Patience To The Nth Degree

Stop pacing. Stop fretting. Stop worrying. Stop sweating. Some of the best things happen when you just let go.

Mandy Hale

Update: My mother and I received calls that our COVID-19 tests were negative. Since my mother is still coughing, she must stay quarantined in the house and cannot leave until clear of the cough for 72 hours. Thank you for all the support and kind words. Wish you all good thoughts and sending a virtual hug your way. Keep taking care of one another.

Last week was my brother Todd’s birthday. Anyone who knows Todd, knows that he is a go go getter.  When he sets his mind to something, lord help any individual or obstacle that might slow his progress. He doesn’t wait for things to happen, he makes things happen. A great trait when he sets out to build a half dozen garden boxes in his new backyard to grow strawberries, lettuce, green beans, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, the world’s hottest peppers, blue berries, and anything else you can grow to eat in Oregon. He is a Master Gardener without the certification. He researches then he does. A bad trait if you are the lonely soul that is always late or forgets, for example, to bring the pancake mix, from your camping to-do list that Toddy has organized and distributed.

He is also extreme in his outdoor enthusiasms. He taught himself how to be the Captain of his own whitewater raft. White water rafting is elegantly simple. You need to be able to do two things well – work a pair of oars and read a river. He watched countless hours of YouTube videos, talked and worked with multiple experts on river reading and power rowing. He has all the maps and books on the subject, and gone on more solo runs with his kayak buddies to hone his skills before he would take his family or friends down river aboard his raft. He has become one of the most trusted Captains among friends who know what that means. I treasure those rafting trips with my family that he has led. There is fun and chaos that usually ensues. My nephews’ high pitched squeals each time we would go through a rapid that would get them drenched with freezing cold river water, my mother bouncing so high out of her seat that she was left in shock standing or a friend’s friend that refused to wear a life vest and while not paying attention flew over board. She not only wore her life vest but warned us all when a rapid was approaching for the next two days.

The only thing missing from all those trips was my dad’s special margaritas to sip on while we recounted our favorite memories of the day around a camp fire. Lucky for us, that was all going to change, or so we thought.

In 2014, a Kickstarter campaign ended with “$13,285,226 collected from 62,642 backers making it the most funded Kickstarter campaign” in the history of money seeking funding as documented in Wikipedia. Not wanting to be left out of the opportunity to support a local Oregon small business man; my sister, Stephanie, decided to surprise Todd, the ultimate camper, with the Coolest Cooler. A $450 cooler idea that had more bells and whistles than the Titanic and could be bought for about half the price by joining the Kickstarter campaign. This insane cooler had an ice-crushing blender, a Bluetooth water-resistant speaker, a USB charging port, LED Lamps, a bottle opener, plates, knife, corkscrew, and a removable divider that could be used as a cutting board. It even had cup-holders in the lid. The cooler was indeed the Coolest Cooler and exceeded it’s tag line of being  ‘a party in a box’.

A few months after Steph had funded the Coolest Cooler, she was notified that the wait time for the two coolers she bought had been pushed back due to the over load of orders. So at Todd’s birthday party in the spring of 2015 as we sat around a campfire and watched him open each gift and then reignite the fire with wrapping paper, she broke the news that her gift the Coolest Cooler, would be arriving around Thanksgiving. He was slightly disappointed, but still elated with how this product might change his outdoor camping experiences.

Steph received her cooler just before Thanksgiving and showed off its versatility by having dad prepare frozen margaritas while we watched her Cowboys play football. Steph emailed the company asking about Todd’s party in a box and received a reply that orders were back logged, but it was coming.

At our 2016 gathering for Todd’s birthday, Steph wrapped up an envelope that contained a flyer from the Coolest Cooler CEO, offering backers the opportunity to pay $97 to expedite their order as the funding for production was grossly under estimated and had to be halted for a time. Rather than pay $97 for his belated birthday surprise in a box, he chose instead to express his go go getter attitude and disdain for “Steph’s CEO”.

As the months turned into years, my family quickly started joking that Todd’s Coolest Cooler was either so cool that it couldn’t even be seen by the human eye or so lame that it wasn’t worth seeing. Steph would proudly roll her prize to every family outing which often lead to many enlightened discussions. By his birthday of 2017 Todd began spreading the theory that Steph hadn’t really bought it for him. It really was a cruel, older sister trick.

