Quotes from Uncle and Auntie, but mostly Uncle

On discussing their visit to London:
"Prince Di, I mean Princess Di. Her memorial is in a park. That's a downgrade, I'm telling you, that's a downgrade."

Before driving back home:
"Go use the bathroom, fan."
"No, no, I don't need it."
"Okay, but I am not going to pull over on the side of the road again."

Upon describing his Big Mac meal:
"So you know what I do? I scrape up all the lettuce. Hey, that's money right there."

On discussing social security:
"Raquel, let me tell you something, let me tell you something. Okay? When you turn 62 ... "

Upon practicing for karaoke:
"[Gibberish gibberish]. Good golly Miss Molly. Sure like the [gibberish]."
"Love me tender. Love me [gibberish]. Never let me go."

After singing two songs on the karaoke:
"Lanya. Basta. Esta hocog." (Shit. No more. That's enough.)

Yeah, it probably makes more sense if you're from the island of Guam. We communicate like that, and it works just fine. I'm telling you, just fine, let me tell you.

Two girly, old guys

Imagine opening your front door to two guys over 60 years old giggling at each other. What a sight. They had just returned from visiting the local village German bar where they filled up on beer and schnapps.

Dad and Uncle. Silly girls.

Happy Father's Days

German beer

equals

Happy Father

equals

Daughter unbothered.

Sorry, Mom.

Parents unplugged

Mom and Dad arrived Thursday and will stay as long as their hearts desire. It's been non-stop Chamorro speaking especially on Friday when I took them and long-lost relatives their age to the city of Trier. Imagine me sitting with two older couples, listening to them reminisce about other long-lost relatives, the Veterans Administration, and disability payments. And all this in Chamorro with me struggling to keep up since they're naturally all talking at the same time. I damned myself for not telling them, "I'll be right back." And come back eight hours later; I could've gotten some shopping done.

Excerpt of just one of their conversations:
"Laputa ... agent orange ... the VA [Veterans' Administration] ... no way, he died? ... lanya ... how did he die? ... disability payments ... Tarague Beach ... hey, no more beer, fan ..."

More observations of my parents:

• My mom's in the bathroom yelling for my dad to bring her a book to read. Why she doesn't choose one before she sits is unclear to me. Dad chooses one off my bookshelf--Go tell it on the mountain.
• My dad's following my mom around the house singing, "Mary Sablan, and the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air." Her name is not Mary Sablan.
• They talk to me at the same time about two different topics and are oblivious to each other. We are all sitting at the same table when this happens.
• Dad is in the living room practicing on his magicmic (karaoke system) while mom and I are in the dining room where she's showing me how to play Texas Hold 'Em. Meaningful conversations amongst the three of us do happen during this, one would think, chaotic time.

More stories on them as the days unfold. I promise, they'll create some. The bonus of all this is that I get some homemade cooking I haven't had in a long time. So far, shrimp omelette, bunelos aga (banana donuts), fried fish, and some bad-ass finadene.

Glad to have them here.

Project READ: Cross my heart by Carly Phillips

Cross my heart is about foster kid Lilly who fakes her death at age 17 to remove herself from abusive Uncle Marc. She gets help from best friends, Ty and Hunter, who have all made this pact to keep Lilly safe. Ten years later, accomplished and grown up with a new life and a new name in New York City, "Lacey" gets a surprise visit from Ty who has come to warn her that Uncle Marc is pursuing Lilly's trust fund since he believes she is dead. Lacey is shocked not only by this news, but also by the undeniable attraction and love she still has for Ty. And Ty's definitely thinking the same thing.

They return to their hometown to prove that she is indeed alive to claim stake to her parents' trust fund. This news invites several attempts to kill her, and all fingers point to Uncle Marc. Ty, a private investigator, and Hunter, a lawyer, help their friend again. While the lust and love between Ty and Lacy add up, the facts about her suspected killer don't.

Does she live to see the day to receive her trust fund? Perhaps tie the knot with Ty? Read it to find out.

