I survived a terrorist attack and celebrated with McDonald's fries...

People deal with traumatic experiences in different ways.  I'm learning that it helps me to write about what I've experienced (a glass of bourbon helps too but...people judge less if you choose to write instead).  So, here I go, I'm turning my blog into a therapy session and a hopeful release of this crazy bomb-in-the-face reality I need to face.

It's amazing HOW FAST your life can change.  On Friday, April 12, 2013, I hopped into my car with one of the world's greatest people, fully loaded with hiking and skiing gear, snacks, and visions of the great Tuckerman's Ravine on our horizon.  I had just received a promotion at work that day so a weekend away with some fellow adventure-seekers seemed like the perfect way to celebrate.  We drove 4.5 hours north to the mountains, sipped some celebratory champagne, and retired early so we would be fully energized for the big hike the next day.

Early to rise, everyone in the house was eager to hit the trail and enjoy the day.  Skis and boards were strategically secured to packs, food and water appropriately rationed to avoid having to carry excess weight,  and layers of clothing adorned to avoid the chance of overheating and freezing all in the same trip.  We were on our way.  Conversations about favorite music, books, and future expeditions helped pass the time as we moved ahead and finally reached the base of the infamous bowl.  Go time.

I'm not crazy (or skilled enough) so I didn't hike to the very top like everyone else did.  The bottom 2/3 of the bowl offered the right amount of challenge and adrenaline rush for my skill level so I made my home there.  I was met with a huge sense of accomplishment, excitement, and a celebratory swig of moonshine at the bottom with the rest of the group before making the trek back to the parking lot.  Everyone was floating on the same level of pride for having dominated Tucks and that pride was going to carry us on for a few days (or at least it was having that effect on me).

Fast forward to Monday morning, I awake to greet the day with a very sunburned face and a level of excitement only felt on Marathon Monday!  Seriously, it's the only Monday of the year Bostonians are excited about.  As a healthcare professional, you normally don't have Marathon Monday (Patriot's Day) off from work (hell...you have to fight for most holiday time off) unless you schedule decades in advance and are granted permission.  I got permission and was determined to continue on with my epic weekend, surrounded by friends, in my apartment conveniently located at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

After cheering the elite runners across the finish line, I started preparing for spending more time outside, cheering for those runners who I find truly inspiring.  The runners I can identify myself with.  The ones who make me say, "oh, I'm totally running the marathon next year....".  Pressed up in my prime location along the barriers, cheering for a few familiar faces as they ran past me, capturing as many photos as my sophisticated iPhone would allow, I was psyched.  I love where I live, I'm happy to be back in Boston, this day f**king rocks!  High-five to my roommate standing next to me...I'm so glad I'm not at work.

Boom.

(dialogue on the street)
J: What the heck was that?
me: I think that was a bomb.
J: No way, I think it's a ceremonial cannon for Patriot's Day.
me: there's too much smoke...

Within a matter of 10 seconds I was able to have a fully detailed conversation with myself: was that really a bomb, what was I going to do, where is my exit...oh my God!  Is the Pru going down next?!  Wait...maybe it's not anything to be worried about.  Maybe it really is just a cannon and I've been watching too many war movies...

BOOM (on our block)

At this point, everything plays out in slow motion.  It's loud, it smells, and I can feel the blast.  Not strong enough to knock me over, but its presence was felt.  Definitely a bomb.  Ok.  I'm not hurt.  Are there more?  People screaming.  People running.  Will this trashcan or mailbox here next to me be the next to blow?  I should probably put my snack plate on the ground and run away (seriously...I was concerned about this for a second).  Running.  Wait...is anyone hurt?  WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS?  I'm turning back!  I can help!

I ran back to the barricade, towards the firemen and police officers who were quick to respond, and was told to "get out of here!  I don't even want to be here. Seriously!  This is real! RUN!". But my friends...I know they are further ahead, I just spoke with them, they aren't answering their phones.  Are they alive?  Breathe.  I then spotted two familiar faces and ran to greet them.  An incredible sense of momentary relief.  Ok...where are the others?

