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Australia 2017

GETTING ACQUAINTED

Either I had too much caffeine or I’m really really excited for school to start. Or nervous. Maybe it’s all of those things. My heart was racing during orientation. Listening to our school leaders discuss some of the things to come was thrilling and daunting and overwhelming. I almost felt like running out of the room to get started. But we hadn’t officially been assigned anything yet. It’s like that feeling when you have a new boyfriend and he’s super handsome and you’re having dinner with your grandparents and all you can think about is finishing your pizza so you can drive to his house to see him. Um…or maybe that’s just me.

One thing I’m not too thrilled about is the food situation on campus. I may be spoiled, but I’m used to eating whatever I want, and eating well. But here I don’t have much of a choice. My stomach is already getting quite angry with me. I don’t want to be wasteful with my money and buy all my food off campus even though it’s already been “paid for” at school, but I think I’m gonna have to do it at least sometimes.

Finding a church to attend was a bit of an excursion. Some of the staff attend Lifeplace Church in West End Brisbane, which is about an hour ride on a train and then a bus. I’m grateful that my classmate, Louise, was willing to make the trek with me because I wouldn’t have felt comfortable to do it on my own, for the first time at least. After going to Brisbane city with some people yesterday we already knew how to ride the train. So after putting more money on our Go Cards we “tapped on” to the train at our home station and then “tapped off” at the city center. Once there I took it upon myself to pretend I was on the Amazing Race and scour the area quickly for signs pointing to the buses. We managed to find the correct bus stop easily enough, with only a slight confusion about which side of the road we needed to be on. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to braid my hair in a mirror. Does that only make sense in my mind? I just forget sometimes which side of the road the cars are supposed to be.

When I moved to NYC and rode a city bus for the first time I felt like I was in a cartoon. I was adorable. I felt the same way this time. When we waved the correct bus down, and it pulled to the side (the LEFT side), the driver seemed to me like he belonged in a children’s book. The kind of guy who’s got a funny hat and a pet monkey that helps him with ticket sales. Or is this a Curious George story? Cause there’s no one selling tickets on the bus. You tap on and off the same as with the train.

Everyone was super friendly at church. Louise and I befriended some old ladies, one of which spoke some much needed truth into my life (like a river of peace flowing over me) and one who offered to drive us home. Since we were new to church we got a free lunch. To be honest, what I expected was something like a poorly homemade lasagna or tuna casserole. But what we got was like something you would order at a real restaurant. Herby chicken with greens and grains with an orange dressing, orange and almond cake, and a 100% natural Parker’s organic lightly sparkling lemonade. I gobbled it up like someone who hadn’t properly eaten in days. Now if only I could get food like that on the regular.

Kaylene, who’s turning 60 next year (and quite excited about it), made good on her offer to save us from public transportation. She took us on a short drive to see what was around, while she shared about some of her travel adventures. There were tons of cute coffee shops and restaurants that I would love to visit. In my opinion it was like a mix between California and Brooklyn. Maybe next week I’ll get a chance to check it out.

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Australia 2017

THE ARRIVAL

It’s lightly raining and I’ve just eaten breakfast. Two pieces of toast with orange marmalade and a difficult to open blackberry jam. Thanks to the old woman who helped me crack it ajar. Black tea with honey in my new mint green mug, a welcome gift from the staff at the YWAM Brisbane School of Acting for the Screen. Though I do love my mug, I’m probably better off using one of the random assortment of mugs in the cafeteria so I don’t have to do any unnecessary dish washing.

I arrived in Australia several days ago (a 30 hour journey), and while I’m excited about what’s to come during my time here, I am also realizing that it will be a challenge. Or an adjustment, at the very least. It’s been 9 years since I’ve worked or lived in a YWAM setting, and even during those missionary years I only lived in a room with 6+ people once before. A village in Pailin, Cambodia. At least here I don’t have to take bucket showers and squat to shit. But I do have to carry my shower items and toothbrush into an unlocked communal bathroom each time unless I want Shower Lady, an intruder who sometimes wanders onto campus to take a shower and steals shampoo, to abscond with my belongings. She may or may not have shown up in several years according to my school leader, but I’m not ready to take the risk just yet.

Fortunately I was able to settle in on a bottom bunk in a room that I share with 6 other girls, and steal an extra “mattress” from an unused top bunk to better cushion my bones so they don’t drive into the wooden frame night after night. I also bought a couple more pillows from the shopping center so I could make my bed more pleasant to relax and sleep in. Hallelujah. There is an exit sign above the door that is bright AF, and since my bed is right next to it, I’m wondering if I should get makeshift curtains so I can feel like a royal English princess.

Side note: Speaking of royal, one of my new friends/roommates from Canada has a friend who is planning to name her newborn child Royal. We’ll find out in a week if it’s a boy or a girl. I simultaneously love it and hate it.

Currently I’m listening to the birds “chirp” or “sound like cats in heat” outside my window. This is definitely not the place for someone whose fear of birds is as strong as mine. Thankfully the noise of NYC is just as crazy, so it doesn’t disrupt my sleep. Just my daily life. I’ve been told that magpies (a cool looking black and white bird), will swoop on your head and try to steal your hair for its nest. So that’s awesome.

Before coming to the YWAM base, I spent a few days with Trish, a beautiful, exotic darling person who I love dearly (and her animals: an English staffy, a fluffly gray mother cat and a baby cat whose back legs are tangled up and useless. Sadly they have to be kept on separate floors because the mom hates her deformed child.) Trish took care of me as I adjusted to the time difference and dealt with the stresses of suddenly being in a new country. She took me to see some kangaroos in a field and showed me Runaway Bay where we took her dog for a walk and a swim. He found a steak knife in the water and we threw it back in (bad idea?).

Looking around, I often feel like I’m in Hawaii or California, two places that feel very much like home to me. And then suddenly I’ll hear someone speak in an Australian accent or say something like “It’s time for morning tea,” and I remember that I’m far, far away from home. I could get used to morning tea though.

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India

Going to India

My very good friend, Cynthia, invited me to be in her wedding. She is not Indian, but her fiancée is, and it therefore made sense for them to have the wedding in India. She said she understood if I couldn’t make it. But the truth is that I would be happy to participate in her wedding no matter where it was held, and to have a reason and the chance to go to India only made it an even more appealing prospect.

Going to India alone is somewhat frightening and also not because I’ve traveled to SE Asia many times and assume that most aspects will be similar, and therefore, doable for me. I was a bit of an emotional wreck after breaking up with my boyfriend over the phone while I waited for my flight from JFK to Delhi. The plane ride was long and full of tears, a couple movies (American Sniper, and Finding Dory), a book I absolutely hated (The Girls), and a bag of crushed peanuts which I thought was like internationally banned. I felt like I was back in 1960. But I guess these international flights to India throw caution to the wind when it comes to the dangerous peanut.

I didn’t sleep at all on the plane, partly because I never have an easy time of it, and partly because I was too distraught to think of anything but my doomed love life. Once I arrived in Delhi I had to make a domestic transfer which was not a new concept to me, but played out a little differently than I expected. The visa/passport checkpoint was a long wait, but worth it in the end because it gave me time to frantically text Cynthia to find out what address to write on my arrival card, a detail we failed to prepare for. Once that was settled I discovered I was in the wrong line. But I finally got through that mumbo jumbo and sailed past “customs” and rechecked my suitcase for the next flight to Pune. It was then that I suffered a slight casualty. My poor, unopened bottle of Smartwater was not allowed to come with me because I had to go through another security check. The sign also said no nail clippers, but thankfully (or not) security isn’t as tight as it should be and no one noticed the pair inside my purse (left there by my ex, which brought on more sappy tears). Had I known they weren’t as strict, I would have attempted to sneak that bottle of water through because as I accidentally learned on my return trip, they also don’t notice your open and half consumed water bottles. Oh well. There’s no use crying over spilled water.

This was my first time going through a separate metal detector designated for women only, and then be led into a little room with a curtain so that security could pat me down in private. I guess in this part of the world that would be a horrible thing for men to witness. Or a sexy thing? Although it did not feel that way to me.

My layover in Delhi was super long, and my lack of sleep was finally catching up with me. I was having difficulty keeping my eyes open, and eventually found a lounge chair to take a little catnap on. Once on the plane, I managed to sleep a little more, but was woken up for food service, which from my experience is a normal occurrence but still angered me just the same.

When the plane landed in Pune, I expected the weather to be hot as hell, but to my surprise it was actually a bit chilly. I didn’t take off my grandpa sweater that I almost didn’t even bring on this trip. After I retrieved my long awaited for luggage, I yet again blazed through “customs” which I should mention means that there is a sign reading CUSTOMS, but no one there to man the station, so I just walked out.

My international phone plan did not include much else besides texting and my texts didn’t seem to be getting through to Cynthia, so I bit the bullet and made the $1 per minute phone call to find out where she would be picking me up. Soon I was in the car with Cynthia and her husband to be, Arun, and plowing through the dusty streets toward my accommodations. I stayed with a woman named Suman who runs a community program through YWAM. It reminded me a lot of Cambodia. Similar architecture, bedding, bathrooms, etc. Cynthia was hospitable enough to leave me a little welcome basket stocked with essentials. A bottle of water, tissues, a bag of dried figs, coconut oil, and a chapstick that smells like Play-Doh (which I am using as I write this) to name a few. Oh! And a kurta.

After I brushed my teeth with sink water and then panicked for a while about whether or not I should have done that (see in Cambodia you can as long as you don’t swallow any of the water, but here I don’t know, so I spit vigorously until my mouth was a dry, dry desert) I got into bed and slept.

India Day 1

I woke up feeling like a zombie, but managed to take a cold shower (since I am an idiot and couldn’t figure out the water heater switch) and eat a late breakfast left out for me by the lovely Suman and/or her maid. An omelet, an apple, and a cup of tea. After Suman gave me a set of keys and explained how to lock and unlock the doors, Cynthia and her mom, Valerie, came over and we chatted until Arun arrived.

Since India is in the process of changing all their money over to new bills, there isn’t much to be exchanged, and you could end up standing in line only to get $30 worth of rupees. So Arun was kind enough to exchange some money for me from his personal stash.

Me: (seeing an old man on the bill) I like this guy. He’s cute.

Cynthia: Katie, that’s Ghandi.

Me: Oh. (pause) Well I still think he’s cute.

Then we all went around the corner to the tailor where I would get measured for my sari blouse. We waited while a random (or not so random as I found out) man came in and poured us all tiny “shots” of Chai in very thin plastic cups.

Once that was all done, Arun took Valerie to the essential oils store while Cynthia and I walked to The Coffee Jar. They were still in the process of opening up shop, so I got my arms waxed at the place next door on a whim while we waited.  After feeling less like an Italian monster, we ordered a pot of coffee to share and chatted about life and love (or the lack thereof in my case), until lunch time when we met up with Arun and Valerie at Meena’s Point. We ate some delicious Indian food (goat kheema, channa masala, etc), I learned some words in Hindi or Sanskrit or whatever, and drank more Chai tea which I had to put the breaks on because I had basically just been having caffeine all day and I didn’t want to pass out on my first official day in India.

After lunch we parted ways with Arun and took an Uber (who knew they had this in India) to the mall. We shopped for souvenirs for Valerie, and I found a pair of shoes for the wedding. After circling around and around for what felt like days, periodically being passed by a train full of kids down the corridors, we attempted to make our way to a place to get dinner and mango ice cream. Not speaking the language made that impossible so we went back inside the mall to eat. I started to feel a little icky in my tummy so Cynthia and her mom just ate ice cream and after much discussing and gesturing to some Indian rickshaw drivers, we ended up in another Uber on our way back to my house where I organized my clothes for the rest of my stay and went straight to bed with only a handful of almonds for dinner.

Day 2

I swear that overnight I heard an owl hooting. Are owls even indigenous to India? What I do know is that a pack of dogs went nuts for what felt like at least 30 minutes. Anyway, today started out with breakfast of hard boiled eggs and toast with jam, and a pear whose skin I sliced off to be extra cautious.

Cynthia and her mom showed up and informed me that the original plan to pick Lori, the other bridesmaid, up at the airport was on hold because her flight was delayed from Ethiopia to Mumbai (but as a consolation prize was upgraded to business class). So we waited outside for Isabelle, a Japanese Brazilian born woman who has lived in India for the past 20 years, was kind enough to lend us her family’s personal driver to escort us to various places so Valerie could finish buying souvenirs. He was very good except for the time he tried to drive off while Valerie was only halfway in the car. I was paralyzed with fear, but thankfully Valerie could speak up for herself and we managed to avoid a tragedy. We eventually found ourselves back at the mall, where, apparently, some floor tiles were being replaced or repaired unbeknownst to us.

