STA asked me to make an introduction video. This is what my mind conjures up...
Do you get me now? Really? You need more than my brother's open-mouthed smile to know my true essence? Well, don't worry. This is just the tip of the creative iceberg.
A Cartoon Tiger, a Phone Call, and a New Bambina
The Long and Short of STA's Announcement for my 2009 WTI spot.
My mom got me hyped up on Tuesday, explaining how STA would probably contact the ten and/or the interns the day before the big announcement. Tuesday quickly went from a low-stress, jam-packed day of watching little ones run around to one of terror and excitement for my future. With a heart truly set on this opportunity, I had to made evacuation plans for my sanity, in case I did not receive the golden ticket. I believed my heartache would need intense therapy and an immediate distraction. Two children leaned on my arms and lap while I tried to shade a cartoon tiger and explain the effects of 2 and 3 dimensions in drawing. It went completely over their heads, but I like to pretend I can impart knowledge and appear intelligent to those decades younger than I.
The phone rang, and I nearly soiled myself. I felt sick, the sensation of vomiting pending on the yay or the nay that awaited me after pressing the green phone symbol on my big, bad mobile. I thank the sweet spirits of debilitating anticipation that Kristen didn't make small talk before announcing I was one of the interns. Glee.
My knees nearly buckled, and I had the strong desire to lie down on the floor (a regular Clark pastime and relaxation technique). The kids stared at me in confusion, and I was reminded of a Schoolhouse Rock song upon seeing "the whites of their eyes". Not much verbal communication happened after that from my end as I was experiencing a plethora of tingles and jingles and a flashback to my middle school stuttering days.
Now, when I got my first big part in a play, my parents heard the message on the phone machine before I got home from school. Upon getting my acceptance letter to high school, the parental units gave me the knife to open the envelope. Mama called with the results of my college acceptance while I was away on a school trip with Papa Bear. Never have I had the opportunity to utterly shock my parents with incredible news...until now.
Telling the Family
I got in the car after work, screamed in sporadic staccato, and drove home to sit on my big secret before I concocted a plan. That night I had a very important dinner with the family, one that will be a fond memory forever with the announcement that my brother and his beloved lady were having a girl. My parents insisted I drive us to the restaurant, a bad idea considering I was completely distracted, but I managed to get in only a few near accidents without bursting the thought bubble hovering over my head.
Pulling him aside from the bar at the restaurant, I told my brother in order to explain that I didn't want to stomp on the thunder of his big night. He and Allison, the oven of the bun, then went to the dinner table to unzip their jackets and reveal shirts reading
It's a Girl!
Kicks to my shins implied I needed to announce my big thing, so I placed my phone in front of Mom as she told a story to the table. The phone displayed a message from the "team" wishing congratulations, but she got too carried away in her own recountance to notice my hint for many minutes. Ian laughed at me from across the table, as I had to continue refreshing the backlight, but an eventual eye wandering down to the table caught a glimpse of "Congratulations", and she stopped mid-sentence to scream, hug, and shed a lone tear.
I'm an aunt and a very lucky lady. Thank you for the opportunity to work my bootay off for all of you.
Stop. Collaborate and Listen.
I now interrupt this Big Journey travelogue to talk about my STA final video and upcoming web development. But fret not, because I will pick up with my travels in Cambodia, Thailand, Japan, and Hawaii upon the completion of this madness called the "final round".
The Indy Video
For those of you coming from other worldwide destinations, Indianapolis seems like a barely noticeable bump on the map. For those of us coming from towns of 13,000, it's a Mecca of development. We inhabitants often make fun of Indianapolis and its available opportunities, holding it up to the same light as NYC to point and laugh, but we also get very testy when people come down on this city that actually has a lot that keeps us completely content.
Given the objective to highlight a local spot in town and convince STA travelers to hit it up, I decided it was going to take more than a good eatery to make budget travelers flock to the Circle City. I took my cameras and traversed the entirety of the capital to find Indy's best, knowing fully well that I had in my back pocket my favorite spots and events that would cause any outsider to come a-running. And documenting just one of the three gems wouldn't be effective in letting people know how multi-faceted this place truly is. Crossroads, indeed.
