Revisiting 2008 (through photos)

November 2007- (Isn't the title 'Revisiting 2008"? But 2007 has relevance in this post because I say it does, therefore it is included) Kyle and I return from teaching English in Chile. We can't even begin describe how excited we were to be back for Thanksgiving!!
December 2007- Take jobs as segway tour guides of beautiful historical San Antonio. I must say, it was a pretty kick butt job, as it took very little effort, we rode on segways around downtown SA meeting and chatting with new folks from all over the world for a living. It was easy, fun, and well paid . What more could you ask for in a temporary job?
-Also we rediscover the beauty of Texas by taking a trip with the Grojeans into Historical
Gruene. A quaint little city with awesome tubing (riding down a river on a rubber tire during the hot summer months) and a famous restaurant with some of the best Chicken Fried Steak in Texas.
- On the negative side, crap goes down at UT and we figure out that our plans to leave for South Korea in March are foiled.

Me on a Segway tour (with the Grojean family)

San Antonio in all it's glory and Christmas lights.
The Riverwalk.

In training for Christmas Lights tour of San Antonio. It was freezing cold that night, and sleeting/raining as you can tell from the splotchy photo.

Jen and me in front of the Gruene dance hall. (Notice our clothing in December)

The Grojean girls advertising Shiner Beer, the beloved Texas beer made in Shiner Texas. But seriously, what a great picture, this should be an advertisement.

January 2008- Pretty uneventful... I can't even think of something interesting to talk about here.

February- We decide to become part-time bartenders and go to bartending school. However, after the school, we made a frightful mistake of being hired my Rainforest Cafe. It was literally only a block away from the Segway office, and also had daytime, non-smoking shifts. It sounded perfect: wrong, it was more like HELL! Tourists suck at tipping I discovered, unless on a segway tour, and the work was hard without enough reward. And although Valentines Day was spent working, it was one of the most romantic Valentine's ever. On our way home from spending the evening watching other couples enjoy their lovely pink heart evenings, we stopped by the store for some chocolate fondue, strawberries, the cheapest campaign ever made, and toasted to our never-ending love. It was really simple, yet incredibly romantic.
March- Another uneventful month except for Kyle's birthday...which I can't remember celebrating. Honey, can you help me on this one? What did we do for your birthday?
April- A trip down to the coast with some of our good friends Susie and Chad. Susie and I have been friends since the beginning of time. Our families have been neighbors since we moved into the neighborhood when I was 8 months old. She is my oldest friend, and one of the dearest. History like that can't be replaced.May- Susie and Chad tie the knot!! What a fabulous wedding with an amazingly beautiful bride!!


June- Preparing for our road trip across the US of A to visit friends and family, starting in Texas ending in Washington State.
July- We have a goodbye BBQ party with friends and family in San Antonio at a nearby park. Too bad we didn't have a moon bounce, that would have made the party the event of the year!
- And I re-start my blog!! Interested in that first post back, click here.

The party that rocked the park!

Me and my mommy.

July-August- The most Amazing road trip ever!!! Dallas, Tx; Searcy, Arkansas; Ann Arbor, MI; Chicago, Il; Mouline, Il; little tiny town in Montana; Glacier National Park, Montana; and Lopez island.

August-October - More bad news with Kyle's diploma and it is determined that instead of flying out to South Korea immediatly like we had hoped, instead we would rockout the Northwest with my Aunt BB with lots of activities such as Bumbershoot music festival, a countrified fair, mushroom hunting and the making of the coolest homemade Haunted House ever!
October- Kyle's grandmother dies and we fly back to Texas to be with family. Being back in Texas was bittersweet, but we made the most out of it with fun, affordable yet creative events like pumpkin carving.

November- Preparations for my flight to South Korea solo. Scary business.
December- Thrown in to teaching, but loving it. Christmas in Korea and my first time to be away from my hubby for our anniversary (dating) and Christmas.

What will 2009 look like?