Valerie: I keep getting the feeling that I’m going to slip and fall in this place.

Me: …?

Not 30 seconds later, I tripped into a small hole where a tile had been removed, and before I could warn her, Valerie was in the hole with me. Luckily it was only a little stumble and we all emerged unscathed, but amazed at Valerie’s premonition abilities.

Cynthia had wanted to get bangles for Lori and I to wear as part of our wedding ensemble, so we searched and searched for the perfect blue and gold bangles to match our saris. After much deliberation, and scouring images of Lori’s hands on Facebook, we determined that the bangles probably wouldn’t fit her as they only had one size. But we foolishly decided that we should get them anyway, and make Lori oil up and squeeze her bones together and MAKE them fit.

During all this driving around town, I got to see some holy cows meandering down the busy streets. I attempted to take some photos of houses and streets to show my mom when I got home, but that was not easily accomplished from a moving vehicle. Especially one that’s traveling through India.

Our last stop for shopping was at Djibouti, or whatever it was called (a grocery store actually called Dorabjee’s, but I couldn’t remember) for Valerie to get even more essential oils for her collection.

Cynthia and Arun had to have a meeting with their pastor about some logistics for the wedding, so Valerie and I chatted at Cynthia’s house. Meanwhile Lori’s flight was so delayed to Mumbai that she missed her connecting flight to Pune and instead of buying a brand new plane ticket that would have gotten her to us 17 hours later, Arun arranged for her to take a 4-5 hour cab ride instead. She arrived while they were still with the pastor, so Valerie and I welcomed her and got caught up on the saga of her journey during which I was analyzing her hands to determine if we could squeeze them through the bangles. Turns out we could not.

Next we went back to the tailor who was anxious to get Lori’s measurements for her sari blouse as the wedding was only in 3 days, and the chai tea man again supplied us with more scalding hot tea in plastic cups. Then we retreated to the comfort of Suman’s house to settle in for the night, and order some food. Thankfully an adorable Indian teenager was visiting Suman, and helped us to place our orders over the phone. Even then, there was a bit of confusion, but we eventually got our Chicken Masala, Chicken Tikka Masala, garlic naan and butter naan.  

After dinner, Lori got the hot water heater to work. Either she’s a magician or I’m an idiot. You can probably guess which is most likely.

Day 3

Lori and I lounged around and ate breakfast until Cynthia and Valerie came by and we took an Uber to meet with the woman (Neda) who would do Cynthia’s hair and makeup and drape her sari for the wedding. She was also helpful in finding someone who could do henna for us and directed us to a place down the road that does nice manicures and pedicures, which Lori and I desperately needed. But first we ate lunch at a western sort of place that served fresh lime sodas. Lori and I made the mistake of taking the waiter’s recommendation to have it with salt in it. :-/ The lamb burgers that promised to have mint aioli also didn’t deliver.

After lunch we traipsed off to the nail salon where they made us change into “pajamas” which were very large drawstring pants that swallowed me whole. They sat us down in some chairs and offered us tea or coffee and when I declined, the woman said “you really should have something” so I chose green tea with honey. Lori requested chai because they said it wouldn’t have any dairy (as she is lactose intolerant). I knew it was a false statement and when it arrived, we switched drinks because as I could have predicted, it most definitely had milk in it. Since Cynthia would prefer to do her own nails, she patiently waited outside for us to finish. The experience was lovely, but the actual painting of the nails was subpar and it took a little longer than expected. Oops.

Lori didn’t have any shoes for the wedding, so we found our way back to that crazy mall, but were sadly unsuccessful in our quest.

As a bachelorette party, if you can call it that, we decided to be low key and order some Korean food, watch a chick flick (Serendipity) and pray for Cynthia whose nerves were all in knots. Lori and I left her to rest and picked up a few items at the local grocery store on the way home (tea, chocolate, Indian spices for Lori to replicate some of her favorite Indian dishes), and went to bed.

Day 4

We were awoken at 8:00, by our gracious host, to inform us that the appointment we made for 8:30 would have to start early because our henna/mendhi artists had arrived already. So we dragged ourselves out to the living room in our pajamas and proceeded to show the ladies pictures and examples of what we would like. Apparently what we had chosen was too simple and they encouraged us to opt for much much more, but we stood our ground (mostly).

After they painted the backs of our hands (and my palms as well…), it was difficult to sit still while it dried. I only messed mine up a little bit. Once dry, you’re supposed to let the ink flake off on its own, but it’s very tempting to pick it off prematurely. But we did the best we could until about 12, when it was time to go to the hair salon for a wash and blow dry styling. The women who worked there were super sweet, but were not quite able to accomplish what I wanted them to do. Oh well. They served us more chai of course. I suppose it’s okay to leave with damp hair…

Lori and I were asked to help with wedding decorations at a local friend’s house. She suggested we get some lunch before we headed over there, and we decided on a place called The Takeaway. It seemed fine to me, but once inside Lori was apprehensive. I thought she was crazy. She wasn’t. More on that later. Plus, the delicious looking lemon drink I chose to buy turned out to be a mistake as well.

Me: Watch this drink be filled with salt.

Lori: Haha, yeah right.

Me: (takes sip…filled with salt)

We tied some bows on wedding programs, and met some lovely people including Shini Abraham, a woman I haven’t seen since I was about 12 years old. We had known each other once upon a time when we both lived in Texas, she was a young married woman, and I a child obviously. She happened to know the groom and I was there for the bride. What a small world!

After tying many bows, it was time for us to go back to get ready for the evening, so a Korean named Timothy drove us back to our hotel so we could do just that. We changed into “fancy clothes” and met Cynthia and Valerie at the tailor to make sure our sari blouses were ready. We tried them on, and mine ended up need a few quick alterations, and let me just say that getting in and out of that thing is quite an ordeal. They make it to fit you so snugly. It’s not the most graceful activity I’ve ever been seen doing.

Sima, the tailor who also owns a Baskin Robbins, gave me her card in case I needed any help once I got to Delhi after the wedding was over because it turns out her parents live there. How generous!

We then headed to China Grill for the rehearsal dinner. We had a lot of laughs with the wedding party and all the wonderful people who pitched in to make the wedding a success in various ways. Unfortunately that food I ate at The Takeaway earlier in the day started to become a problem. Great timing. Having diarrhea the day before you are in your friend’s wedding is a shame, to say the least.

I survived without any mishaps, and while we waited for an Uber to shuttle back home for the night, we shivered and shivered. Who knew India could be so cold? Back at home, Lori made me drink an Emergen-C to replenish what I had lost and would continue to lose until about 1:00am. Plus, I hadn’t been drinking nearly enough water on this trip anyway. Oops.

Day 5

As Lori and I talked into the wee hours of the morning, I was suddenly hungry. She said that was a good sign. And she was right because the storm had subsided, and I was able to sleep through the night without any more trips to the bathroom. When it was time for breakfast I ate a banana for good measure. Then we met Cynthia downstairs at 9:30 to go to the hotel where the wedding would take place. We made sure to bring what we needed for the day, including sweaters.

Once we arrived, we settled into the room the newlyweds would be sharing which was FREEZING due to the A/C blasting. I shut that &*%# down as soon as possible. But good thing I brought my sweater. I watched everyone eat breakfast and then we went up to the roof to do the rehearsal and talk logistics. I kept my sweater on despite the fact that the Indian sun was beating down with a fury. I think I might be turning into my grandmother who wore a sweater and complained of being cold no matter the temperature. Thankfully I haven’t quite reached the point of being elderly because I did eventually get hot and have to remove the trusty sweater. But not before everyone had a chance to laugh at me.

It was determined that I would stand behind Cynthia and deliver the ring when called upon. In the end there were still a few questions about when to sit and stand and walk, etc. but we left that to chance and headed back inside to eat sandwiches with the crusts cut off for lunch. And then to kill time we played a most fabulous (and new to me) game called Dutch Blitz while listening to 90s pop music. Arun even stopped by and played with us. I recommend every bride and groom play this with their wedding party right before the big event. It’s loads of fun.

Arun left when the hair and makeup ladies arrived to make Cynthia look like Jasmine from Aladdin and to drape mine and Lori’s saris.

This whole process took much longer than expected so the wedding did not start on time, but once we got up to the roof, everything was just beautiful. As I walked down the aisle to my designated spot, I noticed candles all along the floor causing me to panic a bit internally. No one caught on fire though, and the ceremony went smoothly. Then we stood around the Mr. and Mrs. and watched them cut the cake which I assumed would be disgusting as most wedding cakes are. How wrong, how horribly and wonderfully wrong I was! Cake was served before the meal (without plates – Indians often eat with their hands, even if it’s American style wedding cake baked by a Dutch wedding planner) and I am STILL thinking and dreaming of this cake. Not only was it the best wedding cake I’ve ever had, but the best cake period. What I wouldn’t give to be standing in a sari on top of a roof in India quickly shoving that cake into my mouth before it crumbled to the floor from my amateur fingers.

We also took some quick photos with the bride and groom before the guests could line up for their chance to do so as well. And then Lori and I gathered up some leftover flowers to toss surprise rose petals on the marriage bed and remove our belongings from their room.

(Bridal party without the bride and groom)

At one point during the reception, a little girl I did not know asked me, “Auntie, have you seen my mom?” and my heart just about melted. I had not seen her mom, but I wished I had so that I could help her. The way she called me auntie was adorable. She wasn’t in any danger or anything, and when I told her I hadn’t, she skipped along to play with her friends, leaving me with baby fever.

Lori and I were tasked with giving a quick last minute speech during the reception, but somehow the speeches got overlooked. To be honest, I was relieved. Once dinner and mingling was over, Arun’s brother Kirian drove us home and we helped each other fold up our saris, an activity I can’t even imagine doing solo (they are so so long!). Then we shared a tiny bottle of red wine (taken from an airplane) out of tin cups and went to bed.

Day 6

The events of the wedding must have really tuckered us out because we slept until 10am and only got up because I had to get ready for my flight to Delhi. Once I was all packed, Lori and I explored the town a little bit and had time for a quick foot massage for me, and facial for Lori. It was not the best experience I’ve ever had, but it wasn’t expensive so I shouldn’t complain.

Cynthia and Arun took me and Valerie to the airport since we were on the same flight. We said our goodbyes and once inside the airport I was glad to have Valerie with me because even though navigating foreign airports is not new to me, this one was a little bit confusing and it was comforting to have a friendly face with me. They changed our gate from upstairs to downstairs and there were 2 flights with similar #s (0786 and 7086) which was confusing almost everyone in every line so they kept making announcements and trying to herd the passengers to their correct gates. Once through the gate, we were led outside to climb into the plane by stairs, but it was a bit of a walk to get there. It wasn’t even clear which plane to board, just a wave of the hand by the gate agent.

It all worked out and I was seated next to a very chatty Indian man who befriended me on Facebook (which I later regretted and defriended). We talked about where I could buy souvenirs in Delhi. I was inquiring about where to buy loose leaf tea, and he proceeded to explain to me the process of brewing tea.

Anand: First you boil some water, and then you put a tea bag into a mug. Then you pour the water into the mug and let it steep for a few minutes.

Me: Oh no, I already know how to make tea. I just want to know where to buy it.

After arriving in Delhi and retrieving my suitcase I said goodbye to Valerie who was continuing on back to the states, and I made my way outside to find my driver: Prem (who reminded me of an Indian Tom Selleck…I think it was his mustache).

The drive back to the YWAM base where I would be staying was very long due to traffic. Along our journey, there were multiple times when my eyes went wide with terror, but I stayed silent. If I thought driving in New York or Cambodia was crazy, I was wrong. So much bumper to bumper traffic and honking that when a space finally opened up and we could drive at a normal speed, it almost felt euphoric. I felt like I was finally getting a glimpse of what I expected India to be. Very busy and dusty and chaotic.

While driving I saw a short little truck (which I thought was adorable and kinda wished it was my job to drive it around…another one of my crazy career ideas) and asked about what it was used for. Prem said that people used trucks like that because at night large trucks were not allowed on the roads. Then a large truck drove by and he said it was a “milk van.” I guess you can get away with being a large truck on the road if you call yourself a van.

The YWAM base was not at all what I expected. However, they fed me a late dinner of rice and daal (lentil soupy type stuff that I HEART) and some chicken with no meat attached. Pretty sure it was just bones with sauce.

Then we had an awkward discussion about money. The situation in India has made things very difficult. I was short some cash to pay for my stay there, but we finally worked it all out when I said I would have Arun send money from his Indian bank and would reimburse him later through PayPal.

