The Flight

So I've only been here for I think three days now, and I have so much to tell. Its hard to know what to say and where to start, so I'll split this up into parts and tell it from the beginning starting with......I guess when I said goodbye.

So, I, as a general rule, suck at goodbyes. For me they've always been awkward. My parents drove me to Dekalb to Mukthi's(my chaperon's) house since they were giving me a ride to O'Hare. So I was already tired since I had been up since 4:30, so tiredness and goodbyes are not a good combination. So of course I cried when I said goodbye to my mom and dad, mostly because they hugged me(yes, mom and dad I know its weird) But yeah whatever.

So we got to O'Hare and we were 3 hours early *fist pump* so we ate supper. Mukthi said goodbye to her husband, and we made our way through security. Maybe I'm just an airhead but I didn't think the security checks were that bad. Our flight was delayed 20 minutes so we still had an hour to wait for our flight. Mukthi's daughter, Safayah, really set the mood for me. She loves planes and was soooo excited. Her son, Shayan, wanted to go home, so Mukthi told him that they were going to their Indian home. His prompt reply was: "India is not home, India is India!" He's such a cutie.

So the first leg of the flight was about 7 hours, from Chicago to London. We rode on a Boeing 777, which despite its size the coach section is super cramped, and I managed to get stuck behind an asshole who put his seat back the moment we took off and refused to put it back up even during dinner. I'm not claustrophobic but that I could not stand. So when dinner was served, we hit turbulence, so I REALLY didn't want to eat. I ate some, but not much. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit me, but there were two movies I really wanted to see playing on the TV screen so I stayed up and watched those instead. I dozed off during The Sorcerer's Apprentice, but I got the gist of the movie, which was pretty good. Then there was an interlude inbetween movies where they played these really trippy, sort of disturbing(well very disturbing) Canadian cartoons. They were adult cartoons and not funny at all. So then after those were over I stayed up and watched Eclipse, because even though I'm over my Twilight faze, I'm still morbidly curious about how bad the movies are. It was ok. That is all. So after the movie it was 2:30 CST, so I tried to catch a few Z's before breakfast was to be served. I dozed, but didn't really sleep since it wasn't that comfortable. Breakfast was served, in accordance with turbulence, and I at a bit of a muffin and that was it. The muffin was sickening sweet and from experience sweet+turbulence=puke. Simple equation, I know.

So we landed in London on schedule but we were stuck on the flight-line for nearly 90 minutes since there was no unloader thingy(technical term) available. We finally got off, took a subway ride to another part of the terminal and went through security. Security was stricter in London than it was at Chicago. Since Mukthi had water bottles for the kids, security confiscated them and were going to give them back after they emptied them out. So we waited and I watched people like I do. I've noticed that British 40-something women dress like 20 year olds in tight, low cut tops(with boob jobs), skinny jeans or tights, and stilettos. I don't know how anybody could travel in stilettos. So we finally got our water bottles back and we went to lunch.

London was very foggy by the way, so I didn't see anything. And I really didn't feel like I was in London, which is part 1 of jet-lag. So just as we finished lunch we realized that we were going to be late for our bus. So we made it to the terminal just as the buses were getting there, which was lucky. We rode the bus through the maze of access roads away from the terminal to our plane, a Boeing 747. For being a smaller plane, it had waaaayyy more leg room. Taking off was kind of scary: looking out the window it would be clear, then you'd go through a big block of fog on the ground, then clear, then fog, until they finally got it up.

Part 2 of the trip from London to Bangalore was almost 10 hours. I didn't have the patience or mental capacity(jet-lag part 2) for movies, so I watched part of several movies. I watched all of the new Robin Hood which although it was very good, I really didn't understand what was going on. I didn't eat much supper again(served with turbulence of course) and didn't sleep much at all. I mostly watched the plane on the map of my TV screen trying to figure out which country we were over.

I will say this: although I've never been on a commercial flight before, British Airways is awesome. All the stewards and stewardesses are super nice and helpful, and they talk in British accents which is a plus. But its also infectious since I had a strong inclination to talk in an accent, but I refrained from doing so. My thoughts are in British though.