Reflections on 2008

I have been trying to collect my thoughts on this past year as the New Year has slithered it's way in without warning, but I find my thoughts veering in a negative direction. It isn't that it has been a terrible year, because, as my life is pretty privileged in comparison to much of the world, I feel that on a whole, I can't complain. I have never gone without a meal (unless by choice), I have a wonderful loving family, incredibly supportive friends, access to clean water, transportation, and the ability to make my life what I want. I grow to love my husband more and more everyday, and our lives are on the threshold of amazing possibilities. But it is those possibilities that frighten me, that hold my heart hostage with anxiety. My worst fear is that I will fail to meet my potential and as the years progress, along with my age, and our possibilities remain possibilities rather than realities or at least on the road to reality, my anxiety heightens. And 2008 was not a progressive year on this road towards our dreams. Instead I felt as if we were snails, sliming our way up a rugged, sharp, agrivating path, on an upwards slope, only to be thrown down on the hard concrete ground by an uncaring bystander not once but multiple times, causing our shells to crack and leaving us scratched and bruised, with less faith, and more uncertainty in our chosen path than with which we began.

However if anything has been learned by the year of the snail, it has been that perseverance is what keeps us alive, and that we should never give up the fight. There have been times when I felt that the flame within had been dampened, but throughout our adverstity with the University over and over and over again, we have never let the flame die. Life is not something that should be strolled through without passion, rather it is a gift that we should cherish, and for which we should give thanks. Struggles are a part of life and in theory we should give thanks for them as well, for without them, we wouldn't grow or blossom into what we were made to become. So I will not shudder nor hide from 2009, frightened from the many potential threats of adversity or disappointments, but rather as a new day with new and amazing possibilities there for the taking. 2009 will be a terrific year. I know this because my life is my own and whatever hardships come my way, I will survive, and I will continue to live everyday with a passion for this wonderful gift we have been given; LIFE.

My Seoul-a Adventure

Me and Jen. Loken in Myeong-dong. Yay for my Italy friends! (I am sporting my new hat in this photo as well.)

My cold was cruel but luckily short lived. I could feel it creeping in slowly, like a lion stalking it's prey all Christmas week, but it held off on the kill until the day after Christmas. My head began spinning on Friday afternoon, or maybe the children were literally running circles around the room. Either way it was hard to tell as all I could focus on was the spinning, and not what was actually doing the spinning. I knocked on Nurse Ann's door during the break and was given a hot citrus drink and two unknown pills to take after dinner. The drink felt nice on my throat, and the slime inhabiting my sinuses retreated for a short time after wards. However after dinner, not only did the enemy retake it's position, but it also released some weapon to prevent any air from entering or exiting the nostrils without a drill hammer. Speaking was difficult considering the air that it produced had no where to exit but my ears and ear canals aren't built for breathing. Speaking was also basically pointless considering no one understood what I said, and then laughter (sympathy laughter mind you) would almost always follow.

I spent all of Saturday in bed, blowing my nose (which is considered rude in Korea, but spitting ironically is not), reading Les Mis, and wallowing in my misery alone without a nurse. My friend Jennifer Loken that I met on a study abroad program in Italy of 2005 was visiting another friend in Seoul. This weekend was our only chance to meet so of course I had to be stuck in bed. I considered for a moment throwing it all to the wind and going to meet her in the cold and windy city anyways, but I realized that my company in all honesty would not be enjoyable to anyone least of all me.

Sunday, after 12 hours of sleep, my head miraculously stopped floating above the atmosphere, and I was even able to breath, for the most part, therefore, I was well enough to visit Jen. I was ecstatic! We finally spoke at 2 o'clock in the afternoon and decided to meet up in Myeong-dong (the heart of Seoul) for some Korean shopping.

1st task: figure out how to get there, taxi, bus, subway, train? I had never been to Seoul with others let alone by myself, and up until then had depended on others for getting and using transportation.
2nd task: learn how to read and speak Korean as nothing is in English. (not accomplished)
3rd task: Don't get lost for I will never be found again!

Jen's friend was really helpful as she had been living in Korea for several months already. I called a number for English speaker and asked for much needed help. She gave me several bus numbers and I was on my way. Normally we take a taxi into town, but because I am afraid of phones when the other side only speaks Korean I cannot call a taxi, besides which, it costs $5 rather than $1 for the bus, therefore I opted for the bus.