Bike research

I've been thinking about buying a bike to ride around my village and just for some exercise in general. My Consumer Reports' findings has pointed me in some direction, and I'm considering these two so far. The prices seem reasonable, the specs seem fine, but my biggest concern is: which one will comfortably fit my big ass?

Option 1 - the Schwinn Sierra GS



Option 2 - the Mongoose Switchback SX

Puzzle #3

I swear, puzzles have a trance on me.

Call me Matthew, Janeane, or Norkys

So now I know 5 out of 5 times I look like a man. Yeah, I should really try contacts or at least take one picture without my glasses. :)






Thanks for the link, Josie! I had a good time laughing at myself.

The dos and don'ts of being a tourist

DO be That Tourist who:

• tips; it is considered part of their income in Italy
• thanks the hotel staff, especially the maids and those you sense are hesitant to speak English
• somewhat connects with a cool Australian or Hispanic couple so that the three of you can roll your eyes at each other at other tourists' behaviors
• packs an umbrella or poncho
• lines up calmly to get back on the bus or at places visited
• offers to take a picture of other lone tourists or nice couples
• brings a book for the waiting time in lines, at the airport, or on potential bus rides
• takes Dramamine before getting on the ferry to get to the island of Capri (Oh, how I felt so sorry for some people on the boat. Thank goodness I'm a bad-ass.)

DON'T be That Tourist who:

• elbows his way through the group to be One with the tour guide and be first on the bus EACH AND EVERY TIME
• appoints herself to share her opinion on each place she's already been to
• speaks so loudly and obnoxiously on the bus you hear each and every T sound she makes
• is ignorant of the country's culture
• talks to non-English speakers loudly as if they were deaf and dumb
• cluelessly stands in the middle of entrance and exit doorways (Move!)

Project READ: Love overboard by Janet Evanovich

Love overboard. A short, little book involving: Stephanie, a clumsy, but witty former law enforcement officer who's decided to open an inn in Haben, Maine, and Ivan, a "pirate" by blood, captain of his own ship, and homeowner who sold the house to Stephanie. Stephanie must unexpectedly fill in as a cook on this ship for her cousin Lucy who's decided to run off and get married. As captain and cook have to coordinate ship meals, activities, and such, they quickly fall for each other despite the sightings of a ghost on board. Things get complicated after the cruise as another ghost, maybe the same ghost, and an embalmed man in a body bag, frighten guests at Stephanie's inn. Pirate Ivan is there to help solve the mystery and keep "an eye" on his lady, but just who is stirring up all this trouble and why? Did someone say Haben?

Hooked on Arrested Development

I'm finding that I search online for t-shirts featuring my favorite shows. My most recent quest was searching for merchandise on Arrested Development. I've become so hooked on the show, I bought a tee with this design. Buster (below) is my favorite character, and I have a crush on Jason Bateman. What can I say? I'm hooked.

Harmless Diego

Diego, as he calls himself, is The One travel books warn you about. He can spot a lonely girl with spending money in her pocket a mile away. He is harmless, charming (or so he thought), and just a dude wanting to make a euro. At least a euro was the only thing he got from me. It was an experience in Italy, I like to think.



Harmless Diego will approach you, kiss your hand, and subtly begin to make a colorful string bracelet around your wrist while asking where you're from and if you have a boyfriend or husband. Trust me, he works fast, so if you're totally fearful of being swindled, avoid him because he is molto volce (quick). He'll tell you the bracelet is meant for you to find love and happiness. And then he'll say, "It's one million euro." Which equals $1.2M. Like I don't know the exchange rate?! Nice try, Diego, but this girl's not stupido. Enjoy one euro for performance and effort.

Harmless Diego will even pose for the camera and say, "Cheez-ah!" Diego; he's at the Spanish Steps. Be wary of him, lone ladies.

I've been taking many mental notes of the interactions I've been a part of or witnessed, but rather do an overkill trip report, I'll share them in installments over time.

Ti amo, Capri! 16 September

Capri.
Absolutely.
Beautiful.
So beautiful I decided to honeymoon there if I ever get married.






These are snapshots of business vendors in Capri. They were all very nice and didn't try to hustle me.

