop at other flavors — chocolate raisin, orange thyme (just kidding, but it’s possible), I realized that Scoopy’s choice was like Sophie’s choice… except with all bad decisions.

*Sigh*. I’ll tell you though, ice cream is ice cream, and good luck is good luck. I enjoyed my melty vanilla pine, ate the entire thing, said thank you, and my ice cream craving was put at ease (for about an hour).

It was also in Ochi that I also began my search for the best fried chicken. You haven’t lived…truly lived until you’ve had the fried chicken in Jamaica. It is absolutely glorious. And maybe it was my mongoose luck, but I definitely found what I was looking for.

Not only was this fried chicken incredible, but also it brought back so many memories of when I lived here. So it was tasty, but, especially with the rice and peas, it was also nostalgic.

 

 

I headed back to Tyra’s to take a nice cold shower (she only has cold water, so, again, it’s like Sophie’s only choice, but this time the right choice) and went to bed. Just moving around in Jamaica is exhausting.

The next day I decided to treat myself, went to touch di road, and headed for a swim in the Caribbean Sea (which, no surprise here, is also not cold). Most of the gorgeous beaches in this part of the world are privatized and owned by resorts (some really shady business going on here, which is infuriating as a local), but I managed to walk far enough to find this fishing spot, where I went for a dip.

 

 

 

 

I followed the exercise with a hearty breakfast. Because I was on the north coast, it was relatively easy to find exactly what I was looking for…

..a traditional Jamaican breakfast (I got mine without the saltfish, which although is the national dish, is also imported from Alaska. Oh, Jamaica.). The food was delicious and oily. And for those of you who don’t know (which is probably all of you except Patrick — hi Patrick!), Ackee is the yellow stuff in the middle that looks like eggs. It doesn’t taste like eggs — I wouldn’t say it’s better, but it is good and it is different — and it does actually grow on trees. I was so excited about eating a traditional Jamaican breakfast that I texted Tyra that I was eating Ackee. Since, you know, “Ackee” is not a word I use often, autocorrect changed it to say that I was eating a Jew. Talk about lost in translation. Along with my Ackee, I also enjoyed a side of bread fruit, which is more bread than fruit (and also grows on trees), and my favorite type of actual bread — festival bread, which is like a party in your mouth. Festival is so good that one time Patrick and I entered and won a hamburger cooking competition at Giant Eagle using homemade festival as the bun.

Speaking of party….
I was invited to my first Jamaican baby shower at Lisa’s (Tyra’s sister) . Now, baby showers are a huge deal in the US, but not so much in Jamaica. A lot of the guests at the party told me that this was also, actually their first baby shower too. But it did not disappoint, because it started 6 hours late with a prayer, and was filled with hilarious games and a ton of fun, photos, and laughter.

 

Some of the best games included a race to see which man could put on a baby nappy on a stuffed animal correctly and, my favorite — pictured below — was the game where the men gave birth to their newborn balloons with no hands. The catch phrase for the game? “Daddy is good at getting the belly big, but now what does he do if him have a big belly?” Priceless.

 

Another awesome part of being up north and being at the baby shower was that I got to meet the rest of Tyra’s family. I was able to meet her mom, who I had never met before, and her 6 siblings.

 

 

So after spending a great few days with Tyra and her family, I headed out to Elim (which.. if you don’t know by now, you really gotta start paying attention) where my Peace Corps site was. I never had a problem sticking to my Peace Corps budget when I was in Elim — there was hardly anything to spend money on — and this trip so far had been cost-efficient because Tyra had let me stay with her. Rather than rent a car, and not just because I popped a tire  immediately last time, I decided that I would appreciate Pittsburgh more if I continued living like a local here in Jamaica. Not to mention that I had given Tyra all of my money for OJ’s schooling.

Now, the public transportation in Jamaica is efficient, but also very cramped and hot. And it took over 6 hours to get to Elim. So, since we stopped in lots of towns along the way, I got out every hour and a half, walked round, stretched my legs, convinced myself I wasn’t car sick (reverse psychology does not work), ate some fruit, and eventually caught another bus to the next town. It was nice to get a break from the smell, the heat, and the lack of space. It rained when I was in Mandeville, and within minutes, the streets were flooding because of horrible drainage designs, which meant that I had to walk through nasty, dirty garbage water. Time to get back on the bus.