I walked the ten minutes down the hill to where the buses waited. The bus driver was sleeping behind the closed doors. I knocked on the doors, said the name of the station I had just learned five minutes previously, he nodded and I sat down. We waited for 10 minutes before leaving. As the bus turned uphill, my heart rate increased, as I had only been on the bus once before, and it had been in the dark, in the comfort of all the other teachers who actually knew what they were doing from experience. But I didn't remember the bus going up a hill. Visions of a wandering Vanessa unable to speak Korean or communicate where she lived or where she needed to go started to flash across my mind. I hadn't even brought the SNET business card with the phone number in case something dreadfully wrong were to occur. With help from an old man and the bus driver, I got off at the correct stop. With sweating palms, I brought out my notepad where I had jotted down the bus numbers. A kind-hearted woman wearing a red jacket came to my aid.

"Do you need help?" she asked me in excellent English.

I nearly hugged her on the spot. I was so nervous and here was a helpful Korean woman who spoke English. God had surely sent her to be my guardian angel. And as it turned out, we were to ride the same bus. Not only had I gotten on the correct bus, but I had a bus partner. She was an extremely interesting companion as she traveled around the world as a business and life coach. In fact we were so engrossed in our conversation we missed our first bus, while waiting at the bus stop.

I exited the bus according to her directions, found our meeting point, borrowed a random Korean's cell phone and called Jen. My anxiety had taken form as a demon, gripping my muscles, and imprisoning me in my body until I stepped off the bus into Myeong-dong, when it transformed itself into jubilation at my independence and success. Never in my life had I traveled to an unknown place, without a cell phone, without knowledge of the language and most importantly without Kyle. In all of our fretful travels, I have always had the comfort of at least having Kyle by my side, always ready to protect me if needed.

But on my journey to Seoul, I had been utterly, frightfully alone and I succeeded all on my own. The journey in some curious way felt like a test. "Can you survive? Are you independently strong, or does your strength come from Kyle?" In truth, it was one of the most frightening experiences I have ever been subjected to, but from it, I felt stronger, and more confident in myself and my abilities to adapt and to survive. I would not wish to undergo that experience again, but I am grateful it happened. Just as I wish with all my might that Kyle was with me now, but in some ways, I think this separation is healthy. Through our heartache we grow stronger in our love and appreciation for each other. And through our separation we are allowing ourselves to grow as individuals, drink from different rain water, and flourish without the nurturing warmth of the other. Many people have never known me without Kyle, nor Kyle without Vanessa. We have been two halves of a whole for eight years, and although I feel a piece of me is missing, I am enjoying being seen as me, and only me, if only for a month.

Myeong-dong was fantastic, filled with street vendors of every shape, size and kind. Boiled octopus tentacles hung off the table corner of one food vendor, while diagonally, beautiful scarves and stockings littered the table. It felt completely normal to meet Jen in a foreign country as our original friendship began and flourished in Italy. And as I had received my first paycheck, I was excited to finally allow myself to splurge a bit. Besides a cheap pink watch, that I am sure will break within the month, I bought myself a beautiful new coat and hat (which were both on sale, thank you very much, so not too much splurging!) I am so thankful, my cold released me from it's clutches allowing me to meet my dear friend Jen and to finally see a bit of Seoul. I can't wait to go back for more shopping, however next time hopefully Kyle will be with me!

My new coat. Notice the girly ruffles on the sleeves, and the sparkly buttons.

In Korea

It is Monday 5am Korean time, but my bewildered body clock and anxiety has stricken me awake against my will. I have just returned from a nightly prowl around the school. The stillness and darkness were palpable, making my lurking feel mischievous and delightfully naughty. My mission was to find the computer lab since the internet in my room is not working as of yet. As I secretly tip toed around the school unsuccessful in my mission to find that which I have already been shown in the haze of my arrival, I felt a twinge of excitement. It possibly is the first I have felt since loading the plan in San Antonio. As the flutter of excitement began to flutter away, I snatched it and held it in my cupped hands, tucking it away into my candy cane striped socks. I want to hold on to any shred of positive adrenaline that flutters my way.