Wikipedia notes, “In September 2016, after receiving 315 consumer complaints in the past year, the Oregon Department of Justice confirmed that it was investigating Coolest Cooler for possible violations of the state’s Unlawful Trade Practices Act.”

Just before Thanksgiving 2017, more than three years after Steph’s funding, Todd’s Coolest Cooler arrived in a drab brown card board box without any indication that this was ‘the party in a box’. While he didn’t immediately call his sister and apologize for his sarcastic  comments after a round of margaritas were made with her cooler, he did crank it up just before his beloved Cowboys Thanksgiving Day kickoff. He did not become one of the estimated 20,000 original backers left out in the cold when the company closed in 2019. Wikipedia deemed the “Coolest Coolers one the most disastrous campaigns ever on Kickstarter.” Wikipedia is being kind.

Moral: 1) Laughter is indeed the best medicine. 2) Never start a Kickstarter campaign without a solid distribution plan. 3) Always wear a life vest.

Feel free to leave your comments below or email, Zsmisadventures@gmail.com with your whimsical stories and it might be featured in a later post. Stay Whimsical and be well. 

Weathering The Storm

Distance means so little when someone means so much.

Tom McNeal

I have grown up hearing the sayings, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder” and “I may not always be with you, but when we are far apart, you are always right here in my heart.” I believed those catchy maxims were reserved for Hallmark cards. Recently, however, I have been giving those ‘distance dicta’  a lot more thought. They are not only true, but great words to live by during this time of uncertainty. I never thought that being separated from those I care most about would be one of the greatest acts of love. I never thought that I would go to bed at night and not be able to hug my parents, but I have for the past month because I love them. I have not seen any of my friends, colleagues, or attended any regular scheduled doctor visits during that time either. I have remained in my home, watching recorded TV shows, working on craft projects, furthering my education in mindfulness practices, and taking occasional walks with my cat in her bubble backpack to the mailbox (making sure to avoid any people I may encounter) because I like many others have displayed symptoms of the virus.

A month ago, during the first week I started to work from home, I suddenly felt dizzy and lightheaded for a few moments a day. Thinking it was from dehydration or stress associated with the new work experience,  I drank plenty of water and went along with my day. The next week I noticed that my mom was coughing a lot and complaining of a sore throat. Thinking it was allergies, she took cough drops and went about her day. Then intense migraines set in and placed her in bed for 3 days. Since I was working from home, I took the time to check in and bring her tea and honey throughout the day. Then I noticed that I too had a sore throat and annoying bumps on the roof of my mouth. I coughed throughout the day and felt more fatigued than usual, but thankful that I was able to work from home and get in my 8 hours before crashing. Thankful too that I wasn’t riding the light rail everyday where a constant cough would have emptied the section of leery travelers. Usually, I wouldn’t think much of a slight cough, a headache or a sore throat, but now I was freaking out. Both my mom and I had the same symptoms that were the first signs before hospitalization and death. These thoughts might have contributed to the heavy chest and occasional shortness of breath.

Deciding it is better to be safe than sorry, I went online to order a thermometer. Afterall, everyone in China took their temperature before entering a building. Depending on the reading they could either enter or were assigned to the temperature tent. Like toilet paper, I discovered thermometers were scarce. After 2 hours of searching, I was able to purchase my first healthcare gadget. However, I didn’t read the fine print on line, and was startled to read the packaged instructions on how to take a pet’s temperature. I was not interested in cat scratch fever nor did I want to stick it where the instructions indicated. A few days and many searching hours later a human fever detecting instrument arrived and revealed that neither one of us ever had a temperature. Our new thoughts were homeward boundaries and let others who may need a test get one of few available in Arizona.

Being inundated with pandemic news 24 hours a day, a test for a test caught my eye. A click took me to the Banner Health’s Website (BannerHealth.com) for the test to see if my mother or I qualified for a test. Being a diabetic was a criteria for my testing and my mother who was still coughing checked off a number of symptoms. I called the screening number (1-844-549-1851 – for AZ and 1-877-462-2911 for Colorado) and they set up an appointment for two weeks out.