Artist Imma. She does the artwork on her tees. Her husband does the painting on the ceramics. Good family business.


This nice lady ran the bookstore. When I asked, rather gestured, to take her picture, she smiled, blushed, took off her glasses, primped her hair, and posed. She's adorable!


This family also ran a souvenir shop, and the dad made a special run for me a few doors down to get me a map of the island. They too were very helpful and so Italian. I think if I spent more time there, the mom would have invited me to dinner. At least that's how they made me feel.


Capri Tour Guide Sasha speaks five languages--English, Italian, German, Spanish, and French! Now, that's sexy.


Ti amo, Capri!

Snapshots of Roma - 15 September

I realize there is no storyline, but I hope you enjoy anyway. I did.

Piazza Navona


Santi Giovanni e Paolo. Inside is where I accidentally walked into a wooden bench during a mass. Yes, all eyes were on me. Oops.


Colosseo and cellular phone


Roman Forum


Campidoglio (work by Michelangelo)


St. Peter's Basilica on the left, Pope's crib on the right


Read @ Basilica Saint Pietro


St. Peter's visited


Trevi Fountain


Mmmmm ... fragola gelati (strawberry)


Pantheon


Night-time, dinner-time


I'm really having a good time despite the St. Paul's incident. (Embaaaarrassiiiinng!) I can't wait to see Naples tomorrow! Thanks to all those who are reading my posts. I feel molto speciale!

Snapshots of Roma - 14 September

The Colosseum


My hotel bathroom--one for #1, the other for #2.


Neighborhood outside The Vatican


One of the many beautiful ceilings inside the Vatican Museum


Vatican guard


Lunch--I had tortellini and gelati.


The Spanish Steps


Love on the Spanish Steps

Four observations of Rome

Number 1:
The drivers are crazy! I held my breath as my cab driver drove me to my hotel this morning. If you've ever seen Rick Steves' DVDs on Rome, he's not exaggerating about the chaotic driving/traffic. Suits on mopeds, women in skirts on mopeds, locals in his/her tiny car--hands and arms flailing out of windows gesturing what I can only deduce is "What the f***!" The cool thing is that it's not considered offensive driving; it's the norm. Even the travel books say so.

Number 2:
Italian men are HOT. Even the older gentlemen, especially the ones in suits. And they smell good.

Number 3:
Italian women are hot too. I've never felt so ugly. I'm just saying.

Number 4:
You just have to walk across the street. Despite the blazing horns, swift mopeds, and the vroom-vrooms of the cars, they'll stop to let you pass. You've just got to brave it and cross. The inch-wide separation between your knee and the fender is normal. I'm getting the hang of it now.

It is 1 pm right now, and I can check into my hotel at 1:30. Since 10 this morning, I've been killing time wandering the city. I walked to the Colosseum already, and I will post pictures as soon as I can get into my luggage at the hotel.

Stay tuned for more Roma, Italia. (Wish somebody was here with me to enjoy it.)

Puzzled driver

Yesterday I did a dry run to the tiny airport I'm flying out of tomorrow. The airport is about an hour away from me, and being that I've never been to it, I needed to make sure I knew my way. (Yeah, I'm anal like that.) I started to panic and almost decided that I was a failure at following directions as I drove through twists and turns, questioning myself whether I made the correct turn or not. All the signs seemed like they were saying the same thing. I cursed online directions aloud. My mind did the Three Amigos dance when I finally saw a sign with the airport symbol and the arrow pointing its direction. I was so relieved that I wanted to kiss and hug the sign. Several kilometers down the road and less panicked, I did happen upon the airport where I surveyed the layout, parking area, shuttle bus pickup area, entrance, and all.

Rome, here I come.

Speaking of being puzzled, here's the latest one I completed.

My September 11

I wrote the following, decided not to post it, then changed my mind. It is not a sob story, but merely my day on the worst day for many innocent people. Writing it has helped me to remember them.