I have dreamt in my multiple daydream escapades about the miraculous moment of stepping off the plane into South Korea, and feeling overwhelmed with happiness for having overcome adversity to finally achieve what I had set out to do. Although my heart did wiggle inside it’s ribcage hovel with a tad bit more animation when our wheels touched down, my reality was far removed from my fairytale vision. Of course in my vision, my dear darling hubby was with me making the trip generally easier and more enjoyable. In my vision, I didn’t have to push a cart while pulling my bag the twice the size of me through the very large and unfamiliar airport trying to avoid crashing into other travelers as I difficulty maneuvered the cart with one arm all the while lugging the body bag behind with the other arm. In my vision, someone waited as I exited the baggage claim to welcome, hug, and empty my pockets of the anxiety. In this vision, the phone call I made to my homecoming party was received and did not end in confusing Korean with no beep indicating to leave a message. After hauling my luggage what seemed a mile, I exited to airport. With sweat dripping down my back, the explosion of cold air was welcoming, but only for the span of 60 seconds after which I hastily found my jacket to ward off the icy wind. found my bus counter, paid for my ticket and loaded yet another mode of transportation. The hour and a half bus ride flew by and as I slugged off the bus, the sweet sound of my name “Vanessa?” was said. Two fellow teachers greeted me, took my bags and loaded everyone and everything into a taxicab. Relief swept over me, as did exhaustion. Tucked away in my candy cane striped socks is still the fluttering of excitement. Tomorrow with any luck, other friendly flutterers might flutter their way either to my heart or my socks.

My sadness at leaving Kyle

Standing on Kyle's doorstep, I willed the tears to remain stored inside and away from my burning cheeks. But as I looked at my first love, and said with an unconvincing and wavering voice "we won't cry" the tears as if on cue to disobey as one colossal force, spilled out of my eyelids and collapsed down my face heavy with grief. I wrapped my arms around Kyle as tight as they would squeeze wishing that if I held on tight enough, I wouldn't have to leave him and that we could stand on his doorstep forever in our loving embrace. As I reluctantly released my arms, I looked through my curtain of tears only to see my boyfriend's face also glistening with sadness. With my eyes closed, our hands found each others cheeks and we kissed what we hoped would not be the last. As I walked slowly to the car, I clenched my fists and muscles, contending the total melt down my body was had been threatening since the beginning of our goodbye. I slid into my car seat, buckled my seat belt, covered my head with my newly gifted college throw blanket and as my mom drove away, I cried. But it would not be accurate to solely use the verb cry to describe my reaction that day. As I hid under the Red Raider blanket, I felt my insides clinch and twist, causing pain and sorrow I had never known. For lack of a better phrase, my heart was breaking, and all I could do was to express the bitter affliction through heaves and sobs. I cried for the better half of the 7 hour trip to Lubbock.

Kyle and I began dating in December of my senior, his junior year at MacArthur High School. We had been friends for over a year, but when our relationship turned romantic we were attached from the hip from the start. Although we were securely attached, we were also both practical and knew that once I left for college, life and our relationship would be a struggle. Which is why we decided that the mature action to take was to break up before I left for school (5-7 hours away depending on who was driving). I conceded that I did not want the strain or confinement of a serious relationship my freshman year of college. I wanted to be able to date other guys and explore the proverbial fish in the sea. Kyle allowed it would be best for his senior year of high school to be a "single dude" without the pressure or burden of a long distance relationship. However, as the summer heat intensified and the days left together melted away so did our practicality and logical relationship decision. The evening I made up my mind to confess my true feelings, I called Kyle stating that I had something important to tell him. Kyle said that he would be right over, and he also had something he needed to discuss with me. I waited outside in the front yard on my mom's worn wooden bench, enjoying the breeze and the tranquility of the evening, all the while wringing my hands in anxiety at what Kyle's reaction would be. I was never one for wearing watches, but if I had, my wrist might have been sore from checking. After what seemed like an hour, Kyle showed up carrying a single flower. He greeted me with a kiss and sat down on the bench beside me. I looked deep into his eyes and said, "Kyle, I am in love with you and don't want to break up . I think what we have is really special and although a long distance relationship will be hard, I believe it will be worth it." Kyle smiled and said that that was exactly what he had wanted to talk to me about as well. That conversation was a turning point in our relationship, it was when we decided that our relationship was important, more important than the struggle and hardships that is created by long distance. We knew that the statistics were against us. We knew no successful couple in our situation and had absolutely no basis of a model, but we had love, trust and commitment and that would have to be enough.