It was kind of surreal when we finally got over India. I looked out the window, the morning light of dawn was just starting to touch the land. I couldn't see much through the clouds, but I could see the hills and the some rivers than went through the land. We landed in Bangalore two hours late due to delays in London. It was raining but the weather was sooo nice, about 60 degrees. When I got in the terminal the first thing I noticed was the security guards carry really nice AK-47's. We got our baggage and exchanged our American dollars for Indian rupees. $200 translates to approximately 8000 rupees. We got outside and we were met by Mukthi's father, and one of her childhood friends. I received a very warm welcome. Indian people are so nice, and very welcoming to foreigners.

So ends the account of my flight. My next chapter will be about the two hour drive from Bangalore to Mysore, so stick around.

And pardon my writing style, I haven't been able to get my original back yet, hopefully it will come in time. Then again I suck at relating events.

Peace.

We're not in Kansas anymore Dorothy.....

I mean...er...Illinois.

I'm not going to make this post long, my mind is still extremely foggy from jet lag. Jet lag is a very weird thing.

So anyway, I am in India. I've only been here a day and I already have a slew of stories to tell, but later. I'm not typing anything when I can't think.

I miss everybody so much.

Peace.

Look at all those cobwebs......

*cough cough* Damn this place is dusty. I haven't touched it since....January? WTF. Soooo.........

My year has been extremely crazy, fun, sad, thoughtful, the whole nine yards. Its been probably the best year of my life. I snuck out and went to my first concert, yes my first(and probably last) act of rebellion! It was awesome. Flyleaf, Breaking Benjamin and THREE DAYS GRACE! Story coming soon. ;) My parents tore down our old falling down farmhouse and are building a new house and I've fallen in and out of love....and right back in again. But nothing is as epic as the last great event of my 18th year on this earth..........

I'm going to India.

Yep thats right, this little loudmouthed Illinois farm girl is going to the other side of the world. For two months.

Its kind of weird how this all happened(and now its time to learn about a different side of me) We got a new milk customer who is from India who started buying goat milk from us. At the time, my mom, who is the world's biggest health nut, had just discovered Indian cooking, and our customer was giving mom pointers as well as leading her in different directions as far as health and well being goes. That's when she introduced her to Ayurveda, an Indian medicine and way of life that's impossible to put in a nutshell. It's a combination of spirituality, medicine, health, being in tune with nature, and total well-being all in one package.

I've never been the health nut to the extent that my mom is, but I've always been searching for the things that are right in life, the things that belong. Ayurveda belongs. I have been greatly influenced by my mom when it comes to health and thinking outside the box to achieve good health. When I first read about Ayurveda, it all made sense. How spirituality and health are connected.

I've been raised Catholic, and I've been instructed in the Catholic religion quite extensively. And of course, I've been instructed in healthy eating. For whatever reason, separately, neither topic inspired me. Religion has its downfalls and its hard to teach other people about healthy eating when they just don't get it. Because of Ayurveda, I've seen the essential thing that is missing in this society, which is that what I believe to be the all-too-important connection between health and spirituality. In Ayurveda, too be happy in your life, in your body and in your soul brings good health. Many people seem to overlook the importance of keeping your body happy and healthy.

As a Catholic, I've been taught that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, and we must not defile these temples by of course sin. Neither are we to defile these temples by bad things such as drugs or alcohol. But what about food? If we eat unhealthily, our bodies suffer. We become obese, we develop heart disease, cancer and diabetes. The more unhealthy and sick we become, the more depressed we get, negative energy spreads throughout the body and makes us sicker.

We live in a society where every desire receives instant gratification. We want a soda? Go grab one out of the fridge. Fried chicken? Pull in the drive thru. Unhealthy foods that years ago were not available are now available at our fingertips. And if these foods were available 50 years ago they were treats. How often have you listened to your grandparents tell you how special it was to go and get a soda? Or a piece of candy?

I'm not saying that its evil to eat unhealthy food, I'm saying that its evil to overeat unhealthy foods. They should be a treat and everything needs to be taken in moderation. Its about balance.