I remember September 11, 2001. I was doing my morning walk around the Court, and I spotted one police officer walking quickly down the lush, carpeted hallway near one of the Justice's chambers. The police officer's movement wasn't an unusual sight, but something was clearly happening. That something was quickly explained when I entered the elevator and Jane showed me the footage of the WTC in NYC from her tiny, remote, handheld TV. She brought me to my floor, I walked to my desk, and then was told by my boss that the Court was being evacuated. We were told that the Pentagon had been hit and the Capitol was a target. I grabbed my backpack, walked out of the building, glanced at the Capitol across the street, and into the most beautiful day ever in DC. One'd think nothing was wrong.

The sidewalks began to fill with people leaving other federal buildings, most heading towards the metrorail. I remember walking out with Rann with my cell phone in hand. It rang, and it was my sister Zina calling me to find out if I was okay. I had not heard her voice in a long time, but I remember thinking that it was such a nice voice. "I'm fine," I told her. "My coworker and I are heading towards the metro to get home. I'll call you later, okay?" Cell phone signals were haywire that day.

Upon reaching the platform of the metro, I couldn't help but to stare at a blonde woman, crying, willing the train to the tracks in front of her. She was not talking on her cell phone, but one could easily tell she was trying to get in touch with someone else as she dialed and dialed and dialed. I remember her hands constantly wiping away the tears from her face as she paced back and forth. I remember hoping that whoever she was thinking of, was safe.

The train ride was a long one because everyone in DC was trying to get home. Every car on the train was packed--people stacked against other people. Usually, riders would snare at each other if another got too close, but everyone just rode in silence, almost unaware another body was pushed up against him.

Finally, I got to my train stop, drove home, and turned on the news. And sat there, my eyes glued to the images on the television. I get chills to this day when I think about it. I think of the strangers I saw flee from the building on the television. And I hope that the blonde woman I saw at Capitol South was reunited safely with whoever it was she was trying to get a hold of that day.

My experience is nothing compared to the victims'; I wouldn't even call my day an experience. Good thoughts and prayers to the victims and their families is all I can do. I do remember September 11, and I'm sorry for your pain.

Project READ: The power broker by Stephen Frey

Christian Gillette defines the word success. And his success seems to flourish and diminish at the same time as he is asked to become the U.S. Vice Presidential candidate while his companies are being attacked from all directions with no explanations whatsoever. The power broker is action-packed with murder, racism, scandal, and bah-billions of dollar negotiations. The Order, a group comprised of powerful white men want Christian to join them and will do anything to ensure his membership even if they have to bribe him. Who can Christian trust? And what can he do to stop the deaths and questions that surface one after the other?

Not my usual read, but what other excuse would I have to stay in bed until noon on a Sunday? Now it's time for my romance book where murder is less likely to ensue and kissing and love take place.

Vacuums need cleaning too

Dear Carla:

First, hey sister, soul sister!

I started to vacuum my bedroom yesterday, and two minutes into it, I turned it off, flipped it over and forced my eyes to look at the vacuum roller. Just as I had suspected and just as you had demonstrated to me months ago, hair won't just get sucked up into the bag, disappearing for eternity.

So I got my screwdriver, removed the vacuum roller, and cut, cut, cut with my scissors. Car, thank you for teaching me that vacuums need to be cleaned too. I had no idea I shed so much hair. It's a wonder I'm not bald.

Suck it up, People. But clean it up too.

Raquel

Project READ: Leadership and the one minute manager by Ken Blanchard

Leadership and the one minute manager : increasing effectiveness through situational leadership guides the iffy manager to lead employees by catering to the employee's work habits, skills, and competencies. The One Minute Manager teaches the entrepreneur four different leadership styles: directing, coaching, supporting, and delegating.

This book helped me realize what my leadership style was. Just as I thought, I need to work on mine. Good read.

Be-stereotypical

One of my favorite online games is Bespelled. And what do I find when I get to level 10?



I understand there are stereotypes of all sorts of people and professions, and I can live with the hair-in-a-bun as the trademark of a "typical" librarian. But why the hunchback and arched eyebrows? So not me or any other librarians I know. We're mostly normal folk. Mostly.

I'm not taking offense; this is just an observation.

Go diva

I must admit that getting little gifts like this from a customer is endearing because you realize that you've gone the extra mile to help him. You think: Awwwhhh, what a nice library patron.