I officially have a ticket to Korea and this Friday, I will leave Kyle for a second time to hold our teaching positions while Kyle continues his struggle to graduate. But rather than the separation of mere hours on the road, an ocean will seperate us. We are hopeful that this separation will last only a month, the time to process a visa, rather than the year away at college as before. Our time apart will be difficult, but I trust that God has a plan and maybe that plan is ultimately to make our relationship stronger through the hardship. I am taking a blanket on the plane, but I trust that my tears will obey this time and blubbering in front of a plane full of strangers will be avoided. My heart breaks a little bit more every time I think of leaving my soulmate, but our love and commitment is stronger than ever before, and I know that we will make it through the good times and the bad all the while holding hands.

The life of Nomads

I got to thinking the other day about how our life has evolved from being pretty settled and routine to that of nomads wandering the globe looking for a home. From the age of 8 months, I lived in the same house up until I left for college. I can trace some of my friends back all the way to elementary school and before. My oldest friend, Susie, a neighbor from across the street, and I have been friends since the time we could speak. Never changing homes meant that I went from elementary to middle to high school with practically the same people. I enjoyed the stability of constantly being surrounded by familiarity. When I left for college, however, that constancy and stability that I had so depended on, fell from under me. After I graduated from college, we, Kyle and I, decided that we wanted a life of adventure, we wanted to see the world before "settling down" to lead a "typical" American life.


Here is a glimpse of our journey from the time we were married until now. (And in fact this list could be extended back to the beginning of college, but that is another post all together)

August 06- December 06 – We were actually married in September but our lease started in Aug. We lived in our apartment in Austin while Kyle finished what we thought would be his final semester in college.

December 06- March 07- We moved all of our belongings into my mother's garage, and we moved in with my mom after our lease in Austin was up. Living with my mom made financial sense, especially since we were leaving for our volunteer postions in Chile in March.

March 07- November 07- We lived in Chile with a wonderful host family, made absolutely NO money, and came back further in debt than we started.

November 07- July 08- We had planned on just moving in with my mom for a couple of months before we left for South Korea (where we would actually make money) to teach English. The original plan was to leave in March, but when all hell broke loose, and our plans fell to crap, we extended our stay to what we thought would only be through the summer.

July 08- mid August 08- Three week road trip visiting family and friends

August 08- October 08- Lived with our aunt in Seattle. Once again we thought we would be in Seattle for a couple of weeks, only until early September when we received news that once again Kyle would not be graduating.

October 08- Now – living in San Antonio, house sitting Grandma Dee Dee's house.

Dec. 5- Vanessa, if all our stones fall into place, will leave for South Korea, and hopefully Kyle will only be a month behind.

What made me think of writing this post in the first place was moving into Grandma Dee Dee's house. I realized that for nearly the entirety of our two years of marriage we have only lived together, just the two of us, for 4 months. Having a place to call our own, at least for this short time, has been really rewarding and gratifying. Although we are adventurous, and love traveling to the four corners of the world, we are also very domestic as well. We love to cook (not clean), throw dinner parties, decorate and anything else that one does in one's own home. There are times when I wish that we could have our own place, but that day will come, just not today. Today: explore and be nomads. Tomorrow: who knows?

