Dear Portland,

Now I only got to see your fine city for a week and I spent most of it holed up in a house in NW doing work, so I'm sure I didn't see Portland's finest... but I did get a good sense of the city and here are a few things that I think y'all should know if you don't already:

1.  You're GORGEOUS.  I mean stunning.  I probably nearly crashed about 12 times because the views over the river at sunset from the bridges are incredible.  Seriously.  There should be photo opportunities along the bridges.  I would have loved to have time to just stroll across the footbridges all day err' day.

2.  Upholstery is not just a modern thing you should eschew.  I know antique wooden chairs are cool and all but so is not having your ass hurt constantly.  Just a thought.  But it might save you from fleas, you might say.  I can personally say that sleeping on a wooden bench does not guarantee that you will not be attacked by Portland fleas.

3.  Kudos on the fact that y'all have an AWESOME chic/hipster restaurant on every single corner (and most spaces in between) serving locally sourced superfoods and asian fusions.  We had a bunch of recommendations for places to eat and I don't think we followed any of them because we would just walk in a random direction and pick a place.  Even the "burger joint" we decided on had locally sourced organic free range steak burgers.  Spot on, Portlandia.

4.  Too many single earrings and mullets.  This is not a David Bowie revival tour... it's a city.  Act accordingly.

5.  Stop being such a tease.  All of the mountains look so close and beautiful and ready to be scaled!  But a full day trip?  Please consult with Denver about appropriate mountain distance to your metropolitan area.  I think that that would seriously bump Portland's stock.  Plus... think of all the mountain products you could more readily stock in your hip restaurants.  Not to mention all of the business for the approximately fifty bajillion hiking stores I saw about town.

Please take these comments to heart.  Or don't.  Just keep doing what you're doing.

-Arima Rose

It’s the day before the day before my birthday and can I make you take the trash out for me if I want you to….

… that’s how the song goes, right?

It might be said that I abuse my birthday powers just a teeny tiny bit but I absolutely love birthdays and I’m going to be holding my 19^th birthday party against the world for a long, long time (…with the exception of Kelsey Merlo.  She has done everything she ever needs to for my birthdays for the rest of her life after that one).  For those of you who don’t know… my 19^th birthday party consisted of  a theoretical 150 people for which a lot of “refreshments” and grilling materials were purchased but boiled down to Kelsey Merlo and about three others on a muggy stormy day on my porch and 148 “sorry but we can’t make it at the last minute” messages in my inbox. 

This birthday, however, was fantastic and not even because I was forcing people to celebrate with me left and right.

The week began with me desperately trying to get all of my work done so that I could skip a couple days of work to celebrate.  This was complicated when a report was due at work and the logistics for our Portland IT meeting – which I was in charge of – fell through with regularity throughout the week (hello from PDX baggage claim, by the way).  By Tuesday I was thoroughly ready to give up…

…but then this all happened:

1. My boyfriend cooked me dinner for kicks on Tuesday night… and despite his previous burnt attempts at rice it was really good.  Plus there was birthday cake ice cream as insurance.

2.  I was dragged out on Wednesday night because it was the night before the night before my birthday and I deserved a free beer, damnit.

3.  Thursday was the girliest thing that has ever happened to my life but I got my nails done and Marissa Provost took my request to look like Charlize Theron (or at least her hair) for my birthday very seriously and threw in doing my makeup because she’s the best.  Between that and my bomb birthday dress that I bought a month ago and have been dying to wear, I looked great.  Sorry ‘bout it but let’s not even pretend that anyone believes I’m modest. 

4.  Delicious birthday dinner with my family followed by Freeport Bakery cake with only a moderately rude message on top! :P  Read: I never wanted to move again.

5.  But fortunately I got off my butt because I went out for drinks with friends and at midnight I got a birthday lapdance in a bar from a complete stranger.  It was definitely good that his friends bought me a really nice drink to make up for the trauma.  I think the highlight was when I didn’t know what to do to make him stop so I gave him a high five and then shook his hand. 

6.  Eggs Benedict.

7.  THE CALIFORNIA STATE FAIR.  Red Velvet Funnel Cake.  The Zipper.  Swings.  Hypnotist Show.  Bunnies.  A Cow Born On My Birthday.  Brick O’ Curly Fries. Fireworks.  The Zipper.  SLOTH.  [but seriously we saw this sloth move across his enclosure, suspend by his legs, and NOM on a nectarine.  It was the most adorable thing I have ever seen in my life.  On a scale from one to Kristen Bell I was actually about an 8.5.  I had to leave.]