We all ran upstairs to my apartment, greeted by faces of those guests who weren't completely sure about what had just happened outside.  Not completely sure why I couldn't control my emotions as I frantically glanced around for another hopeful sign that everyone was ok.  Wait...did two bombs seriously just rock my neighborhood?  I wanted my family.  I wanted this to be fake.

I still want it to be fake.  Phone calls were made, texts responded to, and guests left my home...able to leave and go back to their quiet neighborhoods.  Away from what had happened that day.  I didn't sleep Monday night.  The 25 officers, snipers, and Army National Guard stationed on my street weren't enough.  Was something else going to blow up while I was sleeping?  I couldn't switch gears in my mind.  Relax.

The next morning, I was escorted from my door, through various checkpoints, down to my car and proceeded to go to work.  Trying to get back to my normal routine.  I was hoping work would be a distraction and I'd be fine.  Keep myself busy to avoid replaying the explosions over and over and over in my head.  It didn't work.  I couldn't stop crying.  Screw this, I'm going to see my family.  

My sister has never hugged me so tightly and my mother couldn't stop shaking after showing her pictures I took that captured the first explosion.  I found comfort in their company, away from my apartment, enjoying McDonald's fries and a Blizzard from DQ.  Very American.  My father is away on business and can't get home soon enough to receive the gigantic hug I have saved up for him.  I love my family.

I went for a run around my neighborhood yesterday, followed by a walk around the places I'd normally visit while running errands.  A UPS truck backfiring outside of CVS made me jump back, providing a reality check on my nerves.  It's going to take a while to regain a sense of safety and security, especially when my uniformed guardians leave my doorstep.  It will become easier to drown out the images in my mind each time someone asks, "how are you doing?"...I just need to be patient.  Physically, I'm fine.  Emotionally, it's going to take time.

Everyone will react to this tragedy in a different way.  This is how I'm reacting.  I've never been more grateful for those friends and family in my life who are providing support and allow me to handle this in my own way. Because I can give them, be ready for some great big KZak hugs the next time I see you.  Tuckerman's Ravine and a terrorist attack in the same weekend?  Bring it...I'm an incredibly lucky woman who can't wait to continue to embrace all that life brings me.

Boston Strong.

Addicted to life at 6280ft. (approx.)

I hate Laundromats.  I’m currently sitting in one because my valiant efforts in locating a “wash-n-fold” were less than successful and I’m now forced to do my own laundry (it’s been piling up for 2 weeks…’bout time eh?).  Because I’m a “baller” (or lazy), I’ve been paying someone to do my laundry for the past 6 months.  My time is extra valuable and I love not folding clothes.  I figure, if I must be stuck in a facility such as this, I might as well reflect on the last 2-3 weeks of my life! 

I moved to South Lake Tahoe about 2 weeks ago and spent the first week all by my lonesome, discovering the area, settling into my cabin, and preparing myself for this daunting Laundromat experience.  Monday morning of week one, I woke up, looked outside, and found 3 inches of fresh snow outside my window.  It was June 6^th.  In a state of denial, I climbed back into bed and didn’t leave until the snow had melted and I was able to wear my running shoes for a run instead of my snow boots.  About 3 weeks prior, I was able to run 3-7 miles a couple times a week without much problem.  On Monday, I was about to flag down an ambulance at mile 2.  Running at 6300 feet for the first time is a horrible, horrible experience.  My feet morphed into cinderblocks and my lungs embraced emphysema and I died.  No bueno. 

Throughout the next few days I walked down the street to read on the rocks, treat myself to a massage, watch the sunsets, and decide which local pub would become my favorite.  I also needed to reacquaint myself with commercially run grocery stores (tear) and map out where all the locally grown/harvested products are (ok…so there’s a Trader Joe’s near work!  I won’t have to try as hard as I thought).   Thursday was spent paddling around the lake with my favorite McCusker, soaking up the sunshine, and eating a late afternoon snack with a raccoon.  The tourists were highly amused and the locals highly amused by the tourists.  I’m still a tourist. 