A letter to Jake the Cat

Dear Jakey-poo,
Our lovely adopted cat. When we first started housing sitting Grandma Dee Dee's house, we weren't so sure about you. You would stay outside as long as possible, until your stomach grumbled and complained enough to will you into the treacherous house long enough to eat and run out into the wilderness of the backyard again. It has been several weeks now, however, that you have graciously allowed us to remain in the house as your temporary adopted owners. And for the most part we have enjoyed our time together, but I have some questions for you;

Do you think our bathroom is also your bathroom?

The first time we discovered the rancid smell emanating from the bathroom, Kyle asked if I was the culprit. Kyle, my husband, in all seriousness, asked his wife, the love of his life, the woman he agreed to cherish for the rest of his days, if she was the guilty party to the putrid stink. A note to men, do not ask your wife/girlfriend/partner/whomever if they stunk up the bathroom, they are ladies and therefore do not have the appropriate gene for said stinking, therefore if there is no one else in the house to accredit the stinking, the blame falls either to you, the male or an animal, basically the same thing as a male. To his credit, he had yet to discover that source was coming from the floor, not the toilet but once again, wives are not capable of such atrocities. I do, however unwillingly admit that I am human and go #2 like the rest of the woman race, however our #2 is either odorless or smells of expensive perfume. No where in my DNA make up is it possible to produce such a beastly smell as that!
Now Jake, I appreciate your efforts in trying to cover up your wrong doings with a towel, but why! Why did you despoil a towel that I use to wipe off my clean body? And how? How did you get the towel down from the shower curtain? Are you a supercat? Do you have some super abilities that we are unaware of? And although your efforts were probably honorable, I am giving you the benefit of a doubt here (work with me) the use of the towel to cover up your droppings is counter productive. Rather than helping us, it just creates more of a mess than we had to begin with. Here is the list of items you have so far used and dirtied in your pooping escapades in the house.

• a towel
• a bathmat
• Kyle's sweatshirt

While you're at it, why don't you just desecrate more of our belongings like the pillows that we lay our heads down on, or maybe something truly special, my wedding dress for instance! Ok, so let's go back over this, you poop outside, we poop inside, you are a cat, we are humans, dirt is the appropriate means of covering up your business, not towels, not bathmats, not sweatshirts, dirt, Got it? Good!

Let's move on to feeding, shall we? We now have a pretty good understanding that you like food. Food is your life sustaining force. Food is yummy to your tummy. We get it! What we don't get is why you insist on trying to capsize the humans in order to get your food? Walking directly in front of a path of a human is dangerous and this is what will happen if you continue in your destructive path:
Jake rubs up against Vanessa's leg, subtly messaging Vanessa that he would like food now
Vanessa, annoyed, continues to walk

Jake moves in front of Vanessa's other leg, preventing walking, another subtle jester
Vanessa remembers that animal cruelty includes kicking cats and attempts to move around overly persistent cat
Relentlessly persistent cat does not like Vanessa moving away from cat food and continues reckless and pitiful rubbing of moving legs

Vanessa is unsuccessful in walking in a straight line and instead steps on cat, looses balance, waves arms in air helplessly, falls towards the floor in slow motion, with a deep and slow "NOOOOOO" echoing throughout the house
Jake witnessing the giant falling towards him has an appropriate freak out, unleashing claws, batting at the air at nothing in particular, then jumps 12 feet straight in the air, but not far enough away to avoid the fall of Vanessa,
Jake is trapped under human.
Everyone dies and Jake doesn't get food.

Okay, so everyone probably wouldn't die, but let me make this clear; stepping in my walking path and making me topple over is not a good strategy for getting food. I will feed you on my own time, and no you cannot have seconds and thirds. You have already gained weight since we have been feeding you. I will not be responsible for you becoming an obese cat!

Jake, it is my opinion that you need a new productive hobby. I have noticed that you particularly like the kneading of dough or my stomach, whichever. Are you trying to tell me as my Chilean students did by placing their hands on my stomach and asking if I was pregnant, that I am fat? Or do you want to become an actual bread maker? We would certainly appreciate freshly homemade bread if you want to put your skills to work. I would suggest however that you clean your paws before kneading and attempt to restrain from using your claws.