When the day arrived to go, my mother and I were both feeling better, but were still coughing and had runny noses. Getting out of the house and moving about the town was the beginning of our first misadventure. I must have been nervous when I wrote down the address of the Banner Health facility we were to drive through because there wasn’t one even close to where Siri took us. The correct site was a mile from home so we had to back track 15 miles in sparse traffic to see if we would still be accepted. Luckily, the officer, was kind enough to let us drive up to be evaluated despite being 20 minutes late for our scheduled appointment. The first stop was to process the appointment schedule where we were also told to stay in the vehicle and crack the window down 2 inches when the doctor came to make the evaluation. The doctor noted on his ipad our symptoms for the last week, added a few health history questions and told us to proceed to the testing station. There we met a nurse who asked us to hold up our photo ID and fill out contact and insurance information. After confirming the contact information, another nurse placed the longest cotton swab ever made in the history of the world up my left nostril. It felt as mildly uncomfortable as sticking a #2 pencil up your nose might feel but with a little added heat and tickle. While it only took a few seconds, my nostril felt weird for about 5 minutes. Results we were told would be by phone in 3 to 4 days.

In the meantime we are placed in quarantine until the symptoms end. Once we have coughed and blown our noses for the last time we will have to wait another 72 hours before we can leave the house. So for now, Amazon is our best friend. Although with Arizona’s stay at home in place until April 30th, I have a feeling we will be inside a lot longer than 72 hours. So now is the time to complete all the projects we said we would someday. For me, it is catching up on 5 years of scrape booking, learning Italian for free on Duolingo, and practicing my keyboard. Whatever you undertake to fill your day, be well and know you are not alone in this. We may not be together, but you are in my heart.

If you want to be able to help the Navajo Nation thru this time you can go to https://www.gofundme.com/f/NHFC19Relief to donate and learn about the impact COVID-19 is having on the reservations. If you have PPE, such as masks and gloves that you would like to share, you can mail them to Navajo Nation Social Services at : P.O. Box 2279, Window Rock, Arizona 86515
48 W. HWY 264, Quality Inn Office Complex, Window Rock, Arizona or call: 1 866 347-2403, if have questions and would like to do more.

If you feel that you or a loved one in Arizona may have symptoms or have been around someone who has symptoms or been diagnosed and you live in Arizona, you can go to Banner Health.com for assistance.

You may also reach out on Facebook to Hearts Helping Humanity and asked to join the group to see what you can do to help or be helped worldwide.

Moral: 1) Distance does not account for the amount of love a person feels for someone. 2) Reaching out for help is a part of being human, no one can weather a storm without something, whether it be material or emotional.

Feel free to leave a comment below or email your stories to zsmisadventures@gmail.com to possibly be used in future blogs.

Staying Afloat

Photo by: Richard Austin

Homemade Boat

This boat that we built is just fine –

And don’t try to tell us it’s not.

The sides and the back are divine –

It’s the bottom i guess we forgot…

Shel Silverstein

One perk of growing up in Aruba was that my school was a mile from the ocean. I could smell the ocean breeze from my science classroom. My science teacher, Ms. Napier, feeling taunted by being so close to the ocean daily, but not being able to walk the white sandy beaches of Baby Beach during her work hours, came up with an ingenious plan to eradicate this issue. After 4 years of teaching in Aruba, she was given a prestigious opportunity back in the states and decided to take it, but not without making a last memory for her students. Every year the seniors, be it 2 or 8 would make boats out of cardboard, duck tape, and wax as part of their senior project. Ms. Napier thought it would be a great idea to do a competition between the 8th graders and the Seniors to see who could not only build their boats, but who could row them across a 1 mile stretch. Being an enthusiastic young teen who is always up for a challenge, I was ecstatic, to say the least, when I was told that my class could participate. I was even more excited that my brother’s class didn’t.

My class was able to pick who our partners were, so I choose a friend of mine, Rachelle. She was a creative young girl, who was very wise. I figured with her on my team we could not only crush the challenge, but we would be the fastest team across.

Rachelle came over to my house two weeks before the challenge to start building our craft. We took a refrigerator box that we got from my dad’s work and covered it with about 4 rolls of duct tape. We then sat in it to make sure it was sturdy. We made whoosing sounds and tried to bend the sides as the tides might, feeling satisfied it wouldn’t bend, we moved on. The last step was brush about a gallon of wax over it, with most of it ending up in my lap. Then we let it dry.

The competition was held on a sunny Friday afternoon allowing our parents a chance to come to witness our triumph or our demise. For safety we were all given life jackets. After seeing several people’s boats sink as soon as they got in them, Rachelle got nervous. Right before we stepped in our boat and pushed off the dock, she turned to me and said… I don’t know how to swim. I assured her we would be fine and that she had her life jacket and the paddle to hold onto if anything went wrong. She agreed and stepped in the boat with me right behind her. We were able to get across in no less than 3 minutes flat.