Friday, after dying on a run, I made my way up to Reno for a BBQ with some old Spaulding favorites.  There’s a small group of therapists from back home who are all traveling in this area for the summer…it’s fantastic.  The dinner spread was something I wasn’t prepared for.  I think Martha Stewart was there setting up before I arrived.  It was a crazy night of delicious food, good drinks, new friends, and serious belly laughs.  Definitely needed.  Saturday, a group of us traveled to Truckee, CA for a brewers festival and bluegrass show.  In order to enter CA from NV, you have to pass through an agriculture checkpoint.  I freaked when I realized I had leftover blueberry and peach cobbler in my car…turns out they don’t care about cobbler.  Phew!  We arrived in Truckee an hour early (surprised?), ventured around the downtown area (super cute), and then made our way back to the festival. 

A really wonderful thing about the west coast…tons of microbreweries.  I started making beer a few years ago and have much respect for brewers.  I’m nowhere close to crafting  beers on par with the ones I tasted at the festival but certainly have high hopes of learning one day. 

On Sunday, I was contacted by a really great couple to go sailing on the lake.  I put my name up on a “crew finder” list and it’s worked out pretty well!  I showed up to their boat in the Tahoe Keyes neighborhood and was eager to help rig.  In college and grad school, I sailed “competitively” around the northeast.  After college, I lived in the BVI’s for a short while to teach on larger boats and learn more about navigational skills.  I’m most certainly not the best but I have an idea of what I’m doing, have the necessary gear, and definitely have the love for the lifestyle.  At this point in time, this couple has confidence in me as their crew…which they should.  I pick up a few gear bags, get to the dock, put on my boots, and start heading down to the boat.  Within 20 seconds, I’m in the water.  I gracefully slammed into the dock, bounced off a pontoon boat (docked on the opposite side of their boat), and get stuck between the pontoon and the dock.  I heroically manage to keep their gear bags above water while I wedge myself even further between my two vices. 

Once out of the water I realize I failed to put my cell phone in the waterproof pelican case because my pocket would obviously do a better job.  Great…I’m now sopping wet (extra clothes at bottom of lake), swearing because I now need to order my 4^th replacement phone in 3 months (I hate cell phones and swearing), and I’m convinced I broke my elbow mid bounce off the pontoon (still convinced).  All I could do was look at them and ask, “which one’s the sailboat?”

Despite the seamless introduction, we hit the water, enjoyed some cocktails, and I was able to experience the incredible Tahoe scenery from the water.  Not a bad way to end my vacation week.  That night, I prepared my work clothes and hit the sheets early.  The next day was my birthday and first day at a new job. 

I didn’t have much expectation for my birthday this year.  No phone, no internet, no family, and I wouldn’t see any friends that day.  Honestly, I was in denial and didn’t want to acknowledge what day it was.  All it took was a 94 year old man and a balloon to change my day around.  I seriously love working in skilled nursing facilities…and old men. 

When my co-workers caught drift of what day it was, they bought cupcakes, sang “happy birthday”, and decided it would be a good idea to take me to a casino for dollar drinks once work was out.  I truly lucked out with some great co-workers.  They quickly made me feel welcomed, less homesick, and excited for this next year of life. 

Mid-week, an old friend from college and her boyfriend arrived to stay for a few days.  My home felt more alive, happy, and comfortable.  I was excited to have company.  We set out to watch the Bruins win the cup, found a fantastic pub (partially owned by a UNH alumn!!!) and went to sleep after I made a few recommendations for day excursions around the lake.  I knew Tahoe was a magical place (I’m corny, I know) and the news I received when I arrived home from work the next day proved it.  During their kayak trip to Emerald Bay, Adam asked Nell to marry him.  As I entered through the front door, Nell came jumping (literally) into the living room shouting, “KZAK!  I’M ENGAGED!!!”.  I welled up with excitement for them (Adam’s amazing and I’ve never seen Nell so happy or content…great match) and headed straight for the champagne.  We made a delicious dinner that night, toasted their happiness, and headed out for a champagne sunset. 

The rest of the work week went seamlessly, I battled food poisoning Friday night, and decided that dehydration was no excuse to miss out on a camping trip/hike the next day in the Sierra Mountains.  I’m so stubborn. 

So far, Tahoe’s been a roller-coaster ride and I’m lovin’ it.  I wish you were all here with me.  For those who are able to make the trip…fair warning…you’re going to fall in love and never leave!  

Addicted to life at 6280ft. (approx.)