On these buses, which are actually kind of just vans, we are required to sit 5 to a row. They lay out a seat with no back, a cross seat, to make more seating options. I had to take 6 vans or taxis to make it to my old community. Each time I was on a bus and someone wanted to get off I was ecstatic because that meant we were only sitting 4 or even to a row — so. much. room. It’s amazing when you’re so cramped that being cramped (but less cramped) will have you feeling grateful. Or if your seat doesn’t have a back but then you get one how nice that feels.

 

So as I got more inland, the thicker the patwa and the more aggressive the street vendors, and the fewer people were used to seeing foreigners. The marketing tactics included yelling and shoving the product in my face. Not very effective. I mean, maybe I’ll change my mind about buying a bootleg movie or banana chips but I’m definitely not going to change my mind, taxi driver, that I want to go to a different part of the island instead. Like, you’re not going to convince me I need a taxi to Negril.

All of the taxis were listening to the exact same radio station, which offered very strange medical advice (“if you drink water the correct way, you may never have to go to the doctor again”), and were spewing anti-gay statements.

 

 

There was so much loud music and tons of noise and bustle everywhere. But also just friendly people who want to interact and be seen. I was very happy and sufficiently sweaty when I finally made it to Elim.

 

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Elim

Let me reiterate, it took the better part of a very hot, long, winding, aggressive day to get from Ochi to Elim.

 

I stopped at a grocery store in Santa Cruz (no, not California) before I got to Elim because I knew there would be hardly anything I could buy once I arrived in my very rural community. And as I was strolling through the aisles of my old stomping grounds, I remembered how I would come here for fun when I was living in Elim. Yes. You heard correctly. I would come to this grocery store, which was not air conditioned, already dripping with sweat, and try to make decisions on what to buy, even though it was near impossible to make any kind of decision because I was so hot. They don’t sell  cheese or ice cream (where’s a mongoose when you need it?), and I hardly had any money to spend here at all, but still it was the most exciting thing I did. It was so exciting that in the second year of my service, I bumped up the frequency of my Santa Cruz excursions to once a week, even though based on the past year, I only technically needed to go once every two weeks. Walking through the aisles during this last trip, I couldn’t believe that this was what I did for fun.

 

I had the taxi driver drop me off at the end of my old road. The one that me and momma used to live on. And as I was walking towards her old yard, I passed the house where I lived for two years. It was still as cute and quaint as I remembered, complete with all the lizards (thank god for them, they eat the mosquitoes!) and the ackee trees (not Jew trees) out front.

 

 

I visited Momma’s grave. I wasn’t able to make it to the ceremony (although Tyra told me it was 6 hours long), but I did send what I could for her grave, see below.

It was slightly confusing because…what is that house? I’d never seen it before. I asked the family, and they also didn’t know that particular house. But it was explained to me that, as is  custom, they buried her with mini a house on top of the grave. And even though the house itself wasn’t sentimental in that it represented a memory, it held a lot of significance because the last thing we did as a family for momma was build her a house.

I was able to visit familiar faces: Dita, Pooh, Sofie, Ledah, Romy, Ninja, Carl, and Dicky. Sofie told me she had just gotten back from Trinidad. I was so surprised. “What?! Wasn’t that your first time out of the country?!” Yes it was. Here’s how that happened:

 

Seems like going to Trinidad for the first time might be a fairly normal thing, right? But the way she met her new friend is where the story truly lies. Sofie had been browsing through Facebook one day and searched people who had the same name as she did. She started up a chat with this other Sofie with the same last name from Trinidad, and they became fast friends with the other woman inviting her to come and stay with her if Sofie could just save up for a plane ticket. Anyway, that’s who she visited in Trinidad, someone with the exact same name as her who she had never met before. It’s baffling how Jamaicans use modern technology. Like, have you ever just been randomly friend requested by people and ignored them? Yeah, sometimes there is a real person attached to that Facebook profile, and sometimes the person who  seems like a weirdo is just a Jamaican with the same name as you looking for a friend. Or a catfish, but maybe just a friendly Jamaican. Take, for ANOTHER example, Romy. He’s engaged to an American now, and he met his new wife on Facebook. MET HIS WIFE ON FACEBOOK. Crazy.

Another interesting thing  I noticed on this trip was how they’ve kind of skipped over the process of using wifi. Some people have data on their phones, but wifi is virtually (pun intended) non-existent (and definitely non-existent in Elim).