Your Loving Owners
Vanessa and Kyle

There's a lesson here I think (by Kyle)

So after we were finished volunteering at the Wine and Food festival this past Sunday, Vanessa and I were walking to the car when I realized that I really had to go. I should have gone before we left and I even commented that to myself but really, only women think of such things before the need arises. So I had a decision to make. We were roughly equidistant between the clean, comfortable and civilized bathrooms back at the festival and the thick brushy field/treeline next to the river. I have come to realize that when it comes to such situations, my inner manliness, that is often suppressed, finds it's way out. So with a grunt of affirmation, I headed for Man's true toilet, the bush. I found a nice spot with ample cover from the other festival goers and did my business. I was wearing my cowboy boots that, for any of you that have worn a pair know, give you the superhuman ability to stomp through anything with a sense of invulnerability. I think this only comes to those of us with a y in our chromosomal makeup. So as I stomped back through the brush I saw a log in front of me and being filled with pride for having displayed my masculinity I thought, "must stomp log too." As I did three things happened seemingly all at once. The first thing, which triggered the next two was that I heard a noise that is only produced by two things in this world, a maraca and a rattlesnake. The chances of there being a mariachi lying in the grass next to the log I just stomped were pretty slim so I assumed it to be the later. The next thing that happened at seemingly the same time was that my superhuman boots allowed me to jump a superhuman distance away from snake, which looked to me to be about 18 feet long. Most rattlesnakes don't grow over 6 feet anymore but at the time I would have sworn it had tripled in size. The third thing that happened seemingly simultaneously was that, as the snake rattled, and I leaped into the air, every bit of the pride I had just felt, every ounce of my elevated masculinity disintegrated in a fraction of a second as I let out a scream that would have rivaled any twelve year old girl's. Thus, what started off as my manly moment of the week, ended in me screaming like a ninny, running from the wilderness to the safety and comfort of my Toyota Corrola. Good thing I have no shame left anyways.

Chris Jordan

Kyle and I had drinks with the Grojeans yesterday evening. We had a wonderful time gathered around greasy nachos, laughing and chatting. We discussed a myriad of topics including the change in American thinking from when it was better to fix something broken to the new mindset of just throwing it out and getting a new one with sparkles. I want to discuss consumerism later on in more detail, but this conversation led to a new conversation about a new upcoming artist from Seattle named Chris Jordan. Chris Jordan's work trys to make us understand statistics better by helping us to relate more to numbers thrown at us. Often times these numbers are so huge they no longer have any meaning for us.

So for instance when we hear that America uses 2 million plastic beverage bottles every five minutes, he helps to define what that number really is using 2 million plastic beverage bottles. It is really fascinating work and I want to share some of his pieces with you. (remember if you click on the photos they will enlarge for better details)

This is his statement:
Running the Numbers
An American Self-Portrait

Running the Numbers looks at contemporary American culture through the austere lens of statistics. Each image portrays a specific quantity of something: fifteen million sheets of office paper (five minutes of paper use); 106,000 aluminum cans (thirty seconds of can consumption) and so on. My hope is that images representing these quantities might have a different effect than the raw numbers alone, such as we find daily in articles and books. Statistics can feel abstract and anesthetizing, making it difficult to connect with and make meaning of 3.6 million SUV sales in one year, for example, or 2.3 million Americans in prison, or 32,000 breast augmentation surgeries in the U.S. every month.

This project visually examines these vast and bizarre measures of our society, in large intricately detailed prints assembled from thousands of smaller photographs. Employing themes such as the near versus the far, and the one versus the many, I hope to raise some questions about the role of the individual in a society that is increasingly enormous, incomprehensible, and overwhelming.

~chris jordan, Seattle, 2007

Skull With Cigarette, 2007 [based on a painting by Van Gogh]
72x98"

Depicts 200,000 packs of cigarettes, equal to the number of Americans who die from cigarette smoking every six months.

Barbie Dolls, 2008
60x80"

Depicts 32,000 Barbies, equal to the number of elective breast augmentation surgeries performed monthly in the US in 2006.

Plastic Cups, 2008
60x90"

Depicts one million plastic cups, the number used on airline flights in the US every six hours.