 I hate Laundromats.  I’m currently sitting in one because my valiant efforts in locating a “wash-n-fold” were less than successful and I’m now forced to do my own laundry (it’s been piling up for 2 weeks…’bout time eh?).  Because I’m a “baller” (or lazy), I’ve been paying someone to do my laundry for the past 6 months.  My time is extra valuable and I love not folding clothes.  I figure, if I must be stuck in a facility such as this, I might as well reflect on the last 2-3 weeks of my life! 

I moved to South Lake Tahoe about 2 weeks ago and spent the first week all by my lonesome (not really), discovering the area, settling into my cabin, and preparing myself for this daunting Laundromat experience.  Monday morning of week one, I woke up, looked outside, and found 3 inches of fresh snow outside my window.  It was June 6^th.  In a state of denial, I climbed back into bed and didn’t leave until the snow had melted and I was able to wear my running shoes for a run instead of my snow boots.  About 3 weeks prior, I was able to run 3-7 miles a couple times a week without much problem.  On Monday, I was about to flag down an ambulance at mile 2.  Running at 6300 feet for the first time is a horrible, horrible experience.  My feet morphed into cinderblocks and my lungs embraced emphysema and I died.  No bueno. 

Throughout the next few days I walked down the street to read on the rocks, treat myself to a massage, watch the sunsets, and decide which local pub would become my favorite.  I also needed to reacquaint myself with commercially run grocery stores (tear) and map out where all the locally grown/harvested products are (ok…so there’s a Trader Joe’s near work!  I won’t have to try as hard as I thought).   Thursday was spent paddling around the lake with my favorite McCusker, soaking up the sunshine, and eating a late afternoon snack with a raccoon.  The tourists were highly amused and the locals highly amused by the tourists.  I’m still a tourist. 

Friday, after dying on a run, I made my way up to Reno for a BBQ with some old Spaulding favorites.  There’s a small group of therapists from back home who are all traveling in this area for the summer…it’s fantastic.  The dinner spread was something I wasn’t prepared for.  I think Martha Stewart was there setting up before I arrived.  It was a crazy night of delicious food, good drinks, new friends, and serious belly laughs.  Definitely needed.  Saturday, a group of us traveled to Truckee, CA for a brewers festival and bluegrass show.  In order to enter CA from NV, you have to pass through an agriculture checkpoint.  I freaked when I realized I had leftover blueberry and peach cobbler in my car…turns out they don’t care about cobbler.  Phew!  We arrived in Truckee an hour early (surprised?), ventured around the downtown area (super cute), and then made our way back to the festival. 

A really wonderful thing about the west coast…tons of microbreweries.  I started making beer a few years ago and have much respect for brewers.  I’m nowhere close to crafting  beers on par with the ones I tasted at the festival but certainly have high hopes of learning one day. 

On Sunday, I was contacted by a really great couple to go sailing on the lake.  I put my name up on a “crew finder” list and it’s worked out pretty well!  I showed up to their boat in the Tahoe Keyes neighborhood and was eager to help rig.  In college and grad school, I sailed “competitively” around the northeast.  After college, I lived in the BVI’s for a short while to teach on larger boats and learn more about navigational skills.  I’m most certainly not the best but I have an idea of what I’m doing, have the necessary gear, and definitely have the love for the lifestyle.  At this point in time, this couple has confidence in me as their crew…which they should.  I pick up a few gear bags, get to the dock, put on my boots, and start heading down to the boat.  Within 20 seconds, I’m in the water.  I gracefully slammed into the dock, bounced off a pontoon boat (docked on the opposite side of their boat), and get stuck between the pontoon and the dock.  I heroically manage to keep their gear bags above water while I wedge myself even further between my two vices. 

Once out of the water I realize I failed to put my cell phone in the waterproof pelican case because my pocket would obviously do a better job.  Great…I’m now sopping wet (dry clothes at bottom of lake), swearing because I now need to order my 4^th replacement phone in 3 months (I hate cell phones and swearing), and I’m convinced I broke my elbow mid bounce off the pontoon (still convinced).  All I could do was look at them and ask, “which one’s the sailboat?”

Despite the seamless introduction, we hit the water, enjoyed some cocktails, and I was able to experience the incredible Tahoe scenery from the water.  Not a bad way to end my vacation week.  That night, I prepared my work clothes and hit the sheets early.  The next day was my birthday and first day at a new job. 