Anyway that's just the tip of the iceberg of whats been going through my head the past couple months. And you don't have to connect this with religion like I am; it should be something that everybody should implement in their lives in some way. Sorry if it doesn't make much sense, I don't have much time to write this.

Anyway to wrap things up and get back on topic, I will be leaving for Mysore, India tomorrow. I will be going for treatments in an Ayurvedic clinic for my allergies and a few other health issues for a month. The other month I will be staying with my chaperon's family on a coconut grove, learning about culture and how to cook. I will try and blog whenever I can get internet, and try to unravel this fascinating topic in a simple form.

Thanks to everybody for the well wishes! I will miss you all very much and I love each and every one of you. I'm sorry I won't be here for Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or my birthday, but I'll be there in spirit. Love you guys, and see you all later.

Victim of War

I haven't been up to writing a blog in a while so I decided to post one of my latest short stories. The scene described(minus the head on the tree) was a dream I had a few weeks ago, and I just fashioned a story around it. Enjoy :)

Victim of War

Everything had been silent for a long time save for the steady dripping of water in the corner. I had no notion of the time but I knew that it had been nearly a day since I last heard the guns. Nobody had come back for me yet and I feared the worse.

I made my way from the back of the bunker groping in the pitch black and dampness trying to find the door. After what seemed like ages I finally found the latch. I pushed up on the door as hard as I could until it finally gave way just enough to let the dim light of day creep in. Even though the light wasn’t very bright it hurt my eyes after being in the complete dark for almost four days. I shielded my eyes and peered out to make sure it was safe before I ventured out. I heaved the door up a little more and slipped out, easing the door down so it would shut quietly. I wrapped a handkerchief around my mouth to hide the steam of my breath in the chilly air.

The entire forest was deserted. Not a living thing stirred and everything was eerily silent. The sky was dark grey and hung low like a ceiling over the forest. I grasped the knife in my belt as I made my way through the muddy tracks of tanks and jumped over newly fallen trees, careful to make sure there were no booby traps or mines.

The trees of the forest were riddled with the holes of gunshots and there were evidences of blood here and there. I prayed that it was the blood of the enemy.

I had walked through this forest so many times as a child, it was the only place I felt safe. Its beauty brought me happiness; its life brought me comfort. I’m sixteen now and times are different; happiness is just a thing of the past to me and there is no more comfort to be found in the world.

As I made my way I came upon a rifle resting in the bracken. Ignoring the blood nearby picked I up and examined it: it was one of the enemy’s and had a nearly full clip of ammo. I felt guilty taking a weapon that had probably killed one of my neighbors but a knife is not enough to protect or feed myself.

Just as I was ready to go on my way again I heard the report of a gunshot. I crouched down on my belly, hoping I was hidden in the ferns. My heart was trying to pound itself out of my chest as I waited for what seemed like an eternity to hear something else. Finally I heard more cracks and relaxed as I realized it was just a tree falling down. Everything seems to set me on an edge these days.

My father had told me before the enemy came that after everything had fallen silent I was to go to the old oak in the meadow and look for a sign to know what to do. I was heading there now and with every step that took me closer I knew that the sign would not be good.

Suddenly I stumbled into a newly made clearing filled with smoke and a ghastly stench. Fearing that a trap would be set in the open, I skirted around the clearing, trying to see what was burning. I spotted two big piles and my empty stomach turned as I realized what was burning. Underneath the burning trees were bodies of the fallen; the stench was so overwhelming that I retched. I knew that it was the enemy that was burning though, because the enemy did not burn the bodies of dead, but left them after a battle to rot and be eaten by carrion birds. This gave me a little hope but it was hard to feel hope when you witnessed such horrible sights as this. This is war, I tell myself and move on.

When I finally come to the meadow, I hardly recognize it. Its beauty, its peacefulness has been replaced with ugliness and brutality. The green waving grasses have been burnt and blackened and tanks have turned the ground to mud. I can see the old oak on the other side, its massive limbs have been broken but the trunk still stands unmoved.

