48 Hours in Amsterdam

I gave up some of the time I would have spent biking around the tulip fields of the Netherlands in order to visit Reykjavik, which I don’t regret. I’m glad, though, that I made time to see Amsterdam, despite some original hesitance.

How Long: I arrived late in the evening on the 10^th of July and left on an overnight bus to Nuremburg late in the evening on the 12^th of July.

Overall Impressions: I had an image in my head of Amsterdam and what I means to be a tourist there. Certainly, all of the things I imagined are happening and it’s not hard to find brown coffee shops, the red light district and drunk, often costumed American and British men all around. But you can also lose yourself over and over again wandering in the winding streets around the canals, enjoy delicious food and coffee and soak in the ambiance of this cosmopolitan city.

I can see why it has always drawn in outcasts and wanderers – by allowing anyone to practice their religions and cultural practices even back in the 16th and 17th century when this was really not possibly in Europe, by being the home to so many artists and merchants, and by never really having a monarch until recently. You can feel something in the air and culture of the city that is opened and accepting to a live and let live, fun loving style of life.

I may not have created the most common Amsterdam trip, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

What I did: I wandered. Really and truly, this is mostly what I spent my time doing. Each street is different, and each house its’ own. I wandered into farmers markets and bought some fresh fruit and I stopped every few hours for a cup of coffee or some food, to rest my feet and write a bit, then I kept walking. I could really feel some new callouses forming on my feet by the end of the second day. My hosts did recommend the canal tour – though touristy, it is a whole different perspective on the city. I didn’t end up doing it, but I considered this.

The kind of umimpressive City Hall and Royal Quarters

I stopped into the current exhibit within the church in the Dam (center square of town), hoping to find something a little like Westminster Abbey. And I suppose it was a little like that, but not nearly as gaudy and full of splendor and grave stones as I may have liked. I did learn a lot about the royalty of The Netherlands (a monarchy only going back only some six or seven generations), as well as the change from Catholicism to Lutheranism in Amsterdam. The church used to be painted and adorned on every wall, now it is a plain white, and many of the religious statues around town or in other churches were destroyed at the time the Catholic priests and nuns were expelled. I also visited the Amsterdam Museum, which I enjoyed as a historical look into the city and country. 

I wanted to go to the Anne Frank House, but the line was hours long and with only 48 in town, I didn’t want to waste my time (you can buy tickets online but when I looked a few weeks in advance they were sold out for my particular days). There are also some fantastic museums devoted to amazing local artwork, but I tend to favor history (dare I say narrative story, surprise, surprise?) over art, so there I went. I also think the Jewish historical museum would have been interesting, but I did not have much time when I was in the Jewish quarter.

Where I stayed: I decided to forego the hostel experience – certain to be full of a particular type of tourist, I imagined – in Amsterdam and couchsurfed with a fantastic couple, Samantha and Jeop and their three lively dogs. Both from The Netherlands, they have also lived in the United States for about 9 months. 

Samantha studied history and Jeop has done enough work in the United States in his line of internet security that he sounds like a Texan when he speaks English. They were so welcoming and answered every question I had about the past and present of The Netherlands – which were many, it turns out.

I stayed up and watched TV with Samantha on Friday night and caught a show made by a Dutch man who is married to an American woman called “My America” in which he discusses things he’s learning about the United States from a European perspective. I happened to catch the show about government and elections (super pacs, benefactors giving hundreds of thousands of dollars for a photo with the president, you know the tales) and man, was that interesting to watch with Samantha, even though she had lived in the US and assured me all politics is the same around the world.

Along with a million suggestions for how to spend my time and a home cooked dinner before I left for my overnight train to Germany, the experience of staying in someone’s home and really developing a bit of a relationship is a very good one.

What I ate: Samantha and Jeop took me to the “best fries in Amsterdam” which I would have no idea how to tell anyone else to get to. We drove across many bridges, near the main river. Near the public beaches there was a little shack on the side of the road with all things fried and delicious. The fries were certainly good and drenched in mayo along with plenty of fixings if you wanted them. I also ate a croquette, which Jeop described as “80% butter and some meat”. It was deep-fried, breaded and fantastic. Basically, if we had been really drunk (or, I mean, it’s Amsterdam, so stoned), these two dishes would have been great, but sober they were good too.