I had to borrow a blanket and pillow because I did not bring my own, which I was instructed to do, but was impossible for me considering that I was only traveling to India for a short stay and did not have room in my suitcase for those things. “Bath time” was a challenge. I wasn’t exactly prepared to be back in missionary mode, but because I’ve already taken many bucket showers in my day I was able to manage. This was the first time, however, that I had to heat the water with a mess of wires plugged into the wall and then submerged in the bucket while balancing on a little wooden stick. It seemed a little bit precarious and dangerous to me, yet I survived.

The water got super hot, almost boiling in fact. So to make the water safe, I mixed the hot with the cold and managed to get clean. I borrowed an adapter (which I hadn’t needed in Pune) so I could charge my phone. I went straight to bed because I was getting up super early so Prem could take me to see the Taj Mahal.

Day 7

Woke up bright and early (well it was more like dark and early) to get dressed and meet Prem in front of the building. He was already waiting for me by his Jeep with a Guns n Roses bandana covering his mouth like a bank robber. The ride was way colder than I expected (which explains Prem’s bank robber mask) and I could even see my breath inside the car. I seriously was not prepared for this kind of weather.

Once on the highway, a heavy fog rolled in, rivaling what you might see in San Francisco. And yet we maintained a speed of 55 kilometers, slamming on the breaks every now and then when a stray dog or a person would dart in front of us. Prem confirmed my suspicions that a lot of accidents must happen on this road, but thankfully we did not experience that first hand. He asked me how I slept and when I told him that a mosquito kept me up all night long, he offered to let me take a nap in the back seat and said “No mosquito in here.” Tempting as it was, I declined. I was way too nervous about the fog to nod off. The drive, which was supposed to be about 3 hours was made even longer by the fog, and I shivered most of the way there. This time my sweater was not enough to keep me cozy.

We reached a toll booth and Prem got the idea to pay the toll with my credit card and he would reimburse me with cash so that I would have enough to use for my trip. The toll booth man said that he was 99.9% sure that my card would not work. But it did! Yay! Then we stopped for a breakfast of paratha and chai. The chai came in what looked like adorable little clay pots, and the paratha had potato, onions and spices inside, with a tab of butter on top. Prem is not a fan of butter on his paratha and gave his to me and said “you need it because you are small.” Kind as his gesture was to fatten me up, I didn’t even come close to using my own tab. Sitting with Prem in the fog amongst other Indians, eating our breakfast on the side of the road was my favorite experience thus far.

(What was Jon Lovitz doing here?)

We got back on the road and drove and drove and drove until we finally arrived in Agra. It appeared to be quite a poverty stricken area, which is probably why most people visiting the Taj Mahal are advised to stay in Delhi. I desperately wanted to take pictures of the architecture (or lack thereof). There were so many brightly colored, but decaying buildings and shanties. We passed one big pile of ruins that was covered in monkeys eating giant bunches of leaves. If only we weren’t weaving so quickly through the people, cars, and animals.

We arrived at the parking lot and found a spot. Then we bought our entrance tickets which came with a bottle of water and paper booties to cover our shoes once we arrived at the most sacred area of the Taj Mahal. We declined the many offers for tour guides, but gave in and let a man peddle us in his rickshaw to the entrance of the East Gate.

We wound our way through security, which was a breeze at this hour, and found that the Taj Mahal was completely obscured by the fog.

After a quick stop in the restroom, the fog had begun to lift, and continued to do so as the day went on. But to be honest, I found the view to be underwhelming. Perhaps it was because my expectations were too high. I was told that it was definitely a place worth visiting, and while I’m glad I went, I don’t think I would recommend it as a top of the list destination. But maybe it appears more brilliant in different lighting or at different times of the year. I was also devastated that I couldn’t climb one of the side towers and wave to the people below.

Due to my interest in old abandoned buildings, Prem suggested that I return to India another time and he would take me to Rajasthan, a place he thought I would enjoy much better.

After we left, we found the jeep to have a flat tire. Prem and some of the other guys working in the parking lot think it was an angry, rejected tour guide who punctured the tire on purpose! How rude! (I’ve been watching a lot of Fuller House recently.)

I offered to help him change the tire, but he just laughed at me and told me to stay inside. Once that was finished, we got back on the road and spotted a tire fixit man on the side of the road, so we stopped to let him repair the tire. Since the flat tire was on my side, Prem made a joke and said “I don’t know why this happened. You are not so heavy.” Haha, Prem. HA. HA.

When we FINALLY got back on the road, the wheel was making thumping noises. I thought we should stop and figure it out, Prem did not. He thought we should get on the highway and keep going until we found another fixit station. My face stayed contorted in suspense and fear until we reached a pit stop where he could get some help and I could get some lunch.

I ordered Idli Sambar at first, but was still hungry so I ordered Masala Dosa and chai. By the time that arrived, I had started to realize I was full, so I ate a little and took the rest home.

The ride back was long and hot and sleepy. We saw a lot of dead dogs on the way. Ack. Once back in Delhi, Prem came alive and expertly navigated the crowded streets but still giving me a small heart attack along the way. I seriously do not know how we did not crash over a thousand times.

Back at the YWAM base, I relaxed until dinner time which was a bit confusing. I was told dinner would be at 6:30, but when I went to the kitchen it was dark and empty. I twiddled my thumbs until about 7:00 when I found some other girls who helped me and ate with me (Pinky and Miriam). Apparently the food had already been prepared and was just covered with plates in the dark kitchen until you were ready to eat. We ate more daal (yay), some kind of curry, chaputi, and chutney (SO SPICY). The girls told me I looked Indian. I’ve been told I looked Chinese, Cambodian, and Japanese before which all make me laugh, but this was a first. They clarified, and said that I looked like I could be Kashmiri Indian. I still don’t know that I see it, but I was sort of flattered anyway.

Then I took my “bath” and went to sleep.

Day 8

I slept in until 9am because I knew I didn’t have much to do today. And it was a good thing I brought that leftover masala dosa home yesterday because there was only cornflakes for breakfast which I slept through anyway. So I devoured that, put on the kurta Cynthia had given me when I arrived in India, and played Candy Crush until noon. The international cell phone plan I had purchased allowed me to have 200MB of cellular data, so I turned it on and did some Instagramming.

Prem picked me up after he got home from church and we went in search of loose leaf tea. Everything appeared to be closed, probably due to the lack of cash flow across the country. But we did find a souvenir shop that was open and sold what I was looking for, only packaged it in a way that made it more expensive. What I really wanted was a market where they have spices and teas in giant piles like they sell at Chelsea Market in NYC. But at least this tea came directly from India so I bought it anyway.

I knew that we wouldn’t make it back to the YWAM base in time for lunch so I asked Prem to take me to get something quick and easy. After I shot down his suggestion to go to KFC, he took me to a place that sells Gujarati food. Apparently it’s a bit of a secret as it’s off the beaten path and not a lot of people know about it. Inside the restaurant, there is a community sink where you can wash your hands (because they eat with their hands).

We were then served endless amounts of foods including channa masala, aloo curry, daal, etc. It was pretty spicy, but bearable. It all tasted so good, and they just kept filling up our plates, so I kept eating. And then praying that I wouldn’t get sick. To drink, they served a little tin cup of sour milk, which I tasted and then immediately said “nope.”

I had a little time back at home to digest, and then I went to church with Miriam. First we got into a rickshaw but the driver wanted to overcharge us, probably because I’m white and he thinks I have a lot of money. I guess HE didn’t think I looked Kashmiri. So we got out, and stood on the side of the road while Miriam called her friend to pick us up in his car. It was a little bit confusing, but he eventually found us. But not before I watched many cars, buses, rickshaws, and a horse trot by.

Because it was Advent season, the church presented many dances and songs, some about snow and Santa Claus. Then Pinky, who was the MC, talked about the importance of hugging. And then she shared a quote from a therapist who said “We need 4 hugs a day for survival. We need 8 hugs a day for maintenance. We need 12 hugs a day for growth.” And then Pinky said we were “going to go into a time of hugging.” We were instructed to hug at least 8 people. Women with women and men with men. So after I hugged 8 random Indian women, the preacher preached his sermon. Then it was time to cut a cake to celebrate all the December birthdays, and then we did a gift exchange which I was not prepared for. I tried to sit on the side and watch, but they forced me to join and gave me a worship CD as the gift I would give. Everyone got a number on a piece of paper, and you had to find the other person who had the matching number. It was complete mayhem. My corresponding #42 finally found me and I opened my gift to find some candies and a tiny jar of honey (which actually came in handy when I arrived back in America). Then they served a large meal, which I could not even attempt to eat due to my giant lunch with Prem.

Then my host, Momo, took me home and I bathed and changed for my flight home. I took a short nap, and then peeled myself out of bed and met Prem downstairs.

On the way to the airport, we got stopped at a police checkpoint, and Prem had to blow into a breathalyzer to check if he was drunk. He was not, and since it was a routine check, he maintained his usual warm smile throughout the procedure. It was all very pleasant and jovial. Then after we got back on our way, Prem asked me a million questions about what America is like. Questions like: How much is your rent? How easy is it to get a government job? Why don’t I want a government job? Are there any tourism spots in America? Is it legal to have a child outside of marriage? How far is it to travel to Hawaii by train? I did my best to answer these questions in a way that he could understand but I found myself becoming exhausted.

I had planned to give him whatever rupees I had leftover once we got to the airport, but in the shuffle, I forgot and felt so terrible. But I couldn’t take them with me to America because I’m pretty sure the grocery stores don’t accept those as payment in my neighborhood. So I miraculously managed to spend every cent (except one, which I gave as a souvenir upon my return) on a book to read on the plane (The Revenant), some snacks, Starbucks coffee, and random souvenirs I found in my terminal. So congratulations to those of you who received souvenirs as a result of my forgetfulness.

The airport in Delhi is a silent airport. There are signs everywhere indicating this. I don’t understand why, but be warned if you ever travel through here because if you decide to take a nap while you wait for your flight to board, you could very well miss it. While I was busy playing games on my phone, there was a silent line forming behind me, and thankfully I noticed in time and did not miss my flight. It was a long journey home, and my little TV screen didn’t work, so I couldn’t watch movies, and my overhead light didn’t work either so I couldn’t read unless I used the flashlight from my cell phone (which I did for a short period of time). I miraculously fell asleep most of the way home, but it still took me over a week to recover from jet lag.

[kcontini]

Kamanda and Mista Go Camping

Apparently my roommate, Amanda, and I have been dubbed “Kamanda” by Mike and Krista who I had previously referred to as Mista.

In preparation for our trip, Amanda and I ate a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs drizzled with sriracha, avocado, and leftovers from the night before, including mashed potatoes and collard greens. Ready, set, go.

Our original plan was to go to Acadia National Park, but since we didn’t really have enough time to make the long trek, we opted to do an overnight at Island Pond in Harriman State Park. This is just about an hour ride on a Shortline bus from Port Authority to 1 Arden Valley Road (don’t ask the bus driver to drop you there. He “doesn’t know where that is.”)

Since Arden Valley Road is not a real stop along the route, Krista took control and thanks to Google Maps was able to alert the driver when we needed to hop off. We then walked along the road until we arrived at a parking lot near the entrance of the Island Pond trailhead (which I learned is part of the Appalachian Trail).

We had two options. Go for a shorter, but strenuous hike or a longer but less strenuous one. We opted for the shorter one because Mike wanted to take a nap while the rest of us “played.” Okay Mike, you’re not our dad.

We began the 1.1 mile strenuous hike, further confirming what I already knew. I’m out of shape. I guess all the hiking I did back in March during Parks and Trekreation wasn’t enough exercise to last me a lifetime, which I had hoped it would be.

The hike was not so far, but it was a pretty steep climb and my heart rate was pushing 140 at times, though my Fitbit has been lying to me lately. More on that later. I trailed behind most of the way while Amanda, Krista and Mike blazed ahead and my calves and quads screamed at me to slow down. Or just stop. Mike kindly stayed behind with me while I hydrated and recovered a bit, and we eventually made it up to our destination.

Swimming in the pond, camping and making fires is expressly prohibited according to the many signs we saw along the way. But like the rebels we are, we planned to ignore them.

First things first. Lunchtime. Tanka bites, carrots, and rice cakes with peanut butter and thanks to Krista’s cleverness, trail mix on top. This was surprisingly filling. Next up, chillin. We parked our butts on a nice looking rock near the pond and basked in the sun like the little lizard that prompted a scream out of Amanda during lunchtime.

Krista: Hey, wanna see something cool?

Us: Yeah, sure.

Krista then instructed me to film her legs with the slow motion feature while Mike slapped them. That kept us entertained for a while. Try it yourself if you’re bored. 