I didn’t have much expectation for my birthday this year.  No phone, no internet, no family, and I wouldn’t see any friends that day.  Honestly, I was in denial and didn’t want to acknowledge what day it was.  All it took was a 94 year old man and a balloon to change my day around.  I seriously love working in skilled nursing facilities…and old men. 

When my co-workers caught drift of what day it was, they bought cupcakes, sang “happy birthday”, and decided it would be a good idea to take me to a casino for dollar drinks once work was out.  I truly lucked out with some great co-workers.  They quickly made me feel welcomed, less homesick, and excited for this next year of life. 

Mid-week, an old friend from college and her boyfriend arrived to stay for a few days.  My home felt more alive, happy, and comfortable.  I was excited to have company.  We set out to watch the Bruins win the cup, found a fantastic pub (partially owned by a UNH alumn!!!) and went to sleep after I made a few recommendations for day excursions around the lake.  I knew Tahoe was a magical place (I’m corny, I know) and the news I received when I arrived home from work the next day proved it.  During their kayak trip to Emerald Bay, Adam asked Nell to marry him.  As I entered through the front door, Nell came jumping (literally) into the living room shouting, “KZAK!  I’M ENGAGED!!!”.  I welled up with excitement for them (Adam’s amazing and I’ve never seen Nell so happy or content…great match) and headed straight for the champagne.  We made a delicious dinner that night, toasted their happiness, and headed out for a champagne sunset. 

The rest of the work week went seamlessly, I battled food poisoning Friday night, and decided that dehydration was no excuse to miss out on a camping trip/hike the next day in the Sierra Mountains.  I’m so stubborn. 

So far, Tahoe’s been a roller-coaster ride and I’m lovin’ it.  I wish you were all here with me.  For those who are able to make the trip…fair warning…you’re going to fall in love and never leave!  

stubborn hiker

kayak day with mccusker

little bubbly to celebrate their engagement!

nothin' but a little r&r in the forest :)

Trot Trot to...

...beautiful Lake Tahoe

In just one very, very short week, I'll be packing up my belongings and moving to the Sierra Nevada's.  It's amazing how quickly 6 months pass.  I've been living in the San Francisco Bay area since December and it's time for me to end this chapter.  Okay, so maybe it'll be more of a "dog ear" because I'm aiming to come back to San Francisco in September.  There's SO MUCH to do here and I need a little more time :)

When I decided to take my traveling therapy gig across the country, I hoped I'd learn and grow from my experience. I never expected it to be life changing.  Yes...LIFE CHANGING...such a huge concept, right?  Seriously though, I'm most definitely not the same person I was 6 months ago when I left the borders of good old Massachusetts.  When leaving the comforts of all things familiar in your world, you're forced to embrace and recognize the good, the bad, and the ugly in yourself.  Well...I've seen a lot of good.  I've seen a lot of bad.  And I've seen a lot of ugly.

Thank you, Northern California, for teaching me how to be more patient, embrace the beauty in my life, and slowing me down enough to be more mindful of my actions in the present.  Thank you for teaching me how to be a little less abrasive and that it's not going to kill me to let anyone within the 2 foot barrier bubble I've built around myself for emotional and physical protection.  Also, thank you for teaching me how to accept love and kindness as genuine actions from strangers.

I can't express how incredible my experience has been at the hospital I was assigned to.  I know I've mentioned before about how fantastic my co-workers have been but that doesn't serve them any justice.  It's always my goal to be able to share some sort of knowledge/information with the facility I'm contracted to.  I know I've done that here but I'm not sure they are fully aware of how much they have taught me.  The past six months have been spent working side by side with some fabulously talented and dedicated therapists who have helped me grow both professionally and personally.  I am forever grateful for their kindness and friendship.

This is going to be a tough gig to follow so I don't have any expectations for my upcoming assignment.  I'm constantly asked by patients, "how can you leave this place?  Everyone here is so nice!".  Well, I knew the second I laid eyes on Lake Tahoe that I wanted to live there.  After hearing that it's a bajillion times better in the summer, I was sold and asked my recruiter to start looking for placements in the lake area.  When you're a traveler, most of the time you have to pick which you want more:  location vs job type.  I'm more the type to pick location because I try not to live for work...(very un-American, I know).  I just happened to luck out with an ideal location and an ideal job the past 6 months.