Joe is my favorite cook in town. The day I asked for my staple B&B (black beans and caramelized, only to hear it was no longer available, was the day I lost hope in the culinary efforts of mankind. Luckily that dark period didn't last long, and my favorite is back on the blackboard menu.
My friends and I have envied the boys who work here for years, wishing we could get the chance to spoon out this fresh grub to the eclectic, young crowd of Broad Ripple and beyond. Unfortunately, those who grasp the opportunity to work with Joe never let it go, so turnover in this restaurant's roster doesn't often occur.
Cajun creole, freshly made each day, doesn't seem like a uniquely Indianapolis type of fare, but Indianapolis doesn't really have a food style. We are a blend of every nationality on this spinning ball, and every once in a while a local joint pops up that showcases the dedicated, sophisticated, and multi-cultural taste reflecting that fact.
The frequent diners at this establishment are truly appreciated by the staff and get the kind of special treatment neighbors give neighbors (not to be too down home and cliche). Everyone at this place calls me "Winnie", from the Wonder Years TV show, and they all say it as though they were the first to come up with this revelation every time. I guess it's flattering; she was the idolized girl-next-door. But man did she have some bad bangs!
Yat's. Put this on your "Must Consume" list.
The Slippery Noodle Inn
The superlatives: The oldest Bar in Indianapolis. One of the Best Blues bars in the Country.
What's this place actually like? Sit outside on the patio and enjoy the tasty bar food and drink while enjoying a part of downtown that feels more like a small town street corner. Sit inside and watch biker dudes smoke their Lucky Strikes, laugh about their daily trials, and smile at you when they realize you're filming them for a video segment. Feel the warm embrace of their toothy grins and further suggestions of awesome bars in Indianapolis. Harley guys are sweethearts.
John Dillinger was the typical 1930s bank robber/gangster, a notorious man who claimed Indianapolis as his hometown. He and his automatic-wielding posse used the west wall of this building for target practice; the slugs are still visible in the bricks today. During Prohibition, whiskey and beer were produced in the basement. The offices of today, on the bar's top floor, used to be the whorehouse for the patrons. Oh, such interesting and classy history.
Wandering the maze of hallways and hideaways on the bottom floor is an eerie experience when coupled with the thoughts of former slaves hiding where liquor bottles now stack. The Slippery Noodle, which shares parking lots with Union Station, was a part of the Underground Railroad. Gravel crunched under my feet as my waitress graciously showed me around, pointing out the original wooden doors that hid the worrying eyes from happenings during the Civil War.
Now, I love a good, frosty beer, but this whole package makes driving the half hour into downtown seem completely worthwhile.
Indianapolis Motor Speedway
May is big in Indianapolis. Crazy people are out running around downtown in the nation's largest mini marathon. Others prefer to take on the hectic parking scene and the sometimes aggravating task of opening lawn chairs in order to be among the 300,000 spectators of a parade only trumped in grandeur by the Macy's Turkey Day and Rose Bull parades.
My kicks come from joining a group of friends and becoming one with a half million koozie-grasping, checkerboard-wearing sports fans on race day. The Indy 500 is the world's largest single-day sporting event (the single-day inclusion is to sidestep the shadow cast by the Olympics). If you've got a seat on Turn 1, never let it go. You may even find yourself in the background of an MTV Japan newscast or sitting next to the resident big shots in Indy.
People like me, though, are all about the infield. Be prepared with your sunscreen, cut-off jean shorts (a.k.a. "jorts"), and a cooler on wheels. The more checkerboard paraphernalia you have dripping from your sweaty frame, the better. ESPN2 has it all wrong; it's not about the cars going around in a circle, it's the cultural immersion into a fun-loving crowd of race fans on Indiana's biggest day of the year.
The New Website
In the coming weeks, I will be dropping my beloved blogspot for something more substantial. Nomadderwhere will wander on and find a new home elsewhere. The new site will include videos, blogs, photography, links, and maybe even additional information if the need calls for it. I tell you this because I like people who read. I like people who read my posts down to the bottom (you!). I like people who believe the world is bigger than the US of A...and like to read about that.
Baggy-Eyed in the US of A
It is 1:40 a.m. in Indianapolis, Indiana. I have so few hours left in this house, in this state, and on this side of the globe. It's unfathomable, the intensity of these last few hours. I'm hardly nervous or even realizing what's going on.