 

So for the next two days, I walked around Elim, and I kid you not — I felt like a celebrity there. Everyone was so excited to see me, and they were like celebrities to me, because I was equally as excited to see them. I would be walking and then all of a sudden hear “Aunty Sam!! Aunty Sam!!” It’s humbling and flattering to know that there’s a small town in the middle of Jamaica that I love and that loves me right back.

 

While I was there, I was really excited to see a new cookshop that had opened!  Look how pretty it is! (pictured above). Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to eat there because it’s only open sometimes on Fridays. Oh yeah, that’s right…this is why I was so grateful when  momma cooked so many amazing meals for me; it’s hard to find a shop that’s open in Elim!

 

 

 

While staying in Elim, momma’s family was more than happy to let me stay with them. It was so generous, and really helped me out a lot; however, it was also stiflingly hot with no fan — just stagnant air and mosquitos. Needless to say, it wasn’t restful. That being said, I really did appreciated sleeping in her old bed, and it was really nice how much they cleaned up for me.

 

The morning, though, was fantastic. I sat outside taking in the view I’ve seen so many times in momma’s yard. In the 80 degree heat, I had already started sweating profusely by 7am, BUT I had forgotten all about the heat once people just started coming by to give us fruit. St. Elizabeth (Elim’s parish) is known for the best, sweetest mangoes, the honey bananas, coconuts, and otaheite apples, which are supppperrr red (giving Red Delicious a run for their money in color, but it’s no contest in taste: Jamaica all the way). And they also taste like roses.

80% of being Jamaican is just sitting around being hot.

So again, walkin’ around and bein’ hot (like, temperature wise), I tried really hard to see more familiar faces. I didn’t have long enough to spend in Jamaica, and I wanted to visit with everyone, skin sum teeth (translation: smile), and check to make sure they were alright.

If you remember from my previous Jamaica blog, people who I had loved years ago (and still love) had  kept pictures I gave to them before I left Jamaica. And what do you know? I run into an old taxi driver, Levin, who I also gave a picture to. And when I saw him that day, he showed me, still in his taxi, the picture. The photo of us is kept in pristine condition in his glove compartment. It was almost unbearably sweet, I couldn’t believe it. Of course, we had to recreate it.

 

 

I did get sunburned even though I applied sunscreen twice a day! Twice a day! I’m sorry dad. Next time I’ll bring another t-shirt.

 

 

 

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The Basic School

Towards the end of my trip, I visited the school that I had helped build. That felt rewarding! At the time we built it, it was the first new building constructed in Elim in over 27 years.

 

 

Next time I go to Jamaica, I’ll try to remember to bring even more school supplies for those precious pickni.

With that being my last stop in Elim, and with a lighter backpack, I headed to Bluefields Bay, which was where Patrick lived with Bumpy, his host mom. I went and saw her in Black River on the way.

 

 

While I was in Bluefields, it struck me just how different our placements had been, and to be honest, I couldn’t believe that I had lived in Elim for two years. The differences in our sites was jarring. And, as much as I loved it, I was only in Jamaica for a week this time, and it was hard. I was counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, and the drops of sweat. A week was not enough to lose  the excitement of being in Jamaica but, conversely, it was exactly the right amount of time to remember how tough and difficult my life was down there.

Even though I will always go back to visit Jamaica, you’ll remember that I said that my favorite thing is how satisfying it is  to touch back into the United States after such an intense trip. I stand by saying that Jamaica is the hardest country I’ve ever been to. The reverse culture shock is real, even for such a short time. You better believe I stared at all the white people and soaked up all of the air conditioning at the lounge in the Montego Bay Airport (thank you Priority Pass). I even put on a long sleeved shirt just to prove to myself that I was finally somewhat, relatively, sort of, almost not too hot.

Until next time, Jamaica. Big up yourself, and bless up!

One love,
Aunty Sam

 

 

 

 

Spring is my favorite, even though at the tailend of mine came a heartbreak, but also so many other beaaaautiful things that really blossomed into a sense of renewal. For example, I took Victoria Pinksburgh out of storage, and we started getting reacquainted.

 

I rode around the city and admired all the flowers. 

 

 

As fun as Victoria Pinksburgh is to look at, she’s even more fun to ride — it’s like having the windows down in a car all. the time.  Which is made even better during the spring because allllll the flowers are in bloom! And I caught whiffs of blossoms every time I went for a ride.