Cans Seurat, 2007
60x92"

Depicts 106,000 aluminum cans, the number used in the US every thirty seconds.

Haunted House

By the end of August BB's coworkers were already discussing their Halloween decoration plans for their office. "It's a big deal here." was what she kept hearing. Evidently, it wasn't just a big deal to her immediate office, but to the entire City Hall of Redmond building. They decorate for Halloween like it is the only holiday of the year. One man last year, built a grave with real dirt and a tombstone in his office. This being BB's first year in Redmond, she felt that she should live up to the standard set in the building. We scourged Redmond, Seattle and the surrounding towns looking up and down for Halloween decorations without much inspirations. Until one evening BB came home and suggested that with our extra time we build a Haunted house scene for her. Kyle being the brilliant visionary little boy in big boy clothing that he is jumped on the idea and immediately started to work sketching his plan.
He was thinking an elaborate Haunted House on top of a mountain situated next to a cemetery with an wrought-iron fence surrounding it and three trick-o-treaters standing outside looking frightened. We started with the grass. Kyle pictured lots of green but also blacked dead grass on his scene and the experts online suggested sawdust. So we made the trip to Home Depo and what do you know, they don't care about their their sawdust, any we found by the woodcutter machine was ours. We bought a large peice of ply wood 3ft by 15in was 51 cents, by far the cheapest thing we bought for the project besides the free saw dust. Once at home Kyle poured green paint into a platic container added water and sawdust and out came grass!
Next step was to make the play dough to make our skeletons, skulls, spiders, animals and general Halloween creatures. We looked through lots of play dough recipes but we ended up going with "Rubbery play dough" because we happened to have those ingredients on hand.

Rubbery Playdough

2 cups baking soda
1 1/2 cups water
1 cup cornstarch

After we boiled it and let it cool, we had white squishy play dough that smelled of baking soda. Kyle had read that microwaving the play dough would help the hardening process. My pumpkin however didn't appreciate the experiment and started to blow up like a peep when put in a microwave. If you look closely at the largest pumpkin you can still see his deformity poor guy. Air drying the slow way, we decided was the best option. Our Haunted house project was intended as a leisurely art project, something for us to do on the side as a fun activity, that is until we received the news that we needed to leave for Texas and our leisure activity turned into a Haunted House marathon race.The play dough after we had molded it and let it harden.
I am painting the cat and the caldron. You can't tell but I used lots of glitter against Kyle's manly wishes for a House of fright :)

Painting makes all the difference. Do you notice the bones in the cauldron?

This is the start of the mountain. After attempting to glue the styrofoam to the ply wood Kyle used the drill gun instead.

The mountain has been paper macheed. And Kyle is starting on the Haunted House.
The Haunted house with shingles and everything.
I am painting the shingles every shade of purple I can make.
BB is working on the graveyard.
The mountain has been painted and grassed. We are working on the cemetery and the iron fence made of toothpicks.
This is Haunted House scene before all of the ghosts and goblins. Do you see the stalagmites and stalactites? Kyle was very proud of his cave under the mountain.

I included this picture so you could see the detail of the grass on the mountain. The grass turns darker as it gets towards the mountain. The purple path leads the trick-o-treaters to the witches lair.

The finished product. Because we ran out of time we had to buy little trick-0-treaters instead of make them. But it still turned out great!

BB with her Haunted House scene displayed in her office.

The two headed-snake, cross-eyed frog and broomstick are all essentials in a Halloween scene.

The graveyard. Oooooo!

My ghost (the one I made) is the one covered in glitter and in the tree. Kyle's ghost is behind the gravestone.

I love our Haunted House!

Kyle's vulture is very creepy!

The "smoke" coming out of the cauldron is actually Buttercup's (the cat) hair. Gross but effective.

Do you see the flying bats?

BB insisted on a pink spider so to go with the theme, I gave her orange glitter pok-a-dots.

All in all it was an awesome project and we are very proud of our finished product. We love doing arts and crafts together and since this one turned out so well, we may have to continue this for other holidays in the future.