Amanda realized she left the rice cakes out, and afraid that chipmunks would tear them to shreds, Amanda and Krista went on a reconnaissance mission to survey the possible damage and recover the remains.

Mike and I stayed behind and came up with a couple “would you rather” questions of sorts. What we learned from these hypotheticals is that I am lonely, and Mike is selfish.

I started to feel like we were being scorched by the sun, so we made our way back to the others and basically just sat around and talked until the sun started to go down. Mike and Krista regaled us with stories of their recent trip to Germany. We also determined that I was the weakest link and that if a bear came, they would sacrifice me to escape.

(This is what they would look like after the deed was done.)

Suddenly a hot, shirtless guy showed up (if you look closely you can see him perched on the rock) and we discussed him at length and only later realized the sound carries quite well when a couple of ladies swam by and we could hear their discussion about classical music. When the guy left, at least he left with an ego boost.

Then I had to pee, and found what I thought was a perfect spot between a couple rocks on a downward slope. I guess I didn’t go far enough away, and Mike turned the corner to find a different kind of view than he was probably expecting. Oops.

Before we lost too much light, we took advantage of the golden hour and did a little photo shoot. Krista and Amanda employed me as their photographer to do a “mild” take on #mountainbabesexposed. Instead of going completely topless and facing away, they kept their sports bras on and did a little “yoga.”

Once the coast was clear and there were no park rangers around to yell at us, we set up our tents.

Then Mike began filtering some pond water, while the rest of us gathered up some wood to start a fire. Once that was complete, we ate some pre-made Onigiri rice balls with pork belly and pickled vegetables that Mike made the night before. Then we put on our headlamps and made a fire and hot chocolate and tea. We sat around and became mesmerized by the fire and filmed it using the slo-mo feature until bedtime.

Amanda and I brushed our teeth by a nice looking tree, but I made the mistake of looking up to find a giant spider in a web. We kept our composure, and finished brushing under the spider web, careful not to alert Krista to its presence as she would surely have shit a brick. Why we didn’t just walk away, I don’t really know. Laziness probably.

While standing near the tent, my Fitbit alerted me that I had just reached my 10,000 steps which is a total lie because I was standing completely still at the time. So now I can’t believe anything it says. I think we need to break up. Plus, I’m not that attracted to it anyway. I’m thinking about an Apple Watch.

Once we were cozy inside our tents, Amanda wouldn’t stop talking about bears, so I tried my best to assure her that a bear wouldn’t come along and eat us. Changing the subject didn’t work, but eventually we “fell asleep.” I put that in quotes because I never sleep very well on the ground. At one point in the middle of the night, I felt Amanda vigorously pressing up against me and I remember thinking that it felt nice and made my back feel better for a short while. It was like a mini massage. In the morning, uneaten by bears, we emerged from our sleeping bags to find a daddy long legs on Amanda’s knee. She bravely kept still while I searched for a weapon to slay it. I used the bag of extra tent pegs. At this time, I also found out that the reason Amanda was vigorously pressing up against me is because I had rolled over and squished her into the corner of the tent. She was pushing me back to my side. Sorry!

We packed up our stuff and hurriedly made coffee so we could get an early start down the mountain. Once we got down to the road (coming down was much easier than going up by the way), a barrage of men in douchey sports cars whizzed past us at breakneck speed, kicking up gravel that pelted us in the necks, angering me to the point of flipping the middle finger when they turned around and recklessly sped past us a second time. We had half a mind to make use of the slo-mo feature again and get their license plates to report them to the cops.

Since we got dropped off at a non stop stop, we had to hail the return bus as it made its way to a real stop that was too far away to walk to. We got to the main road about 20 minutes too early, so we shivered in the cool morning air as we ate breakfasts of rice balls and meat sticks and RX bars on the side of the road, and I ran in place to warm up. The bus finally came and we confused a car driving next to it as we wildly waved it down.

(from left to right: John Lennon, Amanda, Krista, Mike)

Once we arrived at Port Authority, we all hugged and said our goodbyes and Amanda and I spent the rest of the day napping and watching movies. The Martian was way better than I expected it to be. Good job, Matt Damon. We both basically had a really badass weekend. 

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation - Day 10

#parksandtrekreation #katieandkristagowest

Day 10 - April 2, 2016 The End

Waking up in a large and cozy hotel bed was delightful. We showered and packed up in preparation for our flight home, including the tent (pretty perfectly on the first try, which is a feat in and of itself), then checked out of the hotel. I realized I had forgotten to tip the maid, so Krista went to get the car from the valet while I ran back in to remedy my mistake. It took longer than I expected because I had to basically check back in to get a key, go all the way to the 19th floor, leave the money and then check out again.

Apparently while Krista waited for me in the passenger seat, a brigade of maids passed by on their way in to work and when I opened the door to get in the driver’s seat, Krista was startled, thinking I was one of the maids. Once she realized it was only me, we drove to the Hard Rock Hotel to have breakfast at Culinary Dropout.

The food was delicious. The decor was very hipster-like. We sat by a fire, drank fancy Bloody Mary’s, and ate smoked salmon and biscuits and gravy. It was so lovely that we could have stayed all day (which our beautiful, 80’s retro hip-hop waitress informed us was quite alright), but we figured we should give up our table and explore at least a little bit of Las Vegas.

We went to Fremont Street (the old downtown area) and walked amongst some Las Vegas style crazies. I think I prefer the New York style crazies that I’m accustomed to. Krista wanted to go into a largely Native American souvenir shop which had nothing of interest, but we stayed in there for far too long anyway. We stopped at a grocery store to buy coconut water and a blast from my past - an Original New York Seltzer in Peach flavor.

Then we stopped to watch an 8 year old “Wonder Kid” who sang a Christina Perry song to the crowd as her parents informed us that they were engineers who were not profiting from their daughter’s tips. But a crazy, homeless man yelled death threats anyway. We took that as our cue to move on.

Trying to escape the madness, we had the bright idea to circumvent Fremont Street by going through the Golden Nugget but ended up just getting lost in there. Add casinos to the list of places we cannot successfully navigate. After that debacle, we found ourselves at the “adult jungle gym” that our waitress told us about. Lies. It was most definitely a place for kids, but with stores and restaurants surrounding it. To kill time before our red-eye flight, we just browsed some shops, made friends with a chatty jewelry store worker from North Carolina until new customers came in and she lost interest in us, then we sat in some chairs until we realized we could just go back to the Harrah’s pool and be more comfortable.

Thanks to Aunt Joanie and our casino host, Bruce, we spent the rest of the afternoon in a poolside cabana.

After we got kicked out at closing time, we went to Sushi Way to have dinner. We still had some time to kill, but decided to just head to the airport anyway and return the rental car. The signs were not well marked and if not for GPS, we would still be driving around Las Vegas. Finally we said our goodbyes to our good little car and found our departure gate.

I had a moment of panic when I thought I had left my ATM card at Sushi Way, and after speaking to the restaurant staff for several minutes, I found it in my back pocket. Shoot. I’m turning into my mom. Then we took face swap photos on Snapchat while we waited for our flight. We laughed so much and so hard until we couldn’t take it anymore, irritating our throats and surely our fellow passengers as well.

Once on the plane there was a medical emergency one row ahead of us, but thankfully for the one having the emergency (and of course for the rest of us) it wasn’t so critical that we had to make an emergency landing, though it was an active situation for the flight attendants for the duration of the flight.

But we made it back to LaGuardia safe and sound, where my mom was kind enough to pick us up and drive us home.

This trip was beyond epic, completely surpassed our expectations, and will live on as one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had.

Here are some Boyz II Men lyrics to serve as a slightly ridiculous farewell to #parksandtrekreation:

It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday

How do I say goodbye to what we had? The good times that made us laugh Outweigh the bad. I thought we’d get to see forever But forever’s gone away It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday. I don’t know where this road Is going to lead All I know is where we’ve been And what we’ve been through. If we get to see tomorrow I hope it’s worth all the wait It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday. And I’ll take with me the memories To be my sunshine after the rain It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday. And I’ll take with me the memories To be my sunshine after the rain It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation - Day 9

#parksandtrekreation #katieandkristagowest

Day 9 - April 1, 2016 Las Vegas

Despite how freaking freezing it was during the night, we woke up on our last day in Zion feeling quite toasty inside our sleeping bags.

Since it was our last opportunity to eat breakfast in the great outdoors, we made our last two dehydrated breakfasts! Huevos Rancheros and a Breakfast Skillet. And coffee, of course. One of the breakfast pouches didn’t zip shut, so Krista balanced it precariously inside the tent with our sleeping bags wrapped around it to keep it warm. I was nervous for the 20 minutes it took to “cook,” just imagining watery eggs dumped all over our expensive sleeping bags. But Krista’s sleeping bag cooking skills are up to snuff and there were no spills. It turns out that two breakfasts is too many for us, so we ate what we could and trashed the rest.

As we packed up our belongings, we tried to think about what to do with our extra drinking water. It turned out that we had way too much with us and whether we just didn’t stay properly hydrated for the duration of this trip or it just wasn’t necessary, I don’t know. But we wouldn’t be able to bring it back with us on the plane so I offered it to our camp neighbors (the same ones who refused our extra JetBoil fuel), but they declined (again).

After a little while, they offered us some coffee, but we had already made some so now we were the ones declining. And I’m sure the only reason they even offered it to us in the first place is because we kept trying to unload our goods on them like the good Samaritans that we are. Once we were all packed up and ready to go, I shouted “Bye guys!!” in a last attempt at forcing a friendship on the neighbors. So awkward.

The park rangers were happy to take our JetBoil fuel and gallons of drinking water, so we donated those as we exited the campsite.

Driving to Las Vegas was HOT. But while we roasted in the sun, we came up with another great idea for a film. It’s a John Mayer special. Like, who is he really? A playboy? A sensitive lover? Pick one, John! You’re confusing everyone.

And you know what else is confusing? Las Vegas. Just finding the entrance to Harrah’s Hotel and Casino was an ordeal. The GPS began to malfunction as it instructed us to “Turn left. Turn…Tur…Tur…Tur..” But we shut that robot off, and managed to find it anyway. Krista sat in the car, while I checked in at the Diamond Lounge (thanks, Aunt Joanie!) On my way back to the car, I had a nice? exchange with a hotel worker:

Hotel Worker: Excuse me, miss. Are you a walker? Me: …what? why? Hotel Worker: It’s just that you look like a walker. Me: Oh…well I did just finish a big camping/hiking trip. Hotel Worker: It’s a compliment. You have good posture. You look good. Me: Thank you…

The car was in complete disarray from a week of camping and we didn’t want to embarrass ourselves in front of the fancy valet guys. So we planned to temporarily park in the self-parking lot so we could re-arrange our belongings and then go back and let the valet guys park the car for the sake of convenience. These casino parking garages are massive and even though we are now trail masters, we are still not parking garage masters. So after we finished re-arranging, we got lost trying to get back to the valet. Eventually we figured out how to escape the labyrinth and trundled into the hotel and up to the 19th floor to immediately take showers.

We requested razors (which I forgot in Krista’s NYC apartment) and bottles and bottles of lotion from room service. (We are so dry!) Then we decided to check out the swimming pool where we saw many strange birds. And by birds, I mean people. Some guy with a mullet, and not an ironic one I might add. A haggard old lady with red, sparkly stilettos. And more!

We figured we might as well get in the pool even though the overweight couple sitting on the edge told us it was too cold. They were right. It was too cold. But we got in anyway. Because we are on an adventure! After about 2 minutes that was enough adventure and we sat in the sun for a while until I felt like I was burning.

We went back into the hotel and got ready for dinner at Izakaya Go. It was in a strip mall, and the wait staff seated us right next to the one other couple in the place, which we thought was weird, until about 5 minutes later when the entire restaurant filled to capacity. We ordered like 6 things and asked our waiter if it would be enough. He said it would definitely be enough and we could always take the rest home. I think we surprised him when we ate every last bite of food on our plates.

To be honest, Las Vegas is not my favorite place, but I would be tempted to go back just to eat at this strip mall. It was so delicious and we ate so much that we fell into a food coma and lost all desire to explore the city. We laid on our individual Queen sized beds and chatted and reminisced about our trip until bedtime. Tammileetipslife followed me on Instagram and liked almost every single one of my #parksandtrekreation photos. Who ARE you, Tammileetipslife, you wonderful enigma?

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation - Day 8

#parksandtrekreation #katieandkristagowest

Day 8 - March 31, 2016

This morning we decided to have oatmeal and coffee for breakfast even though we had better options. Neither of us even likes oatmeal but we had 2 packets left so we figured we might as well eat em. Gross. But our wonderful host, Karolyn, made a fresh batch of cinnamon buns so that made breakfast a little more delightful. We wrote a thank you note in their guest book, said goodbye to our temporary friends, stripped the bed, and drove away from the Airbnb for the last time (although it was such a nice experience that I’m temped to go back again).