Pinksburgh and I went for dozens of long rides around the city together and enjoyed a new route through the park which I use to clear my head.  I took Katie Diamond, Bella, and wee Emily there to enjoy the serenity as well.

 

One weekend, Helen and I played tennis, drove around the city running errands (got new cushions for our front porch), had coffee (COFFEECOFFEECOFFEE), and saw Standard Bank (it’s just like any other bank.  Picture a bank, it’s just like that.)

I was invited as a plus one to a really fun lightning strikes party where I made friends with the hosts, Addi and Jojo. You know those people who stay to the very very end of a party? As in, they are literally the last ones to leave? Yeah, that was us but only because we were having so much fun! And Addi and Jojo didn’t mind.  How do I know?  Because we bonded (although there is no photo evidence of this bonding session.  But Bel, we bonded, I swear.) 

 

The party was amazing, and I’d like to make shoutouts to the really memorable cookie plate, the mac and cheese, and the green olive cheese balls, which I didn’t have (but were really well-labeled).  Also to Matt, who is really great at playing the piano and who also tolerated — I mean…enjoyed — Helen gleefully ruining all of his songs.

 

 

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Another very memorable party was Emily’s birthday at her house, where we celebrated the Cavs, grilled burgers, played games, laughed, drank, and talked about baseball.  I mean basketball.

 

 

Here’s the SparkNotes version of some other May standouts:

• When Helen and I turned the air conditioning on in our apartment for the first time this season and it didn’t catch on fire.
• Molly T. gave birth!!! 
• A royal wedding
• Surf & turf dinner, cooked by Sprouty, which was literally the best meal of my life.  THE BEST MEAL OF MY LIFE.  The best sea bass I’ve ever tasted in all my years of living, which I will remember until the end of time and then on into eternity.

• Getting to know Sprouty when he invited me over and cooked me dinner. (See above).  He had actual sprouts growing and gets judged by his valet.
• Getting back into yoga
• The surf & turf dinner
• “Everyone be nice to Emily’s cupcake.  especially you, beans” – Bel
• My parents went to Holland, celebrated King’s Day — a holiday that none of us had ever heard about, biked around during tulip season, and visited Iceland.

• A comedy show with 3 teenage girls and Jason Clark as the hilarious host
• Talks with Julia about a business
• When Brittny and I got paid by Sebastian to hangout
• Playing tennis with Krupa and having a coal train go by sooooo slowly that we couldnt hear each other for an hour and a half.  It left just as we finished and I took her for her first ever scooter ride where a gopher ran at us full speed.
• Those never ending 23 and me questions
• The Smallest Show
  

  Hanging out with friends.

   

• A steak dinner for a belated Mother’s Day which was followed by ice cream…and then more ice cream. My dad and I went to two separate ice cream shops to do an unofficial taste test that no one asked us to do but was conclusive.

 

• When Zack finally came in at the end of my Wednesday shift.
• The Surf & Turf dinner…
• The sea bass from the surf & turf dinner.
• Remembering my friend Brendan on May 23 (RIP <3)

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Another great night was the “Thank you” dinner with Kristin, Helen, and Emily where we drank great cocktails and had delicious food.  So… “thank you” for what again?  Months (and months) ago, we drove Helen and Kristin to the airport, and they promised they would plan a dinner to say thank you. So finally, after an epic group thread and consulting the farmers almanac, we found a day when our schedules lined up.  Emily picked me and Bel up, and drove us to the Thank You dinner… which was kind of ironic since the whole dinner began because we drove them to the airport. In the words of Emily: “I figured you might need a reminder of why we’re having this dinner in the first place.”

 

 

May was a fabulous month, even through the heartbreak. And my friends really showed up.  Plus, I have to mention it again, the joy of having an experience of a lifetime — eating that sea bass from the surf & turf dinner.  

Spring is spectacular, all those flowers, all the scooter rides…
I love it more and more every year,
‘mi

When anyone says “Cinco de Mayo,” the first thing I think of is Colorado, naturally.  (working on my sarcasm).  Anyway,  I wanted to visit Patrick in Colorodo before he moves (!) and dates that lined up for us happened to fall on the weekend Cinco De Mayo.   Thus, Boulder for Cinco de Mayo.