Samantha suggested that I visit Winkle, a lunch café near the Anne Frank House for a piece of the best apple pie in The Netherlands. With thick whipped cream and a latte, it was worth a stop.

Total Costs: I don’t feel so broke after Amsterdam, especially since I did not pay for lodging. It’s still a major city, so meals and coffee and beer are not particularly cheap, but more in line with what I imagined. Being in the Euro zone where I can more easily add costs to the dollar is good too.

What I wish I known: Amsterdam aligned and met all my hopes very well, I must admit. If I had more time (maybe I should rename this section “if I had more time here”) I would have enjoyed seeing more of the country, renting a bike and visiting Rotterdam the Hague and villages in the countryside, or seeing the farther reaches of Amsterdam by bike, though I walked very far each day as it was. 

How many photos of canals and bikes and old buildings
can I post before I become redundant? It certainly wasn't redundant to walk around!

60 hours in Reykjavik, Iceland

I’ve decided that I’m going to do two different kinds of blog posts – some that are more of my thoughts and the details about Katy Cashman (like this one from the other day), and some that are descriptions of what I did and what I would suggest to other travelers, city by city. If there are every any more things you might be interested in me writing about or questions about my traveling and planning that you have, reader – let me know! I’d love to participate in as much of a conversation as I can here!

So, with that being said, here is my description of Iceland, which I visited July 8-10^th 2014.

How Long? I was in Iceland for 2.5 full days, arriving early in the morning on Tuesday and leaving around 4:30 on Thursday.

Overall Impressions: Iceland was great! I originally bought a ticket through Icelandair which had 10 hour layover in Reykjavik, and I thought I’d be able to pop in and see the city. Then I learned that in order to encourage tourism, Icelandair allows you to extend your layover in Iceland for no extra cost! I’m so glad I was able to get out and see more of this country.

See more at the end about what I wish I’d known and done differently, but I hope I go back someday – with warmer clothes and a slightly more grand adventure plan.

It’s easy to be a tourist here: everyone speaks English, transport and the capital city are easy to manage and the natural beauty of the island is simply staggering – even as you are dropping down below the clouds on the airplane you can tell the place is otherworldly. Just the stuff great sagas featuring trolls, Vikings and family legacies which date back 1,000 years are made of.

What I did: I gave myself a full day to wander the city of Reykjavik, which I easily accomplished, even jetlagged and exhausted. I actually ended up going back and forth across the city a few times, just to fill time. There are great places to walk along the harbor and a few hills in the city, but I found it very straightforward and easy to navigate, besides the ridiculous street names in Icelandic, which I couldn’t even begin to try to understand. 

Street signs of Reykjavik

In the saga museum

I visited two museums in Reykjavik. The Reykjavik 871 +/-2 Museum was a well-executed mix of technology and archeology, small but engrossing. Underground and surrounding an excavated long house from the original farmstead where the city now stands (reputed to be the home of the first man to make a permanent home on the island), there are a lot of archeological details and historical information about the earliest settlers here. The Saga Museum sounded totally hokey to me, but I ended up going in and boy, was I wrong. It’s like Madame Tussauds, but the wax figures tell the stories of the ancient sagas of the land. You get a headset and the stories are told to you with the sounds of early life – from sheep braying, to blacksmiths hammers, to blood-curdling screams. Yes, I’m an oral history nut, and this was a really great way to tell the stories.I also saw the Icelandic Phallological Society Museum (yes – that is what it sounds like it is) but didn’t bother.