For our last day in Zion we decided to get on that stupid shuttle once more and ride it to Riverside Walk (aka Sinawava) because lazy Frank Large suggested we see it. I don’t know why we kept taking his advice days later when he clearly only gives useless information/suggestions. The trail was covered in slow moving people and fat squirrels. (There are signs all over the place about how you’re not supposed to feed the squirrels because they will get too fat and too comfortable around people and they WILL bite you. Clearly, no one cares about whether or not squirrels get fat.) The hike was supposed to last 1 hour, but we were determined to smoke the other tourists so we could get to the real activity of the day. Canyoneering. We managed to speed walk the trail in about 30 minutes. If we had seen this trail at the beginning of our trip we might not have been so disenchanted, but we had already seen so many majestic and amazing things that this paled in comparison.

Once we arrived back at the visitor’s center, we skipped over to Watchman campground where we had a reservation to check in, get instructions, and set up our last night of camping in a tent.

There were nice views of the surrounding mountains, but nowhere near as magical as “Escalonnie.”

We quickly set up the tent, made ramen for lunch on our picnic table, and then set off in search of the correct parking lot to meet our Rock Odyssey canyoneering guide, Gabby. Too bad we are directionally challenged when it comes to visitor’s centers (but not trails) because we walked in a very out of the way circle and through an “Employee Access Only” area where they keep all their tractors, only to find that the exit we needed to go through was just a straight shot from our campsite. Gabby was in the process of calling us when we finally found her. She was lovable from the start, a 22 year old, blonde, tan, rock climber with a twin. We chatted all day about The Bachelor, the boomerang app, Epic Bars, backcountry.com, and more!

She drove us about 30 minutes to a place called Lamb’s Knoll. Once we arrived, we got strapped into harnesses and helmets and hiked up some steep scrambles, did a little bushwhacking, and learned about repelling along the way.

We did 4 repels into slot canyons. I have to admit that even though I have done some repelling before and felt secure in the harness, there were a couple scary moments, where we were dangling over a pretty steep drop-off.

But Gabby made us feel very good about ourselves, saying that we were fast learners and very calm. The last repel was our favorite, and after that one, the only way to exit was through a very narrow slot, where we came across a “chalk rock,” the kind that crushed the real James Franco in 127 Hours. Yikes!

After our ride back to town, we exchanged Instagram info with Gabby, promised to give her a good review on Trip Advisor and parted ways. We stayed in town to do a little more souvenir shopping, then hopped on a shuttle back to the park so we could get dinner started at our campsite. We had way too much fuel for the JetBoil so I offered some to our camp neighbors. They didn’t know what a JetBoil was, so they declined. We ate Thai Coconut Beef Curry, Loaded Mashed Potatoes, chips and olives while everyone around us made real fires. Too bad we didn’t master the art of fire making on this trip because it looked oh so inviting.

After dinner we had to wait a thousand years for some slowpokes to finish washing their dishes at the only sink in the area before we could wash ours. Then we made some hot chocolate to drink inside the tent and warm up.

After that we went to the bathroom to prepare for bed but before we got into our sleeping bags for the last time, we noticed the sky was full of bright, beautiful, stars. We gazed at them until we got too cold. Did you know that stars literally twinkle? I guess these two #cityslickers are unaccustomed to seeing such wonders.

We fell asleep to the crackling sound of campfires all around us, hoping some of their warmth would waft our way…

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation - Day 7

#parksandtrekreation #katieandkristagowest

Day 7 - March 30, 2016

It was a lovely day to wake up at our leisure in our comfortable king-sized bed with mounds of pillows strewn about. I may have insulted Krista last night when I made a barrier of pillows between us. I just figured after sharing a narrow tent and sleeping on the same twin-sized bed the previous night (Krista opted to join me on the bottom bunk during our last night in the rustic cabin because the top bunk wasn’t as soft) that we might enjoy a small amount of privacy. Sorry, Krista! I didn’t mean anything by it!

The Airbnb has 5 rooms and each was occupied by other travelers. We befriended Paula who was visiting her daughter (April) in boarding school, (April was not interested in befriending us), Lisa from L.A. who shared a lot of personal medical information with us (TMI Lisa. TMI), Nico the German with large eyes, and Bart the older guy I don’t really know anything about. Breakfast was dehydrated biscuits and gravy with coffee and conversation.

Entering Zion National Park is a slow process. Frank Large wasn’t kidding, everyday IS a holiday at Zion.

Whilst stuck in traffic we began to discuss the terms used to describe attractive men. When I was in middle school I remember a girl asking me who I thought was “hot,” a term that shocked my innocent ears. It was a term I had up until that point never heard. I was accustomed to calling boys “cute.” We then discussed other terms such as “fine” and “sexy” and finally “handsome” which I think should be used for more mature men. The next term that popped into my head was “elderly,” a natural progression (of course) after handsome. This had us laughing uncontrollably, especially when we coined the term “geri” to describe elderly men. Feel free to put it into use. It sounds even better when you put an “af” at the end.

Example: That guy is geri as f^@$!

Once we finally got through the entrance, we were not eager to spend another day surrounded by tourists, so we looked for something off the beaten path. Krista is the champion of trail research as she found something on the internet called Many Pools Trail which is unmarked and less traveled. We drove along more curvy roads with stunning views and through a very long and dark tunnel cut into the mountain. This tunnel is not for the claustrophobic. You must put your headlights on because there is no other source of light except for an occasional window cut into the walls. After a few seconds of driving through this tunnel you start to get…well…tunnel vision.

Once we got through the tunnel, the internet instructed us to park in the designated “parking lot” which is more like a shoulder on a bend in the road. We were skeptical as to whether or not we would find a “spot,” but to our amazement (and Frank Large/Bobby Moynihan’s chagrin), we found a place and I parallel parked like a boss. We then walked 150 yards to a gully which signifies the entrance to the “trail.” Not fully knowing what a gully is or what 150 yards looks like or even if we had parked in the correct parking “lot”, we went ahead anyway. Seeing footprints in the dirt, we felt somewhat confident that we were in the right place.

I continued to “track” the footprints like I was Jack Shepard from Lost…

…until we came across a family of teenagers. I’m not gonna lie, before I heard a woman’s voice amongst them, I wasn’t 100% sure that we were’t about to get abducted. But while we lagged behind to take pictures, they continued their journey.

Words and even pictures do not do this part of the country justice.

Since Many Pools isn’t a real trail, there is not a clear path. The idea is to follow the trickles of water that flow from many small pools. These are indentations in the rocks filled with water. Some are shallow and some are not. If traveling with small children, the recommendation is to treat these as you would any other body of water, with caution.

After a while we got hungry and decided to take a little break and sit on a rock ledge to eat a Tanaka Bar. Tanaka Bars are neither as good as Epic Bars nor are they actually called Tanaka Bars (it’s just Tanka), but that’s what we’ve been calling them. So add this one to the list of officially changed names per Katie and Krista 2016.

A bee whose name I don’t know (I’m convinced it was the same jerky bee that followed us all day) was buzzing in our ear incessantly so we decided to get up and keep moving. We reached a spot where “most hikers” turn back, but we forged on. Every now and then Krista would say, “Well, I think that’s the end of our hike” and I would say “Or maybe not” and we would keep going.

It was a challenge in some places because like I mentioned before, there is no path. But seeing footprints along the way gave me hope that we were still on the right path. Plus, I was secretly determined to catch up to that family I previously thought might murder us. We did a lot of scrambling and even went through some tricky water crossings. After all, this isn’t called Many Pools for nothing. And according to someone geri af that we passed along the way, there are more than 200 pools in this place. He said that he “counted” them, but really what he did was take a picture of every single one and he planned to count them at home. #sogeri.

Krista was a trooper and kept going at my behest even though her boots were not exactly water proof like mine. And we did eventually find that family at the end/top of the “trail.” It was then, and only then, that I felt we could return the way we came.

On the way back I tricked Krista into climbing atop a Lion King-esque plateau that was covered in animal feces to pose for a picture. (Earlier in the day she tried it, but hated all the poop and came back down. This time I said “Let’s just both go and see.” And then I left her there to put my photography skills to use.)

Then we came across many goats. Should this trail be called Many Goats instead of Many Pools? Good question. While Krista was still atop the ledge, there was a rock “avalanche” or possible stampede which made some loud grumbling noises and temporarily stunned both of us. But then it was over just as quickly as it began and we nonchalantly, and somewhat timidly (because we didn’t want to get rammed by their big horns) made our way past all the goats (Or are they rams? Mountain goats! They have big horns. Nope. Turns out they are Bighorn Sheep. Makes sense. What with the big horns and all).

About 5 minutes before we ended this trail I thought I had better put on some sunscreen. Tip: Don’t wait 5 minutes before you end a trail to put on some sunscreen.

I took my sunburned face and hands into the car, and shoveled trail mix into my famished body while Krista dug out more Tanaka Bars. I pulled down the sun visor and slid the mirror open to see that my mouth was orange. What the heck, Krista? How long has that been there and why didn’t you tell me and what is it even from?!

Trail mix and Tanaka Bars are no substitute for a meal after a long and challenging hike in the wilderness, so we drove into town and found Oscar’s Cafe, a well-reviewed joint on Yelp. We ordered a Murder Burger (to celebrate not getting murdered on the trail) and the Pork Chili Verde Burrito.

Once it arrived, while I was busy setting up my napkin or some such mundane activity, I heard Krista casually say “Why did that have to happen?” When I looked up, her hand was covered in ketchup and she looked at me and then said “I’ve never had this much ketchup on my hand before.” This sent us both into uncontrollable laughter. We might have gone delirious again.

We managed to compose ourselves (not an easy task) and found the food to be delicious. So delicious, in fact, that we ate way too much and had to walk it off even though we just spent the last several hours walking.

While we strolled through town looking for souvenirs, one of the shop owners informed us that we were in Mountain Time and not Pacific Time as we thought all along. The time zones strike again! We just can’t get a handle on this time thing. Then my mom FaceTimed me from my grandmother’s wake (she wanted me to see how she was laid out since I couldn’t be there). This was an experience that I never imagined I would have in my life, but there’s a first time for everything.

Krista plugged in the address to help us navigate back to the Airbnb and I noticed it was taking us a different way this time. When it said we had “arrived” next to a cow pasture/homestead, I knew something wasn’t right. Then Krista said, “Wait. Are we in La Verkin or Hurricane?” Oh gosh. Oh how we laughed. Luckily we were only 5 minutes outside of the correct town (Hurricane) and we made it home safely. But still too full from our late lunch, we sat in the car for a while until we mustered up the energy to drag ourselves inside.

Then it was laundry time again! It was so pleasant to wash our clothes in a real house. And FINALLY, it was popcorn time, which we doused in the Garlic Parmesan seasoning introduced into our lives by Alexander the Great. Ironically, we never even used the coffee cup full of oil (still in the car’s cup holder) because there was a nice small bottle of oil available for use inside the house. So while the clothes spun in the washer and dryer, we joined our new friends at the dining room table and chatted until it was time to take a shower and get into bed. I did not make a pillow barrier again.

11:30pm. WAY past our bedtime.

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation - Day 6

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Day 6 - March 29, 2016

Zion

The plan was to wake up super early, and drive to Zion to get there early enough to stake out a “first come, first served” spot at South Campground, but…remember that snow falling last night? Well, the chubby German girl was not making anything up. We woke up to our car (and the world) buried in snow.

At about 5:30am, we attempted to leave anyway after Krista found a broom in the cabin which she used to brush the snow off the car, MacGyver style.

We managed to drive over the snow in our Elantra to the bathroom without getting stuck, but then decided to chill in the cabin and regroup. If it was snowing this much in Bryce, we figured it would be similar in Zion. We came this far without any real trouble and decided not to risk our lives camping in the snow. We settled on an Airbnb for the next 2 nights which claimed it was 20 minutes outside Zion National Park (it was really more like 30, but whatev.)

Back outside, the car was again covered in snow, but after putting that broom to good use one more time, we locked up the cabin, returned the keys, and headed in the direction that Apple Maps told me to go. I turned left out of the premises, and RIGHT at the light and drove for about 10 minutes past some horses with no blankets…

Me: Do you think those horses are cold just standing there in the snow? Krista: I think they will be okay as long as they have blankets. Me: They don’t. Krista: Then…I guess they’re fine?