 

 

Thursday night when I landed Patrick picked me up and we stayed up chatting.  SO fun.  Bestie catch up!  And then the very next day I got to shadow Patrick’s 6th grade class.  Before school, we stopped at MINE coffee shop (all MINE MINE MINE).  Though at 8am I already had the energy of a 12 year old and was bouncing off of the walls… so I ordered my first ever “decaf cappuccino.”  It was delicious

 

Patrick’s class was the science class I wished I had had in 6th grade. He literally grabbed his guitar, stood on his desk, and taught parody rap songs to the kids, which were tailored to the school/lessons of the day. The kids are also allowed to stand on the desks during this time. I considered enrolling, I have so much I could learn…is that legal or…?

Another perk was that it was flower day…which, was a day where we learned about flowers. Beyond the standing on desks and rapping to acoustic melodies by Dr. Marti, we got to go outside and collect, and then dissect, actual, real-life flowers.

 

 

Being a kid is great but being a grown-up his even better.  And at the end of the day, we were ready for some grown-up time. We went to Tim’s house, another teacher from school, to hangout on the lawn without an agenda.

…In fact, our agenda was to make an agenda. But first, a jam sesh.  And after I laughed along as they planned their “detention party” for Patrick’s going away fiesta. The rule was that you had to come in an outfit that was breaking the dress code and the party slips were written up on real detention slips.  Genius. 

 

 

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Before Patrick was to move in a month or two, I asked him if there was any part of his house that he didn’t have any memory in and if we could make one.  He said that he didn’t have a memory on the landing  stairs next to his room. We decided to come up with some activity for that memory-less corner of his home.  That afternoon we went on a hike in Gregory Canyon — one of Patrick’s favorite trails and it was easy to see why.  As we hiked we brainstormed ideas.  It was spring time and we were inspired to gather up flowers (it was the day after flower day, after all) and scatter them all across that landing spot at the top of his stairs.  

Afterwards, we held led a laughter yoga session, complete with a lie down to really crush those wild flowers into the ground and make cleaning up harder, and also to fill the space with some really great energy.  Voila! A broom and mop were needed and a memory was born.

 

It was time to head to the Cinco de Mayo party that Alex was throwing!!  She and I didn’t get to talk as much as I’d have liked (wish we had! She hosted a lovely party <3) but there were so many great guests in attendance and party games to play including HQ trivia as a group. Unbelievably enough the savage question was:

“Which one of these disputed territories is NOT claimed by Georgia?

1. Transnistria
2. Abkhazia
3. South Ossetia”

If you’re a reader of my blogs, then you know that Patrick and I were freaking out. He was on the mystery trip and we were together in Transnistria!!! How CRAZY is it that one of the questions was about an obscure place that we went together this same year?!!!!  Insanity. 

 

So maybe after like a margarita or two, Mckayla, someone I had literally just met invited me to her Halloween party. Excited, social Sammi was, like, really happy–I mean really happy about being invited. I was so excited that I literally asked her for her address right then and there. For a party. Five months from now. In a different state. But you know, we just connected…at least I thought we did.  She may not feel the same way.  I was over eager.   Which I know, doesn’t sound like me.  Someone, thankfully interrupted my aggressive friend making to ask Mckalya if she liked art and her answer was: I’m open-minded.   What a great response! From now on whenever someone asks me if I like music, I’m just going to say “well, I’m open-minded.”  Also, I’ll see her at that party in October.

 

Another cool thing about this party (besides making new friends, laughing hysterically, eating good food, and mild debauchery) was seeing Patrick partially combine friend groups — success!

 

A meme that deserves a mention: During the party, I got a text from Bel who was at a seperate party back in Pittsburgh that (apparently) had some really amazing, fresh baked cookies. She was gushing about the cookies, how many she ate, on and on, and then…A SECOND BATCH CAME OUT!!  She sent me a text that said:

“Here’s actual footage of me when the second batch came out.” – Bel

I laughed for like 5 minutes straight and started crying. How lucky am I to have a best friend who can make me laugh until I cry through text from a different state?

On Sunday morning Patrick took me to the airport and we left with plans to see each other again soon.  Maybe this year we’ll go to another obscure territory that’s unrecognized as a country so we can win another HQ trivia question.

Hasta pronto,
‘mi

PS.  Congratulations to our friend Liz D. on her upcoming wedding, bless up yourself!