The second day I took a Golden Circle tour – the day-trip from Reykjavik from which you can explore the top three tourist locations in the southwestern corner of the island. I toured with Iceland Excursions, a well-oiled machine from which one can do everything in the country: get from the airport to the city/Blue Lagoon and back, take many kinds of day trips and even some longer excursions. I did the full day “Classic” Golden Circle tour and probably could have been fine with a half day. Both tours stop at the three major sites: Gulfloss, Thingvellir National Park and Geysir. The full day tour also stopped at a church where the old religious center of Iceland has stood since the adoption of Christianity (but now there’s not much there but a big Lutheran church) and a geothermal power plant. The power plant included a tour, the cost of which was not in the day trip and geology isn’t the most interesting to me, so I passed. From what I can tell, all half day tours still visit the three important sites, without the stuff I didn’t end up loving as much.

Of the three, I found the National Park the most interesting. This is the place the original settlers of Iceland decided to create the first ever democratic state in the world, where the chieftains of all the regions across the country would meet for two weeks each summer and the law reader would recite the laws of the land, a judicial group would decide the outcome of disputes and people would trade and intermingle. This is also the place where two continental plates meet and you get the chance to walk through the gorge between the two, opening by a few centimeters each year. Gulfloss is a spectacular waterfall and Geysir is a thermal pool (the original geyser, actually) which I hate to admit failed to impress after living in Yellowstone National Park (sorry, Iceland.)

Thingvellir National Park, Iceland

The Blue Lagoon

On the final day I went to the Blue Lagoon before the airport. If you are just swinging through Iceland and have more then 4-5 hours for a layover, you can absolutely make it here, and they make it very easy, with luggage storage and towel rental, etc. The spa is amazing and though I only spent an hour and a half here, I can easily see a whole day being passed, drinking beer in the milky-blue water, getting a massage and eating a good meal. For the cost of admission, you get a locker, access to the pools and exfoliating mud facials to put on as you dip around. The day I was there it was in the upper 40s, cloudy and lightly raining, and beyond the lava rocks covered in moss everywhere and the power plant steaming behind you, it’s totally bizarre to be swimming in hot-tub warm water surrounded by lifeguards in parkas!

Where I stayed: I typically use hostelworld.com to determine where I stay because of the easy information they display and the up-to-date rating system they employ. In Reykjavik I stayed at Hlemmur Square in a 12-bed dorm which was one of the more comfortable in recent memory. Very nice facilities and though they have a lot of rooms, there is more than one kitchen and lounge for guest use, a bar and TV room downstairs, personal storage in each room and the shades in the bedrooms are dark enough that all nighttime sunshine does not keep you awake.

What I ate: Now, I’m not a foodie and I don’t exactly seek out amazing cuisine, but I do have an insanely sensitive stomach. I figure I’ll throw out anything I ate that is worth noting.

I had a breakfast at a little restaurant called the Laundromat in the City Center and really enjoyed the vibe, as well as the food (can’t go wrong with eggs, toast and a glass of orange juice). Nothing else I ate was worth mentioning in incredibly unique other than a great lamb stew, apparently a traditional dish. My impression was whatever you want in Reykjavik – burgers, fish, pizza, Vietnamese, Viking fare – you’ll find it in at least one or more places. You can also eat shark, whale and horse, but none of those sounded interesting to me in the least.

Total Costs: Iceland is EXPENSIVE, and you always feel like you’re paying an arm and a leg because 1,000 króna are equal to just under 10 USD. I anticipated this would be one of the most expensive parts of my trip, and I sure hope it was – I’ll be broke a lot sooner than I thought if I need to pay this much everywhere!!

Meals were at least $10 (even for something simple like cereal for breakfast) and could get much higher. Coffee was always $3-4. Beer was around $5 at happy hour and $8-10 normally.

Lodging was about $45 a night (very high for a dorm room in a hostel!)

Museums were at least $10 as well.

At Gulfloss, on the Golden Circle Tour

What I wish I known: I just so wish Iceland had not been a last-minute extension of a layover, but at the same time, if/when I come back I want to do it right, which would include an entirely different kind of trip for me. I was cold nearly every time I went outside (I have a fleece and a rain coat, but no long underwear or sweaters since I am mostly in the Mediterranean during this trip) and though Reykjavik is cool and the Gold Circle tour interesting, this is so clearly a playground for outdoors adventure traveling, I was itching to get out and do some biking, hiking, horseback riding… something!