…until Apple Maps told me to make a u-turn and go back the other way. Thanks Apple Maps for that totally unnecessary journey. It’s Google Maps from now on. Before getting back on the correct road, we thought we deserved a nice cup of coffee. We stopped to get some at a shop run by a sweet husband and wife which inspired us to come up with a great idea for a TV show. Picture this: The life of the coffee shop owners and the townspeople and tourists that frequent it. Maybe we could even find other podunk coffee shops in the neighboring towns. Ok it sounded fresh and interesting at 7:30am. Trust me. I think we’re on to something.

While listening to Chris Brown, we drove past the horses with no blankets, and through what I like to call the Puppy Chow Mountains (with all the snow falling and covering the mountains it looked like we were either in a black and white movie or the mountains were made of puppy chow)…

…and into Hurricane, UT where they don’t really have hurricanes to find our better than expected historic, Victorian Airbnb!

Me: I still like Chris Brown. Krista: You do? Me: Yeah. Is that bad? Krista: ...Nope!

Once inside, we almost didn’t leave again thanks to the delightful and informative conversation of our host (who fed us peach cakes and banana bread) and the memory foam mattress in our room which turned us into zombies. But we finally made lunch (ramen and potato chips) and a plan and ventured off to Zion. Hands down, the most touristy place of all. Inside the visitor’s center, a Bobby Moynihan look and act-alike park ranger named Frank Large gave us some park pointers. He had a graying ponytail and told us that “everyday at Zion is a holiday” and that we were unlikely to find parking at the trail we wanted to see (Canyon Overlook) and that Angel’s Landing would not be smart to attempt because of the recent snowfall. This was disappointing but also secretly a relief to both of us who were slightly terrified at the idea of braving the extremely high and narrow trail. Now at least we have a legitimate excuse as to why we didn’t go! Maybe next time. Maybe next time…?

It turns out that “Bobby Moynihan” doesn’t know us at all and has no idea what we are capable of because at his suggestion we took the Zion shuttle (filled with screaming children) toward Weeping Rock to do a short 30 minute hike. Now that we’re trail experts, this only took us about 10 minutes, tops. And while it wasn’t unpleasant to see, it was not worth the effort in our grand and experienced opinion.

So we hopped back onto the shuttle and got off at Zion Lodge to find the Emerald Pools trailhead.

We planned to do Lower Emerald Pools and Middle Emerald Pools, but due to flash flooding Middle EP was closed off, so we ended up doing Lower and Upper EP. It was rainy and snowy and cold, and this trail was heavily trafficked by tourists, which made for a less exciting experience, but we still managed to see some very beautiful things. Along one part of the trail we stood to the side to let a large group of British teenagers pass by, each saying thank you in their adorable accents. While I may not be fond of throngs of tourists, I am fond of throngs of polite British teens.

Krista played with my camera settings and gave me a few lessons on white balance.

And then I took some time to play around with focus.

On the drive back to the house, Krista reconnected with Mike over the phone and the two regaled each other about their respective trips (our currently happening one and his just completed one to Greece and Turkey). We told Mike about a chipmunk we met at Bryce. He didn’t seem impressed.

Back at “home” I happily washed my hair after a whole week of no washing. But for the fact that the shampoo in the bathroom was sub par and didn’t lather up very much, it felt great. Then we made our dinner: Rice Burrito Bowl with Beef and a packet of instant Herb and Butter Mashed Potatoes (which were cooked all the way and mixed properly this time, probably because we were inside a house and not in the freezing outdoors). Sadly we were too full to make popcorn. We will tomorrow!

Time for bed. But not before Krista reminded me of our “phone fall” litmus test. How to determine a trail’s degree of scariness: “If your phone fell right now, would you get it?”

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation - Day 5

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Day 5 - March 28, 2016

This day started off sad for me as I woke up to a text from my mom letting me know that my grandmother had passed away at 4am. Before I left for this trip, we knew she was on her way out of this world any day and she was more than ready at 98 years old. But of course when it comes to death, there’s never really a good time, and I was sad that I wouldn’t be there for the funeral (which would happen in a couple days).

RIP Granmda. I love you!

This morning’s breakfast consisted of leftovers from the night before (chicken, rice, veggies, and a lemon), peanut butter sandwiches, with more bland tea and coffee.

Since there was a laundromat on the premises of Ruby’s Inn and RV Park we figured we’d better take advantage of the opportunity to wash our stinky clothes and gather some info about Bryce Canyon from a very friendly Inn employee (who by the way, pronounced Escalante like this: Escalonnie. This kept us roaring with laughter throughout the rest of the trip. Why is this so funny to us? Because we’re delirious?).

As we entered Bryce Canyon we were finally able to make use of our annual pass which we simply presented to the gatekeeper. The first place we went was the Visitor Center which was heavily populated with tourists to get some info about which trails would be appropriate for us to attempt.  We spoke with an elderly park ranger who thought we seemed capable of completing the Figure 8 Trail (listed as “strenuous” due to length and steepness) which is a combo of Queen’s Garden Trail, Peekaboo Loop, and Navajo Trail. Due to the remaining ice and snow from winter, part of the Navajo Trail was closed, but he highlighted the way we should go on the map so we could do a modified version. I told my mother I wouldn’t do anything too difficult or strenuous, but this seemed like something we could accomplish without being reckless. It was a super cool, but very taxing hike.

We saw majestic views, trekked through mud and ice, got a little wind-burned and sweaty at times. There were a lot of other female duos blazing the trail, which gave us more confidence in ourselves. We even met a chubby German girl coming in the opposite direction who gave us her take on her portion of the journey thus far. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was saying, but we did find out that she was planning to sleep in her car that night and that there was a snow storm coming.

We finished the trail in under the average time! And just as we reached the end, it began to snow as we walked along Rim Trail (“Easy”) to where our car was parked. After taking a minute to rest in the car, we made a stop at Ruby’s Inn General Store to buy ramen, instant mashed potatoes, and some chips. We also planned to get oil to make the popcorn that Alex had so kindly helped me purchase back in Harlem, but we couldn’t find a small enough bottle for our purposes.

Side note: On the way to the store in Harlem, Alex found a big stick propped up against a Stop sign and said “See. You don’t need to leave Harlem to find nature.” But on the trail I found an even bigger stick so…I win.

Back at the check out counter in Bryce, I was literally pushed out of the way by a large oaf of a man who said “oh! are these your groceries? Sorry! You go first.” Then he told the cashier that he thought we were finished because we had moved out of the way. Um. NO. You literally pushed me.

For dinner we ate at the restaurant inside Ruby’s Inn Best Western. (So many things called Ruby’s Inn around here. Who is Ruby? Some western lodging tycoon?) While waiting for our food, I FaceTimed with my family who were gathered together back in New Jersey. Krista ordered a hamburger and I chose to eat at the buffet which included a salad bar. This gave me an idea for the oil. We asked our waitress if she had a small container to put a little oil in to take away. She said they did not have that, but she generously brought us a large styrofoam cup filled almost to the brim with olive oil. What in tarnation are we gonna do with all that oil after we use like one tablespoon to make popcorn?

Back in our rustic cabin with our bellies full and the burden of having a giant coffee cup full of oil (which we carried with us for the remainder of the trip), we relaxed and got lost in the world of Instagram, laughing at memes, etc. For those of you who remember this important time in history, Instagram was telling everyone to turn on notifications if you wanted to continue to see the posts of people you follow. Everyone seemed up in arms, including me. We firmly decided that we would NOT kowtow to Instagram’s demands. No notifications.

Suddenly my body was furiously begging me to get to a bathroom. Stat. Because I was in so much pain, I threw on my shoes, ran to the car, wheeled out of there and to the serial killer bathroom that we swore we would never return to. I felt like I was in a horror film even more so than before. I was alone (without my phone), snow was falling, the wind was whipping my hair in all directions, the lights were flickering inside the bathroom. But my daring bathroom escapade left me unscathed.

After a long and tiring day, we went to get another well deserved shower. While naked and ready to get in the water I suddenly had to go to the bathroom yet again. Ugh. I put on my camp towel, walked out of the shower stall and into a bathroom stall. Feeling relieved, I went back to my shower stall (with all my clothes inside) only to find it mysteriously and magically locked from the inside. I jiggled the door in hopes of loosening the lock (with a mind of its own or a ghost of its own) to no avail. My only choice was to slither, yes slither, under the door. Flat on my stomach in nothing but a towel. The fun never ends.

Goodnight.

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation - Day 4

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Day 4 - March 27, 2016

Happy Easter!

Although the tent was on level ground, I still slept fitfully and woke up fully at 8:00am. It was pretty darn cold out, too, once we got out of the sleeping bags. We made oatmeal for breakfast, plus a peanut butter sandwich and an apple. Krista made instant coffee, and I had green tea and one stick of parking lot honey (see Day 1). Both of these hot beverages tasted like nothing. Maybe it’s the altitude’s fault on this front too? But more likely the brands we chose were not the best.

Gradually we packed up our things, and witnessed BLM coming through to clean up the other vacated campsites. Man, they really know how to do a job well.

Once we were ready for the day, we walked over to the Lower Calf Creek Falls Trail, signed the register, à la Cheryl Strayed, and began one the of most beautiful journeys in existence. For the life of me, I don’t know why more people don’t know about this place. Every time I mention it to someone they give me a blank stare.

Note: There was a sign at the start of the trail stating that there was a recent mountain lion sighting. What you’re supposed to do is talk and walk in large groups so that they won’t come near you. But if you do see one, make yourself look large, and slowly back away giving the animal time to also leave in peace. If it does not want to leave in peace and attacks you instead you gotta fight back. I’m not gonna lie. This terrified me a little.

Even so, we took our time, taking pictures along the way and marveling at the beauty.

We also met some new friendly friends, Tom and Barbara and their dog Cooper (aka Lewis! when he’s not listening well enough). We dubbed them our trail godparents. They offered to share their binoculars with us (an item I declared I would never need or want to have but admittedly turned out to be a little bit cool) to see granaries high up along the rock walls and pictographs painted by the ancient Fremont people.

Lower Calf Creek Falls Trail is easy to follow but at one point we did get slightly turned around after Tom, Barbara and Cooper forged on ahead of us, and we lingered behind to take more pictures. I did some scrambling up a big rock in case that was the right way, but Krista managed to find the trail again, and we marched onward. It started to get quite hot under the blazing sun so we delayered and applied some super thick sunscreen and kept going. We made sure to stop and drink a lot of water, but even so we never came close to running out.

As we approached the waterfall, we noticed everyone on the return trip was wearing sweatshirts and long sleeves. We couldn’t fathom it. Once we made it to the waterfall at the end (a 3 mile hike), we realized why. It was extremely misty and chilly at the falls. After we put our layers back on to avoid freezing (I even put on earmuffs), we found a log to rest on, and snacked on an Epic bar and some trail mix while we took in the view.

After we got too cold, we headed back the way we came, still in awe of our surroundings.

We continued to greet the passersby, and even passed something a bit surreal and reminiscent of a horror film. A teenaged boy with a younger boy on his shoulders walking in silence except for the creepy ice-cream-truck-like music emanating from their persons. Did that really happen? Or was it ghosts? Probably ghosts.

When we finished hiking the 3 miles back to the car, we high-fived and hugged each other as if we had just done something victorious. But if you think about how inexperienced we were at the start of this trip, we really were victorious if I do say so myself.

We hopped in the car and drove to Kiva Koffeehouse a few miles away to see if we could get directions to our next destination. We still didn’t have any service and due to the Escalante Visitor’s Center being closed, we were at a loss as to the next portion of the trip. The Koffeehouse was a rustic lodge type place nestled into the side of the rock and overlooking the epic landscape. The earthy barista who manned the counter gave us some directions and served us a drip coffee and a vanilla latte which we drank on the patio with the wind in our hair and a view to kill for. I just couldn’t believe we were actually sitting there experience this. They also have what they call the Kiva Kottage. I wouldn’t mind shelling out a few bucks to revisit and stay there in comfort in the future.

As we entered the place or town or whatever where we had planned to eat dinner that night (Hell’s Backbone Grill and Farm), our phones started getting a signal again and the messages came pouring in. My poor mom was worried since she hadn’t heard from me in over 24 hours (and I was told before the start of this trip to text her “every 5 minutes”). So we reconnected with our families and the social media world, and then sat like zombies inside a “trading post” after doing a little browsing for souvenirs.

The restaurant finally opened at 5:00 and we managed to get a table even though we did not have a reservation. It was heavenly to eat real food at a real (Zagat rated) restaurant. It was also quite romantic. Too bad our boyfriends weren’t there with us. Krista’s Mike and my non-existent one. But we had a bit of leftovers which we took with us when we left.