Once we reached the other side I was so over joyed, I hugged everyone I saw on Baby Beach. I told strangers, that I ran into for weeks, about how my friend and I were able to build a boat out of duck tape, cardboard, and wax. I kept the boat and used it again a few times to row around various beaches that I went to with my family.

I have often thought about getting a group of friends together and doing it again, but the thought of sailing across Tempe Town Lake in Tempe, Arizona just doesn’t have the same majestic quality of rowing my home made boat across the Caribbean Sea.

Moral: 1) Education, when done right, utilizes more than just books. 2) You are capable of more than you think you are, so go for it.

Please leave your stories and comments below in the comments are email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and your story may be used in a future blog.

A Green Thumb

There is always a piece of fortune in misfortune.

Japanese Proverb

First and foremost I would like to say that my heart goes out to those who have or had the COVID-19 virus or have family and friends who do. I am saddened to hear about all the life stories that will not be able to continue and flourish, but instead will be remembered by the stories that they left behind. I would, also, like to thank all those in the medical field and the janitorial staff employees who are working to keep us as healthy as possible. I am grateful to see so many come together in a way that strengthens our communities.

Now on a lighter note. This past Tuesday was Saint Patrick’s day. A day where it is okay to pinch strangers for not wearing green. It is also an excuse to drink a beer with friends and dance the night away. It is one of the few days that the orthodox Lenten restrictions for drinking alcohol is lifted. Saint Patrick was a patron saint of Ireland and it is a day to celebrate him with our Irish friends.

This Saint Patrick’s day, my dad made it one for the memory books. We decided to make a trip to the grocery store to pick up a few essential supplies like Irish Soda Bread, wine, sliced turkey, cookies, and of course, green food coloring. We were not however, prepared for the checkout line that consisted of about 100 people with one roll of toilet paper each. Thinking that the line was just for toilet paper we moved ahead to a shorter register line. Within  seconds we were cussed out by a lady stating that we had jumped this line too. “Go to the back of the store 6 aisles over,” she hissed.

While dad shuffled away, I, being the crafty one, decide to find out how one line could possibly break off into 10 separate checkout lanes. As it turned out, they don’t. The three carts in the cereal aisle led right into the first counter. I texted dad who found me next to Tony the Tiger. He dropped his armful of groceries in to my cart and pretended to leave the store empty handed just in case his lady friend thought he was cutting in another line. It took a few minutes more before I was waltzing out too but not without doing an act of human kindness. I bought a six pack of toilet paper for an 80 year old woman who was giving up after being told the end of the lines was 12 aisles over and back by the orange juice cooler.

When we got home my dad wanted to know if the turkey could possibly be dyed green for his Irish snack. After several minutes of soaking a few pieces in a glass loaf pan filled with green coloring, he took the ham out to admire his handy work. Placing the ham on a plate, he noted that his fingers were green but thinking nothing of it he splashed the coloring over several more slices and then took the whole concoction out to the garage and hung it up to dry. By the time he returned to the sink his entire hands to the wrist were shamrock green. After washing for 30 seconds, his hands were still shamrock green. In true dad fashion he started laughing as turned and held his hands out for all to see, ”I don’t just have a green thumb. I have two green thumbs and 8 green fingers.” It was a funny sight even for a green thumbed landscape professional and funnier yet an hour later when his lips and tongue we also a pretty shamrock green.

Moral: 1) Food coloring does not wash off easily. 2) Laughter makes everything better. 3) Practice compassion for all those who inhabit this big blue and green ball called Earth.

Please feel free to share your thoughts and stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com. Stay whimsical and stay safe. Thanks for taking the time to read my blog and share it, but thanks even more for looking out for each other.  

Welcome To The Jungle

Change the way you look at things and the things you looks at change.

Wayne D. Dyer


Being an adult is mostly being exhausted and wishing you hadn’t made plans. Signs of recovery often lead to the couch where I recharge my cells by binge watching Netflix. If it’s small aches and pains, I soak in a bubble bath. For total rejuvenation, I need the driving sensations of a good concert.  All these options allow the world around me to disappear as I am drawn into the NOW.