Next time I’ll be only coming here, or maybe continuing on to more cool-weather adventuring in the Nordic countries, and I’ll book a horseback riding tour for a few days, or plan a backpacking trip into the countryside. Hanging in Reykjavik and visiting such well-known tourist traps was just not enough. I say, if you are coming here, really come here and experience these amazing landscapes and outdoors opportunities.

It's no Old Faithful, but a geyser is still a geyser!

Journal Entry - Reykjavik Iceland

July 8^th 2014

I don’t know what it is I’m looking for. I didn’t know until this moment, eating fried eggs and tomatoes on the first morning of this adventure, that I ever thought there was something to be looking for. I’ve always been following my gut and knowing I’ll pull it all together in the end.

But, in the midst of the exhaustion of heavy limbs and a sour stomach, I just realized that I’m waiting for new, more clear or exciting sense of myself or a grand discovery of the true meaning of life to come and crash upon me. I’m waiting and of course, because these things are much more subtle, there is nothing but my aching belly.

Earlier this week, when the reality of all of this started to materialize, I looked up at my mom from across the room, my gut ice and realized that I have no idea what I’m doing.

“I know,” she said. “You’re a crazy person.”

And I laughed but I was shaking my head in disbelief. I think that I may be, in fact, a crazy person.

I did really good with the stress levels of all of this until about an hour before I had to be at the Minneapolis Saint Paul Airport. While Emelia and I watched TV to pass the last few hours before I had to go, I felt real panic, the stuff I’d been anticipating a while now. At the airport, Emelia promised to pick me up again in 6-7 months, hugged me tight and said “you are the bravest woman I know.”

I wiped tears from my eyes – yet another leaving I’ve laid down on my heart – and didn’t feel brave, but perhaps more correctly I felt pulled in no uncertain terms. There should always be fear in following through with goals and dreams.

As I eat my breakfast and wait for grandeur, I wonder and grasp at very little. I need to allow a new pace into my life, to feel good about quiet mornings with a book and coffee and pen and paper. These are goals worth achieving.

The people of Iceland are a calm, steady and direct folk, seemingly accepting and prepared for all. They speak softly and slowly. English sounds dull in their mouths – so used to speaking in an ancient, mystical language. From what I can tell, they are a no-nonsense people that won’t be much offended by you or take the time to break you out of your shell if you are not one of them. They are tattooed and pierced, their skin pale and hair red and blonde.

I recognize something here, something about the way northerners experience the world. A determination and resistance to bothering with the little things. I read that Icelanders are among the most optimistic in the world and that their national phrase should be something that translates to "Eh. It'll all work out." I’ve been told they make it a practice to only allow their babies to nap outside, unless there is hurricane-like weather, in order to build the baby’s stamina. With just a touch more than 300,000 people on the entire island and so many shared sagas of ancestry, they have apps so that you can be sure the person you are dating isn’t so closely related to you your children are at risk of developing genetic diseases (note it’s not expected you won’t be related to your spouse).

The only city here is quiet, feeling like a small town and lacking all of the opulence of what I’ve come to expect from European cities. Even the main cathedral in town is basic and blocky – though it is Lutheran and being from Minnesota I understand this. Reykjavik is a hilly, colorful fishing town filled with music-loving punks who apparently know how to party pretty hard, though I’m too jetlagged to really do much in the un-ending nights. It’s modern and quaint all at once. Feels like a place one can actually live, even though it’s only 55ish and cloudy in the summer. 

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Help fund my artistic journey through Northern Ireland where I will be researching and finishing my book, working title Dear Bird for 3-4 months. Learn more about my campaign and donate here. Thank you!

The Great California Escape: Road Trip

No one seems to believe me when I tell them I love road trips. 

But I really, really love driving all day long, singing, listening to podcasts and truly enjoying the quiet hum of the road, especially when I get to do it alone.

There seem to be few times in my life when my introversion really gets to come out; in the last few years especially I’ve grown into what may appear to be an extrovert, but every once in a while I need to draw shades in around my head and let my heart breathe a little. I’ve found that driving – not Los Angeles-traffic -driving, but quiet, opened road coasting – is one of the most calming and meditative experiences I can give myself.