How long are you planning on traveling, KZak?

Well...funny question.  I have noooooo idea.  Six months ago I was telling people that'd I'd probably only be gone for three.  I was also calling Boston "home".  We can see how great I am with predicting the future.  My family and 99% of my closest friends are all still back east...which, for a lack of creativity, really sucks.  I'll probably return someday, when I'm ready to grow some roots of my own.  As for now, I've got a gypsy soul.  I'm going to continue daydreaming about my future and take each moment as it comes.  Cheers!

Momma told me, there'll be days like this...

Van Morrison, you speak the truth.

Man oh man...where to start?  I now understand why my college professor's just happened to omit important information regarding certain job "duties" we'd face on the field.  Don't get me wrong, we're all very well prepared and educated by the time we finish undergrad...your lives are not in danger.  Science and theories are drilled into our brains and we learn how to work with an individual and their families to piece their lives back together.  Sometimes back to the way things were, other times we help paint a whole new picture.  It's pretty great.

This pretty picture is painted for us for the first 4 years of our schooling.  Hooray for changing lives!  I know I was psyched to dive into my first clinical and felt ready.  I knew everything and was going to be the best OT EVERRR!!!  Dummy.

Now, there are MANY different realms in the world of OT.  I just happen to prefer (LooOoOove) working in acute care/acute rehabilitation hospitals with patients who have sustained neurological injuries/diseases/disabilities.  (I've also enjoyed working in mental wards and skilled nursing facilities but most of my experience is in the aforementioned area).  Nothing about what I'm going to talk about next is to be taken negatively.  I love what I do...but sometimes you encounter days where you say to yourself, "WHAT THE HECK AM I DOING!?".

Ok...so after undergrad comes grad school.  You're thrown into clinical placements where you experience EVERYTHING the profession addresses.  Bodily function's, baby.  They wait after you've already dedicated 4 years of your life to tell you about the nitty gritty.  Can't back out now, right?

Everybody poops.  There's a book on it..."Everyone Poops, My Body Science".  Everybody does.  Pooping is an occupation of living thus, occupational therapist's must address pooping issues.  I've most definitely become desensitized to this issue.  It's taken a few years but  I can have a serious conversation with any patient who needs counseling on certain plumbing issues.  I must remember, though, that just because I'm comfortable with it, doesn't mean they are!  Working with people in their most vulnerable moments is enormously humbling and I take it very seriously.

Sooo...back to that, "what the heck am I doing" comment.  I almost cried at work today. A huge dirty karmic boomerang was thrown my way and almost beat me.  Everything I touched either broke or pooped.  The first 3 hours of my work day were spent cleaning, powdering, barrier-creaming, and re-dressing my patient's.  (Keep in mind- it's not on a toilet.  Bed pans, diapers, bedside commodes...majority of these individual's can't move half of their body so I need to lift or shift to make it work).  Sometimes twice in a half hour...it just kept coming!  Seriously, who passed out the prune juice last night?  On top of it, half of the cases included C.Diff (if you're curious and don't know what it is then look it up after dinner).  My treatment sessions all morning (4 hours) focused on toileting.  I've never, ever, experienced this much poop at work before.  Must be it for the day, right?

Nope.  I knew it too.  I called it at lunch with a co-worker..."my 3 o'clock is going to add to my day".  The second I walked in, "hey Kaitlyn, I think today would be a good day to work on my bowel program".  OF COURSE IT IS!  All systems were go...

...and I still love what I do.   :)

No News...Must Be Good News!

Contrary to popular belief, I HAVEN'T forgotten about my blog!  I've actually been extremely aware that I haven't been posting anything for the past 2 months and have been consciously avoiding it.  During my last post, I had just moved into a new apartment and was starting to explore my new home.  What an improvement.