One such memory of escape from adulthood was a Guns and Roses concert at the Comerica Theater in downtown Phoenix. The plan was simple with the goal of stress evasion. The tension of driving in downtown traffic and fighting to find and exit and a parking spot was replaced with a leisurely 4 mile ride on the light rail, a three block stroll to the venue and then dance the night away. After another stroll and restful ride I would be back in the hotel bed and finishing off the night with a great dream probably with a musical theme. However, the best part about being an adult are the misadventures.

This unpredictable and memorable night began as I walked out of the hotel lobby and could see the train rapidly approaching the station. After a mad dash to the intersection and dodging cars that had the right of way, I bought tickets while my friend ran to block the doors from closing. I jumped on and we disappeared into the crowd belting out Sweet Child of Mine and convincing others to sing along. In the middle of the chorus a voice came over the loud speaker asking us to exit the train. Confused, I turned to my friend and asked if we could get arrested for singing too loud. I was assured we could not. Once we exited it wasn’t hard to see the real reason why we were all asked to exit the train. Right in front of us was a guy, sitting on the hood of his car which was sitting on the tracks, yelling that he is not drunk and the light rail was in his lane. This stalemate didn’t look good for anyone but once the conductor ensured everyone that it would only be 20 minutes or so before another train could arrive to take us to our destinations, everyone relaxed and my friend and I got the crowd to sing again.

For those who live outside of Arizona, the light rail rides on parallel steel rails that are separate from the asphalt roads that our cars drive on. At no time do cars drive on a light rail track and vice versa. The driver was definitely impaired if he thought his car could take on a light rail.

We were able to get on the other light rail and arrived at Comerica with minutes to spare. We were four rows from the front and still pumped up for a good time. The opening band was an hour and a half late for their 8 pm start. They warmed up the crowd for about a half hour, but not anything that I ever needed to hear again. After another 45 minutes of standing around the crowd was turning a little rowdy. Guns and Roses finally appeared a little after 11:00 PM.

Guns and Roses put on an awesome show: all out volume pulsating hit songs, lighting things on fire, having mini fireworks going off inside the venue and supplying the energy that had everyone transformed into the NOW. At one point I wondered if the fire department was on standby because the flames were getting a bit large. I then quickly went back to dancing to “Welcome to the Jungle” and “Paradise City.” The concert ended at 2:30 AM with Axel Rose throwing his mic into the crowd after the audience helped belt out the last words to “Knocking on Heaven’s Door.”

It did not dawn on me that our simple plan of stress evasion did not take into account that the light rail shuts down at 2 AM. Nor that I might have needed extra cash to get the 4 miles back to our hotel as I spent my last remaining dollars on the light rail passes. I failed to plan on walking 8448 steps in high heels. Have you heard that it doesn’t rain in Arizona? Well it does and it did that night at about mile three. By three AM as we arrived back at the hotel, I was barefoot, my cotton top and pants soaked through making me feel like I was going to drown in the ocean, my stringy head of hair dripped with water that left a trail of droplets as I across the terrazzo lobby and hit the elevator button with a spiked heel. I learned a new acronym that night, KISS which stands for Keep It Simple Stupid.

Moral: 1) Always have a spare pair of flats or tennis shoes if deciding to wear heels, no matter how many inches they may be. 2) Always keep it simple. 3) Learn to find the humor in everyday situations as nothing is predicable.

Please feel free to share your thoughts and stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and your story may be used in a future blog. 

Not your Average Girl

Dear Women, Sometimes you will just be too much woman. Too Smart. Too beautiful. Too strong. Too much of something. That makes a man feel less of of a man, which will start making you feel like you have to be less of a woman. The biggest mistake you can make is removing jewels from your crown to make it easier for a man to carry. When this happens, I need you to understand, you do not need a smaller crown , you need a man with bigger hands.

Michael E. Reid

Above is a poem I wrote my senior year in high school in 2005 when asked to describe myself. I took the opportunity to highlight my many strengths and showcase that no one can easily be placed in a box. We are all unique and have multiple interests and sides that not everyone gets to see all at once. The only way to truly get to know a person is spend time with them in different environments around various people. I am proud to say that today at the age of 32, I have learned to be a stronger woman who values myself and those around me. I am grateful to the many women that build me up when I feel like stepping down. I am grateful to the strong women that raised me, such as my mother and grandmothers. I’m also grateful to have my father in my life, who is a strong man, who always encourages me to keep fighting for what I want and to be true to myself. To everyone out there, thank you for being you. Please always let your light shine bright, but make sure to have a pair of sunglasses available for those around who might need it.