But then your perception of him changes when you find out it's an extra box of chocolate from Javier who just wants an "in" with the new library diva I hired.

You're such a punk, Javier. But since you make me laugh, I'll let this one slide.

Black-Eyed Peas performance via Khayleb

Get up, dance, do the off-the-shoulder dance!



I just love this guy.
Auntie Boo

Project LISTEN: And then there were none by Agatha Christie

And then there were none. A true who-done-it? mystery. Ten people, each with a varied background and unique personality and profession, are invited for a vacation getaway to a tiny island off the coast of the mainland at the request of a man named U.N. Owen. The first guest is murdered, then there's a second, a third, and each following the pattern of the rhyme posted in the house referring to 10 little Indians. Although they attempt to leave the island after the first murder, it is impossible because of a storm and the obvious lack of boat transport. The guests conclude that the killer is definitely amongst them. As each eyes the other with suspicion or partners with another guest for survival, 10 eventually becomes zero. Or is it one that remains? You'll find out at the end, of course.

This was the first work of Agatha Christie's that I've consumed, and I liked it. Move over romance; make some room for some old-fashioned mystery.

Labor Day lesson

LABOR DAY: HOW IT CAME ABOUT; WHAT IT MEANS

"Labor Day differs in every essential from the other holidays of the year in any country," said Samuel Gompers [1850-1924], founder and longtime president of the American Federation of Labor. "All other holidays are in a more or less degree connected with conflicts and battles of man's prowess over man, of strife and discord for greed and power, of glories achieved by one nation over another. Labor Day...is devoted to no man, living or dead, to no sect, race, or nation."

Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity and well-being of our country. - per U.S. Dept of Labor, 1992

Happy Labor Day!

Project READ: Raving fans by Ken Blanchard

Raving fans: a revolutionary approach to customer service is about a manager's quest to improve customer service at his company. He gets the help of an angel (weird, I know) named Charlie who teaches him how to find out what a customer wants and shows him exemplary customer service examples at a gas station, a grocery store, and a department store.

The book was written in 1993, so I think it's a bit outdated. The author suggests ideas such as placing the manager's office in the center of the store floor, providing a valet service at a grocery store, and having two or three gas attendants tend to you while you sit in your car.

I think it's overkill on customer service, but respect those companies for the effort. Maybe I'm just one of those customers who likes to go in and out of a store without being bothered; plus I don't care for small talk. It's similar to the way I handle customers at the library.

[two minutes later]: Duh, I need to remember that not all customers like me. I've got to brush up on my chit-chat skills.

In sight, in mind

I'm thinking twice before I click CHECKOUT for the shopping cart full of new clothes I want to buy. I'm thinking twice because across from me as I write this is a four-foot pile of clothes waiting for me to iron them. So I guess my decision has been made for me. I WON'T buy these clothes now.

I'll just save the cart.

For later.

Here's my puzzle

All 500 pieces (plus cup). Piece of cake. Now that my fingers are warmed up, it's time to double it. Stay tuned for my next piece.

Tentative Italirary

As my trip to Roma nears, I'm trying to decide whether to tour it on my own or pay for guided tours. Plus I want to hit the one-day tours of Naples and Pompeii. And I really want to see the sights illuminated at night--there's a tour for that too! You see, I've got to think about these things because I'm a lone traveler, and a girl's only got so much time. I was thinking five days in Rome would be sufficient to stroll through the entire city, but I'm finding so many places I want to see.

What do you think of my itinerary?

1. day 1: arrive at noon & stroll through the city, night 1: illuminated sights tour
2. day 2: Roma one-day guided tour, night 2: sleep/refresh
3. day 3: Naples one-day guided tour, night 3: meet Italian dude (just kidding)
4. day 4: attend mass at the Vatican, see new sights in Roma on my own, night 4: sleep/refresh
5. day 5: leave for the Deutschland

I called the head padre at the Vatican to confirm mass times, but only got a recording and then no answer. So much for answering prayers! Well, I'm sure it will all fall into place because this signora is going to have an awentura [adventure]!