I've happily started eating meat again (in small increments) as long as it's grass fed, free range, hormone free, speaks Italian, and enjoys long walks on the beach (I know it's ridiculous but in all fairness...it's extremely attainable out here so I'm going to soak it up while I can!).  Lentils and kale have also made a speedy entrance into my diet as they were introduced to me by my new roommate WHO, as luck would have it, is a chef!  A fantasticly quirky-yogi-PhD-kale-cookin' roommate who goes on trail runs, picks mushrooms from the Berkeley hillside, and then comes home and creates a fantastic dinner!  Don't worry, he always tries the mushrooms first and only picks the one he can identify.

The weather is still inconsistently gorgeous (sometimes, it rains) and I try to be outside after work every day.  I've been learning how to "chill out" and think I'm doing a pretty good job at it.  I took a hint from my previous roommates who started playing "She's a Maniac" from Flashdance whenever I'd return home and start getting ready for my next plans.  Time to cool it, KZak.  I've started keeping fresh flowers by my bed, replacing them each Monday, as a friendly reminder each week to enjoy the beautiful things in my life and "stop to smell the roses"!  Ha!    It's working :)

So...in addition to Berkeley...I've got another place in California I like to think of as "home".  TAHOE.  I've only been a handful of times in the past 2 months but Tahoe reserved an instant place in my heart the second I arrived there (despite the variable driving conditions to actually get there (3 hours vs. 18 hours in a blizzard))...I still love it.  One of my closest friends (she's also a traveling therapist) landed a placement there for the winter.  She's introduced me to the place I hope to travel to next...I've been told Summer Tahoe trumps Winter Tahoe.  Finger's crossed!!!  I know I'd be happy there.

Has anyone else started feeling awkward using the word, "home"?  I was just about to type something like "oh...so this past week I was home on vacation!"...that could mean many places!!!  What the heck!?  Clarification: Home = Berkeley...I think.  I don't even know...roll with it...sorry to put you through that.

Okay...so this past week and a half I was in Mexico AND Massachusetts!  Mexico was absolutely gorgeous and quickly reminded me of how much I miss the short life I experienced in the Caribbean.  The hot sun, sand, and ocean breeze felt good.  I was able to go on a 2 tank dive and brought along a few adventurous souls with me for their first diving experience!  They both enjoyed it (phew!) and seeing them down by the ocean floor brought me great excitement and happiness.  I absolutely loOOoove when other's find joy in something I'm passionate about. The diving was gorgeous, helped me escape for a bit, and encouraged me to bring some of my diving equipment back to CA- I need to go more often.

After Mexico, I found myself on a flight back to Boston.  I was definitely excited to return after only being gone for 3 months but was also very, very curious to see how I felt being back on my old stomping grounds.  The beginning of the week was spent with my family, as it should be, visiting with my parents, sister, and grandparents.  While home, I was also given the opportunity to say goodbye to my childhood dog, Luke.  Initially, I was actually pretty pissed my parents had kept him around for me to come home to.  I'm pretty selfish in the fact that I'd much rather hold on to healthy memories of a person...or pet...and would rather someone else go through the heartache of saying goodbye.  Considering the fact I work with very sick/dying people all the time, you'd think I'd be okay with death and sickness.  False.  Anyway, in retrospect, I'm happy I was able to see him again.  He's still got the same bratty attitude I've loved for the past 15 years...I'll miss it.

After that tearful goodbye, I was Boston bound.  The next day was St. Patrick's Day and I successfully bounced around the city like a big green pinball, catching up with some irreplaceable friends, and raising hell throughout the mean (literally) streets of Boston.  I spent the remaining time I had in the city visiting with people who make it incredibly difficult to stay away from New England.  I can't thank you guys enough for taking the time off from your busy schedules to spend a few hours with me.  

The flight back to CA was long and smelly.  I sat next to a man who was creating a parallel universe for pirates on his laptop (YES) and, not so subtly, read whatever he typed.  He most definitely had a few screws loose so I wasn't about to get into a conversation with him about how much I love Pirates, too.

It feels really good to be back in Berkeley.  The trip to Boston helped me recognize how well I'm doing in California.  I'm thankful to be reminded that I QUICKLY take things for granted.  I'm building (gradually) a solid life out here.  The next ten weeks will be spent absorbing bits and pieces of the wonderful California Bay culture I've immersed myself in.  I hope I'm able to do this and "fresh cut flowers on Monday" with each new "home" I travel to.