Mom is asleep beside me, curled up like a cold little orphan girl...couldn't make it to her bed...couldn't last these last grueling hours awake before I need to be on my plane.
I said goodbye to the most darling of all feline creatures. I have no fear about her quality of life in the following seven months; I will miss dearly the fur on her nose and the feeling of her body flop onto my leg in the middle of the night. She's a big girl...she leaves quite an impression.
I feel sort of dead inside, completely emotionally exhausted from graduation day, but luckily meticulous planning for the last 18 months for this trip has provided me countless checklists, sorted piles, and firm ideas of what I need to do before the main event.
Eleven books are weighing down my day bag, a larger number than I'm even bringing in clothing options. Needless to say, I'm quite curious of where this "Big Journey" will take me.
Enjoy all of your summers and lovely fall seasons. I am off on a quest. See you in 205 days.
I Get Numb Thumbs for the Kids
Now the countdown is T minus 2 days until we get Allison buzzed and set her on the plane for the family vacation preceding the grand voyage (pronounced with a faux-french accent). New news...I make wonderful banana pancakes (Jack Johnson would be proud) for my daughters and my sicky bio-mama, I have developed a lovely case of excited insomnia, and I can sit down and make 40 beaded bracelets for little girls around the world in one day (Mom and I had a 10 hour TV marathon today, impressive I know). Yeah...I've been busy. I'm not even mentioning my anal-retentive hobby of documenting everything I pack down to a vitamin, a bobby pin, and the 200 Q-tips. I want future SASers to know EXACTLY what they need to bring in order to stop worrying about the little stuff (like packing) and prepare themselves for the big stuff (like insomnia or world travel). It's fun to type when you can't feel your fingers (deja vous of tying balloons in rush...ye-ouch).
I just want to say I miss people already. I'll never find myself singing "Ain't that America" on deck looking at the Malaysian sunset, but I sure will understand the sentiment when I miss the lovely charms of the Mid-west, B-town, and the Nap.
Please keep the e-mails coming...and chiefly include the most mundane activity of the week. That's the stuff of life.
...aaaand I'm sick again
Man, when the girls from Wabash get together, mayhem ensues. When the Colts go to the Super Bowl, I lose my voice but keep going.
But when I babysit for two kids that have me pulling my hair out, my body finally takes a beating. And now I am drinking my food through a straw while watching a Rocky marathon in my basement. Super.
The amount of time I'm spending on my packing list is astronomical. I should put these research skills on my resume. I have eight more days of this wonderful sitting and preparing before we head off on a family vacation...makes me want to soak up all the depressing Indiana atmosphere I can. Hopefully this is the last time I'm sick like this until at least late May because that would be my definition of a tragedy...bed ridden in Rio. I'm already missing my 90 roommates and that beautiful B-town landscape.
Here's to T minus 8 days.
By the way, Rocky just knocked out Clubber Lang.
T minus 21 Days
My days consist of checking the New York Times for any countries from my itinerary, watching previous SAS voyagers' videos on YouTube.com, researching trips and adventures online, and watching TV with my cat at night, soaking in the last morsels of home life before I sail away. There is no way to prepare myself for the multitude of experiences I am about to have, but in the meantime, it works to document every little finding and make the most detailed packing list a person can compile. All the most trivial points are highlighted when preparing for this trip, which oddly enough overshadow the incredible journey and the new perspective I will gain. Honestly, I am only "sort of" excited because no amount of travel plans or picture viewing can match the feeling I am going to get from standing next to a huge watercraft (even though they scare the be-jesus out of me) knowing the journey that is ahead of me.
Keeping in touch with all of you is going to be difficult, so I am going to utilize this website as a means to keep you informed. Hopefully, the upkeep of this blog and using the Internet won't be too hard, so expect documentation from each port of call unless I announce my incapability to do so. Each day of my voyage will be centered around capturing photo opportunities, whether the camera is Mom's D50 or my eye, so you can expect I will have thousands to show by day 100. However, I doubt even one picture will make it to the Internet before that final day approaches, seeing as each minute of Internet usage costs $.40 and moves at the speed of a barnacle. Don't pester me...you'll see pictures eventually. Mmkay?...ah, splendid.
16 days until the fam' departs for Nassau 21 days until Bon Voyage