I carefully made my way through the mud, keeping my eyes on the tree. I tripped and fell into the mud. As I got up I pushed myself up on what I thought was a tree branch until I looked over and saw it was the arm of a man. Fear paralyzed me as I got up and looked around, finally realizing what I was seeing in the mud.

Bodies. Hundreds of them. Dead. My family. My friends. My neighbors. Dead. I stifled a scream and ran as fast as I could towards the old oak, trying not to stumble as I ran over the bodies.

When I came to the oak, I saw the sign, it was the sign of the enemy. I fell to my knees and covered my face.

My father’s head was nailed to the tree, his decapitated body was sitting against the base. I kneeled there frightened out of my wits, feeling alone in the world. I couldn’t understand how anybody could do something so horrible.

I knew I couldn’t stay here, but I didn’t know where to go. I knew my father would not have left me without giving some message, some hope. I crawled over to his headless body with silent tears covering my face and I went through his pockets until I encountered a note. I pulled it out and keeping my eyes on the ground I crawled to the other side of the tree.

The note was smeared with dirt and blood and was hard to make out in the dim light.

“Dearest Lise,” it read in my father’s short stroked hand-writing. “We have killed many, but we are now surrounded. There is no hope, we cannot hold out through the night. I know you are strong and you will carry on. Look for the others, they will help. You know where to look. Do not let them capture you. You are my daughter and remember to always honor your family. I love you with all my heart and I always will, never forget that.”

I folded the letter and put it away. Covering my face I cried until I could cry no more. When I was finished I had no idea how long I had been there. I had the sudden feeling that I was not alone. I looked around but there was not a living soul.

When I reached down to pick up my rifle leaned against the tree I felt the cold blade of a knife on my throat and a rough voice whispered in my ear “What do we have here?” He pulled me back roughly by my hair, keeping his knife at my throat and leaving my arms free, which was a mistake. My instincts kicked in as I grabbed my knife and stabbed him the stomach, then slit his throat before he could make a sound as he staggered back.

I could hear more voices from nearby, and one saying “Don’t kill her! Capture her alive!” I grabbed my gun and took off, running away from the voices. I could hear the footsteps of half a dozen men pursuing me. When I had gained a lead on them I turned around and took two of them out with my rifle, stopping the others in their tracks.

As I pulled the trigger and killed one more I heard somebody coming up behind me. As I started to turn around he knocked the gun out of my hands and punched me in the face, sending me to the ground. I tried to recover from the punch but he had bound my arms before I could get up again.

“Well should we have our way with her?” one of the men who had been pursing me before asked with a chuckle.

“No, the boss said he wants to see her first and if he can’t get any information out of the bitch then we can have her,” the man who had bound me answered with a wicked smile.

After the man who was in charge took my knife he slung me over his shoulder, since it was easier than forcing me to walk. My face pulsed from the punch and I could taste blood in my mouth. I felt too dizzy hanging from his shoulder to fight back.

After a while the necklace I was wearing around my neck worked its way out of my shirt and dangled down to rest on my face. The necklace was my freedom. My father had always told me that suicide was dishonorable, but betrayal was even worse. The soldiers walking behind the man who was carrying me could not see my face; I worked at the chain with my tongue until the glass vile rested between my teeth.

When we had arrived at their camp the man threw me roughly on the ground. The men saw the necklace hanging from my mouth and knew what it was. I bit down on the vile just as they yanked it out of my mouth. The glass cut my tongue and the taste of cyanide and blood was bittersweet in my mouth. When the men realized what I had done, they began showering me with blows and kicking me. My life was ended, and I prayed that the rest of the resistance would avenge the death of me and my family.

End of an Era

Its hard to believe that ten years have already gone by. It seems like only yesterday I was thinking the world was going to end at 8 years old, Y2K was going to kill us all. Then the clock turned at midnight and nothing happened of course. Just like tonight when the clock turns nothing will happen, except half of us will still be writing 2009 on our checks next week forgetting that it’s 2010.