Me and my trusty car near the Great Salt Lake, Utah

There is also something to be said about really seeing and feeling the entire country go by. To watch the desolate, brown hills of Nevada fall away to greenery and snow-covered mountains in Utah, then to feel the air change from the green rolling hills of Wyoming as you near the fields of corn in the humidity of a Midwestern rain storm. 

If I really think about the act of flying, there is something strangely inhuman about going up into the atmosphere and rising so high above the land that you don’t get to actually experience distance or time zones changing around you...But I’m getting a little philosophical here.

Suffice to say that I had a great time driving across the country, singing my heart out to myself, listening to podcasts and visiting with old friends. It was cathartic in a good way to head back home, carrying everything I own right now and visiting women who have known my since long before I moved to California. I camped alone just outside of Salt Lake City the first night, enjoying the quiet chilly air, hiked through the Wyoming hills after the rain with Marta, ate ice cream in Rapid City with Kirsten and drank wine with my grandma in southern Minnesota. I waslucky be a bridesmaid in my college friend and European adventure partner Megan’s wedding in Manitwoc, Wisconsin. Wed in the back yard of her parent’s lake home on a beautiful day ending in fireworks and dancing all night, I had a great time putting some of my event support skills to work for a dear friend.

The last day was the hardest – after the stress of the wedding weekend the final 5 hours to my parent’s house were not easy. 

The first time I drove into Minnesota, on I-90 at the south-western-most corner of the state, I had a moment of panic. Looking at the cornfields and windmills all over the road, I wondered why I would leave a life in Los Angeles for this. I kept reminding myself of the certainty, the peace, the joy I had felt when thinking about coming home, but all that farmland brought back that feeling in my gut, the desire to get away, to change my surroundings and to be the one who got out of Two Harbors.

Coming across the bridge into Duluth Minnesota, seeing the high green hills of the city rise up and the lake churn, swollen with spring run-off below me, I knew for sure: This is the best place for me.

Of course I was only home 7 days before I left again. And after going on and on about how lovely car trips are, I took an airplane this time (I’m not sure a boat would leave me feeling so settled and peaceful as the car, given my nausea). It seems like every 6 months I pop into Duluth and Minneapolis for about a week' so being home for this time felt no different and I wasn't able to give anyone an interesting answer to the question “how are you feeling about the trip!?” 

Once I put my foot on the gas in Pasadena, wiping tears from my eyes and waving goodbye to my roommates, the journey began and since then things have been shifting, peeling in and out. And it feels great.

When it’s all done and I can reflect on the whole journey, I’ll tell you my best estimate of what it all meant.

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Help fund my artistic journey through Northern Ireland where I will be researching and finishing my book, working title Dear Bird for 3-4 months. Learn more about my campaign and donate here. Thank you!

Just One of The Many: Leaving Los Angeles

I've driven out of this city many a'time. I've learned the best times of day and night to slip out between the hordes of traffic. I know where to expect the 101 to get really bad, then loosen up again. I've learned the curves of the Grapevine. 

I love leaving this city, actually.

If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times: every time I get north of Ventura I question all my life decisions. I love seeing parts of California beyond Los Angeles. One of the things that has kept me in this city is the variety and relative closeness of a long list of great ways to spend a weekend or a day off. 

This city draws in so many. I never thought I'd be one of them, but I stand today, fully willing to admit my wrongness - that I love this place in a surprising way. 

I didn't think of myself as one of the many coming to LA - one of a horde of transient dreamers - when I arrived. I thought I came for a higher, shorter-term purpose. I knew that I wouldn't make it big here. My face wasn't going to be on any billboards above Hollywood Blvd. There are so many here who have slipped in from elsewhere, found a niche in a neighborhood and flash their dreams to one another, passing headshots and screenplays back and forth. I have known and loved many of them. 

I can even see now that I have been one of them, in my own way.