Moral: 1) Always be true to oneself. 2) Lifting others up is more productive then bringing them down. 3) Women are more than objects to be googled, we are human beings with dreams and ambitious and rarely take no for an answer.

Emergency Mix Up

The measure of a life is not its longevity but in its generosity.

Debasish Mridha

My Grandma Eleanor and Grandpa Ed have had a lifetime of adventures and misadventures from winning pool tournaments in the 85 and over club to traveling to Aruba and befriending strippers on the strip. I have inherited their genes of adventure and misadventure. They were the champions of taking an ordinary task, such as going to the grocery store or doctor’s office, and turning it into a plot-line for a comedy show. I learned from them to look for the humor and joy in what I do because like paper beats rock, laughter beats stress. Nothing ever goes 100% the way we picture it, so better to embrace the whole kit and caboodle then fight it.

One such example, was in April 1999 when my grandfather needed to go to the hospital. He had recently been diagnosed with shingles and was in a very serious, unbearable amount of pain. In her 90s, Grandma Eleanor had reluctantly given up driving so she summoned an ambulance.

Mayo Clinic describes Shingles as a painful rash that usually effects the upper torso, that can appear as a part of aging, if the person had chicken pox in the past. Grandpa Ed’s rash was on his face where even his glasses would cause excruciating painful throbbing. Thankfully, pimples have been my only facial battle and following the CDC guidelines I am getting the shingles shot the day I turn 60, despite never getting the chicken pox. Better my arm hurt for a day than my face ‘til I croak.

About fifteen minutes after the call was placed, Eleanor heard the sirens and let Ed know the ambulance was just around the corner and she was going to guide the paramedics in. The paramedics didn’t look for guidance, they walked in, took a look at Grandma Eleanor, swept her up in their arms and let her know they would get her to the hospital straight away. Eleanor was flustered and started looking around for a mirror to figure out how bad she must look. As she was twisting her head around trying to get a good look at herself, she kept groaning that it was Ed who needed the attention not her. The paramedics believing the original broadcast of severe pain was heightened by Eleanor’s delusional thoughts put her in the ambulance quickly and speed off towards the emergency room leaving Ed behind.

Half way to the hospital the paramedics realize that Eleanor was not delusional, but a concerned wife. The driver turned around and Ed was picked up to join the bunch on the ride to the hospital. Apologies were given and the ride in the ambulance was noted to be complimentary. Ed received the treatment that he needed to help with the pain from his shingles and both were escorted home by the head of the ER later that day. Eleanor would later joke with the ladies in her community over Poker that one way to judge if someone is having a good hair day is seeing a paramedic and not being taken to the hospital straight way.

Moral: 1) Learn to laugh at the moments that scare you the most. 2) Always be prepared for the unexpected.

Feel free to leave your comments and hospital stories below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and those stories may be used in a later post.

Adapting To Island Life

“We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us.”

Robyn Yong

Many thoughts cross the mind of a seven year old flying to their new home on the island of Aruba. White sandy beaches, the amazing blues of the Caribbean Sea, palms swaying in the breeze and boogie boarding everyday on the incoming waves were images that filled my imagination after seeing the pictures and videos my parents took while on the job interview. It sounded more like a year round recess than a life in Latin America that would change who I am, what I feel, and how I interact with people.

I was a minority both in the country and among the ten students in my class. Arubans are a mixture of European, African and indigenous people with a sprinkling of South American immigrants. Blonde haired, blue eyed Americans stand out like a jagged boulder on a white sandy beach.
Dutch was the official language, Papiamento the native language, Spanish the most common, and battered English came in a distant fourth. One girlfriend spoke Spanish, the other Papiamento, while my tennis coach rattled off his commands in Dutch. There were many moments of isolation during the first few years because I did not understand what was being said to me and around me. As
my language skills increased, so did the freedom to express myself and, in turn, make better friends. We were the colors of the ethnic rainbow. We were rich and poor and somewhere in between. We danced and laughed and sometimes cried together while being as diverse as the squares on Nonie’s quilt.