Its hard to believe the time that has passed after all the events of the decade. Two presidents, neither worth writing about in a history book, an attack which shocked the nation, a war, tsunami, hurricanes, a new pope, technological advances, the death of icons, stock market crashes, economic failure. I know I’m forgetting a lot, but I was never one to remember well in the first place.

Time flies so fast its hard to keep track sometimes, or stay on the track for that matter.

These ten years are filled with memories. Some memories I want to cherish, but will probably forget; other memories I will want to forget but they will still naw at my subconscious self.

This is the decade I will always cherish though, it is the decade which shaped me, changed me for the better and it was in this period of time that I was finally able to uncover who I was, who I am, who I want to be, and who I hope to always be. Me. Not some stupid sheep that follows the crowd, just the horribly plain me.

As I sit here writing this I wonder if ten years from now if I’ll look back and wonder: WTF was I thinking?

So to everybody, Happy New Year and Happy New Decade. May this new year and this new decade bring you health and happiness, and may the next decade be the better decade to remember.

A video for enjoyment

Just a video of me shooting my dad's new pistol, a Springfield XD 9mm :)

The joys of being sick

So with all the talk of swine flu(oh wait I'm sorry H1N1, which everybody should really be calling hiney) I knew sooner or later I'd probably succumb to the flu this year.  Especially since I don't cover my mouth when I sneeze, or wash my hands, and I occasionally eat food off the floor, but that's besides the point.  As far as swine flu goes I don't think it exists and its just another big stupid scare to get people to take a vaccine thats probably going to kill you or make you get the flu anyway.  I think people are freaked out way to easily nowadays.  All people really really need to eat chocolate and just chill.  But, its not my job to worry about people and I don't worry anyway, so I guess I don't really care.

So my oldest brother started college and of course that means he's brought all kinds of nice little bugs home.  He broke his finger falling up the stairs and then he got sick and he's like the biggest prima donna.  So he sat on the couch and groaned and whined for three days until he was better then he had to tell everybody he met all of his symptoms and how bad they were and I was about ready to just put a pillow over his head......serenity now........


So anyway he got over it, I learned to be more deaf than I already am(tinnitus in one ear, hehe) so whatever.  Then last Saturday the local vet was hosting a horse show to show off the Arabians she's bred and I had a few friends that were showing their horses there so of course I really wanted to go.  So I made plans and went to bed on Friday night with just a bit of tightness in my chest.  I thought nothing of it and went to bed.  I didn't really sleep much but rather hallucinated all night long, kind of an odd experience.  So I woke up with a really high fever and could barely walk.  Oh fun....

So the whole morning I laid on the couch with a fever, barely able to move.  Mom came in and told me I can't go to the horse show(as if it wasn't obvious) but since I was still hallucinating I told her I was and somehow convinced myself that I had actually already left and was on my way there.  Yeah I was kind of pitiful.

So somehow I always manage to get the flu the same time as my brother David, who is the biggest puker ever.  I fortunately have not puked in over six or seven years, which I know that makes me sound like some kind of recovering anorexic or bolemic.  I learned a long time ago when I got braces that food gets caught in them, and if you throw up digested food gets caught in them and you have to taste it for a while.  So I've always had this no puking resolution that I've stuck to, then again I don't really eat anything to puke up when I'm sick.  I can usually go for about three days without eating when I'm sick and not feel hungry.  I mean, I'm hungry but I don't want to eat.  Which is kind of bad because I lose weight easily when I'm sick.  Last time I got the flu(which was 3 years ago) I got down to 95 pounds but I haven't lost that much weight this time.

In the spirit of being sick, I of course embrace my French heritage of not showering, and although I'm not English I've adopted not brushing my teeth which is as equally disgusting.  I'd rather take no shower though over mom waking me up at six in the morning after I just fell asleep asking if the remedy worked from the night before.  My mom is weird.

So I need to end here, I won't mention anything about the extreme agitation and short tempter that seems to come with being sick, as well as this sense of being totally unable to think of what you were just about to say.  Which is what is happening to me right now.

But before I go, I would like to say Happy Veterans Day to all those who have bravely served this great country, past, present and future.  The sacrifice you have made for my freedom is greatly appreciated.