8. I became a pet owner.  I got a goldfish from Alex and Devin for my birthday.  His name is Morton M.  I am in love with him.  I got him a home with a pirate ship.  We’re going to be best friends forever.

9.  Saturday night we continued the party with karaoke at Hamburger Mary’s (I still refuse to call it Hamburger Patties).  Devin and Alex sang The Boxer while I stood awkwardly in the middle laughing my ass of at the fact that there were literally three or four screens in a row of JUST “Lie la lie lie lie” over and over again. 

10.  In breaks in the festivities I cam home to loads of messages from family and friends that made me smile each and every time.  If I had the time and energy I would message each and every one of you just to tell you how much I appreciate it and how much you mean to me but as I am now in Portland on the last legs of my battery I will have to leave it at a general thank you for now. 

All my love from Portland!

Reflections on the fact that my apartment needs a guest book...

Since I have my own place now, I've been hosting a lot of couch surfers.  When I first changed my status to hosting, requests flooded in.  They have now receded to a much more manageable rate but it still seems as if I always have someone sleeping on my floor.  And I love it.  A few months back I hosted two guys from Germany who were down on their luck hitching from LA to Portland.  It reminded me of all the times Keki and I picked up last minute hosts who completely saved us.  Showing surfers around Sacramento gives me a new appreciation for my home and, let's be real, no one ever complained about a stroll around the capital.  I've hosted people trying to move to Sacramento who needed a home base for interviews.  I've hosted tourists and people on business trips and folks just passing through from the mountains to San Fransisco.

It's made me reflect on my own couchsurfing experiences and realize I'm not nearly as nice of a surfer as I could be.  I mean.  I always tried to cook a little or take my host out for a drink.  But everyone who has stayed with me has really gone above and beyond.  I come back to a clean apartment or a treat in the fridge regularly.  Surfers have taken me out to nice meals and gone to events with me.  They all say they feel it's right because they so appreciate me opening up my home but really I think I get the better deal of all this.  Fun stories, good company, and excuse to get out of the house or have a home cooked meal.  Even though it means that most of my friends are transient, I love having them about.

Being a couchsurf host isn't an obligation (as I used to think it would be)... it's an absolute joy.  Almost more fun than surfing!

I haven't really been able to connect with the CS community in Sacramento yet because the new site format really throws me and I just can't seem to connect with anyone but it's probably only a matter of time... I have to bring some of those Salamanca CS parties to life in California, claro.

And hopefully soon I will also be hosting friends from all over.  Devin comes into town in a few days and there's a possibility of visits from friends in August and more in the Fall.  It's about time y'all started coming to visit from the East (yeah, I'm talking to you, c.williams!).... I'll have my "couch" waiting.

Arima Nesting...

...Is about #3 on the list of titles that would be more accurate for this blog right about now.   I am still in Sacramento if you had not heard.  In fact, I am about to sign another six month lease.  That's right, folks.  I will be living in the same apartment for a year and the same town for well over that.  Consider your minds blown.

So here's what my life has turned into.

I live in a little studio in the heart of midtown Sacramento.  I no longer work three jobs... just two!  Personal record.  I work full time for an organization called COSA (I think the last post was just pre-COSA).  COSA is the Committee on Sustainability Assessment.  We essentially do sustainability assessments of international agricultural certifications (read: I stare at excel spreadsheets all day).  I work from home about 80% of the time and from my boss' home the other 20%.  I'm including Old Soul coffee shop as home for the purposes of this stat.  I never expected to love what I'm doing as much but it's really grown on me.  I'm in the process of balancing scaling up my hours with actually having a life in Sacramento (something I didn't even dream of in high school :P ).

But really.  I have friends.  And, oddly enough, plans for every weekend for the rest of the Summer.  The biggest surprise (no offense mom & dad) but I LOVE living near my family for the first time in a long while.  I can go over there for free food or to watch the game and I can just go hang out with my parents which is really really nice.

It still blows my mind when I run into people I knew when I was little but living this close to South Land Park means eventually someone's going to recognize me.  It's kind of insane to be back in my home town.  Everything's completely new to me but at any point in exploring a new place or activity there will be something that reminds me that this is where I grew up.  I can take walks to the capitol or go to free concerts in Cesar Chavez park or chill at the river.  I forgot how much I love Summers in Sacramento.

Fourth of July (arguably my favorite holiday) and my birthday are coming up and I am taking this time of year to do all the things I love and miss and never thought I would get to do again.  Floating down the American, BBQing at my parents, Davis for fireworks, getting a manicure from Sandy with madre for my birthday, going to Moxi for birthday dinner, getting a neener neener birthday cake from Freeport Bakery, and most importantly GOING TO THE CA STATE FAIR WHICH OPENS ON MY BIRTHDAY.