And just like so many of them, I too will leave. So many of us that came here with other plans board airplanes or drive our cars back out, blessed for all that we have been given here, and blessed to be leaving in equal measure. We will laugh with our friends and family back home as they call us "Hollywood"; as they ask, cautiously, if we used to see celebrities on a regular basis and if everyone rides rollerblades in bikinis around town (the answer is, yes, in some parts of town, both of these things can be true). We will have to contend with all of the things people who have not lived here think about this city, about the lives we've been living. All of the truths and untruths about Los Angeles, we will have to answer to them without taking it too personally.

This city won't remember me. As far as these highways know, I'm just another dreamer, not making her mark in a way worth putting name on the ground. I didn't ask this city to remember me; I only came, loved deeply and dug my fingers into this dry soil while I was meant to be here. The simple things, really. 

And now I'm another girl on her way home. 

I'm driving out of the city one last time. There will be no friends laughing in the backseat, just me and the songs we've all sung together before. The morning of the longest day of the year, I'll be taking the 15 towards Las Vegas, past Zion, past the land I've driven through before. I'll rejoin roads I know in Wyoming, and I have friends whom I can stay with along the way home. Women who I have known longer than this city, who will take me in and remind me of who I was - who I'm trying to dig back out of the hardened lines of my personality.

I'm going home - once again at the right place at the right time. This is my path.  This coming as well as this going has all been blessed. I am so certain of this. 

I am going back to where I started - another completion of the many circles that swing out from that home in the forest my Mama and Papa built - the sacred center of my little life.

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Help fund my artistic journey through Northern Ireland where I will be researching and finishing my book, working title Dear Bird for 3-4 months. Learn more about my campaign and donate here. Thank you!

California Bucket List

It's only fair, as I'm beginning to fondly remember all the great things about my three years living in Los Angeles, to pay a little homage to California with a reverse bucket list and a bit of a photo-dump. 

Following are the things which I loved the most, wanted to do the most, will remember best and surprised me for some reason. If you're really feeling like getting into the mood, play this song in the background (it's been on repeat in my car for the last 2 months or so).

So, basically in chronological order... kind of...

The Glendale Girls
This photo was (I believe) the second night I spent in Los Angeles and the first with the three women whom I'd live with for the remainder of the year in the Episcopal Urban Intern Program. Christina, Sarah Hannah and I will all readily admit that we probably wouldn't have become close if we'd just met out in the world, but living together taught us all a lot, and I love each of these women dearly.

EUIP Retreats in Santa Barbara
Because of the retreats at quiet monasteries built into the program I participated in my first year in LA, I have decided that going to a beautiful place, relaxing and processing what is happening around you should be required of everyone, three times a year. And paid work days should also be provided for this purpose.

Fancy Hollywood things like movie openings for your friend's films and getting to hold an Oscar

Frozen Bananas in Newport Beach

For all the other Arrested Development fans out there.

Friends In Deed

The organization I ran the Food Pantry for my first year in town. I was truly lucky to get this amazing internship experience, to work with great coworkers and clients, then to be offered a spot on the Board of Directors. This organization does so much for the Pasadena community, and I'm so glad I could learn with and from them. I chaired the Fall Fundraising event in 2013, and presented the award to our honorees (photo). 

Whale Watching

I was really lucky to see whales two of the times I went out, as well as once from the shore in Malibu. They are nearly impossible to snap a picture of, not to mention I prefer to enjoy the awe of seeing an animal that majestic in the wild, but I saw finbacks, grey and orca whales during my times out in the Channel Islands. Also, more dolphins than you can imagine, seals and plenty of birds.

Joshua Tree and Death Valley National Parks

The desert is not my favorite place. I come home feeling parched down to my soul, but being in landscapes that are so vividly not our own is important, and I'm glad to have gone.

Joshua Tree National Park, April 2013

Death Valley National Park, March 2012

The Grand Canyon
Labor Day 2012 was spent here. It was hot, the hiking was tough, the canyon is spectacular.

Heading North towards San Francisco
God, do I love this city. Every time I got north of Ventura I questioned all of my life decisions. Going to Monterrey, Carmel, Palo Alto and Napa should also be included here. I also was able to get to Portland and Seattle easily since I'm already on the west coast, and took advantage of those place as well.