Gotta have faith in the cosmos :)

When In Rome...

...wear tie-dye!


Okay...so I'm not about to adorn the trippy threads but I've most certainly made some changes in my daily routine and lifestyle.  It hard to ignore the health conscious culture I'm currently living in.  Exercise and mindful eating are honored religiously out here.  I've welcomed both with open arms since stepping foot in my new community.

I've traded my high priced salon shampoo and conditioner for locally produced hemp hair products (all organic of course).  How could I go wrong when the BEST hand lotion I've ever used is also hemp product?! If my hands were happy...how could this new shampoo and conditioner fail? Don't worry, I don't have any future plans of purchasing hemp based clothing...I think I'll just narrow it to my hands and hair :)

On a larger scale, my normal diet has significantly changed.  I'm currently reading "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle", by Barbara Kingsolver.  It's an excellent read exploring present day issues of where our food comes from, the environmental implications of food production and delivery, and how to be self sustainable (and that it is actually possible).  When I first moved here, I decided to watch "Food Inc.".  My first mistake was to watch this documentary while eating dinner (poor decision making skills example #1).  For the next month, I was unable to stomach the thought of ingesting any type of meat product.

My second mistake was to watch this documentary and adopt a temporary vegetarian lifestyle when I was supposed to host guests in my home.  Nobody REALLY wants to eat black beans, tofu, and peanut butter when on vacation...I wasn't born yesterday.  It was time to seriously reflect upon what disturbed me most about the information provided in the documentary.

I decided it was the fact that today's farming practices have become so far removed from that which our grandparent's/great grandparent's were familiar with.  It's not my intention to climb up on an imaginary soap box, so I won't.  If you are interested in knowing more, watch the documentary!  Just don't eat your dinner while doing so.

I'll have you know, I have been able to eat meat again!  It all started with a nice Tuna steak (fish is the gateway meat...no doubt).  I'm definitely more aware of what I'm buying now at the market and am (trying to be) more aware of where my food is coming from!  Fortunately, the place I shop has contracts with local farmers and I have access to grass fed beef and free range chicken.  Not only am I supporting local business, but I'm supporting a healthier standard for meat products!  Go me!

During my "save the animals" kick, I refrained from eating eggs as well which put a gigantic damper on my morning breakfast routine (thankfully, that phase kicked the bucket as well).  I dove into the world of oatmeal.    It's a blessing my roommate is well versed in all things oatmeal.  I now make a kick-ass concoction of: rye, whole wheat, and barley flakes mixed with almond slices, brown sugar, cranberries, cinnamon sticks, cloves, and all splice balls.  A seriously delicious way to start my mornings.

Sorry to bore you with all this food talk but it's been a huge part of my experience out here!  If I could bring all of you to my new market, I would.  It's beautifully overwhelming.  Endless selection of fresh produce, bulk grains and spices, and "buy local" support.  It's awesome.

In addition to local food, the weather is different!  5 day forecast = 61 and sunny. No variation.  I'm not complaining!   Another week of spending as much time outside as possible.  My flip flops burst out from their premature hibernation last weekend and my toes enjoyed their familiar freedom.  I've found (and fallen in love with) a new exercise class (it's about time) called The Dailey Method.  I wish it was offered all over the country but unfortunately, it's only a west coast treasure.  I stumbled upon this class after a yoga instructor told us all to find our "inner chi" about 10 times in a row.  Everyone in the room had no problem with it...I wanted to hit him in the head with my mat.  Yoga is not for me (I've finally admitted it!).  In addition to this new class, I've been building up longer runs and discovering hiking trails throughout the local hills- I'm definitely feeling healthier and stronger.  It's a great thing.

Work is still going well.  I'm finding my niche and holding on to my "east coast edge".  My new boyfriend calls me "sassy".  Oh, he's 92 and can bench press 115 pounds.  He's extremely concerned with my wellbeing out here given there's no family close by and my friend group is extremely small.  I've come to love our early morning conversations about his life in Poland (obviously) and the amazing life he's created for himself in the states.  Every day, he asks for my number so we can keep in touch and he can invite me over for dinner or perhaps "go for a jog around the marina".  I'll let you know who wins :)