I know I keep saying I will update here and I am past making promises but I will try my absolute best to not completely neglect it anymore.  Thanks for keeping up with my life even when I start to nest and I will keep y'all apprised of my slightly more mundane goings on in the future.

All my love from Sacramento, CA.

Talk About Life Marching On...

Just in case you hadn't heard... it's 2013.  That means I've been away from this blog for almost five months.

There's been a fair bit of moping, some high points, a lot of freaking out, and even more nothing. Mostly, though, there has been plan after plan.  How to pay off my loans so I can just take off with no responsibility.  How to find a position that might turn into a career that's fulfilling.  How to stay as far away from positions that might turn into a career as possible.  How to get out of the country.  How to make Peace Corps love me again.

And here's what I've come up with so far:

I'm going to somehow pay off as much of my loans as possible (right now that means working for the women's active section of Nordstrom at Arden Fair Mall) and then take off come late April/early May for a solo hike of approximately 2/3-3/4 of the Pacific Crest Trail.
Yes, you've read right and no this does not solve any of my life/career crises.

After?

Well after the PCT there are a million plans still waiting for me.  Maybe back to Israel for Israel Corps, maybe get up the courage to turn in that Fulbright Application, maybe move to West Africa to learn about rice production, maybe apply to be a Kiva fellow, maybe take off to Patagonia or Cuba... maybe do any number of insane/marginally productive things.  All are contingent on a million and one things falling into place and are really too much for me to think about on days like today.

But what I do know is that I have inexplicably signed myself up for an approximately 2000 mile hike this summer alone for very little reason and it's become really important for me that it happen and that I finally go through with one of my genuinely stupid plans.

So I've been working on it and I have a rough plan (which I can post if anyone is super duper curious).  Start and end dates.  Most likely resupply and water points.  Elevations.  Daily mileage.  Chances are that 95% of this is going to get thrown out on the trail but working on it and talking to people on the PCT trail forums makes me feel so much less alone in Sacramento. So much less stuck.  So wish me luck on the trail!  I'll need it!

A bit about the blog:  I know I'm not abroad anymore so my blog isn't particularly aptly named on the surface but heck if the US doesn't seem more foreign to me now than anywhere else I've been recently.  I still feel as if I'm traveling or just passing through.  And I really can't bear deleting the old posts or changing to an America-centric blog.  So perhaps the title and description will change with time but the blog is going to stay.  I promise I won't drop off of the grid anymore and will update everyone on my life from now on.

Sorry for the extreme radio silence!

All my love from Sacramento!

Arima Not-So-Abroad

For all of you who have been living in a yurt for the past three weeks, I'm back in the U.S.  Sorry for the long long wait for this more domestic update but it's been a real shock to the system.

I wish I could detail all of the amazing times I've had this week but it would probably be the millionth level of boring unless you were there so here are the highlights:

I watched Caitlin flank in Newark, snagged a Jersey area code for my new number, broke down in a bus on the way to Manassas, discovered the beer and candy bar I left myself on my truck seat as a present for when I picked it up, cooked falafel for some of uncwrfc in chapel hill, destroyed Daniel's kitchen in chapel hill, saw Meredith Carter's weird bloated up appendicitis stomach, went to the Speakeasy festival in Atlanta, ate cookie dough with Kelsey Merlo and Michelle Wilco, pit stopped at the top of the St. Louis Arch, ate BBQ and drank a local brew at my dad's (and my) favorite Kansas City BBQ place, met up with Devin and Ruth in Denver, saw tour de fat, climbed to royal arch with David Mulcahy, ate an enormous (and delicious) brunch courtesy of my cousin taylor, saw Adam Lane smile at an old woman in Rocky Mountain National Park, saw some Pika, froze, went to dinner with my Aunt Linda and Uncle Paul in a rockin' tiny Colorado town, got mistaken for an irresponsible mother in Raton, New Mexico, saw loads of family (and surprise family home movies) in El Paso, got a fabulous new hair cut and color from my talented cousin Felicia, had dinner with Roro (and his best brahs), went to Mexico, wandered down the beach in San Diego, learned how to wakeboard and fish with my cousin Shelly (& co.), and had my own mini Rosh Hashanah celebration in a Starbucks in La Jolla.

It's been quite a ride.