Vacations in the states were usually limited to one or two weeks a year. My dad’s Aruban business insisted that a month of travel off island was better for the spirits. (How would your spirits like that?) So travel we did, not to big cities, national parks, or the California beaches, but to Cuzco, Peru for a hike along the Inca Trail, through the Valley of the Gods, and to the 11,000 foot summit of Machu
Picchu. We spent the night on Machu Picchu under the stars, listened to the tales of Inca life in Spanish, and felt the spirit of holiness about the place. We traveled down the Amazon, slept in a floating hotel (flotel) and bamboo huts, smelled the freshness of the rain forest, saw monkeys and birds living in the canopies, communities cut into a jungle clearing, and children paddling dugout canoes down the Amazon to their school. I bargained with the merchants in Ecuador and
joked with Venezuelans at the base of Angel Falls. I swam with penguins and seals, sharks and sting rays in the Galapagos seawater. I walked where Charles Darwin walked, were tortoises the size of a Volkswagen bug live off the land and lizards live off the sea, and thanks to my new language, I understood the lectures on how the wild life had adapted over the centuries from their South American cousins five hundred miles to the East. We cruised to Grenada where Americans
are loved and to St Martin where they are not. I participated in a sports exchange
in Trinidad and Tobago, went to the running of the bulls in Spain, and have made
friends from all over the world.

I can see my difference and diversity since I have returned to the states. when I started high school in California. I chose my friends from the whole high school community and kept a tight knit group, something I still do today. Language is not the barrier, attitude is. I hang out with Hmong, Hispanics, Blacks, and whites, etc. Some groups that in high school would not hangout with each other unless they were taking part in a whimsical new adventure I orchestrated. They are the patches of my Nonie’s quilt and from my life in Aruba I have learned that I can be the thread that holds them together.

I am proud to say that today my group of friends is still extremely diverse whether it be a difference in religion, race, language, political beliefs, disabilities, or sexual interest. I find a way to connect with them and they with me. Together we defy stereotypes and have the spiritual connections that last a lifetime.

Morals: 1) Don’t just make a bucket list, find a way to live it. 2) Stepping outside your comfort zone is good for the soul.

Feel free to leave a comment below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and your thoughts may be used in a future blog.

Being My Own Hero

Love yourself first and everything else falls into line. You really have to love yourself to get anything done in this world.

Lucille Ball
" If anyone should hurt you and say a thing unkind
remember what I tell you and keep these things in mind.
For everyone who makes you cry, there are three who make you smile.
A smile will last a long, long time, a tear just a little while.
If someone says a thing that's cruel, don't let it get it you.
There is so much good about you, your faults are very few.
So if a certain someone should act a certain way,
just think of those who love you, don't let it ruin your day.
Don't let someone who hates the world cause you to hate it too
for behind the clouds is a golden sun and sky that's bright and blue. "

I found those corny verses in an old journal that I kept in 2008. I wrote it after a memorable Valentines Day misadventure.

It was two in the morning and I had just gotten back from a quick day-trip to Stanford with the Marching Lumberjacks. I banged the bass drum and cheered the Humboldt State basketball team to victory. I could not wait to get into my soft Minnie Mouse onesie and curl up under the covers and get some long needed shut eye. Unfortunately my roommate and her boyfriend had other plans.

When I arrived at the dorm, I noticed that the light to the bedroom was still on. While the living room was empty, my roommate and her boyfriend were sitting on her bed watching a movie on her laptop. When I asked if they wouldn’t mind watching it in the living room so I could get some sleep, they said, “ No. We’re quite comfortable”. I then asked if they would at least turn the light off. Again, a resounding, “No”. When my roommate went to the restroom, I again kindly requested that the movie be watched elsewhere or, at least, the light be turned off. I let him know that I would gladly sleep at a girlfriend’s place the next night, but at 2 AM, I was not going to call anyone tonight.

At that point he decided to yell and shout and call me a variety of names. “It’s my girlfriend’s room too. So you can take your stupid Minnie Mouse outfit and sleep outside with the homeless,” he screamed. He ended his rant with a lung busting, “You’re nothing, but a no good for nothing…………… S L U T.”

Picture me laying in bed and him bending down screaming into my face. Then picture the swiftness of a frog’s tongue capturing an unsuspecting fly. If you can imagine that then you can imagine the swiftness of my fist meeting his nose. I was Bruce Lee and his nose the board. He just stood there letting the blood drip to the floor when a police officer peeked his head in the door and asked if everything was alright. He informed us that the neighbors had heard the shouting and called fearing someone’s safety. I let the officer know that everything would be fine, if my roommate’s boyfriend who doesn’t live in the dorm would just leave my bedroom. By then my roommate had returned and overheard the officer telling the schmuck to leave. She gave me the death glare, packed up her belongings and left to go to her boyfriend’s home for the night.