Next stop: Ruby’s Inn and RV Park near Bryce Canyon. We had to drive along more palm-sweat inducing roads, but we arrived safe and sound. We checked in and got a map of the grounds, indicating where the bathrooms and showers and laundry room were. Inside rustic cabin #3, the heat was on full blast and I thought I might throw up. We had to open the windows and door to air it out, but then we drove to the nearest bathroom to brush our teeth and do our business. Unfortunately this bathroom looked like the perfect location for a murder, so we high tailed it out of there as quickly as we could. We then drove to the shower area, which is where we should have brushed our teeth in the first place. Next time.

Krista forgot the soap in the cabin so we washed up with coconut shampoo instead. It felt weird, but so good to be all the way naked under hot running water. Then we went to sleep in our cabin bunk beds like we were kids at sleep away camp. 

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation Day 3

Day 3 - March 26, 2016

Due to the time change confusion, we set our alarm clocks earlier than necessary so we wouldn’t accidentally miss our reservation for a tour of Antelope Canyon at 9:10am. But once I woke up I realized we were being too cautious and went back to sleep. And yes, it was a challenge fighting the gravity pulling us to the bottom of the tent all night long. At one point while I was stuck at the bottom, I thought it would be no big deal to just quit fighting and stay there, but as the pain in my legs was steadily mounting I just couldn’t sleep through it. But ultimately we survived our first camping night!

When we crawled out of the tent, I stumbled around in the cold sand like a baby deer learning to walk for what felt like way too long for an adult human. But once I managed to regain my balance, we packed up the tent and took pics of the sunrise. Then we drove back off the sand and toward Antelope Canyon which was not open when we arrived, which means our time change calculations were still vastly off. There was a line of cars pulled off to the side of the road, and not realizing it was a line of people waiting for the gate to open, I smoothly pulled up and parked at the front of the line. While my phone’s battery had been completely drained in the night, I decided to take this waiting time as an opportunity to recharge.

After watching many Navajo/Antelope Canyon tour guides arrive to work, they finally opened the gate to the public. Since we were there an hour earlier than our scheduled tour, we asked if we could join an earlier one. The answer was yes, but she did NOT have time for our bullshit. We were led by a guy named Gene into the canyon with a large group of Koreans close on our heels, but we managed to get some stunning pictures before they caught up to us.

Gene even helped us take some shots of things he called “Rocky Mountain Sunrise” and “The Wave.” (I might have made up that second one but it seems like it could be correct.) As we neared the end of the canyon, we were beckoned by sounds of Gene playing the flute or something. I don’t know what this tradition is or what it means, but it sounded lovely and was a sweet end to the tour.

To exit the canyon you have to climb up a steep flight of stairs that are bolted into the rock walls. Since it’s quite a bit darker inside the canyon than it is above ground, you are hit with a blinding amount of light as you emerge. Krista went first and said “I feel like Kimmy Schmitt.” I found this hilarious until it was my turn, and totally understood what she was saying.

The opening credits of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmitt. Watch this show. It’s a gem.

Even though we opted not to pay an extra $10 per day! for a second driver on the rental car, Krista took the wheel as we headed toward Escalante. We made a stop at where else but another fast food joint. Wendy’s. I ordered the Son of a Baconator, and Krista got some chicken nuggets or something. It was my turn to drive again and when we arrived at the Escalante Visitor’s Center 3.5 hours later, we found that it was closed even though the website said it would be open. Luckily, as we had zero cell service and couldn’t use our GPS, there was a map in the parking area that showed our campsite was just a straight shot down the road a few more miles. Those few more miles turned out to be some of the scariest and most beautiful I have ever driven. They were extremely high up and curvy with no guard rails, so you could easily just drive off the edge to your death like in an action movie scene. Thankfully that did not happen, but I did do a good amount of sweating.

Lower Calf Creek Recreation area was our destination, where we were hoping for an open campsite as reservations were not an option. We felt like we won the lottery when we found what we agreed was the most perfect site in the whole place. We deposited the fee into the designated slot and drove over (and through) a creek to campsite #10.

It reminded us of the gold rush area at Disneyland. It was simultaneously cute and beautiful and cozy and majestic. With a backdrop of towering rocks and earth and sky, our site was on a little plateau with steps leading up to a nice (flat) area that was well cared for and prepared for campers by the BLM. It included a picnic table and a fire pit. We felt like we were playing house.

We set up the tent in a flash. Perhaps the fight against wind and sand and gravity the night before gave us the skills and the confidence to become professional outdoorswomen. 

I think we deserve a nap. We quickly fell asleep for a short while after discussing how epic this trip has already been.

We also did some exploring behind our campsite but couldn’t go too far, then took a little stroll through the campgrounds and found a cleaner than expected toilet area stocked with toilet paper.

We also found a drinking water pump, where we were able to do some dishes and wash some underwear and fill up some water bottles.

For dinner we had dehydrated mac and cheese. Even though we followed the directions to a T, it was al dente to say the least.

Then we made mashed potatoes with cheese and baco (which is tofu that tastes like bacon). Upon reading these instructions we realized that for higher elevations you have to wait longer to rehydrate these kinds of foods. After the lengthy wait, the potatoes were delicious, but not mixed too well. It’s a learning process!

Once it started getting too cold, we bundled up and got back into the tent, but it was still too light at 7:36 to go to sleep. We failed to bring cards or any games with us, so we played road trip games for like 3 minutes, but we were not entertained so we just talked until it was reasonable to go to sleep.

I don’t think I’ve gone to bed before midnight in quite some time, much less before 8:00pm. But hiking all day and sleeping in a tent will do that to you.

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation Day 2

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Day 2 - March 25, 2016

Grand Canyon - South Rim Horseshoe Bend Lake Powell

After waking up in the middle of the night to shut off the heater which was trying to suffocate me to death, we officially awoke at 5:00am (yet again), quickly packed our belongings and drove about 30 minutes to the south rim of the Grand Canyon in hopes of watching the sun rise. We followed a few other cars through the park entrance which was unmanned at that hour. Note: Krista and I had previously purchased an annual pass which gives you entry into all the national parks ($80), but if you don’t want to pay the entrance fee, just get there before the crack of dawn and you can sail on through.

We parked at the visitor’s center and followed the people to Mather’s Point. I guess we weren’t the only ones who had the idea to watch the sun rise over the Grand Canyon.

It was freezing so I was wearing fleece leggings underneath my hiking pants, many layers on my torso including a snowboarding jacket, and mittens. Even with all that my fingers were frozen as I tried to take pictures with my new Nikon D5300, a camera that I am just learning to use. A lot of time on this trip was spent adjusting settings. I’ll get the hang of it soon. I hope.

I did offer to let Krista take turns with my mittens since she failed to bring any with her on this trip even though it was definitely on our packing list. But she stubbornly refused every single time I offered.

Before we embarked on this epic trip I figured a selfie stick would come in handy and it did! After I played around with my real camera, we took out the selfie stick and got a couple shots in front of the grandest canyon. #sogrand

Once the sun started to show its face and was officially up, it was extremely bright. Who knew?

We got back in the car and once our fingers regained the ability to move, we made peanut butter sandwiches and ate an apple for breakfast. Then we made our way to what I thought was Bright Angel Trailhead and I said “here we are!” but it turned out to be the other side of the Visitor’s Center parking lot. Whatever. I’ve never been here! Thanks to Google Maps we were finally able to find the right place, but not without panicking a little as we tried to navigate the Grand Canyon Village and look for parking. But soon enough we found a spot, loaded up our flash packs with water and snacks (and the selfie stick) and found ourselves right near the trailhead where a nice older man asked us if it was our first time. How could he tell?

We began descending into the canyon and my first words to Krista were “make sure not to get too close to the edge” as images of falling to my death swirled around in my head. But once we got going I became more comfortable. In fact, it was a wide path that was very well maintained (a trend we saw at every park we explored). Shout out to the National Park Service and Bureau of Land Management!

Another trend was being greeted by friendly hikers with a “hello” or a “good morning” as we passed. So kumbaya. And at first, Krista and I would give each other a look every time it happened but as the trip progressed, we too started initiating the hellos and the good mornings. Every so often, we would move to the side to let other hikers pass since we were busy taking so many pictures and just repeating ourselves like broken records how “beautiful” our surroundings were. There’s something about this majestic part of the world that reduces my vocabulary to dust.

So we hiked down to the 1.5 mile rest house, which was a breeze. It took us about 45 minutes. We sat on a rock and just marveled silently, wishing we had a cup of coffee to go along with the view. But after several minutes it was time to make our way back up. Mostly everyone in the canyon seemed like reasonable people and families, but one girl daringly (and stupidly if you ask me) went past the “Do Not Enter - Dangerous Overlook” sign and balanced on the edge of the canyon in the yoga Tree pose. We were too angry at her to continue looking and moved on. At one point we had to move aside to let some people on mules pass us and I told the guide that I “liked his chaps or whatever” and he said “they’re batwings!” Ok. Good to know. I like your batwings.

Supposedly it takes twice as long to get back up to the top because of how steep it is, but because we stopped to take so many pictures on the way down and not as many on the way back up, it was about the same amount of time, though we were huffing and puffing all the way up. My Fitbit was like…sorry I’m not gonna tell you what your heart rate is cause you’re too sweaty or something.

Once at the top, we rewarded ourselves with an Epic Bar, and headed to our next destination: Horseshoe Bend, which is the east rim of the canyon. Two and a half hours later we arrived and  decided to eat at the Jack-in-the-Box in Page, AZ. And after we were disgustingly full of more fast food we parked on the road with all the other cars at Horseshoe Bend. To get to the big reveal, it was about a 15 minute walk, if that. It was beyond amazing and terrifying at the same time. There was no barrier or railing and as Krista walked closer and closer to the edge I loudly ordered her to “go no further!”

It was so windy that sand was being whipped into our faces at a terrific speed. (Idea: Go to Horseshoe Bend for a free microderm abrasion treatment.)

Once the wind calmed down a bit, I fearfully gripped my iPhone with all the strength I had in my sweaty fingers to take my own version of this iconic spot. (No Aunt Joanie, I did not steal this from the internet!)

After we’d had enough of this heart-pounding place, we drove on. On the way to our first camp site, Lake Powell, we saw other cars stopped on the road to have a look at a dam. So we followed suit.

Krista: “Do you know how a dam works?” Me: “No I don’t. Damn.”

Then Krista got the bright idea to balance on a guard rail post on the side of the highway to take a selfie. We hugged tightly and got this before jumping/almost falling off:

Lake Powell is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Surprise surprise. Another “beautiful” place. We drove our rental car over the sand to our perfect spot to camp. A spot on the beach with a clear view. We wrestled with the tent in the wind and blowing sand which was steadily accumulating inside, but finally managed to get it secured and virtually sand free.

We took a walk, and some slow motion videos of ourselves running down the beach, and then asked some strangers what time it was. It’s very confusing on this new land we’ve staked due to daylight savings issues.

Much to our dismay upon returning to the tent, we found it full of sand again. It is what it is. So we began cooking our first “camp meal,” Mesquite BBQ chicken with rice and beans which ended up being more like chili. The way you make these meals is to boil water in your JetBoil, pour it into the bag of dehydrated food, stir it, zip it up and wait the appropriate amount of time, which we patiently did. Even though the rice wasn’t cooked all the way, it was flavorful and filling.

After dinner we had the thrilling idea to make popcorn, but realizing we didn’t have any oil to put in the adorable pot we borrowed from Mike, we scrapped that idea and made hot chocolate and watched as the remaining daylight faded instead. It was beautiful and majestic and otherworldly.

As we had been holding our pee since we arrived at Lake Powell, we figured we’d better make a potty run to get ready for bed. Thankfully there was a real toilet with plenty of toilet paper nearby. Then we brushed our teeth by the bushes near the tent with water from our Nalgene bottle and hopped into our tent which we had set up on a slope for some crazy reason. Oh yeah. So we could have a nice view. So we snuggled into our uneven tent with our sleeping bags and sleeping pads and the still assembled JetBoil with the gas attached because we were too afraid to take it apart (Mike later informed us that the hissing gas sound we were hearing was just residual gas and would not blow us up as we unscrewed it. Well now we know!)

So we slept like inchworms in a constant battle to not get smushed into the bottom of the tent. We woke up multiple times and had to re-adjust, but as Krista got a call earlier in the evening letting her know she was approved to move in to a brand new studio starting in June, she was able to rest easy knowing she will soon be sleeping in one of the coolest buildings in Long Island City.