Now with all of these fantastic things happening all around me all the time, one would think that it's been a snap coming back to the states.  But in the back of my mind, I've been dwelling on the thought that I've graduated and am going back to my home town with no job to bum around.  Now there's no shame in that.  None at all.  But tell that to the nagging feeling in the back of my brain.

See, there's that stereotype in the US of the kid that goes home not knowing what they're doing with their life after high school or college and 15 years later they're still living in their parents basement working their 5th minimum wage job in as many months.  It never works quite like that though does it?  Chances are you just had a few hard knocks.  You're staying at home to save money so you can be more stable in the near future.  You want to save for school or a car or a home.  You're doing the smart responsible thing but ...

... we're taught to look feel a little ashamed of  it.  Like going home means permanent defeat.

So coming back has been sad.  It's been defeating.  It's been hard.  But not for any real reasons.  Mostly because I'm in my head.

And what better time to cast off all of these misconceptions and chart a new course than Rosh Hashanah?  It's time to figure out what I've done in the past year and try to imagine myself in the coming year.  It's time to sort out concrete steps to achieve those goals and to really carry the blessings I've been given in the past year into the new one.

Luckily, I will still have the love and support of the same network that has ferried me across America in the coming year and that's about all I need.

Sacramento bound.  Currently in San Diego.

The Last Days are Always the Best Days

I don't know whether to think that that's true because you appreciate them more or maybe it's supposed to be a nice send off but what it ends up being is torture.  The only part of traveling I'm horrible at is saying goodbye.  While this time I'm not in Heathrow crying because there are too many wazungu around me, it's still pretty hard and has only been made harder by the fantastic last five days that I have had.

DAY 1 (Sunday... aka the beginning of the end): So I bought the ticket Saturday night and the cheapest flight I could get left Friday at 05h25.  Which meant that I was not going to waste another day in Netanya.  Honestly, I wasn't a huge fan.  It wasn't necessarily the farms fault.  It was just a really crowded area but I was still completely isolated from everything.  There was no community to speak of.  So I just ended up getting really really lonely which probably made it a lot easier to book a flight home.  Anyways, I had recently been whining to Tal (whose base is in Haifa) about how everything was going wrong and even though I had tried a couple of times, I had yet to actually make it up to Haifa to complain in person.  So that became my first stop.

I think the first night I ended up spending a total of 20 minutes in my hostel.  I checked in, dropped my things and ran to the beach.  Until it was too dark to see and then went to the German Colony to see the Bahai Gardens at night.  See my photos below for reference.  Suffice to say it was gorgeous and incredibly relaxing.  In between wandering about and eating really mediocre fast food (my only real complaint about Haifa is that all of the restaurants close by like 18h00), I was in touch with Tal who said that he could get off base after work that evening until 7h30.

So at 23h00 theres not much left to do but hit bars and wander about the city right?  Well partly.  First we went to a bar where the bartender publicly outed what a lightweight I am by making me refuse a shot.  So that was good for a solid half hour of entertainment for everyone who wasn't me.  But then when that bar closed, it seemed like there was nothing left to do but call it a night.  Except that Tal and I are creative and decided that a late night train trip to Hof HaCarmel to hang out at the beach sounded like a splendid idea.

At 7h00 I got back to my hostel and had to explain to them that I hadn't slept that night because I had decided sober to sleep on the beach and therefore would be too tired to check out by 11h00 ... and would therefore just have to stay another night.  Which leads to ...

DAY 2 (Monday aka denial day): In which I slept until noon and then spent a solid 8 hours lazing in the sun listening to music, denying reality, and being hit on by creepy men.  The lounging was interrupted only be frequent dips in the ocean.  Not much more to say except that there was also a distinct lack of food on denial day.

 DAY 3 (Tuesday aka my triumphant return to the Arava):  And of course also easily identified as Slavik day.  I made my way to Be'er Sheva with only a few misunderstanding that required police to sort out and arrived by early afternoon.  To be met by Slavik! Who is out of the IDF! Freedom!  And he used that ample freedom to help me while away a few great hours in Be'er Sheva.

First order of business: Felafel.  Because at that point I was starving from two days of nonexistant Haifa food.

Second order of business: spending several hours trying to tie flies onto leashes.  Unfortunately, my hair is no longer long enough to use as a leash so we ended up using a thread with mixed results.  Plus, Slavik taught me his time tested and hard earned foolproof fly killing technique.  I suppose compulsory military service really is good for something!  I hear they get lots of free t shirts in the army too so I suppose there's also that.  But anyways.