As I snuggled in for the night, I could feel my face expand into a big smile. The next day, I got a congratulations card from dorm mates for being ‘A Bad A–”. I also got a roommate that was never around, allowing me to enjoy countless nights of uninterrupted sleep. When it comes to fight or flight, I guess I’m a fighter.

Moral: 1) Every day is an opportunity to show and express acts of love and kindness. 2) Name Calling is never the way to go. 3) If you have been punched in the nose, you probably deserved it. Learn and move on. 4) Don’t wait for a hero, be your hero.

Please feel free to share your thoughts and stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com to have it possibly to be used in future posts.

A Night to Remember

“Music is the universal language of mankind.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I agree with Itzhak Perlman that “It is good medicine to go to a concert hall and forget the harshness of what is going on. It can be a very positive thing.” I go to about 5 concerts a year for that very reason, to escape reality and just be. The electric energy shared between the performers and the audience is something that is so genuine and unique that it is different even if you see the same band twice. Concerts are my happy place. Friends have never seen me happily energized until they see me at a concert.

During the Spring of 2006, I put on my black lipstick with a black leather jacket and drove two hours from Humboldt State to San Francisco to see my heroine P!nk perform in a small venue. When I got there I was beyond giddy. I skipped my way up to Will Call. When I got there, I was told that my tickets were not present under my name or the name of the company I bought them through. I then was given a 5 minute lecture as to why I need to buy tickets from Ticketmaster as other companies are known just to take a person’s money. I ran out of tears by the time my two hour drive home was complete. The next morning at 8 AM, I received a call from the venue letting me know my tickets were found under the company name and I would get free tickets to any show I wanted. I asked and finally spoke to the manager to state that next time the staff needs to actually look for the tickets instead of giving lectures. I then demanded they return my money as I would never see a show there. Since then I have been able to see P!NK twice, but I can’t let go of the feeling that in a small venue I might have met her. After all I have met the singers of Matchbox 20, O-Town, Fall Out Boy, and a few others. I have a guitar pick from 3 Doors Down, The Goo Goo Dolls, and Rob Thomas. I even have a guitar pick from Sister Hazel that my dad reach up on stage before the band walked out and took from the spares stuck between the cables in the mic.

My most memorable moment was in April of 2010, when I saw Train for the first time in Oakland. After a two and half drive I ended up in the wrong venue. I felt so secure in where I was going that I didn’t look at my ticket. I was wrong. Luckily, the Oracle was close to the Fox Theater allowing me enough time to get in and stand in the 3rd row from the stage. I was smiling ear to ear when Pat Monahan came out and sang one of my favorite songs, “Marry Me.” I couldn’t help but have a tear run down my cheek due to the sweetness in his voice and the smile on his face as he looked at me and took my hand and sang the lyrics:

“Marry me
Today and every day
Marry me
If I ever get the nerve to say “Hello” in this cafe
Say you will
Mm-hmm
Say you will
Mm-hmm“

I will never forget the wink he gave me when he let go of my hand and continued the awesome concert. I later was given a signed guitar pick. Out of all the concerts I have been to, he is the only one who crowd surfed. It was amazing to see the crowd catch him when he fell backwards into our hands.

I called my mom later that night gushing about the fact that Pat Monahan from Train held my hand and sang Marry Me to me as well as accidentally grabbing his buttocks to help get him back on stage during the crowd surfing. I told my mom that he explained that “Calling All Angels” is about a person having a devilish side that constantly pushes obnoxious comments, such as, “you are ugly” or “you can’t do this” and an Angel on the other side pushing kindness and caring “you are beautiful” and “you can do this.” So Calling All Angles is about calling out everyone’s angelic side. I left that show feeling as though I was floating on a cloud and didn’t shed a tear on the long drive back to school.

That is the power that concerts have. They can make someone go from feeling down and out to hopeful and excited for the future. They can bring different groups of people together who may otherwise never meet. I met hundreds of bikers at a 3 Doors Down motorcycle rally fundraiser concert for Phoenix Children’s Hospital. My friend and I dressed in cut offs and t shirts stuck out like sore thumbs in the leather parade that surrounded us but we all smiled and sang Be Somebody with feeling and as one.

Moral: 1) Remember you have a beautiful soul so don’t be afraid to let it shine. 2) Concerts are a great way to relieve stress, meet new people, and create memories that last a lifetime. 3) Ticketmaster is always the way to go.

Please feel free to share your comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and they might be used in a future blog. Stay Whimsical.