But #ourtentisfullofsand

[kcontini]

Parks and Trekreation Day 1

#parksandtrekreation #katieandkristagowest

It’s finally here! The trip Krista and I have been researching and planning for months. As I bought and collected various camping gear, I wondered if this trip would actually come to pass or if I was just wasting my hard earned money on a dream. It wasn’t until we purchased plane tickets that I knew it was real, but still I had no idea what adventures, hardships, and funny moments lay ahead. Would we be counting down the hours until we were safely and comfortably back on the east coast? Would we perish along some trail in the woods? (A thought that thanks to my mother and some other family members was constantly on my mind.) Or would we come back feeling victorious and full of wonderful stories to tell for years to come?

Day 1 - March 24th, 2016

We woke up in Krista’s bed on the Upper West Side at 5:00am, skedaddled out the door at 5:30am to meet our Uber driver on the dark and sleepy street of a city that supposedly never sleeps. His name was Pedro and he was confused (or perhaps asleep) from the start. First not knowing where to pick us up until I called him to explain what street we were on and then not knowing how to get to LaGuardia - Terminal B. We weren’t too concerned at first because we left with plenty of time to make our first of three flights to our final destination: Flagstaff, Arizona. But after letting Pedro drive haphazardly around the maze of the airport for a little too long, we basically had to help navigate. At first he wouldn’t listen to us when we pointed him in the right direction, but thankfully, once he realized he was just going in circles, he listened but muttering to himself all the while, probably about how embarrassed he was that these two girls just out-Ubered him. Just as we were pulling up to the terminal I received a call from American Airlines saying that our second flight (Boston to Phoenix) was canceled but they put us on another one leaving the next night! This would not suffice. I was ready to throw a fit, but luckily the angry, exhausted lady at the counter got us on a Chicago to Phoenix flight instead, getting us there in time to make our original flight to Flagstaff, which she repeatedly called Flagship. So now between me, Krista and the ticket lady, Flagstaff shall forever be called Flagship. And I suggest you all do the same.

So we checked our one suitcase with toiletries and other assorted items, and hoisted up our backpacks and made our way through security with literally a few minutes to spare (thanks to Pedro, American Airlines and TSA). We boarded a flight to Chicago, on which we could not buy any breakfast which we were so looking forward to. Apparently you can’t buy anything but 3 or 4 crackers on a flight that is “less than 2 hours.” But at least we sat in the exit row which was luxuriously spacious.

At the Chicago airport, we had just enough time to snag a sausage, egg and cheese bagel before boarding the next flight to Phoenix so we wouldn’t starve before our trip really began. At the gate they made us check our backpacks, which made us nervous in case between all these flights our bags somehow got lost. They said it was because there wasn’t enough space in the overhead bins, but that turned out to be a lie as I walked to my seat and passed several perfect spots for our precious cargo. Whatever. At least we didn’t have to carry them anymore.

Once we landed in Phoenix we had a little treat of artisan ice cream. Horchata for Krista, and Peaberry Espresso for me. This may have been a mistake for our stomachs. But for the duration of this trip we often threw caution to the wind in favor of eating whatever the heck we wanted.

We were relieved to find all our bags safely in Flagship, a very tiny airport where the baggage carousel was directly to the right of our gate and in front of the car rental counter. How adorable. We rented a white Hyundai Elantra from the self proclaimed “dad-bodied” Arizonian who also gave us directions to a nearby REI where we bought fuel and more Epic bars (a very delicious meat bar that we can’t get enough of).

Then we pondered which first of many exciting, stomach-wrecking, fast food joints we should visit on this trip. We settled on Carl’s Jr. where we were mistaken for students, received discounts, and evangelized by the cashier. But we all agreed together how “God created life.” After we ate our Famous Star burgers and fries while listening to an entire Natasha Bedingfield CD over the loud speaker, we headed to Sprouts Market to pick up 6 gallons of water, tea, trail mix, apples, bread, peanut butter, more Epic bars of course, and some honey sticks which fell out of the bag in the parking lot. Krista managed to salvage a few for me. Gotta have honey in my tea, even if it is covered in parking lot gravel.

We then drove to the Grand Canyon Inn & Hotel to check in to our tiny and kitschy but quaint room which was marked #72, the Lone Ranger room.

We re-organized our backpacks a bit, and headed over to the restaurant to eat chicken fingers and mozzarella sticks. Another fine choice of sustenance.

I also made Krista take these photos with me near these metal horses and such. We’re in Arizona!

Exhausted, we showered and looked up directions for our next leg of the trip. In the bathroom was the worst bar of soap I have ever come across. It felt like I was using a chewable Tums to wash my body. Better to use the “Desert Breeze” shampoo. Krista liked the Tums soap. Different strokes I guess.

[kcontini]

My Stupid Juice "Cleanse"

I’ve decided to do a 3-day juice cleanse. Actually I decided in 2008 to do a 3-day juice cleanse. And after 2,920 days, give or take, on my to do list, the time is now. Recently I quit my job to pursue acting, so obviously I have ample free time for lallygagging, tv watching (what I like to call “research”) and juicing. The internet has so many options to choose from, but it’s hard to know whether or not any of these are actually going to do anything for me. A local, healthy, juicing type store near my gym offers a bunch of different exciting cleansing programs for different maladies. One for weight loss, one for diabetes, colon, etc. Given my brave (or reckless - you decide) decision to become an actor, it’s probably best not to be throwing what money I do have into the wind. So I’m opting to use their “recipe” for the colon cleanse and buy everything myself. It only lists the ingredients and not how much of each, so I’m sort of making it up as I go. Upon reading the pamphlet, I sadly realized that you can’t just jump in to the deep end of a cleanse. You have to ease in at the shallow end first, eating only fruits, vegetables and raw cashews for a few days before you start. This is difficult when your regular diet mainly consists of cheese and bread and cheese and buckets of olives. Plus, you also have to ease back out. So my 3-day juice cleanse turns into more like a 7-day hell. But we’ll see. Day 1: Easing in Breakfast: 2 scrambled eggs and half an avocado According to the pamphlet, I’m not allowed to have eggs, but whatever. Lunch: a salad consisting of iceberg lettuce, carrots, cucumber, orange bell pepper, with a splash (or several splashes) of white balsamic vinegar. Eating this made me feel angry inside because normally I look forward to lunch time which for me equals big-ole-sandwich time. Snack: nuts and berries You’re not supposed to have sugar, but I’m pretty sure the dried cranberries in this mix were full of that. Oh well. Dinner: 1/2 of a large white sweet potato, spinach, tomatoes, and mushrooms Snack: raw cashews Not as plain or gross as I expected them to be I haven’t even gotten to the juice part and I’m already in the bathroom quite a bit. If you catch my drift. Day 2: More easing in Breakfast: 2 eggs, half an avocado Lunch: more iceberg lettuce, carrots, peppers, tomatoes, and this time with regular balsamic vinegar. Then I threw the other half of the white sweet potato from the night before into the leftover vinegar and ate that. Snack: raw cashews, raw cashews, raw cashews, and an apple I’m starving. Dinner: A pile of spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, and lots of asparagus To hell with worries of smelly pee. Snack: Frozen mango Thanks to Krista for opening my eyes to what a treat this can be. It’s a good thing I’m not working 40 hours a week anymore because I have been in the bathroom very many times today. Day 3: Begin juicing (and drinking a lot of water) 9:00am: About 3 green apples This only made about 8 oz of juice, and I think you need more like 16oz, but it’s a start. And if you’re gonna start a juice cleanse, this is a lovely way to begin. The juice was delicious, and I don’t even like apple juice. Fresh green apples are the way to go. Side note: I feel like my juicer wasn't *fully* juicing so I would take the pulp and run it through a second time to get more out of it. It's just a lot messier and more work to do. But if you're just at home juicing and peeing and watching Better Call Saul, might as well put in a little extra work. 11:00am: 3 green apples, 2 carrots, 1 beet This made closer to 12 oz, and was also delicious, but made my tongue and mouth very red. Also when I cleaned out the juicer, the pulp looked like rainbow cookies. So beautiful. And so disappointing that it wasn't really rainbow cookies. I had to make a run to the grocery store to get more supplies, and I pretty much had to pee the entire time. The list of ingredients for this cleanse should also include diapers. 1:00pm: 3 green apples, 4 celery sticks, 1 beet I was supposed to put ginger in there too but I forgot and I’m okay with that because I sort of hate liquified ginger. This one made 16 oz of juice, and halfway through I’m feeling full, but not satisfied because all I want is a whole bag of chips. 3:00pm: 7 carrots, 1 garlic clove, small piece of ginger, bunch of parsley I was hesitant to put the ginger and the garlic in but I did it anyway, and I’m glad I did because I think it makes it taste a little more like lunch. Who knew a little garlic juice could be so satisfying after only half a day of fruits. Seems like everywhere I look, people are eating delicious items such as Chex Mix and hamburgers. Ugh. 5:45pm: 2 carrots, 1 beet, bunches of both kale and spinach This was alright, but at this point I’m so hungry that I feel so sorry for myself. What did I get myself into? 8:00pm: Hot water, lemon, agave, cayenne pepper I might have sprinkled just a bit too much cayenne, but it was bearable. This was supposed to be alkaline water, agave, cayenne and wheatgrass. But I didn’t know where to get wheatgrass. Tomorrow I might go to that local, healthy, juicing type store and see if they can just juice me up some wheatgrass. Day 4: Rinse and repeat In the bathroom I discovered my poop was looking extra beautiful this morning. A lovely burgundy color from all the beets. Now back to juicing. 9:00am: 4 green apples 11:00am: 3 green apples, 2 carrots, 1 beet 1:00pm: 3 green apples, 4 celery sticks, 1 beet, ginger This time I remembered to add the ginger and it was not that noticeable. So me and liquified ginger can be friends again. You’re not supposed to pre-make these juices because the nutrients evaporate into the clouds if you don’t ingest them right away or some such thing, but I have an audition today, so I will make my next “meal” now and bring it with me. 4:00pm: 7 carrots, 1 garlic clove, small piece of ginger, bunch of parsley I did not feel like drinking this concoction on the bus, so I waited until I got home. 
I forgot I was supposed to meet a friend to chat and discuss the details of her recent engagement. We planned to meet at a diner. This was brutal. I ordered a hot water with lemon and honey (because they didn’t have agave, of course). I was salivating over dishes being delivered all around me, things I don’t normally even order, like matzah ball soup and french onion soup. And burnt hamburgers. God, I can’t wait to eat a hamburger. 8:00pm: 2 carrots, 1 beet, bunches of both kale and spinach I also pre-made this and brought it with me to the diner, but felt like a weirdo to bring it out of my bag, so I drank it in the car ride home. I hated every second of it. This is my least favorite juice. 9:45pm: More hot water with lemon, cayenne, and agave I was too lazy to find any wheatgrass. Day 5: I’m in the home stretch. I can do this! 9:00am: 4 green apples 11:00am: 3 green apples, 2 carrots, 1 beet 1:00pm: 3 green apples, 4 celery sticks, 1 beet, ginger You’re supposed to be moving your bowels, but over the last 2 days that hasn’t happened much, so I was about to set off in search of some Yogi laxative tea, per my mom’s advice. Right as I was getting ready to leave, I had to run to the bathroom. So no need for that tea after all. 5:00pm: 7 carrots, 1 garlic clove, small piece of ginger, bunch of parsley 8:00pm: 2 carrots, 1 beet, bunches of both kale and spinach My juicer might not be high enough quality because there were small pieces of non-liquified kale in here and it made me feel a little bit like vomiting. It also gave me a touch of heartburn. I’m glad I never have to drink this again. 10:00pm: Hot water with lemon, cayenne, and agave Day 6: Hallelujah, back to solid foods Breakfast: 2 scrambled eggs with salt and pepper I had to do some dental hygiene work as a temp at a new office. I was nervous that my stomach would make scary noises in someone’s ear, but it wasn’t too bad. Snack: Nuts and berries Lunch: Half a can of macaroni and bean soup (not delicious), an apple I'm off to Anthony’s house to play Nintendo. Snack: So many glorious Cheez-Its We went to TGIFridays and almost had to live there for how slow the service was. Dinner: Chicken, spinach, mushrooms, squash, tomatoes, mozzarella Glass of wine In Conclusion: I seem to have survived this juice cleanse, but I reckon I won’t be doing it ever again. I don’t feel like it did much for me other than make me feel skinnier which isn’t terrible, but my purpose was to detox and I don’t know that that happened. Some say juice cleanses are a farce and some swear by them, but my takeaway from this whole experience is that I should eat more fruits and vegetables and I may even do a little juicing here and there but not in place of regular meals. And when I become a successful actor and win my first Oscar (like my aunt believes I'm capable of...don't anyone hold their breath) I'll just have my chef take care of my juicing needs.

[kcontini]

Words to live and love by...

[kcontini]

I was honored to write this piece for cosmopolitan.com