Third order of business: going bowling.  Because what else is there to do in Be'er Sheva? Luckily I'm a bowling pro.  But really I'm awful.  The only times I did fairly well was when Slavik and I figured out how to send two balls down the lane in one turn.  The fourth order of business was going to be air hockey but my performance was so lackluster as to not really be worth going into detail.  But I suppose that happened.

After parting with Slavik at the bus depot (and nearly getting backed over by a semi truck due to the ridiculous construction traffic near the bus/train stations), I made it to Ir Ovot without a hitch (pun intended).  Slowly beginning to recognize familiar wadis and mountains as they passed my bus window made it feel like coming home.  This was a feeling that was compounded when I walked into Ruth's house to be greeted by girls running at me from every direction to give me a hug.

If laughing at my bad Hebrew with Ruth's sisters and playing jungle speed wasn't enough, it was also the first night the pub at the dairy was open.  I never knew there were that many young people in the area!  I mean, a lot of them were just passing through but still!  It was amazing to be sitting out under the stars on a cool night with loads of interesting people.  Heavenly.

DAY 4 (Wednesday aka nostalgia day):  This was like living all of the best memories from the Arava over again on a loop.  I played rummikub and jungle speed with the family and had time to journal.  I spent the night in my hammock on their porch and woke up for the gorgeous sunrises.  I planned out how to meet up with Ruth in Colorado.  At sunset, Avigajil and Orijah and I literally ran up Ari's mountain chasing the sunset.  You can see how worth it that mad dash was below.  Jehonathan even dropped by to loan me his laptop so I could steal a bunch of Israeli music before I left.  It was horribly sad at the end of the day as one by one Ruth's family members slowly drifted to bed, hugging me and saying goodbye as they did.

DAY 5 (Thursday aka the last hurrah):  Ruth had to go to Be'er Sheva in the morning and so we both caught a ride with her neighbor.  As I was explaining my quandry to them both (they wouldn't let me into the Kotel with my huge bag... let alone my leatherman) it was suggested that I just go to the airport, check in for my flight, check my bags, and then go to Jerusalem.  It was so crazy it just might have worked except that it didn't.  Instead, I discovered yet another reason to love Ben Gurion Airport (other than the orchard outside and free wifi)... they have a baggage storage center.  You can leave your bags there any time until 20h00 (at which point security picks them up and you get in really big trouble).  But at this point it was 11h30 and it would take at least 1.5 hours by bus to get to Jerusalem (darn transfers and expensive sheruts).

The bust nearly broke down/ there was nearly a riot when the air conditioning went out on a 38-40 C day but somehow we made it to Jerusalem central bus station.  Foolishly thinking it would be fun, I walked all the way to the old city and wasn't even rewarded with one of those divine cream puff things from the market because he wasn't making them today.  Sad.

Anyways, a funny thing happened on the way to the Kotel.  But really.  I got lost (which is difficult enough because the old city is really tiny and pretty much every road from Jaffa gate leads to the Kotel).  But the funny thing was that when I stopped to ask for directions I was chatted up by these nut vendors (like hot caramel almonds... stop that).  They invited me to stay for free nuts (stop it...) but I said I was really just in Jerusalem to go to the Kotel one last time.  And then I was on my way.

Not so funny you say? Well the real funny thing was that I got lost again on the way back and ended up at their second location.  One of the guys from the first stand had moved to the new one and called "Hey pretty lady" which I automatically respond to of course.... since that's what everyone pretty much calls me.  He then asked if I had made it to the Kotel and the rest of the conversation went as follows (oh yeah... his name turned out to be Ben)

Ben: did you make it to the Kotel?
Me:  Yes... eventually
Ben: Well did you pray?
Me: What else do you think I was doing there for the past hour or two?
Ben: Well did you leave a note in the wall with a prayer?
Me: Uh yeah... of course.
Ben: Do you think if I went to the Kotel right now and prayed really hard I would come back with a note with your number on it?  [gotta give the guy points, right?]
Me:  hahahaha you might but my Israeli number will only work for the next 5 hours or so... I'm leaving the country kind of unexpectedly.
Ben: well then we have to hurry [grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the Kotel]
Me: haha joking aside, I really should be heading back to the bus station
Ben: Well surely you could spare a half hour to drink a glass of wine with me
Me:  maybe the time but probably not the money...

And then he bought a bottle of wine and we sat around the old city drinking wine and eating caramel almonds.  Because that happens to normal people on normal days.  A quick stop to grab a colossal avocado and some bread and I was headed back to the airport and that's where I am now...

...practically in tears at the prospect of leaving thanks to the best last five days ever.

Until next time, Israel.