Wine Tasting Weekends in Paso Robles

One of my favorite discoveries about myself and California is how much I love wine and wine tasting in the laid back town of Paso Robles, exactly half way between LA and San Francisco. The wine is good, the people are easy to talk to and the oak trees are spread throughout the rolling hills of the vineyards. Cambira, about a half hour away, is my favorite little town in the world, right on the coast.

Tide poolin' like masters!

My roommates at the Sout El Molino house
August 2012-June 2014 may have been the most fun I've ever had with roommates. The house flowed so smoothly, even in the transition between one year and the next when two girls moved in and out. We've spent many nights drinking wine, telling stories and laughing until all hours. They are rocket scientists, astronomers and bring other Cal Tech folks around the house for BBQs. They are from California, Russia, England, Japan, Texas and Boston. I have been so lucky to share my home with all of you: Anna, Melodie, Lauren, Masha, Hannah and Miki! (and Jezelle, our honorary roommate)

And I can't forget our dear Baby German (Greg), who lived with us both summers I was in Pasadena and smelled amazing. He apparently has no idea how he does it. 

Vegas
I went for one night, had a perfect combination of relaxing at the spa, drinking just enough, dancing just enough, gambling JUST a little and eating a huge breakfast with wonderful women before I came home. Never need to do this again, I imagine.

Cinespia

I'm gonna get really Los Angeleno on you, but going to a the Hollywood Forever cemetery, making a picnic along with your wine and beer and watching a movie as the sun sets is a pretty good way to spend a summer night.

The Mumford and Sons Concert

I felt a 60's vibe out in the hot hot hills of San Bernadino where we sat for hours waiting for the band to finally make it's way on stage. The whole hillside was a fashion show, happy party and mad gathering of 20,000 people. I'm not huge on concerts, but this one was out of this world. 

Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks

Zion National Park 

Bur Sur

You can read all about my dipping into my Papa's past in Big Sur here. I was lucky enough to go back 3 more times - twice camping in and once backpacking into the hills to secret hot springs.  Every time I'm there, I certainly feel like I'm intruding on his story and his past - there is something about the place that is not truly mine - but I'm glad I get to be a guest there from time to time.

Redwoods National Park

Finally Climbing Mount Lukens
My friend Joey and I tired to climb this mountain - the highest in LA City limits at an elevation of over 5,000 ft - in January of 2013 and failed miserably because of the heat, the altitude change and simple unpreparedness. We promised each other we'd do it by the end of the year, and in December we made it to the top, where you can see above the Verdugos, all the way from Malibu to San Perdo and across the San Gabriels. It was incredible. And really hard.

An earthquake! It didn't happen until I was nearly done with my time (March 2014). After years of saying wistfully "I only want one just big enough that I can feel it, not so big that anything actually happens." I got my earthquake early in the morning and had to sit for a minute, then log onto facebook to be sure that was actually what had woken me up. Before that happened, my coworkers got me a bottle of "Earthquake" wine for my 24th birthday, trying to get me to stop asking for a natural disaster to strike.

Which brings me to My coworkers at Mayfield. I have been blessed for the last two years with a truly fantastic work environment in the Development Office at Mayfield Senior School. I could not have asked for a better, harder working group of women who make me happy to be in the office every day, and from whom I learned so much. 

Mammoth Lakes
A skier's oasis in the Sierra Nevada mountains, this year was not a great winter for the slopes because of the drought and lack of snow across the state. We still rented a cabin, played lots of games, hiked up in the snow, felt a true chill in the air.

Yosemite
This one was a big one, but I couldn't only go for a single weekend, partly because it's so far from LA, and because I know the park shouldn't just be taken in within those few, short hours. I finally made it, with an awesome group of friends, in May 2014. I can't wait to go back and spend a week in the Valley, just relaxing and marveling!

That feels like so much... and there is obviously so much more in three years of life. I've been blessed to have my assumptions proven wrong about Los Angeles, my gateway to the rest of amazing California.

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Help fund my artistic journey through Northern Ireland where I will be researching and finishing my book, working title Dear Bird for 3-4 months. Learn more about my campaign and donate here. Thank you!